#especially if he says the elbow bend thing helps the hand cramping and all that

[cat-26]

Etho providing us with new photos of his weird setup

[babyybitchhh]

This is the anon who commented about yami! I didn't like nozel at first but I can't lie, he kinda grew on me and he's fine asf. I couldn't look at magna in anyway until I saw him with his hair down. Now I'm like 👀👀👀. More than anything, I just want yami to ruin me. Spank me and call me a good girl pleaseee

Yessssssss

Yami was BUILT to be daddy. So strong, so rough around the edges but with a big soft heart, so beefy 💗🥴💗

Words: 3937

Warnings: daddy kink, alcohol, drunk fingering, vaginal fingering 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172960

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You probably should have known better than to start drinking with them. No, not probably. You definitely should have known better.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty though, and you could see now just how grievous a mistake it had been to accept Vanessa’s invitation without stopping long enough to consider the consequences but, well ... she was one of the only other women in the squad and she seemed to like you well enough. You wanted her to keep liking you, of course. So you’d foolishly jumped at the chance, far too eager to be included in this decidedly unorthodox team bonding exercise of theirs.

The Black Bulls were, by nature, sufficiently rowdy enough on their own but adding alcohol to the mix only seemed to fan the flames. They were the very definition of unruly. Clothes had been shamelessly discarded, more cigarettes smoked than you would have thought possible, arguments over nothing at all turned heated with alarming frequency only to be immediately forgotten and you, you were stuck in the middle of it. Thoroughly lost in your own world and floating serenely through the hazy bog of consciousness without a second thought to what chaos was going on around you.

It was kind of nice, actually. Liberating.

“Remember, ya’ gotta’ have at least three matching pairs to discard,” Magna reminds the assembled party as he quickly deals out a fresh hand. “Or you can do the same suit if ya’ want, but it has to go in order. No incomplete sets.”

The worse for wear table everyone had initially gathered around started off cramped, a tight fit for so many people and with little elbow room to spare. As the night wore on, however, most of the plucky squadron had gradually called it quits and retired until eventually only four remained. You were proud of yourself for outlasting the others but you also knew just how in over your head you were with this particular group. Yami could likely drink anyone under the table and Magna appeared to keep up with him just fine. While Vanessa didn’t exactly hold her liquor well , she could certainly put it away. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were on your last leg here even if you were, for all intents and purposes, having a good time.

“Alright, lets see what ya’ got.”

Feeling simultaneously as light as a feather and sluggish under the weight of heavy, invisible chains, you slowly flip your cards over. It was hard to tell which way was up anymore, especially when your inner vertigo was so off kilter. You were warm, too. Almost unbearably so. Clammy in the worst possible way and you teeter forward in your chair, struggling to focus your swimming vision on the cards spread out in front of you.

It was a shit hand.

Grumbling under your breath, you distractedly tug at your clothes. A soft, fitful whine claws its way up your throat when it does absolutely nothing to alleviate just how stiflingly hot you are and, in fact, only seems to make it worse. You were absolutely burning up and this card game was its own special brand of torture, you decide with nothing short of woozy contempt.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Yami asks mildly from his spot beside you.

He was infuriatingly collected despite having consumed even more alcohol than you had, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful while you’d taken your time sipping on the fruity concoctions Vanessa made special just for you. You’d lost track of how many cups he’d emptied quite some time ago but you were still only on your third. It didn’t make sense. How were you so damn tipsy already?

“Hot.” You groan, not bothering to look up from what was possibly the worst hand you could have been dealt. Letting Magna shuffle the deck was, unsurprisingly, yet another mistake to add to the ever growing list.

Turning his head, Yami glances over at you and you catch the movement from your peripheral but still refuse to divert your attention from the cards. Maybe if you just stared at them long enough, hard enough, they’d morph into something you could actually use. You weren’t a magic knight in name only, right? Surely your grimoire was good for something .

“You’re drunk.” He suddenly announces, loud enough to make Vanessa whip her head around.

“M’not.” You grumble.

“Bullshit.”

The inebriated witch inserts herself into the fray before you can respond, wrapping slender arms around your shoulders and pulling you in against her bosom. “Awww, honey! Did’ju really like my drinks that much?” She coos at you sweetly. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you drunk. Promise.”

“M’not drunk.” You insist, louder this time, much to Vanessa’s giggling amusement.

Heaving a clipped sigh, Yami leans across the table and taps your cards with a thick finger, slowly drawing your attention back to them. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” He says around the cigarette in his mouth. “But someone who isn’t piss drunk would probably know better than to lay their hand out on the table like this. Do you even know what game we’re playing right now?”

Mouth tugging into a frown, you wrack your muddled brain for the answer to that question. “Go fish?”

Magna inelegantly snorts at that. You can feel yourself starting to flush in embarrassment as Vanessa begins fussing over you, softly petting your head with murmured, nonsensical endearments. She definitely wasn’t helping matters and you sincerely hoped none of them could see your fluster.

Yami doesn’t seem to miss it though and he purses his lips, pinning you with an unimpressed glower. “That’s what I thought. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re officially cut off. No more booze tonight, okay?”

Both you and Vanessa groan in unison. Your head immediately starts to spin in earnest now and you slump against the other woman even as she grabs your drink and holds it up to you as if she were bottle feeding a baby. The notion that she might accidentally dump it all over your head when she was just as intoxicated as you doesn’t even cross your mind and you obediently open your mouth to accept her offering.

“Come on, captain! At least let her finish her dr-drink first! I worked really hard to -”

Yami cuts across her babbling with a huff, standing and grabbing hold of the cup so he can pull it away despite Vanessa’s best attempt to keep it in her fumbling grasp. You watch it go, feeling an odd mix of disappointment and relief. The giddy, jovial mood you’d been imbued with was nice, yes, but realistically your body probably couldn’t handle much more. It was likely for the best.

“Just knock it off.” Pointedly setting the drink down towards the center of the table, Yami turns back with a furrowed brow. “Are you trying to kill her or something? What all did you even put in that?”

Vanessa hums a noncommittal sound of guilt, winding a strand of your hair around her finger.

He scoffs and moves closer with an accompanying shake of his head. Your heart gives a little jolt when you realize he’s coming towards you, not Vanessa, and you can’t help the anxious tinge that sparks in your chest. He was probably mad at you for getting so drunk. He looked mad. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures though and you lean further into the softly swaying witch next to you in search of protection.

Much to your faltering surprise, however, Yami’s tone sounds closer to exacerbated than angry when he says, “Alright, brat. C’mere. You get to sit with me for the rest of the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure someone doesn’t try to sneak you anything else.”

You blink, thoroughly confused, and it feels like even something as simple as a muscle twitch takes a small eternity to accomplish. Yami either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care though.

Shooing Vanessa away, he bends at the waist and curls big hands under your armpits, hauling you straight up out of your seat. You outright squawk, flailing weakly in Yami’s grasp when you suddenly find yourself much further from the ground than you were used to. But your panic lasts only a terrifyingly brief moment and you relax when he draws you close, allowing you to curl your limbs around his thick frame. With a slight jostle, he adjusts his hold and secures you to the front of him. You instinctively nuzzle further into his arms, drunkenly whimpering as you tightly lock your elbows behind his neck.

“You’re no fun …” Vanessa whines on your behalf.

He clicks his tongue. “I’m thinking ahead. You’re not.” He says, those rumbled words reverberating inside your skull and further grounding you by some margin. “But if she gets sick, you’re the one who’s gonna’ clean it up.”

With that admonition, he moves back to his own chair and sits down again. It takes you a moment to get situated on his lap, still unbearably hot and fussy now after forcibly being removed from the fun. The last thing you want is to look like a lightweight in front of your teammates but he finally stills you with a large, mindful hand against your lower back. The silent warning in that innocuous gesture is enough to make you quit while you’re still ahead and, mewling something unintelligible, you press your warm face into his neck so you can settle in to pout.

Magna says something then, successfully distracting Vanessa from the subject, and the game carries on without you. The three of them don’t seem to mind the loss one bit as they seamlessly pick right back up where they’d left off.

It's hard to shake the feeling that your presence at the table was nothing more than an afterthought to them, or maybe a simple nicety, and it stung a little. There was no denying that. But you were much too hazy and disoriented to linger on it for more than a moment, molding yourself to the firm weight against you and going pleasantly slack in Yami’s arms. He was surprisingly comfortable, given his hard physique. A little too warm for your liking when you already felt swelteringly hot, but ultimately comfortable.

The even rise and fall of his broad chest is almost enough to lull you into dozing off right then and there with your head resting on his shoulder. Yami’s rough fingers tracing nonsensical, soothing patterns across your spine is the only thing that keeps you tethered to reality and you sit there, eyes closed, just listening to the slurred conversation going on at your back. It sounded far away now. Muted, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you didn’t mind that too much. Magna was loud enough when sober and even worse when he was drunk.

