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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Clown Talk

Yandere Crime Harem + G.N Clown TV-Showhost Reader

Extortion. Aggravated Assault. Murder.

The list went on for the royal who had it all, and lost almost everything in one night.

A well respected and charitable figure in their community, it was a shock to the masses to see local casino owner, and frequent donor to hospitals framed on the five o'clock news for misconduct. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders and a realistic outlook on the world could see straight through the facade. Beneath that mask was a monster - every good deal that person ever committed a cover for their true goals.

Those they had helped plead their innocence. Those they had wronged tied their noose. The documents leaked to the public would tell which party was correct, wiped clean from history before the victor could be declared. Read aloud in court, each word marked a new trial at play. The execution of the rat bastard who got them into this whole ordeal in the first place.

The criminal know exactly who it was. Caught his hand in the cookie jar resembling their safe weeks ago, but they had enough of a heart to let him go for being the one person his little girl had. Not again. Day in and day out they dreamt of how they'd carry out their revenge. Splattering his brains all over the wall. Slicing him into cutlets and having a nice cookout for everyone involved. It was a beautiful dream. The one thing preventing the compete lost of their sanity. Shouldn't be too long now until their people manage to get them out and their hands around that bastard's neck. Only a matter of time-

"Quit mumbling to yourself- I can't hear the TV."

As if this hell couldn't get any worse. A desaturated rainbow flies across the television screen, showering an empty field with stars and hearts that sprout colorful flowers from the earth. The theme song for the show plays in the background; the strums of each guitar string and the voice humming along to the beat drilled into the criminal's head like psychological warfare. While the voice wasn't totally abysmal it still belonged to their greatest enemy. That fucking clown.

"Good Day, everyone! I've missed you all so much, and am so excited to meet all the new faces. Are you ready all for an exciting day of fun and new adventures?"

The few shouts of agreement make their ears bleed more. Needless to say the prison they had been thrown in was a shit hole. Terrible food, hard beds, and televisions that only played one station without interference. That neon haired, colorblock mess of an entertainer had haunted them from day one of their stay; the sounds chasing them whenever they fled to the sanctuary of their cell. Pathetically, while there were a couple naysayers, majority of the prison population had begun to actually like the show. A body hurls into the seat next to them.

"Thank fuck I didn't miss it. You staying this time, Zero?"

Zero's face wrinkles from the frown lines. 4D was a fellow intimate and the biggest fan of the show. A crook booked for various robberies who just like Zero was ratted on by an acquaintance. The nickname came from their tag including the number fourty and they thought it would be cool in unison with the one they forced onto Zero.

"I told you not to call me that."

"I get that you're some big hot-shot and "adults shouldn't be watching shows for kids.", but it's really good when you sit down and watch it. That clown ain't too bad on the eyes either."

Zero resists the urge to snap their fingers as they air quote. "I'd rather flush my head down a toilet."

"Come on! If ya watch it, I'll leave ya alone for the rest of your sentence."

That catches their attention. Armz crossed, Zero looks at the television. The set had switched to that of a kitchen as the clown speaks

"Juno has been feeling better down today, let's cheer him up with his favorite snack! Before we begin, make sure you always ask for an adults help when handing sharp objects or using the stove. Unless you are one yourself. "

With a wink, they throw an apron and go through the steps of making homemade rice treats with the audience. After putting the tray in the oven, they discreetly pull out another one with a full sheet of the treats already made. Marshmallow fluff and melted chocolate chips ooze from their sides as the clown cuts out a heart shaped piece with a cookie cutter.

"And there you go! A simple, fun activity you can do with family and friends, and even get something taste out of it. Juno prefers chocolate, but you can add a number of things to your own and let your imagination run wild."

Great. Now they were annoyed and hungry. They couldn't stand another segment.

"I'm leaving."

4D whines. "Whaaat? That was barely anything. Hey, don't go-"

They grab Zero's sleeve, but are powerless to stop them as they leave the common area and venture up to their room. Over the guard rail of the second floor, they watch the other inmates mindlessly crowded around the television screen and unironically enjoying it. They would've spat at them had it not been for the guard by their cell. Inside the room, their roommate had left the tv on and that same damned show was playing. They go to turn it off only to be cut off by a fake cry of pain.

"Ouch!"

The clown tumbles to the ground, figure looming over them off screen. They come into frame as they grip the clown's arm and helps them to their feet.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, Juno. I know it wasn't on purpose."

The two face the screen as the clown speaks.

"Sometimes our friends do or say things that hurt our feelings. Take a breath, hear them out, but there's one important rule. Remember - forgiveness and friendship aren't always mutual. Sometimes people we may think are our friends go too far, and they believe an apology will make everything okay, but that's not always the case. The best thing you can do is forgive - and let go."

The background music is soft. The clown's smile is sincere, but an offshoot of that silly expression they had moments ago. Forgive. That weasel? There's no way in hell they could. He ruined them. Damaged their imagine. The bitterness Zero held was the only thing that pulled them forward. But what would come after they got their revenge?

"That's all for day, folks! And don't forget- you all may be my helpers, but I am here to help you the most!"

The intimate ends up watching the show until lights out. Each episode holds a new life lesson, cushioned by the silly activites prior to them and the songs the clown and their friends sings at the end. Regrettably, Zero finds their lips twitching upwards and a hushed laugh in their chest at some of the clown's jokes. When the clown visits them in their sleep, the dreams didn't seem as bad as before.

The next day Zero finds 4D in the yard. They're hesitant to speak.

"So... Why exactly do you like that clown?"

4D drops the equipment in their hand, looking flustered. "Wow, uh, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. If it's so embarrassing, I can make it worth while."

4D refuses the cigeratte they offer. "I quit. It ain't nothing serious like that, we just... talked."

Zero raises a brow. "Talked? You some kind of nutcase or something?"

"Maybe, but what I mean is I sent them a letter. After all the rush and freedom of the things I did, I was going mad in here. I got no friends, no family. At the end of every episode there's an address so I thought I'd try and send them a letter. I never expected them to respond. Hell, I thought the guards would tear it up and laugh, but neither of those predictions were true. They... helped me. More than anyone ever had in my life. Even sent me a couple things when I hadn't asked. They're all I have."

4D wipes their face with their sleeve. Zero, unsure, raises their hand to their shoulder, but falls short of a comforting touch.

"..Thanks... Take care."

Zero sits in their cell when the next show comes end. They pen down the address on the screen, wondering if they were really going to go through with this. They write out their letter and hand it off to the only guard they trust.

"What do you do, when you've lost everything."

A response comes in a week's time.

"Hey, there!

First off, I want to say thank you for sending your letter in. From the address and the others I've spoken too, I know that you're going through a really tough time. It's understandable to believe you've lost everything, but there will always be a new ladder to climb to the top so long as you try your hardest. You may be in the dark for now, but the sun will shine again for you some day."

Zero loses track of how many times they read the letter. They can see eraser marks from when the writer rewrote their lines. It was the exact same penmanship as when the clown wrote their name on a drawing they had just finished, clearing out the possibility of it being an assistant on the show. Zero crumples the envelope and throws it in the trash, but tucks the letter under their pillow.

When they are released the following month, they're found sitting in front of the community television.

"Sunshine's beautiful this time of day, isn't it?"

"B...oss, I'm sorry, please."

Zero takes another drag of their cigar as his head is dunked into the freezing waters. The silence makes the scenario one for the books, but for some reason the sun just isn't as bright as it was on those dirty screens. They exhale as the bruised male is brought out of the sea once more.

"I forgive you, and now I'm letting go." They wave to the others on the boat. "Drop him. I don't want to be late for the show."

Arriving at the studio, a whiny voice drills from behind them.

"Aw, man- you got front row seats? Switch with your ol pal. Its the least you can do since I introduced you to them."

#Clown reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere drabble

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vanfleeter · 1 year ago

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Letting Her Go // JTK

Characters: Jake x Fem!reader Warnings: As always, 18+ so minors, please DNI! Angst. Heart break. Drinking. Swearing. Smut. Kissing. Sex. Penetrative sex (p in v). Unprotected sex.

Summary: Jake makes the mistake of letting you go. You come back to collect your things and having the closure you both don't want but need to do.

Hearing the front door open and close, you perk up on the couch and see Jake fly past the threshold of the living room and to the kitchen where you hear him rummaging through the fridge. Pushing off the couch, you go into the kitchen to find him filling a cooler with beer and ice.

“You’re going back out?” You ask as you lean against the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Uh.. Yeah..” He bustles around the area as he gathers more cold items and puts them inside the cooler. “Josh is inviting people over for a bonfire, super small.”

“Oh, okay. Should I-”

“I’m sorry babe, it’s only for work.” He says as he approaches you and kisses your cheek.

“Oh..”

“I promise I won’t be out late,” He says as he goes back to the cooler and pulls it off the counter. “I love you.” He gives you another kiss before disappearing out of the kitchen.

“I love you…” The door shuts as you speak and your shoulders slump. “..too..”

Huffing and looking around the kitchen, you go over to the stove and turn off the burner and move the pan to the side. You pull the lid from the pan, allowing the steam to flow up into the air. You cooked one of his favorites, one you texted him about and he responded with his excitement. Seems like you’ve been placed on the back burner… Again.

–

It had been a few hours since Jake had left for the bonfire. You had cleaned a little, showered, and now relaxing in the living room with a movie playing in the background. It wasn’t until you were scrolling through instagram when you saw Sam’s partner post a video on her story. You sit at the sight of Josh’s backyard. She was filming a video of everyone gathered around the fire pit. She’s there? But Jake said it was only for work. So why was she there?

It only got worse when you saw Danny’s and Josh’s partners gathered around the fire.

You begin to wonder why he lied to you? And also what bullshit lie he told his brothers when you didn’t come with him?

Locking your phone, you toss it to the other side of the couch before leaning forward on your knees.

Thoughts raced through your head, anger and hurt surged through your veins. You didn’t realize you had been sitting there for as long as you have until you heard the front door open. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom and shut the door.

A knock comes on the door a few minutes later. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m heading to bed, are you coming up?”

“Uh yeah.. Just uh.. Give me a few minutes.”

“Okay..”

You listen to his footsteps as he makes his way towards the stairs and climbs them to the second floor. Coming out of the bathroom, composed and calm, you make your way upstairs to the bedroom. He’s already in the bed by the time you get up there. Light snores fill the silence.

Grabbing your phone again, you open a new thread with Josh.

‘Are you awake?’

Josh: Hey! Yeah, I’m still awake. Too much energy. We missed you tonight at the bonfire! Are you feeling better?

So he told them I was sick?

‘Oh uh, yeah yeah I’m feeling better.. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it..’

I wasn’t allowed to come.

Josh: Oh no! Don’t worry about it! Will I see you this weekend?

This weekend? What’s this weekend?

‘I’m not sure, actually. I made plans with my sister.’

Josh: Oh bummer! I thought Jake told you a couple weeks ago, he said he would! But hey not a big deal! We’ll have to plan for something soon to get together, I miss hanging out with you!

‘Of course! Goodnight Josh.’

Josh: Goodnight!

Putting your phone down, you glance over at Jake. Why is he keeping you from everything? Not including you anymore? What happened? Did you do something that you aren’t aware of? Does he not love you anymore or want to be with you? Oh god.. What if this is his way of trying to break up with you without actually having to do it? Maybe if he keeps freezing you out then you’ll leave?

The anxiety rittles your body and you find yourself not able to sleep.

You had woken up the next morning before Jake so you took the opportunity to ask your sister to meet you for breakfast. Coming home though afterwards, you find Jake in the kitchen and drinking coffee. He glances up at you and lowers the mug to the counter.

“I woke up and you were gone,” He says as you hang your keys on the hook. “Where were you?”

“Went out to breakfast with my sister,” You say. “I brought you this back though.” You were nice enough to grab him his favorite bagel and a muffin, both of which were still warm when you got back to the house.

“I already ate..” He mumbles.

“Oh… Okay..”

He stands from the island stool and cleans out his mug before placing it in the dishwasher. “I’ll be gone this weekend,” He says. “Still hanging out with your sister?”

“Yeah uh, about that. I was hoping maybe I could come with you?”

“Babe, it’s just us guys..” He says as he turns to face you.

“Oh.. Well, the only reason why I asked was because Josh thought I’d be coming too..”

“You talked to Josh?” You nod your head. “When did you talk to Josh?”

“Last night.” You say as you fold your arms over your chest. “Which is interesting, because he also told me that they missed me last night because I was sick.. Care to explain?”

Jake lowers his head and fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “I didn’t know they were bringing their partners,” He says. “If I had known, I would have brought you with me.. So instead of seeming like an asshole for not bringing you along, I told them you were sick..”

“You could have called..” You mumble. “I would’ve come over.. And this weekend? Is it really just the guys?” You ask. “Or do you just not want me to go?”

“Babe..” He sighs.

“Don’t babe me, Jake,” You say. “And don’t lie to me either. What the fuck is going on? I’ve been so confused and hurt for the last few months because it always seemed like I wasn’t invited to things anymore but in reality you just don’t want me there.”

Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you shake your head.

“If this is your way of trying to get rid of me–it’s fucking cruel, Jake.. Just fucking tell me if you don’t want me to be with me anymore. Tell me you don’t love me so I can just leave. Fuck.. I’m tired of being left out of things, I’m tired of sitting at home wondering what the fuck I did to be treated like this.”

A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly wipe away. He hadn’t spoken a word. He just stands there twisting his shirt.

“Fucking say something!” You shout, slamming your hand on the counter top.

He lifts his head, revealing tears in his eyes. Your shoulders drop and you step back from the island.

“It’s not been easy..” He says. “I love you, I really fucking do–but..”

“But what?”

“I think we need some time..”

“Some.. Some time?” You say. “What did I do?”

He violently shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything, I just.. I just need some time to figure out what it is that I want.”

“And I’m not what you want, am I?”

“I’m sorry..”

You straighten up and turn on your heels without another word and calmly make your way up the stairs to the bedroom. Grabbing a bag, you begin to fill it with some of your things. Feeling him in the room, you pause and glance over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to leave..” He says.

You toss a shirt into the bag and zip it up before going into the bathroom and grabbing your toothbrush and essentials. You come back out to find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head buried in his hands.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you pull out your keys and take the house off of the metal ring and hold it out to him. He looks up at you, his eyes growing red and his chin quivering.

“Don’t do that, Jake..” You shove the key into his hand. “Don’t sit there and cry. This is on you.” Turning on your heel, you start for the door before stopping and turning back to face him. “You can change this, you know.. But I am warning you. Once I step out the front door, I'm not coming back.”

When he doesn’t say anything or give you any kind of acknowledgment, you nod your head and turn to leave. Your hand rests on the door handle of the front door, hesitant to even want to leave. But he’s made it clear to you, with little to no words.

Yanking the door open, you step outside and take one last look in hopes that he’d be coming down the stairs after you. But he isn’t. There’s only silence. Pulling the door closed, you make it to your car before the tears finally hit and roll down your cheeks like a waterfall. It wasn’t until you were driving away did you see him appear outside.

He stood on the front porch, his hands at his sides balled into fists. Part of you wanted to turn the car around and go back but the other part of you, the dominant part, kept your foot on the gas pedal moving your car further and further away until he was no longer in your line of sight.

–Two Months Later-

Jake

He drops an empty bottle of beer into the trash can before retrieving another one from the fridge. There wasn’t a day he had ever left the house. Not since the day you left. The day he let you walk away without a fight.

He knew he made a mistake. The moment he heard your car start up, he knew.

Most people go through a midlife crisis when they’re older. Significantly older than he is now. You could’ve worked things out. He could’ve made that decision but he’s the undecisive one. And making a decision so drastic that affects his whole life and his future, he can’t do it. He shuts down, he removes himself from the situation. Or in this case, his relationship.

He hasn’t heard from you, nor did he ever expect to. You don’t answer his phone calls or even respond to texts. It wasn’t until one day that he got a response to one of his text messages but it wasn’t you. It was someone else, explaining to him that he had the wrong number.

Wrong number?

You changed your number?

No one had your new number. Not even Josh.

Josh.

Fuck.

He wasn’t happy with Jake. He lost one of his best friends. They had a heated argument and didn’t speak for a couple weeks but eventually Josh being Josh couldn’t stand being angry anymore and they made up.

Popping the lid off of the bottle, he chugs down half of it before setting it down on the counter and pulling out his phone. He starts to dial your number only to remember that it won’t be you on the other end. He drops it back on the counter and finds himself slowly sinking to the floor where he’s ended up multiple times.

He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until he was shaken awake by Josh. Worry paints his face as he stares at Jake from above him, his hands holding both of his shoulders.

“Oh thank god..” He breathes in relief as he pulls Jake up into a sitting position.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you.” He says. “You missed a band meeting that was scheduled for today.. No one could get a hold of you. And I come here only to find you passed out.”

“I fell asleep..”

Josh waves the beer bottle in front of Jake’s face. “Fell asleep.. My ass. Come on.. Get up.” He says as he pulls Jake up to his feet. He dumps the beer into the sink before directing Jake to the stairs and pulling him to his room. He sits him down on the bed and moves to his closet to get him fresh clothes.

“Why are you changing me?” Jake says as Josh tosses a shirt and a clean pair of jeans at him.

“Because..”

“Because why?” Jake grumbles.

Josh takes a deep breath. “I ran into her today…” Josh exhales.

Jake straightens up, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at his brother. “You saw her?”

Josh nods his head. “She mentioned needing to come back here—to get her things..”

“Why did she wait so long?”

“I don’t know, Jake..” Josh sighs. “Maybe she never came back after you let her leave like that..”

Jake huffs and shakes his head. “I thought we moved on from that..”

Josh runs a hand through his hair. “We did… I’m sorry…” He drops his hands to his sides. “But you need to get dressed, make yourself look not so…you know..” He starts to go for the bedroom door before stopping and turning around. “And trim your facial hair. You look like you’ve been wandering the desert.”

—

Walking up the driveway towards the front door, your heart pounds in your chest. It’s been two months since you’ve left here–refusing to come back to get your things, unable to see him. You clench your fists at your sides to control their shaking as you lift your hand to knock on the door.

It took a few minutes before the door was being pulled open. Standing there dressed neatly with sunglasses resting over his eyes is Jake. You notice his facial hair has grown out more than it was before, connecting completely around his mouth and covering his chin.

“Hi..” You breathe out, giving him a slight nod of your head.

He returns the nod and steps aside to let you inside. “I uh, boxed up everything that I could find.” He says, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. “Although you’re welcome to look around to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Uh.. Thank you.” You say as you pick up a box. “I guess I’ll just take this out to the car.”

He offers to help you, carrying each box out to your car. When the last box is brought out, you reach up to close the trunk door. He stands idly by in the driveway with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. He rocks gently back and forth.

“Umm… Well, if you happen to find my sweater–let me know..” You say, giving him a light giggle. “You know that it’s my favorite.”

A smile tugs at his lips and he nods his head. “I know it is.. But if you have time, you can go look.”

“It’s late,” You say, shaking your head. “I’m already taking up too much of your time.”

Jake shakes his head. “It’s okay, really..” He says. “It won’t take too long.”

“Oh uh.. If you’re sure..” You stammer.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He says with a slight nod of his head.

He leads you back into the house and upstairs to the bedroom. You pause in the doorway as he keeps walking towards the laundry basket in the corner of the room. You realize you hadn’t moved or acknowledged him walking back over to you until you hear him speaking.

“It’s kind of wrinkled,” He awkwardly chuckles. “Sorry about that..”

You lift your head to look up at him as you slowly take the sweater from his hand. You couldn’t stop yourself before you’re bringing your lips to his and kissing him. You can feel his surprise as his body tenses but eventually he relaxes and his arms find solace wrapping around your body and pulling you closer.

You wanted this. Just one last time. Even though you know that you’ll be breaking his heart in the end, you need him just this once. Closure. A weird way to find closure after breaking up.

You feel his hands trail down your waist and cup your thighs before he lifts you up and rests you on his waist. He carries you to the bed, your kissing not once broken even as he lays you down on the bed. You do eventually pull away to catch your breath.

You had removed his sunglasses, revealing his worn and tired eyes. You softly run your hand down the side of his face. He nuzzles into the palm of your hand as his eyes close shut.

You know that he knows that you won’t be staying after this. That you will still be leaving. But for right now, he has you and and for right now he can show how much he loves you and how much he regrets the decisions he’s made.

He presses his hips into yours, allowing you to know just how much he wants you.

Barely any words are spoken as the two of you become naked in front of each other. His eyes wander all over your body. Mesmerized. Stunned. Amazed. You name it, he was that and more.

Entangling himself with your body, he pushes himself inside of you. He gives languid strokes as he pushes his hips into you and buries his face into the crook of your neck and kisses your jaw. His hand travels down your waist and grips your hip as he starts to pound into you. Your moans fill his ears as he pushes you closer to the edge.

You grip him tightly, nails digging to his back as he fills you and stretches you with every thrust. Your vision begins to blur as tears fill your eyes. All of your emotions hitting you all at once. Your heart breaks as you feel him pouring out his love. You hug tighter as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye and slips down the side of your face.

