#call my name chapter 1

[thebiggerbear]

Call My Name - One - Phase One Is A Go

Summary: And so begins Phase 1.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Without giving anything away, there will be some dark elements in this story. I will absolutely put those warnings when that chapter happens but I just want to give you guys a heads up early on in case.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Songs for chapter (also listened to while writing): Prison Fight - Tyler Bates; Run For Your Life - The Siege

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sanctioned assassination; violence/blood; implied gore/death/murder; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; language; implied sexual imagery; hints of manipulation

Word Count: 8515

Series Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl; @deangirl96; @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @ej13928; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007

@onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

Some days were tough. Some days were harder than most. But here you were, getting through each day with only one goal in mind. Everything you did, every decision you made, every breath you took — it was all leading towards one specific objective.

And that’s why you were here now, at a black op CIA site, watching as they pulled a comatose Soldier Boy out of containment.

“Are you sure about this?” Grace Mallory asked as you both stared down from the observation deck at Vought’s original Supe they had cooked up. It wasn’t too often that Grace showed her soft side; most didn’t even know she had one actually. But right now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see concern mixed with understanding topped off with a bit of careful hesitation. While you hated the concern and appreciated the understanding, you couldn’t blame her on the hesitation. Soldier Boy was basically a nuclear reactor in human form and he hadn’t gone down under the best circumstances, which was putting it lightly. Not only did he not want to go back under for another deep sleep, but Butcher and his team would be in his sights now. And based on what he did to the last team who betrayed him, you all were in for a shitstorm.

You knew this was a terrible idea, that you could very likely die before achieving your goal and you could bring hundreds if not thousands of people with you if you weren’t careful. But you were out of options and just like Butcher and company had arrived at the same decision some months earlier, you had chosen to unearth the strongest weapon you had in your arsenal in the battle between Supes and humans. 

Grace had fought you on it of course. The government had strongly agreed with her assessment; Soldier Boy was too much of a risk to allow him to gain consciousness never mind walk around free. And yet they had no answer when you questioned why they didn’t just destroy him and end it, making the world that much safer. You knew why; they wanted to be in possession of that power, that weapon deep within the Supe’s chest. And that you could work with.

The older woman already knew your backstory and when you pressed the right buttons, backed by Butcher of all people, eventually she came around. You had no idea who she spoke to or what favors she had called in, but sure enough, your mission was greenlit with barely any resistance though a ton of uneasiness. Not unexpected and not entirely unfathomable. Funnily enough, President Singer was kept in the dark on this one; he was too close to Vought and by extension, Homelander and Victoria Neuman. You didn’t exactly mind. It was better for you and the mission as a whole if no one knew that Soldier Boy was still alive. How Grace managed to keep his existence under wraps for all of this time, you had no idea, but you were grateful she was on your side. So when you got the go ahead, you and Butcher took the win and hightailed it to the CIA facility before anyone could change their minds, or worse, figure out what you were up to and try to stop you. 

There were stipulations as you figured there would be: daily briefings, a carefully selected unit of CIA under Grace’s command would be monitoring your every move closely, they reserved the right to pull the plug at any time and put Soldier Boy back into containment, and while you were in charge of the op, Butcher was who you had to answer to in Grace’s absence. That definitely set your teeth on edge. You and Butcher had different ideas on how to get things done, but you reminded yourself that you both had the same goal and that was all that really mattered. So you begrudgingly agreed and now here you were ordering the staff to begin the process of waking the original Supe up. 

You watched as two men in Hazmat suits appeared to be choosing who would pull the figurative straw. You rolled your eyes; they were wasting time. Before you could hit a button and bark out an order, the one on your right seemed to be the one who had lost and warily approached Soldier Boy to remove his mask, practically darting away once he was finished. The staffer on the left was holding a radiation meter in his hand. From your viewpoint, you could see the levels slowly begin to rise. Sure enough, when you flicked your eyes over to the Supe, you could see movement underneath his eyelids, as if he were having an intense dream.

Grace saw it, too, and she ordered the two men out at once. There was no hesitation in following her command. Once they were out, Grace nodded to the staffer on her other side and he stayed at the ready, finger hovering over a button that you assumed would flood the room with Novichok gas within seconds if needed. Another employee darkened the windows in front of you. You could still see out but Soldier Boy wouldn’t be able to see in. A switch was flipped somewhere and the lights went down. The backup power source came on and the room was flooded with a red halo from the emergency lights. An alarm started to sound throughout the facility, as if someone had infiltrated the building, but everyone’s lack of movement and surprise confirmed there were no intruders. Instead, everyone’s focus was on the Supe who was going to open his eyes at any second. 

Grace turned back to you. “Are you ready for this?”

You grabbed the gas mask that had been given to you as a contingency. “Butcher and his team ready?”

“Ready and standing by,” someone informed you both.

You gave Grace a nod and turned to leave the room. 

“Hey,” she called, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that concern again, this time framed by the cold steel you’d gotten to know over the last few months. “If it looks like it’s not going to happen…” She let her warning trail off; both of you knew what would happen if things started to go sideways. She’d do her best to get you out before you got killed, but there was a high chance it wouldn’t happen. Then you’d be sealed in with a live nuclear reactor and that would be the end of you, and all of that would be before Soldier Boy could choose to unleash any of his wrath on you.

Giving a curt nod, you swiveled your head back in the direction you were headed in, determination filling your veins no matter the outcome. People cleared the path for you, fear plain as day on their faces. Not fear of you or even for you, but fear of what lay beyond in that chamber. Fear of what you had lobbied hard for to be woken up that would have been better left sleeping, for all eternity if some of them had their way. You didn’t pay them any mind and held your head up higher, a familiar blanket of cold indifference settling over you. You ignored their terrified gasps as you pulled one of your swords out of its sheath and headed for the open door. Once you were past it, after a few feet, you stopped right before the entrance to what could very well be your death, ignoring the sound of the door sealing shut behind you. 

You waited to be confronted by a group that had been specifically chosen for this op by Grace and Butcher. You could hear them approaching, talking low amongst themselves and trying to formulate a plan, which from some of their tones you could tell it wouldn’t hold up very well and not even that long even if you weren’t there to stop them. Sure enough, as you knew would happen with a few more footsteps, they rounded the corner, looking for an exit, only to find you.

The group of men had been dressed as security for the facility and the six of them varied in size. The one in front, a big burly guy who appeared to have declared himself as leader, sneered over at you. “Well, what do we have here?”

The way he looked at you, the vibe coming off of him as well as a few of the others… They had been chosen well; you could already feel the urge to wipe them off the map radiating throughout your body. Your thoughts were running rampant and as one of them leered, you could sense an all-too familiar rage attempting to burn brightly within you that you then masterfully directed throughout your body.

You swung your sword in your hand and tensed, getting ready. 

The leader laughed, turned to the other five, and ordered, “Get the bitch.”

The corner of your lips lifted in response. This was going to be a fun little workout for you that you could get in right before facing off with the final boss. Three men came charging at you and your sword flew with incredible precision as you spun in a dance you’d practiced a thousand times during training. You sliced open one and cut the other’s throat before either of them could even dream of laying a hand on you. When the third came closer, you made short work of him, and as you were about to injure the leader, he took one of the other two that had been hesitant to engage you, practically cowering, and used him as a human shield. He shoved the lanky man forward, right into your sword. You left it there and pulled your other one, kicking the dying man to the side. The sixth man cursed out loud and began running in the other direction. You pulled one of your knives from your belt and sent it careening into the back of his head, making him fall flat on his face. You then turned towards the one you had purposely saved for last. 

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You want some of this? Then come get it!” He pulled your sword out of the guy he’d thrust onto it and began trying to swing at you. You effortlessly dodged each of his blows and you waited for him to lose energy. He wasn’t even worth parrying with. Sure enough, when you saw the arc of his arm begin to slow down, you made your move. You avoided the blade coming for your torso by dropping to your knees and sliding over to him and cutting into his side with your sword. Your movement propelled you forward, cutting deeply, and he let out the loudest yell you’d heard yet. He pathetically tried to point the sword in your direction but you easily sidestepped the movement, watching him begin to bleed everywhere. 

He tried to weakly lift the weapon once more as he held a hand over his gaping wound but you stopped him by bringing your blade down on his arm, effectively removing the limb and forcing him to scream out in pain again. It was like music to your ears and you stood there before him, glaring down at the piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be alive to even have come across you. You had a sneaky suspicion that Grace had chosen this one. 

“Now you know what they felt,” you snarled quietly.

He scowled back at you and spit blood in your direction, with you stepping back to avoid the spray. “Fuck you, you dumb bitch! Just like all the rest!” 

You gave him a nod and lifted your sword, his eyes slightly going wide at the sight. “Like all the rest,” you echoed and brought the blade down, hard. 

Though his screams turned piercing, you took him apart piece by piece within seconds, making sure he felt everything before you finally ended him. It was more mercy than he deserved. He was worse than all of the others combined, not that they were angels themselves. Blood coated you and both swords so you used one of the others’ shirts to wipe the red stains from one of the blades. You pushed it into its sheath on your back once you were finished and held the other aloft as you pulled out the security key card Grace had given you. You could hear Soldier Boy’s breathing increase and you knew you had to get into his room and fast. 

You made your way to the control panel on the left side of the doors, scanned the card, and tossed it once the green light appeared. The tell-tale sound of the doors opening sounded and you readied yourself, sword in hand.

