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kivino · 1 year ago

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OUT OF THE SHADOWS I || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X SHADOW!GN!READER

Word counter – ~6.9k words

Tags/Warnings – Gn!Reader, Shadow!Reader (it’s not for long lol, don’t get your hopes up), murder of civilians/corpses/blood mentioned, physical fights, reader likes to throw fists, Reader’s callsign is Bug to pay tribute to my original idea.

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life.

also available on my ao3!

a/n after the fic because they’re too long. but just know that this is the first chapter of the series, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part. enjoy!

Everything was calm. The sound of rain covering up the murmur of trucks helped you wind down after the adrenaline rush, and a sense of accomplishment for a job well done swelled in your chest. You already anticipated a long sleep and maybe a night out with your friends when you’re back home from the job. Maybe you’d even get a bonus from Graves and buy something nice for yourself.

In all honesty, you didn’t even mind being crammed into the backseat along with those 141 guys. Working with them was a pleasure and they seemed like an interesting sort of crowd. Especially that man with the skull mask. Ghost, was it? He certainly attracted your attention the most, with his huge size, booming voice, and undeniable skill in what he did. You were willing to admit that the way he took out the enemies with ease and swiftness was mesmerizing. And…your train of thought that consisted of pure fascination was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the convoy in front of the base gate.

Everything was calm until you were surrounded by shouting and then eventual gunshots, along with muffled screams of your brothers in arms. You didn’t understand how it all escalated so fast. One moment you were sure about Shadow Company and Task Force 141 being on the same side, but now you didn’t know what to think of it all. And from Graves' words, it was apparent that Shepherd was behind this too. So naturally you, and many other shadows, the lower ranks, had no fucking clue what all of this was about. One would care to tell a mindless weapon where to shoot, but not why. Blood rushed through your veins and pulsed in your ears, turning the pleasant buzz in your body into strained sharpness. You hurriedly pulled up the rear sight to your eye level. Two bodies dropped to the wet asphalt with soft thuds right in front of you. You felt your heart sink right down to your feet. Instead of firing your shots, you hesitated, backing out to hide behind the bumper of the truck, while hearing agitated, aggressive shouts. You weren’t able to tell who was shouting. So, you leaned out and felt yourself freeze in place.

And there he is. Ghost, eyes locked right on you. He sure has a…strong presence. And instead of shooting you he just…looks. You don’t like the stupid flowery language, but in this split second, it really feels like he is staring right into your soul. Or like someone is sticking metal rods right through your chest, with how hard breathing becomes in an instant.

You knew that if you were to shoot him right now, you’d never forgive yourself, all because you were kept in the dark about the whole thing Graves had planned. And you were not willing to get blood on your hands because of some “mistake”. If you pull the trigger, there will be one less person who’s able to make a change. One less person who’ll be willing to get their hands dirty and save people.

So, you lower the muzzle of your rifle and nod to the side, urging him to start his getaway, before other Shadows and Graves decide to check the perimeter. You see his dark eyes blink, or at least you think you do before he disappears into the darkness. Like he was never there in the first place.

In the end, you didn’t get even a single scratch. Three other Shadows were K.I.A.

Your head buzzed with so many different questions you wanted to ask Graves, and more importantly, the guilt you felt from whatever happened in front of the threshold. You had no idea what happened with that Los Vaqueros base or what was up with your CO, while you were escorting him and those 141 guys along with several other Shadows for this mission. Why was he taking it? What was he even thinking? You wanted to pull out your hair and claw out your eyes just thinking about all of it. Which, you weren’t paid to do, but that didn’t mean you weren’t concerned with the moral side of things. Unlike the majority of the Shadows, as you came to find out.

Confusion bubbled up inside of your mind, eyes burned by the white synthetic light of the gate when you looked up at it just to feel something aside from sheer distress and bewilderment. You didn’t want to believe that your Commander was the type of person to sell himself out, and you didn’t expect him to be, from all the time spent working with him. The man was nothing short of likable and friendly, with his beaming smile, confident attitude, and outgoing way of communicating… a natural-born leader, that was the first thing that came to mind when you thought about your boss. And with how Graves treated you and all other Shadows like you were more than just his employees, the realization was even more painful. Of course, you didn’t want to think about how he could so easily turn his back on people who trusted him.

It raised many questions in your mind about the price of his word, as well as made your stomach churn with acidic, flesh-eating poison full of doubt and suspicion. If it was so easy for your CO to cut out the men someone he told you all to think of as your brothers, then how long will it be before he sells you and other shadows out for…whatever was offered to him?

“Find ‘em!” Graves barks and your chest swells with bitter disappointment. You thought you knew him before (as much as a subordinate can know their superior), but how can you even begin to understand him now?

You hear Shadows mutter a quiet “Yup-yup”, more to themselves than to your CO, and you could almost feel the doubt settle over them in a thick, transparent blanket. From the conversations you can pick up on while Graves is out of earshot, you guess that some of them don’t think betraying the 141 guys and trying to hunt the two of them down is the right thing to do. But it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it though. You, however, want to help. You know that it’s not right, so…screw it. You can always find another job, and if it comes down to it, 141 seem like an okay sort of people, the type that would have your back if you had theirs. At least, you have hope for it.

So maybe you could hold out until they come back for Los Vaqueros. And you were certain they’d do that, no way they’d abandon all these men. You haven’t seen how the things were on said base that was taken from them, but you were certain you could do more on the inside than if you were to leave right now. Maybe you could break Colonel out of there, or help the Task Force sneak in, you were sure they could use any help from you.

That was the plan before you saw what Shadow Company did to Las Almas.

The picture that Shadows were painting with innocent blood on the rainy landscape was horrifying, to say the least. The metallic smell hit your nose the moment you jumped out of the truck right onto the flooded pavement. That was the exact moment when you realized you couldn’t stay with Shadows any longer. You were supposed to help these people. It was your job. Instead, you felt filthier than the dirt on your boots. Traitor. Backstabber. You choked on your breath behind the mask each time you noticed the bodies of the victims in every dark corner of the city, nausea coming up your throat when you could see rivers of crimson streaming down the road and right into the sewers. Your Shadow Company patch felt like the mark of a killer, etched into your skin permanently, instead of just being part of your uniform.

Limp bodies that didn’t even have the time to grow cold yet, scattered around warm homes. Some of the killed were probably already in their beds sleeping, coming back from work, watching TV, or cooking dinner when they got dragged out under the rain and massacred…Everything felt like a blur, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of whys, while you were led further into the town, to continue the revolting, disgusting crimes of your brothers-in-arms. You couldn’t stand to spend another minute in here. You need to get out before you do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for. You were many things, but you were not willing to go that far. Not here, not anywhere.

“Hey. Where’s Graves?” You tap another Shadow, your “close colleague” with a callsign Kruk, on the shoulder. He turns to you, while you see several other soldiers passing by, yellow streetlights barely illuminating their swiftly moving figures. You knew why it was hard for you to even look in their direction. Kruk points towards the building to the left of you two and croaks something about “briefing the rookies”. You nod and thank him, stumbling in the general direction he pointed you to.

“Commander, with all due respect, I think it’s time for you to discharge me.” You only came to your senses when you stood in front of your CO in the cramped space of someone’s living room. Wallpaper, creamy in color, dulled lights, tons of decorative cushions on the couch… Your voice is quiet, but firm, not leaving any space for compromise when you speak up to the blond man, and your politeness is as fake as this copy of “Guernica” you could see hanging on the wall. Blood pulses in your ears. You want to leave, you want out. Out of here.

“Bug, now’s not the time for jokes, I need you on the field now. We’ve got our orders.” Graves barely raises his eyes from tapping something on the tablet, that usual scowl that you got used to present on his face. His actions are as ugly as he is. Him not taking you seriously sure does a number on your confidence. But that only reassures you in your decision. You need out.

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m leaving, because I don’t think what we’re doing is right.” You try to stay calm, you really do. But how can you, when out of something so vile he makes a joke? Makes all these people a sick joke.

A crease lies between your brows, and shadows falling over your eyes make your face look similar to a carved statue. Before talking to Graves, you decided to take off the eyewear that obscures your face and pull down the thin mask, the signatures for Shadows who are lower in the chain of command. You’re the faceless sort, after all. “And I don’t think you know your place.” You’re instantly taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you don’t let it show. “I point and you shoot. I sign your paychecks, Bug, and you take them.” You feel something inside of you flinch at the way he mutters your callsign. “I’m in charge. You don’t have a say in what we do.” With each statement, his gloved finger points from him to you, making the rage and frustration boil inside of your chest. You trusted Graves and he led all of your colleagues, along with you to dragging out unarmed, innocent people in the dead of night out of their houses on their streets and executing them. Hell of a leader he is.

“Well, I’m stepping down. If that’s what we do, I don’t want to take part in it.” You wanted to tell him a lot more, give Graves a piece of your mind on war crimes and killing people in their own homes. On how drowning Las Almas in blood won’t fix whatever the fuck he was trying to fix right now. Instead, you kept it to yourself, tightening your fists just so you didn’t spit in his face or punch him.

“You’re putting a target on your back. Do you not understand how what you’re saying makes you look?” Graves leans in closer to you, the low volume of his voice making it even more threatening, similar to the hissing of a snake. Give him a minute and he will start spewing real venom right in your face.

“You know that whatever you’re thinking is not true.” To be completely honest, you didn’t care what he thought right now. Graves’ mind and morals were clearly in the wrong place if he considered all this bloodshed justified.

“Do I really? A moment ago I was sure that you were my subordinate, now I’m not even sure what to make of you.” You’re barely able to resist rolling your eyes at this. Your heart is picking up the pace with each minute. Getting more and more desperate to leave your body altogether, just so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit any longer. You wish it was that easy.

“I’m not taking orders from you. Not anymore.” Saying this took a lot more out of you than you expected, you felt your chest tremble when you met your CO’s eyes.