But all of that is overridden by our orgasm as it rips through your body. You can hear him speaking to you as he fucks you through it. Praising you, loving you. Seconds later he’s spilling inside of you and filling you up.

Coming down from your highs, his body relaxes on top of you and he rests his head on your shoulder. Neither of you makes an effort to move but eventually he pulls out of you and lays on his back beside you.

You start to make a move to leave but he grabs hold of your elbow. You look over your shoulder and his eyes alone are begging you to stay. You know you shouldn’t. You know you should leave, but that small part of you is begging for one night. You give a light nod of your head and crawl back into the bed. He holds you close as you curl into his front side. His fingers graze your spin lazily. Soon the both of you are falling asleep in each other’s arms.

��

Waking up the next morning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he feels the cold bed beside him as he rolls over onto his stomach. Sitting up in the bed he finds you gone. Everything is gone except for your sweater that still lies on the end of the bed. He climbs from the bed and pulls on a pair of sweats and retrieves your sweater before leaving the room.

His worst nightmare comes true as he finds the house completely void of you. Pulling the front door open, he looks outside to the driveway but your car is gone. It’s as if you were never there, but you had been. He can still feel your touch lingering on his skin and with each memory that comes to his mind, his heart breaks a little more.

Slowly closing the door, he holds your sweater to his chest as he leans against the door. You’re gone. For good. He knows now that there is no coming back to once was or ever will be. He made the mistake of letting you go but now he has to live with it. Forever letting the one get away.

__________________________________________________

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#jake kiszka #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka x reader #gvf #jake kiszka fanfiction

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callsignspark · 1 year ago

Note

Bradley and Mary

straddling your partner's thighs

look at what you've done, anon. I've gone and written something ridiculously long.

send me a physical intimacy prompt for any of my Dagger, Sword & Shield couples!

your lap is my safe place - part i

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, uterine cancer (discussions of a terminal illness and treatment), death due to cancer (established universe death), grief over losing a parent, funerals, panic attacks, vomiting, you don’t need to read Mar[r]y Me to read and understand this but you should anyway

word count: 7.1k

part ii - coming soon

note: originally, this was supposed to be a short, simple prompt answer - one part sad and one part smutty - but it's gotten extremely out of hand due to my inability to be brief. so this is part one (the sad part), and the smutty sequel will be coming (ha) sometime early next week. and when I say this part is sad, I mean sad. some of this is very much based on my experience with loved ones who have had cancer and/or were terminally ill. it was very therapeutic to write, even if I did cry a whole lot.

Tuesday, September 3, 2002 | 06:35 A.M.

Bradley wakes up to his alarm clock blaring in his ear, feeling like he’s going to throw up, which is weird for him. Mav says that he’s never met anyone with a stronger stomach. Eighteen-year-olds have stomachs of steel, his mom jokes when she’s having a good day.

He stumbles down the hall and hangs his head over the toilet. Nothing comes up. The nausea goes away in a few minutes, but his gut still feels twisted. He brushes his teeth and decides the likely culprit is the new recipe Mav attempted for dinner last night. He choked down a few bites of the horrible fish tacos before his uncle called it a failure and ordered pizza.

Back in his room, it doesn’t take him long to finish getting ready, pulling on his new first-day-of-school outfit and shaping his mustache. He doesn’t care what Slider says; it’s looking good, much thicker than when he started growing it in April.

“It’s my first day of senior year, my last first day of school. Until the academy, anyway. But with the summer training, the first day of classes probably won’t even feel like a first day.”

His father’s official Lieutenant-JG portrait stares back at him. Unanswering as he fixes his hair.

“Mom is getting worse… She’s getting weaker; I don’t think we have very long before she has to go into hospice. I really want her to get better - I wished for it - but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

He swallows hard and fights back tears, remembering his birthday just a few months ago. Everything hadn’t seemed quite as bad then as it is now.

“I hope she can make it to Christmas. I almost have enough money saved up to buy her that pair of earrings that look like the ones Princess Diana had at her wedding. They’re not real pearls like hers, obviously, but the lady at the jewelry counter told me they’re replicas, so I think she’ll like them anyway.”

Brown eyes identical to his own stare back at him. Hints of the mischievous, prank-loving man visible in the polite smile captured. The old photo is carefully tucked into the edge of his mirror; it was his mom’s first, but she gave it to him when he was eight. She had caught him staring at it every day for a week, quietly talking to it about his day.

“Wish me luck, Goose. It’s gonna be a big year.”

Downstairs, he’s greeted with the second weird thing of the day. First, his stomach, and now his mom is flipping pancakes. She’s hardly had the strength to use the bathroom by herself in the last six months, but this morning, she’s standing at the stove, singing along to the radio, and making his favorite breakfast.

She’s always said that bad things happen in threes, but strange things happen in pairs.

He thinks she might be right, but if she feels good, he’s not complaining. She never feels good anymore.

“There he is! Oh, Mav! Look at my baby boy, all grown up and ready for his last year of high school!”

“Ma…” He groans, and without prompting, he bends down to let her kiss and pinch his cheeks like he always does.

He’s not sure how many good days she has left, so he tries his best to behave and make her life easier.

He doesn't complain when she asks him to take the garbage out after he already did; her memory hasn’t been as good since she got sick. He keeps the anger inside when everyone forgets his baseball games because she had chemo; it’s more important for Mav and Ice to take care of her than to watch him throw a ball around. He even offered up his college fund to help pay for another round of treatment. He was denied before he could even finish the suggestion, but he just wants her to get better more than anything in the world.

Needs her to get better.

She sets a stack of pancakes in front of him, and again, he has the urge to cry when she kisses the top of his head. Her perfume takes over his senses, and if he closes his eyes, it’s almost like he’s little again.

A massive stack of fluffy, perfectly round pancakes, slathered in butter and syrup, filled with his mom’s love.

Mav sitting across the table from him, drinking the worst black coffee to exist on the planet.

His mom humming off-key at the stove, her beautiful, golden hair swishing as she gets into a song.

But then he opens his eyes, and he’s not little anymore.

The pancakes are still covered with butter and enough syrup to give him a cavity, but they’re not the same. They’re flat and mishappen; her arms aren’t very strong anymore, so Mav must’ve had to help her.

Mav still sits across from him, terrible black coffee in his mug, but now he looks old. Too old for someone in his thirties. They’ve been lucky he’s been able to be here this past year. After Mom got sick, Ice and Viper pulled some strings to get him assigned to a shore-duty desk job. Bradley knows he hates it. Can see it in the way he watches every plane that passes overhead - civilian, military, it doesn’t matter - his fingers twitching to be the one controlling the powerful engines. But he never complains, is steady and strong, taking Mom to appointments and Bradley to school.

His mom is humming at the stove for the first time in a long time, somehow more in tune than she’s ever been. He wants to make a joke about how the treatments must have fixed her tone-deafness, but it would just make everyone sad. A reminder that it’s the only thing her treatment has fixed.

It’s taken everything else away.

Her skin, once bright and youthful, is now dull and gray-toned. Her energy has been zapped; she doesn’t even have it in her to make it through their Sunday movie nights. Her body is frail. She was always slim, but now she borders on gaunt, her appetite nonexistent most of the time. Her hair was the first thing to go, a rotation of brightly colored scarfs and hats replacing the blonde strands that used to reach her shoulders. He looks at today’s choice. A bright red scarf that matches the white sundress and red cardigan she’s pulled on.

She looks pretty.

“You look pretty, mom.”

It grabs the attention of both adults, the two of them staring long enough that he squirms in his chair.

“Thank you, baby.” Her pleased smile tells him it was the right thing to say. “You don’t want your pancakes?”

“I do. They look great, but my stomach kinda hurt when I got up, so I don’t want to eat right now. I’m sorry. If you put them in the fridge, I can eat them for dinner.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! It’s a special day; we’re going to have something special for dinner! Something that Mav won’t be making.” The teasing smile she sends to the table makes the knot in his stomach unwind some. It makes him feel good enough to take a small bite.

The shape is wrong, and they’re not fluffy enough, but the taste is the same. The flavor melts over his tongue. The pressure in his chest, the one that showed up around the same time as his mom’s cancer diagnosis, lightens a little bit.

I should fake sick and stay home.

The thought comes out of left field, but he’s immediately on board. She hasn’t had a good day in forever, and he doesn’t want to miss it. Who knows when the next one will come. If there will even be another good day. He wants to spend time with his mom while she knows what’s happening.

“My stomach hurts; I don’t think I can go to school.” He groans and grabs his stomach, trying to look as pathetic as possible to sell his story.

He’s forgotten how sharp his mom is, how well she knows him. “Nice try, honey. You were fine two seconds ago, and you’re not missing your first day of senior year. Now, c’mon! It’s photo time!”

Carole is marching towards the front door before he can argue, so he tries to sway Mav in his favor. But the dark-haired man just shakes his head and avoids eye contact, grabbing the camera off the counter. Bradley stands in the middle of the kitchen, the knot retwisting itself.

He suddenly realizes that his upset stomach has nothing to do with yesterday’s tilapia trying to get its revenge and everything to do with what he overheard in the waiting room during his mom’s last checkup.

“I know, I heard. Isn’t it terrible? He'd been sick for a while, but it seemed like he was getting better. He even took his kids on a bike ride, and then - BAM! - he was gone the next day!”

“Oh, that happens a lot with people who are sick for a long time. Toward the end, they get this sudden burst of energy. It’s like God’s way of giving a happy memory to them and their loved ones. Letting them have one last good day before they go.”

He’s actually going to throw up this time.

Bradley drags his feet all the way to the front door, delaying his departure as much as possible. He doesn’t want to leave, but he knows he’s not going to win any fight against her right now - he’s going to school, come hell or high water. And he doesn’t want to fight with his mom; instead, he chooses to commit the moment to memory.

The gentle touch of her hands as she fusses with his hair, making sure it’s just right before any photos.

The brightness of her smile, how it’s the one thing that’s never dimmed despite everything she’s gone through.

The teasing barbs she exchanges with Mav, the man who has been family to her for longer than Bradley has been alive.

He looks at Mav, the man who has done his best to help raise him. Tried so hard to be a fatherly figure in place of the man who was lost too soon. Mav looks tired, Bradley wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as him.

She’s going. She’s going, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Just like every year since kindergarten, they squish together on the porch, his mom wrapping her arm around his waist. He thinks about how she used to have to squat down so their heads were together. Now, she’d have to go on her tiptoes, and he’d have to crouch down for that to happen.

He knows his smile looks fake; he has to force himself because this might be the last photo he gets with his mom, and that makes him sad beyond words. Carole quickly fixes that, tickling his side on that one spot that always gets him. He giggles and tries to squirm away, his smile turning happy and real as she laughs at him.

“You’re just like your father; he was ticklish in the exact same spot.”

Even the talk of Goose doesn’t bring them down like it usually does. Today, it lifts everyone’s spirit to realize how much he’s like the father he didn’t get to know.

After Mav has taken an ungodly number of photos, Bradley asks for the camera and stands next to his uncle. He snaps photo after photo of his mom, hoping that if he takes enough, he won’t ever be able to forget this moment. Then he shuffles Mav on the porch and takes photos of the pseudo-siblings. He rearranges them one last time, setting the camera on the porch railing and hitting the timer.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that photo of the three of them standing in the yard with the Bronco just visible in the background will be the last photo taken of his mother. As an adult, it will be tied for first place with five others as his favorite photo of all time.

After the last flash, Carole pulls him close. “I am so proud of you, Bradley. Your dad would be so proud of you. You’re such a good boy. I love you so much.”

He hugs her tighter than he should; he can’t help it. The little gasp she lets out at the intensity of his hug makes him feel a bit guilty, but he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t want to let her go.

“I know, honey. I know. It’s okay.” She tries to soothe her baby, who isn’t a baby anymore. He’s a full-grown man who is so much smarter and wiser than any 18-year-old should ever be. He’s been through so much more than any kid should ever have to go through. She feels bad about how quickly he’s had to grow up. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

No, it’s not going to be okay. But he holds back his tears because he doesn’t want her to cry when she’s having a good day. He reluctantly lets go and slips on his sunglasses - aviators, just like Goose - before heading for his car, knowing that if he doesn’t go now, he’ll never be able to make himself leave.

With his stomach in even more knots than he thought possible, Bradley heads off to school, waving as he pulls out of the driveway. Trying to burn the image of his mom waving, one hand on her hip as Mav nudges her and makes her laugh.

From the moment he parks the Bronco in the seniors-only lot, the entire school day feels like torture. He can’t even enjoy the beginning of his senior year, something he had been waiting for.

Senior year means graduation. Graduation means going to college. College means packing his stuff for Annapolis. Annapolis means he can finally start working on his dream.

He’ll learn how to be an aviator while roaming the same halls as Goose while he learns the ins and outs of aeronautical engineering. He might even be lucky enough to get placed in the same dorm room. Being an aviator means he’ll be just like his father. And Mav. And Ice. And Slider. And all of his other uncles from the class of '86. But he can’t bring himself to be excited like usual.

Instead, he’s on edge the entire day. Waiting to get called to the nurse’s office. They all had agreed as a family - Bradley, Carole, Mav, and Ice - that if she passed when he was at school, they would have the front office call him down to the nurse’s office. Ice would pick him up, Mav likely busy dealing with the doctors and the funeral home and everything.

He can barely eat the lunch his mom packed. A peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, cut into triangles like when he was little. Chips, cucumber slices, and a chocolate chip cookie round out the meal. He tosses most of the food but is careful to keep the little note she had put in the brown paper bag.

I love you, Bradley. You’re going to do great things.

He presses it between the pages of his calculus textbook before he goes to gym, making sure he doesn’t bend the pink sticky note, preserving her swirly handwriting as best he can.

Finally, the bell signaling the end of the eighth period rings. Relief washes through his body. There’s been no call from the nurse, and his school day is over. He hastily packs his bookbag and practically skips towards the parking lot, waving at some friends still in class. He’s one got free period during ninth period, and as a senior, he gets to leave early if he has no class.

He’s planning his route home - he wants to stop at the corner store to grab a treat for his mom - when he skids to a stop where the concrete sidewalk meets asphalt.

Ice is leaning against the bumper of the Bronco.

“Happy birthday, Bradley!” His mom yells before blowing a kazoo.

He couldn’t be happier. It’s his birthday, his mom is having a good day, and he just got the keys to the Bronco. It’s officially his, just like he always dreamed it would be.

“Your dad’s dream was for you two to fix it up together and give it to you on your eighteenth birthday,” Mav explained. “I know I can’t replace him, but we had a good time working on it, right?”

Bradley nods and hugs his uncle. Mav will never be his actual dad, but he’s the closest thing he has to one. He helped raise him. He had sacrificed so many weekends to spend time with him, showing him how to fix the Bronco or throw a football with a perfect spiral. He’d even taken him on motorcycle rides, but they agreed not to tell Mom about that.

“Okay, knock it off, you saps. It’s time to blow out your candles, Baby Goose!” Slider enters the dining room, looking ridiculous with a crooked party hat on his head. He’s concentrating hard to balance a cake that’s much too big for the six people in attendance at his birthday dinner.

It’s set in front of Bradley, and he laughs when he sees the cake is covered in little plane toys. It looks like a cake made for a little kid, and he loves it. Aunt Sarah lights his candles and starts singing. He sits there for 30 seconds, watching his family sing off-key and thinking about how he loves his family so much his heart hurts.

“Okay, baby! Close your eyes and make a wish!” Carole smooths a hand over his hair.

He smiles up at her. “Only if you help me, ma.”

She bends down, doing a quick countdown before they close their eyes and blow out the candles together. For the first time in years, Bradley actually makes a wish.

Please don’t let my mom die. I need her.

Ice is talking to Slider, who’s parked in his white Jeep, and even from this distance, he can tell they’ve been crying.

Slider has obviously given Ice a ride to school, and now they’re waiting for him. If Ice doesn’t have his truck, that means he’s going to be driving Bradley. And that can only mean one thing.

She’s gone. My wish didn’t come true.

His backpack hits the ground at the same time as his knees, and he throws up. It’s not a lot; he’s barely eaten today, and by the time his uncles reach him - their feet pounding on the pavement - he’s just sobbing and dry heaving into the grass.

“Breathe, Bradley. You gotta breathe, buddy.” He can’t tell which one is talking; blood is rushing in his ears, and he just keeps crying.

“Bradley.” It’s Ice, holding his face up. “Listen to me. Your mom is not dead. Do you hear me? She’s not gone. But she had to be taken to the hospital; we’re still waiting for the test results. We’re gonna go there right now, but you need to breathe first, okay? You gotta breathe.”

He does his best to stop crying and take in air. His body literally shudders on the first breath, his lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen. After a few breaths, a water bottle is shoved in front of his face. He doesn’t even know where it came from, but he drinks, his throat raw.

Slider pops a mint into his mouth before helping him stand. “It’ll help your throat and your stomach.”

He races to the car, throwing the keys to Ice, who almost drops them. Both adults speed out of the parking lot, heading directly for the hospital.

Halfway there Ice has a chilling realization. The car is silent. If he’s learned anything in the last twenty-odd years, it’s that a car ride involving a Bradshaw is never silent. There’s always talking and laughing. Usually, you can count on singing and bad seat dancing, but today, it’s silent. There’s not even the sound of crying. And when he looks over at Bradley, he’s startled to find him catatonically staring out the windshield, his face bone dry. He looks like a statue, and it freaks Ice out how quickly he’s shut down. He hasn’t attended Sunday service in a long time, doesn’t even know if he believes in a higher power, but at that moment, he sends off prayers to every deity he can name, hoping that one of them can pull off a miracle for the boy who’s already dealt with so much.

It’s even worse at the hospital, Slider nabbing the spot next to them seconds after Ice shifts into park. The three of them hurry towards the ICU, where a nurse lets them all in after she hears who they’re visiting. Technically, only Bradley and Pete meet the requirements to be allowed in, but the entire ward is aware of the situation and are prepared to let as many people visit as needed.

Bradley freezes halfway to Carole’s room, Slider almost running him over. A priest is walking out of her room. He shakes hands with Mav and somberly nods at the frozen trio when he passes.

Mav watches as his best friends gently nudge his godson forward. His heart feels like it’s splitting in two as tears start streaming down Bradley’s face. A face that looks so old and so young at the same time. Maverick feels like he’s watching his 18-year-old nephew transform into the little boy who just lost his dad. His lower lip trembles just like it used to when he would fall and scrap his knee. Except this time, there’s nothing Mav can do to make it better. There’s no antibacterial spray, no Spiderman band-aid, no over-dramatic kiss with magical healing powers. This time, there’s only a young man who’s now taller than him. He stands in the doorway with red eyes and a mustache that makes him look so much like Goose.

“What happened?” Bradley croaks, afraid to enter the room. He hates the way his mom looks when she’s hooked up to all those machines. The beeping hurts his ears. “Why was the priest in here?”

“I don’t know, kid. We were about to eat lunch, and she collapsed. The doctors don’t know either; the test results didn’t show anything that’s telling them what’s going on. Everything is just suddenly worse.” Mav gets choked up; he can hardly continue. “They uh- they said this is probably it. That we should say our goodbyes. That’s why I had the priest come in. When we talked about her final wishes a while ago, she made me promise she would get her last rites.”

Bradley tackles him in a hug before he finishes talking. They cry together, mourning the loss that hasn’t happened yet.

The four of them have been sitting in silence for hours, listening to the beep of the heart monitor, when Bradley speaks up from his post beside his mom. “What else does she want? I know she wants to be buried next to Goose, but what else? She didn’t tell me.”

“She wants yellow carnations in her arrangements. Her wedding band stays with her, just like Goose, but her engagement ring goes to you. She wants to be wearing that blue dress she wore when she first met your dad.”

“That’s it?”

“There are a few more legal things, like with the house and the cars, but that’s laid out in her will. She made me promise I’ll take care of you, which I was always going to do no matter what.”

And she made me promise I’ll never let you fly.

Mav doesn’t add that final promise to the list; it’s not the right time for that conversation. He’s not sure it’ll ever be the right time.

Carole can feel herself getting weaker, but today is a good day; she feels good. Strong.

“Peter Howard Mitchell! Listen to me, you stupid, stubborn, obnoxious jackass! We don’t have a lot of time before Bradley gets back, and we need to talk about this!”

Bradley had felt guilty about leaving to go to the movies with Tessa Richardson, but Carole had insisted - he’d had a crush on that girl for years. It was about time he had his first kiss. And she was 95% certain it was going to happen today. Her motherly instincts were tingling.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Carole! I’m sick of every conversation we have being about you dying!”

“You think I like talking about it? Knowing that I’m leaving behind my little boy?” She gets in his face, yelling with every ounce of strength she can summon. “You think I like knowing that my body is giving up? That I’m dying? I can feel it happening, Pete! I can feel myself drifting away! And nothing the doctors are doing is helping! I know that it’s scaring Bradley, scaring you, but it’s scaring me most of all!”

Maverick catches her, and they sink to the ground; she sobs in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry; I’m so sorry, Carole. What do you need me to do?”

