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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year

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the walls are thin - epilogue

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | epilogue [masterlist]

// proudly unpredictable and awestrukenly trusting ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 12504 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni omg even more smut, lots of fluff!, established relationships, seriously just a lot of fluff, we get to see all our favs, gatherings, party vibes, threesome, oral m!receive, throat fucking, oral f!receive, slight objectification but its hot?, afab she/her pronouns

a note from ♡ tori ♡: ah okay guys, i can't believe we're finally here. the END of twrt. i really didn't think that it would get this much love and all the interactions really just made me so happy and like would make my days, every week, all the time. tysm and ah, i can't wait for you guys to read THIS. it's like, ah, my fav. <3 <3 <3 can't wait to hear your guys' last thoughts on this silly little fic. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

ever since you woke up 3 hours ago, you’ve been an anxious mess. productive, sure, but still uneasy. even now, you’re tidying, moving about the kitchen, wiping down the counters, putting away dishes, moving with purpose, quick, short movements from task to task.

“can ya stop pacing? it’s making me nervous,” atsumu calls from the living room, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he emerges in the archway.

“how are you not more nervous already?” you ask, not stopping a single bit, actually pacing more now. before it was a way of getting around between chores, now you’re heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to heel toe until you reach the edge of the invisible barrier between your kitchen and dining room and then you turn 180° and repeat the process again.

it’s much roomier here than the kitchen in your apartment. the distance between your 180s is much longer than you had the luxury of before. you’re grateful for that, more time to overthink before spinning around.

you’re grateful for a lot of things in this kitchen compared to the last. the countertops are much nicer, shinier, easier to clean. the cupboards are roomier, don’t slam as loudly. the sink is big, spacious, with a spraying feature that actually gets the food off of the dishes. the stove has gas burners and there are two ovens instead of one really shitty one (though, those were a part of the non negotiable luxuries list you and atsumu came up with months ago). the fridge makes ice without having to fill the trays and the freezer has built-in shelves.

you’re grateful for the little things scattered around the kitchen too, the things that make it feel like home. the electric kettle is a matte sage and it matches your tea green dishware. the two cacti on the window sill, the hanging flowers to the right of the sink. photos of you and atsumu and friends, stupid lovey notes, oikawa and iwaizumi’s save the date, all attached to the fridge with tasteful souvenir magnets. the notepad on the freezer door where you and atsumu write your meal plan for the week. a dry erase calendar sprinkled with events in both yours and atsumu’s handwriting.

“hey, c’mon,” he says, walking over to you, reaching out his hand and wrapping it around your wrist gently to stop your repetitive motions. “makin’ me dizzy too.” he lets your hand fall as you stop, walking a few more steps away from him, deeper into the kitchen.

you huff, leaning your lower back against the cool countertop, heels digging into the tile floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “seriously, tsumu, how are you not nervous?”

he leans against the adjacent counter, palms gripping the edge, “what exactly are you worried about?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble, head tilting forward slowly, base leaving your spine, chin coming into soft contact with your chest as you take a deep breath.

you can’t see atsumu as he moves towards you, too busy looking down at your feet, but his voice is close to you as he speaks, “yea you do.” it’s soft, knowing, but patient.

“i just…,” you trail off. atsumu waits a few moments, trying to let you articulate whatever you’re feeling and wherever your worries are stemming from, but you look up at him and you’re not making any attempts to explain, so he tries to fill it in.

“everyone will get along, i promise. i know it’s been awhile, but that doesn’t mean that-,” he starts explaining.

you cut him off, shaking your head, “no it’s not that…”

“then what, baby?” he asks, nudging your legs apart, stepping in between them until the outsides of his thighs are pressed against the insides of yours. he grips onto the counter on either side of your hips.

you speak, small and somewhat under your breath, “we haven’t seen everyone in too long, i just really want everything to go well so i can enjoy the night.”

“come here,” he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, smoothing his hand over your hair as he presses a soft kiss onto the top. you let him move you, embrace you, wrapping your arms around his waist and finally taking a much needed deep breath.

you’re already feeling so much better, but he keeps explaining, “we get to see friends, some that we haven’t seen in years, all in one place, under this roof, our roof,” he pulls you back gently, kissing your cheek and then your cheekbones, “we own this roof,” he says, kissing you again and you giggle, “and we get to just hang out and play stupid games and catch up with everyone.”

atsumu steps back from you, interlocking his fingers with yours and spinning you around until your back is pressed up against his chest, swaying with you. “and we will play terrible music and feel so weird when two obscure friends talk to each other and we don’t even have to worry about stupid downstairs neighbors,” he says, spinning you back so he can see your adorable face again, watch the worry melt right off of it as he often gets to do because he’s so good at the melting, “and everyone will give us gifts, some really cool and some really bad, and we get to just have a really great night with everyone all in exchange for hours of veggie prep and hundreds of dollars in sliced meats and days of setting up and coming days of cleaning up.”

well, fuck, you can’t even remember why you were so worried a second ago.

“we still have so much work to do before everyone shows up at 6,” you note, no longer hurriedly anxious but still aware of how quickly time seems to pass when you’re being smothered in kisses by atsumu. your eyes flick to the clock above the stove that reads 10:15 am, but you don’t move an inch. even after all of this time, you’re still painfully aware of how difficult it is to unravel from a comforting atsumu.

bzz bzz. atsumu sits up, kisses your forehead quickly, and then walks back to the living room where his phone is buzzing. well, maybe it’s not so difficult for him. you almost yell out a pout, but realize that this sudden interruption should probably be welcomed, allowing you to actually focus on getting the house perfectly ready.

“hey,” atsumu says into the phone, muffled by the distance of being two rooms over now. “yea.” … “great!” … “okay.” …. “alright.” …. “okay. see you then.” …. “love you too.”

you scan your list of things to do, open the fridge to truly take in the quantity of vegetables and amount of side prepping you have to do, put the last dishes from the dishwasher away, and make a tiny note to remind atsumu to grab the mini burners from the basement. “who was that?” you call out.

“god, it’s a good thing we did all the shopping yesterday, or you’d be an even bigger mess today,” atsumu says, popping into the kitchen again, jumping up onto your freshly cleaned counter.

you throw him a look, eyes narrowed and jaw open in faux shock. “i literally just cleaned that,” you say, gesturing to the counter he is now sitting on, “also, i probably would be a smaller mess if someone was a bit more helpful.” you can’t help your smile as he shrugs his shoulders, playing along. just as you spent the entire morning cleaning the kitchen, atsumu had spent the entire morning cleaning the living room. the two of you both knew this.

you walk over to him. “can’t believe i’ve had to do everything today,” you shake your head at him, smile even wider as he leans forward and kisses it. “in return, i’d like you to go downstairs and find those stupid burners and also bring up the extra tables so i can set them.”

even amidst the chaos, clock ticking down with your to-do list still impossibly full, atsumu has a way of pulling you into these small moments. he always has, your entire relationship. it doesn’t matter what you were worried about, how you were feeling, what you were doing, he always creates space for you and him to just enjoy each other.

most of the time, just like this time, it comes in the form of teasing and poking fun. “y’know,” you tack on, leaning forward and kissing him back, “because you haven’t really done anything,” you explain.

he wraps his arms around your waist, leans back pulling you with him, kissing the side of your face, “oh is that so?”

you squirm to get out of his arms, but he holds tight, laughing now as he continues to press kiss after kiss after kiss wherever he can reach. “yes! it is so!!” you yell, laughter making it nearly unintelligible.

“right, the living room cleaned itself?” he asks.

you can’t stop laughing as you quip back, “magic, maybe.”

he lets you go completely now and shakes his head at you. “just like the table is going to magically find its way up here?” he asks, tilting his head.

you place your hands on his knees. “nope. that’s all you,” you tease.

knock knock knock. the fear creeps up on you quickly, all rational thought leaving in an instant as you worry about how much time could have passed, wrong information you could’ve sent out, unexpected people that it could be.

the crooked smile on atsumu’s face combats it instantly. “it’s a good thing i recruited back up then, huh?” atsumu says, nodding in the vague direction of your front door. your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but atsumu doesn’t say anything else, nods in the same direction again.

you make your way to the front door, tip toeing on perfectly cleaned hardwood floors and over brand new decorative rugs. just a week ago, this place was filled with boxes and disassembled furniture. now, in their places are the trinkets that filled them and the put together pieces.

the front door doesn’t even have a chance to open completely before you’re jumping into his arms, squeak of excitement leaving you, hanging off of his neck. whatever he was holding in his arms is set gently onto the ground so that he’s able to reciprocate the tightness of the hug.

you pull back, eyes wide and smile even wider before wrapping your arms around him once more and hugging him even tighter. you’re so enveloped in his embrace that you don’t hear atsumu approach behind you, only notice that he’s there when he scoffs loudly.

“what was one of the first things i said when you learned that he existed?” atsumu jokingly scolds. you pull away from your hug, half turning to see atsumu’s smitten smile and teasing head shakes. “i said that you weren’t allowed to like my brother more than me.”

you take a step back from the doorway, allowing osamu to actually step into the house. osamu reaches down to pick up his bags, one neatly packaged reusable kitchen bag and a just as neatly packaged gift bag. “that is somethin’ he usually has to say,” osamu says, looking in your direction, “when people meet atsumu first, it sets the bar pretty low.”

atsumu reaches forward to hit the side of osamu’s head, but osamu ducks out of the way like he’s been anticipating it from the moment the thought popped into his head. “besides, most people can’t help it,” osamu loudly whispers to you, smirking, “i’m just the better twin.”

“never shoulda invited ya,” atsumu shakes his head.

“but i’m so much help,” osamu replies, leaving his shoes neatly to the right of the door.

“yea, you’re just in time to go get stuff from the basement,” atsumu points out, nodding towards the basement door down the hallway.

“oh, absolutely not,” you step in front of atsumu’s nodding, blocking the view to the basement as if to prove a point. “samu’s gonna help me in the kitchen because duh and also so he can tell me all about the onigiri miya drama,” you explain to atsumu, shifting your weight forward onto the tips of your toes and smiling huge.

“god, i made a mistake inviting you over to help prep, didn’t i?” atsumu asks, but you’re already pulling osamu by the forearm into the kitchen, loudly excited to tell him every little detail about your new kitchen.

“you remember the old kitchen, right?”

“yea, of course, was kinda shitty.”

“i know, i know, but look! look at this, samu, 2 ovens.”

“gas stove too?”

“yea! works much better with the pans you got tsumu and i last christmas.”

“oh! do ya wanna see the housewarming gift i got ya?”

“now?!”

“why not?”

“then, yea! duh!”

nope. definitely not a mistake.

atsumu peaks his head into the archway with every intention of telling you that he’s heading to the basement and asking you if you could think of anything else that was down there that he needed to bring up. instead, he gets to watch this scene unfold, doesn’t dare to interrupt as you tear the tissue paper out of the bag, throw it onto the floor that you were so worried about moments ago, dig your hand around inside to feel for the contents, and then pull out a wooden box. “no way,” you say under your breath, turning quickly to set it down on the counter with excessive care. “my own?”

“come on, yn, every time you and sumu were at my place when ya came to visit, ya wouldn’t stop talkin’ about it,” osamu says, beaming, watching you closely as you gently pop open the latch.

“yea but then i went home and tsumu and i looked up how much it was and then we couldn’t stop randomly bringing up how much you spent on a fucking knife for 3 weeks straight,” you explain, shaking your head. you reach down into the box, running your fingers over the engraving on the side and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears as you read it. miya.

“i heard ya had a lot of veggies to prep,” osamu says, shrugging, “you’ll get enough use out of it today alone, i bet.”

“this is insane, samu, fuck,” you say, turning towards him and hugging him for the third time today already. “thank you so much.”

“of course,” osamu says, hugging you back.

“not really a gift for tsumu, though, huh?” you ask.

“the gift for sumu was how happy it makes you,” he replies without missing a beat, as if he actually thought it all the way through when buying it, saw the price tag, and took into account how happy his brother would be if he bought it for you. you can’t stop smiling.

the food prep flies by, not just because of your incredible new knife, but also because of the company. it’s actually been hours by the time you get everything washed, chopped, prepped, and plated, but the entire time was spent catching up on months worth of onigiri miya drama and the trips that you and atsumu had recently taken.

the second that the door to the basement closes, you lean in close to osamu, “so how is it going with that girl who keeps coming in right before closing?” you don’t have to be as close as you are to osamu to notice how flustered he gets instantly.

“i’m gonna switch jobs with sumu,” osamu threatens, shaking his head as he brings packages of vegetables to the sink.

you follow right along. “evading the question is just going to make it worse,” you explain.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, evidently evading the question.

“the last you told me, she was still coming in and you were still staying open just to make her food,” you say, turning off the faucet so that he pays attention to you. “is that still happening?” he doesn’t respond. “you have to at least give me that!”

he sighs, turning his attention to you. “the second that atsumu walks up those stairs, you don’t say another word about this,” he says, finger in your face.

“deal! deal deal deal!” you say, nodding along. “is it still happening?”

“and,” he adds, “you let me wash the veggies while we talk about this.” you reach over and turn the faucet on again, smiling. he continues, “yes, it’s still happening.”

“have you told her that you like her?” you ask, not contributing a single bit to the prep that osamu is doing.

“well, i’m not 12, so, no?” he replies.

you hit his shoulder, “you don’t have to be 12 to have a crush on someone, samu. but, seriously, do you get that vibe?”

“probably just hungry after work or something,” osamu mumbles.

“so nothing has happened since we last talked that would make it seem like maybe she’s into you?” you ask, squinting at him despite the fact that his attention is solely on washing the bunches of broccoli.

you hear the sound of ascending steps from the basement, the door knob jiggle open, and you know osamu does too as he quickly says, “i mean, maybe the one time we were chatting until 4 am.” the door squeaks open and osamu raises his eyebrows at you and shakes his head. you will get this information out of him later.

it’s not long until it’s just a few short hours of everyone arriving. the decorating is mostly done, the food is prepped in the fridge, the tables are mostly set up. you entrust the rest of the prep to the miya twins- which might be a terrible idea, you’ll have to see once you come back downstairs- as you go upstairs to get yourself ready.

“i will keep an eye on him,” osamu says, flinging his arm around atsumu.

atsumu instantly pushes osamu’s arm off of him, shaking his head and reaching to smack the side of his head again. “it’s my house!” atsumu yells, missing once again and then instantly trying to hit him again. when osamu keeps moving out of the way, atsumu jumps at osamu, sending the two of them flying backwards and into one of the tables that needs to be finished setting up. the table bumps against the wall and even from your place on the stairs, you can see the ding in the freshly painted wall.

atsumu and osamu look at the wall and then up at you, waiting to see how you’ll react and how much they should start blaming each other. you just laugh, “the first of many, i suppose.” and then you make your way upstairs.

/++/

5:39pm and you walk downstairs, breath held because you’re not exactly sure what the state of the house is going to be in, but whatever expectations that you had are surpassed. everything looks exactly how you want it to look.

atsumu and osamu are standing side by side looking down at the large, mostly empty table where, in an hour’s time, your closest friends will be gathered, enjoying food and each other’s company. “i still think we should just set up the broths and vegetables,” atsumu says.

your torn between pulling out the camera or committing this adorable scene to memory, atsumu and osamu in the same exact pose, arms folded across their chests, posture mimicked, head tilted to the same degree. you opt for the camera. it’s more replicable that way, more provable.

it’s over all too soon, osamu bumping his shoulder into atsumu’s and shaking his head. “i told ya already, stupid,” osamu jeers, “if people aren’t eatin’ for another hour, there’s no need to bring em out yet. ya don’t even have to do anything, just hafta take the plastic wrap off of em.”

“yeah, but when we’re-,” atsumu starts to argue.

“yer wrong, just be wrong, sumu,” osamu interrupts.

atsumu moves to hit him again, but you speak up, “we can just bring it out when everyone arrives and settles.” the two of them turn to face you and atsumu can’t help the smitten face that quickly takes over, doesn’t even have the heart to argue with you right now. “seriously, everything looks great, guys, thank you.”

osamu sends back a quick, not a problem that you don’t have a chance to reply to, because atsumu meets you in two quick strides, kissing the side of your cheek. “you look a lot less stressed,” he says against your skin and then moves to pull away. osamu, the most perfect man in the world who can read any room and react with impeccable timing, tells the two of you that he’s going to finish cleaning up the prep mess in the kitchen.

you place both of your hands on either side of atsumu’s face, pulling him to kiss you. “you’re really good to me, y’know that?” you ask.

“ya look really good tonight, y’know that?” he asks back.

you shake your head at his evaded question. you know that he knows that. you kiss him again. “don’t you have to get ready? people are going to walk through that door any minute.”

