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netherfeildren · 5 months

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Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

New Year’s Eve follow up

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him.

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter.

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?”

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother.

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done.

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers.

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine.

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.”

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad.

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has.

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside.

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there.

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust.

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot.

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it.

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass.

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough.

“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him.

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him.

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go.

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately.

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this.

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him.

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that.

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.”

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby.

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you.

New Year’s Eve follow up

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

#vic fic #Joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/ you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fic #the last of us au #Joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal characters

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kaiser1ns · 17 days

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𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.

╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?

╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡

ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.

Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.

AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.

ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.

GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.

ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you

It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.

ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?

Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.

SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.

As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.

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assriels · 20 days

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here i go again

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst

a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise

(banners by @/cafekitsune!)

part one

When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.

Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.

Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.

Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.

Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.

The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.

And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.

He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.

Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.

Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.

And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.

But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.

It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.

But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.

As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.

It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.

Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.

Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.

So, you decided to test the theory yourself.

It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.

(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)

You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.

Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.

You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.

Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?

The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.

If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.

You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.

Azriel.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.

You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.

You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.

In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.

You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.

You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.

You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?

Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.

So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.

One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.

The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.

And that it wasn’t him.

You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.

However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.

The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.

“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.

Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.

He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.

“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.

You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.

Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.

He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.

You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.

But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.

“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”

He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”

After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”

You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.

“Az…”

“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”

His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.

“I love you.”

Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.

A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.

Cass…?

Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.

Hey, you.

He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.

Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?

Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.

Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.

You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.

He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.

Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.

Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.

You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.

Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”

You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.

“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”

An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.

“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”

Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.

You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and…I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”

Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.

Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.

Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.

“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.

“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.

What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.

Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.

So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—

“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”

He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?

The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?

Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.

“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”

Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.

You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”

You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.

Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.

In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.

As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.

“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."

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wttcsms · 1 year

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diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?”

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features.

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year.

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age.

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment.

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence.

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with!

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes.

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore.

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”.

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan.

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.”

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either.

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!”

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession.

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud?

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now.

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you,

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.”

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty.

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence.

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.”

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience.

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is.

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry.

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze.

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him.

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back.

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes.

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway.

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you.

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway.

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens.

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.”

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.”

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even.

“Y-you’re a virgin?”

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole.

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.”

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity.

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver.

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now.

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.”

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again.

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak.

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain.

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession.

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down.

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around.

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only.

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed…

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #one shot #lemon

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swiftispunk · 4 months

Text

✨ = indicates smut | ‼️= indicates dark content | 💔= indicates angst | 🌸= indicates fluff

｡･ﾟﾟ･main masterlist･ﾟﾟ･｡

series

-> in my hometown (COMPLETE) ✨💔🌸

series summary: [PRE-OUTBREAK] you've had a crush on joel miller for as long as you can remember. there are just a couple of problems with that: one, he's ten years your senior and your dad's best friend. two, you're moving to LA in the morning.

-> your summer dream (ONGOING) ✨💔🌸

series summary: [NO OUTBREAK] fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit in joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days at a tropical resort with you and your parents.

-> good to me (COMPLETE) ✨

series summary: [NO OUTBREAK] a three-part series chronicling the smutty adventures of reader and gynecologist!joel miller.

one shots

-> look at this godforsaken mess that you made me 💔

joel is a sad guilt-ridden sadboy (and also your touch-starved drug dealer). joel and reader are sad and get high together, that’s it.

-> what i need ✨

reader has a bad day, joel gives you what you need aka the one with joel miller knifeplay.

-> here in your doorway 💔🌸

your fiancé tommy breaks off your engagement. you seek comfort in the arms of your best friend, who just happens to be his older brother, joel.

-> say it with your hands | part two: put your lips close to mine ✨🌸

ellie convinces joel to see the town masseuse. it goes mostly okay.

-> stay here, honey ✨

porn no plot. you sit on dbf!joel’s lap at a party, it’s a whole thing. (daddy!joel)

-> creep it real! ✨

a masked angel. a rugged cowboy. you're the answer to joel's prayers...until he realizes who you are.

-> snowflakes, a fireplace, and you ✨💔🌸

you get more than you bargained for when you end up snowed in at miller's inn on christmas eve.

-> mine all mine, part two ✨💔🌸

joel helps you forget. read part one by @mrsmando.

-> for you, for me ✨💔

joel makes a bad day better.

requests

-> in her defense 💔🌸

an unexpected attack. a protective instinct. a heartfelt exchange. (aka when a stranger tries it with ellie, reader steps in and joel is a guilt-ridden sadboy about it.)

-> rare ✨

request: If you're still accepting fic requests, could i request a smut fic with joel using the hitachi wand on the reader? i doubt theyd be able to find one in the apocalypse but for sexy purposes, it'll work!!

-> taking mine ✨

request: Can I request possessive, jealous Joel + comeplay 😳

-> yes, sir ✨

request: Omg this may just be the southern girl in me but reader calling Joel “sir”. Just had to share this thought with someone.

-> mad love ✨‼️

request: Could I request reader getting turned on after Joel goes feral on some guy who tried to touch her and eventually fucking feral!joel

-> skinny dipping with joel ✨

request: Shy/innocent reader skinny dipping with extra horny Joel and he uses the opportunity to make some moves 😄😄

-> joel miller cumplay thoughts ✨

request: IM CONVINCED JOEL LOVES TO CUM INSIDE YOU AND THEN GET FILTHY AND EAT YOU OUT ok thank you for coming to my ted talk

-> style ✨

request: Can we get some glove kink up in here?👀 maybe he shows you a nice pair of leather gloves he found and puts them on and this awakens something in you. I mean the smell of leather, his thick fingers even thicker in them, the way they glisten when he touches you…

-> this is our place 🌸

request: the main idea is basically domesticity/intimacy and i had javier peña in mind but to be honest, it can work with joel as well. either way, it would be about soft mornings, waking up together. maybe reader helps javier/joel to shave, they get dressed together and have breakfast. it’s normal and it’s soft and there are a lot of giggles and kisses and love and everything that there isn’t in either shows

-> focus on me ✨

request: i just really need to read joel spitting in f!reader’s mouth during sex… like, i rlly can’t stop thinking about it. just food for thought! *flees*

-> holding back ✨

request: i've been thinking of smut written from joel's pov?? like it could still be reader ig, but we're in his head, and he's experiencing it?? what would that be like 😳

-> anomaly (sequel to rare) ✨

request: i was wondering if youd see it possible for reader to convince joel into using [the hitachi wand] on him? i dont know if it makes sense to u in their dynamic but if so, would u be willing to write something on it? id honestly die for needy joel.

-> flesh and metal ✨

request: Hello! If you’re taking requests currently (if not I apologize), but I have one that’s eating away at my brain. Joel and a reader with nipple piercings.

-> needy!joel drabble ✨

request: pussy blinded joel, just... HAS to fill reader up.. just as to.. they can worry about it later but for now he just needs to see that pretty little thing dripping with his seed..

-> lie to me (non/dubcon)✨‼️

ao3 only: Joel corrupts an innocent shut-in and makes her his personal cock warmer.

non x reader

never let me down again (joel & ellie) 💔

-> this is me trying (joel & ellie) 💔🌸

jackson. a flashback on a film reel sparks a memory. joel tells ellie how it feels.

-> peace 💔🌸

jackson era, post-tlou. you and joel discuss what it means to die.

｡･ﾟﾟ･main masterlist･ﾟﾟ･｡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #masterlist #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller one shot #long post

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bonny-kookoo · 3 months

Note

I’m obsessed with my princess. I’ll take a late night snack if you have one 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

Since I've been yelled at to make more brat tamer kook content: Here you go, some sweet tension!

Jungkook has come to learn that you know very well how to get under his skin by now.

And you also, not just on occasion, make it a fun game for yourself to see how much you can annoy him before he snaps. Maybe because he's been pretty lenient with you compared to how he would normally like to go at it. He can't really do much about it either- his wolfblood constantly telling him to put you back into your proper place in the pack.

A pack he doesn't have, but that doesn't mean his instincts know that too.

Jungkook doesn't have many canine hybrids as friends, except maybe Yoongi. But since he's bonded to his own partner, Jungkook doesn't really feel any sort of need to care for him like he does with you- though he's not too sure why he's starting to get so attached to you either.

You're just friends- and even that would technically be a stretch to say. He doesn't know you, and you don't know him either.

But he can't deny the fact that he really.. enjoys this game of push and pull you two constantly seem to engage in, every bark sent into your direction only momentarily causing you to follow his word. Maybe you're instinctively able to really figure out if he's being genuinely angry or upset at you, or if he leaves room for you to try and test him on his threats, because otherwise, he'd not be too sure as to why you're just so good at walking that line with him.

And sometimes he has to admit, his fingers are itching.

Just like today, where you're just constantly annoying him by either repeating his words for no reason, or by making his job absolutely impossible. Though, taking care of you at your apartment and making sure you're getting the hang of normal everyday life-tasks wasn't really in his job description, to be fair. He's not even getting paid extra for this.

Why is he doing this again?

He's not sure, but he also can't really think about it for much longer, because right now, you've overstepped the line. There's no way you don't know what you're doing, and no one can blame him for physically acting on this, because how dare you.

You just bit him.

And he's reacting accordingly, at least if someone was to ask his instincts in that moment, a hand on the back of your neck pressing you down into your couch, while you growl to yourself. And the second he realizes what he's doing, he wants to apologize-

when he notices your tail wagging. Even this right now, is still a fucking game to you.

"Don't tell me you're pissed just cause I nipped your arm there." You laugh, probably sensing that he's not serious yet. "Boo-hoo. Now lemme go, I wanna watch TV-" You start to struggle, successfully slipping out of his grip- but he's not done yet.

He can't let this stand.

So just as you're ready to slip off the couch, he grabs you by your waist, just to pull you back, his body entirely covering yours, keeping you in place while he bites your neck.

Scruffs you, like the spoiled, unmannered pup you are.

And the reaction is almost instantaneous- compared to how on other occasions you've simply accepted and reluctantly agreed to his scolding, right now, you're fully submitting, tail between your legs underneath him, a soft whine coming from you. And it's now that he realizes, he's never had the upper hand over you, never had you under control at all.

You've always simply let him win.

Once he lets go of you, ready to apologize for acting so harshly, you instead crawl onto his lap, clinging to him, quietly. Visibly in need for his comfort again, desperate to get back on his good side.

Oddly how he remembers himself acting when he was younger, and scolded by his own parents.

Suddenly, you're not all that bold anymore, not even apologizing, simply leaning into him, rubbing your cheek against his clothes whenever he stops holding you. It all happened so quickly that he doesn't even process it that much right now, but all he knows is that whatever happened definitely got the message across for you.

"I'll never bite again.." You mumble into his shoulder, hiding away from him, and he laughs, running a hand up and down your back.

"No, it's fine. It just caught me off guard." He explains himself. "I'm a wolfdog mix, so I apologize I reacted like that. I couldn't really help it." He offers you, and you nod.

"No, I was being mean." You defend him. "Can I continue cuddling you? Or do you want to leave?" You ask, giving him the genuine option to go- and he knows, he probably should.

But instead, he shakes his head, and sits a bit more comfortably.

Holding you until you fall asleep, while he watches some random TV channel in your apartment.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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nexysworld · 18 days

Text

Dead Dove, Content Entitlement, and Fandoms

There's been no end of posts clogging up popular fandom tags with arguments and opinions on dark content, dead dove, and related things. While I've seen some decent posts that go over media literacy and dark content, I personally feel like none fully encompass my entire feelings on this nor provide all the points that I feel are important.

I know people have strong feelings on this subject, and I'm not expecting to immediately change anyone's minds. But I hope maybe I can toss some food for thought out there, or provide further context from both a victim of SA as well as a content creator. This has been bothering me for a while now to the point where it has been making me no longer want to write or engage in fandoms on Tumblr, and so I needed to get this out there with my stance. I've also had people in my inbox stating that my dark content is somehow morally better than other writer's dark content. TW: Mentions of dark content including discussions of noncon/dubcon, harassment, SA, etc.

Addressing Common Points

If you write or consume [INSERT CONTENT], you're romanticizing and endorsing it and that makes you a bad person. Or, you're weird/wrong/gross for it. I see this brought up primarily with dubcon/noncon topics. It should go without saying, but fiction is fantasy, it's separate from real life. Adults who consume this type of content understand that these things are NOT ok in real life. But to take it a step further, I want to stress that having noncon fantasies is actually INCREDIBLY common. In studies regarding these fantasies, nearly 50% or more of people who participated admitted to having fantasies that align with these topics the majority of which are women. Not only that but these kinds of fantasies are even more common in people who have been victims of these crimes. This isn't some niche thing only liked by a minority of people. If you don't believe me here's an example of ONE study, but there's plenty of easily accessible information out there. By conflating consuming/writing this content with someone's moral character stigmatizes these feelings further and does more harm than good. And I know what you're thinking though. But why? Why would someone who's gone through something like that fantasize about something so awful? Why is this appealing to anyone, victims or not? Fiction creates a safe space to explore topics. In fiction there are no real victims, no one is actually getting hurt, it's all fake. The characters aren't real and if at any point as the reader you are too uncomfortable to continue, you can stop and exit. You can like the idea of a fictional person tossing you around, while also feeling uncomfortable if a real life man tried to pick you up a the bar or didn't take no for an answer. There's also "normal" things you can fantasize about, but not want to participate in IRL.

Hypocrisy and what is considered dark content? This won't apply to everyone, but I've seen a number of people who claim to be anti-dark content but reblog things that are non consensual, perhaps without realizing it. And this is especially true for those who are younger on here. Please understand that noncon/dubcon does not inherently need to be violent or gory. Any situation in which there's a lack of consent or a power imbalance is inappropriate. Somno fics? If it's not explicitly stated that it was agreed upon prior in the fic, that is still non consensual even if it's written to be "sweet.", even if it's a pre-established relationship. Professor x student fics? There's power imbalance there. There's a reason you cannot have a relationship with your teachers in real life. Hybrid fics? Most people write hybrids as completely sentient people who are treated as sex slaves. They have little choice or are "following instinct." You cannot consent to someone who literally OWNS you after adopting you. You get the gist. There's far more to consent than physically manhandling someone. Yet because these things are written in a way that contextualizes them as being "sweet" and "normal", they aren't considered dark content by many people. If you're ok with the above, you have to understand that these ARE forms of dubcon/noncon. I would even argue that these are more romanticizing of these topics than stuff that's far more explicit in nature. If you would be pissed if your IRL partner tried to feel you up in your sleep, but enjoy somno fics, or enjoy the Taboo of Professor Leon, but wouldn't fuck your actual college professor - then that is the EXACT way in which people who enjoy even "darker" content can enjoy the fiction whilst not partaking in real life.

It sets a bad example for younger people on the website/"protect the children." Children shouldn't be looking at smut in general, dark content, vanilla content, etc. I don't know what else to tell you. It is NOT the job of content creators to try and police what teenagers do on the internet, that's between them and their parents. The majority of creators who make 18+ content explicitly state MDNI and block those younger than 18 if we discover them trying to interact with us. That is the most that we can and should be expected to do.

[INSERT CHARACTER] would NEVER act like that, it irritates me when people write them as OOC. Fanfiction is by definition NON canon. The only people who truly know how a character is supposed to act are the people who created those characters. But I want to add on to this, there are plenty of times in which a character acts entirely OOC even in fluffy or vanilla fanfiction. Every writer is going to have a different interpretation of how a character acts or thinks - and yet it's only really complained about when it's dark content. These characters are not real. Leon cannot be upset or hurt by people writing dark content about him, because he doesn't exist. Part of the fun of fanfiction, at least in my opinion as well, is justifying certain things within the context. Many dark content writers will and do explain why the character became how they are or why they think that way using canon as context - not that I think it's required because fanfiction can be whatever you want it to. The point is, dark content or not, not everyone will be on the same wavelength as you about your favorite character.

Even if you're a victim of SA or other crimes, you should get professional help, not read dark content. This is a very bad take in my opinion. Mental health care can be incredibly hard to get. Reading fanfiction is free, it's harmless. But genuinely, imagine you're a victim of a heinous crime, and you're already struggling with feelings regarding it - to then be mobbed by people online telling you that you're weird and wrong for having the feelings that you do? This is also in league with my first point, but having these feelings are actually VERY normal. This is a healthy way to process the emotions in a safe environment where no real person gets hurt, where you can leave whenever you want. Stigmatizing these things does hurt real people though.

You're hurting other people who're victims of these things. Look, if a fic is not properly TW then I fully understand. Every victim will have a different experience, and while some may be ok with dark content, others won't. So if you open a fic expecting it to be one thing and it's another, that's shitty. But tags are there for a reason. If you see something marked Noncon, and that's triggering for you, no one is expecting you to read it. And here's the thing with tags/tw's as well, everyone's trauma is different. Something that one person might not consider dark content, or is generally considered innocuous might trigger someone else. If you are one of those people who think even seeing the trigger warning could be harmful to people, then that's a prime example of WHY you must curate your own experience online. Block certain words, tags, and phrases to make sure you don't see them. But that's on YOU to do, not people who create content. Their only responsibility is to warn you about the contents of the content they've made, their responsibility stops beyond that point. You know what DOES affect real people besides the stigmatization of their feelings or kinks? Harassing them. Leaving hate comments, telling people to unalive themselves. These affect the mental health of the real people behind the content that you don't like. I've seen death and rape threats SENT to dark content writers.

Dark content in other forms of media. It's interesting to me that the majority of discussion around dark content comes from people criticizing fanfiction specifically. Take horror movies for example. The Saw Franchise, we'll say. Do you think the creators of that series want to enact those horrible things onto other people? Do you think they want to be the victims of Jigsaw themselves? What about people who watch content like that? You probably don't think that they do. There's TONS of movies, music videos, even horror novels that have incredibly, and I mean INCREDIBLY dark dead dove content - and yet most people understand that the appeal is in the taboo. That it's fiction. That people who consume THOSE forms of media don't want to participate in those things but do enjoy consuming that content. But when it's fanfiction it somehow becomes a problem.

Entitlement and demand of fandom content. In addition to all of the above, there is a major uptick in people complaining about the content within fandoms some not even relating to dark content. "There's too many stories where reader acts like X." "I hate how so many people characterize this person because that's now how they would act!" "Why is there so much smut? Why can't there be more of {insert what I want}". This is FREE content made by people who do this stuff as a hobby. No one owes you content, and no one HAS to write the way you want them too. If there's tons of content like that, then it's because it's popular. Perhaps your version of a character is in the minority opinion, and that's completely ok!

What's the solution to all of this discourse?