Once the doors had pulled aside and a low level of smoke cleared which you suspected was gas (perhaps Grace had to keep him subdued while you were meting out justice on that asshole), you saw exactly what you had come for.

There stood Soldier Boy, glaring at you, his chest rising and falling, his hands in fists. Obviously, having just woken up and gotten to his feet, he was still a bit disoriented but not enough that you could take him by surprise and win. You could also see a sheen of yellow beginning to form in the center of his figure and you knew you only had seconds.

You stepped into the room, knowing there was no going back now and that Grace was watching every move from behind the dark glass. The yellow glow started to manifest and you took a quiet breath in. His eyes narrowed and he moved to face off with you, his right fist clenching harder. 

You held up your free hand. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to break you out.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re with the Reds, aren’t you? You Commie motherfuckers expect me to believe that again?” He roared with a rasp, the color of the light in his chest turning from yellow to a luminous gold with a pinkish haze. 

You lifted your sword and placed it into the other waiting sheath on your back. At the action, Soldier Boy tensed further and took a step towards you.

You raised your other hand. “I’m not here to harm you.” He eyed you sharply, disbelief all over his face. “We’re not in Russia. We’re in the US, in upstate New York, at a black op CIA facility. You’ve been here for the past six months and I’m here to get you out.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we—”

“Why?” The Supe yelled, fury lacing his tone, and the gold light got even brighter.

Gas suddenly began to flow into the room from vents in the ceiling and another loud alarm sounded, one you hadn’t heard yet. Shit. Grace was getting ready to lock it down. You’d had your shot and it hadn’t worked. You literally had one minute to get the hell out of there. But you were nothing if not stubborn and determined to see this through. 

You pulled the gas mask from underneath your thin coat and held it up for him to see. You tossed it over at him and he caught it just like you hoped he would. His eyes snapped up at you, distrust and anger still clearly in his green gaze. You really couldn’t blame him but right now, you didn’t have the time.

“Like I said, I’m here to help. We don’t have time for me to explain right now. So unless you want to go back on ice…” You nodded your head towards the billowing gas making its way rapidly down to him. He glanced back in the direction you indicated and he cursed, quickly slipping the mask on. You noticed the light in his chest didn’t get any brighter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t locked and loaded, able to go off at any moment. 

He met your eyes again and you inclined your head back towards the doors that were just beginning to close. “I suggest you come with me,” you threw at him and then spun on your heel, making your way out of the room. You walked a few feet and stopped, glancing back over your shoulder, hoping like hell he would follow you.

Right before the doors could close the last few feet, Soldier Boy slipped past them and came to a stop in front of you. He yanked the gas mask off but held onto it, breathing deeply of the clean air. You had made it out of the room, gotten him out of it — you’d survived the first phase of the plan and now you just needed to get through the next. 

His eyes roamed over the remnants of the scene you both were standing in, seeing the bodies and blood everywhere, and landed on the mask in his hand. His gaze snapped up to you and his expression hardened, his tone dark and dangerous. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because,” you took a step towards him, staring into his eyes, pretending not to notice him tense in preparation for a fight. “I need your help.”

He huffed out a chuckle that was lacking any amusement. “Always a fucking catch. What do you want?”

You took another step towards him and you observed his jaw tightening. “We can talk about it later but right now, we really need to keep m—”

“What do you want?” He repeated.

“I need your help to take someone out.”

“Based on your handiwork,” He gestured to the scene around you with a hand. “I’d say you don’t need any help there, doll.”

Your own jaw clenched. “It’s a Supe.”

His eyes flashed and you knew that he was now aware of just who you were talking about. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, you knew that. There was only one Supe in existence that Soldier Boy had been made to go up against before; the only one that had been as strong as him and he had been evenly matched with; the only one that he would be woken out of a Novichok coma like King Kong and sent to go fight Godzilla. “Homelander,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You gave a nod of confirmation.

He watched you for a moment and then scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

You lifted your chin. “He’s always been a problem but he’s only gotten more dangerous and more unstable since you were put under.”

“Not my problem.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes but trying to keep the rage boiling within you in check. “Actually, it is your problem. He wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t given Vogelbaum a sample of your DNA to work with.”

He approached you quickly, the fury radiating off of him and the rose gold pulsing in his chest. You stood your ground. “I didn’t know that Vought would make a fucking kid with it!” He roared.

You wanted to ask just what he thought the mad doctor would do with his sperm but you kept that thought to yourself, knowing this wasn’t the time. You never broke eye contact and you watched as he panted harshly, his hands in fists again, the gas mask dangling from one. You remained quiet, waiting to see what would transpire. One wrong move here and you’d be toast, gone before you could even begin the most important mission of your life. One you were determined to see through no matter the cost. 

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond or react in any way, the gold light dimmed slightly and his hands slowly relaxed. “I didn’t ask for them to betray me and hand me over to the Reds where I was tortured every goddamn day for years. I didn’t ask for them to whip up some wannabe replacement behind my back. I didn’t ask to be forgotten,” he hissed.

You were a little surprised when you noticed the hurt and betrayal shadowing his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. You watched as he turned to glance behind him, presumably to glare back at the room he’d been held in. But you knew he was also attempting to mask the tiny piece of vulnerability that had unexpectedly come through. You’d seen the videos of the torture he’d endured back in Russia, read his file back to back, sat through his crappy films, and you’d been fully briefed by Grace, Butcher, and the rest of the team who had exclusive dealings with him the first time he’d returned to the States six months ago. You’d also delved deep into Payback’s history and studied up on each and every one of its members. You knew about his PTSD, how he tended to self-medicate with booze, drugs, and women though he was in denial about having the disorder. You also knew that while some of his toxic beliefs and archaic attitudes were still in place, he was not entirely the same person he’d been before he was strapped to a table and Russian scientists proceeded to check off a list of several hundred different ways to try to kill him. The cocky swagger that had come so naturally to him before that was no longer the real deal. If anything, he overcompensated to try to make people believe he was the same Supe he’d been and just as dangerous as ever, with the added bonus of a nuclear threat sitting inside his chest.  

“Maybe not,” you agreed quietly. He turned back towards you. “I can make it worth your while.”

A sly smile began to form on his face as his gaze roved over you. “Appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but you’re not my type. I like ‘em a little older. Although, I will say the swords and the blood, you walking in there like some goddamn avenging angel…kinda hot.”

You fought not to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Well then, unless you’ve got some fucktastic pussy waiting for me to wreck it along with some Bennies and grade A reefer, we’ve got nothing to talk about.” He lifted the mask up in a gesture of thanks and turned to slip down the hallway past you.

Watching him step barefoot in the blood, you waited until he had made it a few feet before saying, “Your freedom.”

He froze at that, turning his head slightly to the side, listening.

You walked up to him, only stopping a foot or so away. “You help me with Homelander, and you get your freedom. No more Vought, no more government, no more pulling of your strings. You’ll be free.”

He slowly turned to face you, his expression hardened though you didn’t miss the tiny glimmer of hope carefully hidden away in his gaze. “Bullshit. You don’t have that kind of pull no matter how you found me and got me out.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Grace Mallory does.”

“Who the fuck is Grace Mallory?”

You took a step closer, noting how this time he didn’t tense in preparation. In his mind, he had already dismissed you as someone he needed to worry about. While that was a good development for your plan, it irked you a little. You may not be Homelander, but you were certainly no weakling. And with this guy, guaranteed he automatically dismissed you as a threat because he saw you as weaker than him, and also because you were a woman. “Someone who does have that kind of pull.” You took yet another step towards him, confirming your theory when he only glared down at you. “You should know, you’ve met her before.”

At his knitted brow, you supplied, “Nicaragua, 1984.”

You watched as he searched through his memories, realization dawning on his features when he found the right one, his brows arching in slight surprise. “Captain Lesbo?”

You gave him a scowl that would have made a lesser man curl up in a ball. Grace and Hughie had warned you about his outdated and toxic takes on the world around him. 

That sly smile was back on his face. “She was gorgeous back then. I bet she’s aged like a real fine wine by now.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you felt queasy at his obvious lustful thoughts of the older woman. Right. Butcher and Hughie had given you a heads up on that, too.

Before he could get too lost in that fantasy, you made sure to interrupt with “She’s got the pull. So, are you in?”

He eyed you sharply, thinking over the offer. You also knew that he was thinking over how to secure the freedom you had dangled in front of him without having to deal with you or Grace. The sound of approaching security had you both snapping your gazes towards the noise. This was a group you couldn’t dispatch as easily as you had the first considering they were the real deal. Well, you could but you wouldn’t. You snuck a glance at his chest, seeing the gold beginning to shimmer underneath his skin once more. You had to get him out of here before the guards showed up.

He glanced back at you. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you. Homelander dead.”

“No,” he ground out, taking a step towards you, his eyes burning into you and the light in his chest shining a golden halo on your face from his close proximity. This time, you were the one tensing, preparing to defend yourself. “What do you get?”

“My freedom as well,” you informed him, never breaking eye contact or stepping away. You were telling him the truth. Once the strongest Supe on the planet was no more, you would be free, in a way. He didn’t need to know how, though.

His eyes roved over you and he let out a disgusted huff. “You’re a Supe.”

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. “So, do we have a deal?” You both could hear the men getting closer. “Tick tock,” you reminded him.