“Well, would you just look at that, you happen to be a fan of our local drug lord too?” If eyes could kill, Graves would’ve dropped dead right this moment. He smiles, his sharp canines peeking from under his top lip. He knows he’s making your skin crawl and your stomach flip from this interaction, which, if you’re lucky, would be the last for the two of you. “Helping the cartel and corrupt police won’t look too good on your resume”

“I see you’re just making it up as you go.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in your chest. Shaky. Uneven. Infuriated. Your eyes are drilling Graves’, a deep frown between them as proof of how much you despise him now, for the baseless assumption too. After a moment of silence, you add. “You know what my stance on this is. Whether I get your approval or not, I’m leaving.” Graves finally withdraws from your personal space, sliding the palm over his face with a heavy sigh, as his lips tighten into a thin line. You knew that this combination meant he was trying to calm down. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again.

“Look, Bug, you’re a smart kid and frankly, I like you.” he makes a short pause, sighing. “So, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Five minutes – if you’re not out of the city, then you’re a target.” He wasn’t that fucking courteous with the civilians that lay dead a few meters away. Shot on sight. Without any questions. You grit your teeth.

What are you supposed to do with that? Those five minutes didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, most likely, you’ll be rotting in the ditch somewhere shortly after your time runs out - too little to get out of the city or find the Task Force you so desperately wanted to help. Graves won’t leave any witnesses. And you are one. He knows it’s not going to be easy for you to just turn on the Shadows like that too, even though you despised what they were doing while following his orders. They still were your family. Dysfunctional and disproportionately big, but family, nonetheless. Even if they deserved it for their lack of action to prevent what was happening now, you don’t turn on your family like that. What he’s doing is forcing your hand.

Regardless, you have no choice but to take Graves up on his last “generous” offer.

“What are you waiting for, hm? Get out of here while you can.” You didn’t need to be told that twice. So, still balancing your rifle on your arm, your free hand reaches for that patch on your shoulder. Tearing it off in a quick motion makes the sound of Velcro strips snapping open almost echo from how quiet it is. It felt like a whole mountain dropped off of your shoulders when you threw the patch on the ground and stormed out of the building right into the pouring rain.

You felt goosebumps and tremors creeping up your spine as you ran through the dark streets, getting more and more soaked with each second. You didn’t feel much better though. The resentment for Graves grew each second, with all the steps that sent ripples on the surface of the deep puddles, and every raindrop that fell from the copper-colored clouds. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in your misery. Although you wanted to. It did feel like the loss of a person you used to know, of someone you looked up to. The only thing is, he was still living and breathing, and the only thing that died was that idealized image of him in your head.

There was a cold hollowness somewhere in your chest. Gaping with the darkness that, and you were sure of it, will eat you alive soon enough. Even though you backed out of the Shadow company, it won’t bring back all the people who are not here anymore. You won’t fix it, no matter how hard you try. That bitter guilt snaked its way into the back of your mind and it was there to help stay.

You managed to pull yourself out of this to make things right. But why do you feel so helpless still?

Your footsteps get faster and faster, as you maneuver through the narrow alleyways, staying out of the range your former colleagues were in. It was easy to hear them, gunshots and voices echoed throughout the city in a weird cacophony that your ears got used to after a long time working for the Shadow Company. They were not afraid, probably feeling like masters here. Somebody has to give them a scare, you thought. So they know better in the future. But it wasn’t your job at the moment. Right now, you needed to get out and do it as soon as possible.

Stopping and coming up with any sort of plan that would help you was not an option - hang in somewhere for too long and you’ll be found. And you were sure you wouldn’t be shown any mercy.

So instead of staying on the street, where you can be easily spotted with the help of the dim light of a flashlight, you decide to alternate between the corridors of empty homes, with doors wide open for anyone seeking shelter, and the maze of alleyways crawling with Shadows. It felt wrong, invading someone’s homes like this, but you knew if they were unlocked and lights beamed around them, giving out a warm glow the inhabitants were most likely not coming back.

You felt that tingle on the nape of your neck, ready to hide or flee in case you heard any sudden movement from any direction. It’s dead quiet, except for occasional radio talk from the shadows, which you tried to listen in on when you could. It didn’t give you much on where 141 could be. You would start losing hope if you had any left after Graves. But you continue your search nonetheless, reflexes instead of thinking, pure determination instead of hope, and fire in your veins, instead of blood.

That is until you quietly step inside another warm hallway, and you’re met with a wide-eyed stare from another Shadow that makes you freeze like a deer in the headlights. Something inside of you starts to churn with terror from the looming understanding – only one of you will walk out of here alive. Your eyes trail down to the raven patch on his tac vest. It’s Kruk. You want to ask what he is doing here, but you already feel his gaze studying you too. And as soon as he sees that the Shadow Company patch is missing from your uniform, the muzzle of his rifle points right at you. Fucking shit.

“Drop your gun, Kruk!” You warn the man, pointing the weapon in his direction too. He only shakes his head, refusing to stand down. With each second air is laced with tension more and more, you were sure that soon enough it’ll be so thick even a knife wouldn’t cut through it.

“You drop yours first.” His voice is shaky and unsure like he can’t believe what he’s doing right now either. “Commander gave us an order. You’re an enemy now too, Bug. Better get used to it.” Kruk started slowly approaching you, while pulling something out of the bag, strapped on his hip.

“Oh, fuck that!” You swing towards Kruk, trying to approach him in your momentary rage, but you’re immediately met with the warning “Don’t” from Kruk, who doesn’t stand down. “You know what they’re doing here. It doesn’t matter to you?” The man is silent. You don’t see his face behind his mask, so you’re left with even more questions instead of answers. Regardless of what he was thinking right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. So, you bend down and put your rifle on the ground with a quiet clack. If he needs a gesture of goodwill, he can have it. “Your turn.” Kruk only shakes his head.

“Turn around.” So, it was a mistake to trust him. Naturally. Your gullibility will be your downfall. You can almost feel the bitter taste spread inside of your mouth when you look at Kruk. Fucking asshole. But you comply, although reluctantly. He grabs you roughly by the wrists with one hand and by the neck with another, leading you toward what looks like a kitchen in the dim lights falling through the doorway. You get lowered on your knees and then pressed into the dirty floor. And it hits right then and there. He’s going to execute you. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

“You know that I don’t want to do this.” He says quietly so that any shadows passing by don’t hear him. You feel your heartbeat shake your whole body and nausea so intense like you are on the verge of throwing up all of your internal organs, but giving up is just not an option right now. So, you try to prevent him from tying your hands together with all the strength you have.

“Then don’t fucking do it!” He does not answer this as you continue squirming in his hold, trying to make it as hard as possible for him to restrain you. He only grunts but keeps a firm grip. Your head was a mess, you thought Shadows were a family. But all it took was one order from Graves, now they’re scouring the town like damn bloodhounds for you too.

“Get…off of me!” You grit through your teeth. You feel a zip tie slide over your hands and turn your head. The rifle he previously held in his hands was gone, probably so he could tie you up properly, so you take your chance and deliver a hard kick to Kruk’s stomach. He chokes out a pained gasp and finally lets go of your hands. You scurry to get up from the floor with wide smears of rainwater and dirt decorating it, but you get grabbed by the leg, which causes you to stumble and fall once again. You turn your head and kick Kruk with all your might, while attempting to take off the zip tie off your wrists, which, thankfully, he didn’t have the time to close.

You manage to shake the man off of you, as you scramble to your feet, knocking over a corner table with some decorations on it. Yet when you see Kruk fumbling with his hip holster you immediately tackle him to the ground, which causes him to drop the handgun. The whole fight is just a mess, nothing but blinding rage is pulsing in your temples, melting your bones and muscles into something no better than an animal. You get up again, while Kruk is on the floor, searching for the handgun in the darkness. You feel the heavy metal press against your boot and you kick it behind you. You hear it slide across the floor and here it is. Kruk’s eyes, are directed right at you. His hands claw at your leg, trying to drag you down to the floor. And then you black out completely. Kicking, punching, pained wheezes and screams are all you hear, a stuffy abyss with little to no specks of light surrounding you.

You come back to your senses when you don’t feel the familiar weight of your handgun pressing against your hip and then you see it again. Kruk managed to grab it while you were in your anger-induced frenzy. Everything around you slows down. His shaky fingers pull on the safety, but you reach out and grab his hands, pulling them up, not letting him aim at you. Kruk grunts and you see his eyes focused on you in fear, and desperation, as he tries to overpower you in the struggle. You see his weakened state, but the self-preservation is stronger than any compassion towards him at the moment. Kruk will take your life if you don’t take his. That’s just the gist of it. You can’t let him walk away.

Your hands tremble when he manages to overpower you momentarily, but it’s all in vain when you press the handgun harder and harder into his frame, feeling his hands start to yield more and more with each second, strength leaving him. The fear in his eyes is directed at you and only you, but you try not to look. The muzzle of your gun is pressed snugly under his chin. Your gaze trails to his eyes once again. They burn you with terror. Your fingers hook around the trigger guard. You hear a faint whisper.

“Please…”

Gunshot rings in your ears for another second, despite the earmuffs in your helmet.

“Fuck! Fuck…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.” It all came crashing down on you in one moment. You wouldn’t feel guilty if it was the enemy, you wouldn’t care. He was an enemy now, so why do you feel so guilty, why is it starting to corrode and eat you alive even more? Your palms cover the profusely bleeding gunshot wound, going through his neck and cranium, hot blood pouring out with impossible speed, staining your hands, gear, and skin. Staining your whole being. How could you do something like this? Shadows are family. Killing an unarmed man who’s pleading for his life?

You’re no better than Graves.

The gunshot alerts the Shadows and they start scurrying around on the street. You have no time to mourn Kruk or search for your rifle in the dark, so you yank your handgun out of his hands which only started succumbing to rigor mortis, and sprint out the backdoor, desperately attempting to get away. You can feel your heartbeat booming in your ears, wet hair sticking to the nape of your neck, as you hear distant commotion and a chase stirring behind you, as you dart inside another building and run through the hallways, searching for a way out.