Be the change you want to see! If you feel like there's too many x reader fics where the reader doesn't act how you want - then write it the way you want. Do you have head canons about a series or character that you haven't seen discussed before? Make that post yourself! If you don't feel there's enough fluff in the fandom - then create some! And if you don't want to make content yourself - request it, commission it. Interact with your favorite writers! Encourage them, don't demand. Talk with them about their work, leave comments, and reblog, reblog, reblog!! Being a part of the discussion and interaction is the BEST way to help the community thrive. Surround yourself with the content that YOU want, curate YOUR experience. Block every dark content writer you see if it helps. Go into your Tumblr settings, block words, block tags. Don't set yourself up to be upset or bothered by the content you're getting. Even if you read the above and you still think every dark content writer is a horrendous, awful person - the best thing to do is still block them. Block their content. Harassing them and complaining on it will NOT stop that content from existing. But you will continue to upset yourself by not curating your own experience.

~~~~~~~~

If you made it through all that, thank you for reading. I want to add that my blog WILL continue in the future to have a mix of both dead dove and regular content. I also interact with other dark content blogs, so if you're someone who followed me because of my "regular" fics and want to unfollow/block me, I'm ok with that. <3

#nexyspeaks #Leon Kennedy x reader #resident evil #fandom culture #resident evil writers #resident evil x reader

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dudeitiskarev · 1 year

Text

My One and Only

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: It's Derek and Savannah's wedding, and to Hotch, you're the prettiest person in the room.

Content/warnings: mutual pining; secret relationship; food and alcohol consumption; smut (18+ only please. Minors do not engage).

Word count: 7.3k

Author’s note: this one of my all time favorite fics I’ve written that is also based on one of my fav songs by miss Taylor Swift ‘Dress’. thought I’d post it here since I’ve been gaining some new followers and as most of my fics, it’s only on AO3. If you’re new here, welcome and I hope you enjoy! Mwahh!

Everyone’s eyes were on the bride—everyone but Hotch’s. Even before the ceremony started, his entire attention was on one of the bridesmaids: You.

You, on the other hand, were mesmerized by Savannah walking down the aisle in her gorgeous wedding dress—you smiled even bigger when she joined Derek at the altar.

“My god,” he said, staring into his soon-to-be wife’s eyes with a cheeky smile.

Only then you sensed a strong gaze on you. You subtly turned your head to the crowd and like a magnet you found Aaron’s eyes. You gave him a quick threatening glance before bringing your attention back to the couple. You could almost hear him chuckle under his breath from that far.

You’d talked about it when each of you got an invitation and he promised he would ignore you all evening, but it was hard keeping his eyes off you when you looked that stunning. That wouldn’t be a problem if one of Derek’s sisters wasn’t recording the wedding—oh, and if people knew about what you two had.

“Maybe we should bring a plus one,” you’d told him as an idea to keep the best profilers clueless.

You’ve been more than his friend for almost a year and no one suspected a thing—truly. Apparently, profiling never worked when it came to people you interact with daily. You both were experienced profilers too, and since the beginning, you knew well how to act around each other to trick everybody at work into thinking you were still just two normal co-workers that got along.

That’s how it was for over five years. Then it all changed when you both ended your respective relationships around the same time. Your breakup came first and was messier than his. He was there to catch your tears the same way you were all ears to him. You were lonely together and that woke up feelings neither of you thought would emerge from talking just a bit more than the usual. And one late-night kiss in his office was enough to start whatever you two had going on.

You’d been confused for a while about how you felt about him and took the initiative to take it forward. You apologized right away because you didn’t plan to kiss him. Ever. But he said nothing, kissed you back, and took you right there over his desk—the first and only time he allowed himself to lose his professionalism at work.

It was the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had and you became addicted to it—to him.

The officiant started his speech and when Derek began to say his vows, you snapped out of your flashbacks, holding your flower bouquet tighter by impulse. Your stomach fluttered while his voice floated inside the intimate venue, and you could only imagine how Savannah was feeling. She brought her palm to her pregnant belly, keeping it there the entire time Morgan spoke his heart out. He was like a brother to you and the fact that he had found the one made you wonder who you were gonna have the chance to share vows with in a hopefully not-so-far future.

You slightly turned your head to the crowd again when it was Savannah’s turn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hotch, the only person you wanted a life with. The person you considered was the one for you.

God, if he only knew.

“ ...And I promise to love you, ” she said. “ Today. And tomorrow. And forever... ”

Every word resonated with how you felt about Aaron and your chest swelled as if she was a messenger of your own heart. You hadn’t told Aaron yet but loved him, you have for a while now, but if there was another feeling beyond love, you sure felt it. You’ve never been so close to grazing the sky like you did whenever he kissed you; electricity rushed through you whenever you two were in between the sheets; with him around, you turned into the most stupid (in love) person in the room and you were more than fine with it.

"... I'd choose you to be my miracle over and over again. In this world and in any other… ”

You finally dared to look at him, finding his eyes on you again. Now he was the one who threatened you, gesturing for you to pay attention by raising his brows. You didn’t react—externally, anyway. Your heart was clenching because you’d never had this urge before; to jump over everyone and let the world know he was your miracle. That was the best way to describe who he was to you since he offered to be more than just a shoulder to cry on. He’d made you believe in love again and showed you how broken hearts can mend each other—heal together.

You took a subtle deep breath and kept your chin up, determined to avoid any unspoken flirting with him until the ceremony got to the exchange of rings, ending with the most romantic kiss you’ve ever witnessed.

“Okay! That’s enough!” Penelope—one of the bridesmaids too—said jokingly and the happy cheering got quickly replaced with laughs. You allowed yourself to search for Aaron then, something you always did whenever something funny happened just to see him laugh. His dimples were in their glory showing how proud he was. He may have never said it out loud, but you knew how much Morgan meant to him.

And that was only the beginning of the big event. After the brief ceremony ended, it moved to another venue inside the same hotel and despite all the bright lights and loud music, love was still in the air. It even radiated through every photo taken at the photoshoot setup you and Spencer had built yourselves that same morning.

“Didn’t know you guys were this artistic,” Morgan grinned as he ran his hand over a wall full of pink and white roses.

“It actually doesn’t take an artistic person to build this exact wall at all. Even a toddler could’ve done it,” Reid said while nodding, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t listen to him.” You nudged his arm. “It took us four hours to build it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Spencer agreed. “Four hours and thirteen minutes.”

“We appreciate the effort,” Savannah laughed. “Now can we please take the pictures? Baby is getting hungry.”

“Yeah, blame our baby,” Derek mocked her, placing his hand over her belly as he stood behind her, ready to pose in front of the professional camera. “I know you’ve been thinking about dinner all day.”

Savannah replied something between her teeth that made Derek laugh even more as they posed like the most attractive couple you’ve ever seen.

“They are so meant to be,” Penelope commented with the biggest smile, snapping her own pictures of them with her phone.

“I know.” You folded your arms over your chest with a proud smile that disappeared as soon as a familiar perfume enveloped you from behind, making your shoulders stiffen.

Although… that didn’t stop you from shifting your weight to one foot, a thing that made your curves stand out in a way you knew would only make Hotch react—more so when you were wearing that dress you’d picked with him in mind. His lips always ended up attached to your neck and shoulders. That part of you was his weakness and the day of the bridesmaids fitting, that was only one dress that made you think of his lips.

He cleared his voice as you expected to start making small talk with Rossi about Jack. You’ve always loved the way his voice became soft when he talked to or about his son. He’d told you how he wanted to bring Jack to the wedding but that he’d chosen to go to a friend’s sleepover—which was understandable. At his age, you would’ve picked your friends over your parent’s friend’s wedding too.

“Now pictures with your team.” Savannah smiled at Morgan. “You’re gonna want to see them when we’re old.”

“She’s right,” you popped in. “Come on guys, let’s all take turns to kiss Morgan’s cheek.”

“Mm-mm.” Derek furrowed his perfect brows, holding up a finger. “I’m a married man now.”

You stood next to him and pecked his cheek anyway before resting your head over his shoulder and pouting your lips in a fake-sad face.

“Spencer, you were so right,” you said loud enough for everybody to hear in between camera flashes.

“I know. About what? Exactly?”

“Today really should be a national day of mourning for all of us Derek lovers.”

“Oh, come on now.” Morgan swung his arms over yours and Penelope’s shoulder. “Just because I officially belong to my woman doesn’t mean you can’t love me anymore.”

“That’s true,” Savannah agreed.

You blew her a kiss that was sure caught on camera, then the messy BAU photoshoot started. Everyone traded places every three pictures, and in the last set you ended up in the middle of Emily and Hotch. There he went again, clearing his voice just to say nothing. He hesitated to place a hand on you, so you did him the favor and broke his awkwardness by wrapping your arm around his waist—and Emily’s too, of course.

“Is that a new perfume?” She sniffed next to your ear.

“It is,” you acted surprised, turning your head to her but clutching your hand against Hotch’s waist to get his attention—as if it wasn’t already on you. You’d sprayed some of the perfume he kept at your place and some of yours too over it, creating a whole new scent.

“I like it. It’s very… you.”

“Thanks.”

You could tell Aaron was trying hard to stay away from you as much as he could, leaning more to the opposite side. You did the same, pretending that Emily was the only person you were taking pictures with.

Then after the rest of the guests got pictures with the newlyweds too, the party began. The team had their own designated table. You took a short bathroom break before settling and when you came back, the only empty seat was next to Hotch.

There was no other choice, but you weren’t complaining.

Your dress lifted to your mid-thighs as you sat down and it got even higher when you crossed your legs, exposing your bare skin a lot more. Aaron shifted on his seat, bringing his clasped hands up attempting to cover his mouth.

He got so damn tense.

“What’s the menu?” You asked everyone, subtly moving your legs under the table to touch Hotch’s.

“You, apparently.” JJ raised her brows, gesturing behind you. “The photographer’s had his eyes on you all night.”

“What?” You asked with a soft laugh, genuinely clueless.

“Oh my god!” Penelope grabbed Jj’s arm in surprise. “I thought that was my imagination! He’s smoking hot.”

You turned your head and caught the guy pointing the camera at your table. He really was attractive, but Jj might have been exaggerating because he gave you the kindest smile.

“The alcohol is getting to your head already.” You rolled your eyes and scooted your chair closer to the table.

“I don’t blame him, though.” Emily eyed you up and down while whistling. Even Spencer took a good look at you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more pictures of you in there than Savannah.”

“Well, he better take pictures of my good side if that’s the case,” you played along.

“Oh sweets, you don’t have a bad sid–” Three constant clinks of metal hitting a glass got everyone’s attention. “Quiet now.” Penelope shushed herself, getting her phone out again to record Derek’s sister’s speech. “Sarah’s gonna talk.”

Aaron subtly moved his leg under the table and kept his feet next to yours. Whenever you sat next to him at the round table—which wasn't often—his feet always found yours. It was his way of saying he wasn’t being cold towards you as he pretended to be. And you hoped that was a new way of showing he’d gotten a little jealous about the hot photographer.

You wanted to tease him about it, run your fingers through the back of his head and assure him you had eyes for him only. Because you did, more so when he'd chosen one of his navy blue and perfect-tailored suits that made it hard keeping your hands to yourself.

You took a quick glance at his usually furrowed brows before focusing on the fun stories family members had to tell. You had a permanent smile on your face during dinner as they talked about Savannah's childhood and teenage years. There was a lot you didn't know about her despite her becoming one of your closest friends.

Unlike Derek. You'd heard at least ten different versions of the same stories and you never got tired of it. And on a more serious note, his mom brought up his dad with pictures of him projected on a screen, reminding Derek how proud he truly must be for his son starting his own family.

Morgan being emotional has always got to you. You knew how much he wished his son could’ve had the chance to meet his grandfather, but the sad moments didn’t last long. The dessert brought the sweetness and soon, it was time to get to the dance floor.

You weren’t the greatest dancer, but you knew how to move so you were designated to keep the guests motivated to dance with the other. You took the chance to at least dance one song with everyone—including Hotch. You tried to keep things low-key as always, so you decided to walk up to him, choosing to dance with Rossi first.

“Wanna dance?” You stretched out your hand to him.

“Ehh...” David hesitated. “Maybe later. Take Aaron first.”

“Don’t be lazy, Rossi. Come on.” You played it cool, ignoring Aaron completely.

“I’ll sacrifice myself for you.” Hotch tapped David’s shoulder as he took the last sip of his drink and rose from his chair.

“Sacrifice yourse-?” You looked at Hotch with a frown then waved your hand dismissively mid-sentence, casually holding him by his arm and said to Rossi, “You can’t escape me, Dave.”

“If you find me,” he barked back and worked his way to the bar with his empty glass in his hand.

You shared a casual laugh with Aaron as your feet took you to the dance floor.

“Don’t make it awkward.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. Nothing special, just like you’d done with Spencer a few songs earlier. The only difference was that Spencer didn’t make you feel like the prettiest girl in the room.

“I’m not,” he chuckled next to your ear and kept his hand respectfully over your upper back while the other stayed just a little lower as if you were made out of glass.

There’d been two slow songs in a row and the DJ didn’t seem to have the intention to change the mood just yet. They even lowered the lights, creating a romantic ambiance. Or maybe that was just your imagination and the fact that you were actually in his arms with everyone around like you’ve always wanted.

“We’ve never danced before,” you murmured close to his ear trying to keep an unamused face. You prayed your voice got lost with the music so the people dancing around you couldn’t hear how you were trying to flirt with him.

“We haven’t.” He softened his voice too. “But we’ve done way more than that.”

There was a twitch of a smile threatening to take over your lips, but you didn’t let it slip. Instead, you took a deep breath and slowly let it out as you said, “We have.”

It was strange. You were used to having his hands on you behind closed doors; inside a room where the only noise was his heartbeat against your ear. But like you said, you weren’t about to make it awkward. You cherished the moment because this was probably the closest you’ll ever get to be with him in front of everyone without them saying a thing. So you stayed there, hands clasped behind his neck as if it meant nothing – as if they weren’t shaking; as if you weren’t dying to just grab his face, kiss him in the middle of the dance, and whisper I love you for the first time one breath away from his soft lips.

“You’re tense,” he murmured.

“So are you.” You smiled, finding Jj’s eyes over Aaron’s shoulder along the way.

You pretended the smile was because of her and made an uncomfortable face, gesturing at Hotch with wide eyes. She’d never said a thing to you, but you were afraid she might be the only one who could suspect something about you and Hotch.

You were casually texting Hotch who was only a few feet away from you in his office about the plans you two had for the night, and you didn’t notice Jj had walked up to you from behind. She scared the shit out of you and you suspiciously locked your phone.

" Hiding something ?" She raised her brows.

" Uh… it's a surprise ," you lied. Which she believed—or you hoped she did—since her birthday was coming soon.

You told Hotch about it and he reminded you to be more careful when you made it to his place later that night. And though you liked how things were with him, you couldn’t deny that type of coldness hurt a little too.

“Is that really my perfume?” He kept his voice quiet.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

He subtly breathed you in and you almost melted in his arms. “It’s sweeter on you.”

You caught the photographer shooting pictures of you and Aaron and you waited until he moved around to tell Hotch, “I– I booked us a room. I thought since you gave us off tomorrow we could enjoy this place a little more.”

“What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“811,” you said before the song ended.

Breaking that dance left you with an empty feeling. That’d never happened to you before – missing him while he was in the same room as you – but for whatever reason, that dance meant a lot to you.

You tried to fill in that hole by dancing with the girls though it didn’t work much. You took a break from dancing and made your way to a quiet lounge room in the open. The sky was clear and the soft breeze was the only one who kept you company as you finished your third glass of wine.

“Do you mind some company?” An unfamiliar voice said from behind.

“Jesus christ!” You brought your hand to your chest startled.

Maybe it was enough wine for the night.

You turned around and caught a charming smile and a camera hanging from his neck.

“Sorry,” the photographer laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you’re fine,” You laughed too.

“I’m Louis.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself too. It may have been the alcohol but the guy was really funny and got to make you laugh more than once. You would’ve kept having a good time if he hadn’t tried to be smart.

“So, would you like to grab a drink with me after the wedding?”

Of course, he was trying to get inside your panties. What a turn-off.

“Sorry, but I’m taken,” you said without hesitation.

You really weren’t, though.

“Oh,” he looked around. “Well, is he here?”

Speak of the devil.

A silhouette at the corner of your eyes stole your attention.

There was Aaron—and Morgan—walking to the lounge room too with drinks in their hands. You wondered who’s idea was it to come just when you were being hit on by some guy.

Derek teased you with his brows while there was nothing humorous on Aaron’s face. You focused on Louis again, but the smile on your face was because of Hotch. Jealous Hotch.

“No,” you finally responded, sighing deep. “But I don’t see how that matters. I’m still taken.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

Nothing about Louis was interesting after you studied his behaviour and read his intentions. Still, you let him flirt with you—and definitely pretended to flirt back hoping Aaron would notice—until he excused himself to go back to his job.

You wiggled your fingers as a goodbye and slowly made your way to Morgan and Hotch, making your heels clack more than you had to.

“Someone took a special interest in you,” was the first thing Morgan said.

You stood in front of them, clasping your hands behind your back, and shrugged carelessly. “You think?”

"Princess, don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Batting those eyelashes, laughing too much, touching his shoulder–”

“You think that was flirting?” you cut him off.

“It was to me.” Morgan looked at Hotch.

“Hotch?” You—subtly—taunted. “You think that was flirting?”

It wasn’t the first time someone has hit on you right in front of him, but police officers weren’t as much of a threat to him as a photographer was, apparently.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt—” he confidently responded “—so I wouldn’t know.”

“I’ve seen her. She does this thing with her eyes,” Morgan kept going. “I’m telling you, Hotch, she was flirting.”

“That was bad flirting.” You rolled your eyes. “Which somehow still works with guys like him.”

“ Bad flirting? Well now I want to see your good flirting,” Derek continued, but his duties as a groom were needed and his name being called from the microphone saved you from that.

It was just you and Hotch now.

“Aren’t you afraid people are gonna see us, alone?” You stayed put on your feet, holding back the urge to get closer to him.

“Not really, we’re just talking.” He raised his brows as he spoke.

“We are.” Your eyes went to his lips and lingered there as you licked your own. “Party should be over soon, so… I’ll go back inside now. Are you coming?”

“In a little bit.” He gestured at his drink.

“Okay.” You took a step back. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“811,” he responded, sliding one hand inside his pocket and saluting you with his glass with the other.

You subtly tugged your bottom lip in between your teeth and eyed him up and down. You knew exactly what you were doing, indeed. “811.”

“Is this what your good flirting looks like?” He asked in a teasing tone as you were about to turn around.

“I don’t know.” You matched his voice, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not very good at it.”

He gave you a look that pierced through you, but you didn’t expose yourself and left him all alone.

You impatiently counted heads once the guests started to leave and shared a few secret glances with Aaron the rest of the night, which built in the anticipation. But sooner than later, the party was finally over.

“Who’s leaving with us?” Emily massaged her temple.

You didn’t pay attention to who answered as you were searching for Hotch. At this point, you weren’t even trying to be subtle about missing him, but he’d vanished.

Or so you thought.

You made it to your room almost with your heart broken, but when you checked your phone, his name lit up on the screen.

I’m gonna walk around for a while.

He was being careful—as always.

The alcohol had worn off already, and you needed some more. You ordered a bottle of wine to the room to make the wait more bearable and paced back and forth around the room waiting for it until the expected knock on your door blared inside the bedroom.

You smoothed down your dress and slowly worked your way to the door, dragging it open.

Not room service.

Aaron's broad shadow was standing there, both hands in his pocket.

“Didn’t front desk give you a key?” You let him in.

He shut the door behind him and kept on walking, forcing you to take a few steps back as he said, “they did.”

“Then why did you knock?” You stopped in the middle of the room.

“To make it more interesting.”

“You’re funny,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck the way you'd meant to do while you danced, staring up at him. “Did anyone see you?”

“No.” He delicately brushed his fingers across your cheek and placed a tender kiss on the other. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” You grabbed his tie to bring him closer and closed your eyes. “You?”

“This dress—” he murmured in your ear “—had me distracted the entire evening.”

“I knew you’d like me in it.”

He smirked as his lips traveled from your jaw to the corner of your mouth. Then he finally kissed you.

It was tender—too tender.

“It was made for you.” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip while murmuring against them.

“It was made for you to take it off,” you whispered and brought your hands to the back of his head, pressing your lips with his into the wet, desperate kiss you’ve been wanting all night.

His arms enveloped you entirely and his tongue didn’t hesitate to sweep yours. You’ve longed to have his rough touch melting into your skin for what seemed ages. It was always like that. After spending an entire day treating each other like any other mortal—when it was just the two of you—you both acted like two different people that had too many clothes. But it was more than that too.

To you, at least. And you liked to think that it was mutual.

“It’s always hard to keep my eyes and hands off you,” he said out of breath, letting the kiss rest. “But today—” he pecked your lips “—you almost made me want to risk it all.”

You returned the gentle kiss. “Why didn’t you?”

That was a heartfelt question that he’d rather let get lost in the desire.

His lips collided with yours again as his hands confidently sneaked under your dress, groping you with hunger. “God, I knew you were wearing the tiniest panties under it.”

“I chose these for you too.” You whimpered when he lifted his mouth to your neck and nibbled your skin.

“Not wedding appropriate at all,” he murmured in a playful tone while kissing your shoulder. He teased the strap of your dress with the tip of his tongue, lifting it off your skin and pulling it down your arm with his teeth. “Do you have to return it?”

“No,” you gasped. “It’s mine.”

“Good, because I’m gonna fuck you in it.” He scooped you by your thighs and plopped you on the bed, settling in between your legs. He trailed kisses from your mouth down your jaw and neck, getting rid of his jacket and tie in the process. “You should wear my perfume more often,” he panted onto the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin.

“Does it turn you on?” Your hands flew to tug on his hair. “Smelling yourself on me?”

With each of his kisses, your desire for him grew. Your heartbeat dropped to your pussy within seconds and it was nothing but ache and warm arousal leaking off you.

“Everything about you makes me hard.” He started to grind his hips while his lips went back to capture yours. “The things you do to me, can you feel it?”

You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. His erection rubbed against you, nestling almost too perfectly in between your still clothed folds.

“Yeah.” You bucked your hips to meet his.

“Yeah?” He pulled back, breaking the desperate kiss.

This time you were only able to nod and lift your hips off the bed to help him get rid of your panties. He dragged them down your thighs teasingly slow and threw them in the air.

The hungry look in his eyes while he lowered himself and lifted your dress up to your waist sent sparkles all over you. Your bare flesh was exposed to him now and though it was fascinating how he seemed to be at your will when you were that weak in front of him, you couldn’t deny how intimidating it was.

“I need you so bad.” You bent your legs up to your chest, tempting him with how wet you were.

He petted your sensitive clit with his thumb twice with a cocky smile before making himself comfortable by rolling up his sleeves and laying on his stomach so his arms would wrap around your thighs. His face now was one kiss away from your slick folds.

That embarrassed you in the beginning—how fucking wet he made you and how fast—but that only meant how much you wanted him, and you knew he loved the effect he had on you.

“How much do you want to come?” He kissed your inner thighs, digging his fingers on them too.

“Surprise me.” You relaxed your arms above your head, ready to receive whatever he wanted.

He ghosted a smile over you before circling the tip of his nose on your clit. You were so sensitive there already your body jerked a little at that first contact. His nose then was replaced with his chin, tracing rougher circles, and when he laid a light-feather kiss right there , you decided to close your eyes and enjoy the endless minutes of pleasure Aaron was about to give you.

There was no doubt he truly enjoyed being nose deep in between your legs, so you never felt bad when it was just him who used his mouth like that during sex.

“ That feels so good, ” you praised him, bringing your hand to his hair and running your fingers through it.

He hummed in response, sucking your clit into his mouth with light pressure and smoothly adding two fingers inside of you.

You rolled your hips against his face and in no time stars took over your eyes.

“Oh my g– mmm.” You pressed your lips together to shut yourself up because, shit, you were being embarrassingly loud and you didn’t want to let everyone know how good you were being fucked by Aaron’s mouth.

“I’ve been waiting all day to hear you moan.” He kept going with his skilled motions . “Let me hear you.”

His pleas were powerful and you couldn’t avoid letting yourself go. You moaned—loud—and smiled through it all because he deserved to know how good he made you feel; how good he was to you; how generous.

After that one, he went in—all in.

God, Aaron.

Fuck.

Just like that.

Please don’t stop.

Your mouth went dry from how much you praised him and gasped in pleasure. His mouth was exquisite. Every flick of his tongue and each sloppy sound he made brought you closer and closer to the—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

—Clouds.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You were snapped out of what was supposed to be your fourth orgasm, propping yourself on your elbows.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Fuck,” you threw yourself back down in annoyance. “I ordered that like half an hour ago.”

“That what?” Aaron said and went back to eat you out.

“ Mmh, wine.”

“More wine?” He reached for the closest piece of clothing and wiped his mouth, chin and fingers with them.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll be right back.”

He took a moment to adjust his erection inside his pants and worked his way to receive the wine.

“Thanks.”

The way he just casually said that got a laugh from you.

“What?” He placed the wine and two glasses over the night stand.

“Do you think he could tell what you were doing just now?” you laughed again, propping your knee up and playing with the hem of your dress.

“I hope he did.” He crawled in bed next to you and smiled into a kiss, sneaking his hand in between your legs.

He started to massage your clit right away. It felt good, but you needed him. “Hotch, just fuck me already.”

“Give me one more.” He grunted mid-sentence. “One more and then I’m all yours.”

How could you ever say no to that?

He rubbed your clit like he was against the clock, so fast and with the perfect amount of pressure.

There was that pleasure building once again.

Your sweet moans bounced within the room as the tingling sensations spread through you.

"Fuck, Hotch I—" you fisted the bed covers under you and turned your head to him searching for his eyes.

"I know, honey , I know." He had his eyes shut and brushed his nose across your cheek, subtly hissing under his breath as if he was in pain.

That word only slipped when he was pleasing you. You reached for his hand while you came, clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

You swept your tongue across his top lip to thank him with a desperate kiss. You hadn’t noticed how he had his eyes shut and his brows furrowed. You kept your eyes open to admire how much he was enjoying it and let your voice be free.

“There we go,” he whispered. “Good. So, so good.”

“It feels so good,” you whimpered.

“I know it does.” He kept lightly tapping your sensitive clit making your body jerk a few times. “Feels so good for me too.”

“Fuck. Please?” You begged.

He brought his milked fingers up to your mouth and slid them in and out so you’d clean them up, and pecked your cheek as if saying yes, now.

You clasped your mouths together and stood on your knees to help him get rid of his clothes between more desperate kisses. Your fingers shook as you undid his belt, and when all of his clothes ended up scattered over the floor, you lay on your back.

He adjusted himself in between your legs and slapped the head of his cock over your clit a few times while pinching your nipples, turning them into tight tempting buds.

“Fill me in, please,” you bit your lip, roaming your hands up and down over his forearms and biceps.

He reached for his pants and got a condom from his pocket. Your first time with him was the only time you took him raw, and you had to admit you wanted his bare skin rubbing inside of you again.

You stayed quiet while he tore the foil open and rolled it down his length, then without much warning, Hotch grabbed you by your hips and harshly flipped you around, angling your ass up in full display for him. You gasped between a small startled laugh, your cheek pressed onto the pillow.