A long moment later, Yami removes the cigarette from his lips and turns towards you when the other two start bickering about the validity of a certain card sequence. “How you feeling, squirt?” He asks, pressing his mouth against your hair.

“Good.” You murmur dreamily.

He laughs, very quietly, and gives you the briefest squeeze. “Yeah? You’re deadweight, baby girl. Sure you’re not gonna’ pass out on me over there?”

“Mmhmm.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Yami focuses back in on the game. The hand resting on your back slips lower, inconspicuously giving your behind a playful tweak that seems to go unnoticed by the table's other occupants given that they keep talking without pause. Magna would more than likely look away, politely pretending he hadn’t seen it, but Vanessa … if she’d caught so much as a glimpse, you’d be hearing about it right now. That was at least one reason (of which there was many) why what you had with Yami, whatever it was, still remained a secret to the rest of the squad even though it was probably a miracle they hadn’t caught on already, especially when he was so damn handsy with you.

Normally you’d err on the side of caution for that reason alone but you felt just daring enough to give him little push back. Emboldened by the liquid courage sitting hot and heavy in your stomach, confident that he wouldn’t have initiated this had it not been safe to do so, you discreetly roll your hips into him. The drag of your pussy across the front of his pants makes your breath hitch and he stiffens underneath you. That’s all the reaction you get for your trouble though, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder and lean close to Yami’s ear.

“ Daddy …”

It’s nothing more than a tiny, breathless sigh but the effect it has on him is instantly noticeable. Steel chorded arm tightening around you, he breathes out a terse exhale and pulls you more firmly against his chest until you can scarcely breathe. A wavering puff of air slips from you as your thighs flex around his waist, silently trying to urge him on. It doesn’t work though and a shudder works its way down the length of your spine when he turns towards you again, growling right against the outer shell of your ear.

“Watch it.”

You whine, bucking against him more insistently. “ Nooooo .”

Yami snorts and swivels his attention back around to the cards clasped in his other hand. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you take a deep breath until the naturally heady scent of him swarms your senses like a fragrant, masculine cocktail. You can taste him in the back of your throat and it just makes you want him all the more.

Another wiggle of your hips is all the incentive he needs, calloused fingers slipping further down to grab a pinching handful of your ass. Roughly nudging you to sit a bit higher up on his thighs, he reaches lower and snakes his hand under your skirt. You squirm at the first touch against your panties, whimpering softly into his skin. Yami merely tightens his arm around you as he ever so carefully pulls the thin layer of cotton aside just enough to slide those sinfully long digits past the flimsy barrier.

“Spoiled brat,” He murmurs fondly, just loud enough for you to hear. “Already so damp and needy for me.”

You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself quiet, shuddering when he casually traces the length of your slit with abrasive fingertips.

Magna abruptly cackles about something and the sudden noise makes you jolt. Yami, to his credit, remains perfectly still though and merely waits a torturously long beat before continuing in rumbling hushed tones. “How long were you sitting over there in your own mess, hmm?”

“I - it’s not a mess.” You warble into his shoulder, your cheeks flushing hot.

“Oh? This certainly feels like a mess to me …” Pausing, Yami dips a finger into the meat of your labia and the slick quality of your pussy suddenly makes itself known. You hadn’t noticed until now, either because you were too caught up in your inebriated stupor or simply too focused on pouting to pay it any mind, but you were absolutely soaked. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Your body always responded eagerly to being manhandled by the captain but even this seemed a bit excessive.

Whining low in your throat, you decide you don’t want to play this game after all and try to angle your defenseless little cunt away from his searching hand. But Yami puts a stop to that quickly enough and shifts his legs further apart, forcibly spreading your thighs until you can’t find the leverage needed to wriggle out of his hold. You lip quivers when he takes advantage of this vulnerable position to worm a finger into the tight, squeezing heat of your body, gummy walls contracting around the intrusion with a pleasant flutter. It takes everything you have not to throw your head back and unabashedly moan up at the ceiling.

“Can’t you feel that, baby? You’re so wet I didn’t even have to work you open.”

Hiccuping, you shove your face against Yami’s neck again. “Dah - daddy … please .”

“Shh.” He warns even as he starts up a slow pace, sedately pumping into you. “Keep quiet or I’ll have to stop.”

As if on cue, Vanessa says something to him then and Yami effortlessly diverts his attention to the slurring witch as if nothing about the situation were out of place. You dig your nails into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades and bite back a groan, suddenly feeling ten times hotter than before. Even with all your concentration focused on keeping as still and quiet as possible, you find yourself imperceptibly arching to give him better access to your sticky cunt. It was certainly a blessing in disguise that she was just as drunk as you were, otherwise she might have given the whole thing a second thought. The way you were sitting on his lap. The smallest twitch of your hips to accompany the shallow quality of your breathing. It was so obvious what you two were doing. How had they not noticed already?

The table.

Neither Magna or Vanessa could see over it unless they came around and stood right next to the chair. You were essentially safe from the waist down and a fresh spark of confidence alights throughout your whole system with this realization, doubling and then tripling your arousal. It was still risky doing something so brazen right in front of them but you were just drunk enough not to care.

Loins twisting and curling, you carefully rear back to meet his shallow thrusts. You’d never felt more uninhibited in your whole life. “Oooh, daddy,” You whisper, choking on it. “Right there.”

Yami doesn’t miss a beat, easily keeping up with the conversation as he allows a second digit to slide in with the first. You feel the stretch in your bones and you quietly seeth, lashes fanning against the apples of your cheeks when it pushes you to just this side of discomfort. Even being as wet as you are, his fingers were just too thick for your eagerly clenching passage to accommodate them without some resistance and you hedonistically bask in the searing burn. It felt good. Almost good enough for you to lose yourself to the pleasure but, somehow, you manage to keep your wits about you instead of shamelessly writhing in his lap.

You may as well have thrown caution to the wind though. Discretion hardly mattered anymore. You already felt like a blatant little slut and the shock of how much that turns you on has your pussy drooling obscenely all over Yami’s hand.

“Hah - harder, daddy … nnghh, harder, please.”

Rather than obliging, he actually pauses his ministrations and you quietly mewl at the loss of friction. You squirm on top of his muscular thighs and desperately try to fuck down on his digits, panting like a bitch in heat against the captains neck. He shifts underneath you, says something to Vanessa that makes her direct a chiding tone at Magna. Their bickering starts up again and with the rise in volume, Yami gives his wrist a good twist that shoves his fingertips into your upper wall. Static electricity shoots through your system at the sudden pressure on that pulsing sweet spot and the tension in your gut immediately starts to toe the line of unbearable.

Your mouth drops open in shellshocked ecstasy but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to draw breath when the dizzyingly sharp jolt of arousal has your toes flexing uselessly in the air and you tremble, quaking in his arms. Unperturbed by the effect this is having on you, Yami takes his time caressing the velvety soft lining of your insides with sedately smooth motions. Those worn fingertips gradually curl up in the general direction of your belly button and press in deeper, harder, making your cunt absolutely gush around him. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“Oooh god !” You gasp, clutching him in a death grip.

Turning your head, you press your cheek against Yami’s shoulder and fix your gaze to a random spot on the far wall. The room looked like it was tilted on its axis - - spinning, spinning, spinning - - and all you can do is whine and shake when he scissors his fingers, making more room for himself within you.

You weren’t just overheated anymore. It was as if you’d caught flame, burning from the inside out, and it only gets worse when he flexes his hand, jabbing at the spongy soft spot again and again.

A choked off squeal rises in your throat, just barely held back by tightly clenched teeth. You’re almost positive you can hear the greedy, slopping clicks of your pussy sucking him in deeper just below the surface of the enthusiastic argument going on behind you but they don’t seem to notice. They just keep shouting back and forth at each other, oblivious to what was going on at the other end of the table. You have no idea how you’re getting away with this - aren’t even really sure if you will get away with this when all is said and done - but that’s the very last thing on your mind anymore as you haltingly roll your hips into the blinding pressure.

“Ah - ahh - d - dah - ahh - ddyyy !”

“Do it.” Yami murmurs, his mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Come now , baby. Do it while you have the chance. Come on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you give your pelvis one good little twist. The drag of your throbbing clit across the front of his rough pants is the last push you need, the resulting friction searing your veins. It sends you spiraling right over the edge into doped out bliss and you squeak, jerking against him when full bodied tremors grip you in earnest and make you shake.