The anger never faded from his expression but the light in his chest began to grow a little brighter. “How about I blow this place to hell instead and you come with me? I could do with a little entertainment after being locked away in this shithole.” He let his gaze roam over you appreciatively and you could see just what kind of entertainment he had in mind.

You squared your jaw, not at all in the mood for his womanizing machismo bullshit. “If you blow this place up, the deal is off the table. Mallory won’t stand for it and considering my freedom is on the line, neither will I. I don’t need a bunch of CIA crawling up my ass while I go after Soldier Boy Junior. As for entertainment, now’s a good time for you to get reacquainted with your right hand because there’s no way you’re getting any of that from me,” you snarled. “So either take the deal or I leave you to be hunted down by every single agency and military across the globe once word gets out that you’re still alive. And it will get out.”

You both continued glaring at one another but he didn’t say a word. The men were getting closer.

“Best of luck with that,” you snapped, and turned to slip past him, intent on leaving him behind. Your anger wasn’t feigned; you were pissed. You knew he would be stubborn, mistrustful even, given what he’d been through, but this was just beyond irritating. You didn’t have time to stop and hammer out details; you were now on the run for Christ’s sake.

You headed in the opposite direction of the guards, pulling one of your swords, readying yourself for the sprint to the exit you’d planned for. Grace must be pissing her pants right about now; she’d given you both plenty of time to get out of the building. And if she was pissing her pants, you knew Butcher and his team were crapping theirs. Soldier Boy was awake and now it was up to Grace and the CIA to put him back under, your plan a complete failure. It wasn’t your fault that the Supe was indeed the most idiotic one as Grace had stated him to be. You’d given it your best shot. 

You surged forward, planning to keep casualties as low as possible should you come across anyone. A hand gripped your shoulder, hard, and turned you to face one very pissed off Soldier Boy. You got ready to start the battle of your life, knowing you were most likely going to lose, but you stopped when you noticed his chest was no longer glowing. 

“You got a way out of here?”

You arched a brow up at him. “You’re taking the deal?”

He snorted and released you, his eyes flicking back towards the opposite end of the hallway you were in before returning to you. “You get us out of here, get me some food and the shit I ask for, and we’ll talk.”

“No deal, no dice.” 

You went to move past him when he stopped you again, his hand gripping your upper arm. You could feel the superior strength behind it; if he wanted to, he could snap your arm like a twig, exerting very little pressure. But thankfully, he seemed more focused on getting you to listen to him rather than harming you. “You want me to help you kill Homelander?” At your nod, he let out an angry breath. “Done. I would have hunted down that sniveling pussy on my own, anyway. But after you give me what I just asked for. And then I get my freedom,” he dictated.

“We both do,” you tacked on, still shocked that you had managed to get him to agree.

His eyes roamed over your face and then he gave you a nod, letting you go. “So which way to the fucking exit?”

Just then, the guards broke through the door and spilled out into the hallway, spotting you and shouting at one another to take you both down. Soldier Boy turned a ferocious glare on them and began to step around you to take them on when you grabbed his bicep. The action prompted him to glance down at your hand, his gaze then lifting to yours. “This way,” you urged, and began to run. Thankfully, he fell in step right behind you. Bullets were suddenly being fired in your direction and you had to practically fly out of there. Those bullets might ricochet off Soldier Boy but they wouldn’t bounce so easily off of you. 

As you were passing a small vehicle that you’d seen security guards traversing in on your last visit, he picked it up and launched it at the guards pursuing you. You heard the sickening sounds of machinery crunching flesh and you could only hope no one had died or had life threatening injuries. Instead, all you could manage to do now was to distract the Supe and get him out of there.

“Through here,” you called back to him. Relief pooled in your chest when you glanced back to find his attention on you. He hurried over towards you and you punched in the code Grace had given you to memorize. The door opened and you ducked as you pushed past it, hearing the sounds of more bullets flying your way. Soldier Boy was right behind you and you hit the button to close the door. Once it was shut you used your strength to punch the control panel and destroy it so the guards couldn’t follow.

You turned to find Soldier Boy’s brows arched at you in surprise before a leering smirk appeared on his face. “Well, that answers that.”

You let out a quiet scoff and slipped your sword back into the empty sheath on your back. “Like I said, that’s not happening.”

“A shame,” he practically purred at you, amusement clear as day in his eyes alongside a fire you hadn’t seen there before. It became quickly apparent just what that fire was. The image of you both tangled up in one another, the blood still on your skin, and him slamming into you up against the walls of the hallway you were now in made the queasiness from earlier reappear. It got even worse when the image transformed into one of you emerging into the room he’d been held in and him taking you right on the gurney he’d been laid out on, neither of you caring who showed up, who watched, or who ended up dying when he was finished. The queasiness had become full blown nausea at this point, and you forced it back down. You had a job to do after all.

You ignored his eyes roaming over your body and lifted your chin. “Time to go.”

You marched past him and continued on the route you and Grace had planned. Thankfully, he followed and the images began to peter out the closer you got to the outside. You were beyond grateful for that; you could only see his face contorted in pleasure as he rutted into you so many times before you would actually throw up. Not for the first time since you’d been turned, you cursed this gift you had been given.

“I take it Captain Lesbo gave you the code back there?” He asked.

“Who do you think told me where to find you?” You countered.

You led the way through another tunnel until you came to a heavy door that supposedly led to the parking lot outside. You yanked out both swords, pulled your hood up, and flicked your gaze over to the Supe. “Ready?”

You watched as his hands clenched into fists once more. “Lead the way.”

You tested the door. It swung open and suddenly both of you were engulfed in the bright light of the sun. You scanned the parking lot when you noticed the office supplies van parked about three hundred feet away, right where Grace said it would be. “It’s a short run but we’ve got to make it fast. She’ll only be able to get us a blind spot from the cameras for a few minutes. We’re headed for that van over there.” You gestured in the vehicle’s direction. “So when I say go, we run like hell.”

The man gave you a curt nod and held a hand over his eyes, looking over the lot as well. 

You waited, tensed and prepared for a fight, hoping it wouldn’t be a long one. Grace should have eyes on you by now and Team B should be ready to engage you the moment you both stepped out further. You really wished you had an earpiece for this part but due to Soldier Boy’s extra sharp hearing, it had been decided across the board that it was too much to risk. You would just have to keep trusting in the timing of the plan you had come up with. You could hear the rumbling of a motor coming closer, picking up speed and gaining momentum. You held up a hand near the Supe and began to manually count down from 5. 

A box truck was about to pass by as you got to 2, signaling to you that Phase 3 was a go, when suddenly everything went to hell. Soldier Boy stepped out in front of the vehicle, unflinching as it made impact with his body. To your absolute amazement, you silently watched as his feet stayed stationary and the truck began to wrap itself around the Supe, the object needing to go somewhere, and split right down the middle. You could hear the loud screeching of the metal and the terrified yell of the driver before it was abruptly cut off. Your brain barely had time to process what you were seeing when Soldier Boy picked up one half of the sliced truck and launched it in the air as if it were a football. It was aimed at a location where you knew reinforcements were waiting to rush out and engage you from. You heard the tell-tale screams and ensuing splat. Mallory was going to be pissed.

The Supe then turned a glower back onto you. “No need to run now.” You could see that though he had been attracted to you a few minutes ago, had mostly agreed to your deal, and you had broken him out, he still didn’t trust you completely. You could understand that, respect it even. But you couldn’t have him going off script like this if your plan was to succeed. And the plan could not fail. Something you would make clear to him once you were both far away from here.

Truthfully, you should have anticipated something like this. Soldier Boy was volatile, unpredictable at best, but once you had gotten him to switch off the nuke in his chest, you had naively thought you could get him out with a low body count. That certainly wasn’t the case now. You were grateful that you were already mid-op because you knew if you weren’t, Mallory would have immediately shut you down. No way in hell was that happening. 

That last thought spurred you into action. You nodded and sheathed both of your swords, heading towards the van. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Choose something else,” he ordered.

You shot him an irritated glare. “That’s the vehicle they have set up for us. Which means there’s keys, gas — the works.”

“It also means they can track us.” You were slightly surprised but you kept it off of your features. “Butcher and his cumguzzler thought I wasn’t listening to their bitchfests when they were tracking down my old team for me.” His eyes snapped to yours. “I was.”

Of course he had been. You could see now that this was something everyone had missed when dealing with him in the past, his most recent foray into the modern world included. Butcher and his team had been so focused on the danger the Supe presented and his lethality, that they hadn’t realized just how closely he had been listening and watching. Several examples of this behavior flickered through his mind quickly and you saw every single one which had always turned things to his advantage while turning badly (sometimes deadly) for others. Butcher and Hughie had easily dismissed him as a fossil who didn’t know what a smartphone was. Even Mallory had said he was the most idiotic of all the Supes to ever exist. And he had let them. He let them think he was the Soldier Boy they had seen on their TV screens once upon a time, in old newspaper clippings, and what had been jotted down in his file over the years he had been active with Vought: the public persona and the demanding celebrity personality behind all of that. But this Soldier Boy…this one was far more clever, calculating, and you knew then that this was where the real danger resided. A quick flash of a woman you recognized as Crimson Countess bound to a chair in a double wide followed by an explosion and another image of her charred corpse afterwards confirmed your suspicions. 