It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to be this harsh with you, but when he did you knew you were about to be sent out of the orbit.

“Sorry about that,” he said in a cocky, deep voice that only got a moan from you in a positive response.

One hand circled your ass while the other guided his cock at your entrance, slipping it in just a bit. You wiggled your ass and continued what he started, letting him inside you inch by slow inch.

He groaned like a god and slid your dress up to your ribs, almost, but you didn’t want it off just yet. Like he said, you were waiting for him to fuck you in it. He withdrew his hips a bit to plunge hard into you again, making your ass bounce violently.

Then began to pound into you—hard.

You reached for his forearm and held onto it, glancing at him over your shoulder but your own smile distracted you mid way through.

There was a mirror perfectly placed by the bed, giving you the breathtaking view of Aaron slamming his body into yours from behind. It was mesmerizing—the way he threw his head back and licked his lips while gripping your hips until his fingertips disappeared into your skin.

You made eye contact with yourself, bringing your hand up to your mouth and caught your own moans against your palm, dissolving in the moment. The curves of his cock fit you everywhere and reached your spot with each of his loud thrusts.

“ Oh shit, oh fuck. ” You muffled your moans into a pillow, squeezing your eyes shut.

That’s never been one of your preferred positions. He went too deep and it’d hurt at times, but it hurt so damn good you arched your back even more and let yourself drown in the way he dug himself in you.

“ So fucking good. ” You smiled, “ fuck, fuck ,fuck .”

By the time your skin was glowing red by how hard his skin slammed against yours, you stood up on your knees and pressed your back onto his chest, turning your head asking for a kiss. He gave you his tongue while his hands reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it up and finally peeling it off your skin in the middle of softer thrusts.

He pulled you close and kept plunging into you until his breathings grew loud, his muscles tensed and his cock twitched inside of you, groaning deep at the back of your head. He wrapped his arms around you like his life depended on it—with a kind of passion that could’ve easily been mistaken with love.

You turned your head searching for his lips and return that same passion, but he circled his nose with yours and ghosted your lips with his breath.

A tender frown took over his face while his eyes scanned your face from up close. There was a glimpse of vulnerability in him right then. You couldn’t quite read what it meant, but it weakened you on the inside.

“God, look at you.” He smiled, and finished with one last soft kiss.

You both dropped like dead weight on the bed facing each other, legs and arms interlaced together.

It was still there—that look. You could almost see right through him.

He took a moment to toss the condom into the trash then joined you in bed again, bringing you close into a hug.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you want to be home when Jack gets back.”

“I’d love to stay.” He kissed you. “But yeah, tomorrow we have early soccer practice.”

You returned the kiss while nodding and brought your hand up to stroke his cheek. It was soft and cold with sweat which you kindly brushed away with your thumb.

If someone asked you two years ago if you ever imagined yourself like this—with an after-sex glow—because of Aaron Hotchner, you would’ve bursted out laughing. You still couldn’t understand how you ended up finding the love you always wanted in someone you’d known for half a decade.

Sometimes, all those years where nothing more than a polite handshake and respectful hugs happened felt like a waste of time. Other times, you convinced yourself it was meant to happen that way.

You stared at each other in silence and just the sound of the city in the background.

“Did you get jealous tonight?” You spoke after a moment, tracing random patterns over his chest.

His brows raised, thinking about it. “I might’ve.”

“I kinda’ liked it.”

“I bet you did.” He pecked your lips almost to erase your mocking smile.

“It suits you. The jealousy.”

“Well, it’s not a very nice feeling.”

“But it’s hot.”

“Oh?” He licked his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I think you did.” He kissed your ear.

You let him pepper you with kisses. Kisses that felt like home. Kisses that made you want to break the stupid wall you both had built and just confess how much you loved him; how you wanted those kisses all over your skin for the rest of your life.

“Hotch?” Your voice came out small as if anyone else could hear you.

“Mmh?” He groaned into another kiss.

“I– I think I–” I think I love you. “I think I’m gonna go home too.”

“You sure?” He pulled back and frowned with curiosity.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll call us a cab.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower first.”

“Care if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

You ended up doing way more than just showering together, though.

There was a large window in front of a spacious jacuzzi that let in the shimmering city lights. You didn’t even know you’d booked such a fancy hotel room. It was the perfect place to drink that expensive bottle of wine.

You both relaxed in the tub, drinking off the bottle between slightly drunk laughs.

Time with Hotch went by too fast, and if you hadn’t spilled the last drops of the wine in the bath you would've stayed there until the morning.

“Now you can call your taxi friend.” You wiped a happy tear from the corner of your eye, wrapping yourself in a towel.

You walked back to the room and searched for your dress. It’d landed over his jacket as if they were two matching pieces made by the same tailor.

You handed him his clothes and dressed together, stealing glances. You really wanted to stay the night with him. You almost provoked him with the dress so you both ended up in bed again, but you kept your cool and made it out of the room.

You were waiting for the elevator when someone came out of the room right next to it.

Oh no.

“What’s going on here?” Morgan’s eyes widened as he made a little gesture between you and Hotch with his pointer finger.

“I– uh…” You looked up at Aaron. He was just as flustered as you, and the alcohol in your blood didn’t help much. “We uh–”

It took Derek three seconds to put two and two together.

“Please don’t tell me it was you who had that moaning symphony going on.”

“W–what?” Your face was burning right now.

“Hotch? Really?” Morgan seemed more hurt than anything else. He was your best friend after all.

“I’ll explain it to you when you get back from your honeymoon.” You reached for Aaron’s hand and walked away as fast as you could without looking back while saying loudly, “Have fun in Cancún!”

You hurried through the hotel hallways, paid the room and hopped in the back of the taxi without saying a word to each other. If you hadn’t booked a room at the same hotel, Morgan would’ve never found out and your most precious relationship would’ve still been a secret.

The ride was quiet, but Aaron never let go of your hand. At least, he wasn’t mad about it. Or if he was, he didn’t want you to know. You felt guilty about it, but it felt so good too. You stayed looking out the window to avoid looking at him.

Fifteen minutes later, he broke the silence.

“Hey.” You turned your head to him and stared for the longest second before he spoke again, “I love you. Secret’s out. And I don’t want to hide us anymore. There’s no reason to.”

Your heart started to race so fast inside your chest you couldn’t form any coherent words.

“We’re here.” The driver glanced at you both through the rearview mirror.

You were still trying to process what the love of your life had just said.

“Hey, love birds, I ain’t got all night. It’s thirty bucks and counting,” the man spoke again.

“Do you want to come inside? So that I can show you how much I love you too?” Was all you could say as you reached inside your purse to shut the driver up.

But he didn’t. “Tik tok, tik tok, my friends.”

“I–” Aaron sucked in a short breath, reaching for his wallet faster than you and handing the man his money. “I think that’s a good idea.”

#Aaron Hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff

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saigethearies · 11 months

Text

lust struck

tetsurou kuroo x fem!reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contents/warnings: accidental aphrodisiac usage (reader), alcohol mention, praise, use of pet names, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, dacryphilia, reader and kuroo are engaged, service dom!kuroo

wc: 1.5k

author’s note: my first haikyuu piece! enjoy, y’all!

the faint noise of a whimper almost pulled kuroo out of his sleep. his mind merely chalked it up to be the sounds of a dream, the likes of which you and your sweet sounds often played the starring role in.

however, the second whimper accompanied by the feeling of something wet and heavy sliding back and forth on his leg definitely had his eyes snapping open.

blinking his drowsiness away, kuroo sat up in bed to see you, satin cocktail dress bunched around your waist, grinding your wet little pussy against his thigh.

his breath got caught in his throat and for the first time ever, tetsurou kuroo was at a loss for words.

regaining his composure as he heard a choked sob leave your lips, kuroo reached a hand out to your face. “quite the wake-up call you’re giving me here, angel.”

you looked up at him and the sports promoter was surprised to see unshed tears in your eyes, the water threatening to spill over your lashline as you continue to rock your hips against the exposed skin of his thigh.

“tetsu,” you whined out to him. “tetsu, i need you, i need you so bad please.”

normally you begging for him so nicely like this would put the biggest smirk on his lips. however, kuroo’s head was still trying to process what exactly the hell was going on.

the last time he saw you it was around 9 pm and you were heading out to have a girls night with your friends. he had given you a quick kiss to your lips, told you to be safe, call him if you needed anything, and sent you on your way.

now, it was 2 am according to the digital clock on his nightstand, and you were back here in your shared bedroom trying to ride his thigh like a bitch in heat.

“baby, it’s late and you might be a little tipsy, maybe we should wait till the mo-“

“tets, it hurts.”

he frowns. “what do you mean it hurts, baby?”

you choke out another sob as a tear spills down your cheek, grinding your core down onto his leg with more fervor.

“there was this drink I had at the cocktail bar, and i-i didn’t see until i finished it that there was some aphrodisiac in it.”

kuroo’s usually droopy eyes widened. an aphrodisiac?

“i-i thought it was just a gimmick, but now i feel like…like…ohmygod tetsu it hurts so bad, help me please please- oh”

your head was thrown back and the hardening and flexing of muscle gave new stimulation to your clit, kuroo’s large hands grabbing onto your hips and aiding you in moving along his thigh.

your fiancé gently shushed you. “it’s okay, angel, you don’t have to beg. m’ gonna take care of you, alright?”

you move your head to meet his tender gaze, nodding vigorously as the dark haired man leaned over to give you a kiss, one which you were more than eager to deepen.

the new facet of intimacy added onto the sensations your clit had been receiving for the past few minutes went ahead and tumbled you over the edge for the first time. unfortunately, the aphrodisiac you had consumed wasn’t letting up, for the scorching heat you felt was back in an instant.

“tetsu,” you breathed out to him, a pleading look in your eyes. “i need more.”

“then more is what my sweet girl will get.”

kuroo lifted your smaller body off of his thigh, turning you around so that your back was against his chest. he then hooked his legs over yours to keep you spread open, your greedy pussy exposed to air in the room that seemed to be feeling warmer by the second.

snaking a hand down towards your glistening core, your fiancé brought his lips to the shell of your ear. “my poor baby, you must’ve been suffering so much tonight.”

a little gasp left your lips as his thumb started to circle your clit, teeth nipping at your earlobe. you pushed your hips further into his touch, but couldn’t move much with kuroo’s legs keeping yours pinned.

“let me do all the work, sweet girl. just relax f’ me, okay?”

one finger slid past your slick-stricken entrance, quickly followed by another since you were already plenty wet. his fingers quickly began to pump in and out while his thumb continued its ministrations on your swollen bud.

you leaned your head back against kuroo’s shoulders as you cried out, the relief of having your pussy played with a saving grace after being subjected to the effects of the aphrodisiac for hours.

the sounds leaving your lips began to gain intensity as the dark haired man slid the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder, his other hand quickly going to knead at your tit as he fingered you.

“tetsu,” you panted out. “feels s’good!”

you felt your lover smirk against your neck as he began to pepper it with kisses, adding a third finger into your cunt and curling them.

tears streamed down your cheeks, so happy to feel all the wonderful stimulation your pussy was receiving. kuroo picked up the pace of his fingers even more, drawing harsher circles on your clit as well.

you struggled to vocalize to him what you were experiencing. “t-tets…”

“i know, baby, i know.”

and with one last flick to your bud, you were coming undone again.

“there you go, sweet girl,” kuroo cooed as he felt you creaming around his fingers. “does my baby feel better now?”

the answer to his question didn’t come from your words, but rather the hot feeling returning to your cunt, a pained whimper leaving your lips.

you tilted your head up, eyes hazy and brain fogged with need. “need you to fuck me, tetsu.”

the dark haired man quickly flipped the two of you over, your back pressed into the mattress as kuroo hovered over you. he quickly slid his grey sweatshorts off as you babbled to him.

“need your cock so bad, tetsu, fill me up, please.”

your fiancé grabbed the fabric of your dress, instructing you to lift your arms up so that he could rid you of the clothing. you obediently did as you were told.

as soon as he had both of you naked, kuroo grabbed hold of your hips and lifted them up slightly. bringing his hardened cock to your core, he slid his dick between your sticky folds.

“d-don’t tease!”

“‘m not, angel, i promise, just gotta get lubed up.”

keeping his grip on your hips, kuroo started to insert his big cock into you. every inch that he pushed in had you descending into another layer of euphoria, the feeling of being filled consuming your every thought.

“s’ full, s’ full!”

kuroo hummed as he started to slide back out of your sloppy pussy only to slam back in when he was almost all the way out. moans bubbled past your lips as he continued to snap his hips into yours, moving you to meet his thrusts each time.

the sight of your tits bouncing as he slams into you is a sight that will never get old, the dark haired man burning it into his memory every time.

leaning over you so that he could reach your lips, kuroo began to kiss you in between your moans. keeping one hand on your lower back for leverage, the other came to intertwine your fingers together.

“fuck, you feel so good, sweet girl”

he changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting deeper into you. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you let yourself fall further into the pleasure your fiancé was bringing to you, the effects of the aphrodisiac being alleviated with one snap of his hips at a time.

you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening once more, your free hand reaching out to grab onto kuroo’s shoulder. “tetsu, m’gonna cum!”

“then cum, angel, you deserve it.”

you weren’t sure if it was the aphrodisiac, your fiancé’s sweet words, or the fact that it was your third time cumming, but your final orgasm had you gushing around his cock, liquid soaking your joined pelvises.

“shit, sweet girl,” kuroo grunted, the sight of you squirting around his dick triggering his own orgasm as he spilled inside of you.

the two of you were still for a minute as you regained your breaths. resting his forehead against yours, the sports promoter gave a quick peck to your lips.

“now are you feeling better?”

you nodded, encircling your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair. “i am, i think it’s finally over now.”

“good, you were starting to worry me there, baby. not used to seeing you willingly beg so much.”

you felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“shut up.”

kuroo chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “i’m just messing with you.”

“i know,” you replied. “thank you, tetsu, i…i really needed you.”

“of course, sweet girl, i told you i’m always gonna take care of you.”

he brought your hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss on the back of it as your diamond shone in the moonlight.

“that’s why i put this pretty ring on your finger, yeah?”

(taglist: @dreamcastgirl99 @tired-biscuit @sigma-himbokuto)

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut

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arreuyas · 8 months

Text

Emperor! Gojo x Blind! F!reader

*⁠.⁠✧ In which the womanizer emperor got engaged in an arranged marriage with a blind woman.

warnings: mentions of adultery to which you will forgive; gojo is cruel towards your disability at the beginning; a bit of angst; suggestive content at the end, dirty words and cursing.

english is not my first language! i'm sorry for minor mistakes. and please, if you don't like the theme just scroll.

word count: 1.5k

—

GOJO SATORU went from crowned prince to a emperor way too soon, after the past emperor passed away. That might've lead him to worsen the spoiled, childish personality he already had. As a emperor, he could have anything he wanted and oh, Gojo was a lover of all luxurious and pretty things. He wanted, so he got it; it was that simple.

He lived a hedonist life, it wasn't a surprise for people that their emperor was a womanizer, considering how frequently he could call for more concubines to him room at the evenings. The rumours and gossips about his ways spread, and his reputation was far from being a good one. As a ruler, Gojo was lazy, always leaving the work, meetings, paperwork and any other management to his trusted subjects. He didn't really care about the situation of his territory.

And because of that, he was back-fired with something from years ago – a engagement. A contract that his father accepted when Gojo was only a baby, with a girl from a smaller kingdom that provided them with a lot of resources. His ‘trusted’ subjects were the ones to bring up the arranged marriage, because the other kingdom was pressing them for the ceremony, considering that both Gojo and the girl were above adulthood now.

Yet, there was a small problem. Gojo's supposed wife was blind.

That wasn't mentioned in the contract, but it still wasn't enough for an annulment. The Emperor would be damned to the marriage, wanting it or not. And oh, how Gojo wanted to kill his already deceased father for making him go through all that bother.

The ceremony was awkward, it wasn't a big thing like it would normally be – but it was something that both Gojo and you agreed on. There was no loving gazes, no happy guests, no happy couple. Only a political thing you two were forced upon.

The following days were even worse.

Your blindness wasn't really a problem when Gojo actually stopped to give it a thought. No, it was a good thing. He could just cheat. After all, what could you do about it?

For starters, you didn't bring any loyal servants with you, and the ones tending to you were loyal to Gojo. Second, it's not like you could see the evidence – the lipstick on the corner of his lips or the nail marks on his back. And if you did end up learning about it, well, wasn't it common for emperors to have concubines?

It was cruel.

Yes, Gojo knew. He knew that he was using your disability to his advantage. Maybe he did feel slightly guilty for you, but that didn't stop him from bringing women to bed.

And days passed since then.

He didn't know when, why or how. It was ridiculous, and he didn't like it one bit. But at some point, your clumsy self and obliviousness got to him. Gojo had to admit: you were adorable. And smart! You actually handled the politic matters with vast knowledge – something he never tried doing before because he was lazy. You were almost a perfect empress.

No, you were perfect.

He noticed that after a few weeks. How you would ask for directions with your polite, soft words to the servants and how your soft hands you touch things to identify them. How your eyes were always closed, probably because you didn't want people finding it disgusting – to which he felt bad, considering that he laughed at your condition just some days before. And your appearance, oh, how didn't he notice it at first? How beautiful you were. Truly, a goddess. It was saddening that you couldn't see yourself on the mirror and Gojo felt a weird need to tell you just how pretty you were.

At some point, Gojo started to communicate with you more, wanting to get closer to you – going as far as dismissing the servants and helping you himself. He would always walk you to the garden that you loved so much. He found himself missing you and asking the servants about your whereabouts. And the womanizer emperor started, surprisingly and shockingly, turn down women that swooned over him. Everyone was so shocked, because no one had ever thought that the spoiled emperor they knew would have such a drastic change.

You still couldn't forgive him completely. It hurt knowing that he made fun of you with other women because of your disability. It hurt knowing that he ignored you at the start of the marriage. And Gojo knew that you wouldn't forgive you that easily, but at least he was trying, right? Even if he was doing the bare minimum.

But at some point, you too started to appreciate his company. Of course, it didn't mean that you would forget, but you could forgive. ‘Only one chance,’ is what you said to him. And Gojo couldn't be more happier to make you the happiest you deserved to be – he would be damned to not take such a chance. He had already fallen for you. Maybe it wasn't love, it was still too early to tell, but he couldn't deny that it was very close to that.

Yet, people don't change everything from a day to another. Gojo didn't cheat anymore and he respected you, but his naughtiness was still there. It was hard controlling himself, specially now that he saw you in a new light.

He wondered how it would feel to hear your sweet voice calling him, moaning his name. He wondered how your warm fingers would touch his chest, biceps and back to feel around his muscles. He wondered if you were sensitive to the touch, like a person with a blindfold. He started fantasizing about you constantly, and every single time his cock would harden and twitch inside his pants. Fuck, you were so tempting.

One day, he drank too much. Gojo was a lightweight despite always stuffing his chest, saying that he was good with alcohol. But oh, he wasn't. Only one or two drinks and he would start rambling whatever came to mind loudly.

The emperor stumbled inside your shared chambers, his pale cheeks now pinkish and he was breathing heavily, almost sweating. You were laying down, but turned your head to the direction of the sound of the door opening and closing, surprised and slightly suspicious. “Satoru? Is that you?”

Gojo wasn't in his right mind. So, when he saw your laying form in your nightdress, those sexy thighs of yours and your cute, curious face- oh man. His mind automatically started to have the most dirty thoughts ever, already having a bulge on his pants. And you see, he was an experienced man. Yet, you were the first to drive him that crazy.

“Yesss~,” he mumbled as he approached the bed, falling down on the mattress and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “I mist yuw.” I missed you.

You had to hold back a chuckle when you heard his nonsense and by the alcohol smell you took notice that he was probably drunk. “Drunkard,” you said while patting his soft, white locks. The emperor almost purred like a kitten, hell, he loved your headpats.

He nuzzled his face on your lap, closing his eyes with a hum. It was then when he realized just how close he was to your thighs and he couldn't hold himself back. Not with that much of alcohol in his system.

“Ah! S-Satoru..?!” You gasped with surprise as you felt his teeth sinking down your skin, your body almost jolted and a pinkish mark was made on your thigh. “What are you–”

“I want you.”

You were surprised when you heard those words from his lips. After all, Gojo did stop sleeping with women. Yet he never once tried flirting with you, always respecting your personal space and boundaries — even though you hadn't set any. So you finally realized... that he probably must've had taken care of himself for weeks, alone.

Gojo stared up at you even if you couldn't see his pleading eyes. At this moment he wasn't a bratty, hedonist emperor anymore. Only a man that desired you deeply. “Please. I've been holding back for so long...” It was almost as if he wanted some sort of praise. He never acted submissive like that in front of you, so the alcohol probably was having some effect on him. However, he wasn't that drunk. Gojo knew what he wanted and what he wanted was you. So, so badly.

“Alright,” you finally said after a long time wondering about the pros and cons. You didn't have any experience with a man, first because you were a woman of power and couldn't simply sleep around without having your reputation tarnished. Second, because of your insecurities towards your blindness, and yet... You felt like you could trust Gojo, somehow. He wasn't that cruel man you met at the beginning anymore. He actually took your chance and didn't let you down once since then. “But be gentle... and stop if I ask.”

Gojo opened a happy, yet malicious smirk once he heard you – you would feel tempted to go back on your words had you seen it. “I'll stop whenever you want... but I won't make promises about the gentle part.”

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#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru imagine

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ohkkotsuu · 8 months

Text

𝐈𝐁𝐓 — 𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! choso kamo.

ৎ୭ PAIRING: choso kamo x gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns used, unspecified anatomy)

ৎ୭ ABOUT: your boyfriend never experienced many things from the normal human world, as a half-curse. he's fully convinced that he needs to be a better boyfriend. so, he'll do his best to be the best for you. he sets some rules to be a boyfriend, a good one.

ৎ୭ CW/TW: SFW. choso is just so sweet i wanna bite him, overprotective behavior (a bit), choso is a simp and he wants to marry you, this is really just him being head over heels for you, choso calls you some petnames, itadori and nobara are mentioned (not as a couple)! fluff. straight up fluff. i just wrote a lot of him being silly about you lololol maybe this will become a series?? with other characters maybe. also, please, if you enjoy it, tell me about it! i would love to interact more with reblogs and comments from you all.

CHOSO never knew what to expect from the future, always being surprised by the violent turns in his life. lose two of his brothers, find a new brother — and certainly, he hadn't expected to have his heart so deeply won by you. nor win yours back. a sweetness of fate after so much sourness, which he hoped to make it last.

so choso became your partner (apparently, a modern term is boyfriend, so that works too). however, he has no idea how to be a good boyfriend. that makes choso resort to the best wingman he knows, an expert in people and relationships — his brother, yuuji itadori.

and it's from there that choso actively engages in what yuuji called “intensive boyfriend training”.

said training consists in watching hours of romantic movies, flipping through cliché books with good male leads, even retorting to reading shojo manga to know how to act romantic. yuuji even enlisted the help of a friend, nobara, so they only have quality content for training. no toxic male leads, no weird unconsensual stuff. only the best examples so he could become the best boyfriend. choso wants to know everything about how a guy should act to be a good boyfriend. after all, you're his world, and you deserve the best and the best only.

curses acquire information from the brain of the vessel they inhabit, but choso himself has no relationship experience. Centuries of his life were focused solely on protecting his siblings, and that is still one of his priorities — but, another priority is also you. he sets down some personal rules to himself, just so he can guide his heart through this whole “being a good boyfriend” thing.

his number one rule is never lie to you. never. doesn't matter the circumstances, choso will absolutely always be truthful and honest with you. relationships are based on trust, love and sharing. you are the person who showed him that there are ways to love someone beyond platonic — and, in return, you'll have his heart and he'll have yours. you are a partner for life in his eyes, and he would trust you with everything.

he's always truthful about things: where he's been, who he's been with, how he's feeling, he doesn't hide anything. choso even overshares every now and then. in his eyes, there is not even a single reason to lie to you. originally, he hesitated at the question of “how are you?” if he wasn't doing alright. choso wanted to be your white knight, the one who could protect you and his brothers without having to be weak. he slowly opened up as he realized it wasn't wrong to be weak. another valuable lesson you taught him.

if he is not feeling well, he will be sincere and say that he is not feeling well. choso will usually asks for what he wants — hold your hand, cuddle, kisses, anything really. he is also very honest when you ask for outfit opinions, for example — he admires how different colors suit you, how different types of fabrics of many different looks adorn your body. you usually need to call him more than once.

“choso.”

“hm? yes, baby?”

his heart skips a beat when he sees your smile. “you're staring. did you like this one?”

unfortunately, his opinion for visuals isn't exactly helpful, per say. he thinks everything look pretty in you, and he'll be very straightforward about it, because it's never about the attires you wear for him, no — you are insanely perfect. you're what makes this clothes pretty, not the opposite. you are what makes his world more worth living.

“I love everything you wear. you look amazing in everything.” the corners of his mouth lift up a bit as he give you the usual lovey-dovey stare.

you giggle a bit, unable to stop yourself from thinking that he's just so cute, staring at you like that. as if you were the moon and the stars. or even more than that.

“thanks, choso, but we've been here for half an hour. I need help to pick an outfit.”

the second rule he sets for himself is to protect you and care for you. he's absolutely never taking you anywhere risky. he'll do anything to be sure you're safe — anything he can. choso is always off guard for you, you make him feel safer than ever. but he's not relaxing about other things.

he would never forgive himself if you were hurt because he's too relaxed. he doesn't always have to be perfect, he knows, but he will still give every last drop of his own blood for your safety and your smile.

he's always keeping an eye out for suspicious people or cursed energy. if any signs of danger appear, he is ready to catch you on his arms, bridal style, and just run away to get you somewhere safe — which has already created some situations that are as embarrassing as they are amusing. another option is him entering on this intimidating mode, if not the immediate fight response.

he also doesn't like curses, even weak ones, around you. he acquired the habit of killing them immediately, being careful not to splash the purple blood of the spirits on you. he also carries around a tissue, either to wipe his face if a drop or two has spilled or to wipe his hand — he would never hold your hand while his is dirty like that. this is his version of “boyfriend who kills bugs for you” (to be fair, he would kill bugs too, if they're bothering you). choso was surprised when he learned that this is something boyfriends do for their partners, watching it on a romance series where a guy kills a bug when his love interest was too scared to do the same.

he's protective, but he's trying to be careful not to scare you or be creepy. he pulls you by your waist, always so gentle, staring daggers at a guy at the mall, scaring him away.

“choso.” he turns his head to you, and his eyes soften immediately. “what are you doing?”

“that man was staring at you.” he says, a bit grumpy. you only giggle and lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek — something that makes his face pink and a soft smile creeps it's way into his expression.

“thank you. but you didn't had to scare him, I know that guy. he's an acquaintance of mine.”

“oh. should I get rid of him?” he asks.

“choso, no, that's not what I meant—”

the third rule is something he made up seeing romantic movies: be a gentleman. he was doing that already, by taking care of you, showing his love, but according to yuuji and nobara, people love when their boyfriend is kind and does stuff for them. which made choso really confused.