“Bradley can’t fly.” She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “He can’t fly for the Navy, Pete. I know he wants to, but you can’t let him.”

“But Carole, it’s his dream to-”

“To die just like his father?” Her words shock him. “I love Nick more than anything, Pete, you know that. But do you know what I would do to have him here with us today? Do you realize I’ve lived three times as long without my husband than I did with him? It’s been fifteen years - almost sixteen. I only knew Nick for five, and we were only married for three before he was gone. I would do anything to have Bradley know his father.”

“Care…”

“You’ve been incredible, Mav. You’ve done your best to be a father to him; he loves you so much. I love you so much; you’re my best friend. But I've missed my husband every day for the last fifteen years. He was the love of my life, and I miss him so much my heart hurts. I’m not going to be here, but I can’t stand the thought of the same thing happening to Bradley. I won’t let that happen to my baby. So, you have to promise me, Pete. Promise me you won’t let him fly.”

They sit on the floor in silence, staring at each other. The internal debate roars inside Maverick, hurting his chest. He loves the Bradshaws more than anything. He would do anything for them. He still feels guilty about his best friend’s death, knows it was his fault, even if the investigation said he was innocent. The guilt of Goose being gone eats away at him, little by little each day.

Carole is right.

He can’t - he won’t - lose Bradley the same way.

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep him out of the air. But Carole, he’s almost an adult. Soon, there won’t be much I can do to control him. I can’t stop him from applying to the Academy or joining the Navy.”

“Yes, you can. Get Ice to pull some strings, indebt yourself to Viper. Do whatever you have to do. Do everything you can to protect him, Pete.” Her voice is cold and emotionless, knowing it will destroy her son, but at least he’ll be alive.

It was the one and only time they had talked about it, but every time Bradley excitedly talked about his future, Carole would look at him with this face that made Mav feel awful. It’s her request, but he was going to be the reason Bradley’s dreams were crushed.

Mav leans over in his chair, guilt and hopelessness consuming his body. The knowledge that his godson was about to be more like him in all the ways he never wanted.

Orphaned. Mother dying, with a broken heart, years after his father was killed while flying.

Denied entrance to the Naval Academy due to something beyond his control.

“She doesn’t want anything else?”

“No.”

It’s the last word spoken. A lie.

Slider and Ice spend the night just outside the door in some extra chairs an orderly had been kind enough to scrounge up. Mav shifts between standing at Carole’s side to hold her hand and sitting ramrod straight at the foot of her bed.

Bradley stays by his mom’s side the entire night, clutching her left hand. He plays with her wedding band, twisting it around her finger like he used to when he was little. He thinks about how different everything is going to be. He’s going to be alone a lot more now. He’s legally an adult, so when Mav gets deployed or transferred, there won’t be a need to scramble to make sure he’s taken care of. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with the house or if it’s even his to worry about. Mav, Ice, and his mom had taken care of the legal stuff without him. He wonders if Slider would loan him some money so he can get those earrings. She won’t be able to appreciate them, but he still wants her to have them. It’s the last thing he’ll be able to do for her. They’ll go nice with her blue dress, he thinks. He sits there and thinks. He’s there the whole time.

He’s there, wide awake, when Carole takes her last breath at 3:14 AM on September 4th. He’s there when the doctor comes in to declare her dead; he shakes Bradley’s hand, giving him the first of the thousand condolences that will follow. He’s there when the nurse comes in to turn off the monitors and unhook the IVs; she gently asks if he wants to leave while she cleans his mom up, but he refuses. He doesn’t have a lot of time left before he’ll never see her again; he can’t waste any time. He’s there for another hour, trying to say his goodbyes through sobs. He’s there until his uncles drag him out, promising him that he’ll see her again before the funeral. He’s still there, mentally, when he goes to sleep at Uncle Tom’s house. He and Pete are sleeping over, neither of them ready to face the house.

He’s there three days later, shyly asking the funeral director if it would be too much trouble to change his mom’s earrings. When he asked Uncle Ron about the money, he put them both in the car, drove to the mall, and paid for the earrings without question. The two of them hugged for a long time before they went home. He’s there at the viewing, next to his mother’s casket for hours, numbingly accepting condolences and hugs from hundreds of people. The one bright spot is being reminded how many people loved his mom. How wonderful she was to everyone she met.

He’s there at the graveside service, the first to place a rose on the polished wood. He stays there once it ends, refusing to leave, watching as the casket is lowered and the hole is filled with dirt. He’s there to place a bouquet of yellow carnations, her favorite, on top of the fresh earth. He pats the dual gravestone, one half still blank, before he lets Mav pull him to the car. He looks back one last time, and as the sunshine dries his tears, he swears he can hear his parents' laughter in the wind.

As an adult, now with two dead parents and one estranged, he’s there every year that he’s not deployed. He clears away any weeds and leaves before placing a bouquet of yellow carnations on the gravestone that now bears two names. Sometimes, there’s a single red rose already there when he arrives. Those are the years he knows Mav beat him to saying hello. He’s there for hours at a time, sitting with his parents and eating a bag of trail mix with extra M&Ms added - Goose’s favorite.

The first year that he and Mary are together, he’s there alone. He trusts her implicitly, and she knows the whole story. He told her what happened with Mav and everything that followed; it was a conversation they had early on. But this is something too raw, too personal, to share so soon in a relationship. He’s spent so many years doing this by himself that he’s not sure how he would handle having another person with him. Even if it was someone he loves so much.

Mary understands.

“Of course, you understand, you’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect, Bradley. I just care about your feelings.”

“You’re perfect for me.” He kisses her before she can protest. “Thank you for caring about me.”

The day of, she kisses him softly as he leaves, pushing a sandwich bag of trail mix into his hand. Her only ask is to tell her when he gets home safe if he needs space, letting him know that her house is always open if he doesn’t want to spend the night alone.

He spends that first year catching them up. Now that he’s stationed in San Diego, it’s easier to visit more often, but several things have happened since his last stop. Usually, he talks for a bit and then sits in silence, choosing to reminisce on the happy memories. This time, he spends most of the time talking. Telling his parents about Mav, the shenanigans of the Dagger Squad, about Mary. He tells them all about Mary. How much he loves her, how he hasn’t said it yet because it’s only officially been two months, how he’s pretty sure she can tell anyway. He goes on and on about her eyes, her kindness, her intelligence.

“I love her so much; I’m going to marry her.” He blurts it out, a small gasp following his declaration to the etched granite stone. It’s not the first time he’s had the thought, but it’s the first time he’s said it out loud. And now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Mary in a white dress with a veil sitting on her pretty brown hair, a gold band on her ring finger. The two of them committing themselves to each other in front of all their loved ones. Twirling her around the dance floor to their song, dipping her at the end to kiss her and make her blush. Everything that would follow. A house. A dog. A few kids. Diapers and dance recitals to gray hair and wrinkles.

“Holy shit… I’m going to marry her.” The breeze ruffles his hair, and he knows it’s his parents. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make sure we’re married before I get her pregnant, unlike you two.”

He decides to stay the night at Mary’s, feeling better than he ever has on this day. He goes to find her the moment he enters the house, using the key she recently gave him. She’s on her office floor, organizing her bookshelf, when he presses himself against her, devouring her in a kiss. Bradley’s added weight throws her off balance, and the two of them topple over, sprawled in the paperbacks.

When he finally pulls back, he’s pleased to see that she’s flushed and her chest is heaving.

“I’m not complaining, but what was that?”

“I’ve never had someone to come home to after visiting them; I’ve always done it alone.” He talks into her neck, enjoying the way her fingers tighten in his hair when his lips brush her skin. “I’m just really thankful I have you.”

“Oh, Bradley…” Mary doesn’t know what to say. She loves this man so much, and she knows it’s too soon to say that, so she shows him. The night ends with a shower and papercuts in places where papercuts should never happen.

The day sneaks up on him the second year they’re together. They’ve been busy; between work, helping Jake with his surprise, and preparing to move in together, August went by in a blink. It leaves him with no time to mentally prepare.

Bradley jolts awake, sweat covering his temples and his heart thumping. It’s the worst nightmare he’s had in months. It was a twisted mess of awful moments. Some real, some imagined. Reliving his mother’s death but worse, almost dying on the uranium mission, losing Mary to cancer, same as his mom. He woke up just as a doctor was telling him she was gone and he wasn’t allowed to see her.

“No, sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there. Her husband doesn’t want anyone else back there. You’ll have to wait for the funeral… if you’re even allowed in, asshole.”

He whips the covers off and trips his way to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before his dinner makes a return trip. The commotion wakes Mary, and she quickly makes her way to him, finding him laying on the floor, his shirt whipped into the tub.

His chest is so tight it hurts. He can’t believe he’s having a panic attack. He hasn’t had a full-on panic attack in years. There’s been anxiety, moments where he can’t easily catch his breath and his heart beating faster than it should, but nothing like this. He feels like he’s drenched in sweat, his heart is pounding, and he can’t breathe.

“Bradley? Look at me, sweetie.”

Mary.

“Can you look at me, Bradley?” He can hardly see through the tears. “I know it’s hard because you’re crying so hard, but look at me.”

It takes all his strength to turn his head, but he does it because he knows she’s worried.

“There you are. Okay, baby, I need you to breathe with me.”

He’s not exactly sure how she does it, but she helps him calm down. His body listens to her instructions before his brain realizes.

It takes a while, but he can breathe normally again. She helps him sit up, propping himself against the tub and letting his head fall back. He hears the sink run before there’s a soft touch on his shoulder.

“Gonna touch you, that okay?” He nods, appreciative of how considerate she is, always thinking of him.

Mary gently wipes his face, cleaning it of tears and sweat before brushing the washcloth over his arms and chest. It helps ground him, feeling more inside his body than before.

“What time is it?” Bradley rasps as she rinses the cloth.

“Late. Or early, depending on how you want to think about it.” She peeks out of the door, checking the time. Her face is somber when she comes back to him. “It’s 3:20, honey.”

“Twenty years… she’s been gone for twenty years.” He reaches for her, and she easily complies, straddling his thighs when he tugs her hand.

They sit in silence, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.

“I had a nightmare.” He starts, answering her silent question. “It was her death and the uranium mission back-to-back, losing her and then him.”

She hums, encouraging him to continue. She doesn’t know the details of that mission - her clearance level is high but not that high - but she knows that he and Mav barely made it back. Both of them brushing hands with death multiple times.

They have nightmares. Less frequently now that they’re a few years down the road, but they still happen. Mav dreams that he doesn’t save them, that one of the bogeys gets them before Hangman reaches them. Bradley’s feature him missing the helicopter, having to watch Mav bleed out.

“Then it was you. You were sick. It was the same thing as Mom, uterine cancer. And I couldn’t even say goodbye. You married someone else, and I wasn’t allowed in.”

She takes a sharp breath. That’s new.

“I don’t want to lose you, Mary. I love you so much, I think it would kill me.”

“Oh, honey.” She cradles his face, forcing him to look at her. “You listen to me, Bradley Bradshaw. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you more than anything. In two weeks, we’re going to be living together. When the time is right, we’re going to get married and have a family.”

She can't help but press a quick kiss to his mouth. “And I’m healthy. There’s no history of uterine or breast cancer in my family, and I just had my annual appointment last week. All the tests came back negative for bad things. Nothing is wrong. I'm totally healthy, okay? I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“You’re right, I can’t. We can’t control everything, and sometimes bad things happen. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure I don’t ever leave you.”

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and scratchy. “I know it’s hard with what I do, but I promise you’re my number one thought when I’m in the air; coming home safe to you is my top priority.”

“Now, I’m gonna cry, Bradley.” They both let out watery laughs. “You’re such a sweet man.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s go back to bed; I need my beauty sleep before I meet your parents.” She pulls him up, and they fall asleep quickly, tucked together as the early morning light peeks through the curtains.

When they get to the cemetery the next afternoon, a red rose sits on the headstone. One step in front of him, Mary picks it up and brushes some leaves off the base. He watches as she places the flower back in its spot, plucking a few dandelions before she stands.

“There,” she says, brushing dirt off her hands, “that’s better.”

The wind picks up, twisting her long hair around, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Mom, I know. She’s very pretty. I’m working on proposing. We gotta do some stuff first, but it’s coming.” He mutters under his breath.

“What was that, honey?”

“Nothing, baby doll. Want to help me put the blanket down?” His hat blows off, and he scowls at the tree that’s nearby, smiling when he hears her muffled giggle.

Miss you, dad.

part six will be coming next week! have a great weekend everyone!

fic tag | Mar[r]y Me masterlist | credit for dividers here

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #ask game #asks answered #anon <3 #elle writes #mar[r]y me fic

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twostepstyless · 2 years ago

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Stuffing the Turkey

Fic Advent Calendar Day 15

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Harry and Y/N host an annual friendsmas but there's one guest missing this year and Y/N is already stressing about hosting Christmas Day for their families this year.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any variety is always encouraged and forever appreciated - G <3

Word Count: 2.3k

SFW

———

The saying goes, ‘if you can’t take the heat then get out of the kitchen,’ but that can be hard to do when you’re supposed to be in the kitchen preparing a meal for what was supposed to be eleven people, but Harry just dropped the bomb that it was actually going to be twelve people. He decided to tell her that this morning, not last week when he found about the additional person, who was apparently his mate Johnny’s new girlfriend. What is it with men and not seeing any rush in passing on information? Harry and Y/N were one wrong look or one more reproachful comment away from a full-blown argument at this point. 'Friendsmas' started on their second Christmas as a couple. Members of their individual friend group had met and gotten along extraordinarily well over the 18 months or so they had been together at the time and so came the idea to host a Christmas dinner and bring all their friends together for an evening and the tradition stuck.

This was the fifth year of Friendsmas. The cast of visitors rotated year to year, additional people brought in from making friends while working, friends from elsewhere who happened to be passing through London before Christmas, some people skipped a year for other commitments, some friends from their hometowns who came down for the event especially. No matter who was coming, they usually had a house full of people. Regular attendees included Mitch and Sarah who spent some time in the U.K. with her family before Christmas so always popped in for the free meal, and to see Harry in his frilly apron. Y/N’s childhood best friend, Audrey, also attended every single year. Well, apart from this year, she told Y/N a few weeks ago that she had a work deadline and unavoidable meeting the day of the dinner and to say that Y/N was devastated was an understatement. Y/N wouldn’t even be travelling to her hometown over Christmas this year, so she didn’t know when she’d get to see Audrey next. Her missing Audrey didn’t disguise how fuming she was at Harry though.

“I don’t even know if we have enough to feed an extra person,” Y/N sighed, exasperated.

“Don’t start with that, y’know we have more than enough, we’re usually eating leftovers until Christmas,” Harry shot back while stirring the soup they had simmering away on the stove top, “Christ, y’could’ve chopped the veg a little smaller, love, it’s taking ages to soften,” Harry said, he thought innocently but it sounded as if he was criticising her work, while peering into the bubbling pot.

Y/N’s head snapped round to glare at the back of his head, “I’d have liked to have even seen you pick up a knife to chop the veg, love.”

“Eh, excuse me, I sorted out all the main course options, did I not?” Harry abandoned the simmering soup to turn around, looking comical with his hands on his hips clad in his red gingham apron that was decorated with frills and ruffles.

“Oh please, you took everything out the packaging and stuck it in the oven and the slow cooker,” Y/N rolled her eyes, going back to her task of slicing carrots and parsnips to go with the main course.

“I had my hand up that turkey’s arsehole, stuffing it for you because it makes you feel sick, I don’t even eat turkey and I still done it, so don’t give me that,” Harry retorted, he watched her back as he saw her head bow down and heard a sigh escape her lips, “want t’tell me the real reason you’re all grumpy, hm?”

“M’not grumpy,” Y/N turned in her seat to look at him, sounding very grumpy. He walked over to where she was sat preparing the vegetables at the table in the kitchen and he perched on the edge of the table.

“Sure, you’re not,” he said sarcastically, before his tone softened when he saw her expression, she looked weary, for lack of a better word. “Hey, c’mon pretty, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just stressed about the dinner,” Y/N muttered, dropping the paring knife she was using onto the cutting board and began playing with a loose thread on her jumper, avoiding his gaze, embarrassed she had been quite rude to him.

“Why? This is not our first rodeo with having everyone round for this dinner, we’ve been doing it five years now, I think we’ve got it down to a fine art by now,” Harry looked bemused, they really did have a good system going for preparing for tonight, but one thing after another seemed to irritate each other and cause things to go wrong.

“It’s not this dinner I’m stressed about,” she whispered.

Harry placed his hand under chin and moved her head, so she was finally looking at him, “explain please,” he gently coaxed.

“Christmas Day dinner,” Y/N stated, as Harry’s eyes searched hers, “it’s just we’re having both our families here for the first time for Christmas day and I know we usually help out if we’re at m’parents or your mums, but we’re doing everything this year, and tonight jus’ feels like a practice run and we keep arguing and making mistakes and what if we ruin everyone’s Christmas and I don’t want us to fight on Christmas either,” Y/N spilled out, chin quivering with emotion as her lips settled in a downturned expression.

“Okay, first of all,” Harry said as he crouched down in front of her, so he was perched just under her eyeline, as he held onto her clasped hands that were sat in her lap, “we’re not arguing, have we said some comments that have annoyed the other? Yeah, but m’not angry or upset with you and we’re not going to argue on Christmas either,” Harry said with a sort of finality in his voice, as Y/N nodded, she knew it was just her mind racing away on her that was causing all these thoughts. “Secondly, nothing has went wrong today, we’ve went a long way for a short cut, but nearly everything is prepped, it’s just the case of putting it in the oven at the right time, isn’t it?” his thumbs rubbed slow circles onto her hands.

“Yeah,” Y/N looked around their busy kitchen, as much as they had had their moments today, Harry was right, everything was ready, just about, Y/N was in the process of finishing up the vegetables and everything they could have done was finished.

“Right see, we’ve got it down to an art, and on Christmas Day, we’re just going to do an exact repeat of what we did today, it’ll all be muscle memory,” he reassured her before a grin took over his face, “and it’s our family. D’you really think they’d sit by and let us do everything, my mum will have her hand up that turkey before she’s even taken her coat off,” Harry laughed.

“I’m being mental, aren’t I?” Y/N asked.

“Not mental, y’just care about making it perfect for everyone,” he smiled, pressing up on his feet to give her a soft kiss she happily returned, “an’ m’sorry for not telling you about us having an extra guest until this morning, I just didn’t think.”

“No, you’re right, we always have a tonne of extra food, we could have four extra people show up and still have leftovers, think I just woke up stressed and took it out on you, I’m sorry,” she broke one of her hands free to run it through his hair that he had left loose and wild on top of his head, “and thank you,” she trailed off.

“S’okay, m’heart,” he forgave her, “why are y’saying thank you?” he quizzed.

“Thank you for sticking your hand up the turkey to stuff it ‘cause y’know it makes me feel gross, even though I accused you of not doing anything,” she smiled softly.

“I’d stick my hand up a hundred turkeys if you needed me too,” Harry chuckled, “now why don’t y’go get washed up and changed for people coming, I’ll finish these up,” he nodded to the half-prepared tray of vegetables.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, go get even prettier, though I’m still not sure that’s physically possible,” Harry flirted before pulling her to her feet and sending her on her way out of the kitchen with a pat to her bum.

***

The dining table was lit by the soft light of the dinner candles that were in the centre of the table and decorated other surfaces around the room, the glow making the glassware sparkle and cutlery gleam in the light. The couple had gotten their posh crockery, cutlery, and glassware out for their soiree, and had the table decorated with heavy cloths, ornate napkin rings and a Christmas cracker placed at every setting. The room was buzzing with chatter and laughter, as they all shared a drink before their meal, taking the time to catch up with all their guests. There was still one seat empty though, Johnny’s new girlfriends place. Y/N thought it was strange that he showed up without her but no one else seemed to voice it, so she paid it no mind. Harry had donned his frilly apron again, this time over his cream suit he wore for the evening, rather than the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants look he wore earlier. He was popping in and out the room as he made sure everything was coming along for their first course as he forced Y/N to sit down and have a glass of wine with everyone before she got up to help him. As she was hearing a story from one of Harry’s friends from home about their staff Christmas night out where the boss got so drunk, they had to send a companywide apology email the next morning, the doorbell rang.

“Y/N/N, can you get the door, love, I’m just starting to plate up,” Harry called through from the kitchen.

“Got it! Johnny, it must be your missus, y’want to come get the door?” Y/N asked leaning over the table to catch his attention.

“No, it’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here,” Johnny said, there was a hint of something strange in his tone and in the expression on his fence as Y/N looked confused before leaving the room to get the door when the bell rang again.

“Weird,” she muttered under her breath before her hand grasped the door handle and twisted, opening the heavy, wooden door.

There was a woman, her back turned to Y/N, she had a thick, woollen, pink coat on, and her hair fell down her back. Very familiar hair at that, “hi, welcome, come on i-” Y/N cut herself off as the woman turned round. “Audrey?” Y/N gasped, as her best friend twisted round to face her with a grin so wide that it could split the sky in two graced her face.