“yes,” he says quickly, kisses you once more, and is then bounding up the stairs, “i’ll be 10 minutes tops!” he yells from your bedroom.

/++/

atsumu is the third person that shows up to your party and that’s not including you and osamu. the first person that shows up is maki at 5:58pm because, sure, he could’ve waited for those 2 minutes and shown up right on time, but that would’ve been 2 minutes that he could’ve been spending with you. he earns a hug just as hard as osamu, harder even, longer, despite the fact that you saw maki just last week when he helped you move in.

“you’re early, y’know that?” you ask when you pull away. maki steps inside of your house as if he’s been there a million times, leaves his shoes right next to osamu’s and nods.

“2 whole minutes,” maki replies, shrugging, “issei’s on his way and i’m sure oikawa and iwa will be late,” he informs you and you nod along. sure, maki had helped you move in, but he hadn’t gotten to see your house put together like it is now. he takes the liberty of exploring the rooms of the ground floor and you follow him around as you ask him how his drive was.

when you make it into the kitchen, excited to start rattling off everything about it that you love, osamu is in there casually on his phone. osamu and maki had met before, several times. it was inevitable, really, the most important person in your life other than atsumu and the most important person in his life other than you knowing one another. and you’re grateful for the fact that you don’t need to introduce or entertain the two of them as they instantly start a conversation because someone is already at the door and atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

the second person that shows up at your party is kita at 6:00pm on the dot. you know everyone that’s coming to the party, but you know kita the least and yet, the second that he starts talking, you feel like you’ve known him forever. you’ve only really met one other time, but kita steps inside and tells you how gorgeous the entryway to your house is and hands you a small gift and you understand very quickly why atsumu and osamu have raved about this person for years.

atsumu makes his way downstairs, quickly and haphazardly and almost falling on his ass, at 6:14pm. he just barely beats out sakusa and hinata who show up together at 6:15pm. in fact, he’s there to greet them at the door with you. they’re the first people that you greet as a couple and it, along with the soft chatter in the kitchen from osamu, maki, and kita, is making the night feel very real.

sakusa and hinata don’t need any introductions or hand-holding. even though they have never been in your house, they make themselves feel at home, walking in and leaving the two of you in the doorway as they explore. “this is crazy, right?” you ask atsumu, unable to focus on one conversation that’s happening and it’s filling you with a joy that is unmatched.

he answers by pressing a kiss into your forehead and nodding down the hall where hinata is touching something that he maybe shouldn’t be and sakusa is scolding him, something about how he’s so glad bo isn’t here yet. you can’t help but laugh, taking a single step in their direction before the next person is knocking on the door.

issei shows up at 6:16pm. he’s the first person to say the word, congratulations! to the two of you and it feels warm on your mind and in your chest. “maki’s already here, right? he said he was coming early to see you,” issei says, peering down your hallway.

“two minutes, issei,” you say, shaking your head, “he was two minutes early and it’s a good thing too, because i haven’t been able to spare anything other than those two minutes.”

“ah, there’s that college you,” issei jokes, pulling you in for a hug, “i knew it was in there somewhere, that interesting mixture of super stressed and in love with atsumu.” you narrow your eyes at him, but can’t get a comeback out as he continues, “where’s kawa and hajime, anyway?”

“come on,” you check your imaginary watch, “it’s still practically six o’clock.”

“true, but iwa did say that he was really going to try to get oikawa here on time,” issei notes as you shut the door behind him.

“and i’m saying that even really trying, there’s no way oikawa shows up before 7pm,” you shoot back and pull issei into the direction of the kitchen. you make quick eye contact with atsumu who gives you a warm smile and gestures towards the living room, making his way over there as soon as you return an affirming nod.

“i know you’re right, but sometimes i just want to have faith in them, y’know,” issei says, the two of you entering the kitchen. maki immediately (and politely) leaves his current conversation to join you guys when he sees you.

“who?” maki asks, quickly and very nosy.

“hajime trying to get oikawa here early,” you reply.

“oh, there’s no way that oikawa shows up before 7pm,” maki says matter-of-factly.

you grab onto his shoulder, nodding with your whole body because it’s really nice to have someone in your life who understands you as much as maki does. “that’s what i said!!!!”

the three of you catch up as much as three people who are in four different group chats and who talk to each other every day can catch up with one another. it is different, though. you hadn’t seen issei in months and maki hadn’t seen him in almost as long as you and you feel like you’re back in college in the best way possible and you really wish oikawa and iwaizumi were here.

you’re so immersed in your conversation that you actually don’t hear the door open. instead, you hear the voices traveling from the foyer, through the halls, and to the kitchen at 6:43pm.

“i don’t think you’re supposed to just walk in, rin,” you hear a familiar voice at the front door.

“well, then, maybe they should lock their door, aran,” you hear a different familiar voice reply.

you excuse yourself, walking to go greet the two people at the door. atsumu beats you to it, practically running down the hallway and pulling aran and then suna into a half hug. “yo, careful, atsumu, geez,” suna pokes, but hugs him right back. “you’re gonna break whatever this gift is.”

“how do you not know what it is?” atsumu asks, grabbing the large bag from him.

“because rin just asked if we could get something together so he wouldn’t have to go shopping,” aran says before suna could offer any sort of bullshit excuse. suna doesn’t deny it then, only lets a knowing, lazy smile creep onto his face.

“yea, guilty,” suna shrugs, “but to be fair, it was really expensive, whatever it is.”

aran nods, “it was really expensive.”

atsumu shakes his head, “you guys really didn’t hafta get us anything.”

“i mean, if it was just you, we wouldn’t have,” suna explains, looking passed atsumu and walking towards you. “thanks for havin’ us.”

you are pulled into two more hugs. you should have been keeping count of the amount of hugs you’re giving out tonight because the number is definitely getting up there and you’re not sure that it’s going to stop anytime soon.

“of course,” you reply, “thank you for whatever this really expensive gift is.”

“yea, whatever it is,” suna laughs.

you rest your hand on aran’s shoulder, “kita’s already here and osamu’s been here all day.”

“what? where was our all day invite?” suna asks.

“we’re literally here 45 minutes late, rin,” aran says, face unphased but voice questioning.

“yea, and you wouldn’t have helped,” atsumu tacks on.

“alright, yea,” suna says and the four of you walk into the kitchen. you note in your head that another thing you’re very grateful for about this kitchen is how much bigger it is than your last one, the open connection to the dining area granting the ability to fit everyone without having to worry about being too cramped.

you note the different groups of people forming, the different conversations that are taking place. you’re still playing host right now, walking from group to group and adding a few words or giving a side hug or asking if anyone wants a drink.

“who else is coming?” aran asks when you interrupt his conversation with kita and sakusa.

“oh, my friends, oikawa and iwaizumi, and then bo, i think, right?” you answer and ask atsumu across the room.

“yup,” atsumu nods, returning his attention to the conversation that he’s having with issei and suna.

“oikawa and iwaizumi are usually this late, but i’m not sure why bo is so late,” you say, thoughtful, but then shrug your shoulders. as if on cue, there is a knock at the door. “oh! that’s probably him.”

you rush over to the door and are very surprised to see oikawa and iwaizumi at 7:02pm. “i’m sorry that we’re late. i really tried this time,” iwaizumi says, looking at oikawa with a death stare rather than you with an apologetic one. you laugh, shaking your head. you hug them both, one arm around each of their necks as you squeeze them tight.

you hadn’t seen them even longer than you hadn’t seen issei, almost an entire year. sure, you kept in contact all the time, but you hadn’t physically been able to hug them and see them in far too long. they had just been much too busy with life and travel and wedding plans and life. “‘ts fine, but you’re staying later to make up for it,” you reply, still not letting go.

“oh, we’re staying in town for a few days, actually,” oikawa smiles, “surprise?”

“oh my god!” you say, indeed surprised. “that’s incredible!”

“yeah, atsumu helped us set the whole thing up the second we even made a mention in passing,” oikawa explains.

“guess that’s why kawa thought it would be okay to be the last people here?” iwaizumi says, evidently still playfully bitter about the fact that oikawa made them late again.

“actually,” you say, “not the last people to get here. somehow.”

“dammit! no way?” iwaizumi says in disbelief. you’re about to question why that’s such a bad thing, but oikawa’s sweet smile contorts into mischief and told ya so.

“ha! pay up! i told you, hajime,” oikawa says, poking his finger into the side of iwaizumi’s cheek.

“ridiculous,” iwaizumi shakes his head, “who else?”

“oh, just bokuto. i’m still really not sure why he’s so late. i thought you guys were him,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’ll send him a text-.”

“hajime,” oikawa says monotonously, cutting you off, “pay. up.”

“what? not here?” iwaizumi says, shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed like oikawa has just asked for something he should not have. knowing oikawa, he probably did exactly that.

“yes, here. pay up!” oikawa says, nodding back in the direction that they came from. you tilt your head curiously, wanting to ask questions, but just letting whatever is happening unfold.

“absolutely not,” iwaizumi refuses.

“no, because i said that-,” oikawa starts, finger in iwaizumi’s face once again.

“okay, okay, fine,” iwaizumi gives in. you’ve known the two of them long enough to know exactly what’s going through iwaizumi’s brain. there were times before that he didn’t give in to oikawa as quickly as this, but all three of you know that when oikawa starts droning on about whatever he said, it never ends in iwaizumi getting his way.

“it’s in the car,” oikawa smiles.

“i’ll be back,” iwaizumi grumbles, turning around and then he’s gone again.

you choose not to ask any questions because oikawa is not responding to your very confused face and instead starts asking you about your new home. you only get halfway into a partial conversation when iwaizumi shows back up at the door, shaking his head, sighing heavily with a white t-shirt that reads oikawa was right. “perfect,” oikawa says, placing his palm against the words and patting softly.

he walks down the hallway on his toes, swaying back and forth proudly, “issei, come look at this stupid fucking shirt that hajime’s wearing!” within seconds, issei appears in the hallway, attacking oikawa with a hug and then pointing at iwaizumi, shaking his head and laughing. maki follows behind with less force, but all of his composure vanishes the second he sees the shirt.

“god, i can’t believe i get to marry that idiot,” iwaizumi says softly and you know that if anyone else were standing here with him, he wouldn’t have let it slip out into the air, but he knows that you get it more than anyone.

once everyone is settled, back into small groups conversing, you take out your phone to shoot bokuto a text message to at least ask him where he’s at. he responds in seconds.

> bokkun ♡ / 7:14 pm> SORRY. walking up now ♡♡♡♡♡♡

“well, well, well,” you say, clicking your tongue as you open the door. you’re there before he’s even knocked. “you’re very late, bokuto.”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry,” he says, leaning down and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into an enveloping, warm, tight hug. “but i have a good reason?” he says as he steps back.

emerging from behind him is akaashi with an almost embarrassed, sheepish smile.

“oh my god! i haven’t seen you in so long! ah!” you say, greeting him with a hug as well. it’s less warm, more friendly than bokuto’s, and you can feel how nervous he is. you met akaashi a few times before and really hit it off. he was easily one of your favorite people even though you’ve known him much less than some of the other people at this party. but he didn’t live in the area and neither of you were very good at keeping up with each other.

“i’m sorry i dropped by uninvited, but bokuto said that it would be okay and-,” akaashi smiles apologetically.

“of course it’s okay!” you say, pulling him inside.

“well, okay, i didn’t bring kaashi so that you would ignore me,” bokuto says, stepping inside on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

“me? ignore you? come on, you’ve gotta be joking,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off of him. “tsumu!” you yell excitedly, walking as quickly as you can with bokuto attached to your hip into the living room where everyone has migrated, “bo is here!” you emerge from the hallway. “and look who he brought!”

you’re so excited to start introducing anyone who doesn’t know akaashi to akaashi because everyone loves akaashi, but just as you’re about to start pointing everyone out and giving names to faces, akaashi speaks, soft and timid in this room of so many people, but clear nonetheless. “samu?”

osamu’s head swivels around quickly, following that voice that he evidently knows so well, because the word is already coming out of his mouth, before he’s even made eye contact with him. “keiji?” there are conversations still happening, people still chatting, but a few of them stop, and most importantly you hear it and notice it.

“you two know each other?” bokuto asks, surprised and excited all in one.

for you, it’s more about figuring out what’s happening than being excited and happy that they already know each other. “you two know each other that well?” you question.

osamu turns away, tilts his head down to the floor and clears his throat, but akaashi isn’t that quick. you watch the blush spread across his nose and cheeks.

“yeah, i work near onigiri miya and i usually stop there after work,” akaashi explains, “samu- er, osamu is usually kind enough to let me stay and eat while he cleans up.”

it all clicks.

you can’t stop the expression from creeping onto your face. the warning glance that osamu sends your way is just more proof of how heavily it’s showing. you have so many questions, need so many answers, at the very least want some sort of confirmation that you are as right about this as you feel and akaashi gives you just that.

he laughs, light and airy, and you can see the effects that it has on osamu. “just the other day he let me stay until like,” akaashi lowers his head, slightly embarrassed, “i had a really annoying day at work and he let me hang out in the restaurant until like 4 in the morning. and you had to be in at like 9 the next day, didn’t you?” he asks osamu.

“oh, even earlier, actually,” osamu teases back, “like 7 or something ridiculous.”

akaashi shakes his head, tucks a piece of hair behind his ear and exhales, “i’m not even going to make any promises that i won’t do it again.”

“well, i would never ask that of ya,” osamu says and you can feel how genuine it is and it’s not even pointed at you.

atsumu shoots you a questioning look, very aware of the silent exchanges between you and osamu. you shoot him back a wide-eyed, excited expression and mouth the word, later to him. atsumu nods back at you, gives you a quick thumbs up, and then continues talking with hinata, sakusa, aran, and suna.

osamu and akaashi practically don’t talk to anyone else that night, moving over to the quiet corner of the living room. osamu takes it upon himself to drag him into the kitchen, to grab him a drink, to ask him about work, and to tell him that he looks really nice tonight.

“it’s just because i’m actually freshened up,” akaashi reasons.

“no way.”

“yes way. you usually see me after an 8 hour shift.”

“or maybe it’s just because i always think it, but we’re finally outside of my restaurant and so i can say things like that.”

a pause. “well, i think you look better in your onigiri miya shirt.”

“oh is that so, keiji?”

“yeah. you look good in black.”

“well, i’ll have to keep that in mind.”

now that everyone is here, you’re leaving host mode. everyone is settled. everyone is having their own conversations. everyone looks like they’re genuinely enjoying themselves. you scan the people, the different groups that everyone is forming and then reforming. it’s weird, but deeply moving, to see every single facet of your life come together like this. people that would have otherwise never have met, all together in the same room. interactions that you never could have predicted, going really well. and all within these walls, your walls.

everyone eats and everyone laughs and you get to show off your new knife to everyone and halfway through the night, atsumu pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms around your waist, and you know that this night was meant to see everyone and mingle, but you’re not sure that you want to move from this very spot for the rest of the night and neither does he. in fact, he orders osamu around from his place at the table, telling osamu to clear the table and to grab the game that’s in the cabinet of the tv stand.

osamu doesn’t want to listen, really, he doesn’t, but akaashi starts walking towards the tasks before osamu can refuse. akaashi helps clear the dishes and laughs when atsumu starts yelling at osamu for making akaashi do his work and before you know it, everyone is at the table and all of the dishes are in the sink and the food is put away and there is two stacks of cards in the middle of everyone.

“game’s real easy, even samu can play,” atsumu explains, nodding towards the colorful cards. osamu doesn’t even bite back, just seems happy to be sharing a bench with akaashi. “someone draws a question card and they have to answer it or drink unless someone at the table uses their veto card which they can accrue more of by doing the dares in the other card pile, got it?”

everyone nods. “honestly, we’ve never played with this many people or this many veto cards, so it should be interesting,” you say.

“so, basically, no one is getting out of not answering a question,” sakusa replies.

“that is definitely what that means,” aran agrees.

“alright, atsumu should go first,” osamu says, “it’s only fair.”

“fine, fine,” atsumu says, waving his hand, grabbing a card from the pile, “who is the worst dressed person in this room?” he reads. “okay, actually, a lot of them are like this and there are a lot of people here.”

“well, are you going to drink or answer it?” kita asks.

“you gotta answer it,” hinata says.

“well, someone would be stupid to use their veto on this anyway, because it’s obviously iwa,” atsumu answers quickly, shaking his head and throwing the card down. iwaizumi nods in agreement as oikawa stands up in his seat.

“hey! that shirt is the best piece of clothing hajime owns!” oikawa says.

plenty of insults fly across the table as the game continues. atsumu wasn’t lying. a lot of the cards are very similar in nature, just calling out people in the room for various things like being a bad kisser or still being caught up on an ex. no one even has to use a veto card. they’re all harmless enough, poking fun and joking around, or no one cares enough to force someone to answer.

until it’s your turn.

you reach forward, getting out of atsumu’s lap for just a second to draw the card before he’s pulling you back into him. you and atsumu read the question at the same time, but atsumu reacts much quicker than you do, laughing loudly. if he had been drinking something when you pulled the card, he would have made a huge mess.