“people get..impressed, when their loved ones show affection and minimum care or respect?” he can't really understand it, but if it's what will make him a better boyfriend, he'll become the most cliche of a gentleman.

(he's totally unaware that he is one already, and that no one was expecting him to do more).

so he looks for all kinds of opportunities to do something for you. place your orders in stores if you are too shy to do so, carry your shopping bags for you, put his coat over your shoulders when it's cold.

the “problem” is that it becomes something on a medium-large scale. you don't carry anything around choso, he carries everything for you. even small bags. the only thing with you should be a purse or backpack (if you wear any of those), and even with that he offers to carry it for you.

then there comes a day when you two are walking and choso stops. before you can ask him what's wrong, he picks you up on his arms. you cling to his shoulders with a surprised yelp. one of his arms is under your legs and the other supporting your back like a groom carrying his bride — as he hopes that one day, he will be that to you. and much more.

he just carries you for a few moments more without even complaining. he never complains. he loves carrying you, doing things for you, and you weight nothing to him.

“choso, what are you doing? what was that for?” he looks down at you.

“there was a mud puddle in the way, dear. if you crossed it, you would get your shoes dirty.” he explains nonchalantly, with you still on his arms. he seems ready to put you down, if you ask for it.

you both know he would have you bridal-style on his arms for a whole day if you let him.

hearing your giggle makes his heart flutter. although, one of his eyebrows raise softly.

“choso, we could have just skirted around the puddle.”

“oh.” he hadn't thought of that.

the fourth and final rule is never forget. he should never forget anything about you or involving you. dating anniversary, your birthday, this man has it engraved on his memory. he understands that these are special days not only for human customs, but for him personally — after all, your dating anniversary is a celebration of one of the happiest days of his life. the day you and him became a couple.

he certainly thinks that day would only be surpassed by your future wedding anniversary. but these things can wait. the wedding can wait. he's happy just by being with you.

it memorizes all your preferences, from the simplest to the most complicated. he knows what kind of movies you like, which series you hate, which food you prefer for every situation. he has your favorite brands decorated so he can get those for you. choso memorized all your orders in coffee shops or diners so he can order for you, too. it also learns if you have allergies.

sometimes he can't really believe that humans have such organisms. resist some diseases, but if you eat a tomato being allergic, something like this kill a human? impressive.

if you are in a situation where another person is hanging out with you and they ask for something “wrong”, choso will politely correct them.

“no, actually, they're allergic to those.”

“my partner asked for this, actually.”

people may think he's being arrogant, by correcting everyone about what you want — but what surprises everyone, even you, is that he always get it right. he knows your gift preference: what items you like the most, or, if you like it, handmade gifts. he learns how to do those for you.

with a lot of help from the internet, yuuji and some moral support from nobara, choso sucefully made you a bracelet. he hands it to you carefully, a bit scared that you won't like it. it's one of those bracelets with letters on it, it reads:

“cho loves you”. you look at him, and he seems shy. this is the first time he actually made something instead of buying something.

“ran out of letters, so there was no way to have another S and O.” his tone is a bit apologetical, and his cheeks are pink. “I made it for you.”

before he can say anything else, you pull him for a gentle, sweet kiss. even such lovely action knocks the breath out of his lungs and makes his head spin. your smile when you lean back makes choso think he's in heaven.

“thank you, choso. I loved it, I loved it so much! help me put it on?” you ask with those cute puppy dog eyes.

and of course you could put the bracelet on for yourself, you both know it. but he accepts any excuse to touch you, and you want to see him do it. while he helps you with your new jewelry, it reminds you of the day he slipped a dating ring on your finger.

“done, baby.” he says softly, eyes laying on the bracelet and moving to your hand, where a ring that matches his adorn one of your fingers. his fingertips touches it softly and he smiles, whispering: “I'll marry you someday.”

“what was that, choso?”

“nothing.” he looks away, embarrassed. but in a way, you both know it: it's a promise.

©OHKKOTSUU on tumblr.

#ira.writes #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #❝ teeth rotting ❞#jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo #choso #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader

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honeysimagines · 11 months

Text

viva las vegas

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

plot: after finally confessing his true feelings Rooster and you are ready to take the next step... and the dagger squad is along for the ride

warnings: drinking, references to parental death and past trauma, inaccurate portrayal of he military

notes: this is a part 2 of home, for the readers that stuck around, for the anon that requested this, and for K ♡︎, thank you for letting me bother you with this for months

words: 21.6k

It was almost scary how normal life felt.

Rooster knew it wouldn’t last forever but for now he was more than content to just cuddle up with you in his arms. Sickeningly sweet domesticity had been so easy to fall into. One minute he was pouring out his heart to the love of his life and the next he was moving his belongings from his childhood bedroom to the master.

Even though he had spent every leave of the past decade waking up with you in his arms he never let himself get used to the feeling. He still wasn’t used to it now but he was also already dreading the end of his leave. If it were up to him, Rooster would pack you up and bring you along with him but even after everything he was scared to ask. You had your own life and he didn’t want to ask you to put everything on hold to follow him, especially since he still had to finish up his last deployment from before the mission. After his leave and the rest of his deployment were over he would immediately request a transfer though. Virginia hadn’t been bad while he was stationed there but it was never his home. And if he was able to be stationed closer he’d also be able to see you more.

Rooster told himself that he didn’t want to bring it up with you before he got everything taken care of. He’d hate for you to get your hopes up only to be let down if things didn’t work out in the end. But now, holding his mother’s old jewelry box in his hands, Rooster wondered if maybe he could do more than just get your hopes up. Maybe he could get his own hopes up just a little bit too.

The two of you had stayed cooped up in the house for a week when he had first come back home but at some point you had finally gotten a little too sore from fucking on every available surface so you asked him if you could take a break and go through some of his belongings together. Now that you were finally officially dating it only made sense to move some of his things out of the attic and down into the house.

His dad’s old record player and their record collection had found a place in the living room and framed Bradshaw family pictures had found their way back onto the walls but there had been some things Rooster couldn’t bring himself to share with you yet. One of those things being his mom’s jewelry.

Carole Bradshaw had never been one for flashy jewelry, she preferred flashy dresses instead. A firm believer in “dressing happy” his mother had never found a bright print dress she didn’t love. It was something his parents had in common and passed on to Rooster as well, even though he didn’t have many opportunities to dig out his fun shirts on the Naval Base.

His mother had never owned much jewelry. Her collection encompassed a couple of gifts from his father and a handful of family heirlooms. As a teenager Rooster once spent an entire summer running errands for anybody in the neighborhood that needed a hand just so he could save up enough to buy a nice necklace for her birthday. In the end Mav had chipped in as well but he had felt so proud of himself for getting his mother something nice. She had worn the necklace every day and after she passed they buried her with the slim gold chain and her engagement ring. Not her wedding band though. That was carefully tucked away in a little drawer of the jewelry box with a note he had found the day before while going through it, after bringing it down from the attic.

Truth be told he had never given much thought as to what happened to it. In the back of his mind Rooster had been aware that it was a family heirloom and that one day it would be passed down to him to ask the love of his life to marry him but he had been so young when his mother joined his father that the ring and marriage had never even crossed his mind.

And now he had the ring.

And he finally had you.

It felt ridiculous to consider marriage after only a week of dating but then again had it only been a week? The two of you had been dancing around each other for fifteen years by now. Nevermind the fact that he had almost asked you twelve years ago when you did barely more than fuck for a week before separating for months at a time before reuniting and fucking again.

With a sigh Rooster closed the box and tucked it away under his side of the bed again. He’d bring it up with you first. Ask if marriage was something you could see yourself doing in the future.

The moment he opened the bedroom door Rooster could hear soft music drifting through the house. It didn’t take him long to find the source of it—an old Elvis record was spinning on the record player in the living room and a scented candle was burning on the side table. He could hear you before he saw you, humming along with the song as you entered the living room holding two mugs as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Something about the fact that he had only been home for a week but it already became part of your routine to include him just made his heart race. It was so perfectly easy to see that he belonged here with you and in a split second he changed his mind.

Rooster watched as you placed the mugs down on the couch table and turned around, not surprised at all to see him standing in the doorway just leaning against the doorframe and watching you. The beautiful smile he loved so much hadn’t left your face all week and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you again and again just for a chance to feel it against his lips one more time. Neither of you said anything as he took a few steps into the room only for you to meet him in the middle. Your arms were open for a hug and as much as he wanted to tug you close and hold you until the world collapsed around the two of you the soft music playing gave him a better idea.

Instead of hugging you he used one of his arms to pull you closer, the other coming up to hold your hand as he started to sway with you. It only took you a few seconds to catch on to what he was trying to do and before you knew it you were moving along with him, letting him lead you around the living room.

“What are you…” You began, cutting yourself off with a laugh as he twirled you around before pulling you back in. “Okay.”

The rhythm of your dancing didn’t match the song playing at all but having Bradley twirl you around while Elvis crooned about falling in love felt like a dream. A sweet memory you would cherish forever.

As the song started to come to an end Bradley gave you a soft smile before taking a step back and spinning you around again until you felt all dizzy from the motion and love. Laughing and a little lost in the moment you almost missed him whispering as he tugged you against him again.

“Marry me?”

Had it been any other person, any other moment, you’d think that you heard him wrong or that your mind was playing a cruel joke on you but with him you felt nothing but safe. Cared for. Loved.

It didn’t feel like his question was rushed or insincere, instead it just felt right. Like it was meant to be.

Bradley had started speaking again, rambling on about a box and the Navy but you couldn’t follow it all, too caught up with his question. It didn’t matter if it had only been a week or an entire lifetime because deep down you knew Brad and you belonged together. In the most simple way possible.

Leaning up you interrupted Bradley’s rambling with a kiss, all too eager to give him an answer. “Yes. Yes. Of course. Yes.”

Pulling away you just looked at each other for a second before you started laughing again, holding each other and stealing kisses until you were left breathless.

“I love you so much.” He murmured against your lips.

His hands rested on your hips and held you just a little tighter as you responded. “I love you too. So much.”

The words had just left your mouth before you were suddenly lifted up. All but thrown over his shoulder, carefully, as Rooster turned around and started to walk out of the living room. Towards the stairs. Towards the bedroom upstairs.

“I… the tea is gonna get cold.” Was your only protest as you let yourself be carried. If your view of his backside didn’t serve as a good enough distraction, one of his big hands on your ass definitely did.

“Do you want to drink tea or do you want to go have hot engagement sex? And I still need to put a ring on your finger so I think we should do that right away.”

You didn’t protest as he continued on his way.

Tea and record player long forgotten.

The blissful giddiness of your new engagement lasted for a day before the reality of wedding planning set in. With Rooster being gone so much, the end of leave, and the rest of his deployment looming over everything he was starting to get a little lost in his head.

When you had woken up in the morning after with your head on your pillow, entirely on your side of the bed without him wrapped around you it had been a bit weird but you hadn’t felt concerned yet. Rooster had still been in bed with you except he was sitting up against the headboard on his side, illuminated by the soft glow of the rising sun falling through the window from where you had forgotten to close the blinds last night and the light from his phone screen. He had frowned down at the screen before shutting it down and tossing the phone onto the blanket between you two before pulling you into his arms and giving you a proper good morning kiss.

When he was occupied with it during breakfast as well it made you a little curious but you were as occupied with the ring on your finger as he was with his phone so you let it slide.

It had only started to worry you when he was still frowning down at the screen by the time lunch rolled around. You were curled up on the couch, albeit on opposite sides. Bradley had pulled your legs into his lap so you could sprawl out, holding them in place with one hand, his thumb rubbing up and down the soft skin on your ankle while the other was holding his phone.

Nervously twisting your ring on your finger you watched as he typed away on his phone, a frown still etched into his face. It wasn’t in your nature to be jealous, after all you had let him go again and again until he had come home to you, so it wasn’t like you feared he had a secret affair hidden away. Still you were scared.

“Do you regret it?”

His head snapped up so fast it made you flinch just as the prospect of him potentially hurting himself with the fast movement. If the frown had made you worried, the poorly hidden devastation that graced his face now just made your heart hurt.

“No!” He dropped the phone into his lap and grabbed your lower legs with both hands as if he was scared you’d pull away. “I… I don’t regret it.”

Bradley fiddled with his hands too, eyes fixed on where you were still twisting the ring around on your finger. “Why? Do you regret it?”

“No.” You told him, seeing the tension fall from his shoulders. “I love you and I want to marry you. But you’ve been frowning at your phone all day and it just makes me feel like maybe you’re not as happy as I am.”

“I am happy. It’s just ” Bradley answered quickly before trailing off. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

“Can you tell me anyways?”

He took a deep breath before leaning back, looking at the ceiling instead of meeting your eyes. “We have less than three weeks left before I have to leave again. I’ll be overseas for a few months and after that I’ll have to report back to Oceana and even if I request a transfer now there’s no telling how long it’ll take to be approved or if it even gets approved. I like flying with the Golden Warriors but there’s no telling if other squadrons have spots open. Weddings take forever to plan and I’m scared that if we don’t get married before I leave you’ll change your mind. That’s why I’ve been staring at my phone so much. I was trying to figure out all the things we need to plan but the list is just… endless.”

It takes a few seconds to fully take in his words, his worries. Part of you is relieved that he thought about things so much. Bradley tended to be carefree most of the time, a real go with the flow kind of guy unless he really cared for something and then the worrying and overthinking started. The way he was so lost in his own head not even 24 hours after he asked you to marry him just spoke to the fact about how much he cared for you and your future together but that only made you frown. You wanted Bradley to be happy, not worried.

“I won’t change my mind.” You stated, trying your hardest to reassure him. “We’ve been apart before and we’re still here.”

He didn’t look at you until you leaned forward and took his hands in yours, holding them almost delicately before changing your mind and really holding on. “It’s never been like this before.” He said quietly.

Sad eyes. That was the first thing you noticed about him when you met and it’s the first thing you focused on now. Bradley was never able to hide his emotions.

Sitting up straight you asked him as if you didn’t know the answer. “Three weeks you said?”

Bradley nodded.

“Alright, we can go to city hall next weekend and sign the papers.”

He just stared at you as you continued.

“We just need to make an appointment beforehand and… why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’d really be okay with that? Just going in and signing some papers?” He never dreamt about his own wedding but in every rom com he ever watched the women always talk about how they’ve been thinking about their weddings since they were little girls. He’d seen his parents’ wedding pictures with his mom in her poofy white dress and his father in his uniform smiling at the camera. The last thing he wanted was for you to settle on a quick five minute signing of a document instead of the dream wedding you deserved. “No big flower arches or harpists playing as you walk down the aisle or signature bride and groom cocktails at the reception?”

“Signature what? No. All I want is you.” Pulling his hands closer you pressed a kiss right at the spot his ring would sit before looking at him again.

“I don’t need a big fancy wedding Bradley. All I need is you and me and somebody to sign the papers. Besides…” You trailed off just a little bit melancholic, “Who would we invite anyways.”

Your last words made him pause just a little bit. Neither of you had much family and friends to speak of. If his squadron hadn’t been deployed at the moment he’d probably invite them as well as some superiors out of courtesy but there was nobody he desperately wanted at his wedding except…

“I should probably introduce you to Mav.”

Planning to surprise Mav with a visit turned into a surprise for him in return when he asked the older man for the address of the hangar only to be directed to the address of one Miss Penelope Benjamin instead.

Just until the higher ups are done with me, Mav had said, Sarah offered to let me stay with her and the kids but Penny’s house is closer to the base. Rooster didn’t comment on the unspoken fact that Penny’s house is closer to Penny as well.

Rooster was glad that his godfather was finding love again but he felt just a little bit uneasy showing up to a practically stranger's house so he opted to just get a room at a motel for a few days. He didn’t want to impose and that way you could still meet while also going your separate ways at the end of the day.

He wanted to mend the relationship with Mav, he really did, but he was also scared of moving too fast. Their day trip out to the hangar was one thing but spending nights in the same house came too close to living together. Rooster could only imagine sitting across from him at the breakfast table like they had done twenty years earlier when Mav lived with them and his mom was still alive, flitting around the table refilling coffee mugs and juice glasses because Carole Bradshaw was a morning person through and through whereas him and Mav were decidedly not. It would be easy for his thoughts to spiral, getting lost in what ifs and regret. His mind was already filled to the brim with things he had to do before the wedding and he’d rather not add to the chaos.

Checking into the motel had been easy enough and soon he was pulling the Bronco into the parking lot of The Hard Deck. It was early enough in the day that the area surrounding the bar wasn’t packed but late enough that they were the only ones in the parking lot. As he got out of the car and walked around the Bronco to open your door for you he spotted Mav’s favorite Kawasaki, parked in the corner closer to the back of the bar.

Holding the door for you, Rooster felt his heart beating faster. He didn’t know if his hands actually started to get sweaty or if he was just imagining things but he gave them a cursory wipe on his jeans anyways before he held out a hand for you to take. Walking into The Hard Deck holding your hand made things just a tiny bit easier.

The front doors were still locked because the bar wouldn’t open until later in the day but Mav had texted him that they could use the backdoor to enter the building. Apparently the older man had been spending a not insignificant amount of time at the bar as of late, with full permission by its charming owner of course.

Rooster had never been in The Hard Deck while it was still completely light outside and he had to admit that the bar looked just a little different. The lights that got turned on once it got darker definitely added a small level of coziness. If he could concentrate on anything besides the immediate meeting he would have looked around to better see all the hidden details but right now nothing mattered as much as reuniting with Maverick and introducing you two.

Penny stood behind the bar, wiping the counter with a rag in a way that seemed just a little bit too nonchalant for it to be coincidental. He wondered just what Mav had told her about their past when she looked up and their eyes met. Yeah… she definitely knew too much.

“Hey Penny.” He squeezed your hand just a little as he tugged you along, smiling as you gave the older woman a shy little wave with your free hand.

“He’s at the table by the big window if you want to head back. Amelia’s there too but just send her to the front.” She nodded her head in the direction Mav was sitting and smiled at you as you walked past.

Mav was indeed at the table by the big window and by the looks of it he was also more than halfway to a mental breakdown. Rooster has seen this man nearly die three times in one afternoon and he came out looking better than he did now. Amelia was sitting next to him and they were looking over a piece of paper although she didn’t look as rough as Mav.

They both looked up as you approached, a smile immediately coming to his godfather’s face as he spotted you next to Rooster, holding hands. Expecting exuberant hugs so soon after everything might be a stupid idea especially since he was all for agreeing to take their reconciliation slow but it still hurt when Mav jumped up only to give him a shoulder squeeze as a greeting. He then moved on and politely shook your hand but if he noticed the ring on your finger he didn't comment on it.

Amelia was still sitting at the table and for a moment Rooster debated greeting the young girl. They had met once before at Mav’s hangar but he still felt lost. How does one even greet teens nowadays? Were fist bumps still cool or would he out himself as an oldtimer with the simple gesture?

In the end he gave her a little headnod as a greeting, feeling relieved when she gave him one back.

“Sorry Amelia, you two looked busy but your mom told us to send you to her at the bar.”

She just shrugged and started to gather up her things. “It’s okay. Mav tried to help me with my Calculus homework but he has no idea what he’s doing.”

Rooster was able to suppress a laugh just until he heard a soft giggle by his side and joined in.

“Hey! A lot of things have changed since the 70s.” Mav sputtered out as an excuse, only making them laugh more.

“Whatever old man. I’ll just google it.” There was no tone of malice in her voice and Rooster knew that they’d get along well in the future. He might have had to ask Penny if he can leave his number for Amelia later, he had a feeling that they could both benefit from an exchange of information on Mav.

“He was just as bad with homework twenty years ago.” Rooster told her, still smiling wide. Mav wasn’t actually all that useless with homework. He knew that the older man had a hard time in his youth which reflected on his grades but as he sat down with him in the afternoons and went over the problems with him he always managed to encourage Rooster to try and do his best. Even in his rebellious teenage years he sat down with his uncle Mav and did the work just to spend the time with him. He was glad that Mav still wanted to help even if it hurt just a tiny bit to share their tradition with the young girl.

“I’m just bad at it because you never took Calculus or else I’d know what was going on.” Mav defended himself.

“Calculus? She looks like she’s what? Thirteen? Why is she taking Calculus?”

“I’m turning sixteen soon.” Amelia pouted. “And I took some classes during the summer so that I can finish up my reqs sooner so that I’ll qualify for some college level courses during Junior and Senior year. If I’m gonna be an engineer I can’t waste time on AP Calculus during Senior year.” She said as if all that made sense.

Jesus, at her age Bradley only cared about baseball and getting his license but she had apparently her whole life planned out.

Before he could tell her how cool that sounded Penny’s voice carried through the bar over to them. “Amelia!” she called and Amelia sighed.

“Coming!”

They watched as she left to go to her mother, silence falling over them for a few seconds before Mav motioned for them to sit. Rooster didn’t miss the proud smile on his face as he pulled out a chair for you, making sure you could sit down comfortably before plopping himself down on the seat next to yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Mitchell.” You broke the silence. “Bradley told me so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same thing but uhhh… Thank you. For being there for him when I couldn't.” He said, leaning forward until his forearms rested on the table in front of him. He was fidgeting with his hands, the nervous gesture almost foreign to Rooster. “And please, call me Maverick. Or Pete if you’re not a fan of callsigns. Not uhhh… not gonna be a Captain for much longer.”

Had Rooster been paying attention to his godfather he might have caught the small smirk gracing his lips at the end of the sentence but instead he was looking between you eagerly with those big puppy eyes of his. “What?!”

He slammed his hands down on the table, halfway jumping out of his seat and leaning across the table in rightful indignation.“Mav you just saved our asses during the mission they can’t just… Are they grounding you? Discharging you?”

“Worse. They’re promoting me.”

That left Rooster dumbfounded, slowly sitting back down. “What?”

“They’re making me a one star. Reluctantly, but… they’re keeping me around for now.” Mav admitted, as if the news hadn’t lifted a weight the size of a carrier off his back when Cyclone broke the news to him two days prior. “Just don’t tell anybody yet. Everything is already decided but they won’t announce it for a few more weeks. So far only Cyclone and Warlock know because I’ll be reporting under them. And Hondo. And Viper. I don’t know if you remember but he was my instructor at Top Gun back in the day and still lives in San Diego so he invites me over for tea when I’m in the area. Penny knows too which means that Amelia probably figured it out. Oh and I kinda texted Slider to make fun about the fact that I outrank him now but that’s it. And now you two know.”

Rooster barely listened as Mav rambled through name after name, pulling your hand into his lap and absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

“That’s great news, Mav.” He said, eyes moving between you and his godfather as he continued. “So many good news. We should celebrate.”

“Oh, yes. You… you came all the way so we could meet and here I am going on and on about myself.” Mav said, turning towards you slightly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Now, the boy hasn’t updated me on anything since he texted me that he made it home safely. Did he finally get it together and asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Not exactly.” Rooster said while you wordlessly held up your left hand, wiggling your fingers a little as the ring caught in the light.

For a moment he was too caught up in your smile to notice his godfather’s reaction but once he looked over Rooster saw him tearing up. It wasn’t shocking to see Mav cry, Rooster had half suspected it would happen at some point during the day but he also didn’t want to worry you. He was lucky enough to grow up with adults that didn’t subscribe to the “boys don’t cry” idea and he knew he was allowed to let his emotions flow but Mav had always been built a little closer to the water than him or his mom.

Reaching out he took your hand in his, pulling it closer until he could kiss the back of your hand before bringing your joined hands down until they were resting on the table in front of you.

“Congrats. I’m… I’m sorry.” He used the back of his thumbs to wipe away the tears in his eyes before they fell, still looking at you. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you two.”

“That’s actually part of the reason we wanted to meet up with you.” Rooster said.

“We’re not planning on having a big ceremony. We just want to go sign the papers at city hall back home but… we wanted to ask if you would be our witness?” You spoke softly as you asked him, almost as if you were afraid he would say no.

Rooster was scared too even though deep in his heart he knew Mav would not turn them down. He was still working on trusting his gut more than the nagging negative voice in his head but in this case he was so sure.

Mav just looked at them for a moment, looking like he was tearing up again. “I’d be honored.” He wiped at his eyes again before smiling. “Of course. I’d love to. Do you two have any plans yet? You said you wanted to just sign the papers?”

“Neither of us has enough people to warrant a big wedding so we’ll just do the legal part…maybe go get something to eat afterwards?” He looked at you for the last question, wanting to see if you approve of his tentative plans, smiling when you nodded.

His eyes stayed on you, even as you turned to address Mav again. “We just want to do it before Bradley’s leave is over. It usually takes a few days for the paperwork to be ready but we could do it next week if you have time.”

“Oh so soon?”

“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” Rooster really hoped that Mav wasn’t judging him. Didn’t think he was jumping the gun and rushing into things.

“No, no. It’s just…You remind me so much of your dad right now.” He paused for a moment, glancing at the ring on your finger. “Did your mom ever tell you the story of that ring?”

“No, we never talked about it.” Rooster admitted. There were a lot of things he and his mom never talked about.

Mav exhaled deeply, shaken his head a little as if the motion would shake loose old memories and he had to suppress a chuckle. “God it was… it was 1982. Your dad and I had only been flying together for a handful of months. We were still in training but you know how it is. Sneaking off base, going out. That was back before the drinking age was 21 and man did we take advantage of that fact. One night your dad was sneaking back in from a first date and I was still up and he just looked at me and said I’m gonna marry her Mav. After the first date. I helped him pick out that ring three days later.” He paused, shaking his head again. “I thought he was crazy until I met Carole. Everybody could see that they belonged together. And when I look at you… It just makes sense.”

Rooster could feel you squeeze his hand and squeezed back. Yeah. The two of you just made sense.

“Next week? Yeah, that works. All I do at the moment is stock shelves and get embarrassed by homework while I’m waiting on the officials to get everything in order so I have time.”

Rooster immediately felt lighter, glad that they would have somebody with them. He might not be able to give you a fairytale wedding but at least they wouldn’t have strangers as witnesses.

“You could just go to Vegas.” A voice piped up, causing all three of you to turn your heads.

Penny looked a little sheepish but Amelia looked nothing but pleased.

“Were you eavesdropping the entire time?” Mav asked.

“No.” She said with a hand on her hip. “The voices just carry in the empty bar.”

Looking at his godfather’s face Rooster knew he didn’t believe her but nobody challenged her.