“The one and only, in the flesh. Hiya babes,” Audrey held her arms out to her sides as if to present herself before Y/N flung herself out the front door into her friends awaiting embrace.

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” Y/N squealed, bouncing the two women up and down as she kept her grip around her friend’s middle. She broke away, eyeing her friend with the same earth-shattering smile.

“Ask y’fella,” Audrey nodded behind Y/N as Y/N unlatched herself from Audrey to turn round to see Harry leaning against the open doorway, arms crossed, tea towel slung over his shoulder, a fond smile on his face, that made his dimple appear, etched onto his face as he watched the two friends reunite. “I genuinely wasn’t going to make it, Harry called me last week to double check, but he phoned about two minutes after I got an email saying the meeting was cancelled and the deadline pushed to the new year. Mr. Man over there snapped his fingers and here I am, and I’m bloody starving, hope you’ve got enough,” Audrey said, sarcastic in her last sentence, knowing they always made far too much.

“Look at you two scheming behind m’back,” Y/N’s eyes flitted between Audrey and Harry as she led Audrey into the house, taking her coat off her to put away.

“Happy I didn’t tell you about our extra guest, now?” Harry whispered in Y/N’s ear as Audrey knelt to pet Harry and Y/N’s dog, Vinnie, who was loving all the extra attention from the guests in their home, he had only just removed himself from lying under the dining table so he could meet the new visitor at the door.

“Best surprise,” Y/N reached up to kiss his lips briefly, “thank you, that’s you got all the brownie points today, got m’best friend here and had your hand up the turkey’s arsehole, y’like Prince Charming,” she giggled against his lips before kissing him again.

“Shall we get this thing going, first course is ready, m’love,” Harry broke away as he began to walk back to the kitchen with her following to help him.

“Let’s do it,” Y/N said confidently, “Audrey, go take a seat, y’next to me and H,” she smiled at her friend before pausing, “wait, y’not actually Harry’s mate Johnny’s missus, are you?”

“Never even met the fella, but by the end of the night and a few glasses of the good stuff,” she raised the glass of wine Harry had given her up to Y/N as she stood in the doorway of the dining room, “who knows?” she shrugged with a wink before disappearing into the rabble of their friends that filled their dining room as their laughter filled the room and coloured their home with joy.

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

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nowandajenn · 4 months ago

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Blue Christmas- chapter 1

Author' note: I realized that the links to the different chapters of this story weren't working, so I'm re-uploading the chapters. sorry for the spam!

There was something wrong. I knew there was something wrong. You know that feeling you get when you leave the house and you suddenly can’t remember if you left the stove on? Or if you left your hair straightener plugged in? It just sits there and nags at you and drives you up a fucking wall. That’s how it felt.

I lay in bed, wrapped in the cozy white down comforter with Dodger in bed next to me. I run my hand through his fur as my mind runs wild.

I look at the empty space next to me and sigh. Chris was up and out of the house early, kissing me on the forehead before he left. I always woke up just enough to be aware when he did it and to smile a tiny bit. Every time he did it, it made my heart flutter. It’s crazy that after nearly three years of marriage (three years in about a week, actually) and six years together, he could still make my heart race in the best ways.

He’s been back for two days after doing press and promotion for the new movie, and I’m so glad to have him home for a while. Christmas was sacred in the Evans family, so we always made sure that we were always both home and there for everything that the season had to offer. In six years, we’ve never spent a Christmas apart. It’s a rule.

I think back to the fight we had a few days ago, before he came home. A fight that took place over FaceTime, no less. What a stupid way to have a fight. We’ve been trying for a baby for the last year and a half. Since Chris’ contract with Marvel was ending, we both decided to go for it. Both from decent sized Irish Catholic families, we couldn’t wait to start one of your own. I’m young(ish), healthy, in good physical shape, and I took care of my body. For a year and a half I tracked my ovulation cycle, took my temperature, held my legs up in the air after sex (to Chris’ endless amusement), and did every other stupid thing I read about things to help get pregnant. But none of it had worked.

My OB-GYN told me not to stress about it. Lots of couples tried for over a year before getting pregnant. There was nothing to worry about. There was no medical reason why I shouldn’t be getting pregnant. We were both trying our best to deal with it, but it was frustrating. I had mentioned over FaceTime that maybe it was time that we started looking into in vitro fertilization or adoption. In my head, I knew that I was jumping the gun, but I had this sinking feeling inside me that if I hadn’t gotten pregnant yet, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Chris had gotten angry, telling me that maybe the reason I hadn’t gotten pregnant was because I was constantly stressing out about it to the point of almost making myself sick, and why couldn’t we just keep trying and if it happened, it happened. I rarely, if ever, saw my husband lose his cool, and especially not with me.

The video call had ended on a tense note, Chris muttering an apology before he told me that he had to leave for an interview, and me on the other end feeling like an asshole and like maybe I was extremely overreacting about the whole thing.

When I had picked him up from the airport two days ago, Chris had swept me up in his arms and kissed me soundly, apologizing profusely for “being a horse’s ass” (his words) and telling me that if I wanted to make an appointment with the fertility doctor we had gone to see to talk about options, he was in.

But something was off. To the untrained eye, everything was fine, but I knew my husband. I knew him better than almost anyone, except maybe his mom. I went to work at my photo studio in downtown Concord, Chris spent time with his buddies from high school like he always did when he came back home, we both decorated for Christmas and played with Dodger in the snow. All seemed perfectly normal. Except for the fact that I knew Chris was having issues with his anxiety. There were little tics he got when it was bad. I was the same way. I had asked him more than once what was bothering him, but he always said everything was fine, and told me not to worry.

Normally, whenever he got home from being away for any extended amount of time, we could barely keep our hands off each other for the first week, getting absolutely nothing accomplished and being the butt of jokes between his siblings about being disgusting and insatiable. However, we haven’t even been naked in the same room together since he got back. I didn’t think TOO much of it, chalking it up to jet lag and the stress of the press and our upcoming wedding anniversary and the holidays.

Waking up alone was another sign that something was off. When Chris was home, mornings were spent in bed, cuddling, drinking coffee, laughing at Dodger wedging himself between us, trying to get maximum affection from his two favorite humans. Mornings meant slow kisses, wandering hands, fingers pushed gently through hair, breathy moans, whispered declarations of love and adoration. Mornings were the best part of my day; Chris making sure that I woke up gently, kisses pressed down the column of my throat, fingers tracing my hip and disappearing under the sheets, breath ghosting over my flesh, making me shiver. Waking up god awful early was worth it if this is how my day started.

Finally deciding that it was probably time to get my ass out of bed and take Dodger out and get him fed, I pulled on my robe and slippers and headed downstairs. Waiting for the coffee to brew, I looked out into the backyard and watched Dodger chasing birds around our spacious backyard, the bright sunlight reflecting off of the fluffy white snow covering everything, and bit the inside of my cheek.

There was something wrong.

I could feel it.

There was something going on with my husband and he wouldn’t talk to me about it.

#blue christmas #chris evans #angst #chris evans fic #rpf

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goldenfreddys · 7 months ago

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september ‘04, cont.— ndn summer, babe!

A batch of frybread didn't take much: just flour, oil, water and a little bit of baking powder. Simple, easy, difficult to mess up. Most vitally, Nadia liked it. She liked it when she was sad, when she was sick, and even when she seemed to have lost her appetite completely.

Jeremy had one of his mixtapes playing quietly from an old stereo on the counter as he cooked. The dough had been largely trial and error, given measuring spoons weren't exactly on the top of the priority list when it came to getting stuff for their apartment, but it looked good nonetheless.

He flinched hard as a sudden knock came on the door. The puck of dough he was holding hit the oil with a tad too much force, sending small, hot droplets onto his hands.

Jeremy swore quietly and rushed to run some cold tap water over his skin. Another string of knocks.

“Can y'all hold your horses for a minute?!”

He heard a muffled apology from outside. After a couple seconds, he turned off the tap and dried his hands. He twisted the knob on the stove to low heat then headed over to open the door.

Two people stood outside.

“Hey, cousin!” The girl with straight brown hair and long, beaded tassel earrings greeted him.

Jeremy started quickly adding up her features in his head.

“... Chantelle?”

“And Tate. We brought food.” Her older brother added, holding out a foil covered dish.

Both of them were taller than Jeremy remembered, though that was unsurprising given how long ago he last saw them in person. He vaguely remembered spending a summer—maybe sophomore year—with his uncle and cousins, helping them work the trapline. The mosquitos were thick as a veil that year.

Jeremy let them in, then went back to the stove to finish cooking the frybread, nodding along as Chantelle chattered.

“So where are you workin’ now, Remy?”

“Stuck doing graveyard shifts as a security guard.” he said, far more focused on trying to flip the frybread with a fork against the side of the pan without splashing more oil on himself.

“She asked where.” Tate interjected flatly.

The dough sizzled. He managed to get the bottom side perfectly fried, which was a rare feat to accomplish on the first piece— usually, you had to poke around a bit with the stove temperature and cooking time as you went.

“Sorry, uh... One sec.”

Jeremy grabbed a paper plate from the cupboard and put it down by the stove before continuing hesitantly, “... The new pizza place.”

“Freddy’s? Say sike,” Chantelle groaned.

“I told you not to go promising auntie we’d look out for his dumb ass. Doomed from the start.”

“My bad. I assumed most people wouldn't wanna work at the murder arcade.”

Though Chantelle was flippant about it, the way she spoke had a weight to it that surpassed the mere superstition that had surrounded the pizzeria for years. He felt like he might have missed a community notice from the municipality reminding him that the animatronics at the local Freddy’s Pizza, for reasons unknown, become lethally aggressive at night.

Jeremy sighed, “It- uh, gets worse. I’m only making 6.75 an hour, too.”

“My friend’s brother worked there for a while. They haven’t seen him in weeks, but someone found his car in the lake a few days ago.” Chantelle stated, “Not like the cops are gonna do anything, though. They’re fuckin’ allergic to the place.”

“I know. It’s temporary.”

“That’s what everyone says! Then they get killed or get real fucked up, like that Afton guy.”

“Said I know.” Jeremy repeated, though it came out much harsher than he wanted, “... Sorry. I-I just gotta make rent until I hear back from somewhere else, okay?”

He piled hot frybread onto the paper plate and set it down on the beat-up dinner table Nadia had snagged off the side of the road. The room was in desperate need of a subject change.

“You gonna tell me what you brought?”

“Rabbit roast. Dad cut off the head so you wouldn't act like a baby about it.” Tate nudged him teasingly.

“Tell him I said thanks.”

Jeremy felt deep in his gut that this was going to be a phenomenal mistake; though, in his head, he felt a fresh wave of nauseating pain shooting through his temples.

Eventually, his cousins went on their way. Jeremy switched the stereo off, then sighed.

Though he’d spent the duration of their visit waiting for them to leave, a feeling of dread began to pool in his chest. Dimly, thick-fingered beams of light reached through the partially drawn blinds above the sink.

He forced himself to step away from the counter. The pills Dr. Miller gave him were still in his bag, which was on a chair by the door. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. The bottle was orange with a child resistant cap—fairly standard affair—though entirely unlabelled. No instructions on dosage, nor how and when to take them. Hesitantly, he opened the bottle and took one of the round tablets out. Light purple, round, no imprint number, scored on one side.

The taste of coppery tap water lingered in his mouth with something oddly sweet after he swallowed the tablet.

#my writing #parmaverse #blinks at you. indigenously

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barry-j-blupjeans · 2 years ago

Note

28 "I know I've played with hearts before..." From the song prompts please!

28. “I know I’ve played with hearts before, don’t have the heart to play with yours”

(the prompt is in the Subtext sldfksd. just go with it)

Over the past few weeks, since a nasty argument Julia had had with him, Magnus Burnsides had begun to... change. Not in any huge ways, but it was definitely noticeable. His almost non-stop brashness from before faded away little by little. He did his chores with only a good-natured eye roll and for once, he seemed to actually be trying to learn the skills behind his bragging. More than once, Julia had caught him actually working on a project, and not just pretending to work on it. And, not that she was ever going to admit it, but Magnus was kind of killer at wood carving.

He didn't butt heads with her about stupid things anymore. And when Julia suggest something to improve one of his projects, he seemed to take it to heart. Hell, he had even let her show him how to do the hinges on a large chest correctly when Pa wasn't around to help.

Now, instead of being frustrated at his lack of tact and care, Julia was just finding the whole situation weird. He had gone from one extreme to an almost entirely different one. Maybe someone had charmed him? No, probably not. Sometimes, he'd begin to start a typical rebuttal and stop himself halfway, flushing, and continuing in a way with much more authenticity and warmth.

He was being weird. This was not normal Magnus behavior. Normal Magnus behavior gave her a lot more headaches. This Magnus made her chest feel funny and her heart do little flips.

But she had to draw the line at him attempting to cook breakfast for them.

"No," Julia said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Magnus turned, wearing an apron that was almost comically too small for him.

"Julia!" he said, smiling. "I made breakfast."

"No," Julia said again, coming further in. She stepped past Magnus to see the burnt crisp of... maybe bacon? in the skillet. She grimaced. "Magnus?"

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck is this?" she asked, picking up the skillet by the handle. It was cold. Why was it cold?

"Breakfast?" Magnus said. "For you and St-"

"No," Julia said again, settling the skillet aside. She turned to Magnus. "Listen, I, uh, I appreciate your effort, I really do. But you really didn't have to."

"I wanted to, though," Magnus said.

"You really didn't have to," Julia repeated. There was a pot on the stove, too, that Julia was afraid to look into. "I can make breakfast and you can clean up if you really wanna help that bad. But this is- ugh. No. Sorry, but no."

"Aw," Magnus said, genuinely looking a little sad. Fuck, Julia didn't want to make him feel bad about it. "I mean, I get it, but still. I tried my best!"

"I'm sure you did," Julia said, gently lifting the pan up and setting it into Magnus's arms, outright refusing to look in. "You do... something with this and I'll make food."

"Right," Magnus said. He took the skillet as well, disappearing out of the kitchen, and Julia sighed, getting started on the new food. He hadn't used all the bacon, but the half a dozen eggs they had last night were now gone. There was oatmeal across the pantry floor. By the time she scrounged together enough food to make a meal for three, Magnus was back, with mysteriously empty cookware. He stepped over to the sink as Julia started on more bacon.

There existed in silence for a few minutes and Julia took a few glances at him out of the corner of his eye. He had changed. A couple of weeks ago, Magnus would have never voluntarily tried to make a meal for anyone more than himself, let alone her. But here he was, cleaning up his mess after his shitty attempt. At least he had tried.

And, apparently, tried his best, too.

"Julia?" Magnus said after a few more minutes. He was attempting to scrub away the charred bacon on the skillet.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking about, uhm, a few weeks ago. When you told me I couldn't be nice even if I tried?"

Ah. Well, Julia had said a lot of much worse things in that argument, but she wasn't going to complain if he didn't mention those.

"I remember," she said evenly.

"And I... well, at first I was like, I'm gonna be the nicest person alive just to prove her wrong," he said. Julia remembered very well the first few days after that argument, where Magnus had passive-aggressively spent his time being nice to her. "But then, as time passed, your words kind of... sunk in a little more. And I realized that you were, uh, you were right. And I was wrong. And that I am an asshole. So. Yeah."

Julia flipped over the bacon, taking her time. When she was done, she turned to see Magnus, soap bubbles halfway up his arms, turning to look at her, too.

"Took you long enough," she said. Her heart did a backflip at his laugh.

#magnulia #magnus burnsides #julia burnsides #julia waxmen #asks #noodyl-blasstal #mine #ise cube writing

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ks-dreams-fantasies · 4 years ago

Note

Hii can i request a Vinnie x reader where the reader live at the hype house and shes a big tiktoker too and the reader is just soft and she spend alot time at Vinnie's room bc they're secretly dating but no one knew abt it just they're family and thomas and alex and the others kinda knew abt it bc the reader and Vinnie is kinda spending time together a lot and one day Vinnie got a cold and that same day thomas is filming a video and the reader is cutting apples(or any fruit ) for Vinnie and thomas started filming her and ask her if thats for vinnie the fruits that the reader are cutting bc they knew vinnie is sick and the reader said "no, its for me" why a little laugh at the end and she didn't know that thomas is filming her going to vinnie's room and suddenly thoms burst in to Vinnie's room and filming them and see the reader is taking care of Vinnie...you can do whatever you want at the endd just vinnie soft and cuddly thank youuu! <333

Taking care of our boy? - Vinnie Hacker

Hey love 😘 Thank you so much for your request, I hope my story did it justice … I made a few changes, but the idea is still there 🙄 I feel like Vinnie would be such a baby when he’s sick 😆 Enjoy

Warning : None

Word Count : 1.2

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

Vinnie hated being sick. He had been feeling off the past couple of days and when he woke up congested, his throat burning, he groaned, rolling onto his side seeing you laying peacefully next to him. You had fallen asleep the night before, after going to Vinnie’s room to watch anime with him. You, being a newly big TikToker, had moved into the Hype House a few months ago, hitting it off quickly with him. You always got teased for it, often getting shipped online with the fact that you guys seemed to be close to each other. People weren’t totally wrong since you and Vinnie had decided to start dating a few weeks ago, hiding it to the public due to the fact that it was still new and scared of the hate you would get if his fans found out.

Not a lot of people knew about your relationship, just your closest friends and of course the other members of the Hype House. Living with them, didn’t make it easy to keep you both a secret, but they respected your decision. You had thought about coming out since people kind of assumed you were together after seeing how close you both were in Thomas and Alex’s vlogs. The responses to their videos were mostly sweet and encouraging, so you often thought about it. You had both posted a few TikToks with each other over the past couple of months and you were seen leaving places together lately, hinting to the public that something was happening between you and Vinnie

He tried getting back to sleep, closing his eyes, coughing a few times before feeling you move beside him. You got closer to him wrapping one of your arms around his torso, opening your eyes as you felt the temperature of his body.

“Baby, you’re boiling hot” you gasped, lifting your upper body to look at him, putting your hand on his forehead. He groaned again before coughing making you sight

“I’ll run you a bath so you can relax, and I’ll go to the store to buy some medicine, okay baby?” you said getting up grabbing a hoodie out of Vinnie’s closet

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fin-“ he got interrupted by a fit of coughs

“Sure” you chuckled lightly “Wait here, the bath should be done in a few minutes” you said, disappearing into the bathroom connected to his room, turning on the faucet for the water to start running. You took a towel putting it near the bathtub, calling him in when it got filled up

“Ok, so I’ll run to the store really quick, I’ll be back in a few, try to relax” You said leaving a kiss on his temple, before leaving his room, going downstairs towards your car.

You got back home about 30 minutes later with a bag filled with medicine for Vinnie when you phone dinged indicating a new notification. You opened your phone, seeing that Vinnie had just posted a new Tiktok. You shook your head, laughing slightly, even when sick, he always found a way to make something for his fans. The video consisted of him getting his head out of the water, his hair now being wet. Vinnie being Vinnie, didn’t write much for the caption

Sick 🤧

The comments were already flooded with a bunch of messages from girls saying how much they would kill to come take care of him and how good looking he was. You put your phone in your back pocket as you entered the house, making your way to the kitchen seeing the others sitting at the counter, sipping on their coffee, laughing at something Michael had said.

“Look who decided to join us earlier than usual” Alex said pointing his camera towards you, as showed him your middle finger, sticking out your tongue

“Ouhhh grumpy, she probably didn’t have her coffee yet guys, excuse her” he said laughing, turning the camera back towards Calvin, who was trying to do god knows what. You went to the fridge, taking out some fruits to cut while you put the teakettle on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. You prepared everything while listening to their stories and laughing at them. You took out a tray, placing a plate of freshly cut berries with two mugs and some pills on the side to bring up to Vinnie.

“Two mugs? Perhaps the tea is for Vinnie? Taking care of our boy while he’s sick, I see” Alex stated, grinning softly as he turned the camera back towards you

“Vinnie’s sick? I didn’t know” you said shrugging your shoulders “I’m just really thirsty, that’s all” you continued as you picked up the tray, the others humming, knowing well enough you were lying.

“Anyways, see you later, I have some things to take care of” you said already halfway out of the kitchen making your way up the stairs

“I bet you guys a hundred bucks that the things she needs to take care of is Vinnie” Michael said, laughing as he shook his head.

Arriving to Vinnie’s bedroom you knock on the door hearing a faint “come in” before opening the door, seeing your boyfriend lying in bed, watching anime.

“Hey baby, I brought you berries and tea” you said walking up to him while he moved to sat down “Here take these” you handed him the medicine and his cup of tea while you move to sit beside him with the plate and your own cup of coffee.