“what does it say?” maki asks, nosy, trying to peer over your shoulder and at the card before you read it.

you move away from him, cheeks warm, hoping, praying, if there’s a god out there, that no one uses their veto. you move your hand, ready to drink already as you read, “if you could have sex with any of your partner’s friends, who would it be?”

the only people in the room that aren’t laughing are akaashi and kita and even they are giggling and wide eyed at the question. “i’m drinking,” you say, already bringing the cup to your lips.

“not so fast,” oikawa says, slamming his veto card down on the table, “i’m sure i’m not the only person who would have done this anyway. and besides, i can use hajime’s card later if i need it.”

“no, you will not,” iwaizumi scoffs.

“fine, then you want me to take my card back?” oikawa asks.

“no, obviously not, i want to know yn’s answer,” iwaizumi laughs, directing his attention back to you. in fact, everyone’s attention is on you.

“i don’t think this question was designed to be played when every one of my partner’s closest friends are in the same room?” you challenge.

“tough shit, answer the question,” suna says, pointing his finger in your direction.

“right, and to clarify, that doesn’t include people that used to just be your friends like iwa and maki,” issei says, “because then obviously we know your answer would be me.”

you shake your head, ignoring his comment and taking a deep breath, “this is so stupid.”

“come on, ya gotta play the game,” osamu jeers.

atsumu squeezes your waist, pressing a kiss into the back of your shoulder, “yea, babe, you gotta play the game.” you turn your head and narrow your eyes at him.

“ridiculous that the first thing you two agree on is making me answer this in front of everyone right now,” you scold.

“just get it over with,” atsumu teases, “it’s not hard. even i know it.”

“no you don’t,” you scoff.

“so there is someone on your mind right now?” maki says, leaning forward as if that will make the answer come faster.

“i-,” you start, but anything that you could think of saying would just dig this hole deeper. “well, i-.”

“come on, just say it,” sakusa pokes.

your eyes flick over to him quickly, face burning, absolutely radiating heat now, you’re sure. and you’re sure that everyone can tell how flustered you’re getting, because there is an obvious answer in your mind, one that’s been in your mind since the moment you met him.

“obviously, it’s bokkun,” you mumble and atsumu, true to his word, does know it. he says the name right alongside you, laughing at how perfectly the syllables align. you and atsumu seem to be the only two people at this table that are expecting this answer because the rest of the table is in an uproar now. symphonies of what?!?!?! and bokuto?!!?! and what about me?!?? arise in stereo.

“me?” bokuto asks, floored and flustered in a way that affirms your answer perfectly. you’re feeling just as shy as before and everyone is screaming around you and at atsumu and each other and bokuto, but you offer a small nod to bokuto, just to bokuto, and you watch him attempt, and fail, to hide a smile.

after everything calms down, you’re able to play a few more rounds, thankfully not getting any other question that tops that one, not even when you get the question that reads, was your ex good in bed? and you answered a quick yes and then pushed forward.

the clock is ticking down, the night is getting later and later and as the game is packed up and put back in its safe place beneath the tv, people start to trickle home. hinata and sakusa, issei, kita, aran and suna. you offer goodbyes and thank you for comings and when you walk oikawa, iwaizumi, and maki to the door, you say a very sincere, “i don’t want it to be this long until we do something like this again.”

“come on,” oikawa says, shaking his head, “hajime and i are getting married in less than two months.” oikawa lifts his hand, showing off his dainty ring as if you forgot that they were engaged.

“shit, it’s already that close?” you ask.

“yea,” oikawa nods along, smiling, “most of those dumbasses are invited too, so, it won’t be long, i promise. it’ll be louder, and i’ll be the happiest i’ve ever been, but it won’t be too long.”

you nod, hugging oikawa tightly and then iwaizumi and then maki. “seriously, thank you guys for coming.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” maki says, smiling, “i’m crashing your guys’ lunch tomorrow, so i’ll see you then.”

“obviously,” you reply, locking the door behind them once they’ve left.

the only people left in your living room that don’t live there are bokuto, akaashi, and osamu. before you can make your way back in there, atsumu grabs your forearm and pulls you into him, kissing you hard, hand cupping your cheek, fingers scratching over your jaw.

“what was that for?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“because i can,” he shrugs, and you take that as an okay to start to move again, but he holds you in place, “and because look at this house we own together, isn’t that crazy?”

you laugh, “yes, yes it is.” you wait to see if there’s anything else.

there is.

“and because i trust you more than anything in this world.”

you cock your head. “okay…,” you say, hesitant.

“and if you want to have sex with bokuto tonight, i would be okay with that,” atsumu finishes, proudly unpredictable and awestruckenly trusting.

you physically have to jump back, unable to process that sentence any other way. “what?!” you ask, loudly, and atsumu can’t stop laughing, shushing you and shaking his head. “no! what?! why would you say that?”

“because i’ve known that you’ve wanted to fuck bokuto our entire relationship and if you want to ask him if he wants to spend the night with us, that would be okay with me,” atsumu says, calmly. way too calmly for what’s coming out of his mouth, you have to admit.

you don’t know what to say. you can barely think or understand what he’s saying, let alone how to respond. “with us?” you ask for clarification.

atsumu nods, “i’m sure he will not be difficult to convince if that’s what you want.”

you’re afraid to ask it because you’re afraid that all of this is just some elaborate joke. or, rather, you’re afraid for only a second after thinking it, because atsumu doesn’t surprise you anymore. he squeezes your forearm, looks you directly in the eyes as you ask, “and it’s something you want?”

“i offered, didn’t i?” he asks back and you nod.

“okay,” you say, nodding again. “i’ll ask him.”

it’s easy enough to pull bokuto aside with osamu and akaashi being as involved in their own conversation as they are. you don’t really know how to approach it, not completely. how do you just ask someone that? but the second that you pull him into the kitchen and away from the few people that are still in your house, he exhales and steps close to you. and it’s not anything that you’ve said all night, it’s just how he’s always acted around you.

you lean against the counter and he follows, shaking his head and standing right in front of you. “you’ve got a lot of cool friends, y’know that?”

“oh, yea,” you nod, punching his shoulder and then poking your finger into the middle of his chest, “the coolest.” he laughs and you can feel it against the tip of your pointer finger. you can hear murmuring in the living room. it fills up the comfortable spaces of silence. you look up at bokuto, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t really know how to ask this,” you say back, softly enough so that the people in the other room can’t hear your murmur.

bokuto tilts his head, “what’s up? is everything okay?”

“no, yea, really great,” you say, nodding and then you take a deep breath. just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it, just say it. “would you,” you say, you curl your fingers against his chest, “want to spend the night?”

the first emotion to come to the surface is excitement and then quickly after that confusion hits bokuto’s face much harder, like his mind filled in the blanks, but didn’t let himself get his hopes up. “like…,” he trails off, hoping that you’ll explain further without him having to ask.

you reach forward and tug on his forearm, coaxing him closer to you. “like…,” you say, heart beating violently against your chest. you try to evade his gaze, head down, focusing on the feeling of his soft skin against yours, nails scraping against it eliciting a tiny shiver from bokuto.

he reaches down, places his finger beneath your chin, and tilts your head upwards. “like?” he asks, eyes evidently flickering down to your lips. it couldn’t be helped, the way your tongue swipes against your lips and your breath catches in your throat. you just nod.

before his lips meet yours, you both talk at the same time, overlapping one another, but hearing the other perfectly.

“is this okay with atsumu?”

“like, with atsumu too.”

you put both of your hands into bokuto’s hair and he reciprocates quickly, putting both of his hands on either sides of your face and pulling you towards him, lips crashing into his. it’s like he reads your mind, one arm around your waist, one hand bracing the back of your thigh as he props you up on the counter to get closer to you.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper into your lips, leaning forward as if there was any space for you to move into. large hands grip onto the fats of your hips, sliding you to the edge of the counter, stomach pressed up against his, arms sliding down his back, fingernails dragging against the fabric of his shirt.

bokuto pulls away, laughing softly, “so this is why tsum tsum comes into practice complaining about his back.”

“it actually gets much worse than this,” you say back, low and airy, pressing your forehead against his and kissing him once more, quick.

atsumu appears in the archway, leaning against the wall, not an ounce of jealousy on his face, but rather, a very devilish smile. you feel warm regardless, but you don’t make a move to untangle from bo. “so, are you staying the night, bokkun?”

bokuto almost immediately says yes, but then hesitates. “god, yea, i’d really love that, but i-,” he sighs, “i have to make sure akaashi gets home and-”

“i can take akaashi home,” osamu calls from the living room.

“oh, you don’t have to do that, i can just get an uber or something-,” akaashi dismisses.

“no way,” osamu says, shaking his head. from where atsumu is standing, he can peer around the corner and see his brother’s hand grasped around the back of akaashi’s elbow. “let me take you home, keiji.”

“whose home, samu?” akaashi says so quietly that if you were not actively listening for whatever akaashi’s response is, you would not have heard. you decide that that’s enough eavesdropping, actually, allowing them their private conversation and turning your attention back to bo, having your own private conversation as you repeat atsumu’s question.

“so, are you staying the night, bokkun?” you mimic exactly.

he nods, about to say something else maybe or try to kiss you again, but it’s interrupted very quickly as osamu calls out, “we’re out of here.” you barely have time for bo to help you hop off the counter before osamu and akaashi appear in the archway behind atsumu hand in hand.

you look directly at their interlocked fingers and akaashi’s pinkish cheeks and you tilt your head at osamu. osamu looks at bokuto’s hand on your hip and your disheveled hair and he tilts his head at you. you decide to call it even.

you contemplate letting them walk out on their own because there is nothing else in your mind right now than bokuto, atsumu, and a whole bunch of fantasies coming to realization. you don’t do that. you leave bokuto’s grasp, walking towards the front door with akaashi and osamu. atsumu offers a goodbye to akaashi and osamu, unbothered because he’s sure he’ll see osamu a few more times this weekend before he makes his way back home. atsumu is much more concerned with having a very quiet conversation with bokuto.

you only catch bokuto’s concerned, “are you sure about this?” as his head moving back and forth from you to atsumu. and atsumu’s assured, “i’m the one that brought it up.”

“have a safe drive home,” you say to osamu and akaashi at the doorstep. “and a fun rest of your night.”

“yn,” osamu warns, but you just feign ignorance.

“you also have a fun rest of your night, yn,” akaashi says in the same exact tone, tugging on osamu’s hand, placing the other on his bicep.

“ha!” osamu laughs, turning around and pulling akaashi to the car. it’s like he can’t get out of here fast enough. “thanks for having us!” osamu calls from the car window and then they’re gone.

when you shut the door, locking it for the last time, you realize how quiet the house is without the different areas of chatter. in fact, you can’t even hear the conversation that you know is happening in your dining room.

except, there isn’t a conversation happening in your dining room. instead, there is atsumu, the love of your life, the most important person in the world to you making out with bokuto, your closest friend of atsumu’s, the one person you’ve wanted to fuck other than atsumu in the last 4 years. your voice is small, not because you’re timid or embarrassed, but because you think if you speak any louder, a whimper will come alongside it. “can you take me to bed?”

the whimper escapes you anyway as a tiny string of spit connects atsumu and bokuto’s lips and as atsumu looks like he’s trying to regain composure and as he leans over to bokuto and says, “i get to do it all the time, you go ahead.” your stomach is doing a million flips and as bokuto approaches you, your mind goes blank. not that you need it.

because bokuto picks you up, same hold as before. his touch feels familiar and his grasp feels strong. “i don’t even know where i’m going,” bokuto admits as he reaches the top of the stairs. you gesture in the direction of your bedroom and open the door as he walks close enough to it. he leaves the door open, lays you down on the bed and as if he’s pictured this in his mind a million times, he quickly and assuredly kisses down your clothed chest, lifting up the bottom of your shirt to press kisses into your stomach before sinking onto the floor.

everything is happening so fast and you cannot explain how grateful you are because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re finally getting it. bokuto doesn’t waste a second in hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs, and ducking under your skirt. your thighs squeeze the sides of his cheeks as you feel his warm breath between your legs.

“enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” atsumu asks as he sinks into the bed beside your head, smoothing over your head and lifting your shirt. you can feel both pairs of hands on you independently, but somehow moving in perfect time with each other. it’s overwhelming in the best way. atsumu doesn’t even take your shirt off, just pulls it up far enough for your bra to show and then pulls your bra down enough for your tits to pop out and the way that you are so clothed, but so exposed all at the same time is making you grow warm between your legs.

you whimper at the question, nodding as atsumu runs his hands down your sides and then back up to your tits and then off of you all at once. without them, you can feel bokuto’s completely, nothing to distract you from how big they feel on the inside of your thighs. with him under your skirt, you can’t see anything at all and you want to watch him, but the fact that you don’t know what’s happening, relying on touch alone, is causing you to flood.

he licks a strip into your panties, harsh enough to cause them to push between your lips, digging his tongue into your hole, slipping past the fabric, thick tongue pushing them out of the way with no help at all. you roll your hips into the sensation. “shit,” you breathe.

so focused on the feeling between your legs, you don’t notice atsumu’s cock until he’s pressing the spongy tip against your slightly parted lips. you turn your head for a better angle, parting your lips further, opening your jaw, and taking him in your mouth. atsumu puts his hands on the back of your head, pulling you onto his cock. you’ve had years and years of practice with this which means atsumu knows your limits and capabilities and he gets to move you however he wants as a result.

bokuto’s hand creeps up your inner thigh as he laps at your clothed pussy, sucking the fabric into his mouth and swallowing all of the accumulated juices before slipping his finger into you. your jaw opens further, moaning around atsumu’s cock involuntarily and atsumu needs to feel that again. “shit, bokkun, ‘m gonna need ya to do whatever ya just did again.”

he laughs against your pussy, adding another finger inside of you and you already feel so full. his fingers are so thick, they’re so fucking thick, like four of your tiny fingers are jammed inside of you in two motions, but they’re longer than your fingers too, can reach so much deeper. you’re squirming on his fingers, moving your hips to fuck yourself on bokuto’s fingers and you can’t help how much your hums and whimpers and whines are effecting atsumu. “holy fuck, don’t stop,” atsumu says, hips pressing forward, hands pulling you onto his cock to meet his thrust.

the angle is still slightly awkward, hitting the back of your cheek rather than sliding down your perfect, tight throat like he loves so much, so he swings his leg overtop of you, both knees on either side of your head, balls resting on your chin as he lifts your head and places a pillow underneath. “fuck, that’s better, baby,” he says, barely giving you a warning before fucking into your mouth, letting you hollow your cheeks on his head, tiny movements of his hips pulling the tip in and out of your tight lips.

“she’s close,” bokuto announces into the room, talking about you, not to you, and you tighten around his fingers even more. bokuto pushes his fingers inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, pushes inside of you completely, pulls them out to the tips, and then he curls them over and over again, and you come so fucking hard that you can’t even imagine the mess underneath your skirt.

“so fucking wet,” bokuto says, mumbles against your cunt as he moves your panties to the side, pulls his thick fingers out of you and uses the tip of his tongue to coax the come out of your fluttering hole and down his throat. the lewd sounds are filling the room and your ears even more than the sound of atsumu whining and whimpering watching his cock disappear between your lips.

“shit, fuckin’ mouth feels so goddamn good, fuck,” atsumu growls, pulling you by your hair onto his cock and you can barely breathe, spit drooling out the sides of your mouth and down your chin and neck. his strokes are long and slow, relishing the feeling of his length being squeezed by your tight throat. “gonna fuck yer throat all fucking night. won’t even be able to talk tomorrow.”

“fuck,” bokuto says, “gotta- fuck-” all at once you feel even more fucking full. bokuto slips inside of you without a word, stretching your drenched hole around his huge cock. you can feel it in your fucking guts, so fucking deep, speared. you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him in place because you don’t want to not feel him so fucking deep in you. you need to feel him this deep in you forever.

you feel the breeze on your stomach, on your sloppy clit, as bokuto pushes your skirt up and out of the way, not that you could see anything anyway with atsumu where he is and his cock destroying your throat how it is. bokuto reaches down, rubbing small circles into your sensitive, swollen, pretty clit with his thumb. “so pretty,” bokuto mumbles.

you pull bokuto closer with your legs, moving your hips to meet him and he understands perfectly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you. his moans are lower than atsumu’s, more grunts than whimpers, and the fact that you can hear them both is making your walls flutter around bokuto’s thick length. “god, so fucking tight,” bokuto praises, “shit.”