“You want to get married quickly and Vegas is only like a 5 hour drive. We can go there tomorrow and be back before dinner.”

“We?” Penny asked. “You, young lady, have school tomorrow.”

They continued talking but Rooster wasn’t paying attention anymore. You wanted to get married quickly but in all your planning neither of you had even thought about the place most famous for shotgun weddings. The more he thought about it the more sense it made.

He had proposed to an Elvis song, you could get an Elvis impersonator to officiate, get a few pictures, and by sundown tomorrow he would be able to call you Mrs. Bradshaw. It seemed like an ideal plan.

He looked at you.

You looked at him.

Rooster shrugged. “We could go to Vegas.”

Mav jumped on the idea of a Vegas wedding, casually appointing himself wedding planner. It wasn’t hard to hand over the reins and relax, one less thing to worry about. In the end you departed the bar with an agreement to wait with the wedding until the weekend and an invitation for dinner at Penny’s house the next day and headed back to the motel.

Making concrete plans just solidified the idea of marriage in your mind. Just looking at things from the outside might make it seem like you and Bradley were rushing into it, but it felt right.

After Bradley had told you about the Elvis connection you had immediately agreed. Vegas would be even easier than the courthouse especially with his godfather offering to organize everything. All you had to do was show up, say ‘i do’, and look pretty for a picture before dragging your husband back to the nearest lockable room.

“We should get a dog.” Bradley said from where he was laying on your chest. When he had first picked you up and thrown you on the bed after coming back from the bar you had assumed he had ulterior motives but he had only wanted to cuddle, blanketing your body with his and burrowing his stubborn head into the valley of your throat. His curls felt soft under your hand and you wondered how he managed to keep them so silken even though they were regularly locked away under a helmet and only saw conditioner when you showered together.

“Why should we get a dog, Brad?” Using your hand in his hair you tugged just a little until he lifted his head to look at you.

“I don’t know. I just always thought every family needs a dog. It could keep you company when I’m gone. Protect you, you know? And once we have kids they’re gonna love running around with it in the yard.”

Your heart ached at his description of the future. Whereas you had never really allowed yourself to dream it seemed like he had everything already figured out. “Kids?”

“Yeah, two or three. So that they have somebody to grow up with. I always wanted a sibling or a cousin when I was younger.” He said wistfully, looking at you with wide eyes. “Unless you don’t want… We don’t need to have kids to be a family.”

“Two or three? Alright, we can do that.” You continued to run your fingers through his hair, almost petting him like the dog he talked about. “What kind of dog are we getting?”

“Don’t know yet. Maybe we can go to a shelter when we’re back home. I just remembered that Coyote sent a picture of his dog in a little sweater in the group chat and thought about us getting one too.”

“And putting little sweaters on it?”

“If you want to. I don’t know if it’ll like sweaters. Javy’s dog looked happy in his. Hold on, I'll show you the picture.” Bradley reached back to grab his phone, pulling up the group chat.

Ever since he had come back to you after the mission he had been talking about the group chat one of his buddies made.

You continued to run your fingers through his hair as he looked through his phone. He looked so happy looking at the messages his friends sent, you couldn’t help but feel happy too. Neither of you had many people in your lives and you were glad that he was reconnecting with old friends and making new ones.

“Here it is.” He held out his phone so you could see the screen properly. It was a nice picture, an attractive man holding a dog and smiling into the camera. They were wearing matching sweaters and Bradley had been right, the dog did look weirdly happy in its sweater. A notification popped up at the top, quickly followed by several others.

“You’re getting a lot of messages in the group chat. Might be important.”

He turned the screen back to himself to check his messages. “Bob sent a picture with his family and the others are roasting him for it.” Bradley said, turning his phone towards you again until you could see the screen. It was a nice picture of a family with some horses but you could understand the roasting, maybe the matching flannels were a bit much.

“I can’t imagine their reactions when I send a picture of our wedding.” He smiled up at you. “They’ll curse themselves for missing it.”

The two of you hadn’t discussed guests at all after your first conversation about asking Mac to be a witness. Then after talking to him and changing your plans to Las Vegas it seemed natural that Penny and her daughter would tag along as parts of your growing family. But these people were family too, in a way. Bradley refused to tell you the details of his mission —if he was more scared of his higher ups finding out he disclosed confidential information or of your reaction should you find out the whole truth you didn’t know— but it was clear that their little group had bonded in a way few could understand.

“You could always just ask if they want to come.”

It wasn’t like you would know what to do with a bunch of aviators on your wedding day but you just wanted for Bradley to be happy. To be as happy as you were right here in this moment with him laying on your chest in a random motel in San Diego.

“I can’t. They’re all back home with their families or back on deployment. I can’t ask them to give up their leave to watch a five minute ceremony.” He just looked down at his phone, tumbling at the case.

You didn’t tell him that maybe his friends would love to give up a day of their leave to support him. If somebody were to tell you the same thing you wouldn’t believe them either. “Well… at least I’m not the one that will have to listen to them complain that they didn’t get an invite.”

Bradley looked at his phone.

Then you.

Then at his phone again.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” You watched as he typed a quick message before turning his phone off before throwing it away from you onto the bed. It disappeared between the folds of the sheets somewhere, out of sight out of mind.

“Did you tell them?”

He just rested more of his weight onto you, the pressure calming like your own little weighted blanket. Breath steady and soft against your skin. “Told them I’m getting married and to bother Mav for the details.”

Using a hand you tilted his head up a little until you could press a kiss to his forehead, chuckling as he scrunched up his face. “You are unbelievable. You can’t just put all that on him without a warning.”

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s Mav. He can handle it.”

Mav could definitely handle it.

Bradley had woken up to a text message inviting the two of you to breakfast and somehow gotten you up and ready long before reasonable for a relaxed Thursday morning. Thankfully your fiancé was nice enough to stop and get you a giant coffee on the way to the diner Mav had picked, all while you tried your hardest not to fall asleep in the passenger seat. You didn’t really pay attention to the road in front of you, doing nothing but occasionally lift the cup high enough for Brad to take a sip of the obnoxiously large and obnoxiously sweet concoction.

It was a nice looking place, aged but clearly loved. Mav was already sitting at a window booth and Bradley led you there by your hand. The woman behind the counter gave your cup a pointed look and any other time you’d apologize for bringing outside food into her diner but today you really needed this.

Mav greeted you with a warm smile and you did your best to reciprocate while sliding into the booth and settling down on the worn seats. At least he waited until Bradley had sat down as well before he pulled out a notebook, still smiling, and set it down on the table hard enough for the slam to echo through the room. “Alright let’s get to it. Fanboy’s flight lands at 7am so we’ll send him straight to the hotel for a nap before the ceremony. Payback and his wife come in at 11am. There were no direct flights from Cheyenne to Vegas at a reasonable time so we’re sending Bob to San Francisco first and then he and Phoenix are flying in together at 11:30. Hangman is last at 12:15 but we won’t fit everybody in one car so we either drive down with two or take a shuttle. Speaking of driving we can either leave here at 4:30am or I have a buddy that can get us a charter flight out at 8, that would give us enough time to bring our things to the hotel and get to the airport before the others trickle in. We’ll have a late lunch and then a few hours to get ready. Wedding is at 6 and you guys can hit the strip while I take Penny and Amelia to see a show. Sunday we’ll do brunch at the hotel around noon unless somebody gets arrested or ends up in the hospital then we’ll just do lunch at 2pm. Any questions?”

“I have one. You guys ready to order?” A voice chimed in from the end of the table. The woman you had seen behind the counter was standing at your booth, notepad in her hand, ready to write down your orders. Mav already knew his order but when she turned to you there was nothing that came to your mind, you didn’t even need to look at the menu to know you didn’t want anything.

“Oh I don’t want anything, thank you.”

She gave you another look, this one a little more concerned. “You okay sweetie?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just a little too early for food.”

“Ah. Military men, am I right? Always up at the crack of dawn. You’ll get used to it sweetheart.”

Beside you Bradley rattled off his order but you only half listened to him talk. On the table in front of you you could see Maverick’s open notebook, messily filled up with all kinds of information, sentences written then scribbled out, arrows drawn and words circled. He had really put a lot of thought into this.

When you looked up again the waitress had left so you took a sneaky sip of your coffee. Everything was happening so fast yet not fast enough. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since Bradley came home and now you were about to get married. A wedding Maverick had somehow planned in one day.

“I can’t believe you managed to put that all together so fast. It’s been, what, 12 hours?” Bradley asked, resting his arms on the table leaning over it to look at his notebook.

“A little warning would have been nice.” The older man grumbled, thumbing at the edge of the notebook. “But keeping up with the text messages was the hardest part. I don’t know how somebody can type that fast. The actual planning took less time than you think. I’m uhh I’m pretty good at that part. Just don’t tell anybody or else they’ll have me play secretary for Cyclone.”

Him and Bradley laughed a little and you watched them, enjoying this moment.

“Thank you.” You told him when the two had stopped, reaching out over the table to take his hand in both of yours. “For arranging everything and telling Bradley’s friends and just… thank you.” So much has been happening in such a short time and you just wanted him to know how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

Maverick just gave your hand a squeeze, looking at Bradley and you with a fond look. “It’s what family is for.”

When the waitress arrived with the food you pretended not to notice the amount of food Brad had ordered. It was easy to reach over and steal a piece or two while he talked with Maverick about the messages he had gotten last night. It seemed like everybody was happy for you which only made you even happier in return. Even if you didn’t know them they meant a lot to Bradley and knowing that they were supportive of him was simply a good feeling.

“We can just talk about the rest at dinner tonight.” Mav said before finishing the last of his coffee. “It would be nice if you two can decide on how you want to get to Vegas until then though. We’ll get you there either way and I don’t mind driving the 5 hours but I’d like to give Wolfman and Hollywood a heads up so they have time to schedule the flights properly if you want to take the plane.”

“We’ll think about it.” Bradley answered as if you didn’t already know he’d want to take a plane. He belonged up in the sky and who were you to try and stop him.

“Awesome. Now.” He set down his now empty mug and flipped his notebook to a blank page. “What is your address for the wedding gifts and do you have a registry somewhere because I have a list of people that want to know.”

Bradley is looking out of the window when you pause your unpacking to check in on him. The sight of Sin City below gives him just enough of a distraction to leave you battling your small bags on your own but you didn’t mind. The short flight in a fancy little private jet had been an exciting adventure but you were grateful to be back on solid ground. You simply weren’t drawn to the sky like Bradley was.

Maverick had gotten everybody rooms in a hotel fancy enough that it made you question how you’re supposed to afford it before quickly shaking those thoughts off. He seemed like a good man and the last thing you expected from him was to leave you and Bradley with a bunch of debt from your not so spontaneous not so elopement. After checking in he had pressed a hotel room key into your hands and told you to be back down in 20 minutes to head to the airport and you intended to stick to his schedule even if your fiancé did little more than throw his bag into a corner before going straight to the window.

“You can’t see the airport from here but you can see the planes.” His voice carried through the room even though he spoke at a normal volume.

You put the item into the closet before turning around and walking over to where he stood, snuggling into his side as Bradley put his arm around you. “Are they nice?”

“Eh…” You felt him shrug. “They’re alright, I guess.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you could feel him laugh.

He had told you about the other daggers before and you knew of his time at Top Gun with Natasha and Jake but you had never met them before. Part of you was just worried if they’d like you. If they’d think you were good enough for Bradley.

“Ready to go?” Bradley’s voice interrupted your thoughts before you could overthink it more.

“Yeah.” You answered, smiling up at him before ducking under his arm to get your bag. “Let's go!”

Brad managed to behave on the elevator ride down but once the doors opened and you started to step out into the lobby he not so discreetly gave your butt a squeeze before resting his hand on the small of your back, steering you in the direction of Maverick and Penny who were already waiting.

If they saw they did a great job at pretending they didn’t. Instead Maverick checked the time on his phone before putting it away, smiling at Bradley and you. “There’s a shuttle to the airport leaving in 5 minutes so we should probably get going.”

It was easy to follow him through the hotel to the shuttle and then later through the airport. Even though you hadn’t known Maverick for long it was easy to see the natural leader in the man, making his way through the airport with purpose, while the rest of you were following behind him like ducklings. He knew where you had to be at what time and once again you found yourself being grateful that the older man had taken it upon himself to organize this trip. A quick visit to the courthouse could never have compared to the glitz and glam of fabulous Las Vegas. Even the drive to the airport had been magical, it being the middle of the day doing little to hide the power of flashing lights and inebriated fun-seekers.

“Just in time.” Maverick announced as your little group walked up to the gate as the arriving plane started to deboard.

Bradley’s arm laid heavy over your shoulder but you didn’t mind, leaning into him until you could rest your cheek against his chest and winding your arm around his small waist to hook your thumb through the belt loops of his jorts. You just stood there waiting for a few minutes while the people made their way out of the plane and into the airport. You had seen a few pictures of the other aviators Bradley and Maverick had flown with during their mission but while it seemed enough to recognize them should they stand somewhat close it seemed far from possible to be able to pick them out from a crowd like the one in front of you.

It got louder around you as the mass of people made their way through the terminal but Maverick didn’t have to raise his voice to get the attention of somebody. Raising his arm just above his head he waved once, twice, before lowering it again. Following his line of sight you could see a man and a woman heading your way. They were both wearing sunglasses and the man was carrying a bag over his shoulder although it started to slip as he excitedly made his way over to your group with the woman following behind.

Withdrawing your arm from around your fiancé slowly, taking a step back so that Bradley could greet his friend. Payback was a little taller than him which didn’t become too apparent until he released Bradley from a hug and proceeded to pull Maverick against his chest after.

“You must be Carmen. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you, Rooster. My husband told me so much about you.” Payback’s wife seemed to be a hugger too judging by the way her and Bradley were embracing.

Unlike her husband though she didn’t move on to greet Maverick next, instead focusing her attention on you. “And you must be the wife-to-be. Oh what a gorgeous bride. Thank you so much for letting us share this day with you.” You found yourself being pulled into an enthusiastic hug, barely getting the time to reciprocate the unsuspected affection before Carmen pulled away again, moving to greet Maverick and Penny.

You were only left standing for a second before Bradley swooped in and guided his friend the two steps over to you. “Hi. Payback.” He introduced himself, holding out his hand to shake, a gesture you gladly accepted.

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled back, hoping the man wouldn’t recognize how nervous you felt. Bradley going back to standing by your side, arm casually slung over your shoulder like it had been before, helped a little.

It didn’t take long for your little group to move. Your guests had checked a bag and by the time you had collected from the baggage carousel and made your way to the next gate enough time had passed that you could watch the plane land.

Truth be told you had been a little nervous meeting Payback and his wife but you were downright terrified of meeting Phoenix? Natasha? Phoenix! Sure, Bradley was friends with the people that were coming to watch you two get married but him and Phoenix went back almost as far as Brad and you did and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen if she didn’t like you. It was obvious that Bradley cared about her and her opinions a whole lot and you wanted nothing more but to get along with her.

Before you could get lost in your own worries the passengers made their way off the plane and into the terminal. This time you didn’t have to look for the people you were picking up, instead they came straight to you as if they had spotted your group of fearless aviators plus partners from the moment they had stepped out of the plane.

Phoenix made her way through the masses, a tall blond who you assumed to be Bob following half a step behind her. People parted out of their way left and right, stepping aside like being in her way would be the absolute last thing they wanted to be. She didn’t look as intimidating as you had imagined her to be from the pictures Bradley had shown you. Dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and she was wearing a simple shirt and jeans but the way she carried herself almost made you want to take a step back as well.

“Bradshaw!”

You weren’t the only one that jumped at that. Beside you Bradley went a few shades paler even though his nonchalant expression didn’t change. Phoenix was still a few yards away but her voice carried through the noisy building, it didn’t sound all too happy. So much for trying to make a good first impression.

She bridged the last of the distance between you but her whole demeanor seemed to change once she spotted you. “Future Mrs. Bradshaw!” Phoenix gave you a quick once-over but it didn’t feel like she was looking at you trying to find flaws, she was simply looking at you, a little half-smile on her face. “I can’t believe he managed to hide you away for so long.”

She didn’t try to hug you but when she went to stand beside you your shoulders touched a little too often to be accidental, a little too soft to be malicious, and you felt glad about that small sign of fondness.

Her WSO Bob was an absolute sweetheart with his soft little pleasure to meet you ma’am and you could immediately understand why Bradley spoke so highly of him.

Your little group stood together for a few moments. Just catching up and introducing yourselves. It felt nice to be surrounded by people your soon-to-be husband cared about, people that you cared about by association. That warm familiarity growing while you talked.

“Shouldn’t we head back to the hotel? The itinerary Mav sent us said something about lunch.” Payback said during a lull in the conversation.

“An itinerary? What-” Bradley started before Maverick interrupted him.

“Hangman’s flight won’t get in until 12:15 but if you want to head to the hotel that’s fine. I can come with you on the shuttle and then back here once you’re there?”

He continued to say more but Bradley leaned down to talk to you so you were focused on him. “He sent them an itinerary?” He whispered, getting a shoulder shrug in return. Maverick hadn’t said anything about the plans to you since your breakfast meeting in the diner.

“Oh can we head to the hotel? I’d like to get ready before we eat. Shower off all the airport and plane germs and change into real clothes.” Carmen said, tugging on her shirt. Her clothes looked nice to you, cute but definitely comfortable plane clothes, and you could understand why she didn’t want to wear them to lunch in Las Vegas.

“Alright.” Maverick said, pulling out his phone to check the time. “There’s a shuttle leaving in like 7 minutes at the end of the terminal. If we leave now I’ll make it back in time to meet the rest of the group before heading back.”

After he stopped talking Penny reached over to rest a hand on his forearm. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll head back with them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Need to make sure Amelia isn’t secretly raiding the mini bar or trashing the hotel room. I’m telling you getting her her own room is a recipe for disaster, I swear that girl never puts away her clothes. See you back at the hotel?”

After Payback and Carmen left with Penny you were left alone with the remaining aviators. They had trained together. Flown together. Braved death together.

And then there was you.

Bradley’s fiancée.

You stood there in silence for a moment before Maverick spoke up again. “We should probably head to Hangman’s gate. It’s not far but it’ll give us something to do in the next few minutes.”

Bradley took your hand in his, swinging your connected arms between your bodies while you slowly walked towards the gate. Maverick led the way and the rest of you followed in what you assumed to be pairs before Phoenix popped up next to you, scaring you just a little. She sure was stealthy.

“So you and Bradshaw have been dating for a while, huh? Got any dirt on him?”

Bradley hadn’t told you if his friends knew about your slightly unusual relationship but the way she said dating made you think that she knew. You didn’t care either way and her just casually saying it like this made it seem like she didn’t either.

“Because I have so many stories from our time at Top Gun.” She continued when you didn’t immediately respond.

“I’ll do you one better. I have albums filled with all his awkwards teenage photos.”

That made Bradley jump in and speak up. “She really doesn’t need to see those.”

“Oh yes, she does.” Phoenix fired back.

The two of them playfully glared at each other before you leaned over to her and loudly fake whispered. “I’ll send you copies once we’re home.”

That earned you a healthy hand squeeze but you just giggled. Oh yeah, you were going to get along great.

In the end you didn’t have to wait all that much longer. Phoenix and Bob were talking to Maverick about getting reassigned and flying together again while Bradley and you stood a little separate from the group, not talking, just standing there with his arm around you, watching the others. Occasionally he turned slightly, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before turning back.

The flight from Honolulu landed a full ten minutes early but you didn’t question it. Of all the people that would be coming to celebrate with you, Hangman was probably the one you knew the most about. Bradley had been complaining about him for a long, long time, yet you were still looking forward to meeting him.

“People are just starting to get out of the plane.” Phoenix said, a little loud so that Brad and you could hear her. “There’s still time for us to go and to leave him here.”

Bob muttered something in response but from where you were standing you couldn’t understand what he said.

“Good plan but I can already see him.”

It was easy to spot him in the mass of passengers. People didn’t part ways like they had for Phoenix but he just… stood out. Looking sunkissed and ready to rock and roll.

“Oh he’s hot.” You said, looking up at Bradley. “I can totally understand why you used to have a crush on him.”

“I didn’t-” He protested, weakly.

Giving him a little shoulder shrug you continued. “Hmmm. Sure. And I’m not thinking about leaving you at the altar and running away with him instead.”

Thankfully Bradley took your little joke lightly, quipping back. “Good luck with that. You’ll come back ten minutes later begging us to take him off your hands because he’s so annoying.”

You were just about to respond with a playful please, I could handle him for at least 20 when the man in question reached your little group making you keep quiet.

“Pops.” He nodded at Maverick, and you had to suppress a laugh at the look on his face. “Phoenix. Bob.”

“Hangman.” Was all Phoenix said back.

It was obvious that there was some kind of tension between all the aviators but it didn’t feel hostile. Maybe just leftover feelings from the mission?

“Rooster.” He finally said when he stood in front of your fiancé and you. “Mrs. Rooster.”

“Hangman.”

They just looked at each other, head tilted, mischievous look in their eyes, before they broke.

“It’s good to see you, man.”

“Good to see you, too. Wasn’t sure if you would come.”

“Can’t leave my wingman hanging now, can I? Besides, I come bearing gifts.” He gave the bag he was carrying over his shoulder two pats. “Now on the schedule pops sent it said something about lunch?”

It was a little weird, sitting at a table where almost everybody but you knew each other. At times it was hard to keep up with the conversation. Carmen seemed to have no such problem, talking and laughing with her husband and his WSO. Fanboy had met you all at one of the hotel’s restaurants with a bright smile and enthusiastically introduced himself. It was easy to get along with him, not even 5 minutes into the conversation you had discovered that you were both fans of the same shows so you spent a while talking about those before somebody else caught his attention and you were left sitting there, trying to listen to what everybody was talking about in the hopes of finding a conversation you could join. Beside you Bradley was recounting the story of your love to Phoenix and Bob, turning to you every so often and asking you for your opinion on things that happened but it was easy to get lost in everything happening around you.

Hangman was laughing with Payback and Carmen.

Fanboy seemed to be in deep conversation with Maverick and Penny.

Amelia was typing away on her phone.

Around you there were other patrons talking and laughing, the faint sound of people crying out in joy over casino wins flowing in from somewhere mixing in with the ambiance of the restaurant. Everything was so quintessentially Vegas. Part of you didn’t want to wait a few more hours. You just wanted to take Bradley and run away to the nearest chapel and get married. Something about the Las Vegas air made you want to be reckless and wild.

“So…” Hangman began after everybody was mostly done eating. Fanboy and Bob were savoring the last bites of their desert while Maverick had slipped from the table a few minutes ago and you just knew that the older man had gone to settle the bill. Another kindness you weren’t sure you’d ever repay him. “What’s the plan for the bachelor party? It didn’t say anything on Maverick’s schedule.”

It seemed like everybody at the table stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Bradley and you.

“You have something planned don’t you?”

Bradley just looked at them for a moment, his pretty eyes wide and his cheeks turning pink. “I- uhh. Not really, no.”

“Rooster, I love you man, but please don’t tell me we flew all the way to Vegas for no party.”

“I thought we’d do something after.” He said, gesturing around to support his words. “Go out and celebrate after the wedding, not before.”

“There’s still a few hours before the wedding. You can go have a bachelor party if you want. Just don’t go all Hangover on me, okay?”

Bradley was looking at you with his sad puppy eyes and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and running a hand through his short curls. They had grown a lot since he got home and part of you felt jealous that it grew fast enough for you to notice a difference after only a few weeks.

“Alright, since I’m the best man-”

“You’re not.”

“-I’m letting you decide where we’ll go first. Casino or strip club?”

As soon as those words left Hangman’s mouth the atmosphere at the table changed. Everybody was paying just a little bit more attention to what Bradley was going to say.

“I’m not going to a strip club. Why would you even suggest that? My girl is literally right here.” He gestured to you as if everybody’s eyes weren’t on you.

“It’s just a strip club, Bradley. Just go with your friends, look at some hot girls…” You gave his hair just a little tug before pulling your hand back so that you could hold his. “And then you come and marry me.”

Your little moment was broken up by Hangman’s voice again. “Alright. Now-”

“If the boys are going to a strip club I want to go too.” Carmen interrupted him, leaning back in her chair.

All the attention turned to her as you took a moment to think about what had been said so far. Sure, it was a little unconventional but how bad could it be? “I've never been to a strip club before. That could be fun.”

Maverick chose that moment to return to the table, pulling out his chair and sitting down, taking in the table. “What are you guys talking about?”

“We’re going to a strip club.” Fanboy chimed in.

You hadn’t known him for long but you wanted to take a picture of Maverick’s exasperated face and hang it over your fireplace or on the wall that housed all of Bradley and your family pictures. He was silent for some time, his face going through a journey of surprise, contemplation, settling on defeat in the end and letting out a deep sigh.

“I’m not going to a strip club with my… with Rooster.” He finally said.

“Oh come on pops.”

Maverick just shook his head a little. “Not really my thing. There are better ways to get a woman's attention than throwing money at them.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Extremely reckless and dangerous behavior, for one.” Penny answered for him. “But he is right. I don’t think we should tag along with you for that, as tempting as that sounds. Well just explore the area a little while you go out and have fun.”

“Alright, now that everything is cleared up,” Hangman reached down to grab the mysterious bag he had brought downstairs and placed under the table for lunch. “I brought a little something for everyone.”

Hawaiian shirts. Hangman had brought a whole bag of amazingly colorful and crazy Hawaiian shirts for everybody to wear. Although he didn’t say anything you saw the look in Bradley’s eyes as he looked over his friends rummaging through the shirts. There was nothing but unfiltered affection for his friends, for them joining you on this adventure, and proudly wearing something that means so much to him so that they could match.

“Dibs on the one with the dolphins!” Fanboy shouted, volume entirely unfitting for the middle of a restaurant but so immensely fitting for your little group.

You couldn’t wait.

As far as he remembered he had never been in a strip club before so maybe he should savor the experience but instead he found himself looking for the bar almost as soon as he stepped foot in the club.

Hangman had led them here, walking into the place with a purpose, and Rooster really didn’t need to know whether or not he had called ahead to reserve the velvety looking booth in front of what looked to be a side stage or if it was coincidentally conveniently empty and just waiting for them to walk in and claim it. He watched you walk towards it, arms interlocked with Fanboy, animatedly chatting about something. You were beautiful like this, joyful and carefree.

He was second to last to walk in, trying to stall just a little longer before entering with only Bob behind him. That didn’t prevent Hangman from noticing them taking a little longer to follow the rest of their group though. He moved over to where they stood just past the entrance with big strides, walking around them before putting an arm around each of their shoulders, walking them further into the club as if to make sure neither of them turned around and ran for the hills. An easy assumption. Probably a correct one.

“Come on guys. Party is this way.”