Back on the street, rain droplets are so cold that it feels like they’re splitting your skin open, you can barely feel the pain in your ankle from adrenaline pumping through your blood flow. You start slipping on the slick pavement, but you still refuse to stop, diving inside another doorway. Your head hurts, your lungs feel like they are about to explode, and you think you stepped into a puddle of someone’s blood. No time to ram through the locked door, so you jumped out of the second-story window and landed on your foot, twisting it in the process and swallowing the sob that welled up in your throat. You needed to move.

That bought you some time to get up and dip into the dark alleyway before you heard the loud footsteps approaching the window that you used to escape. You let out a heavy exhale, propping your back against the cold stone. You’re not completely safe, but…that’s better than nothing. The commotion of shadows quiets down and you hear it become more and more distant with each second.

After a moment of silence, you continue moving, albeit slowly, trying to get used to the hot pulsing in your leg, that shot up right through your nerves with each step you tried to take. You wince and whine in pain, dragging your leg behind, grabbing at the moist stone walls, clinging to them for any sort of support. However, it’s not much of a help.

Your escape is cut short when your legs finally give out, causing you to stumble and fall while crossing the church garden. Although it probably looked magical in the daylight, right now it was far from it, the smell of metal and smoke still lacing the darkness. You already feel your ankle swelling and some bruises forming under all your gear. You see the lights on the exterior of the church blend into the ribbon of lights and shadows and the thought crosses your mind. You can hide there.

You almost fly up the stairs despite the hurting leg, fumbling with the door for a second, before it creaks open. You shuffle inside with light steps and close the door behind you as quietly as you can. Your knees tremble as you slide down the cold wall and crawl further inside the building, barely feeling any strength left in you. God, you are so drained. Strained gasps are ripped out of your throat every second. You want nothing more than to lie down right there in this church and just let the darkness overtake you in a peaceful slumber. That would be so easy.

Your calm moment is interrupted by someone yanking you up on your feet, to which you let out a surprised yelp. You can’t see the person, but you can feel their hands tugging on your gear roughly and dragging you somewhere. It takes you a second to weigh your pretty limited options given the fact it’s so dark that you are barely able to make out your surroundings. So, you decide to take this fight head on and your heavy boot comes down right on their foot, which prompts the person to grunt, revealing a pretty low male voice, and let go of you.

You tear out from his grasp and almost tumble down to the church floor, bunching up dust with your loud, uneven footsteps. Your back is hunched as you look up at the dark figure from under your eyebrows, ready to deflect any blows if he decides to attack first. You stay silent, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence, small, feeble. Weak. Of course, you were at a disadvantage here, taking a beating, running from Shadows, twisting your ankle, and losing your rifle certainly didn’t help your chances to win, but you were ready to claw your way out of here with your bare hands, breaking your nails and skinning your hands if you had to.

But any punches or kicks you try to land the man easily deflects or blocks, not trying to attack or overpower you however, opting to just take up the defensive position in the fight. Which is, admittedly, a lot easier than taking the offensive one. Maybe he was aiming to exhaust you and then, when you are at your lowest point, he would attack. That seemed like a solid tactic, but you don’t want to let that happen. However, before you can think of anything you end up rolling with the man on the floor. You can hear him huff in frustration and exertion, the wood pressing harshly against your ribs and all the bruises on your lower body pulsing with pain.

After some struggle, however, you managed to tackle the man to the ground, pressing him down to the floor with your weight. Your hands snaked their way onto his neck as you glared at him, resisting the urge to bare your teeth akin to a stray, abused, and betrayed dog, crawling with fleas and parasites. Choking him out obviously wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you were trying to send a message here, that if you continue being followed, you will use your strength. If violence was the only language Shadows understood (and that’s who you believe the man was) then you were ready to become fluent.

“I swear, I’ll fucking kill you!” You press him into the floor harder, hands squeezing the man’s throat, your vision going blurry. You feel his hands grasp at your wrists, but he does not resist. Why is he not trying to shake you off? Why is he letting you choke him like this? Why is he not fighting back?

“Let go, Bug.” The man’s voice is strained, but familiar, he whispers through his closed jaw. You can hear the way his throat tenses up, or his Adam’s apple bobs under your thick gloves, the warmth of his skin, and the moisture that seeped into the mask. Mask. More light falls through the window thanks to the momentary flicker of the streetlight. Skull. Eight lines on his chin, two on the forehead. Dark brown eyes.

Your hands shoot up like his neck is on fire. Guilt settles in your gut and your throat, pulling you in like you’re some puppet with no free will. You try to get up from the man’s midsection but tumble down on your side from trying to do it too quickly. It’s Ghost. How the hell did you not recognize Ghost?

“I’m sorry. I’m not…myself right now.” You were now sitting on the floor, palms resting on your face, wet from the rain, skin burning up, either trying to regulate the temperature or from all the exertion. Either way, it didn’t matter right now.

“Yeah, you made it pretty obvious.” Ghost coughs, trying to shake off your attempt to cut off his air circulation just seconds ago, as he gets up from his lying position. “At least now I know you’ve got a good grip.” He lets out a deep chuckle which only earns him an eyebrow raise from you. He was joking at a time like this? Must’ve hit his head pretty hard too.

“I could’ve choked you. Why did you not fight back more?” You were royally confused about that. He could’ve stopped the fight before it even began and avoided some bruises along with the sore neck if he just told you who he was or fought back. But he didn’t.

Ghost wants to say something, but stops himself right after opening his mouth. You see it in the way he looks at you. The pause stretches for an endless amount of time and you feel your skin crawling with anxiety while his eyes study your face.

“I was going easy on ya.” Ghost says in a rather blunt manner, which didn’t answer that many of your questions. Well, if he was going easy, he should’ve been at least going at you, which wasn’t true – you saw him only defending himself and blocking some of your blows. Did he?.. Was he trying not to hurt you? Okay, the more you thought about it, the wilder it sounded. Maybe you should just drop it. “I don’t suppose you came here to wash your sins away.” You want to scoff from the bad taste. “Lil’ birdie told me you ditched the Shadows. Any particular reason why?” The man inquires, turning to you. Sitting like this on the floor with him felt unusual, like some sort of weird church sleepover. Give Ghost a minute and he’ll bring you some ice cream so you two can watch some wacky TV shows together.

“Did your little birdie also tell you that Graves is hunting me down too?” You ask while pulling your drenched mask over your face. It brought some comfort and familiarity that were gone the moment you spoke to your CO in that living room. And, well, it would be awkward if Ghost was the only one in the mask.

“I guessed by the gunshots, some racket, and a horde of Shadows taking a night run through the neighborhood close by.” The man chuckles and you feel your face burn up in embarrassment under your mask. You try not to let it show, however. You knew that it wasn’t a very sleek move that you pulled with Kruk, but you were desperate and you didn’t need motherfucking Ghost telling you it was stupid.

“You’re just hilarious. Is that how you became a lieutenant, by cracking jokes left and right?” You roll your eyes and hope he won’t notice it in the darkness. This banter was pointless, you knew it but…you needed it. It was not easy losing something familiar, so you desperately wanted to feel that camaraderie you experienced in the Shadows.

“You’ll find out once you’re a lieutenant yourself.” And Ghost indulges you. Which, you are thankful for. Isn’t such a scary guy after all, huh?

“Yeah, if I’m alive long enough.” You scoff at his concealed attempt to comfort and reassure you, but you can’t help that warm feeling in your chest. Weird.

“Well, you’ve already surpassed my expectations by staying alive until now.” The man stands up from the floor with a low grunt, pressing an arm around his midsection, right around where you might’ve pinned him to the floor with your body. “Let’s make sure it lasts, eh?” He extends a gloved hand toward you in an open, inviting gesture. Your eyes trail over his huge figure and land on specks of light in his eyes.

His eye black is all smudged and messy.

You have to shake off the sudden thought, observation too close and intimate for your liking, as you grab him by the forearm, trying to ignore the way your skin burns up when you feel his warmth through his gear. Ghost pulls you up to your feet, but doesn’t let go of your arm once you’re up. You don’t let go either. The silence rings in your ears. God, he’s so warm.

“Are you like a human furnace or something?” You joke to fill the excruciating silence. Which you immediately regret. You wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see just how his face stretched the fabric of a skull mask, which you clearly heard happen by a small shuffle very close to you. Who knows, maybe he cracked a smile?

“Why? Need someone to warm you up at night?” Okay, this is terrible and stupid, and so damn corny, and why do you feel your cheeks grow hot and breath get stuck in your chest? Maybe that’s just how awful his jokes are. Ghost clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of your forearm, fingers still clinging to your sleeve as he pulls himself away too quickly for it to be something nonchalant or casual.

“So, are you answering my question, or do I have to use torture?” Fucking hell, his jokes are morbid. You almost forgot in those several hours you haven’t interacted with him. Although that would be quite hard, he leaves quite an impression, after all.

“Well, I suppose you’ve seen the…the civilians?” You can’t call them anything besides that. To call them corpses is to take away from their whole being. To call them dead would just be a lie. They were still alive in the walls of their homes, in the memories of their breathing relatives and friends, and in the pictures, their traces are everywhere. Ghost silently nods to your question, prompting you to continue. “Then here’s your reason.” You didn’t want to explain your feelings in great detail. And you didn’t feel the need to; you saw the compassion in his eyes. “Plus, the whole thing with the Los Vaqueros base.” If you saw Ghost’s face now you’d note how the expression darkened in a single moment. However, you do feel the temperature in the room fall several degrees lower, so you decide to joke again. “Pay wasn’t that good anyway, so…”

“Fair enough.” The man chuckles while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep an eye on you though. Don’t think you can just waltz in here like this and be completely trusted.” Well, that’s understandable. If you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. Although you did hope that the mercy you’ve shown him earlier would influence his decision making. At least a little bit. “And you better toss that thing. Or else.” He points to the radio, still strapped to your tactical vest. You unclasp the device, detaching the small microphone that was holding on by a thread, and hand it to Ghost.

“You’re welcome to get rid of it for me.” And he doesn’t waste any time, dropping the radio on the ground, stomping on it so hard that the sound of it breaking echoes through the church. You assess the scraps of wires and plastic on the floor with a pitiful gaze, coming to a conclusion that you wouldn’t want to end up under Ghost’s boot. Or maybe you would, but under different circumstances. “Well, that’s…effective.”