“Thank you” he sipped on his tea, the hot liquid soothing the tickled in the back of his throat. You had both finished eating and drinking, putting the plates and mugs away on the nightstand when Vinnie started coughing again

“Poor baby” you said stroking his warm cheeks “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” you asked him, worried

“Can we just stay here and cuddle?” he said looking into your eyes, pouting as you smiled at him

“Of course, Vin” you answered as he laid his head on your chest, your hands massaging his scalp slowing, making him let out a small groan of appreciation, enjoying the comfort. A few moments later, the sound of light snoring made you smile softly, indicating Vinnie had fallen back asleep. You knew he didn’t sleep much the night before, so you were happy that he could relax for a bit. You could hear some shuffling in the hallway and soon enough the door opened, Alex and Michael entering the room, fake gasping at the sight before their eyes.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Alex said, capturing every moment on his camera

“Shhh! Can’t you see he’s sleeping” you whispered-yelled trying to shush them up, wavering your hands for them to go away

“I guess I was right hun?” Michael said to the camera, a wide grin on his face.

“Mhhhhh” Vinnie groaned, squeezing your body tighter “Baby, tell them to go away” he mumbled groggily, still sleepy.

“AH I TOLD YOU SO! You guys owe me 100 bucks” Michael shouted as he pointed the lenses with his index finger, before Vinnie threw a pillow at him, exhausted

“I swear if you guys don’t get out –“ he got interrupted by the two guys laughing and exiting the room, closing the door behind him. You laughed lightly as he laid back down on your chest

“They are so annoying” he sighed “Thanks for taking care of me baby”

“Anytime Vin” you responded, smiling, leaving a kiss on his forehead.

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

Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

#vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker fluff #tiktok boys

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christowhore · 3 years ago

Text

Making You Mine

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader, chris evans x oc!female (brief)

summary: you and chris have your first date.

word count: 3.0k

warnings: !!! 18+ minors dni !!! slight smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 28, chris is 39) suggestive conversation, two dorks in love, alcohol consumption, heavy making out, dry humping, orgasms, rpf

notes: ngl to y’all i didn’t even mean to make it include some smut, but i ended up getting carried away. this is the second part of the ‘Pining for Professor’ series. i hope you all enjoy it and make sure to let me know what you think! *i do not give consent for this fic to be reposted or translated*

join my taglist !

MAIN MASTERLIST • SERIES MASTERLIST

The next few days that passed after your encounter seemed to fly by. You were busy working on your dissertation while Chris was attending ASP interviews.The two of you would text from time to time, just keeping the other updated about your life.

Chris had planned the evening out. Before considering what meal he wanted to make you, he made sure to ask you about any dietary concerns or allergies that you might have, and he was thankful that he did. You informed him that the only food allergy you had was apples. Part of him thought you were joking because he never heard of that being a restriction one could face, but after sending him a photo of one of your allergic reactions, he trashed every single apple he had stored in his fridge. A dramatic reaction, yes, but he wanted to make sure you were both completely safe and comfortable.

He decided on making a simple pasta dinner, something easy that he believed he couldn’t possibly mess up. It wasn’t until he was googling wine pairings when he remembered the woman he was supposed to have this same evening with just a few days ago; Lindsey.

Chris had been so preoccupied with you that he completely forgot about the woman. Looking at his phone and opening their messages, he saw that he had been accidentally ghosting her for the past three days. Not knowing how to deliver the news, he decided it would be best to break things off over the phone than through a text.

Clicking on her contact, he dialed her number and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear. He was pondering on what to say when he heard her voice through the phone. “Hey stranger, I was wondering when you were gonna call me back.”

“Hey Lindsey, sorry I got a little busy with life. Can we talk?”

For about the next five minutes, Chris tried his best to not give the cliche ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse, but in the end he had to explain to the woman how he met somebody else, you, and that he didn’t want to string her along any longer. The call ended with some harsh words from her which he expected. Even though he hated that he hurt her feelings, in the end all he kept thinking about was you.

A couple miles away from his home, you were at your house going through your entire wardrobe trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. Did you want to go the fancy route and wear a nice dress or something casual like jeans and a blouse? Even though Chris told you the plans he had scheduled for your rendezvous, you were still feeling nervous about the whole affair.

Thankfully with the help of your friends, they were able to ease your worries and help you out with your ensemble.

The night before the planned evening, the two of you lay awake, plagued with nerves. Worried about messing up and ruining the chance to be with the other.

With how his morning started the day of his previously planned affair, Chris made sure that nothing could stand in the way of tonight. He had his suit pressed, the ingredients needed for the meal prepped, and a bouquet of red roses bought fresh from the florist resting in a vase of water. Scott went with Dodger over to his sister Shanna’a house, leaving the home to himself.

The day proceeded quickly and soon enough it was time for the date. You agreed to drive over and meet him at his home, arriving there around eight in the evening.

Walking up to the home and knocking on the door, you kept cracking your knuckles, a nervous tick of yours whenever you got anxious. Once the entryway was opened and Chris stepped into your sight, all of those pesky jitters suddenly left your body.

Chris was clad in a tailored black suit that clung to his frame. The white button up he donned was crisp and clean, you could make out a few of his tattoos peeking through the material. Accessorizing his attire, he wore a black and silver watch, the silver in the band matching the Saint Christopher medallion clasped around his neck showing through the opening of his top. His hair was perfectly gelled, making him look fresh out of a photo shoot.

He looked absolutely delectable and part of you didn’t even care about the meal, you just wanted to know how the material of his clothes felt against your skin.

When Chris opened up his door he knew you’d be there, beautiful as ever but he didn’t expect the sight that he was met with.

Your regularly curly hair was straightened, cascading off your shoulders and perfectly framing your face. The makeup you applied made your features light up. He took notice of the lipgloss you put on and all he wanted to do was grab you and taste the substance that was lucky enough to touch your lips.

Looking your body up and down, he noticed your black silk dress, a tie in the middle cinching the material together. The material stopped at your mid thighs revealing your velvety smooth legs and high heeled shoes. Thoughts of him trailing his hands up the sides of your calves while he pinned you below him flashed in his mind. Quickly he shook the image out of his mind to put back all of his attention on you.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he whispered in awe.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As you entered his home, he placed a hand on the small of your back tugging your frame into him so he could place a kiss on your cheek. The same butterflies you experienced when he pecked you that night in the parking lot reappeared by the dozens.

The smell of sautéing onions and garlic filled your senses, instantly making your stomach lurch around. “Whatever it is you're making smells amazing,” you commented to the brunette.

He bashfully smiled, “Thank you, I’m almost finished, though I should let you know I’m not the greatest cook.”

You laughed at his comment, unconsciously placing your palm against his upper arm. “It’s alright Chris, at least you have your looks right?”

It was his turn to laugh, your playful matter had him buzzing.

The two of you made your way through the kitchen, him to the front of the stove while you sat in the high chair behind the counter top. Before he returned to cooking the vegetables, he grabbed the bouquet of red roses he had ordered and handed them to you, a smile instantly appearing on your face.

You thanked him for his generosity and the two of you continued on in lively conversation while he focused back on finishing dinner.

Laughter filled the room while you two chatted in his living room. You two had finished dinner, Chris making a wonderful shrimp scampi that even he was surprised tasted good.

Even though you spent three hours talking that evening in your office, you two didn’t have any difficulty finding new topics to explore.

You spoke about your family and how life was growing up without siblings. How it felt being at an advanced academic level at such a young age, which allowed you the opportunity of being employed at the university at 21. Surprisingly, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around the man, something that you had never done before. It was something about his demeanor. His presence was inviting and captivating, and all you wanted to do was continue to be around the actor.

Chris was at a loss of words with how to describe how you made him feel. You had such a hypnotizing way to yourself. He would listen to your laugh and drink it in as if it were the last time his ears would be blessed with the sound. Your smile was so genuine, stretching from ear to ear and all he wanted to do was keep that look on your face till the end of his days. He didn’t know he was staring at you until you waved in front of his face, regaining his attention.

“Earth to Evans. Are you okay there?” Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed while you stared intently into his eyes, waiting for his response. He didn’t even think about the next words that came out of his mouth when he spoke.

“I know that we just met last week, and this is only our first date, but would you do me the honor of being able to call you my girlfriend?”

The statement that was rushed out of his mouth had you choke on your glass of wine. Regaining your composure, you set the drink down and looked up at Chris.

There wasn’t any humor in his eyes, just determination as well as a bit of trepidation.

You were about to speak when he started up again. “Usually when meeting someone, I go on about two to three dates with them. Get to know them and go through the ‘what if’s’ possibilities. But with you I realized I can’t wait that long. The only thing I care about is being able to see that smile on your face, and have the melodic sound of your laugh ingrained in my life. And I don’t want to waste another second trying to determine ‘what if’ we’re not a match when I already know that you’re the one for me.”

This time you were the one at a loss of words. Emotions wrangle throughout your body. You were nervous, but the nerves that stood on end were due to the fact of being scared of how quickly you were falling for him.

Without saying anything but donning a beaming grin, you nodded.

Chris immediately leant forward and molded his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and delicate. His right hand slightly cupped your cheek, and in that moment you felt safe, you felt at ease. There was no other place the two of you wanted to be than right there in each other’s embrace.

When you pulled away it felt like time was at a standstill, nothing else mattered but the two of you being together. Even though he wasn’t a photographic person, Chris felt this overwhelming need to document this moment.

He quickly pulled out his phone and asked you if it were okay to take a photo of the two of you, a personal keepsake so to speak. You nuzzled into his side, shoulders touching, breaths fanning across each other’s face. Chris extended his hand with the camera app open and aimed towards the two of you. Though you were looking at the screen, a beaming grin stretched across your features, he was only looking at you. Admiring you as if you were his entire world, which you were slowly but surely becoming. Snapping the photo, he locked his phone and tucked it away back into his slacks.

With the close proximity you two shared, he took advantage of the opportunity to kiss you again. He was desperate to feel you, touch you, taste you. The flavor of your strawberry lip gloss inviting him in.

You melted into him, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket pulling him closer into you. He leaned into your touch, causing the two of you to lay back against his couch.

His hips were slotted in between your legs, crotch rubbing against your warm core. The friction drawing out a low moan from your chest.

He continued to feverishly attack your mouth. This kiss was different from the first. This was pure hunger. You two were desperate to feel the other. His tongue slotted into your mouth, tasting the leftover remnants of the Pinot Grigio you consumed. Notes of grapes and honeysuckles on your tongue made him push deeper. The intoxicating taste and the effects of the alcohol had him unconsciously grinding into you, rubbing his cock against your covered mound.

You ran your hands across the expanse of his body. Rubbing his arms, slightly gripping his ass, tangling your hands into the brown tuffs of his hair, you couldn’t get enough. He felt amazing against you. The rubbing of his hips were drawing out moans that you didn’t even try to suppress due to the unwavering desire you felt towards him. You felt him lift your leg up, giving himself more room to rut against you. The movement caused your dress to hike up, showing the lace of your black thong to your now boyfriend.

The two of you continued with your actions. Tongue slapping against each other as you sloppily tasted the other. The movements of his hips against your cunt accelerated to a rigorous pace when he felt a wet patch growing on your panties.

You felt like honey teenagers, dry humping each other like a pair of desperate virgins, but in that moment it was perfect.

Drawing away from each other, Chris nestled his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shockwaves of arousal straight to your core.

You were both close to reaching your respective peak, your moans were getting wilder and his hips were becoming unruly.

It only took a few more bumps of his crotch against your covered clit for you to gush in your panties. An erotic moan left your lips and filled the room while your back arched, pushing your breasts against his chest.

Hearing the near pornographic sound that left your body, while feeling your peer nipples press against his front allowed him to reach his release as well. Biting down against the column of your neck, he came in his pants, filling his boxer briefs with his seed.

Chris collapsed on top of your panting body, the two of you trying to regain a steady breath. He lay there in your arms, your nails dragging along the nape of his neck.

When he finally regained composure, Chris raised up on his palms and looked down at you. And as if your minds were synced up, you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

After coming down for your laugh attacks, you excused yourself to the bathroom to freshen up.

You stood in front of the mirror, examining your reflection. There was still some adrenaline flowing through your bloodstream causing your hands to slightly shake. Your lips were red and swollen due to the attack on them moments prior. But what you couldn’t ignore was the dopey smile that seemed to take permanent residence on your face. You felt like a giddy schoolgirl, though you weren’t complaining.

Your recently ended relationship with your ex Justin was not great. The reason for the break up was due to the fact that he didn’t make you feel special. Looking back at it now you don’t even know why you agreed to start dating him in the first place. But you were thankful it concluded, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, with a man who looked at you like you hung the moon and placed every star in the sky yourself.

Back in the living room, Chris paced around the living room for your return. Happiness surged through him, making him pump his fist in the air like he was John Bender in The Breakfast Club.

He's been with plenty of women throughout his life, even getting engaged to one, but it was in this moment he realized he had never been so infatuated with someone until you entered his life. You made all of the hairs on his body stand up just by looking at him. It elated him but also scared him. It scared him due to how fast he was falling for you. But he didn’t care. Though this feeling was foreign, he had no problem welcoming it with open arms.

After a few moments consisting of composing yourself, you made your way out of the bathroom and back to Chris. You two stood there, just smiling at each other like idiots. It was him who finally piped up.

“So that was some first date.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment.

“Tell me about it,” you replied.

The two of you conversed some more before it got late and you decided to call it a night. Making sure you had all of your belongings, including your roses, he escorted you to your car.

Resting against the door, you couldn’t resist temptation so you pulled him into you, attaching your lips to his once more. This kiss wasn’t the apprehensive one you first shared, or the hungry and desperate one that came after. This kiss was full of passion. It was the type that made you breathe out a sigh of relief into the other's mouth, glad that your bodies were in union in such an intimate manner. Neither of you wanting it to end.

When you finally pulled apart, Chris rested his forehead against your own, trying to savor the moment a while longer.

“I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”

Repeating the actions yet again of your first meeting, he went to open your door, waiting for you to slide in before shutting in. After turning on the engine, you rolled the window down allowing Chris to rest against the frame on his forearms.

“See you later, girlfriend.”

“Right back at you, boyfriend.”

Giving you a fleeting kiss goodbye, he stood up and watched as you pulled out of his driveway and back to your home.

Chris stood there in his driveway for a while. He thought about how the date went twenty times better than any other one he’d ever been on. How you made him feel like the greatest man in the world. The way your lips met his and how it was like they were made to be caressed by his. The smile that crept on your face when he called you his girlfriend. And he thought about how now nothing else in this world mattered except for keeping you in his life and making sure that wonderful smile never left your features.

A/N: so the song True by Spandau Ballet is the song i envisioned when Chris opened the door. it’s that one slow 80s song they play in movies where it’s goes like ‘ah ah ah ahhh ahh’ it's all romantic and what not, y’all know the song i’m talking about, that one. cheesy i know, but i works.

anyway baby, i know there’s not a lot of dialogue, i’ve come to the realization that it’s one of my weakness but i’ll be working on it.

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* dividers credit: @firefly-graphics *

#chris evans #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #pining for professor

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btsxmalereaders · 4 years ago

Text

☆ Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you!

♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff | f2l

> word count — 4.3k I don't know how this happened

> summary — chan realises he likes you by not being able to use pickup lines on you

> a/n — i saw a tiktok where chan says he's gonna use a pickup line on felix and my love-deprived self ended up writing this lol i hope you all like it

| 05282021

| Please keep making more whosfan accounts and keep streaming WOLFGANG on the correct platforms!

"Hey, how you doin'?" Chan casually says as he enters the kitchen, trying not to grin and start giggling right away. He even places his hands over the table and tilts his head a little in an attempt to look confident. Felix takes his attention away from the food he is cooking and turns on his feet to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Good?" He answers with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

Chan finally lets out a small giggle, "Oh nothing, I was just thinking that... I am not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together."

And Felix thinks it's a creative pickup line, funny even, but what ends up making him laugh is the way his best friend bends over to start laughing louder and the way his cheeks turn reddish at the embarrassment he's probably feeling.

"That was a good one, I must say," He chuckles. "Not as great as the Optimus Fine one, though. Even if it made you laugh for ten minutes after you said it."

And Chan can only laugh harder at the remembrance, placing his hands over his slightly aching abdomen and gasp for air when he can't handle it anymore. Felix giggles as well and denies with his head, going back to stir what's on the pot.

"Stays keep getting creative when it comes to flirting with you," He speaks again as the laughter finally dies down. "They probably think you might use it on someone you like, and you're here almost crying because you use them on us."

Chan hums, "Well, I don't really like anyone right now."

Felix turns off the stove and makes a -dramatic- pause, turning again to face Chan as he gets closer and squints his eyes. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Chan laughs. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but I don't buy it. Maybe it's the love songs you have as drafts in your laptop."

"Ah, that doesn't mean I'm in love," He explains and takes a seat in front of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "That's why they're still drafts, though. They don't convey the feeling of being in love because I am not in love, you know?"

"Good point, but it still doesn't convince me."

"Why?" He asks again with a chuckle, a little embarrassed by the sudden interest in his - nonexistent - love life. "You know our activities barely give us time for ourselves, so it's almost impossible to have a relationship with someone. At least a formal one."

"You can still like someone and not be with them." Felix shrugs. "So spill it. Who is it?"

And Chan knows he's just messing around with him, but he can't help but feel flustered. "No one! I think so." He almost says it in a whisper; however, Felix doesn't comment on it.

"I still want to listen to those drafts," He stands up and smiles. "Why don't you show me?"

This was not the way Chan expected the conversation to go, so he hesitates a bit about his friend's request. Well, it wasn't unusual anyway, at least Changbin had heard a couple and also helped in the composition of the songs, so having someone else hear them wouldn't hurt. He might even listen to ideas on his part to improve them.

"Okay, I can do that. Next week Y/N will come to the studio and work on something, why don't you pop-up at some point and I can show you?"

Felix nods, "Sounds good! Y/N asked for help for his new album?"

"Yeah, he wants me to listen to some tracks he has been working on." He casually comments, taking his phone from his pocket and leading his attention to the device, so now Felix can't see the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, I haven't seen him in a while. Why hasn't he come to the dorm lately? We should invite him."

"He has been busy with his album, that's why. If you think I leave late from the studio, that's nothing compared to him, he truly spends an ungodly amount of time there."

"So you see him often?" Felix asks with sudden interest, now being aware of how Chan's ears are tinted pink.

"You could say that, yeah. He also spends time on my studio whenever he has the chance. And vice-versa." He shrugs, not finding it odd. You two were really good friends, so it was a normal thing for you to do. "Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." He mischievously laughs. "So, next week, you said?"

After a quick glance at the time on your phone, you decide to stand up and stretch your body. It's been a long time since you started working, and you still have a lot to do; and on top of it all, the progress you've made tonight doesn't totally convince you, and that just meant you'd be spending more time in the studio.

As you take your phone again to read your notes, a notification pops up on the top. You weren't supposed to meet up with Chan until later, but in the new message you just received, he tells you that he's free from working on his stuff and you could go earlier if you wanted.

You decide to go; after all, it was nearly impossible for you to concentrate again, and you truly needed to know what does he think about the tracks you sent him a few days ago to finally make an advance. So you grab your laptop after making sure you've saved the changes and the cup of half-drunk coffee, walking out to the long hall and taking the elevator to an upper floor.

The soles of your shoes are dragged across the floor all the way to the studio's door, where you softly knock a couple of times before remembering you already know the password to enter. Your fingers press the buttons, entering code you know by heart at this point, and the door quickly unlocks, making Chan to look your way and greet you with a smile.

"Hey, how have you been?" He sweetly says, seeing you entering the room and placing your belongings on top of the big desk in front of you and taking a seat on the couch behind him.

"Busy. And tired." You murmur and let out a sigh. Chan immediately plays a song at a low volume and takes seat next to you.

"You're still struggling with the track you told me about?"

You nod as an answer and pout, "I am desperate. It's like, no matter how many times I rewrite the lyrics or change the beats, it still doesn't convince me at all and I hate it."

"I get it," He sighs. "But don't worry about it, I'm here to help you out."

And Chan isn't someone who breaks his promises, so the following hours are spent listening to your music, carefully reading everything you've written so far, listening to your ideas and giving you advice.

In between work, he tells you every other joke to make you laugh and feel at least a bit less stressed; and it works wonderfully since he has a long list of dad jokes that take you off guard, plus his laughter is contagious, so not laughing with him is impossible.

It's no surprise that his advice and opinions are so accurate to the point of clearing your mind and helping you out of your creative block. Chan has always been hard-working and so good with words that every time you engage him in conversations, you feel more relaxed and less burdened. No matter what situation you had a problem with, Chan would always help you find the best solution for it. Maybe that's why you admire him so much, maybe it was one of the many reasons why you didn't hesitate for a second to go to him and find security in his presence and words... Maybe it was one of the thousands of reasons why you had romantic feelings towards him...

"Is it better now?" His voice takes you out of your thoughts. He's sweetly smiling at you; he probably realized you got lost on the way his lips were moving as he told you his thoughts on the recent draft of your song.

"Yeah, yes, honestly, you've helped me so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You smile and go for a quick hug, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Your fingers sliding between his soft and messy curls and making him fondly smile in the process. "You're my hero. I mean it."

Chan chuckles and can't keep his eyes off you as you type something on your laptop and hum. He recalls the conversation he had last week with Felix, and that ambiguous feeling settling on his chest makes him wonder if, after all, his friend was right. He doesn't remember when was the last time he felt the urge to hold someone in between his arms and dearly appreciate, and he wants to know why he smiles and feels his stomach tickling when he sees you.