“i know,” atsumu replies, rolling his hips, sliding the underside of his cock against your tongue. “feels so fuckin’ good.” he presses forward, pulls your head onto him until his head hits the back of your throat and then he holds you there. you can’t breathe, gagging on his thick head in your throat, but the noises that are coming out of him are well worth it. they always are. you swallow around his length and something breaks in him.

bokuto starts fucking into you faster, harder, the inside of your thighs already sore and very reminiscent of another first time you had. his fingers are gripping into your waist and your fingers are gripping onto the sheets, unsure of where else to put this pure need, unable to reach atsumu’s back or arms. atsumu sees you, hands moving across the bed, looking for somewhere to root as you take all of the abuse that’s coming to you.

he removes his grip from your hair for a moment, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “pretty girl, hey, baby, here,” he guides your hands to his thighs and tears are streaming from the corners of your eyes because your cunt is throbbing and your throat is burning and you can’t breathe and atsumu is still there to take care of you in ways that you don’t even understand.

you curl your fingers around his toned thighs and everything feels right in the world, everything feels more manageable. it’s something for you to ground yourself on, the feeling of the soft, toned muscle in your hands, against your fingernails, scraping and digging. “shit, doll, feels good, harder, yea?” you nod, effectively shoving atsumu’s cock down your throat even further. you dig your fingernails into the skin harder, harder, not dragging across, but digging into. “fuck, baby.”

bokuto is fucked out of his mind with the feeling of how tight and perfect you are around him and the exchange that’s happening in front of him with you and atsumu. it’s all so fucking much. he can’t stop pounding into you, fucking as deep as he can, slamming the tops of his thighs against the insides of yours, holding you in place with his large hands spanning over your stomach. “fuck, gonna come,” bokuto breathes, stare not pulling away from the way that atsumu and him are making you feel so used, so good.

atsumu answers for you because you couldn’t be expected to answer with your mouth as full as it is. “you can come inside,” atsumu says, looking down at your tear-pricked eyes and swollen lips as you hum an affirmative plea. “she wants you to come inside,” he corrects himself.

“fuck,” bokuto says with a shaky exhale, because he wasn’t exactly expecting that, but it’s exactly what he wanted.

“and where do you want me to come, pretty?” atsumu asks, relentlessly fucking into your throat. the only air that you’ve gotten is in tiny breaths between harsh strokes and inhales from your nose. you feel lightheaded, but the fact that it’s about to be over is much worse than your inability to get a proper breath.

you can’t speak so you move your hand from his thigh, dragging your finger down your throat and fuck, if that wasn’t the cutest gesture atsumu had ever seen. there’s a lack of pressure on your chest as atsumu changes positions, leaning forward, bracing himself against the wall as he changes angles so that he can get even deeper in your throat, can fuck your throat like a pretty cunt.

bokuto watches this unfold and he can’t fucking hold it any longer. it’s so much different than atsumu, the way that bokuto unloads inside of you. he doesn’t still, doesn’t stutter. his hips keep moving at an abusive pace, fucking you even harder than before as stream after stream of his thick come coats your gummy walls. you’re coming around his cock, sobs trying to escape you, but failing because of atsumu’s cock crammed down your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin with every quick stroke inside of you.

bokuto’s come is spilling out of you. it was inevitable with how fast he was still fucking you and how much he was coming inside of you. it feels like it’s never ending, coupled right along with the noises that are leaving bokuto, low and needy. even after he’s finished filling you, he stays completely inside of you, breath catching, not ready to pull out just yet.

atsumu’s cock is throbbing against your tongue, pulsing, leaking, and he shoves it as far as he can fit it and you’re so sure that he’s going to pump his come directly down your throat, but then he pulls out, opening your mouth with his thumb, letting his tongue fall open in hopes that you mimic it and you do. “needa see it all pretty on yer tongue, baby, open, yea, fuck.”

he doesn’t even stroke himself, comes at the sight of you with your tongue out and messy eyes and swollen lips and gasping for air. his thick come doesn’t spray in ropes against the inside of your mouth, it drools onto your tongue. it leaks out of the tip lazily, pooling and collecting on the dip in your tongue until there’s too much to fit and a part of the fat glob slips down the back of your tongue and he grunts, replacing whatever disappeared down your throat. “all of it, baby, suck,” he directs, tilting your head, placing the tip between your lips and coaxing you to suck whatever’s left from his sensitive slit. you do exactly as you're told and as a reward, you get to hear the sob tear from his throat and watch him wipe away the tiny tears that threaten to fall.

everything is quiet. no one moves for at least two minutes. it takes the entire time for you to catch your breath.

“fuck, shit, i’m sorry i didn’t savor that more,” bokuto breaks the silence, shaking his head, inhale and exhale heavy as he stands up completely, putting his boxers back on.

atsumu takes this as a cue to move as well, getting off of you maybe as he should’ve from the very beginning to help you recover faster. though, you’re actually certain that lack of immediate movement is what allowed you to feel as okay as you do this quickly.

“next time,” you say, or try to say, because it hurts and it comes out shaky and hoarse. atsumu leans down and presses a kiss into your neck and then the side of your face and then your lips. he would be more phased by this if it wasn’t a weekly occurrence.

“yea, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu says, confirming.

“don’t say that,” bokuto says, shaking his head, “because i really will.”

“then, maybe come to town more often,” atsumu repeats, a tiny smirk forming on his lips.

“alright,” boktuo affirms.

atsumu leans down, places a kiss on your forehead. “c’mon, let's get you cleaned up,” he says, helping you up. you don’t try for a thank you or a yes, just give a small nod and move towards the attached bathroom.

“do you have a guest room or something in this cool big house?” bokuto asks, clearly feeling like he’s invading.

“we do, but,” atsumu says, walking out of the bathroom, over to the dresser and pulling out a big t-shirt. he disappears into the bathroom again, water running, clothes shuffling, and emerges with your clothes in hand. he throws them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room. “you’re welcome to spend the night here.”

“oh! no, no, i wouldn’t want to-,” bokuto starts, but is interrupted by the sink running again, teeth brushing, and now he really feels like he’s invading. but then you walk out of the bathroom, as fresh and clean as you can be without having taken a shower, and you wrap your arms around bo’s bicep. the feeling of displacement fades pretty quickly then.

“yea,” atsumu says, hand on the back of his neck, “someone gets a bit clingy after sex.” atsumu nods towards you and you playfully scowl back at him even though you know it is very true. “just until she falls asleep though. in the morning, she’s usually like, tsumu, fuck off, i’m trying to sleep. it’s weird, really.”

“i mean, if you- yea, i’ll stay if you want me to,” bokuto says and looks down at you nodding very convincingly. you walk over to the bed, pulling bokuto along by the arm and you crawl under the covers, laying perfectly in the middle of the bed. this wasn’t the exact use that you thought you would get out of your king size bed, but you can add it to the list of splurge items that are turning out to be very worth it.

“didja need anything before ya go to bed?” atsumu asks because he knows it’s something that you would ask if you weren’t so unable to ask. bokuto shakes his head no. he can’t imagine needing anything at this moment. “cool.” atsumu shuts the light off and the room goes very dark.

it’s awkward first, weird for only a few moments, figuring out your place in all of this, and then it just kinda works out.

huh, reminds you of something.

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maybank-archives · 6 months

Text

reflection - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. exhibitionist (ish). vaginal sex. masturbation. language. dirty talking. oral sex.

word count: 1.2k

author’s notes: this one took me soooo days to finish. i rewrote this a thousand times lol

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober masterlist!!!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Done y/n, the bed frame is installed, the shelves are in the right place, your mirror is set and we’re… dead.” John B says as he throws the last box on the floor.

Finally, I’m all settled in - my place in Outer Banks, which means freedom and no more late-night walks back from the Chateau. Not that crashing at John B’s wasn’t fun, but now everything here is mine, and it’s cozy and perfect.

The guys decided to chill downstairs, drinking off the rest of the earlier beer. I stayed there cleaning the rest of the mess. I grabbed a little towel to clean the window glass and mirror. From the mirror's reflection, I spotted JJ, leaning in the doorframe. I couldn’t help but flash him a big smile.

“You know, I’m pretty darn proud of you,” JJ said, moving closer and giving me a tight hug from behind. “What’s on your mind, milady?” he asked, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

“I think I’m just tired and over the moon. Everything came together just as I imagined it. Now, I’ve got this whole place and it’s perfect, I almost feel like I’m no longer a pogue,”

JJ chuckled. “Nah, once a pogue, always a pogue,” He says brushing his lips to my neck. “ I really dig this mirror, by the way.”

“It’s so pretty and massive, I know it’s kinda silly, but I fucking love this,”

“It’s not silly, I’m dead serious, I like it, you know why?” JJ asked getting closer to my ears “It's kinda in a perfect angle, I can fuck you in the bed or in on the desk, would be a fuckin view no matter where.” He smirked as I stared at him, with a grin on his face, he released me from his arms smacking my ass before leaving the room.

Later that night, after everyone had left, both of us came upstairs, JJ took a shower first and I made sure to be the last one. His little comment made my mind send some familiar signals to my body. So I searched through some boxes for some lingerie and stayed in the bathroom. With a robe on top, I finally stepped out of the room, and there was JJ, stretched out on the bed, watching something on his phone.

"So, I've been thinking about what you said earlier," I mumbled, standing in front of my mirror, playfully messing with my hair. "You know, about the mirror..."

JJ's eyes flicked up from the screen, a sly grin already on his face. When our eyes finally met in the mirror's reflection, I slowly slipped out of my robe. JJ sat up in the bed analyzing every inch of my body.

“Can I help you out of that?

I turn my body to him as I slowly unhook my bra. "I mean, you've already helped me a lot today," I told him. JJ nods, his eyes locked on mine.

"One more thing, wouldn’t be a problem," a mischievous glint fills his eyes as he stands up and gets closer to me. His hands land and my hips and twist them, "God, I'm crazy for you," His breath on the back of my neck instantly makes my body tingle.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing his lower body onto mine.

Just as we were earlier, JJ hugs me from behind, but this time, his hand caresses my tits as the other one is sliding inside my panties. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses on the side of my neck.

He massages my wetness with his fingers and pushes them in slowly, curling them until he presses down against my sweet spot. Some breathy moans escape my lips.

“I love the face you make when you moan for me,” JJ murmurs, his comment almost makes me feel embarrassed, but fuck, his lips against my neck, the way he’s pleasuring me with those skillful fingers of his, it’s too good to feel awkward about.

“Always so wet for me, I need to taste you,” JJ whispers in my ears “You want my mouth on you?”

I lazily nod.

He sinks to his knees and wrenches my legs apart, I lean on the corner of the table as JJ grabs my leg and holds it on top of his shoulders. I see him peering up at me as I tangle my hands over his hair.

I let out a hoarse "Yes." as JJ wraps his mouth on my pussy. He licks my clit with soft, teasing strokes, driving me wild with desire. He takes his time, building up my pleasure and making me beg for more. "JJ, please don't stop," I whimper. As if it was an order, JJ fastens the tempo, the more noise and movement I make, the more eager JJ gets with his mouth.

His groans against my skin makes me squirm, my vision was blurry til he withdrew his fingers out of me.

“I’m sorry, but you will finish with me inside of you princess,” He asks as he pushes me in front of the mirror. “I want to look at your face when I slam deep inside you.”

I nod. At this point, I just need to feel him.

“I’ll let you do anything if you just fuck me JJ.”

JJ chuckles, his underwear falls to the floor, his thick cock points up as he gives it a few pumps. The sight of his cock running through his palms makes me crazy. I hunch over, my body leans against the mirror, both of my palms pressed firmly against the glass.

JJ gives my ass a slap before rubbing his length in between my legs.

“Look at us,” He commands huskily

My eyes land on myself, bent over with my legs spread open, my mouth hangs open feeling JJ slowly push against my hole. Looking at JJ, he has his lower lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes are devouring my reflection through his lashes.

“Watch me fuck you from behind,”

My moan is instant as JJ buries himself deeper inside me, his hands gripping tightly around my waist. His thrust gets progressively faster. My sex clutches around him every time he fills me up. There’s no more “teasing” and also there’s nothing graceful about the pounds he gave me.

“Fuck yes,” JJ grunts against my neck.

It’s all moaning, slapping, and slurping sounds filling the bedroom right now, our sweaty bodies slamming each other without a pause.

I feel getting close to reaching that blissful feeling, I take JJ’s hand and place it between my legs. He knows exactly the amount of pressure to put it in because when he strokes it frantically, I'm closer than ever.

“yes, yes, yes”

"Come for me, look how good you take me." JJ stares deeply at me

I almost can’t support my body, every muscle inside me tenses up as I feel his cock pulse, the pleasure builds inside me until finally, it explodes, melting my body.

JJ buries his face in the crook of my neck, trembling against my body as he climaxes as well.

He keeps pumping inside of me, my pussy contracting milking his shaft as he pulls out.

"I've been looking forward to this all day, you have no right being this hot princess," JJ holds me giving me a kiss.

“Gosh, we are so doing that again,”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

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idontknowwhattoputasmyusernameee · 7 months

Text

Intimidation

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: rots!Anakin x fem!reader

Warnings: none just fluff, but let me know if I've missed anything.

A/N: I have had this sitting for so long and I've been itching to post it. It is my very first imagine, so we'll see how this does. Probably have many more to come.

He was intimidating.

There was something about him that was hard to place.

The way he looked was something out of a fairytale; his eyes were hard and steely, his jawline strong and sharp, his lips pink and pouty. He moved with confidence in the room, his steps controlled yet graceful. His presence seemed to demand respect from those around him.

He was definitely attractive.

Too attractive to be a Jedi.

You felt a heavy, electric pressure on the side of your face. Every time you tried to sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye, he would be looking downward or up towards the ceiling, avoiding any kind of eye contact.

You tried to ignore the magnetic pull of Anakin's gaze, but it was impossible. Every time his eyes met yours, you felt a wave of heat wash over you and your heart seemed to skip a beat. You knew deep down that this couldn't be real, that perhaps your infatuation with him was causing you to imagine things that weren't really there.

Mace Windu's deep voice cut through the daydream,“That's all for today," he said firmly. He gave you all a slight nod. “May the force be with you,” he added before turning away.

You stood up stretching your aching limbs. You hated these debriefings, feeling drained after every one. A quick glance showed the faces of the Jedi Knights in the room were heavy too, etched with fatigue. Reports flashed on the hologram in the middle of the room, grim reminders that loss and death had become unavoidable realities in this war and there was no end in sight.

Not something you would want to hear at eight in the morning. You were just glad that you had the day off, so a nap sounded like an amazing idea.

The crowd around you began to surge forward, and you were soon engulfed in a sea of people, all jostling for the exit. Suddenly, your foot caught on something and you stumbled, throwing out your arms as you tumbled forward, into the broad chest of a large man. He caught you quickly, his grip strong and sure.

As you started to apologize, you looked up into the face of none other than Anakin Skywalker himself. He was standing there holding your arm, smiling kindly.

"Careful there," he teased, you felt his fingers slowly slid from your forearm to your shoulders to steady you.

A flush crept up your cheeks as you tried to look away, the intensity of his cerulean eyes too much to bear. You were suddenly acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing and the warmth radiating from his body.

You avoided eye contact, mumbled an apology, and scurried away from him as you felt your face heat up. You tried to disappear into the background but could feel his piercing gaze burning a hole in your back.

Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Knight renowned for his exceptional piloting skills and his connection to the Force, had always intrigued you. From afar, you had admired his bravery and determination, but up close, his presence was overwhelming. His mere gaze sent shivers down your spine, and his captivating smile left you momentarily breathless.

It was safe to say that Anakin Skywalker intimidated you.

…

The Jedi library was a grand room, encompassing almost an entire section of the temple. Shelves adorned with ancient manuscripts, scrolls, and books lined the walls; each tome a repository of knowledge from across the galaxy. The scents of parchment paper and aged ink filled the air, while glowstones illuminated the space in a soft, ethereal light. Tables were arranged in circular clusters like small islands in a sea of knowledge, beckoning exploration. It was as if all the secrets of the universe had been contained within these walls, offering solace and tranquility for those who sought it.

And yet...

There had been another encounter earlier in the afternoon.

It embarrassed you to no end how awkward you were with the man. But something about him made you freeze, run away, and hide.

Earlier before coming to the library you had just left the meditation chambers, relaxed and fully focused for whatever study sesh you were diving into. Stepping into the elevator , you hit the button for the ground level. Not even two seconds later a voice called out to you.

“Hold it for me please.” The voice, you recognized to be Anakin’s called out for you.

Maybe it was a slip of your finger, or the instinct to run away. Whatever it was, the doors closed right in Anakin’s face.

The moment you realized what you had done you let out a sigh of frustration. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal?