“You good with the sniper rifle?” The man ignores your previous remark, immediately firing back with the question.

“Decent.” You were a lot better in close quarters and preferred a more hands-on approach. But a sniper rifle wasn’t that bad. As long as he doesn’t ask you to use it without a scope.

“You’re on the lookout with me then. Don’t screw it up.”

Oh, you’re absolutely not going to.

check out my masterlist or send me a request!

a/n – first of all, thank you for reading this fic, and if you enjoyed it, consider dropping me a comment, i’ll really appreciate it! SECOND OF ALL. I’M NOT A GRAVES HATER, DON’T COME @ ME. segment with him also was written before the campaign release, so in case there are some inaccuracies with the plot/his character – let me know, so I can fix it. all of this is a huge rework of the series that I started but never posted. Originally, it was supposed to be Graves x Reader, but for multiple reasons, moral mostly, it didn’t quite sit right with me. So instead of letting 6k words first part that I’ve written and abandoned go to waste, I decided to remake it into something else here, based on the idea of @mockerycrow (ily you have such a big brain)! so yeah, that’s it for now!

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rocorambles · 1 year ago

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Final Girl: Act I

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Consensual Drugging, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Daichi and Kuroo being grade A creeps

Summary: If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance.

Link to Final Girl: Act II

You are a complete moron. Torn between screaming and crying, you let out a strangled sound between the two as you furiously clench your fists around your now useless steering wheel. It’s almost laughable how cliche the situation you find yourself in is. You can even see the imaginary script in your head.

Scene: Girl in broken down car, cell phone out of battery, stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road, torrential downpour

You’ve always rolled your eyes in annoyance at the dumb damsels in distress you’ve seen on screen, all in predicaments easily avoided if they had used a single ounce of common sense. And now here you are, just like them, all because you had stupidly scoffed at the numerous warnings about the inclement weather.

What harm could a little more rain than usual do? Apparently, a lot.

Weighing your options, a brick of disbelief and hysteria swells and sinks inside of you. There’s no way you can stay in this car. Even if you wait out the flash floods and stormy nightmare outside that looks to have no end in sight, you’ll still have a broken car and dead cell phone with no city or town anywhere near walking distance. You’ll need to venture out into the forests that surround you on either side in hopes of stumbling upon a cabin with kindhearted folks who’ll help you out.

It’s not a long shot that you’ll find some nearby residents. Despite this area being off the beaten track, you know there are plenty of people who’ve migrated here in search of a quieter and more remote life. You yourself had ventured out here for a long weekend solo getaway to rest and reset (the premise of this whole unfortunate scenario). But that doesn’t stop that same stereotypical script from playing in your head as you anxiously exit your car and delve into that intimidating expanse of greenery.

Scene: Girl walks into the woods, disappearing out of view from the road, only the stillness and silence of the forest left in her wake

You grimace as mud squelches under the weight of your steps, as floods of water stream down your face. Your one saving grace is that at least there’s still daylight to guide you, but even that is quickly dwindling as the sun continues to set. Anxiety laced with fear begins to claw at you as darkness begins to spread.

How long have you been searching? How far are you from your car? Do you even know where you are? Are you lost-

Your body stiffens in shock as your frantic eyes see a glow of light up ahead and your frenzied thoughts are cut short by adrenaline as your legs scramble forward before your brain can catch up, stumbling towards that literal ray of hope you see in the distance. Relief washes over you as the sight of a cabin becomes clearer the closer you get to your destination and primal instincts take a back seat as you slow down, cautiously assessing your surroundings.

It certainly doesn’t look like a murder house. In fact you’re almost in awe at how chic and charming the “cabin” in front of you is with its sleek black rustic yet modern structure nestled among a gorgeously curated landscape. The inhabitants certainly had taste and money, but you know better than to immediately equate to being “good”. Do you take the risk of ringing their doorbell?

Life makes that decision for you and your heart pounds in terror at the feeling of a hand grabbing your shoulder, head spinning to locate the source only to be locked in a staring contest with sharp hazel eyes.

“My, my. What do we have here? A little chick separated from her flock?”

You shudder as the low slow drawl of his words slither unpleasantly against you, an interested predatory lilt in every syllable. This was a mistake, you need to get out of here, run-

“Kuroo, what’s taking you so long- Who’s that with you?”

So distracted by the sudden stand-off, neither of you had noticed the cabin door opening or the approaching figure of the man now curiously observing the two of you.

Kind brown eyes worriedly look at you, a crease of concern furrowing between brows as the new stranger takes in your drenched state and before you can utter a word, a warm hand gently but firmly wraps around your wrist, leading you inside.

You know it’s foolish to let yourself so easily be swayed, but even if you were to run, you doubt you could outrun the two seemingly fit men. Not to mention how your gut is screaming that “brown eyes'' is a far safer option than the man whose hazel eyes are now staring in annoyance at the two of you, not unlike a cat whose prey has been snatched from him, as he glowers and trails behind you causing you to subconsciously hover close to your savior.

If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance.

Scene: Girl enters a stranger’s house

Daichi (brown eyes) and Kuroo (hazel eyes). You now have names to match with the faces. Childhood friends who had decided the hustle and bustle of city life wasn’t for them and had bought and renovated this property together. Freshly showered in a set of Daichi’s spare t-shirt and shorts, basking in the warmth of the fireplace, stomach filled with a delicious meal cooked by the two men, a glass of red wine in your hands, you wonder what you were so scared of. Even Kuroo seems harmless, if infuriating, as Daichi and him teasingly bicker with each other about their mutual friends and shared memories they had growing up together.

The weather had knocked out most of the power in the area leaving you without wi-fi or a way for you to charge your phone and with the roads as flooded and inaccessible as they were, there was little hope of a tow truck being able to take care of your car anytime soon. But you don’t mind the idea of having to stay a few days longer in this cozy cabin if this is how you’ll be pampered. Taking another generous sip of the ruby red liquid in your glass, you wonder how you can repay the two men. Maybe you can help them cook tomorrow…

Scene: Girl accepts a drink from a stranger

Ever the gentleman, Daichi is there to catch you as your body goes limp.

Kuroo snorts at the chivalrous display, but it doesn’t stop him from eagerly drawing near as he follows the broader man who bridal carries you up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

There’s no need for how gentle Daichi handles your body as he lays you on soft sheets, not with the dosage Kuroo had slipped into your wine. But he’d always been more careful with his toys, unlike the man next to him who is practically clawing off your clothes, his long lean frame already pinning you beneath him.

He can’t really blame his companion though. How long had it been since the last warm body they’d shared? The last foolish prey who’d naively walked right into their trap? So he just patiently watches as Kuroo eagerly partakes of you, only making warning comments here and there when the taller man is close to leaving too many marks that won’t be easily explained tomorrow. And when he’s done, your essence dripping from his mouth, your nipples and clit perky and begging for more attention, trails of Kuroo’s cum littering your body, it’s Daichi’s turn and he carefully savors you, relishing in how sensitive and responsive your body is even if your mind is far, far away, blissfully ignorant of your current predicament.

Scene: Girl is taken advantage of.

You groan, head throbbing, the daylight sneaking through the curtains doing nothing to alleviate-

Wait, daylight?

Momentary panic sets in as your mind whirls to remember what had transpired, eyes taking in the strange room you’re occupying.

Had you…drank too much? But you could have sworn you only had a couple of glasses… Maybe it was just the exhaustion from the trying night you had?

Your thoughts are interrupted by knocking on your door and you instinctively tense up as a head of spiky black hair peeks out at you. Despite the questionable first encounter the two of you had, you had convinced yourself that it was just a misunderstanding, that Kuroo was just a little more crude and rough around the edges than the average person. After all, if someone as kind as Daichi was close to him, surely Kuroo couldn’t be so bad, right?

But now that it’s just the two of you again, no Daichi to act as a comforting barrier, apprehension freezes you as Kuroo ambles towards your vulnerable figure still tucked underneath bed sheets. You swear there’s hunger in those hazel eyes and you shudder under his gaze, feeling it rake across your body, shivering at how small you feel as he towers over you when he reaches you, his legs pressed against the bed frame, upper body teasingly leaning over you.

“Some water for Sleeping Beauty.”

Technically he’s not touching you, but that thought does nothing to comfort or protect you from the heat of his body or the vibrations of his words as he practically cocoons you, going out of his way to almost embrace you as he uses the act of carefully placing a glass of water on your side table as an excuse. But before you can even react, he’s already pulling away, a self-satisfied smirk splayed on his face.

“Prince Charming is making breakfast. Come down when you’re ready.”

As your thoughts race with the conviction that you need to do everything you can to escape this place, Kuroo hisses in satisfaction, calloused hand palming the growing bulge in his pants outside your closed door. Fuck, if only you knew how delectable you look, trembling, scared, at his mercy. He can still taste you on his tongue, his cock twitching as it remembers how perfectly your walls had wrapped around it. And he wants more.

Time to wrap this little play up.

End of Act 1.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere daichi #yandere daichi x reader #tw: rape #tw: somnophilia #tw: drugging #kuroo smut #daichi smut #haikyuu smut

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lightspeedrigmarole · 9 months ago

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Who’ll Stop the Rain ‘青春並不溫柔’ (2023) dir. Yi-Hsuan Su

#Who'll Stop the Rain (2023)#Who'll Stop the Rain #青春並不溫柔 #movies #wlw #such a beautiful kiss

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nevver · 1 year ago

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Who'll stop the rain? Karolina Jablonska

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hearts4renaa · 1 year ago

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JUST FOR THE WEEKEND.

summary: visiting your first love from your hometown is always difficult, especially when you both know you won’t be around for long. featuring arataki itto, thoma, and kaveh.

contains: 1.9k words. hurt no comfort. childhood friends to almost lovers.

a/n: i quoted lyrics from tis the damn season by taylor swift :) this honestly hurt to write, as a girl who thinks about hometowns and nostalgia very often

Sleep in half the day, just for old times sake. I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.