Maybe it's because you spend a lot of time with him, a voice inside his head says. But he doesn't feel this way with any other friend.

Maybe it's because you have known him for a long time and you just appreciate him a lot, the voice tries again. Maybe. He finally gives in at the last thought. He'd have to figure it out.

His phone buzzes inside the pocket of his jeans and he takes it, knowing for sure it's a message from Felix.

"Felix is arriving in a few minutes." He murmurs, making you take your eyes off the screen. "He wants to listen to some songs I have, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's your studio, silly." You giggle. "I am almost done with this, so if you're gonna be busy I can go back to m-"

"You can stay, if you want to." He quickly adds. "Plus, he says he wants to see you, you know... He misses you." Chan laughs. He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to stay.

"Okay! Sure, I haven't heard from him in a while, either." You nod and keep making changes on the file you have open.

Just as he said, Felix enters the room just a few minutes later, smiling brightly and immediately running to give you a big hug once he sees you.

Soon, the room was filled with laughter and long conversations to catch up on everything around your lives. Felix tells you about the new pastries he baked last week and that he was waiting for you to come around and bake with him, the new video game Jeongin bought and has been playing with Hyunjin, the new songs Changbin and Jisung have been working on and how Seungmin was learning to play piano, playing songs at night for everyone at the dorm.

"And you know? Chan hyung has gotten better at flirting." He laughs as the latter gives him a threatening glare. "He can't stop saying pickup lines whenever he has the chance."

"Ah, really?" You chortle. "You haven't said one in all the time we've been here."

"Well, we've been working, and I've told you many other jokes... Besides, it's not like I come up with them out of nowhere."

"Yes, you do!" Felix says. "You do that all the time, what are you talking about?"

You glance at Chan, who's currently blushing and at the loss of words. Felix, on the other hand, seems to be happy to see what he just provoked. And he'd definitely enjoy every part of it.

"I want to hear one! C'mooon!" You laugh. "Please?"

Chan rolls his eyes and tries to look confident as he would normally do. He clears his throat and thinks of a good pickup line he hasn't used yet.

"Alright," He says and smiles, he even thinks it's gonna start laughing before even opening his mouth, but the very moment he looks into your eyes, it's like he forgot every single word on his vocabulary. "Uhm, are you, no. Did you-? Wait! I forgot what I was gonna say-"

Felix can't help but burst into laughter, and you only look at him, as if you couldn't believe it. Was he nervous or was it because of the fact that Felix was in the same room? Would it have been any different if he weren't there?

You end up laughing at Felix's loud laughter, as well as seeing Chan blushing up to his ears and hiding his face behind his hands, probably also in an attempt to cover the huge grin he now has.

"Wow, that was an epic failure. And I thought you were the biggest flirt on earth." Felix teases him, to which Chan ends up groaning.

He continues talking about other stuff while Chan stops feeling embarrassed, even though he's not able to look in your eyes for the entire time until you have to go back to work.

You close your laptop and stand up, throwing the now empty cup of coffee on the trash bin. After thanking Chan for his help and promising Felix you'd drop by their dorm soon, you walk out of the studio with a smile and feeling your heart beating fast. There was no way you didn't have feelings for him.

"Oh my god, so I was right!" Felix says a few seconds after you left. Chan's first instinct is to cover his face again. "Look who got nervous so suddenly."

"Stop, I- I don't even want to talk about it." He murmurs, feeling flustered and avoiding Felix's gaze. He types something on his laptop and presses the play button, hoping that this way, his friend would forget about what just happened and could focus solely on the music.

And Felix doesn't talk about it anymore. The next few minutes are set by the music coming out of the speakers; the room filling with Chan's voice, singing the love songs that probably no one else would listen to. Felix seems to be concentrating on the lyrics, but Chan's thoughts are solely about you. As he listens to the songs, he is aware of how his skin bristles every time his hands accidentally touch you, the times when your eyes connect with his and you give him smiles every time it happens, all those times when his heart would race when he hugged you.... It's as if all those songs that professed a love he said he didn't feel, started to make sense.

He feels overwhelmed. Maybe if he was aware of it before, maybe if he listened to his heart instead of his head, this wouldn't be a big revelation to him.

Chan pauses the music, and before Felix can ask what's going on, he speaks up: "Why- why did I do that?"

"Did... what, exactly?" Felix asks, confused.

"The pickup line thing!" He blurts out. "I mean, I do that all the time, right? Why did I just forget how to even talk?"

Felix giggles, "Well, have you considered it's because when you use those pickup lines on us you just do it for laughing? To joke around with us, and with Y/N it's because... I don't know, you have feelings for him and it gets real? Like you're flirting with him."

Makes sense, he thinks. He remains in silence for a moment, processing everything that just happened and finally connecting the dots.

"Wait, you just had your epiphany?" Felix jokes. "It took you too, too long."

"I can barely fall asleep, how was I supposed to know I was falling in love?"

"Fair enough." He says, comprehensive. "Are you telling him?"

"Should I?" Chan's eyes sparkle, but he still feels confused. Should he even try? It's been so long since he last felt this way about someone, and given the circumstances of his life as an idol, he felt more reluctant to take the next step. Even more, considering he had just taken the first one by accepting his feelings a few minutes ago.

"I was right all this time by you being in love," He says. "And I am also sure that it's mutual. I've seen you two for a while, you know? I am surprised you didn't come the realization way earlier than this."

Chan giggles. "Alright, I get it."

"But it's up to you now, I guess. All I know is that you deserve to be happy, and you deserve good things... And Y/N is a great person. You should give yourself an opportunity on love."

Chan feels chills as he hears those words. Tonight's even have been too much for him to process, so he'll think deeply about it later.

"Okay," He nods. "Thanks, Lix. You've been really helpful."

"I know, what would you do without me?" Felix laughs. "Now let's keep listening to the songs, I am loving all of them."

Fortunately, the help Chan gave you really made it possible for you to finish the songs in no time. You are just now walking out of a meeting with your managers and the people in charge of the release of the album to set the final details, and you quickly send a message to Chan to let him know the news.

In the meantime, you drop by your studio to clean up a little and maybe write down some ideas for new songs that have been in your mind for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a knock on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts and then feeling confused. You weren't expecting anyone to come. So you slowly open the door, and a smile spreads across your face the moment you realize it's Chan.

"Oh, hi!" You greet him with a hug, immediately letting him in afterwards. He shyly gets inside, taking a seat on a chair and placing a bag on the small table behind him. "What brings you here? I thought you were still busy with you guys upcoming album."

"It's okay, Changbin is working on his stuff now at the studio, so I took the chance to come here and celebrate with you!" He grins. "Congratulations on making your first self-produced album!"

He starts clapping, making you smile; he truly was the sweetest person you've ever met.

As soon as he read your message he went to the nearby cafeteria and bought your favorite drink and pastries, claiming that it was a special occasion and should be celebrated.

"For all your hard work and the success of this album!" He makes a toast as he raises his cup of tea.

Soon you find yourselves immersed in a long conversation about everything that went into creating this album; from when you had the first idea for the concept, to those sleepless nights when he helped you without hesitation. Chan was definitely an essential part of this whole process, so to be celebrating with him right now felt right. It was how it should be.

"You know," Chan clears his throat as another song starts playing. "These past days I've had this thought in my head, and after talking it out with Felix... I am certain about it. And I want to tell you about it. I know I have to."

You frown, feeling curiosity, especially since his semblance has changed to be a bit more serious. He still has a small smile that gives you some kind of tranquility, but another part of you can't help but feel nervous as he gets a little bit closer.

"Of course, what is it?"

"So, uhm" He starts. "Some weeks ago, when Felix came to the studio and we were talking with you... Well, the reason he came was because he wanted to listen to some love songs I've worked on. And, after listening to all of them I figured out why I didn’t like them. I was sure I wasn't in love. That's why, to me, they all sounded plain and didn’t convey the feeling of love... But then..."

He makes a pause, catching his breath as he feels more and more nervous. He knows for sure his ears and cheeks are red right now, and it's impossible that you haven't noticed it. His hands slightly shake behind the table, anxiously looking for yours, but refraining from doing it because he doesn't know how this was going to end. You don't want to interrupt him, so you give him his time to clear his head and talk again.

"While listening to those songs, the only thought I had in mind was you." He finally confesses, with his gaze now fixed on his lap. "I guess that for a while I didn’t realise that I started to, uhm, catch feelings for you. And, it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I just really wanted to let you know because the thought has been on my mind for so long and I needed to let it out."

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is your voice coming from the speakers along with a sigh from Chan, who still didn’t dare to look up and face you.

"So... what you're saying is..." You speak up, feeling incredibly shy, trying to process the words addressed to you.

"What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you."

And you swear you could start screaming to the top of your lungs right now, but you try your very best to stay calm and finally grab Chan's hands. With that, he looks at you again.

"Channie," You softly say, looking at him in his precious eyes and dearly smiling. You don't even know where to begin, but a voice inside you begs for you to give him a hug. So you open your arms and embrace him tightly, feeling instant comfort and love. "I am so glad you feel this way too. I love you too."

Chan sighs in relief, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer; his nose pressed against the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, melting between your arms and enjoying every single second of that gesture.

"Wait a minute," You say out of nowhere, so he separates a bit from you and tilts his head. "That's why you couldn't even say a sentence when you tried to say a pickup line?"

You laugh when his expression changes to look ashamed, his lips frowned in a pout and his gaze avoiding your eyes again.

"Try again, I'm sure you're good at this." And Chan's head only comes up with the dozens of lines he has read, but seeing you smiling right in front of him and your arms over his shoulders, he can only think how lucky he is. He can't possibly say anything to you. "Alright, let me try instead."

You hum and recall all the pickup lines you've read and have been told before, "Hm, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll return it."

And you expected Chan to start laughing out loud, instead he starts blushing again and giggling, covering his face as he feels nervous.

"C'mon! Seriously?" You laugh and wait for him to stop being shy.

"You make me nervous, give me time." He excuses himself and laughs some more. "That was a good one, and you know what? You can borrow all the kisses you want, as long as you keep your word and return them."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!"

Chan fondly smiles at you, placing his hand on your head to pet your hair for a moment. You close your eyes as he does it, feeling his soft touch traveling all the way down to your chin. He rests his thumb on your cheek and after a few seconds you decide to open your eyes.

"Can I?" He murmurs as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips.

"You don't even have to ask."

And just as you give him permission, he breaks the distance between you two. He starts carefully, placing his lips against yours in a tender, chaste way, barely there pressure that makes you exhale through your nose as if you had been holding your breath all along. One of his hands still holds you by the waist, so he takes the opportunity to slide it to your lower back, carefully holding you and sending you shivers to your entire body.

You lean forward barely a few millimeters, but it's enough to feel more pressure over your lips. Chan angles his head and traps your bottom lip, tongue trying to dart out of his mouth to taste more of the sweetness of yours. He, however, contains himself and smiles in between the kiss, instead. He was probably gonna be the death of you.

The deep kiss loses intensity as a minute passes by, so you two end up giving smaller kisses and share smiles, your noses constantly touching in skimo kisses. And you think it's perfect; it's way better than what you one day imagined.

Chan can't miss the chance to make you sit on his lap, so now your head rests over his chest. Your fingers fidgeting the hem of his hoodie and shyly longing to intertwine your hands.

"Hey, Y/N?" He grabs your attention and smiles. "Are you a parking ticket?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because you've got fine written all over you." He ends up with a muffled laughter.

"Oh no, what did I just get myself into?" You joke around, this time finally making him burst into a louder laughter. "You just declared war on me about pickup lines, you know?"

"Oh, so you got some lines, too? Can't wait to hear all of them, then."

And for the rest of the day you let yourself be held in between the arms of the person you loved the most. Later you'd find the way to flirt with him and make him feel flustered when he least expects it.

#kpop x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x m!reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids male reader #bang chan x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

From Eden: Four

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness, grieving, trauma, panic attack; delusion, manipulation, drugging, intimidation.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Well, here’s the next chapter of this creeper story and this one even had me a little shook.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

It’s Sunday now and she’s asleep. At last. She wouldn’t drink the tea so I had to make her. I promised her it was just chamomile to keep her calm, a half-lie. Now she’s sleeping, her soft breaths against my elbow as I sit with her.

She screamed when she found me in the house. Then the panic made it hard for her to breathe and I had to count with her. She couldn’t even remember what came after three so I kept my hand over her mouth until she was woozy and weak. Now the pills will keep her asleep until I’m ready. Until she’s ready. I found the old bottle in her cupboard, if they’re expired, that means they might not last.

I read it all. These pages of her thoughts. She’s so alone, so confused she can’t even see that I only want to take care of her. That she needs me. Her doctor, her caretaker, they can’t really help her. I know it better than anyone.

A diagnosis does nothing, hell, this journal does nothing. The doctors say writing down the mess helps sort it all out. What a bunch of liars. And what can they do for her but keep her in this house all alone and take her inheritance. That’s all they want, to be paid for their empty words.

She doesn’t have to pay me, I will help her.

Monday

She tried to scream when she woke up. I had to cover her mouth again and hold her down in her bed. I hated it, seeing her so afraid. She didn’t stop flailing and the tears trickled down her cheeks and temples in her terror. I hushed her and begged her to be quiet, she did but her round eyes assured me she was still afraid.

I let her sit up as I took away my hand. I never meant to touch her with that one. The metal is so harsh and inhuman, I only want her to feel me.

She mopped her face as I looked through the closet and I found a pretty dress with the same purple colour as the pansies I brought her all those weeks ago.

I gave it to her and told her to get dressed while I called Tisha. I assured her that the girl is okay, she is, she’s safe and she has me. The doctor’s happy to have someone there with her and added that she’s even more happy that she’s warming up to me.

She mentioned it was tough for the girl to trust men. I can’t blame her, I have met too many evil ones too.

Now she’s sitting at the table and eating some pancakes with blueberry syrup. She keeps looking at me and I see her eyes linger on the journal.

I told her I just want to know her and this is the best way. If she won’t talk to me, I need to learn about her another way. The more I read, the more I realise we’re so much alike.

She’s so precious, the way her tongue flicks over her lips to lick up up the sticky syrup. She trembles just a little as she cuts the fluffy pancakes with her forks and stabs them.

This place needs a good cleaning. It’s stuffy and dusty and smells of mildew. It will give me something to do then maybe we can sort out the garden. I didn’t realise picking those tulips would leave such a mess. Well, I could find some sunflowers to replant from the garden center down at the depot. I think she’ll like that.

She’s crying again.

Tuesday

I had to give her more of the pills. After Tisha came by to evaluate her and Lorena dropped off the groceries, I saw how fidgety she was. Her voice shook as she spoke with them and I worked on fixing that shed window once and for all.

The doctor commented on how kind that was but it had to be done. This place really needs to be fixed up. How could such a precious creature live like this for so long? How could she be hidden away from the world when she’s so beautiful? I know why. I see it in her eyes, the same deep cracks I see in my own. She’s been hurt.

When Lorena was finally gone and we were alone, she began to sob and even hit me. She tried to push me away and told me to go. I had to stop her, I had to…

I don’t want to write about what I had to do but I didn’t hurt her. I just made sure she stopped and I got her some more tea. She drank it as she sniffled and I watched her as she set down the mug. It wasn’t long before she slumped and began to snore.

I pulled her down so she’s comfortable across the couch, a pillow under her head with the little throw over her middle. She looks peaceful. While she’s sleeping, I’ll make some dinner and maybe a dessert. She has lots of cookbooks around here. I want her to realise everything I can do for her, that she doesn’t have to do everything alone.

Wednesday

I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t thinking.

She didn’t wake up for dinner so I left it in the stove to keep warm. I ate when my stomach began to grumble and the tart I made wasn’t too bad, just a little dry. I got washed up and came out to check on her again. She was still dead out so I moved her over and sat to feel her breath against my fingers.

I couldn’t help but admire her as she slumbered. I felt her soft lips and had to poke my finger just inside. I felt the stirring and I knew I should go, get dressed and come back to take her to bed. She could have her dinner tomorrow.

But I didn’t.

It was so fast. It hurt how hard I suddenly was as I let my hand wander along her throat and down her chest. I peeked under her shirt, she’s very womanly, so soft and warm. I did stop…

For a couple minutes. I don’t know. It felt so weird. Like I wasn’t me, like it wasn’t my body. It felt like those days when my mind wasn’t my own and I just watched from the side as horrible things happened. As I did those things.

My hand was between her legs before I realised it. I rubbed her warm cunt, I couldn’t get enough of it. It was so soft, so wet, so welcoming. I rubbed and rubbed until I heard her low breaths hitch.

She didn’t wake, the pills heavy on her eyelids still. I pulled open my towel and pulled her hand against my cock. She touched me too, I helped her as she slept. I moved her hand as my own continued to explore her. Her body twitched and she came as hre bud throbbed beneath my fingertips.

I came too and watched the ropes drip down her hand. I kept her hand around me, moving it until I was so oversensitive and tender that I gasped. Her hand was slick with me and the sight of her glistening palm is intoxicating. My cum is still there on her hand.

She’s on the couch still. I don’t know what will happen if I move her to the bed. I’m afraid to find out… but excited too.

Thursday

Today was a good day!

I took her out to the garden to see the flowers I ordered. I still can’t leave her, she’s not ready. I helped her plant them and her hand kept touching mine. She would flinch but I saw the way she pressed her fingertips to her palm after as if basking in it.

When we finished, she even made lunch. We sat and ate, quietly, but I don’t mind. I’m not very talkative either and I understand, a lot has changed in a life that hasn’t changed for a very long time.

As she finished her soup, dipping the crusts of her sandwich into the tomato broth, I went to the living room and looked at the old victrola. I knelt to examine the records and I knew many of them to my delight. This place reminds me of a lot of things, as if I’ve found everything that I lost.

She came and watched me from the door. When she’s nervous, she moves around a lot and she teetered on her feet as she clasped her hands. I smiled at her, I wanted her to smile back but she just blinked.

“What’s your favourite?” I asked, “you have Garland? Sinatra? Armstrong?”

“I like them all,” her voice was so thin I barely heard it.

I took out a Louis Armstrong vinyl and dropped the needle. She shied away as I went to her but that’s how the girls always were at the dance hall. I took her hand and she didn’t resist further. I drew her to me and led her as her untrained feet tried not to stomp on mine. For a moment, I was back there again, before the war, before the uniform, before the train.

It was just me and my gal!

Friday

Last night, I gave her more pills. I caught her in the garden just after dinner. I was washing up and she snuck out like a naughty child. She was by the gate when I came out, peering out into the street. The new lock was still in place, the one she doesn’t have the key to.

She began to cry as I told her to come back in. She said she wanted to leave if I wouldn’t. I told her she was being dramatic and she needed her tea. She said she’s afraid of me. Afraid? What have I done but taken care of her when her doctor and caretaker can only be bothered when they ‘have time’.

She calmed down and drank her tea and had some of the tart. She liked it a lot and I said I’d get more strawberries, she didn’t need to send Lorena this time. She’s in bed now, still asleep.

Later

I thought I heard her so I went to check on her. She had kicked off her blankets, she must have been hot. So I pulled out a night gown from her dresser and took off her jeans and her shirt. It took me a moment to process her nakedness and I got that same tingle from nights ago.

I couldn’t help but touch her just a little. She was wet again, as if she was expecting it. So long together and I can’t blame her for wanting me but I know she’s too shy to say it. When she’s awake, she just gets in her own way.

I’m not going to make excuses. I lost control. I touched myself too and before I knew it I was on top of her. She was still only in her bra and panties and her tits fell out as I shook the bed.

My hand is hardly enough but I didn’t want to rush this. I played with her chest just a little, her nipples went hard and I had to taste them.

When I was ready to explode, I stayed bent over her and pulled down her panties. I came on her but I didn’t enter her. Not yet, as much as it hurts, it’s not time yet. I left her covered in my cum and pulled her panties back up. I took off her bra and dressed her in the night gown.

Now I’m just winding down and I’ll sleep too soon. I’ll hold her and think about my cum still in her panties. Maybe I’ll do a little more, use her hand a little to release a little more tension. It’s so hard being so close but I have to take it slow. For her.

Saturday

I kissed her good morning and today she didn’t pull away. She didn’t do much until I told her to get up. When she did, she didn’t even try to cover herself as her night gown had ridden up in her sleep.

And I saw the way she stared at my body, my boxers all I had on. When she realised I caught her, she quickly looked away.

She also didn’t know I noticed how she tugged on her panties and shifted on her legs awkwardly. No doubt she could feel me still but she wouldn’t know why.

She’s in the shower now and I’m waiting for the coffee to brew. I can hear the patter of water and I wanted badly to join her and help her scrub her body, admire it beneath the trickle as it explores every crevice I long to.

I know I can’t and just thinking of it is making it hard to sit still. I thought playing with her hand last night would keep me happy for a little longer. That it would help my thoughts and my patience but now I want to do everything and more. And I want her to know it this time. To feel it.