Riding out the cresting waves as discreetly as you can, you blink back an onslaught of reflexive tears. Your pussy squeezes tight, milking your orgasm on his fingers, even though the effort of forcing yourself to remain quiet nearly breaks your resolve. But you manage, somehow, to breathe through it even as your hips weakly buck in unmitigated pleasure, subduedly twisting in his arms. It felt like you were drowning in it, choking on immense, all encompassing relief.

But Yami doesn’t immediately let up on his concerted attack, continuing to work you over until the spasms start to subside and you whine in frazzled distress. Digits finally stilling inside you, he offers a brief kiss to your hair and it makes you breathe out a tired sigh. You immediately slump, going boneless on top of him, now even clammier than when you’d started. The sweat clinging to your skin has you feeling worryingly damp but you were also satiated and comfortable. It was an acceptable tradeoff, as far as you were concerned.

“Such a good girl. You even managed to stay quiet for me. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling at the hushed approval in his tone, you snuggle further into Yami’s musclebound frame. You were floating on cloud nine, no longer concerned about being removed from the card game; not when the pleasant afterglow and the reassuring presence of your captain - your daddy - had you feeling so at peace. There would always be a next time.

[sickiebabytae]

They’ll Always Be There

Prompt:  Jungkook having a horrible tummy ache while attending an award show and he can’t concentrate on anything else but his aching tummy. Everything hurts and his clothes feel too tight and he wants to go home.

Word count: 1399

This is for @sickminnie​ who’s been wanting this fic for a while! Sorry it’s taken me so long to do it heh, but it’s here! I hope you like it :(( 

I do have to warn you, though, that I kind of got a bit carried away lol and strayed a little from the prompt, but I still wanted to post this for you! Enjoy~

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jungkook lays back against the stage with a groan, hand coming up to rest over his eyes that are squinted shut. The cheers of their fans ring in his ears, making his already pounding head squeeze with pain. He rolls over, panting heavily. In the back of his mind he knows he should get up, but he’s so tired. 

He had woken up with a faint nausea licking at the back of his throat and his stomach twisting with what were, at the time, at least, bearable cramps, but everything had slowly gone so, so downhill. By the time the award show had begun and he and his members had walked onto the red carpet, Jungkook felt about ready to pass out. It doesn’t help that the grueling performance the boys had just performed made him feel so incredibly sick to his stomach. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok whispers from next to him. “Gguk, get up, we have to leave the stage.”

Jungkook grunts in response, shakily pushing himself up and drowsily beginning to bow to the crowd. He sticks close to Hoseok as they stumble off-stage, his breathing laboured. Jungkook feels Hoseok’s familiar hold slink around his waist, and the maknae couldn’t be more grateful for the support his hyung gives.

They make it to the changing room for a small break and a few sips of water to wind down, and the first thing Jungkook does is collapse onto one of the couches with a groan. He squeezes an arm against his rumbling tummy and grimaces, wincing. He doesn’t even have the energy to hide it. “Yaah, Jungkook…” Hoseok whispers to his dongsaeng, crouching in front of Jungkook with pinched brows. “Jungkookie, look at me…” 

Jungkook forces his eyes open, the bright light of the room seemingly stinging into them and making his head ache further. The pain causes a wave of nausea to rush over him and he quickly screws his eyes shut once more, letting out a nauseous little huff. He shivers. 

Hoseok glances up at the other members, all of them sharing concern looks of confusion. The dancer reaches over and gently presses the back of his fingers to Jungkook’s cheek and forehead. “Aigoo, Jungkook... You’re burning up. How long have you been feeling like this?” Hoseok murmurs as he cards Jungkook’s hair back sweetly. 

Jungkook relaxes at Hoseok’s gentle, familiar voice, a shudder running down his spine. “This mornin’... wasn’t that bad.. Thought I was fine...” He whimpers. “Hyungie my stomach hurts so bad...” 

“He can’t go out like this. There are just awards left to receive, he doesn’t need to-” Namjoon begins, but Jungkook is quick to cut him off. “No! No... no, I-I’m fine... I just.. Need a second...” The boy swallows thickly and pushes himself upright with his elbows. His head spins. 

Hoseok frowns. “Jungkook...” 

“Hobi-hyung, I’m fine.” Jungkook mumbles, firmer that time. “Please let me do this, I’m okay. I can do this.” 

A collective sigh leaves the members’ lips and, after a beat of silence, Hoseok reluctantly begins to nod. “Fine. But if you feel worse, tell us. It’s okay to be sick, baby...” 

Jungkook gives a short nod before standing shakily and beginning to change into his formal clothes.

--

Jungkook soon realizes that he, in fact, most certainly cannot do this. He only feels worse and worse as time goes on, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s constantly out of breath, even now that they have spent enough time sitting down and relaxing for him to be okay. But he’s not. And his stomach. Oh god, his stomach. It twists and turns beneath his arm, forcing wet, sickly burps up his throat and grimaces to twist at his pale features. An especially harsh cramp courses through his ailing tummy, making the boy’s breath catch. He bends over double, lips pressed together. 

Hoseok and Taehyung share a worried look, the two flanking Jungkook’s sides. The older takes it upon himself to trail his fingers up and down Jungkook’s tense back. “Ggukie-yah... hey... breathe through it, you’re ok-” 

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Jungkook chokes out suddenly, pushing up from his seat and hurriedly rushing backstage. Panicked, Jungkook quickly waves to his fans and puts on a smile so as to not worry them, but the second he’s out of cameras’ and people’s sight, he sprints down to the nearest bathroom. 

Hoseok swears under his breath. “I’ll go after him.” He informs Taehyung, getting up from his own chair and taking hurried steps after their maknae. He mimics his movements, waving to the fans and putting on a smile until he’s out of sight, beginning to rush after Jungkook as fast as he can. Damn, Jungkook’s quick...

Jungkook gets down into one of the cubicles once he arrives and instantly begins to retch into the toilet bowl, wave after wave of vomit burning up his throat. He can barely breathe. He can’t breathe. 

Sobs accompany his heaves against his will, only taking his breath away further. God, he can’t do this. 

“Jungkookie, hey...” Hoseok coos, crouching behind the maknae with a frown. He begins to rub his back again. The dancer’s free hand comes up to brush the tears off of Jungkook’s burning skin. “Gguk-ah, breathe... hey...”

“I-I can’t- hyung- I-” Jungkook sobs, choking in a trembling, shuddery breath. “It hurts so bad...” He moans. 

“I know, I know it does baby...” Hoseok moves the hand that is on Jungkook’s cheek down to his stomach, wincing at how active and bloated it is under his palm. “Aigoo... you must feel so sick, huh?” 

Jungkook nods wearily. “Mhm...” He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by another torrent of puke spilling into the bowl. He whimpers. 

Hoseok winces. “Okay, you’re okay.. Get it all up and then I’ll take you right home, hm? Just me and you, we shared the car today anyways.” 

“N-No, hyung... you should s-stay... w-we can’t have two of us leaving in the m-midd-le...” Jungkook manages. 

“Yes we can, Ggukie. You can’t be left alone like this. You’re so sick...” Hoseok frowns, bottom lip jutting out. “Just me and you, m’kay? Is that okay?” 

Jungkook breathes out a shaky sigh before giving a small nod. “Mhm...” He raises a trembling hand to his face and wipes away his tears. “Think m’done...” 

“You sure? Your tummy is still being a little noisy.” Hoseok says with a soft smile. 

Jungkook’s cheeks flush a little. He nods again. “Mmh... yeah. But- no more... I-I can’t...” 

“Okay, Gguk, okay, I get it.” Hoseok helps the maknae stand, a small giggle leaving him. “Sorry I just- you’re so big now~ I remember when you first came into the dorm all tiny and cute~” He teases good-naturedly, feeling a rush of relief when he sees a smile tug at Jungkook’s pale lips. “Shut up, hyung.” 

Hoseok leads Jungkook to the sink and turns the tap on, cupping his hand under the running water before raising it to Jungkook’s lips. “Here, wash out your mouth.”

Jungkook obediently does so, spitting into the sink before leaning against his hyung with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Aigoo, you’re heavy. Let me call a manager to come help us.” Hoseok says, fishing his phone out. Minutes later their manager comes in to find Hoseok and Jungkook cuddled up on the floor, the older of the two smiling up at the man. “He fell asleep.” Hoseok mouths. 

The manager nods in understanding and crouches in front of the ailing maknae. “Jungkook-ssi, wake up.” He whispers. “We gotta get you to the car, hm?” 

Hoseok watches as Jungkook’s eyes flutter open weakly, a small groan leaving the poor thing. Hoseok sighs. “Come on, Kook, you can go back to sleep in a second. Just get onto manager-nim’s back, yeah?” 