He let himself be moved along and just tried to take everything in. He was in Vegas. He was in a strip club. Hangman was wearing a pale pink Hawaiian shirt. He’d be married before the day was over. To you.

“Atta boy. Come on.” Something must have shown on his face because soon Hangman was releasing him from his hold with a pat on the back, instead focusing on Bob who was still on his other side.

“Don’t worry, Bobby boy.” He gave him a hard pat on the back, jostling the younger man’s shoulder. “I checked everything online before coming here. The dancers don’t take off their tops here so your innocence will be preserved.”

With that he turned his back to them, following the rest of the group towards the booth and leaving them standing there on their own. Rooster watched as he squeezed into the space between you and Phoenix, leaning back against the velvet cushions. You were laughing along with the others, cheering on Payback’s wife as she made it rain on a blonde girl on the stage. You were having fun so why shouldn’t he try to have some too.

“Bar?” Bob suggested, and Rooster knew it was more for his sake than the WSO’s but he found himself nodding along regardless.

"Yes, please."

The bar wasn’t far from where they stood so they walked over, settling on one of the stools in front of it with Bob sliding into the seat next to him, close enough that their elbows knocked into each other as they talked. “Don’t tell Hangman but this isn’t my first time in a strip club.” That wasn’t at all what Rooster was expecting him to say. He knew Bob was more than just an innocent library dweller if the snarky remarks he was allowed to witness and the stories from his family’s ranch were anything to go by but he wouldn’t have pictured him as the kind of guy to go to clubs like these.

“Really?” He said and hoped that it wouldn’t come across as too judgemental. Him and Bob didn’t talk a lot outside of the group chat but Rooster liked him. He was a very likable guy.

A bartender came to take their order, temporarily interrupting their conversation. He hadn’t even thought about what he would like so he just took a quick glance at their menu while Bob ordered a simple Coke, as a treat, and then ordered a fruity little cocktail for himself based on its ridiculous name. Hangman was definitely going to tease him but that didn’t matter. It was his bachelor party, damnit. He could drink whatever he wanted.

“My ex-girlfriend from high school is a dancer.” Whatever he had been expecting it wasn’t that. “A year ago when my cousin got married he wanted to do this big bachelor weekend so we drove down to Cheyenne because let's be honest there’s nothing to do in our town except get drunk in a field. I drove because I’m the only one that didn’t drink so they dragged me along when they wanted to go to a club. Found out she was working there because she was dancing on stage when we walked in.”

The last place he’d stare at in a strip club was Bob yet here Rooster was, eyes glued to the younger man’s face so he wouldn’t miss any little detail of the story being told.

“I grew up in a small community so obviously they recognized her and next thing I knew they had pooled together 400 bucks so they could pay her to give me a lap dance.” Bob said, breaking off into a small laugh before taking a sip of his drink.

The pause in the story was just long enough for him to contribute at least a little bit. “Wasn’t that awkward?”

“Not really. We sat in one of those backrooms for hours and just talked. She and her girlfriend have two really cute cats. And you want to know the best part?”

He nodded, the straw in his drink bumping against his lips with the motion.

“My cousin and his friends got so drunk that they forgot all about it and did it again the next day.”

He couldn’t hold in his laugh after that. Bob joining in. It took a while for the two of them to calm down but when they did it was to nothing but comfortable silence. Another song started to play in the club but when he looked it was still the same blonde on the stage. A different woman was putting down drinks on the table in front of the booth their friends were sitting in. She shook her chest playfully as she leaned forward and then laughed when Fanboy put a bill into her cleavage.

“Want to go join the others?” He asked, already sliding down from his perch.

“Why not.” Bob answered and then they made their way over to the group.

He wasn’t quite sure how he ended up sitting almost entirely in your lap with your arms wrapped around his waist but he wouldn’t complain. A new girl was dancing on the stage but all Rooster could focus on was the warmth of your body and the coolness of his drink.

He tried to make himself smaller, pull in his long legs so that Phoenix could squeeze past on the way to the bathroom and fit himself into your lap better until you could put your chin over his shoulder.

Rooster didn’t quite know how long they had been sitting there, a few songs and a second round of drinks at least. At one point you had switched positions and he sat reclined against the velvety backrest with you perched on his lap, nodding his head along to the beat of the music.

Nothing good could last forever though and you soon stood up, slipping from your comfortable throne and standing before him. “I’m going to head back to the hotel, okay?”

He wanted to ask why but he could probably guess. Something about the way that he looked at you must have conveyed his thoughts though because you leaned forward, cupping his face with both of your hands.

“I have to go get ready, Bradley. So that I can be pretty for our wedding.”

“You’re already the prettiest.”

That earned him a little laugh and a kiss. “Stop trying to be cute.”

“I’ll walk you back to the hotel.” He said, making moves to get up. Rooster wasn’t scared you’d run away, leave him on your wedding day, but he was worried of you making your way back to the hotel on your own.

“I already texted Maverick and he’s picking me up so you can stay here, have some more fun.” You ran your fingers through his hair and he wanted to stay right here forever, looking up at you while you touched him oh so gently. “I’ll see you later?”

You said it nonchalantly but he knew that you were feeling the same kind of underlying anxiety viciously clawing at your heart that he felt. That tiny little leftover doubt not that he would decide to desert you but that something would happen and you’d be alone again. It was the reason you had called Mav to pick you up. It was the reason you had told him about it. An unspoken I’ll stay safe please stay safe too hanging between them.

“I’ll see you later.” He said with as much certainty he could muster.

You smiled at him again and he knew that you understood each other.

Rooster watched as you walked towards the exit, vaguely recognizing Carmen talking to her husband before getting up and hurrying after you but he was still only focused on your retreating form.

Yeah. He’d be seeing you later.

Now this –Rooster thought– this is Las Vegas. In front of them rows and rows of slot machines stood, flashing bright lights in all the colors of the rainbow. Further back he could make out several tables crowded with people but the casino was kept so dark he couldn’t make out the other end of the room. An older man at a machine close to them won something and the loud noises of rattling coins and music filled the space around them.

“Alright.” The others turned to him as he spoke. “We’ll meet up back here in an hour. Don’t be late.”

They got maybe two steps in before he remembered something. “We’re doing a buddy system. Everyone picks a wingman and sticks with them. Friends don’t let friends develop gambling addiction, alright?”

Maybe, just maybe, he should have thought about his words before speaking. Payback and Fanboy put an arm around each other's shoulders, grinning from ear to ear as they walked towards the tables in the far back corner with long strides. It wasn’t until Phoenix reached out to take Bob’s hand and lead them towards some stairs leading to more tables that he realized his mistake. He was stuck with Hangman.

The excited blond threw an arm around his shoulder just like Payback and Fanboy had done moments ago. “Come on, wingman. Let’s win some!”

Great.

Even though he and Hangman had more or less changed out their antagonistic rivalry for an amicable competitiveness following the latter saving his and Maverick’s lives they had yet to spend time together without any of the other daggers supervising them, as Phoenix liked to call it. Rooster wasn’t sure what to expect from the —he checked his phone— 58 minutes they’d be stuck together but the least he could do is try his best. They were friends now. They could spend an hour together without things escalating.

“You any good at poker?” He tried, immediately seeing the other man’s eyes light up.

“Oh you’re on, Bradshaw.”

Hangman was, admittedly, good at poker. They left the table after one round though, wanting to look around a little more. He had more luck than the younger man at roulette but they both sucked equally at the slot machines. It was fun to just fool around a little. Even after he had run out of chips they continued to walk the floor. He felt no desire to run and exchange more money, content with the small amount he had allocated for this being used up.

“Hey.” He tapped on Hangman’s shoulder to get his attention. “I have to head to the bathroom real quick. You okay waiting here for a moment?”

“Just don’t forget that we’re supposed to meet up again soon.” He nodded so Rooster excused himself.

The last person he had expected to run into when exiting the bathroom of the casino was Phoenix. Her hair looked messier than an hour ago but Rooster wouldn’t have thought any of it –maybe she had gotten frustrated about a game and ran her hands through it, messing it up– had it not been for a familiar looking woman stepped out right after her and the poorly hidden hickey at the base of her neck.

“Please tell me you didn’t just hook up with a stripper in the casino bathroom.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you that.”

Sighing he hid his face in his hands. “Nat...” He started, before thinking better. “Actually nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

He started to walk back to where he left Hangman, wanting to give Phoenix a little more time to collect herself before the group met back up, but she caught up to him so he slowed down a little for her to keep pace.

“We just made out a little.”

Silently he raised his hand, not breaking his stride or turning his head to look at her but she understood regardless. Her smaller fist connected with his and he smiled. Nice.

“Hangman!” He called out as soon as he could see the blond standing at the side of some table near where he left him. Some other people turned around too but then went back to ignoring the three weirdos in Hawaiian shirts. “Guess who left her wingman?”

Rooster didn’t tell him the reason, wouldn’t tell him the reason, but deep down Phoenix would know and accept that he needed to tease her for this just a little, even if it earned him a pointy elbow to the side of his ribcage.

“Phoenix leaving her wingman? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah well keep talking and you won’t see the night.”

They just stood there, glaring at each other before a familiar cocky smile made its way onto Hangman’s face. “You think he can find the way here on his own or do we need to send out a search party?”

“Send out a search party for who?” Fanboy asked from behind him, making Rooster jump just a little bit. He hadn’t heard the two men walk up.

“Bob.” Hangman answered, a little bit too smug. “Phoenix left her wingman.”

“Ooooo.” Fanboy cheered, his joyful expression noticeably different from Payback’s gloomy look. “Maybe we can go and ask an employee to shout him out over the intercom. Tell him to meet us at the front desk, you know, like they do with little kids that get lost in stores.”

He could see the glee on Hangman’s face so he quickly stepped in. “Or we can just wait a little longer and see if he shows up?”

“Wait for whom?”

This time Rooster didn’t jump, secretly feeling good about the small win. How had all his friends managed to get so good at sneaking up on people? Bob didn’t look like he just lost his entire life savings during the time Phoenix reconnected with the dancer from the club in the casino bathroom though, so he counted that as a win.

Beside him he could see Hangman getting ready to say something again so he quickly jumped in, saying something first before the other man could make a comment about the situation again. “You guys ready to head back to the hotel?”

“Might as well.” Payback answered, looking down at his shoes before looking at him. “Your wedding better be a fantastic one because it’ll be the last thing I see before Carmen kills me.”

“Why would…”

“I bet our entire vacation found on the last game and lost, okay? That’s why. I’m dead, man.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the aviators. The pattern of the casino carpet was kinda funky, Rooster noticed. Beside him Phoenix shifted on her feet. Nobody really knew how to respond until Bob spoke up.

“How much did you lose?”

“Nearly 7k.” Payback answered.

Fanboy winced as if he hadn’t watched his pilot lose everything at the table just shortly before. This was exactly the reason why Rooster wanted them to stick together instead of wandering off alone yet here they were.

They stood silent again, not speaking, watching as Bob shoved his hand down the front pocket of his jeans. His face looked almost cute, the tip of his tongue sticking out just a tiny bit between his lips as he rummaged through the pocket. It only took a few seconds before his hand resurfaced, a whole bunch of colorful casino chips gripped in his fist. Another few seconds to flatten his palm and dig through the small pile. Finally he found what he was looking for, holding out a few of the chips for Payback to take.

“Here. You can have those.”

“Thanks Bob, that's really sweet, that's… that’s 7 thousand dollars worth of chips.”

At that everybody’s eyes got wide, staring at the quiet WSO and the amount of chips left in his hand.

“Yeah.”

Nobody said anything for a moment but just as Rooster saw Hangman open his mouth to comment on the situation Payback let out a joyful whoop, grabbing the shorter man and pressing a soundly smooch against Bob’s cheek. “You’re amazing, man.” Turning back to the group he motioned for them to get a move on. “Come on, what are you guys waiting for? Let's get back to the hotel. We have a wedding to get ready for!”

The knock on his door came after he had almost finished getting ready. There was still a good amount of time left before they had to head out to the little chapel so he tried to go through the motions slowly and not rush. For some reason you had decided to not see each other before the wedding and it was killing him. It felt like you were miles and miles away even though Rooster knew realistically you were only a few doors down from him.

He also knew you wouldn’t give him the sweet satisfaction of freeing him from his torture by knocking on his door to see him before the altar but that was okay. He waited 15 years before he allowed himself to have you. He could wait a few minutes more until he would have you for the rest of his life.

Taking a few seconds to put on a shirt he made his way over to the door, being conscious of the fact that maybe he should have put on some pants as well but not enough to look for one just to open the door.

“What are you gonna be wearing?” Was the first thing Hangman said, before he had even passed the threshold of the hotel room. He was dressed in a light blue dress shirt and fucking khaki pants and with a jolt Rooster realized that he would be dressed fancier than him at his own wedding. Judging by his face Hangman must have seen his carefully laid out jeans and come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t even a fresh pair, he had worn it to dinner at Penny’s house while they were in San Diego and then just carefully put it back into his duffel bag because they were virtually untouched. They were also the best available option he had packed for what was originally a short trip to ask his godfather to be a witness and then ended up as an overplanned elopement.

“You’re wearing jeans?”

“Yup.” He didn’t explain himself further.

Apparently that was enough of an answer for Hangman because the younger man just shrugged. “Makes sense.” He said as if Rooster getting married in jeans was the most normal thing in the world. “Hawaiian shirt?”

“Yeah.”

He hadn’t decided which one he would wear yet. There were two options hung up in the closet at the other side of the room but Rooster hadn’t been able to decide yet. He wouldn’t ask Hangman for help deciding though. He’d wait until Mav came by later and ask him then.

“Great. I have something for you.” He held out another bag like the one he had brought to lunch that had all of the colorful Hawaiian shirts but when he looked into the bag Rooster wasn’t overwhelmed by a brightly patterned rainbow of fabric. Instead he pulled out a more muted shirt, soft and off white in the way it could almost be cream but without the harsh yellow undertone some of his other shirts had. The pattern wasn’t delicate by any means, big red hibiscus flowers and smaller yellow ones stretched across the fabric, but to him it felt precious. He didn’t know what was different about this shirt, he had a similar patterned one hanging in his closet at home, but it just felt special.

“What?”

“You’re a pretty predictable guy, Rooster.” His usual cocky smirk adorned his face as he raised his chin a little higher. He was as arrogant as ever but for the first time Rooster found himself admitting that maybe that was part of his charm.

“There’s care instructions in the bag. And you better spring for dry cleaning on that one, a shirt like that deserves special attention.”

“This isn’t just one of those cheap tourist shirts, is it?” He’d blame the impending wedding for the emotion in his voice but thankfully Hangman didn’t call him out on it.

Maybe it was because he sounded similar when he responded. “Nope. Small kānaka owned business, handmade, one of a kind.”

That was not what he expected. He thought that maybe Hangman had popped into a slightly better shop on his way to the airport–where he had bulk bought the entire inventory of the first souvenir shop in sight–not that he went out of his way, really went out of his way, to find a meaningful gift for somebody he was taunting not even two months back. This side of Hangman surprised him but he found himself looking forward to the future of their friendship.

“Thank you, Jake.”

“Don’t mention it.” He stood up a little straighter, rolling his shoulders back until his posture looked annoyingly perfect again. “Couldn’t let you walk down the aisle in one of those hideous shirts of yours.”

And Hangman was back.

“I’ll uhh I’ll leave you to it.”

Hangman hadn’t been out of the room for a minute before there was another knock on the door. Mav and him must have run into each other in the hallway but the older man didn’t mention anything as he made his way into the room.

Mav looked at him, looked out of the window, looked at him again.

“You getting ready?”

“Yeah. Just have to get dressed.”

The silence that fell over the room wasn’t uncomfortable. It simply existed. He went through the motions of straightening out the shirt that Hangman had given him, carefully placing it next to the jeans he had laid out across the bed.

He knew why Maverick was here. He also knew why he didn’t start the conversation he wanted to have. Rooster didn’t necessarily want to have the conversation either but he knew that they both needed it.

“Are the girls getting ready?” He asked instead, internally cringing at the fact that he has inadvertently called a woman old enough to be his mother a girl in an attempt to lighten the mood. Then again his mother would have loved it.

Judging by the way Mav exhaled and his stance relaxed that must have been the right thing to say. “They’re all dressed up already. When I checked in on them Penny was helping your girl curl her hair and Amelia was on her phone.”

He let out a noise that might have been a sigh but could have also been just a general old person noise. Rooster watched as he walked to one of the chairs arranged in one corner of the room in a little seating area, elbows immediately coming up to rest on his knees, holding up his head in crucial support.

“Mav.”

The older man wouldn’t bring it up on his own. Hell, he still had to visibly fight with himself to talk about the topic, to remember, but he knew what was coming and Rooster granted him a few more seconds to prepare himself.

“Do you think they would have liked this?”

There it was again, that lost look Mav got when he didn’t quite know what to say.

“I know they’re proud of me. I know they would love her. I know they would be here and smile and cry and support us but do you think they would have liked this? Vegas? I’m going to get married in fucking jeans, Mav. Jeans! There’s no way this is the wedding they would have envisioned for me.”

Rooster didn’t even notice that he had gotten up until he felt Maverick’s hand on his shoulder.

“They would have loved it.” He said, and Rooster didn’t dare question his truthfulness. “Maybe not the jeans part but I’m not going to take you shopping 30 minutes before your wedding, Bradley.”

He didn’t look at him with pity, but for Rooster that look of commiseration hit just as hard.

“You’ve thought about it a lot.”

It wasn’t a question.

“After mom.” He pretended he couldn’t feel Mav tense up. “I… I knew that there would be a lot of things they couldn’t be there for. It wasn’t easy and it took a long time. It’s…it’s barely even reluctant acceptance but it’s something. Usually I can tell myself that they’re up there, watching over me, and it helps because I know that they’ll love me no matter what.”

The unspoken ‘but’ hung heavy in the air between them.

Rooster really hoped that Maverick wouldn't ask him to elaborate but when he looked up and saw his godfather looking at him he couldn’t help but let it all pour out.

“I’m never sure if they like how I turned out, the choices I made. Mom never really talked about things like that and dad…” He trailed off a little but quickly took a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t even know dad long enough to get to know him. And no matter how much I tried to model my life after him I’ll never be sure if I’m living a life they’d like. When we…” He paused again, staring at the floor, almost begging it to open up and swallow him whole. Anything to stop himself from speaking. “After we stopped talking it felt like I lost my last connection to him, to them. Before I could always rely on the fact that you were there to guide me–taking care of me like they would have wanted–but then that suddenly stopped. Everything I’ve ever wanted in life was suddenly ripped away from me and it just felt like I had lost a third parent on top of that. I don’t need to know if they’re proud of me or if they love me. I just need to know if they’d like me. I don’t even know if you like me.”

He didn’t know if the wedding had anything to do with him snapping like this, exposing the most vulnerable parts of himself to a man he didn’t trust a few short weeks ago. Sure he had heard about weddings making people lose their minds but he had been fine every step of the way until now. A breakdown right before one of the most important events of his life was nothing but an inconvenience. A horribly annoying inconvenience.

He was still looking at the floor, not daring to look up at the older man. He needed the reassurance, craved it almost, but he knew if he looked up and saw that sorrowful look in Maverick’s eyes…

“They’d like you.”

He said it so quietly that for a second Rooster thought he had imagined it.

“They would like you, kid.” Mav repeated. “Your dad would be jealous that you can grow a better mustache than him and your mother would kill me for letting you join the Navy but they would… they would absolutely like you. All your parents ever wanted was for you to be happy and I admit that I haven’t been around so I can’t know how you have been all these years but when I look at you looking at her… You look so happy, Bradley.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and he knew he couldn’t avoid looking at the older man anymore.

Rooster allowed himself two more breaths before he looked up. Mav had that look in his eyes again but it didn’t sting as hard as he thought it would.

“Go wash your face, kid.” Was all he said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze before turning away, eyes locking in on the carefully laid out clothes on the bed. “You should finish getting ready too. We should leave in the next 20 minutes if you don’t want to leave your bride waiting at the altar.”

Rooster hadn’t planned on spending much longer in the bathroom. After all, he already spent a significant amount of time in there before Hangman had interrupted him, getting ready and attempting to tame the growing curls you adored so much but now as he looked at himself in the mirror it felt like all the time had gone to waste. He didn’t look wedding ready. He’d barely dare to go back out into the room the way he was looking.

Going through the motions a little more hurried than he did the first time he scrubbed his face with one of the soft towels the hotel provided and water cold enough to shock him back into reality. It took less time to fix his hair and even less to fix his mustache. None of the other aviators could ever find out about the tiny comb he kept around for emergencies like this but at times it really was a lifesaver.

When he came back out Mav was still hovering in the room. He justified it to himself by reasoning that the older man was simply there to make sure he’d make it to the chapel on time. It wasn’t until after he had already put on his jeans and was reaching for the shirt that he noticed the addition on the bed. Metal caught rays of sun from the window, shining between the folds of the sheets and the folds of the shirt. He recognized what it was but that didn’t help clear up his confusion. Rooster’s hand came up, touching the base of his neck to make sure he was still wearing his dog tags. They weren’t new, that much was obvious. The metal was worn but clearly taken care of.

Rooster hadn’t placed it there but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who did. Mav was busy looking out of the window again, trying his hardest to avoid any attention falling on him.

He picked up the dog tags by the chain, listening to the metal touch ever so slightly while being lifted in the air until he could use his other hand to hold the tags in the palm of his hand.

Looking down at the small metal tags, the letters stared back at him.

B R A D S H A W

He ran his thumb over the name–the name they shared–feeling the letters under his skin.

Front to back.

Back to front.

Front to back again.

The metal wasn’t cold to the touch and part of him just knew that Mav had spent a while turning them over in his hand just like he was doing now.

Without saying anything he slipped the chain over his head, carefully tugging his father’s dog tags into his undershirt alongside his own.

It wasn’t until he had put on the shirt Hangman had gifted him and nearly buttoned it to the top that Mav spoke again.

“Your mom kept them.”

A simple statement, nothing anybody would question, yet he felt like there was more to it. Only feeling validated when the older man continued.

“I didn’t even know they gave them to her after… They gave me a pair too and I always thought those were the only ones, the ones he was wearing when… I threw them into the ocean after the MiG encounter and it felt good for a second, letting go of the guilt, but then I came back home and he didn’t. And I got to see you grow up but he didn’t. And I couldn’t even give you his dog tags to remember him by. Carole… your mom gave them to me when we started working on your pilots license—told me to keep you safe and give them to you when you’re ready. I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you earlier, kid.”

He had that look on his face again and Rooster could feel the telltale heat of anger-shame-sadness welling up inside of him.

“Truth is you’ve always been ready. It was me who wasn’t.”

Swallowing the past he stepped closer to the shorter man, pulling him in with both arms and hiding his head in his shoulder like he had done on the carrier after the mission, like he had done a million times as a child. Forgiveness was a bitter meal but one he had to eat. If not to grow then at least as a way to not starve to death on resentment.

He stepped away, fixed the last remaining button on his shirt, and then nodded towards the door.

“Let’s go.”

The little chapel your wedding would be held in was everything you could wish for and more. It was painted a bright white and decorated with every cheesy, cliché, remotely-related-to-love item. Heart motifs and intricate, almost over the top, details adorned everything from the ground to the fencing to the top of the small steeple yet it didn’t feel overwhelming to look at. A sign proudly advertised “Sweetheart Chapel” in large bubblegum pink letters next to a pair of ring-carrying-doves.

It was absolutely perfect.

You could see at least five more chapels just on your side of the street but this one was special and not just because it would become your chapel. It simply felt right. You didn’t know if it was something about the way the setting desert sun tinted everything golden or if it was some kind of weird Vegas magic but something in your heart just told you that this was far from the rushed elopement some random people would view it as. This was exactly how it was meant to be.

“There’s still time to run away.” Phoenix looked gorgeous in her glittery dress and you felt glad that you managed to convince her to wear it. When she had shown up to Penny’s room with wild eyes while the older woman was helping you fix your hair you had feared the worst. All kinds of disasters came to your mind, from the guys being arrested to your Bradley getting lost and nobody being able to find him Hangover style. In actuality she was just worried about her dress, afraid of accidentally upstaging you at your own wedding and validating every bad stereotype about men’s female best friends. It was true that she looked absolutely stunning but you didn’t mind. You could both shine–her a little more, literally, with the way she was reflecting the lights–without any issues arising.

“I don’t think I can run in these heels but if you know how to hotwire a car we can get a maybe 20 minute head start before they’ll notice we’re missing.” You joke back.

The little smirk she gives you tells you exactly two things–there is a great possibility that she actually knows how to steal cars and that if you needed to leave for any reason she’d have your back, despite her loyalties to Bradley.

“Is everybody inside yet?”

“I texted Bob while you were looking at the sign.” Phoenix said. “He said they’re all set up and ready to go. According to him Elvis looks just a tiny bit tacky but not in a bad way and Rooster looks like he might pass out so we should head in and end his suffering.” Taking a deep breath you took one last look around before walking towards the church you managed to walk exactly four steps until you stopped, coming to a horrible realization. “I forgot to borrow something.”

The look she gave you made your cheeks heat up but you explained away anyways. “I have something old and something new. Even something blue. But I forgot to borrow something. I was going to ask Penny for something while we were getting ready but I completely forgot about it and now she’s already inside and I can’t ask her and-”

“Here.” She interrupted your little freak out, hands coming up and to the back of her neck to undo a delicate chain that was previously tucked under her dress. “Just be careful please. My abuela gave it to me after I told my family I wanted to become a pilot.”

The chain was simple but the three medals on it were intricate. “It’s beautiful.”

“St. Thérèse, St. Joseph of Cupertino, and Our Lady of Loreto. They’re the patron saints of aviators.”

“Thank you Natasha. I promise to take good care of it and give it back to you right after.” It was easy to pull her into a hug, her dress scratchy against your skin but a sweet and gentle gesture nonetheless.

“You have everything else?”

“Old.” You said, gesturing towards your hand where your engagement ring sat on the ring finger. “New.” This time you gave the fabric of your dress a tug.

“And something blue?” Phoenix asked, looking you up and down.

For all she knew you could have painted your toenails navy blue or hidden a tiny blue object in your dress but something about the way you looked, the way your cheeks were heating up again, must have silently exposed your truth to her.

“Oookay, I don’t even want to know. Let’s go. Wedding time. Come on.” She thankfully brushed it off.

Just because the two of you were at the beginning of a beautiful, beautiful friendship didn’t mean you had to share details about the royal blue surprise you were wearing underneath your dress.

The chapel was roomier than the outside suggested, leaving you enough space to duck into a corner where Maverick was already waiting while Phoenix slipped into the room where the rest of your group was waiting for you to make your grand entrance.

“Ready?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He attempted to joke back, but you could tell he was nervous.

While you didn’t know the full story of Bradley’s family and how it broke apart you knew enough to see how the wedding was affecting the older man. The pictures of him at the Bradley’s parents’ wedding hung among many other memories on the family wall at your and Bradley’s house. You couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for him. Seeing his best friend—his brother—get married, tragically lose him, then being there for Bradley and his mom until they’re ripped away from him too, only for him to be here at your wedding.

