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lieslab · 2 days ago

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And at last I see the light

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Half-delirious and sick, you randomly tell Minho about your dream proposal and he takes notes.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I'm sappy and emotional. This was definitely inspired by Tangled. What can I say? I'm just a girl who cries easily and thinks about love a lot. Can a girl not ponder? Anyway, if you get choked up at proposals, grab a tissue or two.

_ _ _

The simple conversation was so long ago that you forgot about it. It was a brief moment in passing, just another random conversation, but Minho didn’t forget it. In fact, he’d been planning since then.

“If I were to propose to you, where would you want it and how would you want it done?”

The two of you were on opposite ends of the couch. Your body was heavy with the weight of a random stomach bug. Through the stomach aches and nausea, you were fading in and out of consciousness. Minho wanted to take you to your shared bed, but you refused. Too worried about making him sick, you opted to stay on the couch.

Every time he came close to you, you stubbornly held your breath and threatened to make yourself pass out. It was dramatic, but it wasn’t unusual for you, you always were. Too afraid of giving him the same bug, you did your best to keep your distance.

You didn’t get the exact wish you were hoping and praying for. At some point, you fell asleep and he covered you in a thick fleece blue blanket. A kiss was planted to the top of your sleeping temple before he strolled back over to the couch. He curled up on the other side and kept an eye on you.

The television was already on, but he twitched the show to something silly with cartoon characters. You needed your rest and he didn’t want you to wake up and stress out your brain by trying to follow along with a half-over plot. He picked out the most childish show and let it play.

When you woke up, you awoke to dancing shadows and the gentle vibrations of the leather couch. Across the way, Minho couldn’t help, but laugh at something that a character said. He grinned and kept his eyes on the flickering screen.

You caught his attention when you sleepily uttered his name. He quickly lowered the volume, got up, and rushed to get you water. You still refused to let him be too close, so all he could do was keep his distance and observe your stubborn self.

The conversations didn’t have a steady theme. He talked about one thing and then another. You jumped from topic-to-topic with him. You were about ready to fall asleep again when he asked you that question.

“Tangled,” you mumbled.

His eyebrows pinched together and he studied your face. Your sleepy eyes were half-lidded and a yawn tugged your mouth into a small o-shape. A smile grew on half of his face and he asked for clarification.

“The scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the gondola with the flying lanterns.”

“What about it?”

“Maybe not the gondola, but with the flying lanterns.” You nuzzled your head back against the cool leather. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful. It’d be the perfect memory.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, but you can’t propose to me when I’m sick. I don’t feel good and I think I’d throw up on your shoes. I think the lights would somehow make me nauseous.”

“You poor, poor thing,” he teased you.

“Mmhm. Poor me.” Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a sigh. He watched you slowly drift back to sleep with the cartoons long forgotten about. His brain went into overdrive that night.

Loving Minho was the easiest choice you ever made. From his quick wit to his loudness, it was the best choice. Not a single soul could compare and it was something you tried not to take for granted.

Whether it was arguing about who deserved the last pudding, or sitting in silence while Minho laid on your lap, your love was so simple. Life went on and the conversation erased from your brain, but it didn’t stop you from having moments when you watched him with a soft fondness.

Your body relaxed and inside your chest, your heart stuttered as your brain tried to capture those little moments. Sometimes, it was as simple as him leaning over the stove and stirring whatever dish he was trying to make. Other times, it was when he was bare faced and stretched out on the couch with one of his cats upon his lap.

His messy hair poked out in every direction from running his hand through it. After dance practice, his muscles ached and he just wanted to sit down and take a bit of time to relax. You usually joined him and crept over, snuggling beneath his arm to keep him warm. He’d whine and complain of your sudden presence, but he never pulled away.

He liked when you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. Just as you grew fond of him, he grew smitten with you. He joked that his love for you was like a pesky bunion that just wouldn’t go away.

Meanwhile, you compared it to wild mushrooms. You could try to stop loving him, but the love would keep sprouting up. Just when you thought there was nothing more to love, you’d turn your back for a brief moment and glance back to find another thing to love; another mushroom sprouted through damp soil.

Everything was warm and bright. In your eyes, everything was right and as the days turned into weeks, when those weeks burrowed into months, and began to roll into years, Minho knew he had you forever. He was going to take advantage of your sleepy-sick state and put his plans into action one day, but it never seemed like the right time. The two of you were always busy and time kept going, your love was an endless sea, but he wanted to make it truly official.

That wish came true when spring unveiled itself. With the chirping birds and baby bunnies, there was finally going to be a lantern festival. Rejuvenation, rebirth, and earth’s restoration; the perfect time to take the next step in your relationship.

“Wear something nice.”

“I always wear something nice.”

“Your constant state of sweatpants and hoodies says otherwise.”

“Fuck off!”

He just wanted you to look back at the video and be content with what you were wearing. The lantern festival was a rarity and you already had your best outfit picked out. You went through the entire routine of making yourself look good and then put it on.

It was a miracle that you didn’t notice the bouncing of his non-driving leg. He shifted in the seat a few times, but your nose was pressed against the passenger’s seat glass. You were going on and on about how excited you were for the festival, you always wanted to attend one.

You were unaware that the fate of your relationship sat in a small square box in Minho’s pocket. The weight of it in his pocket wasn’t much, but tonight, it felt like the ring he picked out was a thousand pounds. He kept glancing over at you and imagining what your face would look like. If it was ugly, he would be sure to tease you about it.

The two of you arrived twenty minutes before the lanterns were set to be released. Finding a parking space was difficult, but by some miracle, he managed to find an empty space to squeeze his car into. He grabbed your hand and headed to the area to grab a lantern.

“Are you getting one too?” You asked, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“No, I just want to watch you light and release yours. You’ve been wanting this, right? It’s your night to shine.”

“Well, yeah, but I thought you were going to do it with me.” You frowned and couldn’t hide the disappointment from your voice.

“Just don’t worry about it, have your fun.”

After grabbing the paper lantern with a tea light white candle tucked inside, Minho handed it to you. “Remember that you only get one wish, so use it well.” You playfully slapped his shoulder and took the lantern.

“Maybe I should wish for you to stop being a pain in my ass.”

“In your dreams.”

With one hand on the lantern and one hand in Minho’s, you began to lead him through the thicket of people. It seemed like everyone wanted to light and release a lantern too. Maybe it was the same reason as you, people wanted to make a wish. For others, it was a way to remember specific people and other loved ones.

No matter what the reason was, it made your heart swell with happiness. How human was it to long for peace? People had done this since the beginning of time and tonight wasn’t anything new.

Little did you know, Minho’s friend was tracking his location. The location sharing app had the exact path they were taking. A few people away, he silently followed with quiet footsteps. In his hand, the phone that’d be used to catch the proposal.

You wiggled through laughter and tears full of a yearning for loved ones. Tonight, no matter who was here, there was a sense of unity. You could feel the tethered string of your heart plucking at all the sights and sounds.

When you finally found a spot on a slight grassy hill, the two of you were only near a handful of people. Minho glanced over his shoulder and found his friend’s face in the reflection of a phone light. His friend quickly clicked off his phone, so he could stay hidden in the dark blanket of night.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked.

“I’m so excited!” You grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Ever since I watched Tangled for the first time, the floating lantern scene on the water has always been my favorite scene.”

“I’m sorry that we’re not on water.”

“Are you kidding me?” You scoffed. “Look at where we are! This is going to be so beautiful. It’s like we’re holding the stars tonight. For once, they won’t be in the sky, we’ll be capturing them and sending them back home.”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to get sappy over how excited you were. You were like a little kid as you rambled. Even in the dark, a nearby street light lit up the excitement in your eyes. He’d seen you excited before, but this was something entirely different.

His hand went into his pant’s pocket to make sure the ring was still there. His hand found the square leather box and his shoulders relaxed. He knew exactly how he’d do this, he was just hoping you’d say yes.

After a few minutes of talking, your arm shot out and you pointed across the way. “Look! It’s starting! We can light our lantern!”

Our lantern.

Minho said he wasn’t getting a floating lantern and instead of ignoring his words, you just assumed that the two of you could share the lantern instead. His heart ached with a love for you that he couldn’t understand sometimes. It was little things like that, it made him think he could love you until his heart gave out.

He reached into his other pocket, held out a lighter, and handed it to you. You held up the lantern and he hesitated. It was only after you nodded that he flicked the flame to life. He placed it back in his pocket and behind him, his friend came closer to record the moment.

“Come on, grab the lantern and make a wish.”

“But it’s your lantern.”

“Lee Minho, so help me, if you don’t grab on and make a wish with me...”

Across the way, flickering yellows and oranges began to fly higher in the sky. He grabbed the other side of the lantern and together, the two of you raised it higher and higher. After your arms couldn’t stretch anymore, your fingers let go.

You smiled as you watched it go further and further away. Above the people’s heads, above the buildings, and further and further into the night sky. Your eyes didn’t leave, even when it blended into a crowd of other lights.

Awe and endearment flooded the area. Shouts of joy and flickers of laughter. No matter what people wished tonight, for once, it felt like it’d be okay. Whatever hurt and whatever harm had touched people’s lives, tonight was the start of something different.

Every light had a story and each one was a flicker of hope. Into the air, into the sky, and over buildings. Tonight, you weren’t sure where your lantern would land, it’d be up to the universe to decide.

“So what’d you wish for?”

You began to spin around at the sound of Minho’s voice. “I wished for-” You gasped and a hand slammed over your mouth. A few feet away, Minho was down on one knee with a box holding a ring.

“Are you joking?” Your voice wobbled as you spoke. An emotional lump was forming in your throat. Tears blurred your eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” You vigorously nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “A thousand times yes!”

Before he could get up, you collapsed down beside him. He didn’t get a chance to speak because you threw your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head into the side of his neck as a choked out sob fell from your lips.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Why are you crying?”

“Because,” you weakly squeaked as you pulled away from his body. “This was my wish. I wanted our relationship to last forever.”

“I guess we both got our wishes tonight. My wish was that you’d say yes.” He chuckled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “Can we get up now? I’d like to make it official and put a ring on it.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled as you pulled your arms away. You allowed him to help pull you up. Your hand stuck out and he began to stick a ring on your finger.

“That might be true, but I’m your idiot.” He gently grabbed your ring finger and slid on the ring. “Now I’m your idiot forever. Come on, stop crying.” He wiped away more of your tears.

“I can’t help it, I’ve always dreamed of this. How’d you know this is what I wanted? The floating lights and everything?” Your eyes searched his, but all he offered with a soft hum and a shrug.

“Love is a mystery like that sometimes.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he slowly turned you around. “Let's watch the lanterns, shall we?” An arm wrapped around your shoulders.

With a final sniffle, you let your head lean against his shoulder. Everything was just as perfect as you’d imagine it to be. Nothing anyone could do would ever be able to top this moment.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and his friend gave him a thumbs up. He stopped the recording and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Tomorrow, Minho would make you watch the video and he’d tease you for your dramatic reaction.

Tonight, you were just two people whose wishes came true beneath floating lanterns and that was enough for him.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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wonderjanga · 2 days ago

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Swimming Lessons

Billy does not like water. He’ll drink it, but anything like swimming, diving, all around being near large bodies of water is an automatic h-e-double hockey sticks no from Billy. That’s why when he and Aquaman were assigned to the same mission which required them both having to swim, he frowned so hard his mouth almost slipped off his face.

Aquaman: *already in the water* “Dude, just get in.”

Marvel: “Can’t you just go?”

Aquaman: “We’re supposed to be a partners.”

Marvel: *sighs and very reluctantly lets himself wade into the water* “I hate water. I hate water so much.”

Aquaman: “Why? What’d water do to you?”

Marvel: “I can’t swim.”