“Y/N, I got you a farewell gift!” Itto calls out happily. The familiar voice is like music to your ears. Returning home after so long was always interesting; especially since your usual trips frequented less and less as the time went on. But either way, you would come and go. And every time, Itto would be there to greet you with a smile. Leaving your hometown was hard. Leaving him was worse. But a small town in Inazuma couldn’t bring your dreams to life. However, Mondstadt could.

Itto can’t help but feel helpless whenever you return, only for you to leave again. He wanted you to chase your dreams, but he’d just wish he’d be there for that too. Or maybe he wished you’d find a way to stay. No matter what, Itto was there, and your feelings for each other were too. But he knew you’d eventually leave - who was he to hold you back? He remembers the last night before you left. Hushed whispers and pinky promises under the stars, making you swear to visit him as much as you could. “Of course I will, you’re my best friend.” was your response. The two of you knew it was more than that, but speaking up wouldn’t have made the goodbye easier.

You smile at Itto’s enthusiasm. “Oh yeah?” Your voice has a teasing edge.

He grins back, pulling out a small gift box from behind his back. He plops himself next to you, handing you the box. You open it with a screen-worthy smile, gently pulling out the necklace inside. The chain glimmered under the sunset, the pendant shimmering in the dim light. You look closely at the engraved words. “For old times sake.” it read. You feel your eyes sting with tears, facing away from him. You blink rapidly to hold them back, clutching the necklace. “Thank you, Itto.” You choke out. Your back faces him, but you can feel the melancholy coming from his form. Silence emerges between the two of you, apart from your slight sniffles.

“…Did you ever wish you never left?” Itto’s mood is a complete 180. The two of you were now back to back, unable to see the other’s expression.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is quiet. You know damn well what he meant.

“Like, Inazuma.” He says. “Did you ever regret moving away from here? From…” He hesitates for a moment. “…From me? Or us, if we ever even had something like that.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you regret it. How could you not? Sure, your career might be booming in Mondstadt, but what’s the point of stability with no satisfaction? With no him? Leaving all you had ever known and loved for an opportunity in Mondstadt. Besides, even if things became official, who said you guys would last? You knew you’d be busy. You couldn’t have been there for him like a proper partner. If you could go back in time, you’d turn down every opportunity if it meant you could be next to him. With him. But you couldn’t dump all of that on him now.

He sighed, taking your silence as an answer. You’ve never heard him so dejected before. “It’s okay. I hope Mondstadt is doing you well.” You feel the tears begin to build up again, but you can’t stop them this time. They fall freely, like rain in the night sky. He begins to speak again. “I think we could’ve worked out, you know.”

But that’s what stings the most. He was there. In some other universe, the two of you were happy, the whole time.

So I’ll go back to L.A, and the so-called friends who’ll write books about me if I ever make it. And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.

Thoma’s arms are locked around you, caging you in as if you’d disappear forever if he dared to loosen his grip. His bedroom is silent, save for the occasional hitched breath or soft sniffle. It was your first visit to Inazuma ever since the Vision Hunt was over, and Inazuma was open again. You left not long before the initial shutdown, and you were unable to return home, finding refuge in Liyue instead. You rebuilt your life in the land of Geo, becoming a successful writer. Liyue became your home, and your time in Inazuma slowly faded from memory. But there was one thing about Inazuma that you would never forget; Thoma. How could you forget him, your first everything. Your first kiss, your first date, the first boy to give you flowers.

Above all, he was also your first heartbreak. The pain of being away from him felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. But as time went on, you learned to live apart. You learned to be away from him, but being in his arms again makes you feel like you’re right back at square one.

“I have to go, Thoma.” You whisper. “I have to get back home.”

“You are home.” He chuckles lightly. “This is our home.” He gestures to the space around the two of you.

You sigh shakily. “No, Thoma,” You try to get the words out. “Liyue. I need to get back to my home in Liyue.” Your eyes refuse to meet his own.

His heart shatters in an instant as the realization hits him like a boulder. This isn’t your home anymore. He wasn’t your home anymore. To Thoma, nothing screams home more than you did. Your hair, your scent, your touch. Everything about you felt like home. You were his home, but he wasn’t yours anymore. His hold on you loosens.

“Right.” He murmurs. His arms drop slightly, but they’re still wrapped around you. “Liyue.”

You reach over to remove his hands from your frame, gently grasping his wrists. Once you’re fully out of his grip, you take a step back. The space between the two of you feels like the ocean separating your respective nations. Your respective homes. The silence is deafening. Your eyes direct themselves to the floor.

“I really think you’ll change the world someday, just like you dreamed of.” His comment is sudden, but the solemn edge to his voice makes it obvious that he’s been thinking about it for a while. You glance over at him. His eyes are downcast, deep in thought. “And I’ll cheer you on the entire time.”

That comment floored you. Your tears ran freely across your cheeks, creating rivers of salt. “Thank you…” Were the only words you could choke out. The two of you sat in silence for a while, but the setting sun told you that it was over. It’s time to go.

You make your way to his door, and he seems to catch on, following behind you. “Think of me while you make history, okay?” He lets out a sad laugh. You turn to face him one last time. A wry smile etched itself onto his face. You hug him one last time. You hug him so tightly it almost seems like you’re trying to commit his body to memory. He squeezes back. His lips brush against your ear.

“Have a safe trip home.”

And the heart I know I’m breaking is my own. To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever known.

“The Akademiya is running wild over Y/N’s return.” Alhaitham mumbled, flipping the page of his book. Kaveh freezes for a moment. The pair were in the Akademiya library, each doing a personal activity. Kaveh sets his pen down, rolling up his latest project without a word. Alhaitham’s eyes look up from his book, veiled sympathy in his look. “Do you think you’ll greet them?”

Kaveh sighs softly. “I don’t know. It’s been a while.” And he was right. It’s been over a year since you graduated from the Akademiya. Beloved and idolized by so many scholars, you made the choice to leave Sumeru in hopes of traveling the world. You made the choice to leave him. Kaveh, your childhood best friend, the boy next door. The boy who saw all your worst times. The boy who cushioned every fall and lifted you up again. The boy who adored you, but was far too afraid to bring it up. The boy who loved you endlessly, even as he watched you leave, unknowing that you felt the same.

He doesn’t even get the time to fully ponder Alhaitham’s question before he notices a figure begin to near in the corner of his eye. “Kaveh,” A voice says. He didn’t need to fully look up to know it was you. Alhaitham’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he ultimately decides to take his leave, muttering a quick goodbye. Having no choice but to face you, he turns his head to look up at you from his seated position.

“Hey.” His voice is meek, as if he was afraid to overstep. You notice his awkwardness, deciding to take the seat across from him. The silence is almost painful. Anyone could tell that the tension between the two of you was so thick it could’ve been cut with a blade. “How Liyue?” He asks, finally mustering the courage.

You hum, grateful for the long awaited conversation prompt. “It’s pretty great. I got to learn a lot of things.” He sees the way your eyes have a certain shine when talking about this foreign region. It stings him to see how he used to see that shine in your eyes back in your Akademiya days. Back when you weren’t so far away. You smile softly as you retell a brief recap of your Liyue adventures.

“I’m glad.” He says. “I’m happy that you got to do what you dreamed of.” His timid smile throws you off, and you realize that the once lived familiarity between the two of you is long gone. And you know that things like that can’t just snap back after a year of each other’s absence. The silence returns. You feel as if you’re suffocating.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You whisper.

He flinches. “Tell you what?” He’s nervous, and you can tell by the way his eyes dart back and forth anxiously.

“That you loved me.” Your eyes are like storms as you look at him. Not the thunder bringing storms, but the kind with the heavy rain where the ‘pitter-patter’ keeps you up all night. He was taken aback. Was he that obvious? Were you really able to tell? “I already know, Kaveh.” A sad smile etches itself onto your face.

“Yeah, I did.” He finally responds. You’re the one who flinches this time. Not because he admitted to it with little to no resistance, but because of his choice of words. Did. Not that he does. Past tense, did. He did love you. He loved you in the past, but he doesn’t right now. You freeze up, immediately going silent.

He takes note of your discomfort and stands up, beginning to pack up his things. “Sorry, Y/N.” He apologizes. “I have… some things to work on.” You’re silent the entire time. He carries his things into his arms before looking back down at your sitting form. He opens his mouth to speak once more. He hesitates. His mouth closes. He turns around without a word, his figure slowly but surely disappearing from your line of vision.

You sit and watch him leave, the same way he did for you.

#genshin #genshin impact #thoma x reader #itto x reader #kaveh x reader #aratako itto x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin imagines

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7698 · 8 months ago

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sister-lucifer · 8 months ago

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A Collection Of Lyrics That Remind Me Of: Tim Wright

And as I lay there gazing at the sky My body's numb and my throat is dry And as I lay forgotten and alone Without a tear, I draw my parting groan

— The Trooper by Iron Maiden

I've been trying to make it home Got to make it before too long Ooh, I can't take this very much longer, no I'm stranded in the sleet and rain Don't think I'm ever gonna make it home again The morning sun is risin' It's kissin' the day

Ooh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin' I don't' know where I'll be tomorrow Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin', whoa, whoa, whoa My, my, my, my, my For tomorrow

— Wheel in the Sky by Journey

Chances thrown Nothing's free Longing for, used to be Still it's hard, hard to see Fragile lives Shattered dreams (Go!)

— The Kids Aren’t Alright by The Offspring

Long as I remember The rain been comin' down Clouds of mystery pourin' Confusion on the ground Good men through the ages Tryin' to find the sun And I wonder Still, I wonder Who'll stop the rain

— Who’ll Stop The Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival

My head's hanging low and my shoes are worn I've had the blues in my soul since the day I was born The devil's been on my back now for quite some time Yeah, it's just been me and him, and the whispering wind And it's, it's time to find a little peace of mind

— Hey Mister by Poor Man’s Poison

dividers by @cafekitsune

#marble hornets #tim wright #song lyrics #iron maiden #poor man’s poison #journey #creedence clearwater revival #the offspring #masky

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izumi-fanclub · 1 year ago

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A3! Event Story Translation “Ah, My Dearly Beloved” [ Chapter 4 ]

Azami heads back to his parents' home to learn new information and an update on the performance Syu passed on to us.