Jungkook manages a tiny nod, sitting up and standing. Their manager crouches in front of him and Jungkook climbs on with a bit of help. The boy squishes his cheek against the older man’s shoulder and, within moments, he’s fast asleep again. 

He wakes up the next morning feeling just as sick as before, though the comforting feeling of his own bed helps calm him down. Glancing over, he recognizes the familiar form of Hoseok cuddled up to him, and Jungkook finds himself smiling a little. At least there are the hyungs. They’ll always be there. 

[felidaefighter]

Fears To Ease And Flesh To Mend

Ranboo and Tubbo find out that unzombifying a piglin is a bit different from unzombifying a villager, and they start off parenthood with quite a few complications and in a little over their heads. For the sake of their child, they may need to put awkwardness aside and ask for help.

[Sick fic, canon divergence, Phil and Techno meet Michael, lots and lots of piglin lore headcanons] ~20,000 words per chapter

Chapter Two of Four

     “Hey Phil,” Ranboo said carefully as they were coming back from trading with the local villagers, who gave good deals since they were grateful they’d been cured after being zombified, “What’s the difference between curing a zombie villager and curing a zombie piglin? Aside from the obvious.” Phil looked curiously at Ranboo while they walked. “That’s an interesting question. It is a little bit different, yeah. Technically the process itself is the same but ahhh there’s always some difficulties. Usually not worth the trouble.” Ranboo pondered this for a moment. “Huh. How do you mean?”

    “Well, because of where they’re from, piglins tend to have a bit of a resistance to magic. So the rotten flesh doesn’t really heal fully or automatically the way it does for villagers. The whole process is easier in the Nether, because the lack of moisture keeps the rot slow and less likely to spread after they’re healed.” Ranboo listened intently, opening his book and scribbling notes so he could keep track. “It’s just a rare thing to see happen, is all. Adult piglins especially, they’re such a warrior-based society that waking up hurting and confused just means they’re more likely to attack the person who healed them than be grateful. Not to mention they’re still going to have infections and rot. It’s just so uncommon because you’d never try and heal a piglin that you didn’t know beforehand. It requires so much aftercare and pre-established trust, like from before they were zombified, that without it it’s just bound to lead to the piglin dying anyways.”

    “Oooh interesting, interesting. But the dosage ratio of potions and apple and stuff is the same, right?” Phil nodded. “Yeah, between piglins and villagers and the little rascals, too.” He cackled a little. “General consensus tends to be it’s better to overdose on magic than underdose, because worst case scenario for inhaling too much of the weakness potion is you feel a bit queasy, and worst case scenario for eating too much golden apple is that you get a stomachache, but if you underdose the worst case scenario is they aren’t healed at all and can never be properly healed.” 

    They were just about at their houses now, and Phil shot Ranboo a look with raised eyebrows. “You don’t know any piglins aside from Techno though right? You aren’t worried about Techno are you mate? You don’t need to be-- he’s already gone through that process. He doesn’t need to do it again.” Ranboo stopped short. This was news to him, but also, it made for an excellent cover. For now at least-- admittedly he was still a little lacking on information for how to treat the infections properly. “Wait, really? Techno was zombified?” 

    “Ah, yep.” Ranboo nearly jumped out of his skin, spooked at Techno’s voice. The piglin must’ve come out of his own house to greet them as they arrived, and overheard the last bit of conversation. “An interestin’ way to enter a conversation, but yeah, I was.” Techno shrugged. “Just for a few seconds though. Happens with any piglin that wants to be able to traverse the overworld. Phil and I planned it ahead of time, so there weren’t really a lot of sores to deal with or anything. Definitely not where most of my scars come from,” Techno said with a bragging smirk. 

    Ranboo laughed a bit. “Of course, yeah. That’s so cool though, ‘cause I didn’t know any of that. It does make sense though, I think, yes.” Ranboo was desperately trying to sound normal and not allude to anything else at all. He really hoped it was working. “Ranboo, you good mate?” Phil asked. It was, apparently, not working. He tried to stay steady and even with his voice. “Yeah, no, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Techno kind of squinted at him, and Ranboo nervously curled in on himself just a bit, despite being slightly taller than the piglin.

    Techno looked like he was going to say something that surely would’ve made Ranboo explode with anxiety, but instead, he just shrugged. “Alright. We won’t pry. Will we, Phil?” Techno said, looking pointedly at the man, who very much looked like he did in fact want to pry, but conceded with a bit of a grumble and a small sigh. “Let us know if you’re curious about anything else though. Techno and I have gone around the bend with this one, we know the ins and outs.” Techno elbowed Phil (knowing this was his way of trying to subtly pry), who lightly smacked him back. Ranboo, in turn, nodded at them. “Mhm! I will, thank you.”

    Ranboo pretended not to notice as the two of them exchanged a knowing glance with one another, instead giving a wave and heading off to his own house for the night. He let out a long, shaky exhale once inside. “Okay, could’ve gone better, could’ve gone worse. Should’ve kept Michael in the nether while healing him, but we did it as soon as he was safe at Snowchester in a baby-proofed room so… Overall… not... as bad as it could have been? I think we did okay, I think we did okay,” Ranboo muttered to himself, trying to calm himself down. 

    Unfortunately, he didn’t learn anything about how to heal an infection, but he supposed that was typical. He didn’t ask about infections. He asked about unzombifying piglins. He did have more resources at his house than Tubbo had, though, so he went to his basement and started rummaging around in his chests to see if he could find anything of value. A little difficult with how disorganized he tended to be, but that was okay. It gave Tubbo time to respond to him after he sent him a quick message. 

    Secretly, Ranboo wanted to involve Techno and Phil; he knew that they and Tubbo had a bit of a rough history, but the two really seemed to know what they were talking about. And Tubbo had changed and Phil and Techno had changed, and Ranboo didn’t think they would try to hurt Michael. If there was a chance they could help Michael, he was considering risking it. He’d do anything for his son. But he wouldn’t say anything unless Tubbo was okay with it; after hesitating, he sent Tubbo another message. 

<Ranboo> techno and phil might know how to help with michael’s infection <Ranboo> but i don’t know how to ask without telling them about him <Ranboo> and i won’t tell them if you’re worried <Tubbo> i don’t trust techno <Tubbo> but he is a piglin also <Tubbo> and i trust you <Ranboo> i just worry that it’ll get worse if we don’t do it right <Tubbo> it’s your call big man

    Ranboo stared anxiously at the messages, thinking of his next step. He was so focused on it that he almost didn’t hear the knock on his door from upstairs. Startled, he shouted up. “Coming! I’ll be there in a second!” Giving one last glance at the conversation, he tucked his communicator away and rushed up the ladder. He opened the door and stepped outside a bit, his house being a bit too cramped to have a decent conversation. “Phil!” He exclaimed, utterly confused. “What’s up? Everything okay?” Phil was standing at the door next to a very disgruntled Technoblade, who looked like he had tried everything in his power to stop whatever conversation was about to happen and, upon failing due to Phil’s Old Man Stubbornness, decided to tag along. 

    “So, hypothetically,” Phil started, and Techno groaned. Phil sent one of his typical jokingly exasperated glances at Techno in response, and started again. “Hypothetically, if you were curing a zombie piglin, you’d probably want someone around who’s done it before to make sure everything went okay.” Ranboo stared at him for a moment, processing. “That’s true! Hypothetically, if I’d already cured a zombie piglin, I’d also want help with it to make sure nothing went wrong.” Phil now wore a knowing smirk, triumphant in the fact that his suspicions were confirmed. Techno sighed. “See, Phil, what you’ve done now is you’ve made a lot more work for us. Ranboo could’ve got it all done on his own and probably would’ve been fine, but now we gotta go help.” Phil turned to him as he spoke.

    “Techno, you don’t have to help mate, I’ve done this on my own before--” Techno interrupted him. “Nahhhh nah nah, you can do it on your own sure, but you see I am a certified actual piglin, so you’re gonna want my help regardless. It’ll be easier with me there. I’m comin’ with you.” Ranboo just stood there, baffled, trying to gather his thoughts. They were both asking way more than he initially thought and also way less. Was this a good thing? Regardless, they had offered to help and apparently nothing could convince them not to. “Th-- Thank you…?” Ranboo said, then corrected himself, “Thank you. I uh. Hoo boy. It’s a bit of a story,” he admitted nervously.

    Phil placed a hand on Ranboo’s upper arm, given his shoulder was a bit too high up for comfort. “Let’s walk and talk, then. I’m assuming this piglin you know is elsewheres, at least.” Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. Let me just, uh--” he sent a quick message to Tubbo saying they were on their way as they started walking-- “Yeah. But first uh, we already healed him. Sort of. We cured him, but he’s not healed. He’s got some really bad infections and we’re worried that some of the issues are internal. It doesn’t seem like it, but we want to be safe.” Phil’s face shifted to a look of deep concern, and mentally started making note of what they would need, as Techno looked rather thoughtfully at Ranboo, having picked up more than just the medical details that Phil was so focused on. “‘We’’? Who’s ‘we’?” Techno asked. 