That wasn’t the only reason, but it was a major one. Under the water, Billy couldn’t breathe nor could he talk, so that meant he couldn’t say Shazam.

Aquaman: “Oh, that’s no problem Cap! Want me to teach you?”

Marvel: “Uh… Yes…?”

Aquaman got a firsthand taste of how bad Marvel was and reaffirmed that he’d be teaching Billy. That’s how bad the Batson was.

Anyways, that’s how like a day later, Billy went to the beach. The day before, he and Mary ended up searching everywhere for some type of life floaties that could fit Cap because neither of them trusted Billy to be able to do this without sinking at least five times. They ended up just taking two life jackets and tying them around Cap’s arms and praying that would work. He showed up to the lesson looking and feeling a little ridiculous. It surprisingly only took about a solid minute of Arthur staring for him to figure out the life vests were supposed to be floaties.

Aquaman: “Cap, I don’t think I’ve seen a child past the age of five wear that.”

Marvel: “I’m sorry some of us struggle, okay?”

Aquaman: “You struggle that bad?”

Marvel: *super serious* “Yes.”

Aquaman: “Oh damn.”

*silence*

Marvel: *frowns*

Aquaman: “Look uh-” *trying not to laugh* “Why don’t you just get in the water and we’ll see how bad you suck at this.”

Arthur tried to use him going over there as a distraction to quell the need to laugh but uh…

Marvel: *tries to wade into the water and somehow comically trips, falls on his back and starts somehow drowning in shallow water*

Aquaman’s never had to lock in so badly until that moment. He knew his friend would be extremely embarrassed if he laughed so he ended straining every muscle in his face to not laugh. (Basically this)

Eventually, Marvel did learn. Granted, it took like four days, but he did it and the two went to get burgers after in celebration.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #arthur curry #aquaman

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kookinglikeachef · 14 hours ago

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remember that tiktok prank where the girl pretends to give her bf head but she put her hair up and grabbed a remote from under the couch he was sitting on instead? could you do svt reaction to y/n doing that to them?

Seungcheol

Cocky mf. The moment you’re crawling between his legs while he’s lying in bed, reading, he’d close his book and place his hands behind his head. On the inside you’re trying so hard not to laugh because Cheol really thinks he’s getting it SLOPPY ASF. However, you are giving him that look and he’s never been more excited. That is until you also pulled out your own book and laid beside him. A deep sigh falls from his lips and he drops his arms to his sides. To add insult to injury you have the nerve to kiss his cheek and giggle innocently.

Jeonghan

Would probably already know that it’s a prank because you tease and prank each other regularly. But a part of him would still fall for it. He’d run his fingers through your hair, thumb grazing the side of your face and lifts your chin slightly. That alone makes you want to forget the prank. But powering through, you bring your face closer to his growing bulge only to blow a raspberry on his stomach. Not the blow he was expecting. He’ll let out a breathy laugh and pretend like he wasn’t falling for it. Rest assured, he’ll tease you the same way next time.

Joshua

Unless you’re really trying to get fucked I suggest you sit your ass down. He will not accept that it’s a prank. You started it. Now you have to finish it.

Jun

Okay so, you jokingly get on your knees in front of him. Jokingly caress his thighs. He’s jokingly throwing his back. You jokingly take his cock out and into your mouth. And jokingly give him bomb ass head. He’ll jokingly cum. Then you jokingly tell him it was a TikTok prank. And he jokingly tells you that it’s your turn.

Hoshi

You already know he’s hype the minute you bend between his thighs. He immediately stops whatever he’s doing. There’s a smile on his face assured as he sinks back, arms wide across the back of the couch, and eyes closed. He’s waiting for something to happen, that sloppy top, gawk gawk, and it’s not. He doesn’t see when you go under the couch to grab the tv remote that you had planted there earlier. But when you get up, he’d open one eye, looking around confusedly, and you’re sitting next to him with your legs crossed, scrolling through channels. “Wanna watch Squid Game?” You’d ask. He'll say yes but his face clearly says no. You’ve totally shattered his heart.

Wonwoo

He’s gaming when you go into his room and suddenly stood in front of him. Moves his headphones slightly behind his ear and stares up at you and asks if you’re okay with a hand reaching for yours. When you crouched between his legs and he noticed what you were doing, he’ll blush and probably won’t meet your gaze, but he also wouldn’t question you any further. He’ll wait with anticipation for your next move. Until you reveal that it’s a prank, his face would turn red and he’ll feel a little ashamed.

Woozi

He’s already relaxing when you caught him working on music and mixing vocals. He’d start smiling and grabbing your hair and tells you that you have to make it fast. Then you go down and come back up with a pen, “was that fast enough for you?” You asked innocently. Just fucking blinks at you. And now he’s humiliated. Dignity? What dignity?

Dokyeom

Absolutely do not play in his face like this. He’s swallowing hard, palms sweaty, and breath hitching when he feels the warmth of yours so, so close to his crotch. He’s prayed for times like this. Waiting for you to give him the most gut wrenching, toe curling, finger bitting, eye rolling, ass clenching, soul sucking head he could ask for. Unfortunately that prayer would not be answered because when you grabbed a stray hair tie from the floor then joined him, he’s DUMBFOUNDED and covering his face with his hands. Ears turning red from embarrassment.

Mingyu

PLS you’re gonna have his big ass feeling like a damn FOOL. He’s like a puppy the minute you get down on your knees. The prank hadn’t even started yet and he’s already foaming at the mouth. A small noise would escape his throat the moment you bend forward and he’s basically pushing his hips into your face. You try to bite back your laughter when you pulled back with a chapstick you had conveniently put under the couch and plop into his lap. Hands on his face trying to get him to look at you again even though he was refusing. He’ll be smiling but he’s definitely annoyed. “Talk to me when you’re done being a tease,” he’d tell you before walking away.

Minghao

His eyes would be glued to you wondering what you were up to. So when you position yourself perfectly between his legs, he folds his arms with raised eyebrows. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Your little TikTok prank?” He didn’t have to clock you so quickly but just give him that neck anyways.

Seungkwan

BYE. He’ll get so mad at you for getting his hopes up. And then get mad at himself for getting his own hopes up. You give this man a hard on and then reveal it was just a little jokey joke, he’s eye-rolling and mean muggin you all day. Attitude on top of more attitude. Will completely and I mean COMPLETELY ignore your existence.

Vernon

Just sits there. You drop to your knees and push his legs open a bit and he literally just sits still, no reaction or anything. It’s so awkward cause you’re tying up your hair and making those eyes like he’s about to get that gluck gluck 9000 double handed twisted vacuum sealed super max deluxe. You look up and he’s just staring down at you like 👁️👄👁️?? Talking about some, “Y/N, get off the floor.” While pushing your head away. You’re like 😐 “really Hansol.” And you get up, so embarrassed. Now he’s really not getting the gluck. Then he’s so confused when you’re annoyed with him later.

DINO

Chan loves going down on you. But even more than that he LOVES when you go down on him. Shit absolutely destroys him. So he wouldn’t understand the prank. You’re warming up your jaw and when he decides to lean forward and kiss your forehead, you begin to feel bad for what happens next. You caress his knees, separate his legs, and finally lean in… to grab the couch pillow that had fallen on the floor. His shoulders slump and he looks as if he’s on the verge of crying when you explain the prank. On the outside he’s smiling but on the inside it’s just pain. Please give him the suck he deserves.

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viiolyns · 3 days ago

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abby anderson x reader

cw / somno. ass humping. kinda shit writing.

a soft moan slips past her lips as her small, perky tits press gently against your bare back; puffy, wet cunt grinding against the curve of your bare ass. you stir slightly, your eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected contact, but you don't wake.

you were asleep, and she found herself doing...this, she knew she shouldn't, but the urge was too strong to resist. she couldn’t wait any longer.

she hadn't seen you in weeks. recently, reports of infected had surged, with some even breaching the base's defenses. as a result, isaac had been sending groups out for extended missions, often leaving for weeks at a time. unfortunately, you were part of the last group chosen, and it had been nearly two frustrating months since you left.

frustrating for her and you, mainly her because she missed you like crazy, she loved you so much. you're one of the only people she had left in this fucked up universe. aaaaaaand because she couldn't fucking get off without you.

she wanted to deny the fact, she really did. and she tried, over and over, but nothing worked. not her fingers, not her pillow, not even the very few toys she had tried. nothing worked like you did, only you could make her come. it was humiliating, she couldn't believe she had been conditioned to need someone so badly. she was a grown woman not some child, and yet somehow you had found a way to have that much control over her.

now you were back, which was great. but you were exhausted, crashing almost the second you got back. barely giving abby any sort of attention beside a quick kiss and a promise to satiate her desires the next morning. but she needed more.

she needed you.

...even if this wasn't the right way to go about it.

her eyes are squeezed shut now as she pants, clit throbbing so hard it was almost painful. cheeks dusting a rosy pink as she heard the wet, sticky sounds coming from where you two were connected. shyness, humiliation even, eating away at her because she couldn't just wait a few hours for you to wake.

her nose was buried in your neck, breathing in your sweet scent with every shaky intake of breath. she bit down on her bottom lip, praying to whatever gods above to keep you asleep.

she eventually found a steady rhythm, pussy thinking first as she sped up, any self restraint she had long gone. your body racked with her harsh thrusts and, unfortunately for her, she didn't notice you moving just a bit too much.

"fuck." she whines, chasing that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. her hand comes up to palm at her breast, squeezing and fondling herself as she imagines it was your touch instead of her own. she presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck, leaving a series of dark bruises behind.

she’s not being very subtle right now.

as abby moved on top of you, her toned muscles quivered with each movement, sending shivers down your spine. her breath came in shallow gasps, each one a high-pitched whine on her lips. it was clear she was close now, so fucking close.

her grip on you tightens, her blunt nails digging crescents into your thighs. that’s when you started to wake up.

“the fuc—abby?” your words cut through her impending orgasm and she freezes. it's when you start to shift some more that she finally starts to scurry off of you.

“i’m so-sorry…you were asleep so..” she muttered sheepishly.

“i was, yeah.” you grumbled, propping yourself up some, taking in the sight in front of you. she was fully naked, tank top hanging around her neck. her braid had come undone, loose pieces of hair framing her pretty face.

you sat up completely, turning to face her fully. your hand came up to cradle her face. “why didn’t you just wake me up, abs?” god, she was mortified. her eyes didn’t meet yours, ashamed of what she’d done. “you know you could’ve.”

she knew this. she nods weakly, attempting to ignore the intense throbbing between her legs, getting increasingly wetter at the sound of your thick, sleepy voice. "didn’t wanna wake you. i’m sorry, baby.”

poor thing…so weak and pathetic. she couldn't help herself. not when it came to her wants, her cravings. she needed you, craved your touch, your control. you could see it in the way her body trembled, her eyes begged. "you just can't get off without me, can you?"

she nods, unable to find any words.

"you want more, don't you?”

another nod.

you lay back down in your spot, eyes closing as you edge back into sleep. "go on then. clean my ass off when you're done."

booooooooo. boringggg and rushed ending. i forgot about this account whoops

#dem's work. ౨ৎ #abby anderson #abby x reader #abby the last of us #the last of us #abby tlou #tlou game #abby anderson smut #lesbian #wlw

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moody-alcoholic · 2 days ago

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CW: Death, funeral, angst.

___

It’s not easy.

Christ why did he think it would be easy.

The room is mainly empty, only a few close friends and family. There’s no coffin, just flowers, lilies and forget-me-nots, some of your favourites. There’s a priest reading words that Simon’s not listening to, there's hushed sniffles and silent tears.

It was what you wanted, something small, simple, quiet. A stark difference from the way you really left the world.

Johnny reaches over and takes his hand, Simon lets him lacing their fingers together. They exchange a glance, Johnny’s face is puffy from all the tears he’s shed for you. Simon has to keep it together, at least here. You made him promise not to cry for you, to be there for the team, especially Johnny.