No. Not yet. But I can still make her smile. When she comes out I’ll give her her new journal, with pages not about to fall away from the spine and unstained by errant drops of tea. I can’t wait to see her surprise!

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #captain america #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #from eden #mcu #marvel

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airashisakura · 3 years ago

Text

My last entry for @ssskmonth | Prompts used Festivals and Family

Kin

Summary: When Sasuke struggles with letting go of pain from his past, Sakura and Sarada remind him that he doesn't have to do this alone.

Rating: Mature

“Anata?”

Sasuke stopped dusting off the shelves and looked over in Sakura’s direction. He frowned though, seeing Sakura perched on a stool dangerously, trying to clean the cobwebs of their apartment.

“I was asking…” Sakura scrunched her face in displeasure. She hadn't realized when she had left with Sasuke on his journey that it could bring this much work.

A week ago, when they unlocked the door of their apartment, back after a year with their three-month-old daughter, they had realized making their home habitable again wasn't going to be easy. The exhaustion of their journey back to Konoha hadn’t left their souls, but the Uchiha couple prioritized cleaning over resting.

Sasuke walked over to her and steadied her wobbling stool.

“What?”

Sleep deprivation had left him cranky. He had hoped that Sarada's wailing would cease after they had moved from roads to Konoha. Although he was glad that she was more safe under a roof, it hadn’t stopped her from crying the whole night.

Sakura caught the irritation laced in his voice, and considered whether she should say what she was about to.

“Obon is in two days..." She spoke cautiously, busy with her work. "I was asking if you want to…” She trailed off again, not sure how to phrase this.

“Obon?” Sasuke looked up in her direction. He was about to ask her again, when he realized. “Obon.”

Sakura turned, facing him, and asked nervously, “Should we?”

In all these years, he had never celebrated Obon. When he was a child, he remembered his mother strictly following rituals, preparing to welcome the spirits of their clan's ancestors.

He realized that although he always carried his long gone family in his heart, he never had given any damn about the festival.

“Aah,” he agreed.

Sakura's face lit up with a wide grin, but that died off when they heard Sarada crying at the top of her lungs.

While Sasuke rushed to attend Sarada, Sakura wrestled with more dust and ended up coughing.

Although Sarada’s shrill cries bore holes in his eardrum, all the chaos of his new-formed family had settled down all the internal chaos that he had carried for years.

Sasuke stirred out of his slumber engulfed with warmth . Sakura's body was pressed against his back, her arm snuggly thrown around him. Sarada had been quiet after days, and he felt fully rested, refreshed after a sleep devoid of nightmares too.

The light filtering from the curtain told him it was still early, and Sakura's breaths on his neck made him want to wake her up and kiss her numb. He had lost count of the number of days he had felt her bare skin on his, slowly and passionately driving her crazy. The days and nights after Sarada’s birth went by changing diapers and trying to understand the meaning between different kinds of cries, which he hadn't quite mastered yet.

Sasuke was tempted even further when Sakura pressed her lips on his neck and murmured 'morning,' her pert nipples brushing against his muscular back. Sasuke suppressed a gasp, his twitching member, and the urge to reciprocate his wife's desire. He gently pried away from his wife's leg, and regretted it when Sakura retracted herself from him.

"Anata?" Sakura sat up with a myriad of emotions on her face — confusion, hurt and rejection.

Sasuke didn't want to make her feel like that.

"I… I'm going to visit my parents' grave."

Sakura nodded and smiled, her features relaxing.

Sasuke never thought that gulping down the guilt of neglecting his dead family could be that easy.

Sasuke sauntered through the path that led to his parents' grave. The place was cold and distant like his heart had been for many years. Neglected even, he mused.

He stopped when he found the stone that bore his parents' name. Uchiha Mikoto and Uchiha Fugaku — names engraved with such beauty that was ironic considering the way they had died. A surge of rage and emotions pumped through his veins in a way that he was too familiar with — it had made him a person of sins that he was still redeeming for.

He stood there unable to repress the painful memories that had seeped from his past like a poison. His surroundings reverberated with the screams and blood that painted his nightmares.

Years of redemption had seemingly healed his wounds, but the sharpness of the past always cut, and the wounds bleed as they always had.

Unable to anchor himself, he looked anywhere but his parents' name. His eyes darted across the ungrazed grass, wild flowers, and puddles formed by summer rain. Stubborn weeds creeping over his parents grave, like the past that was attached to him.

His eyes caught something. And there it is, he mused again. A small pink wildflower intertwined with weeds, facing the sun. A gentle breeze that made its petals gleam in the sunlight reminded him of Sakura's unwavering love. The love that had waited for him through his sins and redemption — love that assured him every day that he no longer was in the darkness alone — love that gave him Sarada.

He crouched down, sighing. The summer heat was getting unbearable, and beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead. This reminded he should get going. Sometimes Sarada got all fussy, and it was hard for Sakura to manage her alone. Although his heart was heavy when his eyes glided over the name of his parents again, he smiled thinking about his new family.

Sasuke traced his finger on kanji of his mother's name, dirt gathering on his finger tip. He picked up the rag that he had brought with him and scrubbed the dirt and mud from the stones. With every swipe of the rag, the images of lifeless bodies of his parents became clearer in his mind. His fingers twitched, but he did his work diligently. The dirt from his parents' name was gone now, like the blood from the wooden floor that had pooled out from his parents' bodies.

Shaking his thoughts off, he held his shirt sleeve with his teeth and rolled it upwards. He went on plucking the weeds, wishing if it was this easy to pluck away memories of his past. There was a hopeful part of him — a little part — thought that with time, the pain of his lost family would wash away, but maybe hope wasn't a thing for Uchiha Sasuke.

He bid adieu to his dead parents, and got up to leave. As he walked away, he looked back over his shoulder to get a peek of the pink flower that remained. The pink flower that had grown in his life — accepting him and his past.

As he reached the threshold of his house, he stiffened when he couldn’t feel the familiar chakras he was accustomed to.

He looked around and found Sakura had almost finished cleaning their house. Bookshelves no longer had cobwebs, the white sheets had been removed from the furniture, and the floor was polished.

“Sakura?”

He was answered by the empty hallways and a note. It was a note from Sakura that said she was going out for grocery shopping.

He ran fingers through his hair, sighing, and walked towards the kitchen. He decided to cook a proper lunch. They had been surviving on simple food after they had returned, courtesy of Sarada's fussiness. It amazed him sometimes how their child managed to command all their attention.

Sakura always jokingly complained that it was something Sarada definitely had inherited from him. Sakura boasted that she was a quiet infant, and her parents always backed her up. Sometimes he felt a tinge of jealousy at that.

He opened the fridge and grabbed the leftover rations that they had, and he remembered Naruto grumbling about something similar. He knew he shouldn't find that soothing, but he realized in that aspect he wasn't alone.

In fact, he wasn't alone at all anymore.

Sasuke delved into cooking, but as time ticked on, he got impatient. He decided to go out and look for them. Something made him scared that he couldn't pinpoint.

As he was going to turn the stove off, he heard the click of the door knob. He heard Sakura calling him and responded.

Relief washed through him as Sakura approached him. He had been worrying over nothing. Perhaps his heart was still as fragile as his younger self's. Too afraid to lose, yet too afraid to accept his weakness.

Sakura kept the bag of groceries, grinning widely at him before she complimented the smell of the food. He was captivated by her green eyes, but his daughter seemed to have his attention now. Sarada happily clapped her hands on seeing him and wiggled in her baby sling to reach for him.

Sasuke bent down, and Sarada reached for his cheeks and patted them with her small hands, grinning toothlessly. This was Sarada's way to embrace, Sakura had told him once. Sasuke kissed her little palm before straightening himself.

"When did you return? We were sort of feeling alone, so we decided to make a quick trip to the market. "Ne, Sarada-chan?" Sakura cooed, rubbing her nose on Sarada's head, and Sarada giggled, agreeing with her.

"But someone had more fun than she expected." Sakura tickled Sarada, and she joined her in fits of laughter.

A smile slipped past his lips, and all the heaviness that had settled in his heart from that morning began to dissipate.

"She seemed to be in a good mood," Sasuke commented, looking for something from the bag.

"Yes." Sakura hummed, sifting her fingers through Sarada's hair.

His eyes lingered on them, before he started grating ginger.

"Umm, Anata? Isn't that too much?" Sakura pointed out.

Sasuke nodded, but he added it to the pan and said, "Father always liked it this way."

Sakura blinked. She didn't know how to respond. Sasuke rarely talked about his parents, so she stood there just nodding.

The space between them stilled, with only sounds of food sizzling on the pan and Sarada's squeals.

"Father used to love the spice of ginger, so Mother used to cook like this," Sasuke explained.

"I see," Sakura replied, excitement spiking in her voice.

"Mother also added less Mirin than required," Sasuke went on, and Sakura listened raptly, watching him while he cooked Gyudon.

Sakura didn't miss the melancholy in his eyes when Sasuke said that Gyudon was his father's favourite, and it stirred Sakura's heart

Sakura knew the things which are gone always hurt, but she knew too it took time to heal them. So when Sasuke told her bits of his family, she was glad that Sasuke talked about them without any resentment — sharing his lost happiness with her. She wanted to thank him, so Sakura tiptoed, her arms wrapping around Sarada, and she pecked on Sasuke's cheek.

It was unexpected, and Sasuke stared wide-eyed at the contents in the pan, while the tips of his ears turned red.

"I'll remember this when I cook next time," Sakura blushed.

Sasuke nodded, smirking.

Sarada wiggled in her sling to reach for Sasuke again while Sakura giggled and commented on how restless she was growing.

The house, the people, and the meal he had once shared together with his parents were long gone for him, but now he saw himself in Sarada who was trying to get her father's attention like he used to. He realized time had its own way to fix things.

Sasuke watched the sky, summer clouds lazily drifting and strings of smoke whirling between them. The smell of smoke from the neighborhood mingled with the evening breeze, and he felt nostalgic.

His clan breathed fire, and where there was fire, there was smoke. He remembered tasting the bitterness of smoke that lingered on his tongue when his lungs had flamed out a great fireball in childhood. He’d been excited to share his experience, and Itachi had confirmed with his too gentle smile that he had felt the same way

It was a memory that had been long forgotten. Years and years of using katon jutsus and chasing his older brother for revenge had made him ignorant to these feelings that he had held precious in his childhood.

The orangish hue of the setting sun told him it was time.

It was the first day of Obon. He looked around and saw the lantern that was tied at the entrance of their house swinging with the wind along with a windchime.

The lantern will guide them home, Sakura had said when she had tied them.

He knew that too. His mother had told him during childhood while Itachi had set up the bonfire for mukaebi. He had complained that bonfires are for winters, not for summers. His mother had laughed and had corrected him.

Sasuke, this bonfire and lanterns are for the spirits of our ancestors to guide their paths back home.

He had shrugged back then, because he thought he wouldn't have to bother about this in future.

Sasuke set the twigs, and lit them using a small fireball jutsu.

He sat there, remembering that Obon during his childhood had never been so solemn. Lots of people visited during that time. He hadn’t remembered any of them, though Itachi remembered some of them. Sasuke had challenged Itachi: Just you see, nii-san, next time, I'm going to remember everyone's name. Itachi had chuckled and had flicked his forehead.

The next time hadn't ever come. Before he could add more people to his growing list of people he knew, Itachi had wiped out everyone. And then Sasuke was alone.

He realized after all these years how much he had missed his older brother. He always wanted to bury the feeling because it came with the realization that Itachi was dead because of him. Itachi was dead because of Konoha.

Itachi was dead because he wanted his otouto to live.

"Anata?"

Sasuke lifted his eyes from the flames to Sakura, who looked worried. He looked back to flames.

"Are you okay?"

Sasuke nodded. He knew they had spent enough time together for Sakura to know he wasn't alright. His eyes were fixated on flames, so he didn't notice the way Sakura's eyes softened when she sat beside him.

He didn't want to ask her, but he found himself talking anyway. "Do you think Itachi can find his way?"

For the second time in the day, Sakura blinked in confusion.

Sasuke clarified again, "He doesn't even have a grave."

For a second, Sakura felt like she couldn't breathe. She had never seen Sasuke so vulnerable before.

"This place… Konoha…" He gritted his teeth. "I- I don't know how to call Konoha my home after what they did to my clan… to Itachi."

"I can't," He said, his voice louder and filled with accusation.

But as soon as these two words left his mouth, his eyes widened in the realization of what he had done. He shut his eyes and apologized to Sakura.

He felt Sakura's palm on his left cheek. It reminded him of his daughter's gentle touch — that they were his home.

Sakura smiled when his mismatched eyes met her green, and spoke softly, "Hate it till you can love it back, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke swallowed the soft moan that fell out of Sakura's plump lips before he moved down on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. When their house turned silent from Sarada's cries, they both sought comfort in their bed, limbs tangled innocently. Sasuke was comfortable enough now to delve into his wife's gentle touches. Gentle touches soon turned greedy when he kissed her the way he had wanted to that morning. It wasn't too long before their clothes were scattered across the polished wood of the floor.

He nipped her neck, eliciting a whimper and a delicious clench of her walls around his pulsing cock. He groaned and pushed deeper into her wet velvety cunt. The air from the ceiling fan cooled their sweating bodies, but the heat where they were intimately joined made both their spines tingle.

Sasuke leaned down to capture her lips again, and Sakura reciprocated wantonly meeting with his thrust. They gasped for air when they parted, saliva smeared across the corners of their lips. Sasuke held his gaze with hers, which was always soft, assuring, and accepting. Like a wanderer on a cold night regarded the flames that kept him warm, Sasuke tried to emanate his gratitude for her through his mismatched eyes.

He inched deeper, relishing the warmth of her skin. Sakura's lips parted in a silent cry when he hit the spot that he knew made Sakura come undone. Their rhythm became more erratic, and the heaving and slapping of wet skin was driving Sasuke to his own finish.

Sasuke angled his hips and thrust roughly. Sakura shuddered, her nails digging deep in his bare shoulder. He closed his eyes, focussing on the pleasure unknoting in his belly, he pushed roughly again, and felt—

Sarada's whimpers reached their ears. His eyes snapped open reflexively like he was waking in the midst of a nightmare, and Sakura's grip loosened on him. Sakura winced as he reluctantly pulled out of her. He wasn't sure if it was because Sarada's cries intensified, or if it was because they’d been interrupted.

She smiled weakly and slid out of bed. Sasuke huffed and dropped onto the bed, watching Sakura hurriedly putting his shirt to cover her curves.

When he made his way towards them, Sakura was pacing along the room, cradling Sarada in her arms trying to calm her down.

"I fed her, changed her diapers, and still she is crying," Sakura said, expression etched with worry and irritation. Sarada shrieked louder, and Sakura's patience was waning thin.

Sasuke stretched his arm towards her, and Sakura handed the baby over. When he took her in his arm, rocked her and carefully nuzzled his nose on her forehead, she stopped crying. Somehow, it felt strange yet so good that someone needed him.

He was sure Sakura was red with envy and embarrassment when she mumbled something and walked away. He couldn't help himself but let out a chuckle, and Sakura turned and laughed too.

Konoha's streets were overflowing with families, people enjoying and dancing around the yagura stage to the beats of Taiko drums on the second day of Obon.

"Ino and I always loved dancing to this rhythm."

Sasuke didn't remember anything from his genin days. Maybe Sakura had told him back then, but he never paid attention to it like the other things he had missed while chasing blindly after revenge. This festival, this tradition, and Sakura were always there, and he had always been a piece out of the puzzle.

But Sarada with all her charm had made him fit in the puzzle. And now he and Sakura sat on the engawa, basking in the comfortable silence that they shared while the sound of Taiko drums reverberated with his heart beats.

Sakura held Sarada close to her body. He smiled, eyes falling on the Uchiha fan on her little back.

"I sprained my ankle the previous year. It was all stupid Ino's fault."

Sakura went on telling him about her Obon experiences while his eyes lingered on the swell of her chest, the bindings tugged down for Sarada to suckle. Sarada fed herself without any complaints, her little fingers clutching on folds of the beautiful green yukata Sakura was wearing.

The beautiful cherry blossom print on her green yukata accentuated her beauty, but it was the Uchiha crest that she sewed on her yukata in the afternoon that accentuated her beauty.

Sasuke's eyes trailed upwards to her exposed skin, and he noticed the hitch in her breath when his eyes stayed on the purplish mark he had given her the night before. They locked eyes, trapping her green with his mismatched ones.

Sakura blushed furiously under his gaze. Sasuke smirked and asked, "Want to go to the festival?"

The sound of heavy breathing disturbed the silence, as both of them came down from their high, basking in the afterglow. A sheen of sweat covered them like velvet, limbs entangled and limp. Sakura's yukata lay crumpled between their bodies, tugged upwards and sideways unceremoniously.

Sasuke had committed to memory the way her pink hair seamlessly smudged with the green of her yukata when he had pushed inside her from behind, losing himself to pleasure. His fingers lightly traced her pink nipples, and Sakura gasped.

She turned her head back, and Sasuke pulled her closer to his body, his palm now resting over her beating heart. Sakura smiled, and Sasuke realized there were so many colours that adorned his life now — the red of her lips, the pink of her hair, the green of her eyes, and that mirthful smile.

His heart skipped a beat when he felt Sakura's heart dancing under his palm, synchronising with his. Their lips found their way to each other, the uchiwa on the Sakura's garment silently observing their love.

A wisp of smoke rose into the air while twigs in the bonfire crumbled down to ashes. Sasuke sat in front of the extinguished bonfire, looking above at the dark sky.

The moon hid behind the clouds and stars twinkled, trying hard to compensate for the overcast skies. A breeze touching his skin gave him a familiar feeling. He had spent more time under open skies wandering than under a roof with a family. However, tonight he felt the same heaviness that he had carried for a long time.

After they had dinner, Sakura had reminded him that it was the last day of Obon. Reluctantly, he had lit the okokuri-bi — the bonfire that sent the spirits back to their resting place. Maybe he didn't want to part with his dead family. Maybe holding on to the illusion where his father, mother and brother were with him was easier.

The breeze swept the hair that covered his eyes, his mismatched orbs growing wet. It wasn’t because of anger anymore, though. It just hurt. He clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his shirt, trying to soothe the pain that was there. An invisible pain that he only owned — that Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace.

"Sara-chan, did you like it?"

Sasuke snapped out of his thoughts as Sakura approached him. Sarada fiddled with a toy that Sakura bought recently for her. Sarada cooed in excitement, and Sakura giggled.

When she reached closer to him, Sakura stretched out her hand towards him. Words were not their way, and Sakura smiled gently, coaxing him to take her hand.

And Sasuke did.

Because there were things Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace, but he could relive and recreate memories with them. Severing bonds would never ease his pain, he knew now; instead, new bonds would help him embrace the old ones.

They were there for him — he wasn't alone, and he didn't need to do this on his own.

FFN | AO3

Obon is a Japanese custom to honor the spirits of one's ancestors. This custom involves a family reunion holiday during which people return to ancestral family places and visit and clean their ancestors' graves when the spirits of ancestors are supposed to revisit the household altars. It has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years and traditionally includes a dance, known as Bon Odori.

Credits: Inspired from Warm by @catflorist . For those who haven't read, please read this wonderful piece.

Thanks to @fm-white for telling me more about rituals of Obon.

Thanks for @fictionalquacker's headcanon that Fugaku loves beef, which helped me making an assumption that it could be Gyudon. Also thanks to lovely @birkastan2018 for giving some tips about cooking Gyudon 💪. A big thanks to @theredconversegirl for naming my fic 🥺. Believe me, I would be forever grateful to you for this❤️

Thanks to @something-like-air for beta-ing this. 🤗

Last but not the least, @thatsakurastan :") with her constant support and nagging, I was able to complete and post this fic. You deserve big slabs of chocolate!🍫🍫🍫

#ssm21 #ssm21d2 #ssm21d9 #ssmonth #sasusaku #ss fic #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uchiha sarada #SS month finally done and dusted 😌

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avenirdelight · 3 years ago

Text

Clearances

John Stones

John talks to his wife’s baby bump and feels the baby kick for the first time.

"John... John? John! JOHN!"

The panicked voice alarmed John. He quickly turned off the stove and dropped the spatula he was holding to run to the living room where the voice came from.

"What?! What happened?!"

She was still on the couch where he left her an hour ago to make dinner. She was holding her tummy; her shirt was up to her chest so her 5 months pregnant belly was fully exposed.

"He kicked again!" She looked up, and her widened eyes followed John who was approaching her at a lightning speed.

"Really?" John dropped himself in front of her on the floor. Her manly hands gently made contact with her belly, rubbing it so tenderly, hoping that his baby boy could feel his presence.

"Hey, little guy. Dadda is here," John said so softly. He stared expectantly at her baby bump. Her hands went to fix his messy curls that were covering his eyes, giggling a little bit because she actually could smell some spices coming off him.

"Did you do something before he kicked?" John glanced at her after waiting for a good ten seconds, but he didn't get the reaction that he was hoping for.

"No, I didn't. Just try to keep talking?"