As much as you wanted to help Maverick—your own nerves temporarily forgotten at the sight of the man—you felt just a little lost, unsure on how to help.

“I’m good. Weddings just make me emotional.” He was quick to deflect, speaking up before you could ask him what was on his mind. “Ready?”

You were more than ready, longing to see Bradley after only such a short time apart. Usually you were able to keep your yearning under control, going months without seeing him, sometimes just as long without speaking to him or any contact at all. Loving Bradley from a distance was manageable but with him being so close you could hardly control yourself. All that was separating you now were a door and a few short steps.

Taking the arm Maverick offered, the two of you got in position in front of the door, ready to walk towards your forever.

“Thank you.”

For what you were thanking him you weren’t quite sure. Everything. Being there for Bradley in the past. Being there for Bradley and you now. Maybe even causing the rift between them that ultimately led to you two meating. It felt a little wrong but you didn’t know how else to say it.

Maverick looked at you but your gaze didn’t waver from the white painted wood in front of you. Soft piano music started to play as the doors opened, all eyes turning to you as you stepped into the room.

Somebody from the chapel must have closed the doors behind you because there was a soft clicking noise but you didn't pay it any mind. You didn’t look back. Only forward. Only towards Bradley.

You slowly began walking down the short aisle while Elvis sang about love. His smooth voice blended into the background as you walked through the empty rows of pews, closer and closer to your love one step at a time.

Bradley looked so beautiful. His dark eyes shimmered in the warm light of two crystal chandeliers framing the end of the aisle. Big bouquets of flowers behind him. An Elvis in a glittery costume—the same bubblegum pink like the sign in front of the chapel—stood beside him, watching as you walked towards them.

Of course he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. You wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. A beautiful one too. One you hadn’t seen before. The thought of him going out and getting a new shirt for today made you feel all warm inside.

His head moved slightly as he looked you up and down. It was as if his eyes alone weren’t enough to take you in—his whole head had to move just so that he could properly look at you.

The dress hadn’t been planned at all. You had brought a few normal outfits with you on your trip to San Diego and at first you had planned on just wearing one of them today. It was Penny that had asked you about your plans during the dinner at her place and it was Penny that took you and Amelia out the next day while Bradley and Maverick were occupied with getting greasy working on the latter’s bike and catching up some more.

You’d never been a confrontational person and had let yourself be whisked away to a day of pre-wedding pampering, getting your mani-pedi and window shopping on your way back. The dress—your wedding dress—hung in one of the shops you passed. It wasn’t marketed as a wedding dress, it was probably meant for other occasions like a birthday or dressing up to go to a club, but something about it made you stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Amelia had bumped into you because of your abrupt stop but after she followed your view and saw what you were looking at she understood why you stopped. It was only because she called her mother over and all but dragged you into the store that you ended up buying the dress.

It was perfect.

Slides long but sheer. Bodice hugging your curves but the skirt flowing. It was a little on the shorter side but the way Bradley was eyeing your legs as you made your way down the aisle just showed you that he didn’t mind one bit.

You vaguely recognized your friends standing in their pews, watching you walk closer, but all you could focus on was him. Bradley shifted the way he was standing a bit –unable to stay still– and it took you a lot of willpower to not abandon Mav and sprint to the front to be near him again.

Beside you Maverick was starting to breath noticeably differently and when you glanced over it looked like he was tearing up. He wasn’t crying but you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, coming dangerously close to running down his face.

“Penny has tissues in her purse,” you whispered, still facing Bradley and the bubblegum Elvis in front of you.

Emotions would be running high and she liked to be prepared –at least that’s what she told you as you watched her stuff several packs into her small purse, putting Mary Poppins to shame– just in case they’d be flowing over.

“Got some in my pocket,” he whispered back. “Knew this was going to happen.”

“Smart.”

Maverick didn’t respond for the next step, or the one after. Finally –once reached the end of the aisle– he turned to look at you.

“Take care of him?”

You didn’t know if it was a plea or a request but you made a promise to him nonetheless. “I will.”

One more step and you had reached the end of the aisle, standing in front of Bradley and the officiant. He took a step towards you, wrapping Mav into a quick hug. The older man hugged him back, echoing his words from before except this time they sounded more like an order. “Take care of her.”

Bradley nodded against his shoulder before they separated and Mav stepped back to join your other guests and sat down in the front row, leaving you and Bradley standing at the altar. Without having to be prompted he reached out to take your hands in his, his thumb caressing the engagement ring on your finger the second it was within reach.

It was so easy to get lost in his warm eyes. You were certain that the music changed or maybe even stopped at some point but it didn’t register to you. Only a few more minutes and you would call this wonderful man yours for all eternity. No take backs.

Bradley gave you one last smile –the kind of soft, closed mouthed smile that made the ends of his mustache dance over his full lips and made you wish you were allowed to kiss him this very second– before the fake Elvis began your ceremony with a wonderfully loud “Ladies and Gentleman.”

The second the pink Elvis announced the two of you husband and wife Rooster dipped you so deep he worried about falling over with you in his arms for just a moment before his lips landed on yours and it was all he could think about.

His friends hollered and whooped, loud enough that he was sure it could be heard from outside. Bradley brought you back up until you were standing up again before turning to face them all.

He was pretty sure Mav had cried just a little bit but he’d been subtle about it. Hangman hadn’t. Phoenix looked at him like he lost his mind and Bob tried to reach around her to pat him on the back to comfort him.

“Weddings just make me emotional.” He said, trying to wipe his eyes.

Congratulations flooded them from all sides, long enough that the chapel attendants had to come in and shoo them out to make room for the next lucky couple.

They stumbled out of the chapel in a big bundle, playfully shoving each other while talking about the ceremony. He was careful to shield you so that you wouldn’t get knocked around by his enthusiastic friends. Payback was ribbing Fanboy for failing both his tasks as unofficial official ring bearer –take exactly two steps (he had stumbled) and hand over the rings (he dropped them during his stumble)– while Amelia made comments about the suit print shirt he decided to wear but Fanboy was taking it with humor. That wasn’t what he was focusing on while their little group was standing in front of the building.

While he had vaguely noticed that Bob had brought a hat with him to the chapel he didn’t think about it until they got outside and the other man moved to put it on. Bob had clearly dressed up as well but Bradley didn’t feel the same emotions as he did when he saw Hangman’s get up. Still the hat confused him. “What’s up with the hat?”

“Oh. It’s my formal hat.” He could see Bob’s face heat up beneath the wide brim of his hat –a proper cowboy hat– and the frames of his glasses. He was still wearing his Navy issued ones, even though Rooster was pretty sure he was free to wear any style he wanted while on leave. “My mom packed it for me before I left.”

There was a second of silence during which Bob’s embarrassed blush deepened before Hangman chimed in. “You should’ve said something man, I would have brought my Stetson.”

People talked all over each other in response to that and he was pretty sure he heard Carmen say something about a cowboy hat rule but he turned his back to them in an attempt to drown them out for just a moment. It felt wonderful to be surrounded by his friends and family –ridiculous suit print t-shirts and cowboy hats and all– but part of him just wanted to take you and run away.

To spend time with you alone as husband and wife in the most innocent ways possible. And maybe also the not so innocent ways. The way you looked would be burned into his mind forever but just because he could never forget the way you looked right now –looked at him right now– didn’t mean he shouldn’t whisk you away and make sure that there was evidence of tonight.

While he never took up photography to the extent his father did, Rooster did have a soft spot for physical pictures. He would bring you to the Bellagio, put you right there in front of the lake, then take your pictures right as the fountains went off. He wouldn’t get the chance right now though because as if Hangman could read his mind he broke free from the mass of aviators and pointed at them accusatory.

“No. I know what you’re thinking and you’re not sneaking away from the celebration so that you two can fuck.”

It was a little crude but it made you laugh in Rooster’s arms so he bit back an equally cutting response.

“Hangman!” Phoenix scolded him instead. “There are children present.”

She meant Amelia –who stood grinning wildly, leaning against her mother with wobbly legs because she insisted on wearing heels despite being inexperienced in walking with them– but the other man took the chance to tease Bob again.

“Sorry Bobby. I meant you can’t sneak away from the party to consummate your wedding. That better?” He turned to look at Phoenix when he said the last part but she just rolled her eyes.

“We weren’t plan–”

“I did.” You smirked up at him with a smile that told him everything he needed to know about what you had planned for him.

“You know what? Maybe we could–”

“Celebrate?” This time it was Payback that interrupted him. “Good plan.”

He was about to protest again when Mav stepped into the middle of their little huddle. “You should go and celebrate, just don’t go too crazy, you hear me? Get a few drinks, make some memories, enjoy your night in Vegas, okay?”

When he gave in and nodded Mav grinned at him so he probably made the right decision. A few hours couldn’t hurt. He’d just steal you away once the others were distracted.

“You coming with us, pops?” Hangman asked but Mav just shook his head.

Rooster already knew that he wouldn’t be joining them. He didn’t know what exactly Mav had planned, or what kind of show he would take Penny and Amelia to, but he knew that they’d hear all about it tomorrow at lunch. He made a little mental note to put out painkillers and something to drink before going to bed later, fully aware that he had reached an age where excess drinking and early plans the next day did not mix well.

By the time he tuned back in to the conversation going on around him Penny was in the process of pulling a pair of flats out of her remarkably small purse. You were leaning against him so he wrapped an arm across your shoulder to pull you closer to his body. Beside you Fanboy and Carmen were trying to talk you into booking a party limousine and although they weren’t coming up with the most convincing arguments a part of him just wanted to go wild and live up to every single bad Vegas tourist stereotype.

“Alright.” Rooster raised his voice a little to catch everybody’s attention. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You” –he pointed at Carmen and Fanboy– “get us one of those limos, you” –he gestured from Mav to Penny and Amelia and back again– “go enjoy your show, and you” –Hangman looked just the tiniest bit offended at being pointed at– “undo at least the two top buttons and untuck your shirt. You look like you’re taking your grandma to church, not living it up in Vegas.”

The other man just smirked as he untucked his shirt and then moved to undo a button, then the next one, then another. Beside him you started to holler but even the glare he sent Hangman from moving on and opening a fourth button.

“Okay alright you made your point.”

Thankfully Hangman stopped after the fourth, leaving you to stare at his exposed chest and Rooster feeling just a little bit jealous. He knew just the way to deal with it though. “First round’s on Hangman.”

Before the blond could protest he was sandwiched between Fanboy and Payback, being shaken while they laughed.

“Let’s party!”

“I’m never drinking again.”

Bradley’s voice was rough but sexy so you didn’t shush him to ease the throbbing pain in your head. Instead you pressed your thighs together under the table and wordlessly took off the sunglasses you’d stolen from him earlier and held them out for him to take.

The bright sun wasn’t pleasant but you suspected that Bradley needed them more. You silently cursed yourself for leaving your own sunglasses in the room but you had wanted to be punctual for lunch, even after your wild night out. Your wedding night.

In the end Bradley had let himself be dragged out of bed early enough that you even beat Maverick and entourage there by a few minutes. He had laughed at your state loud enough for Bradley to groan but Penny had slipped you another painkiller and ordered mimosas —or in Amelia’s case orange juice in a champagne flute— for the table with the exception of Maverick who stuck to water.

It didn’t take too long for the rest of your group to join you, all in varying states of exhaustion. Bob arrived at 12:14, steering a groaning Fanboy into the restaurant and depositing him in one of the chairs before sitting down himself. The two WSOs made a funny pair. Bob looked almost unaffected, maybe a little tired but overall he seemed fine. Fanboy on the other hand looked like an absolute mess. Keeping your eyes open for too long made your headache worse but from what you could see it looked like Fanboy had some kind of paint tinting his short dark hair different colors and he sat hunched over the table, resting his head on his arms.

Payback arrived next, wearing last night's outfit with the addition of dark sunglasses he had pushed all the way up the bridge of his nose. Carmen was nowhere to be seen but he assured you that she was just sleeping off her hangover. “There’s no way I’m waking her up.” He said, voice low and gravelly. “I’d like to live, thank you very much. I’ll just bring her some food up to the room later.”

Satisfied with that answer you turned your attention back to your drink, leaning against Bradley’s side for support as you sipped on your mimosa.

By the time Hangman and Phoenix joined your group you had finished your second glass and were debating ordering a third. They were dressed in similar ways –Phoenix in a pair of short shorts and a big shirt, Hangman in basketball shorts and a less tight shirt than he seemed to prefer– both with matching expressions on their faces.

The only places left at the table were on either side of Bradley and you but instead of sitting down next to each other in the two seats next to your husband –your husband!!!– Phoenix rounded the table to pull out the chair between you and Bob.

It was easy to guess that she had a rougher night than you. Her hair was a frizzy mess and from where you were sitting so close you could see the dark remnants of make-up she wasn’t able to remove clinging to her skin.

“You good Nat?” Bradley leaned over so he could look at his friend better.

She just hummed in response.

“Maybe I should have checked in with you more but you seemed fine last night.” Bob said next to her.

“Didn’t you two bunk together?”

“How much do you remember from last night?”

Bradley thought for a moment, giving you time to think it over yourself. You remembered your wedding but the time after that was a bit blurry until you were back in your hotel room. You remembered that part clearly.

“The important parts.” Was Brad’s answer. “Why?”

“After you two left, Fanboy over here” –he pointed at the slumped over WSO– “decided he wanted to go on a solo mission. By the time I caught up with him he was pretty drunk and about halfway through getting a tattoo done so I didn’t want to leave him alone. I stayed in his and Hangman’s room making sure he didn’t throw up or ruin the tattoo but I went back to my room after Fanboy fell asleep to check on Phoenix and tell her that I won’t be there. You seemed fine.” He addressed the last sentence to her.

“I am fine.” She croaked out before turning to Fanboy. “What did you get?”

He was fumbling with his pocket before pulling out his phone and opening up his photos, sliding it over so they could see without saying anything. It didn’t look bad, at least. A large knife sat between his tan shoulder blades and you just knew it must have hurt to get it done along his spine.

Hangman was the only one that said something. “Aww, you got a dagger? That’s cute.”

He got a handful of “Shut up Bagman.” in return but you could swear that you could hear Fanboy mumble about how his abuelita was going to kill him under his breath.

“Hey Hangman, where were you last night? I was with Fanboy but you didn’t come back to the room all night.”

You watched as Hangman stretched in his seat before flinching and settling back down. But not before showing off the impressive hickey he was sporting over his hip bone. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

He winked at nobody in particular but beside you Phoenix covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god.”

She said it quietly and you were sure most of the table wasn’t able to hear her but Bob, who was right next to her, did not have that problem.

“No! You and Hangman? Is that why you didn’t want me to come into the room last night and just yelled through the door.”

It seemed smarter to stay out of it. Fanboy was still slouched over the table. Bob looked like he was losing it just a little. Payback, Maverick, Penny, and Amelia were all captivated by the drama playing out in front of them. Hangman had at least the decency to look embarrassed while Phoenix just kept repeating “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

You leaned back, half against your chair and half against Bradley, and raised your hand to stop one of the passing waiters. You needed that third mimosa.

Bradley just put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him before pressing a kiss to your temple and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“We should get married more often.”

#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

Text

reverb • chapter eleven

synopsis: eren and (y/n) finally meet again after weeks apart, only to find themselves engaged in a weekend full of passionate love making. In the midst of their steamy rendezvous, EJ poses a question that not only leaves the shocked (y/n) stunned but himself as well..asking if she’d like to go out with him. Not certain of how things will pan out if they decide to date, (y/n) is hesitant but then recalls a conversation she’d had with her uncle just days prior. What will her answer be? Meanwhile, the aftermath of Armin’s annual party is revealed when he and Niesha’s game of cat and mouse comes to a boiling head. Things only get worse when his affluent, billionaire parents invite him to dinner to discuss an important family matter. The carefree playboy is given news that will force him to make the hardest decision he’ll ever have to face.

word count: 9.5K

content + themes: sexual themes, fluff, romance, mentions of tarot, spirituality and light work, violence, mentions of gang activity and guns, drug mentions, bits of angst, more flashbacks of (y/n)’s past, mentions of abuse, comedy + humor, crack, drama, choking but it turns sexual idk how to describe it, sorry, toxic, TOXIC behaviors I do not condone, angsty at the end

“Whatever choice you make, son. I support and always be proud..I won’t be upset with you no matter what but just make sure that it’s one you can live with.”

📝: thank you guys so much for sticking around and supporting this story! I’m so happy when you guys send thoughtful comments and feedback, asks, etc. it makes my entire day and gives me so much motivation. I know y’all are probably sick of the cliffhangers but trust, there’s a reason! 😭 anyways, I hope you like the story. Reblogs, comments, etc are very appreciated!! Also, I like to make the reader’s backstory as vivid as possible. Although you may not resonate with it personally, it is important to the story itself. So keep that in mind when reading, please.

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“Wh-what?..wait, EJ..what are you saying?”

“..Thought I made myself pretty clear..I want to go on a date with you. Do this right..”

in that moment, time felt as if it were standing completely still..nothing about this entire ordeal felt like reality right now. There was no way that not only had you spent hours entangled in the sheets with EJ the Don, exchanging kisses, sweat and every other bodily fluid possible. There was no way you were in this famous rapper’s house, let alone his bed..and there was certainly no way in hell that he had just asked you out mid-orgasm..certainly you had to be dreaming! But alas, here you were with your bodies melded together as one. Those jade colored eyes beaming down at you with the most serene of energy. In a way, his words brought you comfort..peace. Normally, guys would try and pressure you into situations that you weren’t ready for. Using sex as a clever segway into whatever their true goal was. But that wasn’t the case with him. Truth be told, he didn’t have to lie to get what he wanted..he was honest to a fault and maybe that was one of his biggest flaws. He couldn’t be deceitful and that oftentimes led to him hurting people’s feelings. His little spat with Mikasa was a prime example..had he exercised a bit of restraint, maybe the situation wouldn’t have blown up the way it had. With you, he was hoping to have the opposite effect. If he wanted you gone, you would’ve been ass naked in the back of an Uber before the sun came up. He was the last man who had to lie his way into some pussy so obviously, he was coming from a place of sincerity. Pushing gently at his chest, (Y/N) shifted your head to the side, thinking that if you did not look at him directly, those pangs of butterflies wouldn’t come rushing through your stomach. Instead, you were met with the soft grasp of his fingers underneath your chin. “Or not..” pausing to collapse next to you. Not only for a breather but because he felt as though he had set something wrong. Maybe he was being a little too forward and persistent. Or maybe he was a damn fool and this whole school kid, whirlwind crush was unrequited. But little did he know, you felt the exact same! Hell, maybe even stronger..it had been forever since you’d look at anyone the way you did him. And so what if it had only been two months since you guys knew each other? You’d heard that age old cliche ‘love at first sight’ more than you could count. Even if it wasn’t quite to that stage yet, you knew it was far stronger than just sex. You both had set it in your minds, unbeknownst to the other..that if you fucked one more time and those feelings didn’t remain, then you’d call it quits. But as you suspected..you were head over heels. Even when you finally managed to get some rest after the long night, you were dreaming of him. It was crazy! It honestly brought you back to a conversation you had just a few days prior…

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flashback• five days ago: Wisteria Gardens Apartments • southside

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The warm Florida sun peering down over the coast of Miami Beach, waves crashing subtly against sandy shores as patrons splashed through the cool waters and children built grainy castles. The picturesque view is the ideal representation of the bustling city. But lying within its intricate roadways and landscapes was an entirely different viewpoint. One far less appealing and inviting. Only those familiar with the areas would dare travel there..for them, ironically..it was home. The only place they felt welcomed. The projects. The ghetto..where many of Miami’ elites got their start and oftentimes dubbed their stomping grounds. Including upcoming stars, (Y/N) (L/N) and Niesha Daniels. Residents of Opa Locka’s infamous 8th Street. Where drug dealers and sex workers roamed frequently. Where those who only knew of violence and criminal activity thrived..but for you? It always brought forth a sense of nostalgia. The strange thing was, you weren’t too far removed from the dire situation you grew up in but it felt unreal going from rubbing elbows with rockstars to now driving through your old hood with Dior shades on your eyes. You remember the nights that you and your granny would hear gunshots from down the street; getting word that one of her friends’ grandsons or nephews had been involved in gang activity. Or the more joyful memories of you and Niesha walking to the corner store on Friday nights. Dressed just like the girls who were dubbed ‘hoochies’ back in the day but sporting your sew ins, micros, long acrylics and gold earrings proudly. The smell of fresh fish frying and BBQ plates outside of the gas station while crowds chatted and danced. Dope boys stationed in the parking lot with the doors of their Chevy Impalas swung wide open, blasting Jeezy and Ross as you both walked by. Being cat called by men old enough to be your fathers as they shot dice in front of the store doorway. It was a very different life from the one you both lived now. Hence why you were back..hoping to gain some clarity from the one person you had been dreading to see since returning home. Navigating your new rose gold Mercedes G Wagon into the parking lot of the Wisteria Gardens Apartments, you pulled into an empty space, promptly killing the engine afterwards. On the opposite side of the large complex sat a duplex, tucked off in the corner. Luckily, that was your destination so you wouldn’t be spotted. Neither would your vehicle. Stepping out in high-top brown and pink Dunks, biker shorts showing off your small leg tattoo and a Balenciaga sweatshirt. The 613 balayage flowed down your back and tied into a ponytail..(y/n) tossed the small crossbody over your shoulder and headed up to the front door on the left side, where you left two small knocks. It was then that you were greeted by the sound of serene music and bells playing. You’d push the door once more to realize that it was not only unlocked but slightly ajar. If it told you anything, it was that the man inside was hard at work and awaiting you. “Unc? Uncle Bam..you home?” Silence.

That was until you heard the deep tone of a male answer you back.

“About time you showed up, honey..” turning around, you were greeted with the calming aura and deep set eyes of a tall, darker skinned male with a muscular build and neatly styled dreads. Around his neck hung an Eye of Horus pendant and crystals. It was him..

“Unc!”

“Welcome home, baby girl. It’s been so long.”

akin to that of a little child, you leapt into his arms and beamed with joy! It had been roughly two years since you’d last been to his home. Travel and work had kept you so busy, you never had time. He was the only living family member that you had any sort of contact with from either side. Much like the many estranged ones, your uncle Benny, affectionately known as Bam around the area had grown up into a life of crime and as they always say with trouble, it’s easy to get in and even harder to get out of. He had spent his younger years in and out of prison before landing himself in there for fifteen years after beating the abuser of one of his closest friends nearly to death. He was a good man with a kind soul.

During his incarceration, he delved deep into spirituality. More so tarot and lightwork. An innate gift he knew he had possessed since childhood. He decided that once he got out, he’d walk the straight and narrow from then on out. Now a free man, he spends his days honing his craft here at his home; doing detailed readings, cleanses and spell work. As quiet as it was kept, he was the sole reason you were where you were right now. Shortly after the death of your grandmother, you were left alone. Your mom and her only daughter didn’t even bother to show up to the funeral and once she did show her face, she caused a scene. Only coming around in hopes of claiming some inheritance so she could promptly go shoot it up in a back alley somewhere. Then there was your father, sitting idly in Florida State Prison, serving life after he committed the ultimate sin. Needless to say, you wanted no parts of either of them anyways.

But you needed someone and luckily, your uncle had gotten to a far better place since finishing out his stint. He was living in a very nice duplex home with his long time partner, Kelvin. Who was equally as kind and loving as he was. Without question, he allowed you to stay in the other half without paying a dime for as long as you pleased. The two had come upon some serious money from their old ventures and decided to invest their funds. Restoring old apartment complexes that had been previously overrun by gang members and providing low income housing to the residents. Sometimes even waiving rent payments altogether for those in need. Essentially investing back into the community they called home. He truly was your idol..especially since it was him who introduced you to pole as a means of stress relief and self expression. Soon, that hobby turned into untapped talent that he felt needed to be shared. So one day, you began sharing the videos to your bare Instagram feed, quickly accruing a large following. One thing led to another and now, you were performing on stages larger than life. Without him, there would be no Pole Assassins or (influencer name).

“I know..that’s kinda my fault. I’m sorry..been busy. Thank you for the biscuits by the way. They were so good.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, chile. I know how much you used to love those things. Miss (grandma’s name) used to make them for me all the time. Besides, I know them folks been keeping you on your toesss. But get that money. I ain’t mad at you.”

uttering the sentiment in a rather feminine and expressive tone, waving his hand fan to feign off any smoke. Candles burned from the corners, along with pungent incense. It looked as if he were just in the middle of charging some crystals when you came in. But it was rather perfect timing..as he had predicted, you’d be making your way over. So he was prepared!

“Gone take a seat, honey. I’ll get you some tea.” feeling just as cozy as you did years ago, you’d plop down in one of the plush, throne like chairs and wait for him to join you. Whilst he was pouring up a batch of his famous iced tea, you scoured the various decks of cards and oracles with your eyes. Fascinated by this unknown world, you could only imagine what this visit would entail. “So..tell me how the life of the rich and famous has been treating my dear niece..how’s Beyonce and ‘nem?” sending you into a fit of laughter. He was such a card sometimes, always saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Ooh..now Unc, you know I’m far from that but..we're working on it. It’s been good though..can’t complain..” Just then, a wave of sudden sadness overtook you and you’d recall crying this morning. And almost instantly, he’d pick up on it.

“But?..”

“But what?..”

A question you and he both already knew the fateful answer to. You were severely depressed; a hole you couldn’t seem to come out of. No matter how many accolades, accomplishments and even happy moments you accrued. It all felt meaningless..you still didn’t have the two things you so desperately sought after. And if anyone knew that, it was him.

“You still feel like you haven’t done enough. Or rather..something’s missing.” You knew he’d read you like a book but if you knew that, you’d also know that he was far from done with his investigation. Finally working his way back to the table, he’d hand you the glass and take a seat before you. The two oracle decks you were previously looking over, he’d pick up and shuffle through. He was full and aware of how to help ease your worry and hopefully clear up some of your pressing questions. He had done it so many times before..it had been so long since you’d had one of his signature readings. Uncle Bam’s predictions were almost always spot on so if you could trust someone’s intuition, even when it wasn’t your own, you could trust him. “Don’t worry,, we gon’ help you out. Take a couple breaths for me while I get these shuffled.” Without hesitation, you did so. Inhaling slowly and exhaling all the same with your eyes closed. This was always done to help center yourself before a reading; bringing you closer to the universe and to help you realize what it is you need to hear.

slowly but surely, he’d begin to dish out cards. Akin to that of a black jack dealer, they’d fly onto the table face down and soon after, he’d flip them over. Taking a moment to mull over them, he’d place his finger to his chin and release a deep sigh. The look on his face had you concerned for a moment..as if he were contemplating something serious. Perhaps, you were in worse shape than you thought.

“..there’s something you’ve been feeling conflicted about. Somebody rather. You’re scared..” the words drawing a look of concern and a slight gasp from between your lips. What exactly did he mean?