Simon squeezes his hand and Johnny turns away, his head focusing on his feet as the priest finishes up. Kyle is sat next to him and John is on the end, their hands resting on their knees, heads dipped, jaws clenched.

No one gets to mourn now, they’ll all do it later in the privacy of their own homes. After this they will go to the pub, raise a glass for you. Talk about their favourite memories, smiling and laughing. That’s what you would have wanted.

It’s not easy.

Music plays and Simon looks up to see the priest going over to your weeping mother, arms wrapped around her by your sister and friends. He bends down to pray with her, her sniffles cutting through the soft music. When he’s done he turns to leave through a door by the stage.

Johnny squeezes Simon’s hand, he looks over at him. Johnny brings Simon’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it, Simon quickly smiles at him.

“You worked with my daughter?” Your mum asks. Simon turns to see her and her entourage stood at the end of their row of seats.

“Yes, Captain Price.” John says standing up and extending his arm. She shakes his hand.

“She used to talk about you alot.” Your mum sniffs again trying to keep it together. “She loved her job.”

Simon feels the pit form in his stomach. Yeah you did, gave your life for it. All for the greater good.

“I need to know. The army didn’t tell me much.” A louder sob comes out her throat, she chokes it back. “Did she suffer?”

It’s like a knife to the heart. Simon looks away. He hears Johnny let out a breath, he can almost hear the quiver in his lip.

“No. She didn’t suffer.” John says keeping his voice level. He’s so good at remaining calm under pressure, so good at lying to people’s faces too. Simon doesnt think he could do it, not about you.

Guilt starts to eat away at him as your mother sobs, Simon sneaks a glance seeing John’s arms wrapped around her.

Why is it never fucking easy?

He looks away squeezing his eyes closed, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He’ll mourn later, later when he and Johnny will go home after a few pints and cry in each other's arms, in the bed they shared with you. It will hurt, it’s going to hurt for a long time.

That’s just what happens when love dies.

___

I have writers block bad. I'm just writing anything to get rid of it. (send help)

#call of duty #fanfic #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captian john price #ghoap #ghoap x reader #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap x you #cod

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s4nguiine · 1 day ago

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deep blue

capitano x GN!reader

» summary: capitano saves you during the war with the abyss and you get to know each other. sadly, things are not meant to be. the right person at the wrong time type deal

» rating: sfw

» notes: this is angst. it doesn't end well. capitano is such a tragic character, i couldn't write a happy ending for him. sorry!

“get behind me!”

hours has it been since the abyss’ invasion upon your homeland, and with all the vision bearers in your group defeated by the monsters, the burden was passed to you to protect the children and the elderly. although you are familiar with the sword in your hands, you tremble now in the face of your enemies concealed by the thick dark fog around you.

word has it the heroes and the outlander are going around helping people. if that is the case, then your caravan has to be very well hidden, for none of them have shown up to help so far.

you pray someone finds you. oh, archon, please let someone-

you are snapped out of your thoughts by a snarl to your left and you barely have any time to shift your posture and raise your sword. the strange-looking wolf clamps down on the steel, growling as it’s denied a bite of your flesh. you shake with exertion, feet planted firmly in the ground. soaked with blood as it is though, you end up getting pushed back.

you can’t give up here. you can’t let the creature topple you. you have to protect these people.

a pair of hands finds itself upon your back. you chance a glance back to find the very people you’re protecting watching you with equal fear and determination. more hands join that pair, and as they push forward, you are stopped from sliding backwards.

they don’t say anything, but you know this: you are not alone in this.

and with an emboldening yell, you grip the sword tighter in your hand and you push forward, slicing through the wolf’s jaw open. it yelps and retreats, and you’re about to cheer for your first personal victory, when a sharp scream penetrates the air. swishing around, you find a child raised in the air, held by a mighty mitachurl with an axe in its other arm.

someone yells out the boy’s name, but the sound is muffled against the pounding of your heart as you dart past the group of people, hand outreached to save the child. you’re not allowed to do this, however, as another wolf dives in from your side to close its jaws around your shoulder.

panicking, you dig your blade into its flesh and you swing it in whatever direction, splitting the creature in half and making it let you go. when your eyes are back on the mitachurl, it is raising its axe to cut down the people in front of it. you won’t make it. you know you won't. this powerlessness creeps up under your skin; the battle is over.

just when you’ve lost all hope, a gunshot echoes through the fog. the mitachurl releases its axe with a metallic clang and the claws around the boy’s neck go loose. your body moves seemingly out of its own volition, for before you know it you are lunging forward. the boy falls into the safety of your arms and you crouch, cradling him closely to shield him with your body.

and then you feel something warm spray across your face. you look up, and the hulking churl has been cut in half. as it comes tumbling down, you see a tall man standing behind it clad in armor you do not recognize. a helmet obscures his face, yet you know he is looking directly at you.

you’re tired and out of breath, but you grip your sword in your hand all the same and raise the steel blade against this foreigner.

he merely swings his sword to get rid of the blood stuck to it.

“stand down,” he finally speaks and his voice is so deep and gravelly it rumbles in the depths of his chest. “we’ve come to your aid.”

fatui soldiers emerge from the darkness. is he a fatuus then? unsure of their allyship, your weapon remains pointed at him.

“how do i know that you’re not one of those shapeshifting monsters?” you ask.

“have you ever heard them speak?”

you turn his words over in your head. he’s right, they don’t speak, and they certainly don’t kill their own. you lower your weapon at last and release the boy in your arms, who immediately runs to find his mother.

after a deep breath or two you manage to stand back on your feet to face the stranger.

he asks, “are there any more fighters among you?”

“i’m afraid i’m the last one standing,” you reply. your hand shakes as you sheathe your sword. the man places his hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention back to his hidden face.

“you fought well.”

you blink as tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly turn your face sideways to wipe them away. when the man lets go of your shoulder, you suddenly feel a throbbing sensation burn through your arm and chest. you wince and grit your teeth, hand coming up to squeeze the wound in search of reprieve. it does not help, and when you look at your hand, it is stained with blood.

the wound makes itself known once the adrenaline subsides and you have to sit down on a nearby rock. the man does not leave your side, instead now fretting about you, if you could call it fretting. he takes your arm and rakes up your sleeve to reveal something dark spreading through your veins from the bleeding bite.

“corruption,” he says, “you have to get that purified as soon as possible.”

“yeah, well…” your tone is dripping with sarcasm as you sneer. “i’m sure the doctors have nothing to do right now.”

you search through your pouch and pull out some bandages. it’s not perfect first aid, but it will have to do. “can you and your men turn around, please? i’d like to treat myself.”

the fatui oblige and you are granted a semblance of privacy on the battlefield to take off your upper clothing and bandage your wound with trembling hands. they don’t seem to stop even now as you’re kept safe by the group of soldiers. you clench your fists in an attempt to calm them, then you get dressed again and join the rest of the group.

“what now?” you ask as you stand beside the armored man. “who are you anyway?”

“now you’ll evacuate to the stadium. it’s safe there.”

“you? you’re not coming with us?”

he shakes his head. “there are still more monsters to slay.”

“i…” your mouth opens and closes as you weigh your words. “i’m not sure i can protect these people all on my own.”

“fret not. nikita!” a huge man clad in purple armor walks up to the two of you and salutes. “pick three men. you’re staying behind to help these people get to safety.”

“yes, sir.” nikita wastes no time in fulfilling his task.

the other fatuus turns back to you. “stay safe.”

“don’t worry, i won’t let your soldiers die.”

he looks at you silently for a moment, which makes you wonder if you said something strange. but then he wordlessly walks away and his soldiers, apart from those 4 he left you, follow closely behind.

“wait, helmet guy!” you call out to him. the fatui seem to recoil in shock at the nickname but it does have the desired effect of stopping the man in his tracks.

“helmet guy..?”

“thank you! for helping us.”

the stranger nods and then disappears in the dense fog once more.

“everyone, we are gathered here to celebrate a glorious victory.”

the pyro archon stands at the center of all attention, as she always has. the tavern is packed with people, all heroes, some greater than others. a bittersweet taste of victory at the cost of many lives lingers in the air. it is in true natlanese fashion that people celebrate not with tears but with alcohol, laughter and gratitude for their sacrifice.

you sit at the very back, watching as the orange liquid in your cup swirls around. you can’t hold this way of grieving against them, and victory does have to be celebrated. but as you mull over all that has happened, you find yourself lacking any sweetness. it is only the bitterness that you feel towards everything that the abyss took from you.

you finish off this cup, order another, and make your way outside to get some fresh air. the stairs seem to sway beneath your feet but you retain your balance as if you were completely sober.

the air feels pleasantly cool against your hot cheeks when you step outside. despite the battle that took place just moments ago, it smells fresh. everything is so serene. it pisses you off.

kicking a rock along the way, you sit down at the edge of the wall, feet dangling over nothing. somewhere all the way down you hear the gentle rushing of water. cheers, then. you raise your cup. to all your dead friends, to this nation of endless struggle, and to that fucking hole in the sky your archon blew an hour ago. you take a swig, and whatever spills down your chin, you wipe away with the back of your hand.

“enjoying the night?”

of course you’re not left alone for long. a deep familiar voice comes from behind you and thankfully you’re too drunk to get spooked. a slip is all it would take for you to die, which would be comical after all the fighting you did to stay alive.

“sure!” you slur. “enjoying, yeah. you could call it that.”

the tall man appears by your side. he sits down next to you, though he leaves some space between the two of you.

“hey, helmet guy. why didn’t you tell me that you were a harbinger?” you try to make out his face underneath the helmet, but all you get is a vague outline of a face in the darkness of the night.

“i saw no reason to.”

“no reason to? your soldiers weren’t very happy about the nickname i gave you,” you grumble.

“did they give you any issues?” he asks.

you ponder for a bit, staring off into the distance. “no, actually… they were really nice. it surprised me.”

whatever comment rests on capitano’s tongue, he swallows it back. this is not the time to be snarky. he sees it in you - in your heavy shoulders, in the lack of life in your eyes, in the slight tremble in your hands that you try so hard to contain. this loss has hit you hard.

“you’re like me,” he says after a long pause.

“how so?”

“you carry the ghosts of those you cared about in your heart. you grieve with anger and sadness - that’s why you’re here alone, just like me. the others don’t give themselves time to sit with sorrow but you do, because your heart won’t allow you otherwise.”

you clutch your chest, shirt wrinkling as your fingers dig into its fabric. a deep frown forms on your face. it’s ugly. you feel ugly. bitter tears well up in your eyes. “you don’t know our culture.”

“culture or not,” he says, and suddenly you feel the weight of his hand on your head, pushing you down into a bow, “you are human. just cry if you need to.” you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. a group of people walks past, all laughs and words meaningless to you.

he’s hiding you.

the tears can’t be contained now. you watch them drip down into your cup of alcohol, and a sob wracks your body, the last straw that breaks the sumpter beast’s back. you set the cup aside to hide your face with your hands.

capitano remains by your side, silent as you break the night’s quiet with your cries.

“what are you doing here?”

when capitano returns to the fatui camp after his research, he is surprised to see your familiar face surrounded by his subordinates. you’re all sitting around what seems to be a pot of some kind of stew, which you pour onto a plate along something that resembles a smooth dumpling.

it’s a puzzling sight indeed.

all the soldiers freeze and stammer to explain what’s going on, however as they talk over each other not a single coherent explanation is heard.

you merely smile up at him, and capitano feels something shift underneath his rotting flesh.

“fufu?” you ask, holding out a plate.

capitano is speechless for a moment. “what?”

“fufu. that’s what this is called. do you want some, harbinger?”

you roll the word ‘harbinger’ on your tongue like it’s some sort of plaything, and… he’s not finishing that thought.