Azami

…

Kumon

Aaazami! What’s the haps?

Azami

…I’m reading this book for an assignment.

Kumon

Oh yeah, that’s “The Tale of Genji”, right?

I wouldn’t know too much about it since I didn’t do it in class, but is it that difficult? You don’t look too happy.

Azami

It got easier to decipher once Itaru-san taught it to me. But… the content of it… it’s…

Kumon

Now that you mention it, it IS riddled with love stories.

Azami, you know what they say, there’s a first-time for everybody~.

Azami

Shut up, you decide to act like my senior now?

*Azami lightly punches Kumon* Kumon

Ahaha, owie!

Ah, there’s also this ramen place I wanna head to after school.

Azami

I’ll have to put in a rain check for today.

Kumon

You got somewhere to be?

Azami

…I’m off to my parents’ place for a bit.

Azami

Talk about a feast. Can I really eat all this…?

Sakyo

You don’t come home that often, so Sakoda poured his heart out into preparing these for you.

Azami

Still, that’s a ton of food.

Sakyo

I told him to ask the boss about it, cause he was so shocked that you’d come back home so openly.

Azami

…Shut it. I dunno why, but I just can’t stop thinking about it.

Chairman

What are you two muttering about over there?

Azami

Ahh… dad, I wanted to ask you something.

Do you know about a ryokan called “Sayuru Pavilion”?

Chairman

“Sayuru Pavilion”... That name takes me way back.

Azami

So you know?

Chairman

Of course I know. That’s where Sayuri used to work.

Azami

Mom worked there…?

Chairman

Not just that, that’s the place where we first met and where I proposed to her.

Azami

Seriously…?

Chairman

Uh-huh. I fell in love at first sight with her and went in for the kill as soon as I could.

Although, Sayuri’s relatives were particularly opposed to us, we eventually got together.

Azami

Huh…

Chairman

Now, why’d you suddenly ask me about that place?

Azami

I just came across some photos of it and thought it looked familiar.

So I was wondering if I went there when I was little.

Chairman

No… I don’t think so…?

Azami

(Then, why do I have a sense of deja vu from that place? Am I just imagining things?) Sakyo

Speaking of, boss, do you know about the night parties they hold once a year?

Chairman

…Yeah, well.

Azami

Sakoda

Here you are! Extra dishes just for you!

Sakyo

Oi, no one told you this was gonna be a banquet. Cut back on the portions.

Azami

… *sighs*

(I came all the way here and I only ended up with more questions than answers.)

Azami

Back.

(I’m tired. I’ll get my mind off my assignment for a bit and think about make-up instead.)

Izumi

Azami-kun, Sakyo-san, welcome home, you made it just in time!

Could I ask you two to come to the lounge?

Sakyo

What’s the situation?

Izumi

I received the plot of the script from Syu-san, so I wanted to discuss the casting.

Sakyo

Huh… The title… “The Tale of Genji”?

Tsuzuru

It’s just a tentative title.

Azami

…!

Izumi

The main character, Hikaru Genji, meets mysterious men in his dreams and reflects on his life.

It’s a fantasy based on the original “The Tale of Genji.”

Azuma

That kind of theme would fit such a beautiful stage.

Yuki

This means that the costumes would be from the Heian period.

Izumi

It also came with a note from Syu-san.

Note

“The lead may be a minor, but if you, who are inexperienced in female roles, give them a half-assed performance, the audience can definitely tell.”

“So I turned it into a wholesome one without women in it. I literally set this up for you, so work hard and don’t mess it up.”

Azami

Wholesome…

Sakyo

The question is, who’ll play the lead role? Izumi

It all narrows down to “a teenage boy”, it’s pretty limited even if we consider the entire theater company.

Azuma

The candidates would be… Masumi, Tenma, Yuki, Muku, Kumon, Puppy-kun, and—.

Azami

Yeah. …I’ll do it.

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#a3 translation #a3! translation #a3 #a3!#a3! event story translation #a3 event story translation #azami izumida #kumon hyodo #sakyo furuichi #ken sakoda #azuma yukishiro #tsuzuru minagi #yuki rurikawa #ah my dearly beloved

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chrisbitchtree · 2 years ago

Text

(I'm So Happy To Be) Stuck With You

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!!! 💕💕💕 Please join me in celebrating Billy and Steve’s love!!

Thank you to @gracethieved for supplying this great prompt!!

5.6k - T

***

Looking back on the day, as he and Steve stand side by side in Hopper’s workshop, waiting for the chief of police to cut through the handcuffs connecting the two of them, Billy can admit to himself that this wasn’t his brightest idea.

Hopper’s grumbling about what idiots they are, both for getting themselves into this situation, and for not coming to him sooner, after already chewing them out for interrupting his Valentine’s Day date with Joyce, but it’s all worth it when he tells them they’re free. Billy can only hope that Steve doesn’t storm off now that he’s not forced to be by Billy’s side.

***

It all starts three days before, when he and Steve are discussing their plans for Valentine’s Day. It’s their first one as a couple, but Billy has to watch Max that night, so that his dad and Susan can go out, so he wants to celebrate it on the 13th, because it’s the first time he’s been with anyone on Valentine’s Day and he loves Steve, even if he hasn’t said it yet. He’s planning to say it for the first time that night, letting himself be vulnerable in a way he hasn’t been in a long time, but Steve has to go and ruin it.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I can’t celebrate that night. I have a huge English test on the 14th, and it could make or break me going to college. Not all of us are smart enough that it’s guaranteed that we’ll get in everywhere we apply. I promise we’ll celebrate the next weekend.”

Billy knows he’s being a brat, but it doesn’t stop the words that come out of his mouth. “Some of us actually have to try at school. Not all of us have rich daddies who’ll take care of us if we don’t get in somewhere.”

He immediately knows from the look on Steve’s face that he’s taken things too far. Steve’s sensitive about his parent’s wealth. Billy knows that wasn’t always the case, but Steve’s tried really hard in the last year or so to eschew the protection his parent’s wealth has afforded him and tried to make it on his own. Billy’s really proud of him, and now he’s hit Steve right where it hurts.

“I’m so-“ Billy starts, but Steve cuts him off, turning towards his desk.

“I think you should go, Billy. I have studying to do.” He sits and opens the battered copy of Hamlet sitting in front of him. Billy’s supposed to help him with it, but he has a feeling his assistance is no longer wanted.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help?” he asks, softly.

“No thanks, I’ll call Nancy if I’m stuck.” Ouch, that one hurts. Steve knows that Billy’s not the biggest fan of Steve’s friendship with his ex, but he supposes he deserves it, so he just leaves instead of biting back.

He drives home with a lump in his throat and tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, but he thankfully manages to hold it in until he’s back home, in his room under the covers. Once he’s there, they pour, soaking into his shirt and blanket like a heavy summer rain.

He feels stupid and embarrassed, and frankly, underneath it all, still a little upset with Steve. He knows it’s not his fault that he needs to study, but Billy wishes he was more important than anything else in the world to Steve, and right now it definitely doesn’t feel like he is.

He falls asleep with his nose stuffed and head pounding from the drove of tears, his heart hurting and feeling about two inches tall, and in the morning, he doesn’t feel much better. As soon as Neil lets him leave the table after their mandatory family time Sunday breakfast, he heads out to the nearest payphone.

He’s praying that Steve picks up, but when he gets Steve’s mom’s snotty voice telling him that they’re not home right now and to leave a message, he hangs up and tries again, achieving the same result. He stands in the phonebooth, fighting the urge to drive over to Steve’s house, knowing it’s best to give him space. That lasts about five hours.

Billy knows that Steve works that afternoon, so after a few hours of stewing in his room, chain smoking cigarettes and lifting weights, he showers, does his hair and heads over to Family Video. He can see Steve retreating into the backroom as he approaches the door, and Billy’s left to talk to Buckley.

“Hey, Billy,” she greets him, tone neutral. “If you’re looking for Steve, you just missed him. It’s dead, so I sent him home early.”

“I just saw him go into the backroom,” Billy replies, peering over her shoulder.

Robin shakes her head. “Nope, sorry. He’s not here.”

Billy sighs. “Well, if you’re talking to him anytime soon, can you tell him that I’m sorry, and I’d like a chance to tell him directly?” He can only hope that Steve can hear him from his hiding spot.

Buckley nods. “Sure, I’ll let him know.”

Billy has no reason to stay after that, but he doesn’t really want to go home yet, so he drives around for a while, eventually parking on the side of a backroad where he can sit and feel like shit in peace.

***

Steve doesn’t return the two calls Billy places to his house later that night, so Billy officially decides to wait for Steve to come to him. He doesn’t, and it tears Billy apart, especially when he gets to the cafeteria on Monday to find Steve already sitting with Nancy and Jonathan, instead of their usual table with the rest of the basketball team.

Billy sulks, barely tasting the fries he’s absentmindedly dipping in ketchup as Tommy yammers on, telling some completely made-up story about banging Wheeler’s mom at a motel on the outskirts of town the night before. He keeps trying to sneak glances at Steve and is met with sympathetic smiles from Nancy until he throws the remainder of his lunch in the trash and heads to smoke under the bleachers until the bell rings and he can at least try to focus on his classes.

***

By Tuesday night, Steve still hasn’t spoken to him, so Billy gets desperate. He heads to Hopper’s to pick up Max, bringing along, as requested a book that Max borrowed from El and forgot to return. He rings the bell and he’s greeted by Hopper who takes the book and goes to get Max.

That’s when Billy sees them, Hopper’s handcuffs, sitting near the door, not even locked. Perfect. He pockets them just before Hopper returns with Max. They drive home in silence, Billy already formulating a plan for the morning. By the time to go to bed, he’s sure this is going to work.