Now the situation was eating you up inside as you flipped each dusty page of one of the thousands of books in the library. The frown on his face engraved in your mind. He probably thought you were a freak.

You groaned into your hands, earning a shush from other people around you.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” A female voice suddenly questioned, causing you to jump slightly.

Ashoka Tano stood above you a brow raised at your stressed out figure. Although she was barely sixteen and you nineteen, the two of you were very good friends.

“Kriff Ashoka, why are you in here? Aren’t you banned from the library?” You questioned.

She rolled her eyes,”Actually it was a one year ban, and not that it matters but it was mostly Anakin’s fault.”

“Right, he knocked half of the shelves down and destroyed a quarter of the ancient language books.” You snickered.

“He started it !” She exclaimed defensively.

“Shh!” You whispered harshly. “Keep your voice down, unless you want to get banned again.”

“Okay okay,” she whispered back,”what are you working on?”

“Master Yoda asked me to give a quick rundown on a newly charted planet, so far I haven’t really found anything worth mentioning.” You answered, flipping open another book.

“Boo, sounds boring,” she said, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. She grabbed your wrist and tugged you up from the chair. “Let’s go get lunch.”

“Right now?” You asked in shock.

“Yes now, I heard they’re serving pasta.”

Your eyes widened with excitement and you leaned forward, intrigued. "What kind of pasta?"

A mischievous grin spread across her face and she ticked off on her fingers, "Lasagna, fettuccine Alfredo, spaghetti carbonara..."

“Alright I’m sold,”you grabbed her hand,”let’s go.”

…

“Then he had the audacity to ask me if I’ve been paying attention,” Ashoka shook her head,”The nerve.”

“Mmm,” You hummed in agreement,”Well were you?” you asked, taking a sip of blue milk.

She gave you a coy smile,”Well…I was staring at Enzo's ferociously large biceps.”

You choked on your drink, taken aback by the words that slipped out of her mouth.

Ashoka gently rested her hand on your back and gave a few light pats as you coughed. She smiled with amusement,"Oh look, how convenient."

She pointed over to Anakin who had just walked into the cafeteria. His eyes swept across the room, then stopped when they met yours. He started walking towards you with a determined stride. You felt all the air in your lungs disappear, and your stomach seemed to somersault inside of you. Every step he took felt like an eternity as his gaze stayed locked on yours.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest and a wave of nausea fill your stomach. As every ounce of common sense told you to bolt away from the table, you were physically unable to move anything except for your hands, which trembled as your fingers tightened on the edge of the table.

What was happening to you?

“Sorry I took so long, I got caught up in conversation with Master Mundi," Anakin sighed heavily, sitting down across from you and Ashoka. "Also the elevator took a while ,” he added, looking directly at you.

You almost went into another coughing fit.

“Master, what a nice surprise,” Her face then broke into a mischievous grin. “You remember Y/N, right Anakin?”

Your cheeks flushed red as he looked your way.

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “How have you been Y/N?”

You smiled politely, “Good.”

“Y/N was just about to-"

"Leave, actually," you interrupted her.Your plate was still mostly full, but you couldn't bear the tension and discomfort that had already set in. You didn't dare meet Anakin's gaze again, and instead busied yourself with gathering your things.

Ashoka shot you a confused look, but didn't try to stop you as you stood up from the table.

Anakin looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Oh, alright. See you around, then," he said with a small smile.

"Uh, yeah. See you." You managed to squeeze out the words before practically sprinting out of the cafeteria.

Once outside, you leaned against the closest wall and took deep breaths to steady yourself. You couldn't believe how much power Anakin Skywalker had over you - a mere acquaintance at best. You had never been so thrown off balance by anyone before.

...

With your overthinking mind, you had concluded that they were playing a prank on you. It was probably your sleep deprived mind or your coffee addiction that fueled this thinking. But, Anakin and Ashoka were up to something.

Every time you showed up to see Ashoka, she would beam from ear to ear and let out an excited, “Oh, Anakin’s here!” You could feel your cheeks flush as the Jedi Knight appeared and you scrambled to come up with a plausible excuse to leave.

Even when you weren't with Ashoka, he would somehow be conveniently around you. It was as if he were seeking you out.

No matter where she went, Anakin seemed to materialize out of thin air. In the vast hallways, as soon as he appeared at the corner she'd quickly turn around and hurry in the opposite direction. When walking around the temple grounds, there he was again; standing tall against the rising sun, his features illuminated by a solitary ray of light.

It's been two weeks, and quite frankly you were starting to become exhausted with this charade or whatever thing this was.

The only places where you could find solitude were your quarters and the library.

So that's were you found yourself today, in the Temple Library.

Your fingers were tangled in your hair, which fell wildly around your face. Crisp pages of books lay open amongst a scattering of pens and highlighters on the table.

Two hands slammed in front of you, making you look up. You jumped in surprise.

“Alright spill,"Ashoka demanded with impatience.

“Spill what?” You tried to act nonchalant.

Ashoka rolled her eyes, “You know what. Why are you avoiding Anakin?"

“I’m not avoiding him,”You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, looking away from the other girl.

"Not what I heard," she countered, folding her own arms, matching you stance. When the silence continued, she sighed,” Y/N, I know you like him."

You stared blankly at Ashoka with disbelief clear in your stare. She knew. Of course she knew. It was so obvious.

"Plus he's been whining to me for the past couple of weeks."

"Whining?" You repeated, taken aback.

Ashoka nodded, "Yeah, he's been complaining about how you've been avoiding him like the plague. He thinks you hate him or something." Her voice grew n octave lower, trying to imitate him,"Does she not like me? Am I being too forward? Did I do something wrong?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Anakin Skywalker whining to Ashoka about you.

"I don't hate him," you finally admit. "I just...don't know how to act around him."

"You act the same way you always do," Ashoka shrugged. "He's just a person,Y/N. It pains me to say it but... a really attractive person." she made a quiet gagging noise.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but feel a small flutter in your chest at her words.

"Just talk to him," she encouraged. "I promise he's not that scary."

"Alright," you nodded,"I'll try."

...

This was not what you were expecting. You hoped to corner him in one of the many hallways, but instead you were stuck with him and Ashoka in an elevator.

"How long has it been?" Anakin asked.

"Five minutes,"Ashoka answered.

The air inside was starting getting thick from all of the carbon dioxide being exhaled from your lungs. You shifted uncomfortably, finding yourself caught between Anakin and Ashoka. The small space felt too intimate, and you could feel Anakin’s eyes on you even if you refused to look his way.

"Alright, I've had it," Ashoka quickly stood up, igniting one of her sabers to cut a large enough hole to jump through. "I'm going to get help, be right back."

"Ashoka!" Anakin yelled,"That's not smart."

But she ignored him, jumping above the elevator and vanishing out of sight.

You had just been left alone in an elevator with Anakin Skywalker. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder if this had all been a setup. Ashoka's sudden exit made it feel like an ambush, as if the two of them had planned to leave you alone together.

The silence between the two of you was agonizingly uncomfortable. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Anakin, so you kept your gaze trained straight ahead.

"So," Anakin finally broke the silence. "You've been avoiding me."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't like you could tell him that he made you nervous just by existing.

"I haven't been avoiding you," you lied, feeling guilty for not being truthful.

Anakin let out a small laugh, "Right. Because turning around and walking the other way every time you see me is totally normal."

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. He had noticed after all.

"I'm sorry," you finally admitted. "I don't know what to say around you."

Anakin turned to face you, his expression softening,"That's alright."

"I've been meaning to talk to you actually,"you started, finding a sudden burst of courage. "I um... well Ashoka said that, you..."

He waited patiently, raising an eyebrow in encouragement. You took a deep breath before continuing.

"Ashoka said that you might have feelings for me," you blurted out, feeling your face heat up even more at the admission.

"Well its about time you noticed,"he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've been waiting weeks for you to figure it out."

Even though you knew it to be true, you couldn't help the wave of shock that passed over you at his confession. You had never expected Anakin Skywalker to have feelings for someone like you.

"So you do like me?" you stupidly asked.

He laughed, his eyes lighting up in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the galaxy. "Of course I like you," he said, slowly stepping towards you. "Was it not obvious?"

You felt your heart beating faster as Anakin drew closer, finally standing right in front of you. You could smell the musky scent of his cologne and it sent shivers down your spine.

"I never realized," you admitted sheepishly, feeling ashamed for not noticing something so obvious."I honestly thought it was some cruel joke."

His smile was soft and warm as his hand reached up to slowly smooth a piece of your hair out of the way.

"Do you like me," he softly asked,the intensity in his eyes making it hard to form coherent thoughts.

You nodded your head, unable to find words as you stared up at him. His hand trailed down from your hair and cupped the side of your face gently, bringing it closer to his own.

"Can I kiss you," he whispered,his breath hot against your skin. Your heart was beating wildly and you could feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Please," you breathed out, barely louder than a whisper.

His lips brushed against yours tentatively, hesitantly testing the waters. You closed your eyes and parted your lips slightly, giving into his advances. A tingling sensation rippled all throughout your body. It was almost electric as you ran your hands through his short curls, his fingers curling around the back of your neck. He pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, and it only fueled your desire.

Every inch of your body was on fire as Anakin's hands started trailing up and down your sides, sending shivers through you.

You could feel his need for you in the way he kissed you - a sense of urgency and raw hunger that made it clear this was not just any ordinary kiss.

As the intensity grew, so did your own desire rippling through your veins like an inferno. The air around you felt electric with attraction as if nothing else mattered in that moment except for each other.

You broke apart gasping for breath, Anakin's voice husky as he spoke quietly into the space between you. "I've been wanting to do that since I first met you."

A dazed smile broke out on your face,"Me too."

A loud bang from outside drew both of your attentions away.

"Alright lovebirds, I'm busting you out." Ashoka yelled from the other side.

The loud groaning from the metal doors echoed throughout the elevator. Revealing the light from the hallways on the other side.

"Alright come on out,"Ashoka yelled, hidden and out of sight.

Anakin made one last move, kissing your cheek, your nose, and lastly a longing kiss on your forehead before leaving the elevator.

He paused looking back with a smirk,"Until next time."

Feeling the warmth radiating from his parting words, you smiled and watched him disappear into the hallway.

"Well, well, well,"Ashoka said with a grin as you stepped out of the elevator. "Looks like someone had a good time in there."

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up on your cheeks."Shut up."

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thetraumaking · 12 days

Text

Accursed Crown

Child soldier program within the Fire Nation. Princess Ursa will be having the first grandchild of fire lord Azulon, and as a gift, he sends his son, prince Ozai, to find an appropriate bodyguard for the mother of the nation.

After prince Zuko was born, princess Ursa became pregnant once more.

When she gave birth to her second. Not only did she suffer from a burn from the newborn, she didn't feel the motherly love she felt for her firstborn to her second. She couldn't hold her or even look at her. But she's not a cruel woman, so she found a wet nurse and let the other woman raise her. Well, that was the plan until for a whole day straight the baby girl wouldn't and couldn't stop crying. Even Ozai heard it and came to yell at Ursa for failing as a mother.

When the child had finally shutten up, Ozai turned to see the young guard gently holding the baby.

From that day onward, you, who was nothing but a child soldier, became the guard, the nursemaid, and mentor for the new princess.

NOT for the faint of heart!!!

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: Old Child

Chapter 3: Her Touch

Princess Ursa has been getting too comfortable as time went on. Her advances continued on and, fortunately, her affection hasn’t exceeded hugs.

Her hands and fingers felt like ropes tangling around you.

It felt suffocating.

You have put the young prince to bed.

Originally, it was supposed to be the actual mother that was going to put him to sleep, when Prince Ozai came in. He ordered for you to take the child to his room and deal with him before announcing that he would be waiting for Princess Ursa in her chamber.

Making sure Prince Zuko was asleep, you made your way out. As you were walking towards your room, the door ahead, Princess Ursa’s door, opened, and out came Prince Ozai.

He didn’t spare you a glance before adjusting his robe and walking away.

The moment he was out of sight, you heard choked sobs from the room the prince just come out of. Taking a deep breath in, you walked towards the large double doors. Clenching your fist, you steeled your nerves,(you didn’t want to do this) and knocked thrice.

Waiting for three seconds, you let yourself in.

Her bare back was to you, smooth skin, and shoulders shaking. You bit the inside of your cheek and took out one of her night robes before walking towards her.

Wordlessly, you drape it over her shoulders, trying to cover her up as she tries to collect herself. You stop as she raises her hand. “Don’t, I want to take a bath.” She wipes her tears, “I feel filthy…”

You nod.

You have helped prepare the prince’s baths a couple of times so you know more or less how the bathing preparations are for noble descent.

Unlike the common folks, those who have both money and power, rather than a tub, have a whole room for bathing: large enough to swim in, large enough for the entire family and then some.

Turning the two knobs on your right, hot water began to pour out of the marbled dragon’s maw, slowly filling up the large tub in the ground. On the shelves next to you were jars of dried petals and skins of fruit.

You sprinkle a bit from both jars before pulling out a sack from the bottom, before pouring some into the water. The once clear water now turned pink with bits and pieces of florals and fruit floating around.

As you were putting the jars away, the princess walked past you and dipped into the water. Her shoulders sagging with a sigh as she leaned onto the wall.

With her head hung low, there was a moment of silence. You had turned the water off when it reached her shoulders.

The mirrors had fogged over, water vapours thick as it clung to any and all surfaces. Small droplets of cold water falling every so often back into the tub and ground.

“… hold me.”

Her sudden whisper came out a slur.

Wordlessly, you stepped into the bath. Your shoes, clothes, and gear, getting soaked the deeper you step down the submerged straits. The fabric of your shirt and pants clinging uncomfortably to your skin as you drew closer to the princess.

You wrap your arms around her, eyes staring ahead as you do so. And in response, she returns the hug.

Her hands on your back as you stood there, wondering when you would be dismissed for the day. The moment you felt the tip of her nose touch your neck, you froze. Your knuckles turn white for how hard you were squeezing onto your arms, nails digging into your flesh.

The tip of her nose runs over your pulse point, taking a deep inhale as her hands find home on your shoulder blades. Her lips pressed onto the skin of your neck.

The two of you stood there in the hot bath. Water droplets fall from the ceiling.

You couldn’t remember what happened next. You just remember standing there, in the water, being clung to by the princess. You felt something rising in your throat as you clutched into your muscles.

Once you made it back into your room, you were quick to run into the bathroom and lock the door. Once you were safe, you ripped your clothes off as fast as possible from your body.

Every contact you had with her felt forbidden.

Lecherous.

Appalling even.

You snatched your scrub and rubbed your skin raw. Rubbing until your skin turned red and stinging, sucking in sharp breaths through your teeth you kept on rubbing. You could feel your eyes stinging and your chest caving.

What was happening to you these past few months? Why do you keep having these horrid symptoms? Why do physical interactions with the princess leave you in such a mess?

Shame and disgust were no strangers yet despite feeling them here in the palace, there’s also pain that throbs in your chest.

Water droplets fell on the marbled floor as you pressed the scrub harder onto yourself.

Shakingly, you looked up at the mirror. Your neat hair is now a mess from your frantic scrubbing. Through disheveled strands, you looked into your bloodshot eyes. You looked pitiful.

A disgrace.

What a waste of a soldier. You thought.

All that training and pain you went through was for nothing. Now you have to stay put within the castle walls looking after a mess of a princess.

It is your job to serve the royal family, yes. But not like this.

Your gaze hardened as it landed on the spot you felt her highness seemed to favor. Even now, after all that scrubbing, rubbing, and scratching, you could still feel the warmth. The tingling from how she nuzzled into your neck and kissed it.

Bring your hand up, you place it over the patch of skin her lips have landed on.

Gritting your teeth, you slowly brought up the heat within your palm.

In the room, you only heard the growing sizzling as the smell of burnt flesh spread.

For the last time, you indulged in your vanity, looking at your finished work. You let out a sigh of relief. Never in your days have you thought you would reach the point of feeling such relief in the sight of red blistering flesh.

#fanfic #atla #atla azula #avatar the last airbender #azula x reader #fire lord azula #fire lord ozai #prince zuko #princess ursa

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daenysx · 3 months

Note

Hiya darling, I just saw that your requests were open so obviously I had to jump at the opportunity. Could you write sth about Aegon and maybe the reader is his girlfriend? And this time he promises himself to do things right and not just jump into the physical intimacy right away bc he's serious about her. So he's trying to restrain himself, but she's making it hard for him without even knowing, bc everything seemingly innocent turns him on lol. And then she's a bit irritated bc he's getting irritated and keeps pushing her away and she thinks that maybe she did something wrong?