    Ranboo stiffened, and then took a deep breath. Well, here went nothing. “So you know Tubbo? --Please don’t get mad at me,” Ranboo started, and Techno held his tongue. “When I first joined and Tubbo was giving me a tour of New L’Manberg, we found a. Uh. We found a baby piglin who had been zombified.” Something seemed to click for both Techno and Phil as a look of realization passed over their faces, and Ranboo prayed that it didn’t turn to anger or aggression. They had no reason to feel that way, he tried to reassure himself, but he knew their history with Tubbo.

    “We… made him a little shelter in the Nether to protect him from ghasts and wandering off. Until we’d made a baby-proofed room for him at least in Tubbo’s house. And last night we brought him to the overworld, to Tubbo’s house, and cured him.” Ranboo waited for the backlash, and while Techno looked like he had something he wanted to say, Phil spoke first. “Keeping him in the Nether in a shelter was one of the best things you could’ve done. Most of the area around the main portal, which is what I’m assuming you used, is wasteland, so it’s really dry and that would’ve protected him as well as anything can from decaying. Techno?”

    Techno, after having been given the go-ahead, was finally free to speak his mind. “Ranboo-- Ranboo I’m not really so sure about Tubbo, I mean he is one of the big government guys that hunted me down-- are you doin’ this as like, a favor to him? What’s the relationship there?” Ah. Ranboo had been prepared to talk about Michael, but this, now this was a little awkward. Instead, he decided to first pipe up to correct Techno and defend Tubbo. “Actually, that was Quackity’s idea. He kind of talked everyone else into that. I’m pretty sure at least. I think I wrote it down. He was definitely the one who organized it though. I think he was gonna do it whether we agreed or not?” Techno was very clearly making mental notes. “Interesting,” he said. Ranboo continued in his answer. “And relationship, well uh, it’s not a favor per se, it’s more like… we adopted him? Together. We adopted him together, like, as our son? And we’re married.”

    “What?” Phil squawked. Techno just blinked at Ranboo, and chose his words carefully, trying to hide his shock. Actually, if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking, it would’ve been hilarious. “Well. I won’t say anything as to your choice in spouse, but this is definitely new information.” Phil, despite his ruffled feathers in both a physical and metaphorical sense, gathered himself and decided to push the other two to do the same. Quite literally-- he put a firm hand on Techno and Ranboo both and started urging them towards the portal. Ranboo let out a startled noise that was intermingled with a confused, small laugh. “Right, well, infection’s not gonna get better on its own, we can deal with this situation later. I will talk to you and Tubbo about this,” Phil nearly scolded, and Ranboo could only nod under Phil’s determination. Techno, of course, deferred his judgement to Phil.

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Protective Baku, Soft Baku, Stargazing

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Minor content warning for (discussions of) self-esteem issues. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

“Bakugou.”

With an absent hum, Bakugou turns the page, squints, scribbles down a line in his neat, tight handwriting. A piece of black fabric separates his hand from the paper, the same wrapped around his pen, too.

Kirishima leans forward, over his own book-and-notepad combination dotted with scrawled comments and colorful post-it notes. It’s been an hour since any of it has made sense to him.

“Bakuuu. C’mon.”

A sigh, annoyed. Another line is added. Then: “The fuck d’you want?”

It takes a few seconds until the silence has stretched enough for Bakugou to look up and into Kirishima’s pleading eyes. Bakugou’s expression barely changes beyond a raised brow, unimpressed. It’s the one reserved for when Kirishima’s being especially dense – slightly more severe than muttered curses and slightly less so than that God-help-me roll of his eyes he premiered during their last study session.

Which was yesterday. Kirishima would be proud of unlocking a new Angry Bakugou Face in record time… if U.A.’s grumpiest genius wasn’t the only thing standing between him and a frankly impressive row of failed grades.

Final’s Week is brutal, even for heroes-in-training. Especially for heroes-in-training. So: Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Slap me”, Kirishima tells Bakugou, hushed in their corner of the library. “As hard as you possibly can.”

The arch of Bakugou’s brow climbs higher, utterly devastating in its wordless criticism. He says, “What”, tone Aizawa-levels of flat, and it’s not a question. It’s a command: Explain or else.

Kirishima is in no state to resist. The confession bubbles out of him in a whiny rush.

“Dude, I slept like… zero hours last night ‘cause Kami got Pokémon Colosseum – y’know, the reboot? So cool – and we kinda lost track of time. I know, I know, it was a stupid idea, I swear it was an honest mistake!”

Bakugou continues to stare as he puts down his pen and wipes his palms on the edge of his shirt. Kirishima ducks his head, hiding behind the limp strands of his hair.

“Don’t look at me like that, man. I’m seriously about two minutes from passing out here and there’s like a hundred pages of this thing I haven’t read yet, let alone understood, and oh shit Mic will hand me my ass with words tomorr–”

It all happens so quickly: Kirishima catches a blur of motion headed his way and squeaks; his skin hardens about half-way before there’s sparks and his cheek smarts, and a hissed “Motherfucker” sounds right in front of him.

The sharp slap! noise registers only after the fact, when Kirishima holds his face and Bakugou holds his hand and they both stare at each other in mutual bafflement as their skin turns red with the impact.

That moment is like glue, clear and sticky as it extends past its natural limit – then Bakugou snorts and starts to laugh, a cackling hyena-laugh that Kirishima’s never heard in full and certainly not like this, loud and unrestrained, and all hopes of holding back his own laughter is lost as he cracks up, too.

They laugh and laugh, until Kirishima’s stomach starts to cramp up and there’s the sheen of tears in Bakugou’s eyes. “Your f-fucking face”, Bakugou wheezes at some point. “Fucking bastard, you almost broke my hand! With your fucking face!”

All it does is send them into another round of hysterics.

At some point, Kirishima glimpses some of their classmates poke their head around the bookshelves secluding their study corner from the rest of the library, faces ranging from exasperated to deeply disturbed. There’s Ashido, giggling at the sight of both of them bent over and struggling to get some sort of grip, and Kaminari, who just mumbles “What the hell, guys” while straddling the line between sleep-deprived and intensely fascinated by what he’s seeing.

And hey, at least Kirishima’s really freaking awake now. There’s the problem of trying and failing to breathe without dying, his face helplessly flushed and sweating, but the world’s colors are back to being bright and sharp. Across from him, Bakugou isn’t faring much better, shaking his head and the back of his hand covering the broad smile he can’t seem to get rid of.

“Fuck you, you stupid, moronic idiot. For fuck’s sake, Kirishima.”

Kirishima rubs at his chest, the ache in his lungs starting to lessen now that he’s marginally back in control. “I’m so sorry but like”, he waves at himself and he can’t help his grin despite the stinging protest coming from his cheek. “Thanks, dude!”

“Eat a dick.” There’s no bite whatsoever in Bakugou’s grumbling as he sits back down and digs his nose into his book once more, thoroughly ignoring their flabbergasted audience.

After a moment of pantomiming what amounts to I’ll tell you later to their friends, Kirishima joins him, ready to tackle the final boss that is the English language.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥 )

yo nitro (sent 17:48)

where u at? (sent 17:48)

-

why (received 17:52)

-

why what 🤔 (sent 17:53)

OH uh to hang out? (sent 17:55)

dw dude it’s just me (sent 17:55)

-

[location] (received 18:10)

-

bakugou katsuki what are you doing in the middle of the woods??? (sending…)

NO WAY (sending…)

signal’s gone AGAIN i’m going feral (sending…)

screw it (sending…)

*

The GPS signal craps out twice more before Kirishima heaves himself onto the edge of a cliff and spots a familiar silhouette. Sheltered by a bend in the rock bed, the glow of a fire illuminates a backpack set aside, a pair of discarded hiking boots – and Bakugou, leaning against solid stone with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Took ya long enough”, he says, the lazy smirk on his lips cut in flickering shadows.

“Listen.” Kirishima wipes beads of perspiration off his temple; a spontaneous rock-climbing session by the last light of day is not what he had hoped for after hours of exhaustive quirk training. “We already have a perfectly good camp. There’s, like, leftover curry and hot springs and stuff down there.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Yeah. And a bunch of extras.”

There’s an exasperated reply on his tongue – They’re called classmates, genius. Y’know, friends? – but Kirishima knows it’s pointless to even start that debate. He snipes him with his sweaty headband instead, celebrating his own marksmanship when it hits Bakugou square in the chest with a wet thwap.