Right now, any other person having realized what you just did, they might have turned back. Or they would get him to the next location and bow out, let Butcher and Mallory handle it from there on out. But you weren’t that person and you were fully in this. You had started this and you were committed to see it all the way through. And see it through you would, come hell or high water or murderous Supes. There was no other option; there never had been from the moment you woke up with a foreign chemical running through your veins, enhanced abilities, and fine-tuned senses. What you just discovered about the Supe currently glaring you down could only help the plan in the long run while also ensuring you were even more careful than you already planned to be.

You turned to face him fully and stared into his eyes. “Understood.” You wanted him to know that you knew, even if he didn’t know how yet, and that despite that, you were still sticking to the plan which included him.

He studied you for a moment and you could see that while he was still unsure about you, he was deciding to trust you…for now. He released your shoulder and slightly relaxed his stance. 

“Any ideas?” Since he had changed this part of the plan, you figured he could offer up an alternative.

“Don’t care as long as it runs.” He glanced towards the lot filled with other heavy duty vehicles. 

“Agreed. But we still need to move. We don’t have long before the cameras turn back on.” You immediately made your way towards a dark blue SUV sitting parked near a curb. You had a feeling this may have belonged to some of the agents he had just killed, but it only meant three things to you: keys, gas, and a working car that could handle the speed and damage you would need to get out of here. You tried the back door, finding it unlocked, and you immediately knew you had been right. No one was coming to reclaim this vehicle, not for a while anyway. 

You quickly removed the scabbard from your back and slipped it into the backseat before jumping behind the wheel. Soldier Boy hopped in next to you, watching you as you turned the engine over. You didn’t bother mentioning that once Mallory and Butcher figured out you were in this vehicle, they could track it as well; that would only be counterproductive to the plan and make him more suspicious of you. 

You pulled away from the curb and sped out of the lot. When you got near the security booth, a platoon of armed guards tried to flag you down. This was one of the reasons why the office supplies van had been selected. You could have removed your gear and passed yourself off as a delivery driver; Mallory had already greenlit that part of the plan. This…well, you would need to improvise. 

You glanced over at Soldier Boy who was scowling in their direction. “Hang on,” you warned. Not that he needed to; he’d already proven that nothing could damage or even dent that super strong body of his. You, on the other hand, had to duck down as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gunning it. Bullets began flying towards your car but you didn’t let up, not even when you presumably hit a couple of the guards in your bid to escape. You felt Soldier Boy’s hand roughly push you down further in your seat and his other hand land next to yours on the wheel. A few more sickening thuds, pings from bullets, and wet crunches when the car jumped up slightly as your wheels mowed over those who hadn’t moved, and then you were scot free.

“We’re clear,” Soldier Boy gruffed out next to you, releasing you and moving back into his seat. 

You lifted up and glanced in your sideview mirror, seeing the destruction you had just caused getting further and further away. You tried to feel remorse about it, you really did, but that emotion — any emotion — was the gateway to weakness and you couldn’t afford that. Especially not now. 

“You injured?” 

You weren’t but you slid your hood back and automatically glanced down at yourself to double check. “Nope. You?”

You looked up at him and as expected, his bare muscular chest was smooth, free of any injuries. His arms and face contained barely a shadow of a bruise, never mind an actual wound. He noticed your perusal of him and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. An image of him railing you in the backseat had you turning back to the road, trying to mask your disgust. 

“I’m good, doll,” he assured you. “Real good. Fucking horny as shit, though. It’s been a while. Think you can find us a place to pull over and let me fuck you quick?”

This was going to be a long ride. “Seems to me your right hand is free.”

Instead of being annoyed at your answer, he only smirked wider. “Is that your way of telling me you’d like me to start us off by jerking it while you look for a place?”

“No,” You met his gaze head on. “That’s my way of telling you not to let your wrist cramp up on this mission because you’re going to be jerking it quite a bit.”

He seemed completely unbothered by your words. “You want to see my dick?”

You scoffed in disgust and focused back on the road.

“I’m fully hard right now and let me tell you, it is a fucking sight to behold. Extra strength wasn’t the only thing the V gave me.” His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he continued trying to convince you. “Women love my dick. There isn’t a woman I’ve fucked that has ever walked right again.”

“Wow,” you quipped. “Quite the selling point.”

He ignored your snarkiness. “You see it for yourself, dollface, and I guarantee you’ll be changing your mind. All I’ve gotta do is pull it out, right here, right now, and you’ll be begging for me to slip it inside you.”

You had noticed the bugle in his sweats out of the corner of your eye before you turned away just before; you knew he was telling you the truth. He was horny, hard, and literally about to whip it out. Not unless you shut him down hard. You may not be able to keep him from pleasuring himself right there next to you, but at least he would know there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near his supposedly legendary manhood. You wished you could tell that he was lying but you could only see images of women worshiping him and his body as he thought back over his vast amount of conquests. When you saw his hand reaching into his sweats from your peripherals, you decided the time to make your firm boundaries on this subject known was now.

“I’m never having sex with you so don’t even bother. I’m here to do a job and that job isn’t you, as much as you might like it to be. When we get to the motel, if you want to find an old lady willing to help you with your problem, fine by me. But this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Is never happening.”

He snickered next to you. “You say that now but I’m telling you, doll, one peek at my dick might change your mind. Or when you hear how fucking good I’m giving it to some other gal.” He turned another filthy smile on you. “But just know that when I’m wrecking that pussy, I’ll be thinking of you and how good I know you’d feel squeezing around me.”

The images of you in the throes of pleasure returned and you tensed, your jaw tightening, but you forced yourself to think only of the plan. “What every girl hopes to hear,” you muttered. You glanced in the rearview mirror and very far back, you noticed Butcher’s vehicle following you. You weren’t surprised; Mallory had never really turned the cameras off and it’s not like you hadn’t left a big blinking neon sign back there to get her attention on where you had exited the compound. 

Soldier Boy’s hand rubbed over the bulge in his pants a few times before he chuckled under his breath and went to look out his window. “So, you know who I am, you know my name… I don’t know yours. Why don’t you tell me?”

You clenched your fingers on the wheel and held your breath, focusing your vision on the rearview. 

A moment later, Soldier Boy turned to look at you, smirking. You subtly let out your breath and relaxed your grip on the wheel, placing your eyes back on the road. “I bet it’s a real pretty one. Come on, tell me.”

You could hear him dialing up the flirtation, switching from being direct to now trying to charm you. “Name’s Persephone.”

“Persephone? That is pretty but it sounds like a Supe name.”

You briefly glanced over at him. “It is.”

He seemed to think it over, nodding after a moment in approval. “What’s your real name?”

“Nope.” You shook your head.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You met his eyes once more. “Because you haven’t earned that yet.” You waited another moment before finally breaking away from his intense gaze.

You could see as he took you in, how his eyes roamed over you hungrily, and you knew the moment he decided to accept the challenge he was determined that you presented. Another chuckle escaped him and he looked out his window again. “Alright, doll. We’ll play it your way, for now. Besides, it’s really my name that matters in this situation here.”

Your brows began to furrow and you did your best to get a read on him. What was he talking about? “How so?”

You watched as he turned to look at you and you could feel the rush of desire that immediately ran through him as images of you screaming, begging, and moaning “Ben! Oh my god, Ben! Ben, don’t ever stop fucking me, please! Fuck, Ben! Fucking give it to me! Oh fuck, right there!” floated to the forefront of his mind. You knew what his words would be before he even said them. “Because you’ll be screaming it before long.”

The nausea from earlier was back but you tamped it down and waited until he turned away from you again. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and relief consumed you when you noticed Butcher’s vehicle was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not only had you successfully distracted the Supe but the moment Soldier Boy became interested in the topic of you, Phase 4 of the overall plan began. Now you only had to get him to the motel, get him rested and recharged, and then your work could truly begin. Leading you all down the path to the only thing that mattered: the eradication of Vought, and the end of Homelander once and for all.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[toesucker416]

This arc has been putting me to sleep for the past 5 chapters and now Hokazono just ran up and shoved an airhorn in my ear and said "WAKE UP, DUMBASS! SAMURA IS THE TRAITOR AND URUHA IS DEAD! AND YOUR GOAT IS NEXT!" Hakuri stocks have been on a fucking roller coaster, Yogurt have finally reconvened in hell (killed a few too many people on the Kamunabi's dime), and we're finally starting to get some actual perspective on the Hishaku.

Who are you, Genichi Twojo? What devious acts have you committed? Does Yura really want the Shinuchi, or does he just want you dead?

[leojurand]

the unicorn hunt chapter 10 nicholas the fleury the sexiest a fictional man has ever been i fear

[lemonadebombery]

Kunikida's Ideal Notebook

the pages are dotted bc i like dotted notebooks marginally better than lined notebooks bc i can organize and put stuff in little boxes and stuff

has 40 leaves total which is enough for my personal needs, i can always make another one when i need to

[hazy-sayonoria]

I FINISHED FINALS YAYYYYYYYYYYYY

I'm finally free from hell 😭

In honor of FINALLY finishing 8th grade after what felt like a decade,I shall show one of my bendy ocs

Her names chloe ! She was my first bendy oc,first fandom oc,and first ever oc

(I totally didn't decide to show her after redesigning her for the 10283747383th time)

She can hide her wings and halo !!!