***

The next morning, Valentine’s Day, he gets up extra early, putting a lot of extra care and attention into how he looks. He rushes Max out the door the second she’s done eating, determined to beat Steve to school. He has to for the plan to work. He drops Max off at school, then heads to the Hawkins High parking lot to wait.

Before long, Steve arrives and Billy sprints out of the car, determined to reach his boyfriend before he can run away without hearing Billy out again. Steve tries, gathering his books and walking as fast as his long legs will allow, which is almost too fast for Billy to keep up, but he’s finally able to grab him by the back of the coat.

“Steve, I know you’re mad at me, but we need to talk. I at least want a chance to say I’m sorry for how I acted and what I said.” He gets it out in a rush before Steve can push him off.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I’m not ready to talk yet. I’ll let you know when, ok?” he holds his books to his chest nervously, looking exhausted.

It breaks Billy’s heart, but he can’t wait any longer. He removes his handcuffed hand from his jacket pocket and gets Steve’s hand cuffed in before he can protest. “No, Steve. We’re going to talk, ok? I can’t take this anymore. If I uncuff you, do you promise that you’ll talk to me?”

Steve sighs, sounding resigned. “Fine, ok. Let me go, and I’ll give you two minutes.”

Billy’s shaking he’s so happy. The same joyful shaking causes him to drop the keys to the handcuffs down a sewer grate the second he extracts them from his pocket. He and Steve both stare at the grate in horror for a minute, as if that’s going to get the keys back, before Steve starts to panic. “What the fuck, Billy. Please tell me you have another set of keys. I have to take that test in two hours. Tell me you have a solution.”

Billy desperately wishes he could say yes. He looks up to see Steve’s face red with anger.

“I’m going to kill you Billy,” he growls.

“I thought you had a test to write? Might be kind of hard to do that from jail.” Billy knows it’s not the time for jokes, but he can’t help trying to defuse some of the tension. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t work.

Steve looks ready to throw down. “Fine. I’m going to write this stupid test, then I’m going to kill you.” He drags Billy behind him as he marches into the school.

Trying to fight the blush he can feel covering his cheeks, Billy follows Steve down the hallway towards their lockers. Of course, they’re on the far side of the school, so what feels like every single student at Hawkins High gawks at them as the metal rattles between them. Their lockers are only two apart from each other, but it’s just far enough that they can’t each get into their own at the same time, and neither wants to give into the other, so they keep pulling each other back and forth. It’s not even 9am and Bill’s already sick of this stupid plan. Sick of the cold metal cutting into his wrist, and sick of only having the use of one hand. already over this stupid plan. The only thing he accomplished was making Steve madder at him than he already was anyway. He can’t even imaging what coach is going to say when they shows up as basketball practice like this after school. Finally, after ten minutes of bickering and one near miss when the poor freshman that has the misfortune of having one of the lockers between Billy and Steve tries to get her books into hers, they‘re were on their way to home room. If there’s one thing they can be thankful for today, it’s that they have most of the same classes and the same lunch period. Billy will have to skip his own English class to accompany Steve to his own so he can write his test. Home room is fine, since it’s just Ms. Click rambling on about the upcoming fundraising bake sale that the cheerleading team is putting on in the cafeteria at lunch and a reminder to show school spirit by cheering on the Hawkins Tigers basketball team this coming Friday’s game. Billy makes a mental note to get to lunch early so he doesn’t miss out on Chrissy Cunningham’s chocolate cupcakes. Steve loves chocolate. Maybe that’ll cheer him up a bit and get him to finally listen to Billy’s apology. It hasn’t occur to either him or Steve until they get to math class that that writing will be a problem since Steve’s right handed and Billy’s left handed, and of course it’s Steve’s right hand and Billy’s left that’re cuffed together. For fuck sake. They just can’t win. Mr. Jones eyes them suspiciously when they slide their desks together. “Hargrove, Harrington. What are you two doing back there?” He makes his way to the back of the room, and they hold up their wrists for his inspection.

“A stupid dare,” Steve mutters. “We’re going to deal with it as soon as we can, but we didn’t want to miss any schoolwork.”

After the amount of classes they’ve both skipped, Mr. Jones can’t really argue with that, so he leaves them to it.

The majority of the class is spent dragging their conjoined hands back and forth, leaving pencil marks all over their desks and papers, until Billy promises that he’ll share his notes with Steve later if Steve lets him do the writing. It really isn’t much better that way though, what with having to drag Steve along with him every time he moves his pencil.

And Steve isn’t doing much to help, turning his hand into a dead weight, lower lip stuck out like a pouting child. Billy takes a deep breath, stopping himself before he can say anything rude or hurtful. He got them into this mess in the first place, so he just has to take what Steve gives.

They tell the same tale to their history teacher, Ms. Simmons, and she leaves them be, so that class goes much the same, Billy writing notes and Steve making it as difficult as possible.

Halfway through class, he can see Steve start to tense up out of the corner of his eye, looking paler than he did earlier, and a little green, and at first Billy thinks Steve’s going to be sick. There’s been a bug floating around the school for the past month, so he’s not surprised. He prepares himself to run to the garbage can in the corner of the room, but then he remembers Steve’s upcoming test.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get Steve’s attention.

Steve barely spares him a glance, but Billy can tell he’s listening. “You’re going to do great on your test. I promise. I know you know your stuff; we’ve been studying for weeks with our special method. The special method had been that for each question Steve got right, Billy took off an article of clothing, and he if got them all right, Billy would suck his dick. It had been a rousing success.

Steve turns slightly, giving Billy the barest hint of a smile. “I know, I’m just worried that Mrs. Cartwright won’t let me take the test with you attached to my wrist. What if she says no? What then?”

Billy longs to run a soothing hand over his back, but he doesn’t think that’ll be received too well, so he settles for what he hopes are reassuring words. “Come on, pretty boy, you know how much Mrs. C likes me. I’ll sweet talk her into t if I have to.” He throws in a wink for good measure, and Steve only grimaces slightly in return. Billy will take that as a win.

The next awkward scenario they encounter is the washroom. Billy votes to hold it all day, but Steve insists he has to piss before English. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to focus with a full bladder, man.”

Billy sighs. “Maybe you should have forgone your three morning coffees for once.”

Steve turns to him, and if looks could kill, Billy would be dead right now. “You know I need caffeine to wake up in the mornings, and it’s not like I knew I was going to be chained to someone all day when I drank them!”

Ok, fair point.

Billy lets Steve drag him into the washroom, and tries not to look as Steve whips his dick out. They finish up quickly, and head to Steve’s English class. Hopefully his own English teacher doesn’t miss him too much. He’s sure she won’t though. He’s been on rocky ground in that class since he challenged her opinions on the Great Gatsby a couple weeks ago.

Mrs. Cartwright is on them the second they enter the class, handcuffs clanking between them. “Good morning, Steven,” She says, an amused smile on her face. “You’ve brought a visitor with you today? You know I can’t allow that on a regular day, let alone when we have a test.”

Billy gives her a megawatt smile, stepping in front of Steve to explain. “Hi, Mrs. C., I know Steve has a test today, but I’m hoping you’ll still let him write it, even with me hanging around. Literally.” He holds up their attached wrists and she rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke but lets him go on. “It’s my fault that we’re cuffed together. It was a stupid prank and I take full responsibility for it. So please let Steve write the test. I know it’s important. Please, please let him write it.”

At first, she seems unsure of what to say, but thankfully, she must hear the sincerity in his tone, because she relents. “Alright, you can both stay, but not a peep out of you the entire class, Mr. Hargrove, and if you guys show up like this again tomorrow, I’m not letting you in.”

They agree, and take their seats, Steve visibly shaking as he sits down. Mrs. Cartwright distributes the tests, and Billy whispers to Steve, trying to remind him to take calming breaths. Steve does, then resumes tapping his pencil on his desk.

Mrs. Cartwright puts the test facedown on Steve’s desk, wishing him luck as she walks away.

Once she says they can, the students flip over the tests. Billy pulls a book out his bag and ready with his free hand while letting Steve drag his left hand all over. He seems to be writing quickly, which Billy thinks is a good thing. He just hopes that Steve’s taking enough time to think his answers through. He really needs a good mark on this.

In the blink of an eye, the bell is ringing to signify the end of class, and with it, the test. Steve drops his pencil and lets out a breath so big, Billy thinks he may have been holding it in for weeks. His shoulders visibly relax, and the jittering doesn’t fully stop, but it lessens.

“Can I buy you lunch?” Billy asks.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he does nod, so Billy takes that as a yes. They stop at their lockers to drop off their books, better coordinated than they were earlier in the morning, aided by the fact that the girl they bumped into earlier sees them and turns right back around the way she came.

Books deposited securely in their lockers, they head to the cafeteria, making a beeline for the bake sale table and Chrissy’s cupcakes. Billy shells out for four of them, much to Chrissy’s delight, her ponytail bouncing and smile a mile wide as she hands them over.

“How are you and Munson doing? He get you anything for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks as she takes the bills Billy hands her. The previous fall, Cunningham and her boyfriend, Jason, had broken up, and to everyone’s shock, she’d taken up with Eddie Munson, guitarist for local band Corroded Coffin, leader of Hawkins High’s DnD club, and the town’s premier drug dealer. Billy had been surprised, but she seemed genuinely happy for the first time since he’d met her, so who’s he to judge?

“We’re good. Really good.” Her smile grows impossibly wider as she fishes something out from her uniform. It’s a chain with a guitar pick swinging from it. It’s sweet, and Billy’s happy to see that she’s being treated right.

Billy hands Steve the plate of cupcakes and leads him to the lunch line, where he buys them both a burger, fries, and a coke. They sit with the basketball team, Billy telling them to shove off when they start ribbing them for spending Valentine’s Day of all day attached to each other.

“But-“ Tommy tried to get out.

“This is the last time I tell you to shut your fucking mouth, Hagan.” Billy says, his eyes like daggers as he tosses a fry at the idiots head.

“I think I need a smoke. Steve, join me?”

“It’s not like I have a choice” Steve grumbles, grabbing his bag.

Tommy stands to join them, and Billy shoots him a look. “Not you, asshole.”