“i’ll have to politely decline. can we talk privately?”

you hand the plate over to nikita, who’s sitting next to you. he speaks up before you: “if i may, lord capitano - is y/n in trouble? we figured inviting them to our camp would be fine, but… if there’s anyone to punish, it should be me.”

capitano sighs. “we’ll talk about that later.”

you finally stand up and follow the man to a more secluded area, kicking up rocks as you go.

“why are you here? are you not scared?” capitano says at last, after a good while of unbroken silence. his tone gives away his exasperation.

you smile and a hint of exhaustion shows its face through the facade. you take a seat on one of nearby boxes. “scared of what? the man who saved my life, or his subordinates who won’t stop talking about their wives back home?”

“both. this is a fatui base. under normal circumstances, your head would be separate from your body by now.”

“i also imagine that under normal circumstances the fatui don’t support other nations in war or comfort grieving drunks.” your cheeks turn pink as you speak and pick at your nails. “what we’ve found ourselves in is pretty far from normal.”

the captain watches you, you can tell despite not having a clear view of his face. he’s studying you, and it makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. you find yourself not hating the discomfort.

“why are you here?” he asks again.

you hold back your words at first, thinking them through before speaking them. “i just felt that it was unfair not to include your men in the celebrations. i figured a good meal could lift their spirits… as thanks. and yours, too. but they told me that you never eat, so i guess i should have thought of something else.”

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow at him quizzically, and when he turns his head to glance their way, so do you. the two of you get the perfect view of your men gushing about the food, some even fighting over a plate.

“i haven’t seen them this lively in a while. your presence is welcome.”

and you take his words to heart. the camp becomes your second home. sometimes you even sleep over. the fatui are kind, as strange as it is to say. nikita warns you that it’s only them that are this way, that the other harbingers’ forces are not so nice. you suppose it’s true - it’s not like you have any other experience. still, you bond with them - most of all with capitano.

there’s something about every conversation you have with him. he’s clearly a very intelligent man, but more importantly you feel like he understands. you take walks together whenever you can and you help him out with whatever he needs - truth be told, it’s just another excuse to be near him and to talk with him. you even like to think that he enjoys your presence as well.

you’ve caught the soldiers giggling at the two of you multiple times.

your favorite talks are the ones spent under the stars. something about the moon and the stars pulls at the strings of your soul, and neither of you can help each other from sharing your sorrows and joys.

“so you meant it back then… we both carry our own ghosts. though i suppose it is more literal in your case…”

you stand leaning against a wooden railing, watching as the sun sets over the horizon. the breeze that tousles your hair is gentle and pleasantly cool.

when capitano invited you for a walk together, you knew it would be different from the ones you usually took. he seemed more introspective, more anxious somehow. his shoulders, usually so straight and broad like nothing could topple them, looked just a tad heavier than usual.

and then he confided in you. told you that he’s khaneri’ahn, that he’s fought the abyss once before and that he feels a kind of connection to your homeland. you feel for him and for all the soldiers’ voices that he’s had to listen to the entire time. you feel his grief.

he must be so tired.

“there’s no need to pity me.”

his voice brings you back to the present, and you turn your head to face him, wide eyed. “ah… yeah. you know, not all compassion is pity, captain.”

he would usually correct you, say it’s “lord capitano” to you, but for whatever reason he doesn’t. instead he just lets out one of his ‘hmph’s.

you look back towards the horizon. “the sunset is beautiful today…”

“indeed,” capitano says, yet his eyes don’t leave your face.

“it’s hard to believe the abyss itself was here just a few days ago,” you smile, and when you look at capitano one final time, he’s suddenly much closer to you than he was before.

you freeze, gazing up into where his face should be. capitano’s hand comes up to cradle your chin and tilt your head, and for a moment you have the fleeting thought that he’s about to kiss you.

but he doesn’t. his clawed thumb traces your lips, and when he pushes down on your lower lip they part to make way for the shaky breath that escapes your lungs. he just remains quiet, eerily quiet.

“thrain,” you mumble. he suddenly sucks in a deep breath as if snapped out of a trance and lets go of your chin, stepping away from you. your own fingers trace the spot on your lip where his thumb was mere seconds ago.

“i… i apologize. something must have come over me.” capitano is panicking now, a state you’ve never seen him in before. he always gives off an air of absolute confidence, like nothing could shake him, his eyes pinned to a single goal ahead of him.

yet now you’ve captured his gaze, and it’s put a crack in his resolve.

“you should go home. while it’s not too dark.” capitano steps further back from you. “good night, y/n.” and then he turns his back on you and briskly walks away.

you find it almost comical, the way he flees from you, unable to stop yourself from chuckling. good night indeed.

but as you would find out the moment your body hits the bed, sleep eludes you for the majority of the night. by the time you manage to fall asleep, you’re wondering how he’s managed to do this for 500 years.

when you wake later in the day, you waste no time in rushing out of the house. you don’t feel hungry or thirsty, you just - want to see him. burning questions lie on your tongue. how long has he felt the same as you? would he accept you, if you were to accept him? your legs carry you all the way to the fatui camp, and your eyes light up when you find him.

but then you also spot ororon. you freeze. though he’s usually deadfaced with little emotion in his voice, he’s now looking rather panicked as he explains something to capitano. something’s going on. should you intrude..?

before you can actually do anything, however, the two of them turn to leave and you’re found out. capitano hesitates before finally making his way over to you.

“y/n,” he says. his voice is full of… something. you have a hard time identifying it. is it grief? is it want? is it everything all at once?

“what’s happening?” you ask. capitano and ororon exchange looks.

then, capitano speaks: “each of us have a part to play in this war. i think mine has come at last. to end it all, once and for all.”

“i don’t like the way you said that. where are you going, capitano?” for the first time, his helmet pisses you off. you wish you could look into his eyes, see what kind of expression he’s making.

“we don’t have much time,” ororon urges.

capitano lifts his hand and rests it on top of your head, which dips under the weight. he caresses your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“i wish we could have met earlier. but now, at least you can enjoy a lifetime of peace.”

something in you cracks.

“what’s going on? is this goodbye? if you’re leaving, then let me come with you! i have nowhere else to go anyway!”

he shakes his head and lets go of you. “i’m sorry.” without saying another word, the two of them depart.

yet the promise never comes. you’re left all alone, standing in the middle of an empty camp.

“thrain!” you yell after him. he does not stop. “promise me you’ll come back to me! please!”

heavy legs carry you up the stairs of ochkanatlan. though this place is normally off-limits, when ororon finds you back in the camp and tells you that you should go there, you rush over with zero hesitation.

natlan is a tropical country. yet now as you climb these stairs, you suddenly feel chilly and your quickened breath comes out in puffs of steam. somewhere deep down, you already know. you knew when he left, and you’re even more certain now. and as you finally ascend the final step and you see him on the throne, surrounded by massive crystals of dark ice, it becomes all too real.

thrain is dead.

yet you can’t bring yourself to cry. your feet remain planted in the ground as you watch his soulless body. his chest rises and falls but you know that he’s not there, it’s just the curse controlling his undead body like a puppet.

fate must truly hate you. is it your destiny to lose everyone you’re ever loved?

at last, you approach him. everything feels so slow.

“you know, i was so happy last night that i couldn’t sleep,” you say. “because it finally seemed that i would not be alone for the rest of my life. i thought that even if you were to leave, i would gladly follow. i’m sure many of your subordinates feel a similar way.”

there comes no reply. you cast your gaze downwards.

“i can’t hold this against you. you’ve fought for so long and… you deserve this rest. but what about me?” you bite your lip to stop the delayed tears. what do you do now, knowing that he loved you?

you wipe at your eyes and sniff. then you lean forward, grasping the helmet with your bare hands. you plan on taking it off at first, but ultimately you decide against it. if he didn’t want to show you his face while he lived then that’s something you’ll have to respect even after his life.

so you kiss his helmet instead. your lips meet the cold metal as the first hot tear runs down your cheek, and you crawl into his lap. it’s okay if you rest together, right? you’re not ready to leave yet. wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in his cold body.

just once, you would have liked to have been held in those arms.

#★ genshin tag #capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #genshin x reader

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loverboysturn · 2 days ago

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✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

#✮⋆˙ newboy!matt x popular!reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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hvnlygrl · 2 days ago

Note

congrats on your celly love! i’m sorry i didn’t see it sooner bby 💞

This would be cute as a blurb or moodboard but;

Prompt 4 “Accidentally saying “I love you”” with best friend JJ would be adorable and funny 💞💞

love me on accident.

pairing — bestfriend!jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 0.6k

synopsis — everyone knows that the two of you are in love, except you two. that is until an accidental love confession brings you together.

notes — i love this!! thank u for requesting babe!

moodboard based on this fic!

join my follower celebration — until feb. 3rd!

you were both drunk off your asses, clinging onto each other as you desperately tried to keep your balance. he held your waist, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. the two of you being physically close and relying on each other was far from a new sight to anyone.

this, however, was something much different. pope couldn’t help but notice the way the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, almost as if you were both longing for something. he was curious, but knew better than to even mention something of the sort to either of you, especially in your drunken states.

you could smell the mix of different alcohols on jj’s breath, his eyes glossy and red and the beads of sweat that lined the top of his hairline. he grinned at you, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “how you feelin, my girl?”

“a little wobbly,” you huff through a laugh, smiling back at him. “how you feelin, blondie?”

he rolls his eyes at the nickname you gave him the first time the two of you met. “i told you stop calling me that, it messed up my street cred.”

“oh, your street cred, huh?” you giggle. “i didn’t realize you had such a name for yourself in the obx.”

he scoffs dramatically at that, hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “ouch!”

“sorry,” you give him a soft peck on the cheek, “you totally have street cred.”

“thanks, princess,” he can’t help the way his cheeks flush red at the kiss. “you have a good bit of cred yourself.”

you huff at him, “oh yea, i’m your best friend, of course i got street cred.”

he laughs, heart pounding in his chest as you sway with him to the music. “you’re welcome.”

you give him a soft punch to the chest, “cocky, aren't we?”

“please, don’t act like you don’t love me.”

“i don’t,” you tease, squinting your eyes at him as he frowns.

“well, i love you,” he grumbles, breath catching in his throat when he realizes the tone he said it in. jj prays you don’t notice it.

“wait,” your eyes go wide for a moment, “did you just-“

“um, no.” he immediately starts stuttering, “that’s not, i don’t, no, like, i meant-“

“i love you too,” you hold a finger up to his lips. “i was waiting for you to say something.”

“me? why couldn’t you say something?” he breathes out heavily, heart still beating a mile a minute.

“well, why didn’t you?” you shrug, “i didn’t know you felt like that.”

“of course i do, how could i not?” jj says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you’re-you’re perfect, y/n. like seriously, the perfect girl.”

now you’re blushing, face tucked into the crook of his neck, “shut up.”

“no, i mean it,” he softly caresses your face, angling your chin so that you’re making eye contact with him. “you’re actually perfect.”

“so are you.” you can’t help but notice how close your face is to his, his breath tickling the tip of your nose.

jj inches toward you slowly until his nose is brushing against yours. you take the opportunity to tilt your head upward, letting your lips meet his gently. he freezes for a moment before kissing you back, one hand pulling your hips closer as the other rests against your jaw.

pope smacks john b to get his attention as he points at the two of you in your own little world in the kitchen of the chateau.

“holy shit,” john b whispers, jaw dropped in awe. “i never thought they would admit it.”

sarah rolls her eyes, “i did, pay up suckers.”

the pogues all huff, heads shaking as they pull cash from their pockets, grumbling soft cusses at their lost bet.