Different poses

3/4 has no wings or halo because she perfers hiding them

Even after all these years of her existence since I created her when I was 7,She is still shipped with our good boy sammy (YES,OC X CANON,SHUT UP)

Old design before redesigning her today

There's more older designs,I'll probably show em when I find em

Anyway,I'll probably be playing bendy : secrets of the machine soon !! Maybe later today or tomorrow when I have free time,most likely tomorrow 10pm or 11pm GMT+3 (Egypt time)

I'll add my channel link in my bio and pinned message after I post this

[wonderlandsakura]

Day 40: Ugh Politics, part 0

Just dialogue, but it's exposition and background on future social dynamics lol

"Ugh do I have to do this?"

"Yes, for the sake of our new life here in this world, you do."

"Ughhhhhhhh..."

"Haaa... Don't worry, it won't be that bad. Probably. Now remember-"

"Yeah yeah, talk with the Baldwins and Corinas, they're our allies and will give us the down low, watch out for the Geese-"

"Borghese Alice, Borghese."

"Yeah, yeah, watch out for them, they have it out for us, be wary of the Hendersons and Alexandrias, and we're on the same side as those groupies, the Gardners and Antheas, so we have to make nice with them."

"Don't be rude, Alice, and yes, we're friendly with them, but-"

"But we're also the power among them so we can't make a fool of ourselves, yes yes, I know. You've only been drilling this for the last month!"

"I know, but-"

"Huuff. Don't worry Marcus, I remember everything, okay? The Baldwins have the lay of the land, the Corinas are skilled in politics, the Gardners have clout, and Antheas know basically everyone and everything. I know. Stop worrying so much."

"... And our Goal?"

"Like I could forget that."

"In... And Out... . Okay, let's do this."

"That's more like it!"

[ahsokkairti]

what the fuck??? where was this energy all this season 😭

[killjoy-prince]

I was reading manga telling myself to go to bed to no avail when my brother called telling me to open the door because he forgot his keys. When I opened the door, I told him he was lucky I was reading manga bc no one else was up right now and so he thanked me and then went to my room and said in a cutesy voice "Thank you manga~!"

[inked-out-trees]

Tell me about fixed point my friend. In return I offer a monologue from one if my stage scripts, Matthew's Marvelous and Mystifying Magic Act (ironically preceding my knowledge of magic goes wrong)

Matt Thank you, to those of you who have stuck around to see the latter half of the production. We’ve had a few minor hiccups, but the show must go on, as I have to fulfil a contractual obligation to our sponsor: Wowzafresh cleaning products; scrub away your past with the all new ultra deluxe exfoliator, not safe for human use. Anyways, it seems my parents have still not arrived, though upon checking my email I’ve found that in response to the tickets I sent my mother she has sent back a link to a two year course in Accounting. Perhaps she is hoping I will one day take after my younger sister, a rather successful paralegal, in having a career she can tell her book club about and not receive condolences in return. Still, as a brief note the rabbit has been captured and safely returned to its cage and Sasha and I will be arranging a carpool after the performance to get rabies shots. I would highly encourage any of you who may have come into contact with it to do the same. Now, back to the magic!

(He is visibly startled by the smoke bomb this time, not managing to exit before it dissipates. Instead he just waits for Sasha to open the curtain.)

man i'm starting to think that you didn't find the goes wrong franchise... the goes wrong franchise found you

as a (fictional) scientific concept, the fixed point theory is a maxim of time travel that suggests that the progression of events is relatively immutable - summed up in the phrase anything that has happened will happen, and anything that will happen has happened. mainly, if a person goes back in time to do anything, whatever they do will ultimately contribute to the version of the "future" they know. vanessa speaks to this rather confusingly in the first chapter: "if she went back and time and killed her grandfather, she wouldn't cease to exist because her grandfather wasn't actually her grandfather, and this was how time was and he would always die like that. or something."

specific events are known as Fixed Points - moments in time that everything surrounds, like nails in a string, things that Cannot Be Changed, even as little bits and pieces shift and twist. most of what we know as history consists of fixed events. the shattering of the cornely drama society is also a fixed point.

this reminds us, as time travelers, that despite the freedom and adventure that comes with it, all our choices still have lasting effects - you can't go back and change it once it's happened. as a bonus, it means that the cpds didn't fuck anything up when they went to the seventies 😁

(also, it's just very important to the plot.)

thanks for the ask you're the best!!!

[grubhumor]

A moodboard I made based off an oc of mine, the one in the middle!

[stunie]

ok so i hit 30 tags pretty early so i wanted to add extra thoughts under here i am SOOO SORRY OMFG ITS SO MUCH 😭😭 GOD

attempt 1 at reading - thoughts:

i love how you wrote the nervousness and hesitation of both reader and atsumu ): this relationship feels so genuine and realistic, like every thought is so real and complex and it all just plays out soooo vividly in my head. i can literally feel every single thing in MY SOUL. it got me holding my breath, my heart racing, my stomach churning

the kiss . the first kiss where mr suna interrupted . when i tell you i read it like this >//////< EXCEPT MY HAND WAS CLASPED SO TIGHTLY OVER MY MIUTH. oh my god the reaction i had. it really felt like a first kiss all over again, i was genuinely WARM and all blushy

attempt 2 at reading - thoughts:

i loved how u wrote out the tension again .. and your characterization for all of them ?? kita being all observant? osamu being all curious ?

the emotional rollercoaster i am on in this chapter is crazy. i took my first break after suna interrupted (the kiss killed me), and im taking my second break right after atsumu confesssd (i was killed a second time). i was irritated during the cafe bc WHY r u avoiding me, and then the next second i’m like squealing 😭 the way that u write yue !! the way that u write . i am such a mess right now give me another moment

attempt 3 at reading - thoughts:

holy shit this scene . the kissing ? THE AAY YOU DESCDIBED IT from the first kiss ?? this one made my stomach FLIP omfg .

oh god the neck kisses . the .. the everything . my left leg has goosebumps idk why it’s only my left leg am i okay yue ? am i okay what’s wrong with me

i have a little ways to go i’m almost done but i need yet another break holy shit i have been reduced to a dizzy lil mess what have i become

attempt 4 at reading - thoughts:

oh my god ): oh my god ): what am i even supposed to say here. i love how u wrote the smut part ?? it feels like actual love ? he is so sweet pls

osamu interrupting had me jolting upright BECAUSE SUNA FIRST NOW OSAMU ? is kita the next victim ?? poor baby

AGHHH THE ENDING IS SO CUTE i fr feel like im in an anime ): i feel so pretty and so lovely THIS WAS SO LOVELYYY TYSMMM YUE FOR WRITING THIS

v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: vi. Epilogue: Sakura sweetness | series masterlist

synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.

chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.

word count: 6.1k

notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.

Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.

It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.

Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.

Everything felt right.

As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.

Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.

With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.”

It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.

Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.

“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.

Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?

For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.

“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.

What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?

“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”

It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.

Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.

Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.

The situation was a double-edged sword, really.

You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.

How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.

Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”

God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.

You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?

Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.

And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.

It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.

Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.

Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.

Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?” 

Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.

Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.

It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.

Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.

For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.

Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.

Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.

The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.

Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—

“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”

A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.

Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.

Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.

On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.

Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.

“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.

As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”

Did he have to word it like that?

Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.

The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.

So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.

Monday. 

Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.

Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.

On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.

The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.

He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.

Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.

As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.

The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.

You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.

God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.

That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?

Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.

The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.

From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.

It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.

When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.

He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.

With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.

Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.

“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.

Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.

“I’m here for you, Miya.”

Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.

The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”

There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.

“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”

Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”

Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’  What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it? 

“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!

Your mind was a complete mess.

Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.

Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.

Did he say something wrong?

“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.

“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”

What?

You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”

It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”

“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”

Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.

Fuck it.

“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”

What?

Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.

“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”

When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.

“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”

Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.

Oh.

Oh.

The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.

Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.

You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.

For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere. 

“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”

Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.

Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.

“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.

Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.

Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.

Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.

“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.

Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.

You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.

Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.

And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.

As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.

“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!” 

A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.

Oh, you could get used to this.

Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.

Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.

“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.

The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike. 

As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.

Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.

“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —

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© atsumou 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[finalexpenses]

auuu

[musical-chick-13]

Because I am aware of how people operate on the Internet: courtesy of being about to post a fic with some uhhhhh much-maligned subject matter, I may turn off anonymous asks for a few weeks.

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ rafe cameron

playing: 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! a kickback on the beach involving both kooks and pogues turns ugly after rafe sees jj maybank talking sweetly in your ear..

paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

warnings: friends? with benefits , angst , mentions of underage drinking , violence (fist fighting) , toxic!rafe , sexual content + rough unprotected car sex! , choking , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 6.7k

notes: thinking about making this into a series but it just depends on how we all like it so lmk!

chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“you’re a fucking idiot,” kie says through a burst of laughter, watching jj attempt to shotgun two beers at once. instead of drinking, most of the beer spills straight onto the sand, leaving him grinning like it was all part of the plan.

a soft giggle slips past your lips as jj smashes the crushed cans together dramatically, then thumps his chest like he just pulled off something incredible—even though he couldn’t have failed more miserably.

you shake your head, pointing at the two crushed cans lying in the sand. “don’t give him any more if he’s gonna pull shit like that!” you say, half-serious, half-amused.

jj’s grin fades into a mock frown, his brows furrowing as he throws his hands up dramatically. “what? i was just getting started!” he protests, though the beer-soaked sand beneath him says otherwise.

you roll your eyes, ready to fire back at jj, when the vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you. the name on the screen makes your stomach flip, and you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting to keep a smile from slipping out where your friends could see.

kook devil: wya?

you: beach kickback on the cut

kook devil: omw

this time, the smile wins. you glance down at the screen, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite yourself. it wasn’t the first time rafe cameron had texted you late at night, asking where you were. but no one else knew that. and you weren’t about to admit it to anyone—especially not to your friends.

friends who hated kooks with a passion. and everything, and everyone, that came with them.