It doesn't need to be pure smut, but if you could make it a bit spicy and fluffy it'd be greatly appreciated! 💖💖

thank you so much for requesting, angel, i tried my best but honestly i'm not sure if this is good enough ♡ i hope you like it! requests are open!!

aegon targaryen x fem!reader modern au (kinda nsfw)

promises

aegon wakes up to an empty bed.

he blinks slowly, his hair falls on the comfy pillow as he adjusts his head, and he feels the spot next to him. the sheets are still warm but you are not there, confusion and curiousity makes aegon's brain fuzzy the first thing in the morning. he sits on bed, rubs his eyes until he feels numb, and leaves the warmth behind him as he steps out of his room.

it is your first sleepover at aegon's, and he is excited by all means. he remembers the night, the wine bottle, and your smiles. you were glowing under the soft lights of his living room, you gave him lots of kisses, and he kissed you back. he remembers leading you to bed, cuddling you under the sheets, and the way you wrapped your arms around him. he buried his face to your neck as you fall asleep and promised not to ruin what he has with you silently.

aegon's kitchen is big enough but he keeps his glasses at the highest shelves. you are trying to get one of them on your tiptoes, wearing an old shirt from his closet and your sleep shorts. he likes seeing you like this, he decides. like you belong in his life.

you get the glass successfully, you fill it with water and drink it all in one go. aegon watches you, leaning to the wall. you finish the water and put your glass on the counter. turning your back, you see your lover waiting for you to realize him.

"good morning, baby." you say, aegon loves hearing the word baby from your mouth.

"morning." he says back. you give him a kiss on his cheek. "slept well?" you ask, even your morning voice is sweet to him. he nods, brushes his lips on your hair and fakes a kiss. you wrap your arms around his waist as you lead him back to his room.

"it's still early." you say.

"maybe we should go back to sleep." aegon says as he holds your hand.

you both find your ways back to bed, aegon lifts the sheets to get under them. he misses your warmth even though you are here with him, it's addictive and he has never been great with his obsessions. the thoughts of being together with you all the time, every way, makes his head spin. he closes his eyes and takes a calming breath.

aegon has a love-hate relationship with promises. the promises he gave to his mom, i'll be good mom, the promises he gave to aemond, and the promises he keeps giving himself. he thinks they make his life worthy somehow, he tries to prove that he is actually capable of doing something he gave his word for. no one has ever told aegon how hard it is to keep a promise, though. he finds himself imagining different scenarios of him breaking all those promises and being somewhat free.

you came into his life when everything was more difficult. he didn't even know what you see in him, why would someone like you stay with him? you deserve sunshine and happiness, aegon has broken memories behind him. not all of them was his fault to be true, but he had his fair share of ruined relationships. he was expecting to ruin the things with you as well, because why not, but it's not going as he'd guessed. it's going actually well, with you.

he is careful not to make any mistakes, the ones he knows from his past anyways. he is careful not to rush into things with you, even though he wants is badly. you in his apartment, playing with his beloved sunfyre, wearing his shirts, kissing him like he's worth it, calling him baby like he deserves it...he wants everything with you.

"i was thinking we could do something other than sleeping." you say gently, getting him out of his thoughts.

"yeah?" he asks, gets comfy on bed as you stroke his hair. "like what, pretty girl?"

you answer by starting a kiss. aegon parts his lips for you, you lean into him. the kiss lasts for seconds, you can see the first lights of the day in the room. you cup aegon's cheek with your one hand while the other twirls his hair between your fingers. aegon kisses you back and you find the courage to take the next step.

you give him one last kiss as he lies on bed, and you throw one leg over his body to get closer to him. you can feel his hardness under your leg and your stomach tightens. you press yourself as an attempt for relief and aegon holds your thigh to keep you steady. he breaks the kiss to look at you with an expression you don't quite like.

he stays still but you think maybe he's pulling away from you, and your courage feels like there's a pit in your chest. you try to pull your leg back but you can't. you try to smile when he frowns, you are almost ashamed that you are pressing yourself to him when he does nothing.

"i'm sorry." you whisper. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

aegon looks at you with glassy eyes. "don't be sorry, please. you never make me uncomfortable."

"i mean-" you start, but the words don't come out easily. "i know we didn't really do anything before but i- i thought-"

insecurity starts dripping from your words and aegon would be damned if he ever let you think you are doing something he doesn't want. "no, no, lovely. it's just-" he says, rubbing your skin. "it's all me. i just- didn't want to rush into things and-"

he stops talking and it worries you. "and what?" you ask silently.

"i don't want to lose this." he sounds afraid and broken. "i don't want to lose what we have. i don't want to ruin everything."

he blinks down a slow tear, and it breaks your heart. "aegon." you say. "you think you will ruin things with me just because we get physical?"

the conversation turns serious so quickly. aegon blinks again. "i've never been good in relationships. i want you so much, but i don't mind waiting. you didn't do anything wrong, it's all me."

"baby." you cup his cheek. "you are my boyfriend, and i want to be closer with you. i promise, you wouldn't ruin anything, and it's all good for me."

he tilts his head to see your eyes. "no rush?"

"no rush." you kiss him on his chin. "but still, you don't have to wait."

aegon kisses you and he feels a deadweight has been lifted from his chest. he thinks it's all gonna be okay, now that you know his true intentions. he pulls you on his lap until he sits on bed, he leans against headboard. the kiss takes his breath away, he helps you sit properly on him.

"we can continue if you want, or we can stop here." he whispers to your ear. "anything you want."

"i want you, aegon." you whisper back.

he likes that combination of words. he helps you take your shorts off without leaving the bed, you pull down his sweatpants and his boxers. aegon touches your inner leg, your skin is hot. he drags his fingers further until he finds what he's looking for.

you lift your hips against him, he's getting harder every passing second. you wrap your fingers around him, stroking him until he's fully hard.

"i'm not gonna last if you keep doing that." he says desperately.

"can we stay like this?"

you smile and give him a kiss. your fingers guide him to your entrance and he helps you putting it in by angling himself properly. your wetness slides against him, he tries to find your clit after a moment of catching his breath. you hold the hand on your cunt, bringing it to your mouth to kiss the back of it.

he agrees, he doesn't think he can manage to last long with fast movements and strong strokes. this is grounding and calming, he is fully inside you and you are comfortable on his lap. you keep him inside you as you put your head on his chest. he kisses your hair and rubs your back.

"thank you for being honest with me." you say. aegon realizes your voice gets sleepy and he keeps rubbing your back.

he kisses your forehead as a way of answering. "come on, let's go back to sleep." he slides down on bed to put his head on the pillow.

you nod. "but we'll continue once we wake up."

aegon laughs. "we kinda have to, i don't know how to handle more of your teasings at this point."

"i'm not teasing you!"

"yeah, baby, of course you're not." he rolls his eyes and smiles.

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #modern!aegon

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neon-junkie · 9 months

Text

Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons

This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...

Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.

Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.

"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"

Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.

He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.

Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.

Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.

The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.

It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.

Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.

Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."

Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.

He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.

"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.

Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?

"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."

And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Oh, how right Hunter is.

Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.

Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.

You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.

He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.

So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.

"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."

"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.

"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.

You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.

Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.

"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"

"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.

"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.

"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."

Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.

Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.

"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.

Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."

One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!

Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.

Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.

Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.

He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.

But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.

You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.

You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."

Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?

Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.

Obvious to everyone, but you.

You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.

Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.

The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.

Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.

Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.

"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.

In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.

He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.

"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.

"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.

Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."

"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.

"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."

You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.

Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."

"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.

In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.

Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.

Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.

Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.

After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.

Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.

You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.

#tbbwriting #tbb #the bad batch #chef!crosshair #crosshair #line cook!crosshair #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #bad batch #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #headcanon #sfw

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Note

WE NEED A SEQUEL TO BEAUTY IN THE BODEGA NEOOOWWW

Beauty in the Bodega: part 2 (Fluff)

MM!Leonardo x reader

Part 1

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A/N: And a sequel you get!💙😘

I know this kind of messes up the idea that April is the first human to know about them, but I just really wanted to do this. Also, I know most food displays don't have alarms, but for the sake of the story we just roll with it.

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

Warnings: None💙

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Once every week, Leo and his brothers would go on grocery runs, and every week they would change it up a bit. They knew from experience that hitting up the same place too many times in a row, would cause them to up the security. Therefore they would go from bodega to bodega, the further apart the better. That had brought them all over New York City, to places they normally never would get to see. But with every grocery run they went on, Leo couldn’t help but look towards the door, and hoped that you, the beautiful human girl, would walk through it one more time, in a totally different part of the city.

It had been two months since Leo saw you in the grocery store. Two whole months since you had left the party size Doritos bag outside of the sewer for Leo to find. And during those two months, Leonardo continuously thought of you. Lucky for him, no one in his family found it suspicious how fast he had gotten those Doritos. He told them it would be a minute, what else would there be to say?

During the nights in those two months, Leo would lay in bed and stare at the pipes above him, listening to his brother’s snoring, and wonder about you. Who were you? What was your name? How old were you? Did you think about him? And most importantly, if you did think about him, did you think about him just as much as he thought of you?

It was during those nights that Leo would borrow Donnie’s headphones, and look up the song he had heard you sing. It was happy and upbeat, giving Leo some much needed joy in his thoughts about you. And it quickly became the backdrop to his thoughts about you, turning every thought sweet and bright. It even played in the back of his head as he and his brothers returned to the exact bodega he had seen you in.

This time was easier than the last time. The cashier had fallen asleep behind their crossword, giving the boys all the time they needed to collect their things. All they were missing was the junk food and those Doritos their dad had fallen in love with.

As Raph and Donnie was packing everything in the vent into bags, and Leo was looking for the Doritos, Mikey slowly snuck behind the counter to find the good junk food. The good hotdogs they would warm for you, and the good cakes with a lot of filling. But when Leo got the shelf he usually would find the Doritos, he was confused when he saw none, only to realize they were at a different shelf.

Oh no. They had moved around. That meant…

Mikey opened the glass to the hotdogs, only to be surprised by a blaring alarm that rang in their ears. The cashier woke up, causing Mikey to hide the only place he could find - right under the counter. Leo once again hid behind the shelf, heart beating in fear as the cashier grumbled and shouted.

“Where are you?!”, the cashier yelled. "Thieves! Where did you go!?”

Suddenly the bell above the door rang, altering people to a new person in the bodega. Leo squished his eyes shut. Every fear his father ever had instilt him came forward, making him think of the worst.

“They ran that way!” Leo’s snapped open. He knew that voice. He could recognize that voice anywhere. He had been dreaming about it for two months. “Just down the street! I saw them!”

Leo looked through the shelves to see you standing at the counter, pointing out to the street.

“Are you sure!?”, the cashier asked. “What did they look like?!”

“I don’t know! They were those dumb hoods with holes!”, you yelled, creating a sense of urgency. “Hurry! Before they get too far!”, you yelled, pulling the cashier out from behind the counter, before pulling them with you and out the door.

With the coast clear, Leo ran to get Mikey from his hiding spot under the counter, before helping him up into the vent. They hurried to the roof, where they watched you pull the cashier into the opposite direction than the one they would go.

—

“I was scared they would catch us!”, Donnie said as they returned to the alleyway. “I mean, did you see them?! They were about to go ballistic!”

“I was so sure we would get milked!”, Mikey said, running his hand over his face.

“Will you shut up with the milking?”, Raph asked as he opened up the sewer entrance. “You’re gonna make me hurl!”

“Okay, but let’s make one thing clear”, Leo said, using his big brother voice. “We can’t tell dad about what happened tonight”.

“Then how do we explain why we didn’t get all he asked for?”, Mikey asked, nodding towards the bag in his hand.

“We will just tell him that Leo’s girlfriend came by, so we decided to get the hell out of there”, Raph said, pulling the manhole open. “He will understand that”.

“She’s not my girlfriend”, Leo mumbled, kicking his feet against the pavement. At least not in real life. In his head you and him got together long ago, and had been going strong for the past two months.

“Sure, lover boy”, Donnie chuckled, as he climbed down into the sewer. “Don’t act like you don’t talk in your sleep”.

“I do not!”, Leo panicked, feeling his voice crack.

“Whatever you say”, Raph smiled, climbing down after Mikey.

Leo sighed and followed his brothers down, handing his bags to them before closing up the manhole. He was about to climb down, when he heard it.

“Dorito boy? Is it you down there?”

Leo froze. It was you. With that voice, there was no about about it. Slowly Leo looked down to his brothers, checking to see if they had heard you. They hadn’t. They were laughing at something Mikey had said, totally unaware of the fact that Leo hadn’t moved from the top of the ladder.

“Guys”, Leo called out, catching his brother's attention. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute”.

“If it’s for those Doritos, I think dad can live one week without them”, Donnie said, crossing his arms.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that”, Mikey said. “Remember the last time one of us ate them? He watched soap operas for a whole week straight!”

Leo sighed once more. Why did his brothers had to be like this? “Just go ahead, please!”

“Okay! Okay!”, Raph said, hands in the air. “We’re leaving! We’re leaving - Damn. Someone’s angsty today!”

Leo waited until he was sure his brothers had left, before slowly opening the manhole cover once more. Trembling, he was met by your feet standing right in front of him. He gulped before looking up, finding you staring directly down at him with a smile.

“Hey”, you said with a warm smile.

“Hey”, he said back. He couldn’t believe it! He was talking to a human! And not just any human, but you! He was surely dreaming. There was no way-.

“Are you going to stay down there all night?”

“Uhm… no, sorry”. Leo fumbled over his words as he climbed out of the manhole. Standing in front of you, he felt his heart flutter a bit. He was taller than you. Not by a lot. Maybe a few centimeters. But it was enough to make his face hot. He had no idea what to do. He was standing in front of a human! A beautiful human of all! This was nothing like his dreams and thoughts had told him it would be like. In those he had been brave, telling you everything he felt.

“You’re really bad at remembering stuff, did you know that?”

Your words caught Leo off guard. He wasn’t sure what you meant, until he saw what you had in your hands. A bag full of party size Doritos and a bag full of warm hotdogs. Leo stared at them, unable to form words.

“They have upped the security quite a bit since last time. They found the bag you dropped and figured you would come back for more. That’s the reason why they moved them”, you explained. “You guys should probably wait more than two months before going back there”.

Leo was careful when he took the bags from your hands, fearing you would disappear the moment you took them. Instead he accidentally grazed his hands against yours, causing him involuntary to tense up. You chuckled, making his shoulders soften a bit.

“Th- thank you”, he managed to stammer out, mentally cursing himself for his voice crack. “It- it’s really nice of you. Can I pay back in some way?”

You shook your head, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "No no, it’s okay. I figured you and your friends needed it”, you smiled, your eyes lingering on his for a moment. “By the way, I'm (Y/N)".

Leo’s hands shook, the bag rustling as they did so. He quickly hid them behind his back, noticing the amused expression on your face. He relaxed his shoulders once again, before managing enough courage to extend you a hand.

"Leo," he replied, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "It's nice to meet you, (Y/N)".

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

talking in your sleep pt 2

Summary: You wake up 14 hours after your Melatonin-aided much needed sleep and face the aftermath of your confession to Loki. A confession you believed was a dream.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: implied smut, Loki being hot (not sure if this needs to be a warning but it's there), mild angst (?) [let me know if i missed anything!]

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that it was dark outside. You'd slept the day away. Maybe even more. But you felt rested, fully energized, ready to go back to your office and face the behemoth that was the security system of the Ten Rings.

Just as you were about to stand up and head back to said office, you vaguely remembered Tony's words about not wanting to see you in your office for the next seven days. That was when you noticed the next thing. This wasn't your home. You didn't even remember leaving the tower. But you did remember bits and pieces of a conversation between Loki and Natasha arguing about whose room you would sleep in.

"FRIDAY?" you called out into the dark empty space.

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" the AI answered.

"Could you tell me what day it is, how long I've been asleep, and then turn the lights on at 50%?"

"Certainly, Miss Y/L/N. It's Friday, the 16th, and you were asleep for fourteen hours. Turning on lights at 50% brightness." As light slowly filled the room, you took note of your surroundings. The neatly organized shelves, the helmets hung on the walls, the emerald green bedspread that was an almost exact match to the clothes you were wearing.

You groaned. "I'm in Loki's room?"

"Indeed you are, Miss Y/L/N. And I've been instructed by Mister Laufeyson to tell you to meet him at the kitchen when you wake. Will that be all?"

"Yes, FRIDAY, that will be all. Thank you." You took a look around the room, trying to remember anything more than fleeting moments of the last two hours before you fell asleep, to no avail. So you decided instead to follow FRIDAY's words and make your way down to the kitchen to meet Loki.

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed that the tower was strangely quiet for a Friday night. "Lo?" you called out into the quiet space, your voice echoing from the walls.