“These feelings..they’re strong. You feel so deeply for this person and you don’t want to because you’re afraid of getting hurt. Afraid that they won’t feel the same. It’s like you keep telling yourself, ‘it’s too soon..’ You also feel like if you pursue this one thing, then you failed at everything else. I’m seeing..flowers of some kind. Purple. Some flower that meant a lot to you. Maybe you saw something today that brought back intense memories for you. Maybe they even made you cry..”

as he was spouting off his visions, you’d feel a slight lump form in the back of your throat. It was heavy and hard to swallow. Afraid that if you did, you’d burst into tears right then and there. You hadn’t uttered a word to Uncle Bam about your situation and you knew no one else could have either. Not about your granny’s house, about Eren..nothing. Even Niesha, who was a notorious blabbermouth. He more than likely whisked right into your apartment with those biscuits and right out. As far as the flowers, he was spot on. The name of this place? Wisteria Gardens and ironically, it was the same plants that surrounded this complex. Much like the ones that used to grow in your grandma’s yard every year. Beautiful, lavender flowers that hung like bearing fruit. Seeing them again dredged up those memories of playing in the yard and picking them for her vases. It was just his innate sense of intuition. He truly was a master of his craft. Divinity was his true calling! He’d pull back for a moment and wipe his own eyes, reaching over for a burning stick, wrapped in twine and cloth. “Whew! Gon’ make me break the sage out in here..this is heavy, honey!..” breaking a bit of the tension and intense emotions up by making you laugh. “But let’s keep going..” he’d continue surveying the cards and shuffling through. Picking out the ones that resonated with him the most. Fortunately, there was some good in this reading so he’d gravitate towards that.

“..But I see you’ve also been feeling gracious. I’m seeing a lot of gratitude. You’re happy with how far you’ve come. There’s something you’ve had your eye on..maybe a new purse or some type of jewelry. Reward yourself, chile. You’ve earned it.” It was right then that he’d decide to place the cards down and remove his glasses, wiping up the remnants of his tears with a bit of laughter. That’s when he’d reach across the table to grasp your hands.

“(Y/N), sweetheart. You’re a wonderful young woman. Always have been..you got a good head on your shoulders. For as long as I could remember, you never gave your grandma trouble. You were smart, even when things were hard for you, you did everything you were supposed to and I’m so proud of you. It ain’t been easy for you and hell, you could’ve ended up just like me, your mama and your daddy but you didn’t..you’ve come such a long way..” It was then that the words began to spill out as did your tears because it had been so long since you’d heard someone tell you that they were proud of you.

“Thank you, Unc. I’ve been trying..I really have.”

But alas, that wasn’t all he had to say. There was one more tidbit of advice he had to give. Looking you dead in your eyes, he’d hold your hands.

“I know, baby. That’s why I’m telling you if you don't listen to anything else and I don’t need these cards to say it, it’s this..go live your life. You’ve been working since you were seventeen. Ain’t stopped since. Your granny would be so proud of you so go live. If this person is truly making you as happy as I can tell they are, go for it. Go find your peace, you’ve earned it.” and with that, you knew from that moment, what had to be done….

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So with this man now lying next to you, eyes averted to the covers because he was a little embarrassed, you’d hastily reach over and cup his face into another kiss before rolling over on top of him. “Stop looking like that.” immediately, he’d begin to flush red and try to form a sentence but you rendered him impossible with your tongue. Brushing your fingers through his hair and straddling him. Just a moment ago, you seemed completely uninterested and now, you were trying to go at it again. What changed?

“Of course I’d love to go out with you, EJ. Nothing would make me happier.” and you had just made him the happiest he had been in a while! Grabbing your waist, he’d break into an adorable cackle, just feeling so relieved that you hadn’t rejected him. “Thank goodness..” which brought you to a soft giggle in return. Which soon transformed into you full blown laughing. For the first time in a long time, you’d have a heartfelt laugh..

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing..I was just thinking about something.”

Flipping back over onto your side and running your finger down the perimeter of his chest, you’d place a gentle kiss along his cheek before coiling those smaller arms around his torso.

“So what exactly did the brilliant EJ have in mind for a first date?” causing the rapper to gulp in response because out of all his areas of expertise, romance wasn’t his strong suit. The fact that he had actually managed to bag your fine ass in the first place was an achievement in and of itself! Now, he was left with the task of ensuring that he kept you around..cradling his arm around you, he’d look down with a soft grin and place a kiss to your forehead. Trying his hardest to lay on the charm.

“Well, I was thinking maybe a nice dinner, a little walk on the beach..” but as his words trailed off, something told you that wasn't exactly his style. He seemed far too laid back for the luxurious, pompous date nights..but he was trying to be as chivalrous as possible. After all, it wouldn’t be the slightest bit polite to take a woman he had spent all night going raw in for burgers and fries on an official first date! Even so, you wanted him to be comfortable as well. Something you’d both enjoy. Not only that, if you wanted to do this right and not just be two people sleeping together without the slightest clue about the other..then it was important to just let go of the awkward jitters and ask outright what your interests were. No need in being shy after all that had happened. No need in being afraid..this was a safe space.

“Unless..there’s something else you wanted to do.” which prompted you to start giggling yet again. And this time, his little cheeks flustered red and he’d stare yet again, feeling embarrassed. Nobody had tripped EJ the Don up quite like you. Here he was stumbling over himself like a bumbling idiot and all of that confidence he had used to seduce you was flying out the window. Even so, you thought it was just the cutest thing ever. “Not at all. That actually sounds really nice but..I wanna know what it is you like to do. Not just what you think will impress me. In fact…” stopping amid your rant to run a finger down the center of his chest. “I wanna get to know the man behind all of that music. The real you..I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love me some EJ but..Eren? He seems a lot cooler and I can’t wait to meet him.” And for the first time in a long time, his heart would begin to flutter..beating out of his chest because no woman had ever asked him such a thing. Granted, he was putting them out before they could get too close but deep down, he knew they only wanted one thing and that was to use his namesake for a come up. They didn’t care about who he was outside of the chains, money and fame. He was a meal ticket and nothing more. And here you were, wanting to see him for who he truly was. To hell with waiting or being too soon, he had to make you his before somebody else came and snatched you up!

“We’re a little past favorite colors and TV shows, don’t you think?”

“No better time than the present, sweetheart. Maybe we can talk about it..after we get a shower.”

Which didn’t sound like too bad of an idea right now. The only question was what you were going to wear, seeing as how you arrived in nothing more than a bikini and had been wearing nothing but his sheets and body fluids since. But he’d figure something out. For now, you two of you could continue your ‘bonding’ under the warm waters of a shower head.

“Guess you’re right. Speaking of..what do you like for breakfast? I can have my assistant go get–”

“I was actually thinking I’d cook a little something. If you don’t mind. The restaurants on this side of town can’t make breakfast worth a damn. They crack an egg on the plate, smear some sauce around and charge a hundred dollars for it. No thanks..hope you like grits.”

that was all he needed to hear to be confident that he had made the right decision..you were everything he had been looking for in a woman!..grinning from ear to ear, Eren would roll to his side and hop up, gently tugging you up afterwards.

“Or do you northerners not know anything about that?”

“Give me some credit now. I’ve been living among you country bumpkins long enough to know about grits. And other things too.”

It felt good to know that neither of you had to put on a facade around one another. And with that, the witty banter and jokes ensued. Poking fun at one another like old friends.

“Oh, is that so? Like what?” questioning as the two of you walked towards the bathroom. It’s then that he’d lift up your arm and twirl you around to examine your backside, even leaving a light slap to watch it ripple. “I know that it didn't come from a doctor. That’s gotta be greens and cornbread. Got to be.” Shaking his head in pure awe at how thick you were. The one thing he loved about living in the south were the women..the girls who were homegrown and country fed. Long before he was surrounded by BBL bodies, he was blessed with the fortune of seeing the ladies that didn’t need a knife. The ones that had the kind of ass that would make somebody do a double take and clutch their chest. But even so, he’d send you into a fit of laughter, playfully slapping his chest.

“Get away from me. Play too damn much.”

“What?! I didn’t lie..matter of fact, lemme get a closer look.”

Playfully chasing you into the shower where the second bout of your morning would surely ensue. There wasn’t a single doubt that you two would have no problem adjusting into a relationship.

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But unfortunately, the same couldn’t have been said for you guys’ best friends…the people both of you adored more than anything and the ones who had been seeing one another long before (y/n) and Eren even decided to hook up. Armin and Niesha weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye at the moment, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Seeing as how both of them truly only got along when they were fucking like rabid animals. Otherwise, it was a toxic game of cat and mouse. A test to see who could make the other jealous first. Posted up with this girl and hugging that dude. Childish antics if you’d ever seen any. Nonetheless, it worked for the chaotic pair. That was until last Friday at that yacht party, when it all came to a very explosive head.

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flashback: part two - miami port

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“So you gone sit and play in my face like that?! You gone lie and tell me you wasn’t with the bitch? Armin, who do you think I am?”

“And if I was..what exactly are you going to do about it? But since you asked, Niesha. I’ll tell you exactly who you are..an idiot. I mean, no offense, baby but you have to be out of your fucking mind to think that we were anything more than this. What? You thought because I brought you a couple purses, some jewelry that me and you would be together? Sweetheart, you are nothing more than some stress relief. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll admit, the pussy was good..amazing even but I don’t plan on settling any time soon. Especially not with someone like you.”

words that stung like bees, ones that should have been cutting deep and sending her into hysterics..if it were anyone else! But it was just as (Y/N) had said:

“Haven’t met a dude she hadn’t left crying yet.”

and just as she had predicted, Armin was up next! Rather than bursting into tearful sobs and cries, he was met with cackles and hearty laughs. A tattooed hand and long acrylics covered her mouth as her head flew back. Eventually doubling over in laughter.

“What the fuck is so funny?” His nerves obviously rattled by how unbothered she was. He knew that Niesha was crazy and hell, that was half the excitement but damn, any other woman would have at least slapped and said she hated him. Here she was cackling like shit was sweet..just what was this girl’s problem?!

“You done? Like I said, Armin..who do you think I am? You can save them lil’ weak ass insults for a bitch with no self esteem. I said it before and I’ll say it again..’you not going nowhere. And neither am I..” standing ten toes down in her sentiment, even folding her legs and pretending to swipe over her long nails. Completely unfazed by anything he’d said before. However, Armin was a little stirred in his spirit. Always getting riled up when he was with Niesha. That was the effect she’d had on him since the first night they met. Heated arguments turned to fiery, passionate sex that was always better than the last. But tonight, he’d decided he had enough and was calling it quits for good. He had to..otherwise, he was going to lose his own damn mind!

“Oh..you thought I was mad about that lil’ brokedown girl you had in your Insta story. If you’re gone try to make me jealous, at least get a bitch with all her teeth. Have some class.” and it was then that he’d retort back, trying to defend himself. He had been pacing the floor of the master bedroom suite in the ship’s cabin, trying not to lose his cool but this girl was really testing his patience. She had the nerve to cheat when he had spent all of that money on her?! The nerve. What made her so special from all the rest of the girls that fell in love with him?

“Says the one fucking half of The Miami Heat. Don’t try to check me for some shit when you’re doing the same thing. I saw you with him, Niesha.”

“That’s right. While you were getting neck from ol’ gummy bear, I was getting my shit cracked. I’m not your bitch so what are you mad for? This free game.” And little was he aware of the can of worms that he had popped open.

“You know what your problem is? You’re entitled. You try to compensate with all these lil’ hoes because you’re really a loser, baby. You think they’ll actually fuck with you if you ain’t have the bread you did? C’mon now. Flexing mommy and daddy’s money ‘cause you would’ve never made it otherwise. Went and got you a chain, some tattoos and started showing your ass. But the real Armin? Ain’t nothing but a square ass ‘lil nigga looking for approval because his parents never gave it to him. You are so used to everybody kissing your ass because you throw a lil’ change in their face. But I’m not one of them. Ion care about you or your money. That bag? I already had two. Your lil’ necklace? I gave that shit away. We wouldn’t be together..you right..community dick is good for one thing and that’s never being seen in public with it. Matter of fact, I think Connie and Ony are here tonight. Might go see what their fine asses are hitting for. I need a real man.”

Suddenly, she’d stand to her feet and begin making the trek towards the door. As if nothing had happened but Armin was not about to let that happen. “Shit, if my sister hadn’t got to him first, maybe I would’ve fucked EJ too. Heard that dick was hitting—” suddenly, any bit of restraint and level headedness he may have had..went straight out of the window. Before she could walk out, Armin would grab her arm and force her against the wall. “Watch your fucking, Niesha.” Causing her to start cackling yet again. It was as if nothing phased this woman. His words may have meant nothing but hers hurt like a bitch! Insulting him, playing on his insecurities and then proudly admitting that she’d fuck his best friends?! She’d gone too far! He had gotten so worked up, he’d hadn’t even realized that his hand was latched around her throat. Immediately freezing because he’d never in his life hurt a woman and if she brought him to that point, then she had to go but before he could take it away..the look in Niesha’s eyes told a different story..one that thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of his hands around her neck and even signified it by biting her lip; sucking her teeth in a lecherous manner. This toxicity truly got her excited!

“Mmm…now I like that shit.” Getting visibly aroused at the vice grip he had on her. Even prompting him to squeeze tighter because it’d get her wetter. All Armin could do was laugh because once again, she had worn him down and pulled him right back into her trap.

“You’re a crazy bitch, you know that?..or maybe I’m the crazy one for fucking with you..”

Just then, he’d feel his thumb between her plump lips, being suckled on and her deep set, dark, siren like eyes laser focused on him and his biggest weakness..that sweet little voice that she always drew him in with.

“Maybe..but..” and before she could complete the sentence, he’d have her up against the dresser, legs spread and her thong pushed to the side. “You’re right, I’m not going anywhere. And you’re sure as hell not. This pussy belongs to me, act like you remember.” This time, tugging her by her hair with the same force; proof that he was done playing games with her. He was going to show her what a real man was alright! “Now put that fucking phone down..” That slight grimace in his voice sent to her spine and her sensitive spot. She loved seeing him like this. Hence why she got his ass in an uproar in the first place. She wanted to get him as angry as possible to get him to take his frustration out on her. “Mm..whatever you say...”

Because in the end, she always got her way. And Armin? He’d finally met his match!

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Hence why, at the moment, he was headed into the Nobu, one of Miami’s premier eateries. Notorious for feeding some of the city’s most elite. Tonight, they’d be hosting the Artlerts..the leaders of a multi billion dollar conglomerate, earning their fortune in oil and technology..stemming back from the early nineteen hundreds. Needless to say, they were descendants of old money and Armin, was a direct beneficiary and byproduct of such wealth and he certainly took advantage of it. However, his parents had contacted him earlier in the week to inform him that they’d be flying into town and that there was important business that they needed to discuss with him. What exactly they had to discuss was a mystery..however, all would soon be revealed. Dressed in one of his several designer ensembles; an all black Armani suit..turtleneck tucked into his slacks with a matching belt buckle. Covering the plethora of tattoos that littered his body. Silver rings adorning his fingers and a matching necklace. Coordinated and fitting just right..the potent aroma of Tom Ford cologne radiating from his body..he truly looked like a million bucks. But unfortunately, his mood didn’t exactly match his current physical shape. Being with family should have been a monumental occasion. Marked with laughs, good times and love. And for the bright eyed, young producer..it was in his earlier years. As the only child to wealthy entrepreneurs and presumably, the heir to a massive fortune, they poured every ounce of adoration, care and their limitless resources into ensuring that Armin had the best upbringing possible. Private schools, tutors, a fully funded college education, and the best things that life had to offer. Which paid off..Armin excelled in every aspect of his life. Top tier grades; which earned him a steady four point six average until he graduated college with a degree in marine biology. He played baseball, basketball and rugby, an aficionado in all three and was even his university’s point guard up until junior year. Needless to say, he was his parents’ pride and joy. But it seemed as of late, that satisfaction seemed to have dissipated a bit. The Artlerts had high expectations for their child. Naturally, they supported anything that he wanted to explore and backed him one hundred percent..however, they weren’t betting on any of those ventures including making music. Less known, in the hip-hop industry. Granted, they had no qualms about it. If that’s what made him happy and he put his entire focus into it, then it was all that they could ask of their son.

That just wasn’t the case for Armin though. As successful and bright as he was, he was equally as reckless and rambunctious. Drinking, partying and laying up with various girls. Although he kept his parents out of the loop, it didn’t take long before word of his antics made it back to them via their inside sources who kept tabs on him and it was safe to say that they were not happy.

Hence why he was so nervous to meet with them tonight..the shame and embarrassment that was beginning to set in. He knew that his family would either scold him until they were red in the face or just give him a lecture of pure disappointment. Either way, he wasn’t much in the way of hearing it. Regardless, he’d traipse into the lofty establishment, hands tucked into the pockets of his suit as the hostess greeted him. Having quite the reputation and prestige, she informed him that his party was waiting and saw him to his table immediately. Glass chandeliers hung from the ceilings and cerulean lighting illuminated the dimmed dining area. Tables and booths lined with silky white cloths and perfectly folded napkins, seated next to polished silverware. Wine glasses filled with crystalline water and patrons, unmistakable members of the upper echelons chatted among their peers about finances, private trips and shopping sprees. It all felt so suffocating!

“Armin, darling! So glad you made it..”

Suddenly, a middle aged woman with honey blonde tufts, styled into loose curls, deep blue eyes and a pink satin gown with fur doused across her shoulders arose from her seat to drape her arms around him. The exorbitant pearls hanging from her neck and the Elizabeth Taylor perfume surrounded Armin like a warm embrace.

“Mom! It’s so good to see you.” grinning from ear to ear. No matter how old he grew or the amount of time that passed, he’d forever be his mom’s baby. Or as she could so affectionately dub him, her “pumpkin pie.” Because he was so sweet as a child. Seated next to her, was a man with a lighter variation of the hair color and features, with the exception of stubble and slightly thicker brows. His voice rang out with a stronger vibrato as he greeted his child. “Good to see you, son.” “Dad..good to see you too..” Reaching over to extend his arms for a hug. The tension had somewhat subsided from Armin’s body..seeing his folks again. At the end of the day, he was their baby regardless of what he did. “Please, have a seat.”

however, the news they came to deliver was going to do little to make him feel settled once revealed. Pulling his chair out, Armin would do as his mom instructed, taking a swig of water afterwards. “So..how’ve you been, Armin?” His mother made the first inquisition. Out of genuine concern and to break the proverbial ice. It always was easier for him to open up around her. He’d go on to tell them that he had been doing fine and that he was set to go on tour soon with his boys. They were working on some big projects and he was doing fine. Completely omitting the fact that his promiscuous, womanizing ways had caught up to him recently. Granted, he wasn’t going to let Niesha or her nonsense take him off of his true course but he couldn’t continue on playing these games..it was fun but it was also taxing. Even so, he couldn’t stay away from her. That’s how addictive it was. His mom seemed to be pleased by the update..her son in good health and spirits was all that she could ask for. Even if she didn’t exactly understand Armin’s career choice or even agree with it at times, it made her smile knowing that her son was happy..seeing him beam with excitement as he talked about working with these amazing artists and the upcoming festival his label was putting together. He also mentioned getting to work with the Pole Assassins and how they were bringing something new and innovative to the industry. His mother would grin and giggle, listening and even asking pertinent questions, ones that he was happy to answer. It took his mind away from all the other things and possibilities that could have been coming with this conversation. “Oh sweetie..I’m so proud of you. It sounds like you’re having a wonderful time.” She’d hoist her glass with a cheery expression and take a sip to commemorate his success. That’s when he’d glance over to his father, who shared a similar expression, faintly grinning and nodding.

“I have to agree. It’s good to see you doing something you love, son. Very proud of you.” His father would nurse his champagne once more before setting his glass back to the crisp tablecloth. Regardless of how he felt, his parents had never put this immense pressure on him or made him feel inadequate for his choices. Many of his peers who had also come from esteemed backgrounds were constantly under the scrutiny of their guardians. They were working in prestigious, lucrative fields, making endless amounts of wealth and doing great things. And still didn’t have their family’s respect. Armin was truly fortunate. Even so, it didn’t stop them from worrying. It didn’t stop them from being afraid that one day, the entertaining lifestyle would catch up with him. They weren’t blind or stupid..not by a long shot. They knew their son partook in all of the things that his and his friends lyrics’ entailed. “So..are you seeing anyone? Is there a lucky girl in your life?” His dad, who had always teased him, knew how flustered he became, mainly because despite his playboy appearance now..his son was the most adorable nerd in his former life! “Ah-well..you know. I’m just kinda..keeping my options open.” Part of him was ashamed and another half was nervous. Ashamed that he couldn’t present his folks with a suitable young lady. That he hadn’t brought a date to any of their meetings..he was aware that they wanted him to get married, start a family but he just wasn’t ready to commit to that yet. He wanted to have fun, mess around and more so..have his fill! He didn’t want just one lady. It wasn’t his style..on the other hand, he was nervous..nervous because he could no longer deny the feelings he had for that insane woman. Regardless of how batshit crazy Niesha drove him, she’d had her claws sunk into his skin deep and he didn’t want anyone else but her.

Even at his party, after fighting with her and everything, he made love to her as if he were hoping to make her stay and although she was just saying the most evil things..she told him she loved him. Crying it into his ear as she held him close. He’d been with a couple girls here and there but all he could think about was where she was..was she thinking of him too? He was nervous because if he could no longer fight his urges, would he be able to bring her home? Would they accept her?…would they still be proud of their baby boy? She came from an entirely different world than him. One he loved being a part of. She was wild, rambunctious and unfortunately, couldn’t flip a switch the way he did. Maybe that’s why he was so obsessed with her ass! She lived in her truth twenty four seven. There was no faking with her..and ironically, he admired that. And despite what she said, she actually gave a damn about him..unlike the others. She was honest, she made him care about himself and didn’t allow him to stay in bad places too long. It was crazy..

“Well I’m sure the right girl will come along soon..” “..yeah, unless you just have no game.” His father uttered with a sly look, making Armin scoff and laugh as he took another sip. “You wish, old man. I have many problems but that’s not one.” He always enjoyed when he and his dad would banter back and forth. It reminded Armin that he was human and not this billionaire machine, who only focused on amassing profit. “Alright, this old dog could teach you some tricks. All you have to do is ask.” The three would laugh, joke and have a wonderful time. “Oh please, don’t let him fool you. He was a scared wreck when he asked me on our first date. His friends had to deliver his love letter during class because he was so nervous. Adorable, really.” “It was called delegating tasks. I just knew you’d say yes.” "You're so full of it.."

He was truly enjoying this time and feeling back to himself. He felt as if he could truly be honest and open with them. More so than when he was younger..they weren’t inherently strict but they kept him on a tight leash so that he didn’t wind up like some of his other classmates; taking Adderall and Xans during ski trips or family gatherings. He was the one and only heir to the Artlert Industries fortune. Hence why once their meals were brought out, they’d pose another question..

“Hope you don’t mind, we ordered for you since we had no idea when you’d arrive. Your favorite.” And they were spot on. Linguine with spinach and lobster. “Not at all..thank you.” As he took the first bite of his dish, that’s when Mr. Artlert would look directly up at his son..

“Armin..do you like making music? Is this something you enjoy?..”

The question came as a bit of a shock, honestly. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought about that in depth. Armin first began delving into music as an adolescent..he sang in the church choir as a young kid and was gifted his first instrument when he was twelve years old. It was the core link that bonded him and EJ together so for him, it was essentially something that changed his life. He honestly had never thought about doing anything else..

“Of course..I wouldn’t if I didn’t. Why do you ask?” but it was more than just genuine curiosity and sudden interest in his son’s career that had the Artlert matriarch inquiring. There was an entirely different reason other than quality time that had prompted this dinner as well. Truth was, the Artlerts had been keeping a rather worrisome secret from their son and was contemplating when would be the appropriate time to divulge. Now was as good as any..might as well rip the bandage off and come clean. Clearing his throat, Mr. Artlert would take a swig of his wine before proceeding.

“Armin..your mom and I..we..”

At that moment, his stomach began to sink to its lowest pit and he’d begin to form a hard lump in his throat. What exactly did they have to tell him? Why were they stalling?!..Just then, his cerulean eyes began to dilate twice their size and even well up a bit. Were they getting a divorce? Did something happen to the company? He wished that they’d say something! But he’d wait no further because his mom would grasp a nearby handkerchief and press it to her face to conceal her inevitable tears. “Mom..what’s wrong? Please!..tell me.” his parents were his entire world and he couldn’t imagine anything causing them grief. But soon, he’d join in on the heavy feelings when his dad confessed something that he wasn’t expecting.

“Son..I went to the doctor last week and he informed me that they found something. A tumor..” the words seemed to have frozen time in its very tracks and shook the young producer to his core. He couldn’t believe it. “A-a tumor? Wait..are you?--” no! He couldn’t even say it! He couldn’t even fathom such a horrendous thought. Clutching his glass, Armin’s hands began to tremble and his breathing was labored. How could they keep such a secret?! How could they not tell him sooner?..the thought of something happening to the man that he so desperately admired and looked up to was terrifying.. he was scared to pry any further. Almost becoming childlike but just as he had done during his upbringing, Armin’s father would ease his mind.

“Fortunately..they did catch it in time so before it becomes too far malignant but the next couple months on my treatment will be crucial. I’m doing everything I can to ensure that I won’t become ill. I’ve hired the best team of doctors and I’m currently on sabbatical from the company. My board of advisors have already made proper arrangements as well. I’ve taken all precautions.”

It was a relief, truly. Although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he still had a fighting chance and that was more than enough for Armin. However, it wasn’t the only reason for his disclosure. He had an ultimatum of sorts for his son.

“Armin..you are the one and sole heir to the family business. Once I’m no longer around, you will be the one to step in. How you choose to proceed is your choice entirely–” “Don’t talk like that..don’t talk like you’ve already given up.”

He couldn’t stand it and although he assured him things would be fine, he couldn’t believe that until he had an official clean bill of health and stopped speaking as if he knew something Armin didn’t. But this was a pivotal moment..one where Armin would have to, for once in his life..make a hard decision. One that would require sacrifice..

"I'm going to fight as hard as I can, you have my word. I won't let something like this get me. But I have to know that you'll work just as hard to ensure your future. You've always been a bright young man and I trust that you'll continue to do what's best for you.."

it didn't take a rocket scientist to get what exactly he was implying. How far could music truly take him? Was it sustainable?...he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure how to process any of this but what he did know was that this wasn't going to be an easy road and he had a lot to contemplate from here on out.

"I'd be lying if I said that I am a fan of what you do. Can’t stand it. The music..the partying, all of it is not what I envisioned for you. Sometimes makes your mother and I feel as though we failed." Quite brutal but he could only speak from his heart. Tough love was sometimes necessary, even at the expense of his feelings. But there was one thing that he wanted his son to know above all else:

" That said..I love you, son. We both do..“Whatever choice you make, I support and always be proud..I won’t be upset with you no matter what but just make sure that it’s one you can live with.”

and something told him that his time to decide was running out..

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

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