“what are you smiling at?” sarah asks, her voice light but laced with curiosity, as she and john b stroll over, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. her amused grin only makes you more nervous.

you lock your phone instantly, still smiling but scrambling for an excuse. “my package just got delivered,” you say quickly, trying to sound nonchalant.

sarah hums in response, the suspicion in her tone subtle but enough to make your stomach tighten. you don’t notice, too busy avoiding eye contact and silently thanking the chaos that erupts when jj and pope start arguing about something ridiculous, as usual.

you knew what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, especially to sarah. if she ever found out you and rafe were hooking up behind everyone’s backs, she’d lose it. they all would. and not just because he’s a kook.

it’s because he’s rafe fucking cameron.

it was kind of a blur how it all started with rafe. you remember being at a party—not sure if it was here on the beach or in figure 8—but of course, he was there, lingering in the crowd. all night, his eyes kept finding yours, holding your gaze just a little too long.

a couple of tequila shots later, you found yourself in his truck, attempting to ride him as he fucked you senseless, leaving you a trembling mess of moans and breathless curses.

ever since that night, you’d fallen into a rhythm—friends with benefits, if you could even call it that. except you weren’t friends. not even close.

you and rafe both knew the deal—just sex, no strings attached. it was made clear the second time you hooked up. after somehow getting your number, rafe texted you at 1 a.m. asking to meet. if it had been anyone else, you would’ve said no without a second thought. but rafe cameron always gets what he wants.

afterward, it was rafe who spelled it out: just sex, nothing more. and you agreed, even though the words stung more than you cared to admit. you told yourself you were fine with it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if you played along long enough, he’d change his mind.

except he hasn’t.

and what really reeled you in was just the other day, you spotted him on the golf course with stacy thornton, topper’s cousin of all people. and of course he knew you’d see him—you work the country club as a bev girl. how could you not?

still, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pretending not to care even as your chest tightened. you quietly asked a coworker to handle his table, murmuring something about being swamped, and then buried yourself in busywork to avoid the sting of watching him laugh with her.

since that day, he hasn’t called or texted. not a word. until tonight.

because surely, stacy was busy.

“yo, y/n! come shotgun a beer with us!” kie and sarah call out, snapping you out of your thoughts. you force a small smile, pushing everything about rafe to the back of your mind as you stand up from the driftwood branch you’d been perched on. joining your girls, you grab a beer and do your best to play along.

as the night rolls on, the beach fills up with more people—kooks, pogues, and everyone in between. the music gets louder, and the air becomes a chaotic mix of laughter, shouting, and waves crashing in the background. drunk teenagers stagger through the sand, passing bottles and shots around, but so far, there haven’t been any issues. yet.

but you know how these nights go. when kooks and pogues show up to the same party, trouble is inevitable. it’s only a matter of time before someone says or does something to spark it. like clockwork.

bright headlights pierce through the darkness, momentarily blinding you as a familiar truck pulls onto the beach. your stomach tightens at the sight, but you force yourself to stay calm, laughing along with your friends as if you hadn’t noticed. even as the kooks around you start murmuring and shouting, announcing rafe’s arrival, you keep your eyes anywhere but on him.

your gaze flicks to sarah, catching the way her jaw tightens when she sees her older brother greeting her old friends with effortless charm. the tension is palpable. it’s no secret that sarah and rafe are far from good terms, and the thought of what she’d do if she ever found out about you and him is enough to make your chest ache. she’d hate you—no question about it.

and you didn’t want that. not now, not ever. so tonight, with enough liquid courage coursing through your veins, you’d finally do it. you’d end whatever this thing was with rafe. it was time. it had to be.

“hey, sweetheart,” jj slurs, suddenly draping an arm over your shoulders, his familiar, lopsided grin plastered across his face. the smell of alcohol lingers on his breath, and you can’t help but laugh. drunk jj was always clingy and affectionate, a far cry from his usual chaotic self.

“how are you? you good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, his blue eyes lazily scanning your face for any hint of something wrong.

you nod, patting his knee where it rests against yours. “i’m fine, jay. what about you? having fun?”

he grins wider, squeezing your shoulder as if to reassure you. “always. especially now that you’re here.” his words are lighthearted, but his presence, warm and grounding, makes the knot in your stomach ease just a little.

“don’t start something you can’t finish, maybank,” you tease, your tone playful, something that’s always been a part of your dynamic with jj. it was harmless, never anything more than friendly banter. jj was like a brother to you, and you both knew it.

his smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “oh, i always finish what i start,” he shoots back, his voice dripping with mock confidence. the comment makes heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself, and you nudge his side with a laugh.

“relax, jj,” you say, still grinning, but he just laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your reaction.

then his tone drops, more conspiratorial now, as he leans in closer. “can i tell you a secret?” he slurs, his voice low and exaggeratedly serious.

you play along, tilting your head toward him as he cups a hand over his mouth like he’s sharing classified information. “i’m so drunk right now,” he whispers dramatically.

a laugh bursts out of you, louder than you intended, as you push him off of you. “no shit, jay,” you say through your giggles, watching him sway slightly before laughing along with you. moments like these made everything feel lighter, even with the weight of everything else hanging in the air.

suddenly, the laughter dies in your throat as a familiar voice cuts through the noise, instantly tightening the tension in your shoulders. “i wanna laugh too,” rafe drawls, his tone sharp and laced with something dangerous.

your head snaps up, and sure enough, there he is, standing a few feet away with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. but his stare is locked on you, unwavering, intense. your stomach churns as you quickly look away, pretending not to notice.

“what are you doing here, rafe?” sarah asks, her voice cold as ice, glaring at her brother like she wanted him gone before he could stir up trouble.

he shrugs nonchalantly, though the slight clench in his jaw betrays his calm demeanor. “well, last time i checked, you don’t own the beach, sarah,” he retorts, his tone sharp enough to cut. the sunset casts a fiery glow on his face, highlighting the tension in his features. he’s angry—at what, you don’t know, but it’s obvious.

sarah opens her mouth to snap back, but before she can, jj suddenly stands to his feet, his drunken bravado kicking in full force. “what’s your problem, man?” he slurs, his voice rising as he steps forward, shoulders squared like he’s ready to fight.

your heart pounds in your chest as the energy shifts sharply, the tension coiling tighter with every second. it’s like the whole beach can feel it, the calm before the inevitable storm. you glance around nervously, noticing the kooks starting to make their way over, drawn by the brewing conflict like moths to a flame.

what had been your comfortable little corner with your friends now feels suffocating as more and more people gather, the divide between kooks and pogues growing thicker with every step they take. rafe doesn’t move, his stance unbothered but his eyes flickering with something unreadable as they dart between jj and you.

you can hear your friends muttering behind you, tension spreading like wildfire. this wasn’t going to end well—you could feel it in your bones.

john b, ever the peacekeeper, steps in with a steady hand on jj’s shoulder, giving it a calming squeeze. “hey, bro, take a walk,” he says softly, his tone measured, trying to de-escalate before things spiral further.

but jj shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “nah, nah, nah,” he says, shrugging john b’s hand off. his voice is louder now, sharp and angry, fueled by alcohol and pent-up resentment. “i’m so tired of these fuck-ass kooks ruining our fun. everything was fine before they got here.”

he turns to rafe, his eyes blazing with defiance. “so answer the damn question, rafe. what the fuck is your problem?”

the words hang in the air, cutting through the murmur of onlookers as more kooks and pogues close in around you, their postures rigid and ready for whatever’s about to unfold. the tension is suffocating, thick enough to choke on. your stomach twists as you glance between jj, who’s practically vibrating with anger, and rafe, whose jaw is locked, his eyes dark and unreadable.

rafe suddenly lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. he swipes a finger under his nose, his signature tell that trouble is coming. before anyone can react, he steps forward and throws a punch, his fist connecting squarely with jj’s jaw.

the sound of the hit echoes over the beach, silencing the chatter and gasps from the growing crowd. jj stumbles back, catching himself before falling, his hand flying up to his face as he spits blood into the sand.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” john b mutters, stepping between them instinctively, trying to keep jj from lunging forward. but jj’s already shaking with rage, shoving john b aside as the crowd erupts around you.

the once calm beach party turns chaotic, the tension finally snapping into chaos, and you’re frozen in the middle of it all, unsure of what to do as your heart pounds in your chest.

mayhem erupts around you as everyone starts shouting, the noise almost deafening. jj and rafe are swinging at each other, fists flying with raw anger. john b and topper try to break it up, but their own simmering tensions (sarah cameron) boil over, and soon enough, they’re throwing punches at each other too.