-> back to main masterlist

#follower celebration #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst

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daystarpoet · 19 hours ago

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•ྀ༅ cause when you're around, I find it hard to breathe ೄ

pairings: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader | wc: 1.4k tags: academic rivals to lovers status: requested. sooo here it is, loads of banter and tension. not sure if this is ooc or not, just wanted to write something good that met the request. this takes place while gray is still in high school. give this love and support cause it took me SO long to make.

grayson hawthorne. the seemingly perfect heir with the pristine suits, and carefully styled blond hair. the untouchable, unreachable perfect student, and perfect grandson. never once had him been seen anything but under complete control of his emotions. he got perfect grades, and had always been at the top of his class; until you arrived.

one quality you shared with grayson hawthorne was your constant push towards perfection—partially due to the pressure imposed by your respective families, but also because of your own desire to find an ounce of self-worth in your grades, holding onto academic validation as if it were your lifeline.

one tends to clash with the ones who one shares the most personality traits; maybe that was the reason grayson, and you so often found yourselves invested in arguments. sharing strengths and goals mean also sharing weaknesses, the pair of you were two sides of the very same coin.

sharing weaknesses, as in knowing the heart-stopping feeling of turning a freshly-corrected exam around, only to be met with a grade below expected. the dart of your eyes over the red number, over, and over, with the faintest hope that in one of those darts, the number will change; but it never does. that’s when realization hits, when the pit in your stomach opens, when frustration bursts.

every time this happened, grayson’s instant reaction was to turn around, to hesitantly try to steal a glance of your mark; to try to find relief in your failure, to find a slimmer of hope in at least having scored better than you. and you did the exact same thing; every single time.

you shifted on your seat, hands anxiously fiddling with your hair. you tried to take a few deep breaths in, hoping it would ease the pressure building up on top of your chest. you had tried your best; spent two whole days as a walking-corpse, whose only intention was to feed itself off of academic approval, instead of human brains.

you could only pray for your effort to be fruitful, for the teacher to take into account that physics was far from your forte. but quite honestly, if you were to be met with failure, it wouldn’t be surprising. the test had surprised you, the questions had been more complicated than what you had anticipated, which lead you to turning it in with not much confidence.

the urge to take a quick glance to the person seating two seats cater-cornered from you; grayson hawthorne. questions whirled in your mind, was he confident in his results? or was he secretly as nervous as you? not that you could read that off his face anyway, he looked far too stoic for that.

the teacher’s steps were slow— too slow. each beat that passed was one more worry that emerged in your mind, christ, couldn’t this teacher simply give you your grade—as bad as it might be— and put you out of your misery? whatever was to come, it surely was better than the agonizing wait.

you watched the faces of your classmates, how their formerly neutral expressions shifted according to the red ink marking the paper sheet— turns out a number with a circle around it mattered quite a lot. the results of your schoolmates could have been guessed with not much difficulty; after all, all exam results were pretty much the same. the more carefree students obtaining barely-passing grades, the ‘normal’ students obtaining regular to good ones, and then separately, grayson and you, with your ever outstanding academic success.

the click of the teacher’s heel on the floor right in front of you was quick to snap you out of your thoughts. eyes nervously darting from the teacher's hands, to her face, in search of any hit of victory. and after the long delay, the paper was finally placed on your desk, your future within your reach at last.

seventy-eight percent. while not being an inherently bad number, it wasn’t too great, either. you still could have done better, tried harder, this wasn’t you. even if this wasn’t as much of a surprise, being hit with reality was still painful.

the minute class was over, you did not waste a minute and packed everything up, desperately trying to burry that reminder of failure deep within your bag, and deep within your mind. allow darkness to consume it, and hope you will never be reminded of it. In the midst of your escape attempt, you were unlucky enough to bump into a certain blonde.

“careful when you walk.” grayson told you, silently raising an eyebrow at your unusual frazzled behaviour. he stepped to the side, allowing you to make your way to the door, his eyes flickering from your head to your toes during a fraction of a second. “not too happy, i see?” what was originally intended to be a passing comment on grayson’s side ended up striking quite the chord in you.

“and you’re just so above everyone else.” you rolled your eyes, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter, nails digging into the fabric. “sometimes, maybe” a sentence clearly made with the sole goal to spite you. “how bad was it, either way?” he asked, leaning a bit closer, his stature more prominent now.

“sevety-eight.” your gaze dropping to the floor, not wanting to spot the cocky look he was probably going to give you.

“eighty-four,” he replied, as neutral as ever. “lucky for you, we don’t have that big of a difference—a shame, really.” could this really be? grayson hawthorne being nice to you for once?

cordiality was certainly a rare occurrence, your usual interactions ranged from witty banter, to actual major arguments, neither of you could ever seem to make peace with the other. the worst possible scenario, however, was that one where you had to work together. though the result of your partnership was nothing short of impressive, your creative differences often clashed, making room for endless dispute, and waste of your priced time. the poor librarian didn’t even bother telling you to quiet your arguing down at this point, trying to ease the tension between you two had proven futile.

grayson sighed, placing his book down on the table, and taking a peek at the text on your computer. you were tasked to do a research project, and being the overachievers you were, you took it upon yourselves to find as much information as possible. “i really hope that text you just wrote isn’t filled with information out of wikipedia.” in all fairness, he knew you would rather be caught dead than base your project on unreliable sources, but he still felt the need to make a witty remark.

“no, grayson, i did, in fact, not use wikipedia.” you gave him a deadpanned look, which he didn’t even bother returning, and instead took his book once more, ignoring your glares. “just making sure. don’t want you risking our grade.” god, how could be so infuriating while at the same time look so calm, and composed?

“well, if we’re going to play that game, i really hope that the book you’re reading isn’t ancient, and contains no outdated information.” you turned your head around, displease clear on your face, and on the verge of snapping. you could almost picture the worn-out expression on the face of the poor librarian the moment you raised your voice.

only this once, grayson’s gaze parted from the words on paper, and instead focused on yours. even if his eyes only played a look of perplexity, there was something about the way they lingered on yours, pupils momentarily focusing, as the icy grey eyes took hold of you.

“stop staring, and keep writing.”

“i wasn’t staring—and i won’t work until you tell me what year that book was published.” you used your best offended face, only earring an eye-roll from your partner’s side.

“here it says…” grayson’s slim fingers flipped the pages over, until he was met with the first two sheets of the book, “nineteen eighty-five.” his words sharp, not completely pleased with your request. “something more modern would be better, but i guess eighty-five will do.” you reluctantly accepted, taking a deep breath in, closing your eyes, and releasing it— just a few more hours, and you would be done with this.

that was it, i guess. i have more ideas for this, but i simply couldn't bring myself to keep writing of how burnt out this fic got me. if you would like a part 2 of this, let me know.

#sincerely aimee ౨ৎ #aimee's writing #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne imagine #grayson hawthorne fic #the inheritance games #the grandest game #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne enemies to lovers #academic rivals #academic rivals grayson hawthorne

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ravetillyoucry · 3 days ago

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THE OVERTURE

hiiiii this is the writing I promised. LMK if you would like a continuation of their Thing because now that they’re Established they are very open to Situations and whatnot. No set story just a sandbox of Scenarios type characters. 😛 the Logic of the shrinking is inspired by The Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson- maybe they’re in the same universe idk we’ll find out later

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The thing that stood out the most about that night wasn't what had actually occurred, despite how impossible and surreal it was on paper, but just how hot the whiskey tasted before Cassidy came stumbling out of that bar and into the rickety old gas station on the other side of the street- that's what he always remembered when he thought back on it. It still burnt the back of his throat as he half-hazardously drove the block back home, almost enough to mask the taste of his stomachs contents as they churned their way up into his mouth, pooling and waiting until he swallowed back down with a shudder. He would've just walked it if he hadn't found what he did- or, found who he did. Drunk driving was one of the few crimes he was adamantly against, not just because of the needless risk it imposed onto the people of the hick town he hated, but because he cared far too much about the Chevrolet C/10 Cheyenne he'd spent a year and a half fixing up after his father died and left it to him. It was far too cold to walk a block home whilst drunk for who he had found, however, so he'd just have to take the risk and pray to God his truck would make it back without a scratch on it.

Cassidy didn't actually know who it was that laid, all shaky and damp like a newly born fawn, on his right thigh as he drove- but what he did know was that if he would have left him out on the pavement, bathing in the fluorescence of the gas station's neon 'OPEN' sign, he would be dead. To put it bluntly, the person Cassidy had found didn't seem to be human at all. He looked like a human, sure- with straggly brown, almost black hair that stuck in strands to his face with sweat, pale sickly olive skin splattered with freckles you'd have to squint to make out properly, arms, legs, eyebrows and eyelashes, an absence of any kind of beard, a nose, both eyes, a mouth and teeth too. Undoubtedly, he looked the part of a human man- or maybe a teenaged boy- but there was one, minute detail that threw Cassidy off entirely: he was no taller, maybe even a little shorter, than his very own pointer finger. The same finger in which he'd used to hold up the little man's head, that way it didn't nearly get taken off as he'd wrapped the rest of his hand around the man's form and taken him into his truck for the ride home. Cassidy had previously been against kidnapping too, but tonight, it seemed paramount to the little freak of nature's survival.

He shivered and he shook like the leaves he was similar in size to that surrounded his little body on the corner of the pavement, but the sight was comforting to the drunken Cassidy that took him home- if he was shivering, he was alive, and that's all he wanted to preserve in his fleeting act of heroism. It wasn't a long drive at all, and if it wasn't for the little man trembling like a wind up toy using every cog and mechanical part in its equally little body just to do as small of an action as take a step, or in his case, the rise and fall of the chest as he took in what shallow breaths he could, Cassidy probably would've found himself nose first into someone's letterbox. By some miracle, he'd ended up back at his house parked as perfectly as he could on the pavement, just fifteen feet from the front door of the little bungalow he'd bought five years back with what little money scraped together after the divorce. Cassidy may not have had his children, or his dog, or even the goddamn goldfish- but he'd say he had done a mighty fine job with the place, with or without them. Despite this, as he laid the tiny man down on a throw pillow of which he couldn't remember the origin of, Cassidy found himself doing a little tidying up whilst rifling through the kitchen for the hot water bottle.

Since the birth of his daughter, Cassidy had taken a vow to never handle a person as delicate as a newborn baby was ever again. He barely trusted himself to hold any of his children, at least for the first month or so, but he was better a man than to let his wife do all the dirty work after child labour. Now here he was, swearing to himself under his breath as he- drunkenly, with one finger at a time- went to cradle the little man in his hand, the most reasonable form of transportation in order to move him onto a newfound warmth. Cassidy hoped that in soon enough time, he would stop the shivering all together and wake up, just as he was when he found him. If he hadn't have been letting out such sounds of pure terror and pain, Cassidy probably wouldn't have found him lying there. He wondered desperately who he was, if a person at all- maybe an alien or some supernatural entity with fairy powers. Being a person seemed to be the most reasonable title for the man, but that left the question of how one person could be so small lingering along with it. It couldn't be true, Cassidy would rather believe in folk tales and conspiracy theories than what he saw in front of him: that a man sort of similar to himself in some capacity could be so incredibly small.

A part of him really, really wished it was all a hallucination- that he was completely wasted and imagining as ridiculous a thing as a thumb sized man fighting for his life atop of a hot water bottle big enough to fit two or three more of him by his side- but there was nothing more real than the dampened skin and hair that tickled against the grooves of his fingerprints, than all the components that made the unreal man so inherently humanoid. Even the laws of physics couldn't deny it- there was a tiny person in his house, and Cassidy had brought him there off of his own volition, his own deep rooted need to be the hero, even for just one night. It was safe to say he didn't plan on spending any sleepless nights with his ass planted on a barstool, neck-deep into a beer bottle, anytime soon.