"In here, darling," you heard him call out. When you walked into the kitchen, you had to catch yourself at the sight of him wearing only a pair of green silk pajama bottoms, a match to the sheets upstairs. You willed your eyes not to roam, not to appreciate his literal godly form, to keep them trained on his face. Big mistake, because once he turned around and his eyes met yours, a devilish smirk crossed his features and his eyes roamed your form. "You are quite the beguiling sight in my colors, dear Y/N. I may have to tell Romanoff she's not getting those clothes back."

"You plan on keeping them for yourself?" you quipped, trying your best not to let his gaze affect you. But then he set the plate in his hand down and made his way over to you, crowding your space.

"You have your wits about you again. That's good," he said in a low almost whisper. "You should tell her you're keeping this for yourself." His tone was almost authoritative, as if he wasn't giving you room to protest. You suddenly get flashbacks of him declaring that you would stay with him while you slept in that same tone. Except this time there was a softness to his words, like he was trying to wrap you in them, in his presence.

It's like he's seducing me, you thought to yourself. But there's no way; you're being delusional, Y/N. Of course you were. He didn't see you that way. He never would.

You struggled to compose yourself. "I thought you had a thing against people wearing your colors."

You felt your heartbeat at your fingertips as you watched him raise his hand and slid his finger under and along the strap of your camisole. "Perhaps under the correct circumstances, I would be willing to share." And then he looked at you through his lashes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating altogether.

The way you saw it, there were two options. Keep the flirty banter going and see how far he'd take it, or stop it where it stood and play it off like a joke between friends. You didn't trust yourself not to get hurt with the first choice. "Pssh," you chuckled. "You know for a second there, Lo, I could've sworn you were flirting." And you gently nudged his hand away and sat down on a stool by the kitchen island. "Where is everybody, by the way?"

"They went out to one of Stark's many clubs to intoxicate themselves on inferior ale and gyrate all over strangers they will cease to remember by morning. Maximoff left that out for you and told me to make sure you ate it once you woke up."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"Nothing in that image fit my rendition of an enjoyable time, darling. And there are far more important things to attend to."

"Such as?"

"Ensuring that someone I care for is taken care of after she endangered herself the way she did this week." There was no mischief in his eyes as he said the words, as he stared into yours, like he was trying to see into your soul. "Y/N, swear to me you'll never be that reckless again. When you nearly fell earlier…" He seemed to fight back his sentiment.

You placed your hand over his. "I promise," you said softly. "I just forgot--"

"You cannot afford to forget these things, Y/N." His voice sounded almost desperate. Then he took a deep breath. "I don't want to live in a world bereft of you a day sooner than I absolutely have to. I do not wish to even contemplate that world, do you understand?" You had no words, no witty comebacks, no jokes, nothing. All you could do was nod as he held on to your free hand, returning your nod as he raised your joint hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He then let go and motioned to the plate of pasta in front of you. "Eat, darling."

You did your best to focus the next several minutes solely on finishing your plate, rather than allowing your mind to wander in the direction of the smoldering shirtless god standing by the counter pretending to leaf through a book, when in reality he was watching your every movement.

Once you were finally done he ceased his charade and walked over to place himself behind your seat. You visibly stilled as you felt him reach from behind you to slide your plate over to the side, and then proceeding to lean over and rest his chin on your shoulder.

"What’s up?" You did your best to sound casual. He wasn’t ever like this with you. Whatever this was. So to have him behaving like this now? It was jarring, that was for sure.

"Did you know you talked in your sleep, dear Y/N?" Your breathing hitched as you both felt and heard his words, what with him having his lips so dangerously close to your ear. The effects he and that absolutely sinful voice of his had on you felt like they were magnified. Tenfold.

You took a deep, slow breath, trying to find your footing, finally taking notice of how he’d placed his hands on the marble top, effectively trapping you between him and the kitchen counter. You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Nice try, Lo. I know I don't." You made a motion as if to step off your seat, but his next motions kept you right where you were, as you watched his his forearms flex ever so slightly and he stepped even closer to you and you felt his chest pressing against your upper back. It was clear the message he was trying to send across to you. Don't move an inch.

"That may be so," he started speaking again. He let go of the island and proceeded to sweep your hair over your shoulder with one hand and wrapped his other arm loosely around your waist. "But you say the most interesting things when you're under the influence of that medication, in the moments before you succumbed to its full effects."

Your blood ran cold as you got flashbacks of the most wonderful dream. You were laying in bed, in Loki's arms, as he asked you if you were his. And you told him you were and that you were defenseless against his perfection, that you fell in love with him. Such a damn shame you don't feel the same way.

"That wasn't a dream," you whispered, barely even able to breathe properly as you felt his nose tracing along the length of your exposed neck. "You know." You were doing your best to choke back the sob that threatened to escape you.

"I do."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was barely audible. Any louder and you were sure to be a sobbing mess in his arms.

"What ever for, darling?" His words came out so softly, so lovingly, with just a hint of longing. But surely you were imagining it. Right? "You've done nothing wrong."

"I don't know," you whispered, on the verge of hysterics. "I just feel like I should be apologizing for something." And then another flashback. A dream – no, a memory – of you pressing your lips to his neck right before everything went black. Your breath hitched. "I'm sorry I kissed you."

"Don't be, my precious girl," he crooned. "I quite enjoyed it. The feel of your soft, luscious lips on my skin. It was as if the universe stopped; I wanted it to. I wanted that fleeting moment to go on for eternity." What? "The only thing I did not enjoy was you succumbing to slumber before I could return the favor." Oh, you were sure you stopped breathing now. Was he really saying what you think he was saying? "No matter. You're awake now."

You went near frigid in his hold as you felt him press his lips softly to your skin, and he let out an audible exhale that felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. If you thought he would stop at one, you were adorably naive.

He proceeded to press kiss after kiss to your skin, each getting less chaste, more frantic. You began to question if you were still dreaming, but feeling the edges of the stool you gripped so tightly in your hands digging into your palms told you you most definitely were not. This was real. This was all real.

"Relax, darling," he whispered into your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You could've sworn your heart stopped beating the moment you felt his tongue flick against your skin. His hold on you tightened so slightly as he moved his lips to your jaw. "You have nothing to fear. You've done nothing wrong, my little mortal." His lips moved closer to yours, stopping at the corner of your mouth and pressing a kiss there. "All you've done is the impossible."

"Which is?" you breathed out, surprised there was any air in your lungs at all after receiving this kind of attention from him. You never thought he would; you often forbid yourself to even dream it. You wouldn't dare, because even in your dreams where you were undoubtedly the best version of yourself, even there you never saw yourself worthy of him.

"I won't tell you until you relax, dear Y/N," he teased, his lips moving against your skin, so tantalizingly close to your lips. "Let go of the breath you're holding and lean in to me."

"I'll fall."

"You won't. I'm here. You're safe with me. You always have been." That did you in and finally you slowly felt yourself loosening your grip on your seat, exhaling and doing exactly what he asked, leaning against him. "Good girl," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, gently tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. "All you've done is love me. As I've loved you."

Before you could respond, he captured your lips with his in a kiss that was heated but held such restraint, as if he was still testing the waters with you. Your heart felt like it was soaring as you started to wrap your head around what was happening, as if a fire was ignited in you that warmed your entire body.

When he pulled away from you, you immediately felt the loss, craving his kiss once more. If you'd thought you were intoxicated by being in his presence before, you were downright drunk on it now. Addicted, even. "Oh, my love. My darling Y/N. It seems one taste of you and I've become insatiable." The feeling's mutual, you thought to yourself, unable to form words. There was that word again. Love. He turned you around in your seat so that you were facing him. "Look at me." You tilted your head up to look into his steel blue eyes, your breath hitching as you saw all the emotions swimming in them. "I want you to say it. Say the words that made me whole. I want to gaze upon your ethereal perfection as you say it. Please, Y/N."

You took a breath, and the words spilled out of you, as if you couldn't say them fast enough. "I love you, Loki Laufeyson."

You watched as the brightest smile lit up his face before he leaned in to kiss you again. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N." He lifted you into his arms and you wrapped your legs around him, as if by instinct. Like you were meant to do this. Made for it, even. "The only damned shame is that we failed to tell each other sooner. I could have had you so much sooner."

He began to walk you back up the stairs when the elevator doors dinged and opened to reveal Tony and the rest of the team coming back. He took one look at the two of you and blurted out, "I don't even wanna know. I'll see you the week after next, Y/N."

"Keep the clothes, Y/N," Natasha hollered. "Suits you better anyway."

You couldn't be bothered to respond, not like you could anyway. Your lips were otherwise occupied. So you gave a half-hearted thumbs up and waved goodbye at the team watching what was transpiring from the common area.

"Well it's about goddamn time," you heard Wilson boom from the doors. "So who had money on tonight?"

"I did," you heard Wanda answer him. "I told you all to never bet against me, but none of you listened. And now I'm rich. Should I silence Loki's room?" You didn't hear the response. You didn't care.

You faintly heard a door closing before you felt your back hit the silken sheets of his bed. "I must remember to thank Stark for giving you a week away from your duties," he murmured as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. "We have an abundance of lost time to make up for, my love."

"Everyone knows exactly what's happening right now," you gasped out, your filter going completely out the window once again.

He pressed a kiss above your heart before looking up at you through his lashes. "Does that bother you? That they know?"

A devious smirk graced your lips as you coyly shook your head. "Not really, no."

A/N: Does this still count as fluff? I don't know anymore lol

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @redbluekjw @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @ficitve-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fanfic #muddyorbs writes

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amber-michaelson · 2 years

Text

Fallen Angel

Yandere Bowers Gang x reader

-Headcanon here-

Summary: they are obsessed and decide to act on it

Read at own risk

Warning: swearing

Fm = favorite movie

Yn pov

"Hello" I smiled sitting next the platinum blonde boy "I'm yn" I said and took out my books "victor" he greeted quietly before the teacher started speaking and through the lesson victor explained the previous lesson and showed me his notes which I gladly expected the help before the bells go "thanks so much victor how will I ever repay you" I asked packing up my stuff "you don't have to but whenever you need help just come to me" he smiled putting his bag over his shoulders "I'll make sure to keep that in mind" I murmured and went our separate ways, over my first week me and victor got closer and he's been helping me a lot "bye vic" I smiled and walked into my history class and sat at my normal spot in the back "good day class today we will be preparing a project which will be due in 2 weeks" the class groaned in disappointment "don't worry you will be able to pick your own partners" I looked around for anyone familiar but nothing "can I be your partner" I turned to the voice and see one of the people that hang around victor "of coarse I don't mind" I smiled and moved my bag to make room for him "yn and belch you will do ancient Rome" the teacher explained and did the rest of the groups and aloud us to go to the library "so yn I see you hang around victor" belch made small talk as we gazed for books on the shelves "yeah he helps me with my homework and tutors me" I smiled and started piling the books in my hand "let me carry those" he smiled taking the books out my hands "oh thank you belch".

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Time skip▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

I smiled as me, victor and belch made our way down the hall "hey guys who's this" we paused as two boys stepped in front of us "oh hey Henry" victor murmured "hi I'm yn" I smiled at both of them "well cutie I'm Patrick" the one smiled licking his lips "I'm Henry" the other crossed his arms "well its nice to meet you two but I need to get to my maths class bye guys" I smiled and walked away.

And everyday day after that I was the new member of the bowers gang and over the time the boys became more and more disappointed if I talk to anyone but them or gave anyone my attention "guys come on it was one thing" I whined as they kept quiet as we made our way behind school to belchs car so we can get something to eat "but you could've asked us" victor muttered and opened the door for me I climbed in with victor and Patrick sitting next to me "why are you so protective" I asked but didn't get a response instead silence filled the car the only sound was the soft tones coming from the radio "belch can I have a water" I murmured leaning forward "yea here" Henry muttered handing me a bottle of water I slowly uncapped it and took a sip and closed it back up "this isn't the way to the has station" I murmured but slowly started to feel dizzy and my vision started fading "what did you do" I leaned forward and felt tired "it's OK now" Victor's voice turned to whispers before I blacked out completely 'this is where the nightmare begans'.

My eyes adjust to the darkness it had been a few hours since belch dropped of breakfast for me they'd lock the door to the room I was in except for the attachment bathroom, the room had no windows and was lit up by a flickering light.

"Babe we're home" I sighed in relief as Henry unlocked the door it was getting more and more boring when they leave I was starting to actually miss them "we were thinking how about we go into the lounge and watch a movie" victor smiled sitting on the edge of my bed "you mean leave the room" I was shocked I haven't left the room on months "yes since you've been so good we want to reward you" I giggle happily and jumped up and hugged them "come on tiger" Patrick murmured and lifted me up and carried me down stairs while the others got get the stuff ready "how was your day" I asked as he settled us onto the couch with me on his lap "it was good but missed feeling your but on my dick" I blushed as he slightly grinded against me "Patrick stop being a perv" Henry smacked the back of Patrick's head while giving me a blanket and setting beside me while victor brings the drinks and sits on the other side of me and belch brings the snacks and settles between my legs "what do you wanna watch" Henry passes me the remote "how about fm" I put on fm and snuggled into Patrick's chest 'maybe this isn't a nightmare after all'.

My other it works

Check out my other works

#x reader #x reader fluff #yandere x reader #yandere it x reader #yandere it #it stephen king #it x reader #yandere bowers gang #yandere bowers gang x reader #bowers gang x reader #bowers gang #yandere x willing darling #yandere x willing reader #fluff #yandere fluff

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hyperfixation-fix · 3 days

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I had DPDR (depersonalisation/derealisation) disorder as a teen. For those who don't know, DPDR is when your brain is so overwhelmed by pain and fear and misery that it decides the only way to survive is to disconnect. Depersonalisation is where your brain severs the connection between your consciousness and your body, so it feels like your body isn't real/isn't yours. Derealisation is where your brain severs the connection between your consciousness and the world around you, so the world itself doesn't feel real.

Nico (almost) losing himself to Shadow Travel in BoO hits a little too close to home. It's exactly how it feels to experience the world and your body slipping out of your grasp as a DPDR episode flares up.

It feels like dying, from the outside in.

Always have, always will headcannon Nico as having DPDR, and recovering from it as he finds a home at CHB.

If you're curious, I've put more of my experience below. But please proceed with caution - I've tried to keep it non-triggering but there are a lot of detailed descriptions of DPDR, so if that's going to trigger you, please don't read on. Take care of yourself ❤️

I mostly experienced derealisation. I'm currently in a bad episode for the first time in years, and it's interesting (if terrifying) to revisit this feeling.

It feels like you're dreaming or hallucinating, or like there's a thick layer of gel between your consciousness and everything else. Any outside stimuli - ideas, words, experiences, sensations - get lodged in the gel and while I can see them, I can't engage with them. If I really want to, I have to reach out through the gel, force my way through it, grab ahold of the stimulus, and yank it back through the gel and into my brain. It works, but it's slow and exhausting.

I have a vivid memory of the moment I realised my brain was broken, really and truly broken (or it felt like it). I was 11 or 12, standing in my friend's kitchen. She'd asked me to get something out of the pantry, but I just stared into it. Shapes and colours filled the shelves, but they weren't things, they didn't mean anything. I had to reach through the gel layer around my mind and drag each item in, so I could hold it up in my brain next to the thing I was looking for and go, "no, they don't match. Next."

This broken-brain-thing happened every few months or so, and although I felt crazy, the doctor said there was nothing wrong except slightly low vitamin D. So I ignored the pit of dread in my stomach and kept keeping on.

5 years later, I took an overnight flight for a school trip and missed a night of sleep. I dozed off in the museum, and when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't awake. I could have sworn my feet weren't touching the ground when I walked, and that the familiar faces of my friends warped slightly in front of me, and I was sure they disappeared entirely when I turned my back. My body tingled and my brain felt fuzzy. Was I dreaming still? The clocks told the time correctly, and I could feel my head ache dully, but... the world didn't feel right. And as I floated down the corridor, down the steps, into the bus, I became more and more certain that if this was a dream, it was only a matter of time before it became a nightmare. And the more terrified I became, the more I could feel my consciousness sinking deeper into my brain, further and further away from the world. I cried and shook and shut down, and the teacher phoned my parents, who were furious that I had wasted the trip. I was welcomed home with scathing silence and biting judgement. My brain decided then and there that it was done, that is was out. of. options. If I was going to survive the next 2 years, then staying disconnected was the only way to do it.

So I got through my final years of high school and my first year of uni in a haze. I got top grades. Of course I did - my brain was on autopilot. Finally, I got the right therapy, medication, diagnosis. I moved out. Slowly, slowly, the wall of gel thinned and dissipated, and the world was real again.

Now I almost never feel like this. As much as I hate it, I know it will go away again, like it has before. I know this is my brain wrapping me in cotton wool while it drags me through the thicket of thorns to the other side. I know it's worried about me, and trying to keep me safe, and I'm thankful for that.