“alright! alright!” you, sarah, and kie yell, your voices cutting through the chaos as you rush in, desperately trying to pull the four boys apart. it’s a mess of flailing arms, insults, and drunken fury, but with the help of the other pogues and even a few kooks who seem equally tired of the drama, you finally manage to separate them.

jj stands a few feet away now, chest heaving as he wipes blood from his lip, glaring daggers at rafe. rafe, meanwhile, is being restrained by two kooks, his jaw tight and his eyes locked on jj like he’s ready to go again at any second. john b and topper aren’t much better, breathing heavily and throwing venomous insults back and forth as they’re held apart.

you step back, your heart still racing as the crowd buzzes with murmurs and tension, the air thick and electric. this was far from over, and you could feel it.

“yeah, stay the fuck off our side of the island!” jj yells, his voice sharp and unwavering as the kooks start retreating. rafe lingers, of course, making direct eye contact with you. his gaze burns, but you glare right back, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. whatever you needed to say to him was definitely happening tonight after the shit he just pulled.

“take jj to the chateau. i think there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” john b instructs kie and pope, his tone calm but firm. they nod, each grabbing one of jj’s arms to help guide him away. jj, still riled up, mutters under his breath about how much of a pussy rafe is, his words slurring slightly from the drinks and adrenaline.

sarah walks over to you, concern etched across her face. “hey, you okay?” she asks gently. her voice is soft, but the sincerity in her eyes almost undoes you. you nod quickly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over.

“yeah, i’m fine. just anxious,” you respond, your voice steady enough to sound convincing. it’s not entirely a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth. sarah offers you a small, understanding smile, her hand rubbing your arm soothingly.

“coming?” she asks, gesturing toward john b, who’s waiting for her a few feet away.

“i think i’m just gonna head home,” you say, your voice a little rushed. “my mom texted—she got off work early, so…” you let the excuse hang in the air, hoping it’s enough.

sarah nods slowly, her eyes flickering with a mix of understanding and suspicion. “john b and i can walk you,” she offers.

“no, it’s okay. i kinda need a moment,” you reply quickly, your voice firmer this time. you hold your breath as her gaze lingers on you, studying you for a beat too long. but thankfully, she doesn’t press it.

“okay, babe,” she says finally, her concern softening into a warm smile. “let me know when you get home, yeah?”

you nod, watching as she walks back toward john b, the two of them eventually disappearing into the growing shadows. only when they’re far enough away do you exhale, the weight of the night pressing heavy on your chest.

with one last glance at the party starting to settle back down, you turn and walk in the opposite direction, knowing exactly where you’re going—and who you’re going to face.

you make your way over to the truck, its headlights dim now but still parked exactly where he left it. crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the back door of the truck, waiting. it’s quiet here, tucked away from the rest of the beach where no one can see you.

the sound of approaching footsteps pulls your attention, and there he is. rafe cameron, calm and collected as ever, despite the chaos he caused. he’s holding a red solo cup against his cheekbone, the faintest shadow of a bruise forming. but even so, you have to admit—he doesn’t look nearly as bad as jj does. of course he doesn’t.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. the tension between you is thicker than ever, the air heavy with unspoken words. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you came here to do.

“i can’t see you anymore, rafe,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is firm, but you can feel the ache behind the words, threatening to betray you.

rafe doesn’t move. instead, a small, almost smug smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “get in the truck,” he says, his tone low and even, like it’s not up for debate.

your brows knit together, your frustration bubbling up. did he not hear you? or worse, did he just not care? “no, rafe,” you snap, shaking your head. “what you did today—” you pause, letting out a sharp sigh as the memories replay in your mind. your gaze shifts over his shoulder to the road, watching cars pass by, their headlights a welcome distraction. “you hurt my friends,” you continue, your voice quieter now but still steady. “i care a lot about my friends. and that shit you pulled back there?” you point toward the spot on the beach where the chaos unfolded, the tension still lingering in the air. “wasn’t cool.”

rafe follows your gesture with a glance, his expression unreadable. but when his eyes flick back to you, there’s something in them—something dangerous, something unshaken. he doesn’t respond, just waits, like he knows you’re not finished yet.

“why would you do that?” your voice cracks despite your best effort to keep it steady. the words hang heavy in the air, and you curse softly under your breath, furious with yourself for letting your emotions bubble over. you promised you wouldn’t let him see you like this—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. but now, the tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.

rafe’s face doesn’t change, his jaw tight but his expression otherwise calm, almost detached. it’s like he’s weighing his words, deciding what to say—or if he’ll even bother answering at all. the silence feels suffocating, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on your chest.

“are you fucking him?” rafe finally speaks, his voice low and steady, but the accusation behind the words hits you like a slap. you stare at him, wide-eyed, like he’s just grown three heads.

a laugh of disbelief escapes you as you shake your head, running a hand through your hair to keep yourself from losing it. “are you serious right now?” you ask, your voice teetering between anger and shock.

“are you?” he presses, his tone sharper this time, his eyes locked on yours, unrelenting.

“oh my god,” you mutter, another laugh bubbling out, this one laced with frustration. “is that why you did that? you think i’ve been fucking one of my best friends? are you shitting me, rafe?” you shake your head again, the absurdity of the accusation almost too much to handle.

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, his gaze still burning into yours like he’s waiting for you to crack. but you don’t—at least, not yet.

“well, since we’re just accusing each other of shit now,” you say, your voice sharp as a knife, “how’s stacy doing?” your eyes flicker between his, and just like you predicted, his confidence falters. there’s a moment—a flicker—where his gaze drops, and you pounce. “i assume she was busy tonight, right? that why you texted me?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” rafe snaps, his chest rising and falling heavily as he steps closer, his frustration spilling over.

“oh, don’t give me that shit, rafe,” you fire back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. your eyes dart away from his, landing anywhere but on him. “i saw you at the country club,” you continue, your voice cold, the memory still fresh.

his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence only fuels your anger. “and even then,” you add, spinning back to face him, your words cutting like glass, “what if i am fucking jj? what is it to you? you’re the one who said no strings attached, right?”

you see the way his nostrils flare, his jaw clenching so tightly you think it might snap. his eyes darken, and you know exactly what he’s thinking—the thought of jj seeing you the way rafe has, touching you, hearing the sounds you make. it’s killing him. but he won’t say it. not out loud.

“you’re mad, rafe,” you say, your voice quieter now but still firm. “but you don’t get to be. not after the rules you set.”

you push past him, deciding you were done—done with the accusations, the games, all of it. but, of course, you don’t get far. rafe’s hand closes firmly around your wrist, yanking you back toward him with enough force that you stumble. before you can steady yourself, you collide with his chest, the hard press of muscle against you taking your breath away.

his lips crash against yours without warning, rough and demanding, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. the intensity of it sends a jolt through you, but it’s not enough to freeze you in place. your fists fly up, pushing hard against his chest, trying to shove him off.

“rafe,” you manage, your voice muffled against his lips, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. instead, your resistance only seems to fuel him, his free hand sliding up to wrap around your neck, not too tight, but firm enough to hold you there.

his lips move hungrily against yours, his breath hot, his grip unwavering. you can feel the frustration, the anger, and something else tangled in the way he kisses you—something you can’t name, something overwhelming. your heart races, torn between wanting to fight and the way your body reacts instinctively to his touch.

you hated it. hated how easily your body betrayed you, handing itself over to him without a second thought. and the worst part? rafe knew it too. he always did.

he used it to his advantage every time, just like now. the second your resistance began to falter, the tension in your fists loosening as your body instinctively softened against his, that familiar smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. he could feel it—the way your resolve was slipping, the way the pull between you was overtaking every logical thought in your mind.

the familiarity of him started to seep through, clouding the anger that had burned so brightly just moments ago. rafe’s grip on your neck relaxed slightly, his fingers brushing your skin like he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t the reason you’d wanted to end this in the first place.

and god, you hated him for it. but you hated yourself even more. no matter how much you told yourself to walk away, to end it, your body always seemed to betray you the moment his hands were on you.

before you even realized what was happening, you were in the back seat of rafe’s truck, straddling his lap. his hands gripped your hips with bruising force, guiding your movements as you instinctively rolled against him. the friction of his hardened, clothed cock pressing against you sent shivers up your spine, a traitorous whimper slipping past your lips.

his breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he let out a low groan of satisfaction. you hated how easily he got to you, how the anger you felt just moments ago melted into something entirely different. but no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body moved on its own, craving the familiarity of him, the intensity only he could give you.

his hands move from gripping your hips to trailing up your back, his fingers deftly finding the string of your bikini top. with a quick tug, the knot unravels, and the fabric falls between you, exposing your chest to the cool night air. the intimate sound of your breathing mixes with the muffled noise of the distant beach party, but all you can focus on is him.

rafe wastes no time, leaning in to pepper kisses across your chest. each press of his lips ignites a trail of goosebumps on your skin, the sensation making you arch closer to him. his mouth finds one of your hardened nipples, pulling it into his mouth as his hand cups the other, his fingers teasing and rolling with practiced precision.

a moan slips from your lips, filling the still air around you. rafe hums in satisfaction, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin. his grip on you tightens as he continues, clearly intent on drawing every reaction out of you that he can.