“Wha– Shitty Hair!”

“You made me climb this stupid cliff in the middle of the night. Deal with it.”

Bakugou just throws it back, the force of an explosion propelling the thing past Kirishima’s shoulder and off the mountain entirely. Kirishima watches singed white fabric disappear into the abyss, bidding it goodbye with a somber salute.

“Well, that’s lame.”

“You’re lame, fuckface.”

“Bro.”

Shaking his head, Kirishima laughs and joins him by the fire.

It’s quiet for a bit while he gets comfy and Bakugou throws a chunk of wood into the flames, sparks bursting into life immediately. This far up, the air feels… brittle, in a way, thin and cold enough Kirishima wouldn’t have been surprised to see his breath mist. The breeze ruffles the crowns of the trees around them, the rush of rustling leaves in the distance strangely soothing.

Bakugou’s gaze is lost in the night sky when he starts to speak. “Been thinking of borrowing my parents’ car and driving out here by myself. Y’know, once I got my license and shit. ‘s got some good trails, people were talking ‘bout it on those shitty hiking forums. Forums, like we’re in the fucking 2000s.”

His elbows on his knees and his head propped on his hands, Kirishima hums and looks up as well. The moon is a thin island of white in an ocean of indigo blue growing steadily darker, a myriad of stars coming out to keep her company. “Yeah?”

“Mh”, Bakugou makes around a soft breath. “Guess they’re all shit out of luck though ‘cause it’s the personal playground of pro heroes, apparently. It’s a miracle none of our idiots got fucking lost coming out here.”

‘Our idiots’, huh? Kirishima nudges his chin lower and into his palms to hide his smile. “Kinda far of a trip to make just for some hiking, isn’t it?”

A casual shrug, followed by a nod upwards. “Not for this. The lodge is the only structure for miles in any direction and even with us here, it’s got fuck all on an entire city. Get it?”

“Yeah! No light pollution, right?”

“Yup”, Bakugou confirms, popping the ‘p’. A small grin is shot Kirishima’s way, teasing rather than mocking. “What’s this, huh? Don’t tell me you paid attention in fucking physics after all.”

Kirishima breathes an offended huff, mock-hurt.

“Pshh, please. Y’know how everyone has that one niche thing they randomly obsessed over as a kid? That was me with astronomy. Back in Middle School I had like, a huge model of all the planets in my room and my favorite constellations mapped across the ceiling with those glow-in-the-dark stars. Years of useless knowledge, all stored right here.”

Kirishima’s thumb taps his forehead as he smiles at Bakugou; Bakugou’s lips pull into a smile of his own, small but there. When he turns back to the stars, Kirishima does the same, sighing wistfully.

“If Thirteen’s class were just about that I’d freaking ace it, dude. I get that I’m kinda dumb with literally anything else, but space is my jam. Did you know that–”

“You’re not.”

The train of thought Kirishima was about to gleefully jump onto screeches to a halt. “…huh?”

Bakugou frowns at him. “You’re not”, a vague wave in his general direction, “stupid or whatever.”

Perhaps the dumbfounded blinking Kirishima’s doing in response is already enough to prove Bakugou wrong on that. Still, Kirishima sits up a bit straighter, eyebrows pulling together tightly.

“Um. I appreciate you saying that, bro, but I’m only here ‘cause Aizawa decided to get in touch with his merciful side after all. Like, Cementoss totally wiped the floor with me back home. There’s no point in lying to myself about that.”

“So you’re calling me a fucking liar, is that it?”

“Huh?”

Kirishima can only watch as Bakugou’s mouth twists beyond the usual doom and gloom and into something… frustrated. Genuinely annoyed. An iron weight settles in Kirishima’s gut, heavy and hard to ignore. “I didn’t– Look, man, can we not fight over this? I’m just saying I wanna face my mistakes and do better, that’s all.”

“Then say it!”

There’s a severity to the words that catches Kirishima off guard. Bakugou is staring him down with eyes so intense they possess their own gravitational pull, closer to black than crimson in the fire’s light–

Kirishima likes to think he knows Bakugou, at least a little. What makes him tick, what makes him angry – because there is a reason and a rhyme to his anger, a pattern to the things that set him off that Kirishima has yet to properly figure out. It’s just that Kirishima isn’t usually one of those things, not anymore.

“You lost me, Baku”, he admits, quietly, after a beat or two of tense silence. “What do you mean?”

Bakugou sighs, a harsh noise between them. The deep breath afterwards is new, however, a sharp inhale followed by a calmer exhale before Bakugou points at him, a wordless listen up.

“Just– Okay. You fucked up and wanna learn from it? Cool, fucking say that then. Not some bullshit about being too dumb to do shit ‘cause you’re not. Fuck right off with that.”

Mouth opening, Kirishima is stopped by a flurry of firecracker sparks and a terse growl of “Shut the hell up, I’m not done.” Finally, Bakugou’s look snaps elsewhere, one sock-clad foot kicking at a loose rock in clear irritation.

“Studying isn’t your strength, who gives a fuck? You got into U.A. top-fucking-two, you’re one of the only capable fuckers around and if you seriously think you don’t deserve to be here because Cementoss got lucky one fucking time then you got another thing coming.”

Kirishima sits there in a state of mild shock until Bakugou huffs and glares at him again. The threat behind it is ridiculously empty considering the impromptu speech he just gave and holy shit, Bakugou Katsuki is praising him. Kirishima Eijirou.

He might actually cry.

“What? You’re competition, bitch, so don’t make me a fucking liar by pretending otherwise.”

Scratch that, tears are definitely part of the picture now.

Wet-rimmed eyes and a quiet sniff, that’s as far as Kirishima gets before Bakugou’s expression suddenly falls, crestfallen to an almost comical degree. Kirishima does laugh then, a watery little chuckle that doesn’t seem to make things much better, either.

“Sorry, just… Damn Nitro, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. You really think so?”

And okay, yup, that’s a real glare, this time. Bakugou throws up his hands. “You’re so– Urgh. Did I fucking stutter?”

Kirishima rubs the moisture out of his eyes and smiles. “Nope.” Faint embarrassment heats his cheeks; he focuses on the warmth curling in his chest instead, glowing bright and comforting like the embers at their feet and the stars above.

“Good”, Bakugou mutters.

More wood is tossed into the fire and rekindled with red-hot palms. Scooting closer, Kirishima holds out his hands and hums happily as it chases away the ever-cooling temperatures. They can’t stay up here forever – Aizawa will have his hide for sure if he doesn’t show up to the remedial course tonight – yet Kirishima figures they have a few more minutes.

Bakugou goes right back to his earlier sprawl, unaffected by the cold: arms crossed, eyes on the sky like he can’t get enough of the sight. Kirishima thinks of glow-in-the-dark stickers, faded over time. Quietly, he wonders which constellation is Bakugou’s favorite.

“Kiri.”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Shoulders relaxed, voice even, Bakugou says: “Tell me something. About space, I mean.”

As complicated as being friends with Bakugou can get, it can be so, so easy, too. Just a while longer, Kirishima decides as he settles in next to his best friend and starts talking.

>>Chapter 4

[tipsydipsydo]

Mustang v8 [ F | M ]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.1k

Rating: 16+

Genre: smuttish Crack + Fluff

Warnings: kinda an Engine-sound Kink (?); awkward Situations; Hornieness for a car-driving Hoseok; lowkey sexual Tension; Mentions of Car Sex

A/N: I wrote that some time ago for my bestie who has a thing for the engine-sound of Mustangs... and really guys, car-driving Hobi is a kink itself! 😭😔✊🏻💕

Synopsis: You kinda have a thing for the sound of the engine of a Mustang. How bad that Hoseok's new car is a Mustang and that your Boyfriend looks super hot while driving!

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work! 

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Your heart is bursting with excitement and nervousness when you slide into the passenger seat of the new, incredibly luxurious Ford Mustang 5.0 v8. The leather under your fingers feels very soft, it must be high quality suede. You look around in this car, this sinfully expensive interior let a completely overwhelmed and yet at the same time an enthusiastically delighted smile grow on your lips.

Every now and then you have to shake your head a little bit, completely stunned what Hoseok has allowed himself here again here. The entire cab is equipped with LED lights, which can be adjusted in any color.

This is a Mustang. A Mustang v8. If only Hobi knew... What Mustangs from this series do to you. You do not want to think about it any further, even hope that the sound of the engine is not so... good.

You bit restlessly, yeah, really chew on your lower lip, buckle yourself with trembling and sweaty hands up. Looking secretly again and again to Hoseok, who has settled behind the wheel of his new toy with a childlike self-satisfied smile on his lips.