#pjo #riordanverse #percy jackson #rick riordan #my posts #fandom #adhd #neurodivergent #nico di angelo #mental health #mental health matters #dpdr #dissociation #derealization #depersonalization

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 13)

Previous Part

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy and (Y/N) get closer than they ever have before, but then (Y/N) remembers something standing between them. Later, she is finally able to speak with Grace, which leaves her unsure of what to do next, so she goes to find the one person she can count on for the right answer.

Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, mentions of strained familial relationships

Word Count: 3883

A/N: this was an exciting chapter for me to write…I hope it’s equally as exciting for you to read. Things are heating up now. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in the series!

Despite her several attempts, (Y/N) was unable to find the woman that she wanted to talk to for a handful of days following the incident that happened after John's wedding. All of her attempts turned up empty, and it seemed as though Grace had turned into a ghost; she was nowhere to be seen.

(Y/N) was working the late shift tonight. Harry had asked her to come back in and help with restocking and some inventorying, among other things. She didn't mind it. There was a strange sense of peace that overcame her as she watched the bar slowly empty as closing time grew nearer. She was going about filling shelves in the stockroom when she heard footsteps approaching her from behind. Her breath got stuck in her throat as she quickly whipped around, and she only let it out in a relieved sigh when she found that it was Harry.

"All good, (Y/N)?" he asked, noticing that he'd startled her.

"Yeah," she nodded, steadying her breathing, "I wasn't expecting you to come in here," she told him the reason why she'd reacted the way she did.

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "Would you be able to clean up the bar when you're finished here?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded her head, her answer making Harry nod as well.

"Thanks," he said to her before he turned and exited the stockroom.

(Y/N) went back to work on unpacking the box in front of her. It only took her a few minutes to empty it, and she made sure that it was discarded to the side before exiting the stockroom. She then got started with cleaning up the main room, first dealing with the floors, cleaning the tables and stacking the chairs. Then she moved to the bar and cleaned off the counter before making sure that the bottles shelved behind it were orderly and filled. She replaced those that weren't before she grabbed the broom and bucket and made her way over to the snug's door. She got a surprise upon opening it.

"Mr. Shelby. I'm sorry...I didn't know you'd be in here," she said, shock laced into her tone as she found Tommy sitting in his chair with a half empty bottle of whiskey and a glass sitting on the table in front of him.

Tommy looked up when he heard her voice, feeling slightly surprised by her sudden entrance. He didn't let that show though. "Mr. Shelby?" he instead questioned her, the slightest of grins appearing on his lips as he quirked an eyebrow upwards.

"It came out before I could catch it, Tommy," she responded, exaggerating her saying of his first name as a sheepish smile graced her features. "Harry told me to clean the bar up. I figured he meant in here too," she told him the reason behind her presence.

"Don't let me stop you then," he said to her, going about lighting a cigarette as he leaned back in the chair, watching her as she dropped the bucket to the ground and began sweeping.

(Y/N) was able to feel his gaze on her, and it was making her heat up more by the second. She carefully carried out her movements so that she wouldn't trip up and look like a dunce while doing it. "What are you doing here so late?" she asked, deciding to make conversation and break the silence when it became apparent to her that he had no intentions of leaving.

"Needed to clear me head," he answered her, stamping out his spent cigarette in the ashtray before he poured himself some more whiskey.

"Something troubling you?" the words left her mouth before she could stop them.

Tommy didn't seem to mind though. He just snorted and went about lighting himself another cigarette. "It's obvious?" he asked then, looking at her as he took a drag.

"You're in here...by yourself, with a half drank bottle of whiskey, and that's the second cigarette I've seen you light in the span of the five minutes I've been in here," (Y/N) pointed out what she'd observed, "and it seems as though they weren't your first two of the day," she then motioned to the ashtray that had a handful of cigarettes in it.

"It is obvious," he said, exhaling smoke as he dropped his gaze to the table, "I've got a lot on me mind," he added then, a solemn tone laced into his words.

(Y/N) stopped sweeping and looked at him for a moment. She said nothing as she propped the broom up against the wall and made her way over to the booth. She sat down and moved as close to his chair as she could. Tommy glanced over at her as she kept her gaze on him. "It may not be my place to pry, but I've found in the past that talking about it helps," she told him, watching intently for his reaction to her words. He said nothing, only taking a drag of his cigarette. (Y/N) decided to continue, "are things still rough from after the wedding?" she hazarded a guess, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"They are," he gave her a short answer, but those two words told her all that she needed to know.

She wondered for a moment whether or not she should clue him in on what she'd been thinking about the blonde barmaid that had practically gone missing since that night.

After a few quiet moments, she thought against it. "Ada'll come around. She's in a vulnerable place at the moment, and since there's a lot of unknowns in the situation, she's decided to place blame on what she knows," she tried to add some insight into the conversation.

"I don't see a way around the blame...how am I to show her that I wasn't the one that got Freddie taken when I have no fucking clue how he was found out in the first place?" he threw a question out this time. He didn't want to tell her that he'd met with the inspector a few days back and was told that he was the reason Freddie got taken because it made no sense in his mind. All he knew was that it was looking like there would be no way around this.

"Give it time for more things to come to light," (Y/N) gave a vague answer to his question. The exact answer was burning in the back of her mind, but she didn't know if she should let it out. Was it even the answer? She didn't know yet.

"And on top of all of this, my fucking father decides to come back into the picture," Tommy then added another layer onto the conversation.

"Yeah?" (Y/N) answered, phrasing her single weird response like a question so that hopefully he'd continue.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "he's proposed some grand fucking scheme to Arthur...hoping that he'd get some interest, but all he wants is money from us," he exhaled a sigh as he finished his sentence, picking the smoldering cigarette up from the ashtray so that he could take another drag from it.

(Y/N) nodded as she listened to what he had to say. "It's a fine line that you walk with family...forever wondering if their intentions are good or not," she said to him then, making him look over at her, "and some can see right through them; others have a hard time because they're family. Family isn't supposed to stab each other in the back."

"But they do," Tommy interjected.

"They most certainly do," (Y/N) was quick to agree with him, and she took a deep breath before continuing, "my father and I never had the best relationship. I was always cast aside because I wasn't one of his sons...I would never have a stake in the family business, and he was sure to remind me of that time and time again."

Tommy listened intently to her story, surprised that she was willing to open up about her past. "My father walked out on my family ten years ago; when we were at our lowest and had nothing to our name," he decided to give her a little bit of insight into his past. It was only fair since she was sharing hers with him.

"And now that you are making something of yourself, he comes back," she connected the pieces of the story.

"It can't be any more obvious," he remarked, snorting to himself as he shook his head, his eyes focusing on the snug's far wall.

"You seem to have it figured out then," she commented, no hint of malice in her words.

Tommy looked over at her again, seeing that her eyes were already locked on his. He noticed now just how close they were sitting to each other. He could practically feel the heat her body was letting off. He searched her eyes for a moment before letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I don't know..."

"I do," she picked up on his unsureness as he trailed off, and she was quick to thwart it, "you'll do what you know is best for your family. Some may get hurt in the process, but that's what happens when money, business, and family intertwine. It's a tough line to walk, but you're doing it pretty well for the amount of shit you've got going on," she said to him, her eyes not straying from his to show that she was being honest with her words.

It was obvious to her. He operated things in a more strategic manner than her family did, and she took refuge in that...in the fact that things would run their course and end well. Things here were way different than in Sheffield. She actually felt safe.

Silence hung in the room until (Y/N) broke it. "Trust in the fact that you know what to do, Tommy," she said to him softly, the slightest of smiles forming on her face.

Tommy let her words sink into his mind. He looked over her features, studying them carefully as he tried to commit that small smile to his memory; so that he could go to it when things were going sideways. He let his eyes flit down to her lips just briefly, analyzing them too before their eyes met again. She was still watching him intently, and it seemed as though they'd gotten ever closer than they were before. He then gently, hesitantly reached out and brushed the side of his thumb down her cheek, feeling her soft skin sliding under his calloused hand. He continued to study her face, trying to pick up on its slightest of changes as he held his hand against her cheek, secretly loving the warmth she was giving off.

The breath hitched in (Y/N)'s throat as she felt his hand brush her cheek. Her mind was screaming; all of her cylinders were firing, but on the outside she was as still as stone; waiting, hoping for him to make the next move. She kept her eyes locked onto his, wondering what would happen next. And secretly, she was excited for it.

Just like with his hand, Tommy hesitantly moved closer to her. His eyes flitted to her lips one last time before holding her gaze again.

(Y/N) noticed this and immediately knew what was coming. But yet she still didn't move away. She instead let her eyes flutter closed and prepared herself for what would happen in a matter of seconds. It wasn't until she felt his breath against her lips that reality kicked in. She gasped and opened her eyes, moving her head back just as his lips brushed hers.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, (Y/N)," Tommy breathed almost instantly when he realized that she was staring at him with wide eyes. "I...I wasn't thinking..." he trailed off when he couldn't form a coherent sentence, exhaling another curse word as he brought his hand up and pressed his fingers into his temples.

"No, I'm sorry, Tommy..." (Y/N) didn't accept his apology, but instead gave one of her own, "I shouldn't have let it get that far. Not with you and Grace being together," she added, the woman's name almost tasting like poison as it came out. And Matthew too, her brain scrambled to add, but it didn't leave her lips. Truth is, she hadn't been thinking about Matthew at that moment. She was entirely focused on Tommy; on what was happening between them.

Tommy's gaze snapped back to her after she finished speaking. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion before he was able to get the words out. "What do you mean with me and Grace?"

"She'd told me some time ago that you'd kissed her and told her that you wanted to be with her," she explained it exactly as she'd remembered it, making sure not to add the part where it felt like her heart had dropped at the confession.

Another wave of confusion washed over Tommy as this was said to him. "I've never said such a thing to her, and we've never kissed," he told her, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke.

Much like the night after the wedding, (Y/N) was able to see that he was telling the truth. She had more reason to believe him than she did the blonde woman who'd gone into hiding...this was now another lie that she'd have to confront her on.

"Oh, ok..." (Y/N) didn't quite know what to say, "I...I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Tommy told her, "but still...I'm sorry. I let my thoughts get the best of me," he admitted. (Y/N) smiled softly at him as she heard his statement. That damn smile, Tommy thought to himself, biting on the inside of his cheek.

"I...I think I just need some time," she told him after a few quiet moments had passed. She didn't want to say that he was out of line for trying to kiss her, because she secretly wanted it to happen too. She couldn't deny that.

"I'll give you all the time you need," he assured her, his words making her smile grow.

"Thank you, Tommy," she said then, feeling the need to do so. The fact that he respected her wishes and didn't continue to push her into something where she was uncomfortable spoke volumes to her. This never would have happened back in Sheffield. She shuddered slightly at the thought.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he flipped the thanks back onto her, "for being here, for listening to me, for fucking everything."

She smiled at him as she set her hand on his forearm, "I'm always here," she assured him, rubbing her thumb against the tweed fabric of his coat.

They stared at each other for a few moments before (Y/N) broke the gaze to look at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, and she still wanted to make another attempt at getting things set straight. "I should go now," she said, finally removing her hand from his arm as she moved to stand from the booth.

Tommy wanted to frown from the loss of her warmth, but he knew that it was justified. "Would you like me to walk you?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine," she turned down his offer. How awkward would it be if she finally found the person she'd been searching for and he was with her?

"Ok," he let it rest there, "goodnight, (Y/N)," he said to her, the smallest of smiles quirking his lips upward.

"Goodnight, Tommy," she repeated his statement, sending him a full-on smile as she opened the door to the snug and exited it.

—

It wasn't until she was halfway to her apartment that she remembered the broom and bucket that she'd left in the snug. Although she kicked herself for forgetting it, she decided that it was too late to turn back now. There were other, more important things at stake now.

She tried knocking on the door next to her twice; waiting out in the hall for five minutes before coming to the conclusion that there would be no answer. Annoyed by another failed attempt, she turned and headed to her apartment. Just as she was about to open the door, the unmistakable sound of footsteps were heard down the hall. The breath hitched in her throat as she waited by her doorway to see who they belonged to.

Soon enough, Grace came into view. She was walking quickly, and with her head down, but (Y/N) could identify her anywhere. She looked up as she got closer to her door, immediately seeing (Y/N) standing in the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight and she tried to hurry and open her door, but it was no use.

"It's too late to hide now, Grace," (Y/N) called out to her.

"What do you want?" Grace asked, her eyes still focused on the lock that she couldn't seem to get open.

"I need to talk to you," she answered, walking over to the blonde woman, "as I'm sure you've noticed...I know some things, and I'd like to give you the opportunity to set the record straight."

"About what?" the blonde was still playing dumb.

"I think you know exactly what," (Y/N) quipped back, "would you like to come to my apartment or go into yours instead? I'd rather not air this laundry out in the hallway," she added then, her eyebrows raised as she waited for her answer.

Grace sighed before she was finally able to open the door to her apartment. Without saying a word, she stepped inside, allowing the other woman to follow her in before she shut the door. "What is it that you want to speak about?" she was the one to break the silence, still playing coy.

"Chester Campbell isn't your father, is he?" (Y/N) started with the first of her questions, her eyebrows raised as she waited for Grace's answer.

"What makes you think that he isn't?" Of course she wasn't going to give up the ghost that easily.

"He's a special that's been sent here to deal with the trouble in the city...he was the one who took Ada's husband away just moments after he'd met his son," she detailed what had happened a few weeks ago, feeling her blood begin to boil as she did so.

"And what of it?" Grace was quick to ask.

"You knew where Ada lived! You were the anonymous person who tipped him off!" (Y/N) couldn't stop her voice from rising. She knew Grace was smart, which made the stupid act she'd been keeping up even more infuriating.

"Do you have proof of that?"

"I..." (Y/N) stopped herself before she could continue. She didn't have concrete evidence that connected Grace to this inspector, but all of the arrows were definitely pointing in her direction. A smug smirk formed on the blonde woman's face as she waited for the answer. "So it's just a grand coincidence that this inspector was meeting you here?" she finally asked after a few beats had passed.

"You don't have any proof, do you?" Grace's one eyebrow quirked upwards as she asked her own question, her mouth opened slightly to show her intrigue in (Y/N)'s response. It frustrated (Y/N) even more that she'd just blatantly disregarded her question.

"That family's business is not for you to mess with," (Y/N) held her ground, trying to gain control over the conversation again. She hadn't made it through all of her points yet. "And I've already caught you in one lie, so who's to say that you haven't been telling others?"

The slightest bit of color drained from Grace's face as she heard (Y/N)'s veiled statement. "What do you mean?" she asked, wanting more insight into where she might have messed up.

"Tommy told me the truth...you two aren't seeing each other, and he didn't kiss you like you said he did. And I'm even starting to wonder about that spot in the company he offered you; since your job hasn't changed at the Garrison since I've started working there," (Y/N) laid out the facts that she'd been told not long ago.

Grace pursed her lips as she heard what (Y/N) had to say. How would she get herself out of this one? "I already have what I need," she finally said, raising her chin as she spoke to show (Y/N) that the accusations weren't bothering her.

"And what is that exactly?" (Y/N) asked, her eyebrows raised.

"You'd be surprised how much talking Arthur does when he's drunk, and how much faith these Shelby men put into me," she was happy to answer, her smirk growing with each word.

Now (Y/N) was back on the defensive. "What have you done, Grace?" she was almost afraid to ask, but the words came out anyway. The blonde woman said nothing in response, but her expression told (Y/N) all that she needed to know. This conversation had just looped into one, giant circle. "You'll have hell to pay for this...and if it's not brought by the hands of the Shelbys, then it'll be by my own," she spoke in a low voice, a deathly serious tone laced into her words.

"You've decided to be their keeper now?" Grace didn't seem scared, but (Y/N) could tell that her countenance was on the verge of cracking.

"They're my family...and I intend to keep them safe," was all (Y/N) said before she turned to the door and exited the apartment.

Instead of going over to her own dwelling, she exited the building and quickly began walking to Watery Lane. On her way, she tried to figure out what she'd do with this information; with the woman who gave it to her. A million different scenarios we're running through her head, to the point where she didn't know what separated one from the other.

She finally decided on a plan as she approached the house she was looking for. She hoped that the woman she had in mind would be inside as she knocked on the door thrice to find that it was unlocked. After taking a deep breath and hoping that she wouldn't get shot, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The woman she was looking for was sitting on the couch in the living area with a younger child's head laying in her lap. Upon hearing footsteps, she turned to look at the door and raised her finger to her lips in a gesture that asked whoever it was to stay quiet. But her eyes widened when she saw someone she wasn't expecting standing there.

(Y/N) was just about out of breath, but she was still able to get her message across: "I know who did it, Pol...I know who told the inspector about Freddie."

Next Part

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