“fuck, i missed you,” he breathes, his voice low and ragged as he pulls back just enough to let the words slip past his lips. before you can even process them, his mouth is back on you, his lips and tongue working their way across your skin, pulling a broken whimper from your throat.

you shake your head weakly, your fingers gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. “no, you didn’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling, the words more of a desperate plea than an accusation.

rafe pauses, his lips hovering over your collarbone. his hands tighten their hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he meets your gaze, his blue eyes blown out. “yes, i did,” he mutters, his tone firm, almost defensive, before dipping his head back down to kiss you again, as if he could erase the doubt you so clearly feel.

with one hand, he makes quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down just enough to give himself better access. his hand slips past the waistband of your bikini bottoms, his fingers brushing against your heated skin. the low groan that escapes his lips when he feels how soaked you are sends a jolt of heat straight through you.

“not surprising,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with smug satisfaction.

you gasp, your head falling back slightly as his fingers glide through your folds, gathering your arousal before starting slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the sensation sparks through you, making your hips instinctively rock against his hand, chasing the friction.

rafe’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his free hand gripping your waist tighter to keep you steady. “that’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with control. “just like that.”

a moan escapes your lips when his fingers pick up their pace, his breathing becoming heavier against your neck. “think that pogue could get you to cum like i can, huh?” he taunts, his words cutting through the haze of pleasure. before you can respond, his fingers dip into your entrance, filling you to where you feel the cold metal ring wrapped around his finger, while his thumb presses firmly against your clit. the double stimulation sends a shockwave through you, your hands fisting his shirt as you struggle to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

you bite down hard on your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction he craves, but it’s so hard—he knows your body too well.

“i know he can,” you finally manage to retort, your voice breathless but defiant. the second the words leave your mouth, you see it—the flicker of rage that darkens his eyes. his movements grow rougher, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to make you eat your words.

you sob out a moan, your body trembling as his pace remains relentless, refusing to give you even a second to catch your breath. “the fuck he can,” he growls, his voice low and feral, watching with a smug satisfaction as you struggle to keep yourself upright. his smirk deepens as he leans in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and desperation, swallowing your broken cries.

your hands cling to his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash through you, your body arching into his touch. his fingers work you expertly, his movements precise and unyielding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

“c’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “let me hear you.” his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.

you feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. the waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak. rafe keeps going, his fingers guiding you through every pulse of pleasure, not stopping until your body begins to twitch with hints of overstimulation. but there’s no tenderness in it—not that you deserved any, not after what you said.

your earlier comment still burned in his mind, fueling a fire in his chest, the thought of you with jj maybank making him see red. it wasn’t about trust—it was about possession, and rafe couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching what he considered his.

without warning, he grabs your waist and flips you around, pressing your head against the leather seat, your ass in the air. your shorts and bikini bottoms are gone in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed. you barely have time to react before you hear the sound of his zipper, his own clothes hitting the floor of the truck in a mess.

“you wanna talk about jj?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with frustration as he positions himself at your entrance, the heat of him pressing against you. “let’s see if you’re still thinking about him when I’m done with you.”

before you can process his words, he thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, punishing motion. the stretch is overwhelming, a cry slipping from your lips, quickly muffled as you press your face into the seat.

rafe doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, setting a relentless, eye-rolling pace that has your body jolting with every thrust. his hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips, his frustration evident in the way he moves.

“you feel that?” he mutters, his voice rough and breathless as he leans over you, his chest grazing your back. “that’s all me. no one else, you hear me?” his words mix with the sound of skin against skin, every syllable driving him deeper, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.

you nod dumbly, unable to form words as your body reacts to his every movement. a gasp tears from your lips when his arm snakes around your neck, pulling you upright slightly and holding you firmly in place. the pressure makes your head spin, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body.

the truck fills with the obscene sounds of wet slaps and desperate moans, each one louder than the last. your cries mix with rafe’s rough groans, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. you briefly thank your lucky stars that his truck has fully blacked-out windows, shielding this mess of tangled limbs and raw need from prying eyes.

rafe moans in your ear, his voice thick with possession, his breath hot against your skin. “all mine. no one else gets to have you like this.” his pace never falters, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge again, leaving you gasping and trembling under his control.

just when you think the pleasure is close to consuming you whole, rafe’s fingers snake down between your thighs, finding your clit with infuriating precision. he rubs quick, tight circles, the added sensation pulling a choked cry from your lips as your body jerks in response.

your arm flings back instinctively, your hand finding the back of his neck, clutching onto him desperately as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. his breath is hot against your ear, ragged and uneven, matching the force of his thrusts.

“fuck, baby,” he groans softly, his voice laced with satisfaction as he feels you trembling against him. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“rafe—“ you moan, your grip on his neck tightening as the overwhelming mix of sensations sends you spiraling, your body teetering on the brink. every snap of his hips, every movement of his fingers, pushes you closer, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you fight to keep from collapsing back into the seat.

your body trembles uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip. rafe grunts, his breath ragged and uneven as he feels you squeezing him, the sensation tipping him over the edge.

“shit,” he moans, his voice low and strained, giving one last stuttered thrust before he stills, his release spilling into you. the warmth of him floods your core, the weight of his body pressing against yours as he rides out his high, panting heavily into the crook of your neck.

the air in the truck is thick, the only sounds now the mingling of your heavy breathing and the faint hum of the world outside—so distant it feels like it doesn’t even exist. rafe’s hand loosens its hold on your hip along with the arm around your neck, his thumb lazily brushing your skin as he finally starts to come down.

rafe’s forehead, damp with sweat, rests against your shoulder for a moment as he catches his breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you trembling and weak-kneed. Sensing it, he carefully guides you to sit on the seat, his touch surprisingly gentle now, as if trying not to shatter the fragile silence between you.

but it doesn’t last long. the haze starts to lift, post-sex clarity hitting you like a wave. your heart pounds—not from pleasure anymore, but from the weight of everything that just happened. you don’t look at him, don’t say a word. instead, you scramble off the seat, your eyes scanning the floor of the truck as you rush to gather your clothes. the humid air clings to your skin, suffocating you, making it feel like the walls of the truck are closing in.

“y/n,” rafe starts, his voice softer now, but you don’t respond, just shake your head. You tug your shorts on with shaky hands, your bikini top still tangled in your grasp as you turn your back to him, your only thought being how fast you can get out of this damn truck.

as soon as you adjust your bikini top, you’re scrambling for the door handle, slipping out of the truck as quickly as you can. the door slams shut behind you with a loud thud, cutting off the heavy silence inside. rafe’s voice calls after you, his tone somewhere between frustration and confusion, but you don’t look back. you don’t even slow down.

his words echo faintly in the humid night air as you trudge across the sand, but you block them out, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you hated yourself in this moment—really hated yourself. how could you be so weak? jj was probably back at the chateau right now, an ice pack pressed to his bruised face, joking it off like he always did. meanwhile, you were here, tangled up with the very person responsible for putting him there.

it made your stomach twist. you felt pathetic.

the guilt gnawed at you, making every step away from that truck feel heavier, like you were sinking further into something you didn’t know how to escape. you wrap your arms around yourself, the night air cold against your skin, and silently vow—never again.

as you step into your home, the soft glow of the television catches your eye. your mom is asleep on the couch, the faint sound of some late-night show playing in the background. you pause, the sight of her peaceful face tugging at something inside you. quietly, you grab the nearest blanket and drape it over her, tucking it gently around her frame before turning off the TV.

you make your way to your room, your body heavy with exhaustion. pulling out your phone, the screen lights up with countless missed calls and texts—all from him. rafe’s name stares back at you, the words call me back and where did you go? flashing among the messages. with a sigh, you open the contact and quickly silence his notifications. blocking him would feel too final, too harsh, and you know it wouldn’t stop him anyway. rafe knew where to find you—where you lived, where you spent your time, even your favorite food spot. blocking him would only provoke him further.

you drop your phone on the bed and head straight for the bathroom, turning the shower dial as cold as it would go. the icy water hits your skin like needles, but you welcome it, hoping it’ll wash away everything—his touch, his words, the feeling of his hands on your body.

but no matter how long you stand there, no matter how hard you scrub, the memories resurface, unrelenting. the way he looked at you. the sound of his voice. the pull he always had on you. you press your forehead against the cool tile, biting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

how did it get this far?

the muffled vibration of your phone stirs you from sleep, the name sarah 🐚 lighting up the screen. groaning, you fumble for the phone and press it to your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “hell—”

“is it true?” sarah’s voice crackles through the static, sharp and tense, jolting you fully awake. your eyes shoot open, the confusion and dread hitting you all at once.

“sarah, what—” you begin, but she doesn’t let you finish.

“got it,” she says curtly, and before you can protest, the line goes dead.

you pull the phone away from your ear, staring at the dark screen as if it could offer you answers. confusion twists in your chest, but then you see it—a new message notification from her.

your hands tremble slightly as you unlock your phone and click the message. the screen shifts to a video file, sent from an anonymous number. you hesitate, the dread creeping up your spine like ice, but you press play.

the blood drains from your face as the video begins. it’s you—you and rafe. the footage is grainy, but it’s unmistakable. you see yourself pressed against the back door of his truck, his hands gripping you as you melt into the heated kiss. the angle shifts slightly, shaky and invasive, capturing the moment he pushes you inside the truck. and then—cut.

the video ends abruptly, leaving you staring at the black screen, your heart racing so hard you can feel it in your throat. you drop the phone onto your bed, your blood running cold as the weight of it crashes over you.

someone had seen. someone knew. and now sarah did too.

© aerialmirrorss