Tommy sits, and Billy and Steve make their way out to the bleachers.

“So, who do these belong to anyway, Hopper?” Steve asks as Billy lights his smoke for him. “He’s going to kill you when he finds out.”

Billy nods, filing that away as a conversation he’s not eager to have, right along with the one he knows Steve’s going to want to have with him about his recent behaviour.

They smoke in silence for a few minutes, giving Billy just a little bit longer, but soon, Steve turns to him.

“So, you wanna talk about why you handcuffed us together this morning, Bills?”

“It’s stupid,” Billy mumbles. “Embarrassing.” He takes one last puff of his smoke before stubbing it out under his boot.

Steve motions for him to continue.

“At first, I was just upset because I wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day with you. I’ve never had a valentine before, and I got all excited.”

Steve had a hint of a smile on his face as he bumped Billy’s shoulder with his own. “Awwwww, I’m your valentine, Billy? I’m honoured.”

“Shut it, Harrington.” Billy replied, but there was no heat behind it. “Anyway, I know I was being a baby about it, but I wanted a special night for the two of us. We don’t get to do special a lot. But then I had to go act like an idiot and ruin it all. Sorry, again, by the way, for what I said. I still feel like a piece of shit about it.

I just built it up so big in my head, and got scared that it wouldn’t just be a little breathing room, and that you’d never talk to me again, so I got desperate. Hence the handcuffs. Clearly not my best idea ever. And now you’re pissed at me, and Hopper is going to be pissed at me.

It’s just that we’re reaching the end of our senior year. We might not end up going to college together, and are we really going to make long distance work? If you even want to try long distance? I never even bothered to ask. Maybe you want your freedom, so you can bang other people. Then you’re going to meet a chick and marry her, and where will that leave me?” Billy knew he was rambling but was finding it hard to stop.

“Woah,” Steve said, placing a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “First, I’m not pissed at you, Billy. I mean, I am, about the handcuffs, but not the other stuff. Yes, I was upset about what you said, but I know you don’t mean it, and we all say things we don’t mean when we’re upset, sometimes. Honestly, I should have communicated better. I just needed some time to get the studying done. We’re going to have to talk through the other stuff later, but I promise you that I have no intention of running off with someone else. I like you a lot, and we have a good thing going. I don’t want to lose that. If I forgive you, will you forgive me?”

Billy nodded. “Deal. Now, we have a couple hours until basketball practice. We can’t skip, because you know how much shit coach gave us last time, but until then, can I take my valentine for a milkshake at Benny’s? I promise, as soon as my dad and Susan are gone tonight, I’ll talk to Hopper and figure out how to get these things off.”

“Ok,” Steve nodded, his smile brightening. “I’ll allow it.”

***

Benny, the owner of Benny’s Burgers, is rumoured to be in a relationship with Mr. Scott, the middle school science teacher, so his restaurant is Billy and Steve’s favourite. They feel comfortable and safe there.

Benny barely bats an eye at the handcuffs when he brings them their shake, nor does he mention the fact that he’s put two straws in one strawberry shake. In fact, when they try to pay, he says it’s on the house, a kind smile on his face.

Billy and Steve sit and talk for over an hour, reminiscing about the memories they’ve made in their time together, and laughing about the time they spent as rivals when Billy first rolled into Hawkins. It seems silly now, to think that there was a time that they weren’t best friends, lovers, and so much more.

Once they’ve drained the milkshake and they’re skirting on the edge of the school day, they head back to Hawkins High to face the coach.

***

It’s not until they get to the locker room that they realize that since they’re attached, they can’t change into their gym shirts. They walk out into the gym in their standard issue green Hawkins High gym shorts, Billy in a grey Henley and his jean jacket, and Steve in a blue and pink striped polo.

“Harrington, Hargrove, what the hell is going on?” Coach asks, the second they step into the gym, his eyes laser focused on them.

“Well…”

“Ummm…”

“Laps. The both of you. No stopping until practice is over.” He shakes his head. “Not sure why I would expect anything more from my co-captains…”

Well, that could have gone much worse, Billy thinks, as he and Steve start to jog around the perimeter of the gym. It’s hard for them to keep pace with each other, as Steve’s longer legs lend to longer strides, but they do their best to meet in the middle.

They try to take their punishment seriously, for the sake of saving face with the coach, but it’s hard with the stupid handcuffs clanging between them. He’s starting to feel like he and Steve are prisoners on the run. At first, it’s just a giggle that escapes him, but before long, Steve joins in, and they get louder and louder, until they can barely move, doubled over with laughter.

“Are you two looking to stay an extra hour and run some more laps?” Coach calls from the other side of the gym. That shuts them up quick. They need to get out of here as soon as possible and get these stupid things off.

Finally practice ends, and after they put the balls away in the equipment storage room, per the coach’s instructions, and head to the locker room to shower. It doesn’t occur to them until that point that that won’t be easy. Billy votes for just skipping the shower, but Steve votes shower and Billy is hardly going to argue with him.

Billy has to remember to try to look uncomfortable having Steve’s naked body so close to him. It’s not easy, because fuck, he has a beautiful body and Billy’s obsessed with it. But he has to remain calm. No boners allowed.

Steve showers first, with Billy holding Steve’s shirt at his wrist, trying as best as he can to keep it out of the spray of the shower, but Steve has no such concerns for Billy’s body. He does everything he can to make sure Billy gets as wet as possible. When he’s sure no one is looking, he throws Billy a wink.

Steve takes forever to finish his shower, one handed as he is. It’s not exactly like Billy can help him without raising suspicions Once Steve is done and toweled off, he holds Billy’s shirt while he has his turn. He’s quick about it because he knows Max will be waiting.

When they get out to the Camaro, Max is leaning against it, backpack slung over one shoulder and her skateboard under one arm.

“Hey, shitbird,” Billy says, by way of greeting.

“Hey, Max.” Steve adds, tisking fondly at Billy.

“Hey, asshole… and Steve?” Max replies as she hops into the backseat and buckles her seatbelt. Once she’s in, Billy and Steve begin awkwardly shuffling into the car, Steve having to climb awkwardly over the centre console, almost hitting his head on the way over.

“Do I even want to know what this is about?” Max asks, sighing.

Billy isn’t sure what to say. Max knows he and Steve are friends, but he can never be sure if that’s all she knows, and he’s definitely not going to ask.

Steve just laughs. “Probably not.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t mention it again, except to ask where they got the cuffs, and what they’re going to do about it.

“They’re Hopper’s. You up for a trip to see El at the cabin this evening?”

“Oh shit,” she laughs. “He’s going to kill you when he finds out you took his handcuffs. And lost the keys. And he’s having Joyce over tonight. He rented El and Will a movie and he’s ordering them pizza and making Joyce a nice dinner. He’s gonna be extra pissed at you for interrupting that.”

Billy gulps. Of course, this can’t be easy. And on top of that, he has to somehow explain to Neil how he came to have Steve Harrington handcuffed to him. He asks Max if she has any ideas about how to get around that.

“Simple,” she says, way to comfortable with making up lies on the spot. “You call Neil from and my mom from the arcade and tell him you’ve brought me there to play some games for a bit. My mom isn’t making dinner tonight, so they won’t care. As long as you guys are detached by the time they get home at 10, you’ll be good.”

Billy nods and Steve thanks her. She’s a genius.

***

The plan goes off without a hitch, Susan quickly agreeing, telling Billy to have Max home in time to do her homework.

That taken care of, Steve insists on taking Max for a burger before they head to Joyce’s, so they head back to Benny’s for the second time that day.

This time, they actually spot Mr. Clarke among the crowd of kids grabbing an after school snack to ruin their dinner with. He’s sitting at the counter, and Benny’s handing him a plate of heart shaped pancakes, with bacon on top, also arranged in the shape of a heart. The two men are having a lively conversation of some sort, Mr. Clarke’s arms waving all around, as if explaining something, and Benny’s head is thrown back in laughter. It makes Billy smile to see them together. It gives Billy hope for his future with Steve, seeing two older queer men living a happy, comfortable life.

Once they’re done there, they head to Joyce’s house. Billy thinks about calling ahead but decides it might honestly be better to just show up unannounced. There’s a small chance that he’ll yell less in person. Or maybe he’ll yell more. Only one way to find out.

Once they arrive at the Byers’ house, they get out of the car and walk up to the front door, placing Max in front of them for protection. They ring the bell and wait. Will appears at the front door a minute later, El peering over his shoulder.

“Uh, hey guys, is Hopper here?” Even as he says it, he can already hear Hopper’s heavy footfall as he makes his way to the door.

El and Will retreat back into the living room and they’re face to face with Hopper, his arms crossed over his chest. “So, here to return something to me?” Of course, he’s already figured out it was Billy that took the cuffs. Max, the little rat, pushes past him to join El and Will.

Billy gives Hopper his most charming grin as he holds up his and Steve’s conjoined wrists. “Sorry? Please help get them off?” It comes out like a question, and he flinches, waiting for Hopper to tear into them.

Hopper sighs. “You know, I’m not even going to ask what happened here. I’m way too happy today to care. Please just promise that it won’t happen again. Ok? Just one question though, why didn’t you just use the keys?”

Billy and Steve mumble something about the sewer grate, and Hopper just shakes his head. He grabs his coat, leading them out to his shed. Minutes later, after some assistance from a pair of bolt cutters, they’re free. They both rub their wrists, sighing in relief and thanking Hopper.

“You know,” Hopper says, as they head back to the house. “If there’s somewhere you’d rather be tonight than watching Max, we’ve already ordered a pizza for Will and El, and they’ve rented a movie. Max can stay, if you want to pick her up at about 9?”

They take him up on the offer immediately, thanking him profusely. Billy lets Max know the plan for the evening, then he and Steve hop in the car and head to Steve’s house as quickly as they can. They’ve got three hours, and it feels like they've got a lot of lost time to make up for.

Once they’re in Steve’s bed though, they take it slowly, because what’s a few days when they think of all the years they’ll be together. Really, they’ve got all the time in the world.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #valentine's day #harringrove valentine #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes

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