A proud smirk manifests on his lips at the moment when the fingers of his left hand are wrapping around the steering wheel. Thoughtfully he turns the ignition key and lets the engine howl. Oh Boy.

Of course, it’s nothing to the good old, original classic Oldtimers, but this one also has this unmistakable significant sound that distinguishes the Mustang v8 Series.

"Shall we go for a quick spin?", he asked you with a mischievous smile, as if he knew exactly what this car is doing to you. You avoid his seemingly omniscient gaze flustered and nod quickly with a quiet "Y-Yeah".

Hobi laughs amused, but takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, turns your face gently but firmly to himself.

God, again is this "Charming & Sexy Boy"expression is on his face, with which he can get everything and everyone around. Gently he presses a loving kiss on your mouth and pulls playfully at your lower lip before releasing your lips again.

A cheeky expression lies on his features. Especially in this unfortunate Situation, two irresistible forces act on you, which drive you crazy. How on earth shall you ride this or more generally... survive all future rides in this goddamn car?!

Hoseok lets his sunglasses wander onto his nose and turns into the first gear to start, but not without looking over the edge of the sunglasses at you and provocatively twitching his right eyebrow. "Ready?"

But he no longer waits for your answer, promptly starts up and skillfully switches up the gears, as if he had just climbed into this sports car for the innumerable times.

You can't help it but constantly throw Hobi hopefully the most inconspicuous sideviews as possible. How can you look so incredibly sexy if you only concentrate on road traffic.

This is complete Brainfuck, without Hoseok even being remotely aware of what that does to you! Maybe it's just the fascination of seeing his face so serious and focused...?

Quickly you turn your gaze away, you feel caught. You squeeze your thighs together, Hobi and this car in combination are deadly for any of your innocent thoughts.

Soon, your mind will turn to one thing only, which will make you unstable and will steal your sane mind.

You rest your right elbow on the narrow protruding window sill and rest your chin on your fist. You stare intently out the window for the next five minutes.

Every now and then you look at yourself for a short moment in the side mirror, but quickly you turn your gaze away from yourself.

You try to get your mind and your indecent thoughts somehow under control, but the more you think about how to hide away those certain thoughts, the more you fantasize about it. Oh, what the fuck is this shit?!

In your abdomen it this unbearable ball of desire, you begin to tremble and to close your eyes. It’s not a painful cramp... rather an bittersweet way.

Everthing in your lower parts pulls together and vehemently demands certain things. Certain human activity. Your head only perceives two basic things. The Sound of that fucking car and the fact that your fucking boyfriend is driving that fucking car.

Hoseok noticed that you’re stiff and tense in your seat since he started the engine of his car. The moment when you want to wave it off for the third time, he quickly slows down and stops at the side of the road.

"Y/N? Everything alright? It doesn’t seems like that everything is okay!", he says gently and understandingly, but with this particular undertone, that he would not tolerate any further excuses.

You swallow hard and drop your eyes to the nervous fingers in your lap, don’t rally know how to explain this to him in an understandable way.

"You know... I have certain preferences for Mustangs. Especially for those from the v8 Series. So, well... In short: the Sound of the Engine turns me on. In a kinda... exiting...sexual way?”

Silence enters the car for a moment, you still look down at your hands, now chewing aggressively on your lower lip. The engine is still running. The insides of your thighs feel damp. At some point you shyly squint with uncertainty to Hoseok, who doesn't seem to know what to say.

"Did I understand correctly that you... are horny?", he asks you in a somewhat uncertain voice, looks at you and turns your face to himself as well. You dodge with an highly embarrassed smile.

"Yeah."

His lips are caressed by a cheeky smirk, bending over to you, getting closer and closer until he stops just before your lips.

"Maybe also because I'm the one driving this car?", he whispers with a teasing undertone and kisses your right corner of your mouth.

"Definitely," you sigh into his caresses and look shyly into his eyes. He smirks at you. In a very  dirty manner.

"Come into my lap, Baby~" he purrs. With a jerk, he pushed his seat back and snapped and let the backrest fall back to the last step so that the steering wheel is not in your way.

"I'd be glad to help you with your problem, Babygirl.", he growls before kissing you hungrily.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.29

Keith had stared at the back of Lance’s head until he’d gone cross eyed. He couldn’t sleep. Tension kept his body stiff, because his dumb arse had actually fallen asleep. For a few hours at least, he’d slept... while spooned up behind a sick vampire. He was sure in some guide book out there, there’d be very pointed instructions not to do that. His head was swimming, and shamefully, his crotch was squarely up against Lance’s arse. Lance’s, not as bony as it should be, arse. The heat beneath the sheets was stifling, the sweet smell coming from Lance was almost too much. He feared moving and waking Lance, especially when certain parts of his body seemed more ”up” than they should be.

This was all Allura’s fault for putting ideas in his head. Lance’s grip on his wrist had slipped to the vampire holding his hand as they’d slept. Way, way, waaaaaay, too intimately. He liked Lance enough... maybe enough that if they’d met under totally different circumstances, and way drunker than they currently were, he might have... Nope. Nope. Noooo. No way. Like fuck... what the fuck was he thinking?!?! He couldn’t blame Allura’s tea for this, he hadn’t drunk it. So why was he... why was he... hard? And why did he wish Lance would roll over and kiss him? He didn’t like Lance. He absolutely didn’t like him. He didn’t like his dumb hair, or his weird sense of humour. He didn’t like the way he smiled. Nope. He didn’t. So why was it that there was a fire in his belly? Why did he want to press up against Lance more? Lance would be mortified. Horrified. He’d probably murder him in his sleep then dump his body where no one would ever find him. He was a fucking vampire, for crying out loud! His sworn enemy.

Groaning in his sleep, Keith was sure he’d been caught. Holding his breath, Lance moved, Keith’s hand released as Lance rolled over. Lance’s brilliant blue eyes were open, but unseeing. His teeth bared as Keith tried to pretend he was part of the bedding and not shitting himself a little at the way Lance was looking at him. Shit. Shit. Shit...

“L-Lance?”

That was the wrong move. Lance growling as Keith found himself suddenly trapped beneath him. The vampire having moved to straddle him too fast for his eyes to keep up. Grabbed by the wrists, Lance pinned his hands above his head

“Lance, this isn’t funny... ngmhmm”

Lance’s lips pressed against his. No hesitation in what he wanted. His teeth dragging across Keith’s lips, as he eagerly kissed him. Rolling his hips, Lance whined into the kiss, as Keith laid still, brain short circuiting. He felt giddy, heart pounding as he felt himself kissing Lance back. Shit... he... what was he doing? Keith’s eyes slid half shut, Lance breaking from kissing to move his hands so he could pin Keith both of Keith’s with one of his. With a hand free, Lance ran his fingers down Keith’s shirt, almost clumsily Lance’s lips met Keith’s shoulder, that wandering hand slipping up his shirt to clutch at his side. Lance’s teeth scratched his lip, Keith tasting blood in the kiss. He should have been scared, instead he was confused.

“Lance...”

As fast as Lance had pinned him down, the vampire was off him and at the end of the bed. Eyes wide as he rose a hand to his bloodied lips, shaking so hard that Keith confusion morphed instantly to worry

“Lance?”

“I...”

“Lance...”

Sitting up, Keith reached towards Lance, Lance flinching back as he covered his face with his hands

“Don’t look at me!”

“Lance...”

“Don’t look at me!”

“Lance, it’s okay. You didn’t mean...”

“I hurt you!”

Lance sounded devastated

“I’m fine”

His lips stung where Lance’s fangs had grazed them, but that was all that’d happened

“I hurt you! I don’t know what happened! Don’t look at me... don’t look at me...”

“Hey, you didn’t mean to”

“I hurt you! I made you bleed! I can smell it... your heart... you’re scared”

Keith was not scared. Confused, still slightly horny, but scared

“I’m not scared. Calm down already, you’re blowing this out of proportion”

“I bit you!”

No fucking shit

“I noticed! Calm down already!”

“But I’m a monster!”

“Oh, boo hoo. You’re an idiot, that’s what you are! You’re the one who fucking kissed me”

Lance lowered his hands, one hand moving to his lap as his other hand wiped at his mouth

“I did what, now?”

“You rolled over and kissed me”

The middle bit would only confuse and upset Lance

“Ew! Not only do I have your gross blood on my lips, you kissed me!”

“You kissed me!”

“Ugh! Why were you in bed with me?!”

“Because you pulled me in next to you!”

Lance blushed hard red, though that may have been because his cheeks were already flushed with fever

“No I didn’t!”

“Did too!”

“Then why were you still there!?”

“Because you were holding my hand!”

“What?!”