John nodded and took a deep breath. "Hey, dadda is cooking something very delicious for you. Well, mummy likes it very much, it's the third time she asks me to cook it for her this week. Is it your favourite too?"

She put her hands on top of John's. She was as expectant as him. Their baby had kicked for the first time a couple of days ago but John had been away for a match. She'd told him about it over the phone and he'd been very ecstatic just from listening to her telling about how it happened and how it felt. She didn't record a video because it happened so fast; she was too surprised and immediately became a crying mess after that, overwhelmed by waves of emotions. So she'd hoped that John would be home when it happens again.

"It was too salty, wasn't it, the first time I made it? I put too much salt in it," John continued. "But I think I have mastered the recipe now. Well, I—"

John was cut off by a slight movement under his hands. The movement was small and short, John wasn't sure if the little guy really moved.

But then the baby kicked again multiple times. It was strong and John gasped when he saw her belly move.

"Oh my God... Oh my God!" John screamed in a whisper. His eyes and his smile both got so wide, as he felt the most ridiculous butterfly in his stomach. His hands stayed still on her belly, almost trembling because the movement felt incredible against them.

"Well, hello! Oooh, you're a strong lad!" The baby kicked one last time and it was definitely the strongest one. "Are you practicing your finishing? That's a good shot, right there!"

"I think he's making clearances, babe. He's been watching his dadda, you know."

John looked up at her and they started to giggle as the giddiness started to take over. It still felt like a new feeling to her and she was glad that John finally had his first experience. John couldn't even describe the feeling. All he could think about was how blessed he was that the love of his life carried his baby. Even the idea that he was going to be a father, that there was going to be a mini John Stones, still felt unreal sometimes.

"Oh... You're incredible. I can't wait to bring you to the pitch." John rubbed her belly so gently again before pampering her belly with soft kisses that made her giggle even more. He stood on his knees to reach her face with both of his hands, leaning in quickly to put a kiss on her lips.

"We're really going to be parents, aren't we?"

She nodded. "Yeah... And I think we're really going to be really good at it."

The smile on John's face grew again and she mirrored it. She wished their baby would have John's eyes and John wished he would have her smile. They would have to wait for a couple more months, but they knew it would be the best moment in their lives when they finally held him in their arms.

—

john sitting on the floor while she ruffles his hair again? mmm yes maybe i love that particular image in my head.

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #john stones imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #john stones one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #footballer fic #football fic #imagine #one shots #fanfiction #england nt #man city

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

Text

Hot Chocolate (Birthday/Christmas Special)

Summary: Levi is bound to spend this birthday on his own, seeing that you're halfway across the globe as an exchange uni student. What he doesn't know though is that you have planned a huge surprise for him. NSFW 18+

Notes: sorry for any mistake you guyss please enjoy this

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: f l uff, nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, the sexies

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, I simply found it on Pinterest.

White heavy cream fell fluidly out of the carton it was stored, squeezed by Levi's calloused hand and into the small metallic pot that he rested his other hand onto. The mixture, an aromatic, dark brown hot chocolate, lightened in color upon a few stirs of his tool. Slowly with his hand he disposed of the empty carton in the recycling bin, making sure to wipe any stray droplet of white on the counter.

He blinked as his mind went blank, forgetting the next step of the recipe but only momentarily. His thoughts once again traveled to what troubled him, but he continued with his stirring in fear of burning the beverage he was set on making. With his teeth sinking dangerously at the tip of his tongue what he needed clicked in his head. Corn flour. A quorter of a cup.

He didn't bother tasting the mixture as he lowered the fire of the stove to the minimum, he simply marched to the corner built in cupboard, hands searching furiously for the porcelain vase that held this oh so precious corn flour that would act as the stabilizing factor to his hot chocolate beverage.

Seconds later he brought the fire to an halt absurdly, never ceasing with his stirring careful as to not have the mixture stick to the pot. He didn't like his chocolate adorned with burnt flakes or the taste they brought to his mouth neither did he like cleaning the burnt pot before having to pop it in the washing machine. As his hands reached for the cups he had set beside the stove beforehand to his alchemy, he helped the thick mixture in with a spoon.

The cups were immediately transfered inside the over; an attempt to keep them from any predatory fly that could have entered the apartment before Levi had a chance to realise and in addition keeping them sheltered as they reached a drinkable temperature. Levi threw the pot into the sink next, sighing to himself as he grabbed his thick latex gloves and out them on his hands. With a twist of his hand at the handle the watered started running on his gloves hands pot making him grab his steel wool.

His hand came to his forehead, wiping some sweat as he sighed again, hanging his head low as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes squinted in anger, his hands dug into the inox of his sink and his heart sink dangerously low as he felt the room run cold due to the sun quickly setting behind the horizon.

Why had he made that chocolate, it beat him. The two of you hadn't spoken in at least two days and he liked -or rather chose- to blame it on your busy studying schedule, rather than the fight the two of you had over that call two nights ago. He had been to angry to admit he was acting like a brat to you, he had been too proud to simply say that he wanted your attention, instead he had resolved his anger into grumpiness, causing your overworked mind to snap.

You were gone as an exchange student in Japan for too long and both your busy schedules and the enormous time difference had dug their ways into Levi's life very negatively. Before you he had never lonely when he was alone, but now, now that he had gotten a taste of what it was to be with you, now that you had been ripped away from him from so long, he definitely felt lonely. And angry. And it killed him that he was almost on time for your arranged video chat, when you didn't even show any sign of being in existence still.

It made his boil though, by now, it must have been the 26th in Japan and you had spent your day ignoring him, not even bothering to open his message. Had he been so cruel to you while admitting he wanted you here with him? Was it that you didn't have enough decency to let him you know you were alright? That was what he simply wanted to know, in the end.

Sighing again he ripped the gloves off his hands and grabbed his phone. His fingertip touching the button provided him immediate access to his homescreen and he quickly entered Instagram dragging the homepage down a couple of times to let it load any new activity. Internally he knew, he would have been glad if he was to see a story or a post by you, any sign that you were alright would do for him.

Of course, as if on cue to shake him of his miserable thoughts his phone rang, buzzing in his palm. His eyes fell on the small window the revealed the caller id to him. It was Erwin, naturally, as he always used to shower him with phone calls on his birthday even up until the moment he was at his front door. Levi didn't missed out on those signs of affection, it's was quite the opposite really. He cherished them deeply. Seeing how much of an impact he had on his friends' lives moved him whether he showed it or not.

And so, while holding back his saddened sigh he picked up the phone, greeting his friend through greeted teeth.

"Hey Levi, uhm, I kind of need you at the moment, am I interrupting anything?"

"No," Levi spoke, biting painfully on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold himself back from sprinting out on his frustration. Of course Erwin could try and hide behind his finger, Levi knew that much. The blond was aware he wasn't interrupting anything, but he was still kind enough to ask; he always was sappily kind when it came to such sensitive subjects.

"Great look, I'm on route twenty two, fifth exit, I'm out of gas can you please come to my rescue and bring me some?" Erwin paused for a moment and then proceeded to mumble through an overly amused breath "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you tonight."

"Did you take your father's run down car again?" Levi questioned.

"No... yes. I'm sorry Levi I felt like I wanted to drive his car tonight. I shouldn't have to drag you here too, I'm sorry."

"No it's fine," Levi bit back, hissing at Erwin's unhealthy habit of wanting to drive his father's antique due to its sentimental worth. But then again, he reminded himself he wasn't in a place to judge. "Give me 15 and I'll be there."

Fidgeting his fingers on the counter without throwing a second look he came in contact with his car keys. The familiar jiggling sound gritted through the air proudly as Levi pierced his finger inside the key loop, finally pressing the keys steady to his palm. With another grunt, he hang up the phone, bringing the device to the palm of his hand once again.

His mind begged him to open his texts with you again -his initial goal ever since the moment he opened his phone- just to stare at the screen or at his unopened text, his insides begged to boil with concern at the process but he figured had all night to do so, prolonging his misery could definitely wait now that Erwin was in need. And thus he simply marched to the hanger behind his front door, eager much to quickly get a hold of his warmest jacket before having to step out in the cold apartment corridor and consequentially outside in the cold December weather.

___

You forced Hange to suppress her giggles as you slipped the metallic key inside the lock to your shared apartment with Levi. With an exaggerated jump though Hange let out another scream fill the air, ignoring yet another playful rasped gaze you consequentially threw her. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as you kept on locking eyes, amused by the upcoming execution of your plan.

The plan was simple really. You had Erwin call Levi for any emergency he could come up with and only when he left the house you and Hange would sneak in, light up the aromatic candles you spent weeks picking. You would make some hot buttered rum and light the fireplace to warm up the house. Then, Hange would leave right when Erwin would call you to announce that Levi was on his way back and you'd wait for him with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay now let's see how much time we have." You said and rubbed your hands together to warm them up. Leaning with one hand over the wall you moved the heel of your left foot on top of your right one, pressing down enough so you could wiggle your foot out of the shoe. Doing the same for your other foot, you removed your jacket and hung it behind the door.

"Erwin said it will take Levi about twenty minutes to get to him, they shall spend about ten to fifteen minutes fueling his car, but he promised he'd try his best to delay Levi if we need to. And then add another ten minutes for him to get back." Hange spoke, fixing her glasses onto her nose.

"You think I have enough time to take a bath?"

Making sure to slip her shoes off after you, Hange nodded in your direction and proceeded to set her heavy backpack on the couch. One by one she took the candles and a lighter out, eventually smirking to herself as she tried to come up with a plan on how to neatly set them around the living room.

"Hange!" Can you put those in the bedroom?" You spoke, ripping your shirt off of you before your finger came to graze the side of your mouth as your mind sunk in your thoughts.

"Ha!" Hange huffed "as if you're even going to make it to the bedroom!"

Your cheeks burned as she spoke, eyes widening slightly at how your mind told you she was completely right. Of course you and Levi wouldn't make it to the bedroom at least until later tonight. It had been months since you had last seen him and it was his birthday, you wouldn't even be able to rip yourself off of his arms. Thus you simply threw a mellow smile at Hange as you sprint to the kitchen checking to see if you had all the ingredients you'd need to make your choice of drink.

Coincidentally, you opened the oven and your eyes immediately fell on what was inside. Your expression softened as two grey toned cups shone in your orbs, the smell they emitted deliciously filling your nostrils. You smiled to your self as you thought about how your lover didn't miss out on making your traditional Christmas drink.

It was unbelievable how kind hearted Levi was, in contrary to what people thought of him, you thought. Most of the times -and simply because he didn't allow otherwise- the only thing people who weren't close to him saw was a cold demeanor, a sharp tongue and a foul mouth. It all would be too ironic if they knew how Levi was behind closed doors. Taking notice of small everyday details, sticking to his beloved routine, cherishing moments with his loved ones, remembering everything most people would ignore about others and showing his love in the sweetest yet most Levi way were only a few of his virtues.

Of course he wouldn't miss on making your favorite strawberry scented thick hot chocolate, even if you had spent the last few days not speaking to him, even if as of now he remained ignorant as to why. You assumed he believe it was about that ridiculous fight and you could admit you purposefully riled him just enough for him not to expect to see you. You were sure, seeing he had shown a previous liking in surprises like this, that his jaw would hit the floor when he'd see you.

Guilt rushed through you at the thought of you making him feel miserable even in the slightest, but Hange couldn't just have you standing there, sulking in your anxiety over how things had led up to this moment. If you wanted to make it in time for when Levi came home you'd have to rush. Hange insisted on shooing you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, urging you to act fast, before Levi came. Sensing she was right, you settled for running to retrieve a new pair of underwear and a clean towel before jumping in the shower.

Stretching your arms to close the curtain behind you as you stepped on the white marble tiles you twisted the faucet handle to the right, letting a deep sigh escape from the depths of your chest as the hot water started running.

___

The sound of keys jiggling together filled what should have been an empty apartment, making Levi's arrival known only to you who stood inside the kitchen. He stepped inside a few seconds later, ripping his shoes off of his feet before slipping into his fuzzy slippers.

His hands immediately reached for the wipes and rubbing alcohol he kept on a stand right next to the door, silently grabbing a wipe and coating it in the strong smelling disinfectant before bringing it to his phone and keys. He spent a good minute cleaning the items meticulously only stopping when he felt satisfied to set them on the stand. He took a step to turn around with his goal to walk to the kitchen and heat up his got chocolate. Judging by the time he could still try to reach out to you before the day ended.

With a quick glance around the room, though he found himself freezing in his spot.

"Great, now I'm so shit mad I'm seeing fucking things." Levi announced -seemingly only to his own self- the moment he laid his gray orbs upon you.

"No Levi, you're not seeing things baby."

Standing up for your seat on the kitchen table you shot him an adorning look; your eyes squinted and your cheeks puffed up, coated in a sheer scarlett color. You silently watched as his eyes grew impossibly wide, flickering between you and each lit candle that showered the room in plenty of romantic golden light.

His legs were slightly trembling, his knees going weak at the sudden need to intake all of what was unraveling before him, but with his heart hammering in his whole body he only managed to part his lips before even beginning to thing if what to utter.

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday my Vee." You smiled again, mouthing the tooth rotting sweet nickname as you walked to him with open arms and a longing look on your face.

He wasted no time, even if his head was starting to buzz in confusion and uncertainty, he bucked in his stand before sprinting towards you. His hands quickly wrapped under your bum, lifting you up on him while prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. With painfully squinted eyes his nose nuzzled up between your neck and your chest, inhaling your magnetising aura sharply as he span you around. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, embracing his head in a loving manner as you couldn't supress your bubbling giggles.

His strong grip on you wasn't ceasing, not even for a moment as he began mouthing his questions; he didn't even care that his voice was muffled by your own form.

"How- I mean when?" He spoke and only hugged you tigher onto him.

"Well, you thought I'd ever miss this day?" You placed a kiss on the top of his hairline. "I was supposed to be here days ago but my flight got delayed, so Erwin and and Hange came up with this surprise plan."

Levi's hands loosened their grip on you slowly was you tried to slide down his body carefully; this breathtaking moment could only ever last for so long, Levi figured as he set you down. Kissing you was the next task he assigned to himself, but it could only happen after he got a good look at your face.

God, he had missed you so much.

So many months had passed since the last time he had been graced with seeing you this close to him and in the moment what he was witnessing almost felt too unreal. Your tender eyes looked into his with adoration and warmth, your chest dwelled with tainted breaths as your hands slowly came to cup his sharp face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't responding at all, I really had to leave to go to the airport after that silly fight we had, I couldn't just tell you I was coming." You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Although I was really temped to."

Levi wrapped his arms around you again and hugged you to his chest- this time he missed on levitating you if the ground, even more fiercely than he had done before. He simply huffed in amusement in the crook of your neck, mouthing a sole 'thank you' against you.

The next kiss you shared was maniac and passionate in nature. His lips didn't just graze over yours, the engulfed them. He sucked onto your tender flesh as if his life depended on it and you couldn't get enough. You found yourself grabbing his shirt, then running your hands through the short spiky hair of his undercut.

His slick hands cupped your own face as he pulled back only to catch his breath for a moment.

"I've missed you much I can't even be patient to talk with you."

"Me too" you announced, a hazed look masking your face.

You took a few leading steps to the couch, careful not to disturb the candles in the corners of the coffee table that before it, much afraid of setting everything on fire in your despairate state to have him. Your mouth launched feverishly onto his as you threw him onto the gray sofa.

Levi didn't fight it, not even for a moment. His tongue shoved inside your mouth, rolling around yours, slurping and cherishing each corner of your mouth as he took small intakes of breath through his nose from time to time. His tender hands loosened their grip on the sides of your face, the action eliciting a small whine from your occupied mouth but to was quickly gulped down by the movement of his lips that came to suck on your tongue.

You felt his fingertips travel down your clothed body, skillfully sinking underneath your shirt before restlessly traveling back up taking the cloth away with them. You only broke away from each other for a singular moment, breaths hitching and tinting the air around you, so much that you could almost ignore the way your heart sped it's throbbing in your ears. His hips bucked longingly int you from underneath, the friction already driving you crazy.

As his hands shoved longingly inside your pants you let another moan slip from the depths of your throat, though it was guickly muffled by your lover's mouth attaching on yours , making you melt into him. You felt his fingers graze ever so slightly over your still clothed crotch, painfully flicking their way through your flesh.

Roughly, he pulled back, detaching his want body away from yours while fixing his gray eyes into you. He didn't bother speaking as he tagged at the sides of his shirt, ripping the article of clothing away from him in such quick movements, as if it was the only thing getting in his way from getting close to you.

With hanger widening his eyes he stared at you again, prompting you to put your hands into him, to feel him all the while he run his hands into your form. He failed in exploring your body as he had wished though, with a shagged breath he only managed to bring you close, in a proximity that didn't even allow a kiss to be exchanged. You simply nuzzled into the crook of his bare neck, rubbing the tip of your nose in calm circles against him as you breathed hot huffs of air onto his skin.

His back was still so muscular and ripped despite his skin being so overly smooth under your tender touch, the more small trails you rubbed over him the more he sighed in greed and over exaggerated longing. Licking his lips with a constipated look on his face, he placed a tender kiss on your collarbone before traveling back up, just to teasingly rub his bottom lip over yours.

Breaking the kiss you grabbed his hand, bringing his palm close you your face. You teasingly picked his pointer finger, making sure to scratch the inside of his hand with your nails as you brought the digit to your mouth. His mouth, running ahead of his own desire to stay quiet, blurted lewd moans at your soft suckling and with all blood boiling in his body he was unable to even think about chocking down on his sounds.

He was on his back before he even knew it. It seemed like squirming was the way to go now, right underneath you as you placed kisses all over his chest and torso. With slow hands you reached for his pants, fidgeting with his zipper and buttons before wiggling your arms inside the dark denim.

Quickly, any remaining article of clothing was discharged thrown anywhere on the floor; you could worry about that later but right now you couldn't seem to be able to pay attention on anything else than each other. You had missed him, he had missed you, there was only so much that the two of you could process momentarily.

It was the high of the moment mixed with your scent that pulled him even even more as you craddled him to your chest while never ceasing the bobbing of your hips. The kisses that he sucked in you, sped up the beating of your heart against his as soft skin mingled with your own. Even that was painful to him, the extend to which he had missed you didn't leave any space for him to pull just an inch away from you, as if he wouldn't ever be able to get enough.

"My Levi, I've missed you so much." You spoke with hitched breaths, lips grazing his earlobe ever so slightly.

Levi allowed him self to eventually grunt in response letting harsh huffs of air through his nostrils while trying to guide your hips to an alt.

"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to last." He spoke, his fingering digging into your thighs to put an halt to your movements.

It didn't work -he should have known it wouldn't work- because you only slid down on him longingly and fast, sending his mind in the familiar pre orgasmic haze he so wished to momentarily be freed from.

"Who said," you paused only for another tainted moan to slip outside your lips "I want you to last?" You placed a kiss on the skin behind his ear, careful not to suck and create any loud noise that close to his eardrum.

Levi only threw his head back, his hips starting to work onto a hard, quick rhythm against you. He trembled under your words and every deep thrust, every feel of your insides on his throbbing length was only contributing to the build up in his abdomen.

He hair, sweaty as it was, stuck on his forehead as it dripped, but you paid no mind in his salty taste as you kissed your way all over his forehead and cheeks, nose and jawline, trailing your tongue on any sharp edge of him.

Your legs were shaking now and much to your best wishes you struggled with your thrusting onto him. You only managed to gyrate your hips, earning another moan of him as you ceased your movements, sweat dripping off of your own forehead as if mimicking his antics.

His hands nearly slipped from your thighs as wet as they were but he managed to get the message you were trying to convey; with jaded breaths he started thrusting maniacally from underneath you, damaging through you as pleasure dueled in both your bodies.

Yearning splashed all over his face and his grunts only got louder. Your foreheads collided as you cupped his face, noses nuzzling up, eyes staring deep into eachother.

Gentle. His ultimate indulge into you was gentle and earth shattering at the same time. His veins popped in white hot pleasure and his chest boiled with numerous erotic moans as his abdomen screamed throughout him, leaving him with barely enough time to mechanically reach just to pull out. His head hung low onto your collarbone while his head throbbed, unable to come down from his high just yet. He couldn't even move his eyes to see you, although he knew by listening to your panted breaths that you were in the same position as him.

Pushing him back to lay down on the couch, you kissed all over his face for the thousandth time tonight.

"I'd never ever miss this important day, you know." You smiled, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose.

"It's not that special, brat" he spoke shyly as he cooed into your face rubbing his upper lip to your cheek. You recognised the action; it was a habit of his to coo in such way, any overly soft thing grazing his top lip indulged him in endless calmness and you hummed to yourself in amusement to the feeling.

"I missed you."

"I know. You said that." He huffed, his lips puckering to hide the playful demeanor behind his next words. "But I don't think I heard it right, mind repeating it?" His fingers trapped your nose between them and swayed your head from side to side before moving to your naked back to press you closer to him him once again.

"You're such a tease. I love you Levi."

"I love you too," He blurred with eyes that burned into yours and proceeded to place a sweet kiss onto your sweat drenched hair "so much, you brat."

Taglist go off: @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise

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