There was nowhere in the world Adam hated more than Hutchinson. Nothing good came out of it, nothing good came into it. There was nothing good about the place at all, and when there was, it'd run away faster than he could catch it. He had decided on the night of his nineteenth birthday, he would run away too. He could chase after the good things, as fleetingly as they came, and be free of the chains that kept him forged to the shit-hole of a town he had lived in his whole life. As a child, he recalled hiding under the blankets and praying to God to make him an adult, to make him twenty-five and living in some place like New York or Toronto, in an apartment with his best friend doing a job he loved, surrounded by people that didn't know or care about who he was or where he came from. That was the plan, even after his nineteenth birthday had passed, and is twentieth, and even his twenty first.

Adam had vowed to himself that he wouldn't get to twenty two if he still lived in Hutchinson, even if it meant leaving his mother to fend for herself against her new, and yet identical to the last couple of hundred, boyfriend. He was sick of taking punches for other people, it was about time he took a few for himself, as long as it meant getting the fuck away from the place he was supposed to call home. So he did. All he needed was a backpack to hold every one of his worldly possessions, and then he was gone.

Three days, that's how long he'd been hitchhiking before something had gone terribly wrong. He'd gotten only two rides in that time, the first leaving him at some motel in Abilene, and the next... Adam wasn't an idiot, that he was sure of, but he'd fallen asleep by accident essentially seconds after fastening his seatbelt and settling into the backseat of the sleek white car. A 1989 Rover 800, he was told- Adam never really cared much for cars, but he could appreciate a nice one when he saw it, especially given how new it was. Surely, a guy driving a car this fresh off the market wouldn't risk getting blood and brain stuck between the leather of the seats just to rid the world of one more sleazy queer hitching a ride for no longer than an hour or two, so Adam felt it safe enough to rest his eyes, even if just for a moment.

If he was half dead and half naked on the side of the street, he'd probably be far less panicked than he was right now. At least then he'd be able to sort of decipher what happened to him, where he was and how he could recover from it- but as he lay, fully clothed yet freezing cold on some sort of endless plain of concrete- he realised he had no idea what could have lead to his current predicament. Adam had no recollection of how he could have ended up here- he couldn't even recall how much time had passed from when he must have fallen asleep in the back of that strangers car to that very moment- but that didn't really matter, not then, at least. No, there were far, far bigger things for him to worry about.

If he was drugged, he didn't remember it, although he assumed he must have been given the sight he saw right in front of his eyes. Out of it wasn't the right descriptor for how Adam felt- he was aware, more so than usual, and he could perceive the depth of the world around him as acutely as he could whilst sober. It was impossible to see what he was seeing, but there was no other explanation- not only were there leaves and cigarette stubs as long as he felt tall at either of his sides, but there was a boot big enough to snub him out just as effortlessly, attached to a leg taller than he could comprehend, attached to a man taller than life itself. Adam couldn't hear for how hard his heart was beating, but he could tell from the dry rawness of his throat after the fact that he was screaming. Who wouldn't have been? He'd never felt such sheer terror in his life- even when faced with boys he once knew from high-school and their newly earned gun licenses, paired with their father's rifles in the back of their pickup trucks- Adam had never been so fearful for his life, until now.

Before he could see much else of the man the leg and the boot branched up to be, Adam had fainted with fear. He was eight years old again, the only thing visible through the patchwork sheet he'd had on his bed since he was a baby being the warm orange glow of the overhead light that he wasn't supposed to have turned on after he was put to bed. Maybe this was it, maybe Adam had woken up to be twenty five, and maybe the corner he had awoken upon was right outside of his city apartment. Maybe he'd fallen down the stairs and hit his head, blacking out for no longer than thirty seconds, having no worse than a concussion, being able to return to the life he'd always dreamed of.

It was apparent that none of the above was his reality when Adam awoke for a second time. At least it wasn't so cold, and at least the surface he laid across wasn't quite as uncaring as the concrete pavement, though not much less. The weight of his body sank into the silicone, forming an indent that did no good for his back, but was comfortable enough to not want to sit up from regardless. He made sure to wait a moment before opening his eyes, to listen to his surrounding, to gauge whereabouts he could possibly be just from every other sense but sight that he possessed. Unfortunately, by the end of his hardly thorough investigation, Adam had concluded that he still knew absolutely nothing about where or when in the world he was, and he'd just have to look and see for himself if he wanted to know any better.

His visual surroundings didn't clue him in much more than he'd already gathered, although they made one thing more apparent than ever: he was small. Not just small, in fact, he was tiny. Smaller than the half empty glass of water beside him, smaller than whatever it was he was laid upon, smaller than the handkerchief draped around him like a blanket, but most importantly- far, far smaller than the man sat in front of him. Screaming was no longer an option, he'd lost his voice by this point, but he could certainly stare up with his mouth agape and his pupils shrunken just as his whole body had become. The man didn't say much at first- for a minute or so, he didn't say anything at all. He just stared with equally as wide eyes as Adam's own, mirroring his expression, except with far more wonder and curiosity than the fear captured upon Adam's fingerprint sized face.

A million different questions flurried through his head- where was he, what was the date and time, was he just really small or was the man from some unknown, mythological giant realm? Now wasn't the time for questions, however. Adam couldn't think straight, let alone see clearly, or speak a word of English. Maybe he hadn't just shrank, no, it could be far worse than that. With how stiff and rigid his body felt, the most logical answer to Adam's new form was that he must be some sort of ornament or action figure. The thought was almost a nice one- that someone would want to keep him up on a mantle piece, pretty enough to be looked at, but too pretty to be touched in case he shattered into a thousand, even smaller glass pieces across the hardwood floor. That must be it- it had to be.

If he was going to be a display piece for the rest of his inanimate life, Adam thought he might as well get to know the house he'd be living in, and who would come and dust him off every now and again when said house called for some spring cleaning. The face of the man in front of him was one Adam recognised. He didn't know him personally, God no, he was certain he was far enough away from Hutchinson to see anyone who knew him as well as he knew them- but he knew what kind of man stood, or, more accurately crouched and bent down, before him. Your average small-town, mid-western, middle aged, pick-up truck owning hick with half of his brain located in his mullet and matching dickies cap- or, alternatively, cowboy hat.

Whilst the man didn't quite have the haircut, or matching sideburns and handlebar looking moustache the kinds of men Adam knew from his hometown sported, he certainly carried himself like a Hutchinson guy. A forever furrowed brow hiding behind strands of unwashed, uncut and uncombed brown-grey hair, a dirty button-up with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, calloused, hairy hands and equally as hairy arms. The type of men that would run him out of bars and off the road if they knew a man like Adam even so much as glanced in their direction for a second too long. Either way, none of what he had left behind in Hutchinson mattered anymore, and the topic soon left his mind when said giant man began to speak.

Cassidy thought it'd be best to let the little guy get whatever he had on his chest right off of it in the form of panicked yells and cries of confusion, but the longer he stared with vacant, glossy eyes- as if he were not in this world entirely, completely absent with just his physical form left behind- he decided it'd probably be best to give him some sort of explanation to what exactly he was doing here and who had brought him to this point. He was owed that much. He opened his mouth to speak, but in all honestly, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. What could he say? 'Hi, sorry I kidnapped you, you're in my house and I'm willing to help you return back to whatever fairy door you crawled out of once you're back to health'? No matter what Cassidy said, he knew it probably wouldn't be the best, or even the right thing to come out with given just how bizarre the circumstances were. Instead of mulling it over in his head for any longer, he decided he was better off just getting on with it and praying he didn't offend the small man and end up with a cursed bloodline for generations to come.

"Look," He started with a sigh, instinctively moving to shield his face with a thumb driving between his brows. "You're scared, you're in some unknown place with a... Well, fuck. With a fucking- giant you don't know," God. This would've been much easier if he weren't also drunk. "But, listen, I'm not gonna-hurt-cha. Okay? I wouldn't have fuckin'.. Destroyed my kitchen looking for that hot water bottle you're all cozied up on for'ya. If you understand what I'm 'tryna tell 'ya, nod your head."

And by some miracle, after a brief moment, the little man nodded his head. Not only was he a real, living breathing person, but he could understand Cassidy. They could communicate. For the first time in a long time, a rush of some unfamiliar relief and excitement crashed against his body like an incoming wave. It was something worth celebrating.

"So you understand me." Cassidy smiled wide, the small gesture of a nod from the little man bringing as much joy as hearing his own children utter their first words. Now he was sort of grateful he was at least a little sloshed- the highs were way higher this way. "That's great, that's really, really good. You don't know how relieving that is, Jesus Christ, alright. I get it if you're.. too frightened to talk or, if you can't talk at all- that's alright by me- just,"

His head throbbed, a dull, rhythmic pounding causing his stomach to churn and his eyes to water. Cassidy had almost forgotten why he ever decided to get sober.

"I'm gonna go... to the bathroom. Stay there, you've probably caught a cold at the very least with how I found you. Just, don't move. Rest up. It's late enough." By this point, his speech was slurred and his head was reeling. If he didn't take some ibuprofen in the next sixty seconds, Cassidy was sure he'd drop dead right there.

Weirdly, as he rushed off to his own bathroom and locked the door behind him, he felt the same kind of fast bumping in his chest as he did when he was feeling particularly nervous. He had no reason to be nervous at all- he was in his own home, having brought the little man in by his own volition- but nevertheless, here he was hiding out and washing his face by the sink like a teenaged girl on her first date. It would've been more humiliating hadn't he noticed just how dirty his hands were in that moment, the underneath of his fingernails being black with grit and grime he'd picked up throughout the day. Oh God, he'd held the man in these hands, he'd probably dirtied his little clothes and skin with his lack of basic hygiene.

Dampened hands scrubbed at the aged face they belonged to, no wrinkle and scowl line going untouched as Cassidy pulled and squeezed his skin, hoping to sober himself up at least a slight bit before going back out to address the elephant in the room. He didn't notice the droplets of water from his beard as they fell into the sink, he stared back at himself through the clouded, de-silvered glass of the mirror for far longer than he had intended to. This couldn't be a lucid dream, the reflection in front of him was far too accurate, too familiar to be mustered up by his unconscious subconscious mind. Cassidy took a deep breath through his nose, which proved to be a mistake once the water dripping down his face blocked his airways as he keeled over with a splutter, desperately pinching at his nostrils in an unnecessary state of panic. What he really wanted was to pass out on his bed, shoes on and all, but he couldn't. Pushing the stray strands that stuck to his forehead back, Cassidy hoped to God that the little guy did as he was told and stayed put.

Cassidy stumbled down the hallway with newfound clarity- he wasn't sure what specifically he would do in regards to the scientific anomaly sitting in his living room, but he was absolutely certain things would work out just fine. With time, he could learn where the man is from and take him back home to his family, or- in the case of which he didn't have a family at all- he could turn him in to a group of doctors or scientist that would foam at the mouth upon being given the opportunity to study such an impossibly small individual. The latter wasn't Cassidy's favourite option, but he was entirely certain that they would do a far better job at caring for the man than he would ever be able to do, so that gave him some peace of mind when mulling it over.

There would be bumps along the road, Cassidy was fully aware of that, but what he hadn't predicted was that they would come so soon after the journey had just began. Turning the corner at the end of the hallway, one small and yet remarkably alarming detail instantly caught his eye- there was no little man atop of the hot water bottle. He wasn't standing around on the coffee table, or lounging on the throw pillow Cassidy had laid out for him previously- of course he wasn't, the jump from the table to the couch was far too wide for a man of his size- and from what he could see, he wasn't on the floor nearby his feet either.

This couldn't be good, none of this could be good. Cassidy went to call out the little man's name, but he soon realised he didn't know what it was to do so. Panicking wouldn't do anyone any good, the man had probably run off due to being so scared in the first place, ranting and raving and raising his voice would only worsen their predicament. Before making any rash decisions, Cassidy let out a slew of curses under his breath, freshly slicked back hair forming into clumps in his hands as he racked through a series of options he had. He could freak out and scare the poor thing to death, or he could calmly go about finding him across the- what he previously thought to be a relatively small- expansive bungalow floors. The absurdly little legs of the man couldn't have carried him off too far, surely.

At first, Adam was going to comply completely with whatever he was told. His body was far from the appropriate state to cause a scene or go into any kind of frenzy, despite how badly he wanted to do either of those things, and it wasn't like he stood a chance against the giant either- he wouldn't have even if he was at his full height and in peak physical condition. Adam wasn't exactly sure what specifically made him change his mind, but the moment the sink started to run in the next few doors over, well, he got up and ran too.

Where he would go from here wasn't something he had thought about, his body overtaken with the fatal combination of fear and adrenaline, causing him to jump straight down from the coffee table and onto the rug below. Falling from an equivalent height at his normal size would've left him with a pair of broken legs at the very least, but as Adam's shrunken figure bounced about a dozen equally shrunken feet across the carpeted floor, he realised he couldn't feel even the slightest bit of pain- at least, not anything he hadn't already felt after waking up. Without wasting a second, he pushed himself up off of his stomach, slightly winded but ultimately unharmed, and began walking towards a goal he wasn't certain of just yet. The fibres of the rug reached about half way up his calf, with each step through the meadow of multicoloured threads being just as painfully difficult as the last. It was like trying to walk directly through a hedge- the microscopic branches, leaves and thorns clinging to the fabric of his tattered pants, creating a clinging static that tried to pull him back down onto his knees every time he tried to move forward.

Adam would always be far more stubborn than sorry, he'd come to realise that by the time his treacherous, tedious journey through the rug had concluded. Having stable grounds to stand on was not something he originally pictured himself being grateful for when planning his getaway from Hutchinson, but by God did he want to kiss the hard wood panelling beneath him the moment his socked feet landed flat against the floor. A moment of bliss, pure unfiltered and unbridled joy. Adam could stand still and straight in this giant world, albeit fleetingly. As short lived as it was, he wouldn't forget how happy he'd felt, even as the ground began to tremble with soft, yet steadily incoming footsteps. So, the giant was the owner of the boots Adam had taken notice of before after all. There was no time to sit and stare at the craftsmanship heading towards him, Adam didn't want to be yelled at- or worse, but mostly he feared being yelled at, at least in the moment- for directly going against the giant's wishes, so he did the only thing he could think of doing in the split second he had to take a thought process into account with his decisions.

The couch was elevated about three inches off the ground, meaning Adam barely had to lower his head in order to run straight under it. He knew all too well of how disgusting the underneath of sofas could get, but he hadn't expected it to hit him so hard at such a size. Dust and grime flew up into the air like sand in a desert as he skidded to a halt on his heel- if he wasn't being looked for in the moment, he wouldn't have tried to hard to hold back the coughs and splutters that sat in his chest.

"Hey, where'd you go?" The voice wasn't nearly as gruff as it was before, and the delivery of each word was surprisingly coherent, even through the layers of cushions and fabric it had to break through to get to Adam's tiny ears.

With eyes shut tight, Adam held his breath, one hand over his mouth, the other rubbing his irritated eyes as they threatened to spill over with tears. Even if it was just due to the dust, crying would be giving in. Adam hadn't cried in years, and he wasn't about to let a little completely illogical supernatural interference change that.

"You're already in bad shape, and I can't imagine wherever you've run off to will do you any favours." Loud creaking in the floorboards followed by brief yet powerful thuds not too far away suggested he was kneeled down now, clearly searching for him. Another thud- a hand, resting right beside the couch. Big enough to encase Adam entirely, yet not too big to slide under and into his hiding spot.

He regretted his choice before, but now- Adam was certain it was the last decision he'd ever get to make. The giant won't have any sympathy for him after such a blatant display of disobedience, surely not.

A grumble. Low and chesty, congested enough to sound almost like a growl to paranoid ears. "I'm trying to help you here. Please. Let me help you, will 'ya? That's all I'm trying to do."

Adam fully expected his words to come out all frustrated and angry, but instead, the giant sounded sort of hurt. He was pleading.

It was around now Adam had forgotten he'd been holding his breath entirely, his body desperately gasping the filthy air of the sofa's underside. He choked on his own breath, a tear rolling down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose as he bent over into a tiny, crumpled pile on the ground. If the giant was speaking, Adam wasn't listening, far too focused on the scratching of his dry throat as he gasped for some sort of clean air. Things were probably better working out this way- it was either get caught now or go forward with the nonexistent escape plan, and the latter of the two seemed so illogical and impossible that Adam would have ended up having died trying. What could he do anyway-? Open the front door and walk out? Scale fifty feet up the wall and drop down from the same height out the window? He was fully aware of his own stupidity, skating through his years in education by just barely clinging on to passing grades by the skin of his fingers, but he thought himself to have at least some amount of common sense somewhere within him.

No matter how badly Adam wanted to crawl out from his hiding place and accept whatever soft comfort or lashings that awaited him, the magnet that was the core of the earth kept him completely still- paralysed and grounded in place with fear of what was to come. What if it was all just an act, a rouse to get him to trust the giant, that way it hurts far more when the real intentions behind Adam's presence here came to light-? He couldn't think about it, especially not when the dust had already sent tears streaming down his cheeks, because now he couldn't tell if he was actually crying or not. It didn't really matter, he supposed, since it all looked the same anyway.

There were very rare times in Cassidy's life in which he'd felt so desperately helpless. He didn't like to think of them, he didn't associate with the person he once was, with the person that once felt that way. It was funny in a sick sense, that he was the one on his knees, calling out in a barely disguised frenzy for a man barely taller than his thumb. Holding him may have been frightening, a daunting task that quite literally put his life in Cassidy's hands, but the thought that he might be doing something good here made it worth the nerves. He cursed to himself. Of course, he was shit out of luck when it came to opportunities that proved to even just himself that he could be good. He'd been a terrible host, he ran off from the man about three sentences in and didn't even offer him anything to drink. No wonder he ran off too. Cassidy would've given himself a well deserved punch in the face if his fists weren't occupied, stuck to the ground with the weight of all the pressure he put into balling them up, hoping it'd stabilise every other part of himself by extension.

He'd almost given up entirely- having chalked the man up to being a figment of his drunken imagination after all- when he heard it. Just barely. To his left, a sound no louder than a squeak. It was him. Without wasting a second, Cassidy acted before he could think of the best course of action. He sat up from his knees, lifting the raggedy old couch with a single arm.

"What are you doing under there?" Cassidy didn't mean for it to come out so hushed and whiny, but it did just that.

Now that he could see the little man with the overhead light beaming on him- his own nerves not making him look everywhere but at his face this time around- Cassidy realised how sick he really was. Big wet eyes with even bigger circles beneath them, red nose and cheeks that had become damp with tears, his tiny body wracking with either fear or the cold, Cassidy wasn't sure which it was though.

He let out a low tut, his mouth turning to a line. "If you hadn't gotten sick before, you definitely will have now. I don't remember the last time I hoovered under there, come on out now."

Thank God there wasn't a language barrier between the two, they'd figured that part out already. After a brief moment of silent staring, the tiny man fulfilled Cassidy's request, tumbling out from under the couch with a slight limp. Had he hurt himself? Now wasn't the best time to play doctor, not after Cassidy had been hidden away from once before, not to mention how clumsy he got after drinks. It'd have to wait until the morning. Either way, any injury the man might have sustained didn't seem to slow him, and before his arms had started to ache, Cassidy was able to lower the couch back to its original position.

There it was again. Another sound that could've very easily been missed hadn't Cassidy been listening. He spoke, his little voice clearly strained, but one word: "Sorry."

If he were sober, Cassidy wouldn't have found the word quite so entertaining, so satisfying, just so pleasant as he did. The fact the word was an apology didn't matter- Cassidy wasn't mad, he wasn't even annoyed. The only thing left was the satisfaction of hearing his voice, of seeing him- for the most part- safe and sound, still in the house, where Cassidy knew he would end up alright in the end.

"So, you talk." If he were sober, Cassidy would've also felt like an idiot as he manoeuvred from his knees to lying on his stomach in his own home, on his own floor. Even if his face was small, Cassidy could still see the blank look of confusion plastered across it. He supposed he should elaborate on what he'd actually just been told rather than focusing on the obvious.

"You don't have to be sorry. I just don't want y'getting hurt, that's why I picked you up off the side of the street." Cassidy really wanted to reach out in that moment- to give a reassuring pat or something of the sort- but he didn't have the guts. He was far too afraid of his own strength.

Instead, Cassidy watched as the cogs turned in the little man's head. A tiny furrowed brow and open mouth as he processed the words that had just been spoken to him. "Side of the street..? What- what street? Where in the world?"

Cassidy frowned. The poor guy didn't know where he was or how he got there at all, did he? "Uh, Ottawa..?"

The tiny man wasted no time to interject, "Canada??" he asked, wide eyed and, weirdly enough, smiling. So, he was from this world after all. Geographical knowledge was a good sign, Cassidy supposed.

"No, Kansas." Cassidy almost felt bad telling him the truth as he watched the tiny face drop with disappointment. "Canada is a long way away, did you come from there?"

It was certainly a long ride to get there, but he'd feel bad for not offering to take the man home, especially when he was in such a state. It was the least Cassidy could really do for him, after all.

With a sigh and a hand to brush back the hair that stuck to his forehead with sweat, the little man shook his head. "No. I was hitchhiking for a couple of days before, but I came from Hutchinson."

"Oh, that's a relief. I can take you back tomorrow-"

"Please- Don't take me back." The already strained voice sounded so desperate. Cassidy had almost began to wonder just what he'd gotten himself into when it continued, "I don't know how I got like this, or if I'm gonna be like this forever- but, even if I was.. well, how I used to be, I wouldn't be able to go back. Don't make me, I'm- I'm pleading with you."

"Jesus, okay, you can calm down, I won't take you anywhere you don't want to go." Cassidy raised his hands to surrender. There was no way he'd bring the man back to a place that clearly caused him so much panic- he might as well have just left him on the pavement if he would do that- but there were a lot of things to consider before making any set plans. "You weren't always so.. small, then?"

"No." He said it so matter-of-factly, in a way that made Cassidy feel like a bit of an idiot for asking. "I don't remember shit. I got a ride off the side of the road in Abilene from this dude in a white car- a Rover, a new one. I thought, you know, you don't kill people in cars that shiny and new, so I let myself fall asleep for a while."

"And then you were on the side of the street."

"No, actually. I woke up a couple of times, but, like, briefly. We were in the middle of nowhere, just road and.. I don't know- nature I guess, and I stuck my head out of the window for a bit." He bit his lip briefly, looking around as if there were anyone else to hear what he was about to say.

Cassidy assumed he was on drugs, that he was about to be told the man had seen a UFO or something of the sort fly overhead, and that would be when he awoke. He supposed it wasn't too far fetched, especially when looking down at the man in all of his miniature glory.

"If I tell you what happened, can you not think I'm crazy?" he finally asked, quite literally trembling as he had began to pace around the floor. He looked like a little toy solider, going back and forth in his mechanically decided patterns after being wound up and set off.

Cassidy imagined himself from an aerial point of view, hunched down on the floor speaking to a man of such impossible size. It would've been funny hadn't it been his reality. "I promise, I don't think I could perceive you as any crazier than I feel right now."

"Okay." He swallowed. The man was surprisingly audible despite the difference in scale, which made Cassidy think he was probably a very good public speaker before, well, this. He didn't even know his name, but he still allowed himself to smile at the bundle of nerves and personality in front of him. Even in one of the most frightening times of his life, the little guy could project.

"There was a massive cloud out. The skies were clear, other than the one cloud- that's why I remember it. I was probably just delirious after just waking up, but.. I don't know. It- it glittered. When we passed it, I felt my whole body react. It was like one of those itchy sweaters, but it was everywhere- even on the inside, I felt it."

Cassidy didn't really have an answer. He wasn't sure if he believed it to be possible, but it wasn't like there were any other possibilities to buy into. What the hell, sure. A magical cloud made the unnamed man tiny.

"Right." He didn't mean to sound like he didn't believe the story, but.. "I know y'can't stay here forever, but there's no way I'm letting you out on your own whilst you're like this."

Of course, Cassidy didn't realise it at the time, but his words would come back to bite him in the ass a little later down the line.

The part the tiny man seemed the most perplexed about was the part Cassidy assumed to be the obvious, asking with a pitiful level of uncertainty in his voice: "You're really gonna let me stay?"

Cassidy smiled. He hadn't had someone so grateful to be in his company for a long while, if ever really. It was sort of cute, but he wouldn't say that out-loud. "If you tell me your name, sure."

"Oh, right- it's Adam." He didn't look or sound so frightened anymore, that was a good sign.

"Adam." Cassidy tested his name on the tongue. There was something so great about it, so fitting. The first man on earth, the beginning of everything. Cassidy only really started to take ideas of God into great consideration when it was late and he'd had enough to drink, in times like this one now- when he was still trying to swallow down the hot taste of whiskey that struggled to settle in his stomach.

It churned as he looked at the little man- at Adam. A gut feeling that they'd be in each other's lives for a very, very long time. "I- Well," Cassidy cleared his throat, his mind elsewhere when enough time had passed for him to return the gesture of sharing his name. "I'm Cassidy."

Saying his own name aloud always felt so strange. Introductions on the whole had always been awkward, now that he thought about it- especially when said person you're introducing yourself to is all but a couple of inches tall. He went in for a handshake before really considering the impossibility of it, leaving his open hand lingering around in Adam's vicinity, frozen as his brain short circuited on how to approach him. Cassidy closed his hand into a fist with a hiss of embarrassment, discreetly placing it back down beside Adam in an attempt to come back from such a miscalculation.

"I'll set you up a more comfortable place to sleep. Who knows, maybe you'll grow back overnight or.. Something."

Cassidy didn't really believe such kinds of miraculous miracles could occur, and he wasn't at all surprised the next morning when Adam was laid there exactly where and how he'd left him. He could say he didn't expect each of them to play such significant roles in each other's lives from that point onward, but that would be a lie. Adam couldn't stay forever, but God would he make a good go of it.

#g/t #giant tiny #g/t ocs #gianttiny #sfw g/t #size difference #giant/tiny #oc Adam #oc Cass #g/t writing #g/t story #shrinking #the overture

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unsoju · 18 hours ago

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✿ thinkin bout you. 𓂃 k. kozume x f. reader

cw. word count ; 1.9k. part 2 of ; trust. trust who? beach day episode. anxiety. kind of insecure! reader. kuroo appearance. keiko already knowing about kenma and reader. kind of suggestive? they don’t do anything, but they mention things that happened in part one.

syn. after the mishap with kenma last month, things have gotten more and more awkward, and you have gotten less you, as time goes on. keiko invites you to the beach, in hopes of cheering you up.

It’s a good day for the beach. There aren’t too many people here, because it’s a Monday. The sun is out, but there are still clouds in the sky, so it’s not swelteringly hot out. You’re with your best friend, skipping school with no consequences since your parents already said yes to a beach day.

Beside you, Keiko is laid out on her beach towel, letting the sun beam down on her skin as she hopes and prays for a good tan. You, on the other hand, have your knees pulled up to your chest, sunglasses on, and you’re reading a book.

“Are you still reading that godforsaken book?” Without looking over, you can tell Keiko doesn’t even have her eyes open. She knows you too well, she could probably predict your every move at this point. You do, in fact, look back, though, a smile on your face. Her eyes open and she props herself up on her elbow, tilting her head. “We are literally at the beach, Y/n. Like, the sun is out, the waves are crashing against the sand, or whatever. Enjoy the sun!”

You sigh, but make a show out of closing your book and setting it to the side. Your arms end up wrapped around your legs and you rest your cheek on a knee. “It’s hot. I can’t just sit there and tan like you do— I get bored. Why can’t we go in the water yet?”

“Because Kenma and Kuroo haven’t shown up yet.” Your stomach drops at the mention of his name. Your eyes dart away from her, now glued to the water. “Besides,” she says, laying back down, “I still have a few minutes left before I can stop tanning my front side.”

“Kenma and Kuroo are coming?” You ask, voice quiet and distant. You haven’t talked to Kenma in weeks. The thought of seeing him again makes you nervous. Briefly, you’re insecure about the swimsuit you’re wearing, but then remember that night in his room and stop.

“Mhm. It’s their senior skip day, that’s why my parents said yes to me skipping too.”

You hum in response. That makes sense, logically, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. You sigh and glance back at her once more. She looks so peaceful— so happy. You with a resigned purse of your lips, you stand up. “I’m going to get ice cream. You want strawberry?”

Her answer barely reaches your ears as she mumbles out a yes. You brush the sand off your hands and look out to the water again. You think you might want to go home again right now. There’s a few people lining the beach; some college kids playing beach volleyball, an older couple sitting very close to the water, a singular woman laying down and enjoying the sun.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves. For a moment, you start to think about excuses you could use in order to escape. But then you think back to when Keiko was so excited that you agreed to come today, and a frown finds its way onto your face.

As you make your way to the ice cream shop, you can’t help but zone out. You try to keep your eyes in focus, but they just can’t. you’re too focused on Kenma and him showing up and the possibility that he told Kuroo what you two did and how Kuroo is going to snicker at you and judge you and—

A familiar laugh pulls you out of your thoughts. It’s loud and it’s annoying and you look up to see Kuroo and Kenma walking straight towards you.

Now, you have two options; there’s a group of bushes beside you. You could jump in and hide from them, risking your dignity and also the fact that it would probably hurt. Or. You keep walking, chin high, and pretend nothing is wrong.

You glance at the bushes, then back to the pair, and slowly realize that Kenma has already spotted you. You wrap your arms around yourself and go with a secret third option.

You put your head down and speed walk past them, ignoring Kuroo’s greeting and Kenma’s cat-like eyes burning into your skin.

There’s no time to think about what just happened— how embarrassing and plain rude it was— because you’re at the ice cream shop in less than ten steps after passing the two boys. Just like the beach, there’s not a lot of people there; two people working, and one person sitting down at one of the tables.

You’re less than a yard away from the counter, when there’s a hand on your shoulder, spinning you around to look at them. Kenma stands in front of you now, shirtless and a little out of breath. Did he run back here?

There’s a sheen of sweat covering his body and, in the sun, it almost looks as if he’s sparkling. You want to throw up. Instead, you plaster a smile on your face and blink a couple times. “Hi, Kenma. Are you getting some ice cream, too?”

If possible, his face falls even flatter. “Cut the bullshit,” he snaps, making you flinch backwards a little bit. Kenma has never been an aggressive guy— well, maybe that’s not true after knowing what you know now, but he’s always been nice to you. “Why are you acting so… weird?”

Again, you blink at him, face blank, eyes dumb. There are so many scenarios running through your head; you tell him why you’re acting weird and he gets weirded out. You don’t tell him why you’re acting weird and he stops talking to you. You don’t tell him why you’re acting weird and he tells Keiko, effectively ruining your friendship.

“I’m not…” you trail off, eyes darting anywhere but his face. This is it. This is your chance. Speak now or forever hold your peace, right? You huff out a quick breath and meet his golden eyes once more. “I’m acting weird because you were my first kiss and then acted like nothing happened! And then you took my virginity and did the same damn thing!”

His eyes widen comically as you rant. Almost too fast for you to even process, his eyes sweep the surroundings before he grabs your arm and drags you away to a more secluded place— one where no one will see you.

Your rate picks up again. You find it often does that when you’re around Kenma.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He hisses out, hand still gripping your arm. It makes you think back to that night when you first asked him the question, and you have to suppress a shiver. “You— I thought— you left my room before I woke up the morning after. You were the one who told me not to say anything to Keiko when I kissed you. You acted like nothing happened first. I followed your lead because I thought you didn’t want Keiko to know.”

“I don’t, but—”

“Then this is not just on me,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Kenma this mad before— you don’t think you’ve ever seen him mad, actually. “It’s partly my fault, because I was stupid enough to—”

It’s silent for a moment. The breeze kicks up, blowing both of your hair in the wind, yet there isn’t a word spoken. He stares at you, and you stare at him— silent.

“Stupid enough to what?” Your voice comes out in a shaky, weak whisper. You sound pathetic, and you know it, but you don’t care. Tears begin to sting at your eyes and you stare at him dumbly.

He hesitates, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He seems to be calmer already. “Shit, I—” he takes an indecisive step forward, brows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t— I wasn’t going to say that, I was—” he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh. “I wasn’t saying that taking your virginity was stupid. I was just… It would be better if you weren’t Keiko’s best friend, you know? I’m glad you are, but…”

“But it complicated things,” you finish for him, nodding. You look down at the ground and a singular tear splashes onto the sand. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I just, um, wanted someone I trusted.”

“I know.” His hand finds your arm again, his fingers are cold against your sun kissed skin. ��And that’s perfectly fine. I think I already said this, but I’m happy you picked me and not some random guy from school.” This gets a small laugh out of you and, when you look up, Kenma is half-smiling too. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. It was kind of mean.”

You giggle again and sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “It’s okay. I kind of yelled about you and my virginity in front of those ice cream workers, so it cancels out.”

“Yeah,” Kenma laughs out, nodding. “I guess it does.”

You two stare at each other for a moment longer, basking in the comfortable silence that settles around you.

Kenma is the first one to talk. A hesitant question as he tilts his head, “So?”

You mirror his action, tilting it the other way, and furrow your brows. “So?” You repeat. Your mind catches up to what he’s asking and your eyes widen. “Oh. So. What do you… I mean, like, I know that I, personally, wouldn’t—”

“What are we gonna tell Keiko?”

The question stops you short, your brain seems to stutter. “Oh,” you breathe out. “I… did not think about that.”

“I don’t think you need to tell her.” The new, but familiar, voice cuts through the air like a sword. You can feel the air around you get freezing cold. You swallow hard and slowly turn around to Keiko standing not even five feet away from you, hands crossed over her chest. Kuroo stands next to her, brows raised in complete and utter disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She exclaims, marching towards you. “You lost your virginity to my brother and didn’t tell me?”

You can’t even talk right now. Your throat is dry, your brain is fried, you can’t breathe. “Keiko, I can—”

She glances back at Kuroo for a millisecond before they both start cackling. They clutch their stomachs and double over, wheezing and gasping for breath.

You and Kenma exchange glances, confusion written on both of your faces. “Uh.” Kenma scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “What’s happening right now?”

Keiko, through her gasps of laughter, looks up at you and shakes her head, taking another step towards you and hitting your shoulder. “I already knew, you dumbass. I was just waiting for you to say something and you just, like, never did!”

“Oh my god.” You blink a couple times, staring down at the sand once again. “Oh my god. Keiko, what? How did you know?”

Her laughter has stopped now. She looks at you, leans close to your ear, and giggles before whispering, “you need to learn to be more quiet. Be happy my parents weren’t there for you to wake up.”

You can feel your face heat up. Kenma gives you a confused look, but you shake your head, mumbling something about telling him later.

“Okay, can we swim now, or what?”

All three of you look at Kuroo and laugh. “Yeah,” Kenma nods his head, unexpectedly throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go swim.”

#unsoju #thought up by rin #haikyuu #haikyuu!! kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu kenma kozume #haikyuu!! kenma kozume #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kenma kozume x reader #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma #kenma x reader #part two

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