“You were holding my hand! Why are we yelling at each other?!”

“Because I tried to violate you!”

“Please, you’d be so lucky!”

“It was a dream! I didn’t mean to fuck you!”

Keith jerked back with a shake of his head. What now? When did that happen? He didn’t feel like anything had been up there...

“You didn’t. God, you’re overreacting”

At least he’d stopped yelling

“Then why did I kiss you?”

“Because you’ve got a fever, you idiot”

“I can’t believe I kissed you!”

“Stop yelling at me! And stop rubbing at your lip, you’re going to make it bleed”

Lance groaned, he still seemed ready to start crying at any moment of Keith didn’t handle this carefully. The vampire sadly mumbling

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine. I’m fine and you’re sick. Do you still feel sick?”

“I feel like someone poured lava in my stomach. I’m all itchy and it’s cold”

“Because you’re sweaty, and you’re sick”

“I don’t like it...”

Keith didn’t like Lance looking so hurt and disgusted with himself. It was what it was. Coran said fresh blood was good, Lance wasn’t feeling well, so if he drank fresh blood he’d have to heal faster. Then things could go back to normal, like they were before he’d popped a boner against Lance’s arse and Lance had kissed him

“Most people don’t like feeling sick. Now, I’m going to hold my arm out, and you’re going to feed off me”

Bending his arm at elbow, Keith waited. Lance wrinkled his nose up

“Nah... I’ll pass”

“What? Why?”

“Your blood tastes gross”

“That’s because it’s fresh”

“I don’t want to”

“Coran said...”

“Coran shouldn’t have said! I don’t want to drink your blood! Your mouth tastes gross too. Do you not brush your teeth? What is that? Ugh... it tastes like emo...”

“I brush my teeth!”

“Well it’s not minty fresh in there! My first kiss and it was with you!”

Lance had to be lying... no way was that his first kiss! Keith feeling flustered at the thought... it’d been an okay kiss, plenty of enthusiasm but a bit too much in the teeth department

“Yeah, well, emo isn’t even a taste!”

“It is to! Ugh, I’m going to brush my teeth!”

“I don’t...”

Keith barely got two words out before Lance was falling off the bed. Staring down at him, he supposed Lance didn’t find it as funny as he did

“Do you want some help?”

“From you? I think not... my first kiss... gone like that! I feel violated!”

“You’re the one who kissed me! How do you think I feel?”

“Judging from the way “Little Keith” was looking at me, I’d say you feel better about it than I do!”

Keith grabbed a pillow to cover his crotch

“That was your fault!”

“So what?! You want to kiss me?! Is that it?”

“I wouldn’t say no!”

Both of them gaped at each other, Keith groaning before dropping his head in embarrassment

“I wouldn’t say no either...”

Hang on...

“What?”

“I said, “I wouldn’t say no either“! I don’t know what’s happening to me! You’re a big dumb hunter... this isn’t supposed to be happening!”

“Yeah, well, you’re the enemy!”

“And you’re my enemy! Just wait until I can stand, I’m going to fight you so fucking hard!”

“Good! Because I’m going to kick your arse for making me care about you!”

“And I’m going to kick your arse for waving your nasty arse blood!”

“My nasty arse blood is better than blood from a bag!”

“How would you know!”

“Because you made me drink it! God! What are you doing to me?!”

“Nothing! I’m sick!”

“No shit! This yelling won’t be making you feel any better either!”

“It isn’t!”

Lance scrunched his face up like he was trying to take a big shit

“Now what are you doing?!”

“I’m turning into a bat and running the fuck away!”

“Bats fly, dumbarse”

Lance threw his hands in the air

“I give up! You’re impossible!”

Him?! He wasn’t impossible! He was the sane and normal one!

“If anyone here’s impossible, it’s you! Drink the blood”

“No!”

“Lance!”

“I don’t want to!”

Why was he being so stubborn?! If fresh blood helped, he should be all over that shit... Great. Now he was worrying that his blood had something wrong with it

“Drink my blood!”

Lance huffed, dropping his arms and crossing them

“Don’t wanna”

“Lance”

“Don’t wanna and you can’t make me!”

“What are you, like three?”

“So what if I am!”

It was Keith’s turn to throw his hands in the air

“I’m trying to help you!”

“And I don’t know what to do! I don’t wanna hurt you!”

“You’re hurting head. How are you stubborn?”

“Because you’re going to leave and I’m back on blood bags again!”

Lance was being impossible. Keith was honestly tired of yelling. His throat hurt, his head hurt, and he kept insisting that Lance drink his blood... He’d lost his damn mind. If Lance was going to be this damn stubborn, then he could have a stupid blood bag and suffer through his stomach cramps.

Climbing off the spare bed, Keith stepped up by Lance, putting his hands under the vampire’s armpits, he hauled him up and back onto the edge of the bed

“I’m going to get you a bag, and you’re going to drink all of it”

“You’re not my dad”

Lance was definitely not right in the head. He was an idiot. An idiot crumpet!

“No, I’m just the guy trying to help your stubborn arse. You’re so lucky you’re already dead, or I’d be hitting you over the head with a shovel”

“As if I could forget. Now go away, I wanna wallow in peace”

“You can wallow over how you’re ruining my sanity. Your body is changing dumbarse. You’re all weird inside because you’re body is preparing to make babies. Coran said fresh blood had more life in it, meaning it’s better. Allura said apparently we’re a thing a now. I don’t even know what’s going. Something is wrong with my heart. And you won’t drink my blood! I’ve had a long enough day, so wallow quietly”

Running a hand through his hair his hair, Keith didn’t know what to do with the mess of the vampire in front him

“Fine. Whatever. Thank you”

“You're welcome”

Keith didn’t know what he was being thanked for, so he gave up the fight. Shiro better bloody be back soon, or he was going to find them both rocking back and forth on the floor because they’d driven each other crazy.

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 14) - Original Fiction

AN: Ok, so we’re approaching the meat of this novel quickly. The following chapters should be fun to write :3c This is going to be a long series. So, hope my readers are enjoying themselves, too~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 14:

The tunnels deep underground wasn’t as dark the second time around. That was entirely due to the fact that they had powerful high-beam torches with them. But even with a team of Elites acting as escort, Eishirou was still nervous about their surroundings. It wasn’t that much of a surprise. He just didn’t want to encounter one of those large, reckless centipede ShadowDwellers again.

Battling against it in the middle of a large field was bad enough. How difficult would be in these small, cramped, confined tunnels?

He honestly didn’t want to imagine it.

The halls they moved through were that of the ancient tunnelling. The path unilinear. Often curling from left to right, the ground beneath their feet would dip up and down at random intervals. Old, disused torches lined the walls.

And they weren’t the only things. Ancient cave paintings and carvings were etched in other side of the tunnels. The deeper they moved through the passageways, the more prevalent the paintings on the walls became.

There was one in particular that caught Eishirou’s attention. Enough to pull him to a stop to stare. It was similar to the one he came across before. However, the figures painted purposely as dark and black as possible were in the form of large, hulking humanoids. Yet, they appeared to move on all fours. They towered over the dark brown human figures who held spears and torches of fire as they battled the creatures.

Those creatures…they looked like the ones he saw from his recordings.

Both of them. But it was the one attached to the Elite team that had him the most concerned. Could a ShadowDweller they’ve yet to encounter have followed them?

“Eishirou?” Zayne asked him, worry in his tone.

Eishirou decided not to divulge his concerns with Zayne in the bleakness of the tunnels. “Sorry, got distracted. Just examining a painting. I’ll muse more on it later,” he said as he used his tablet to take a photo.

He couldn’t help but stay close to Zayne as they continued on their way, though. The more he thought about that recording with that humanoid shadowy figure scurrying after the Elite team, the more unnerved he became. There was something undeniably creepy about a humanoid figure with long spindly legs walking on all fours.

No, scurrying on all fours.

A low glow of light in the distance caught everyone’s attention. And they all tensed and fell silent in preparation for a possible confrontation. They couldn’t hear anything, though. Eishirou was fairly confident that a ShadowDweller wasn’t the origin of the light. ShadowDwellers were darker than shadows, so they were incapable of producing light.

He had to remind himself that his preconceptions were from their current research. And as a researcher, he was taught to never say never.

Zayne instinctively grabbed Eishirou by the elbow and pulled him toward him as they moved as a group toward the distant glow.

Eishirou was incredibly surprised to find a small side room through a crack in the wall. And it was filled with low, glowing lights. And those lights originated from patches of mushrooms and fungi. They glowed with neon green and blue lights. Shimmering, but steady. So bright that they didn’t need torches to look around the small room like area.

“Glowing mushrooms?” Eishirou was surprised, but excited by the find nevertheless. After all, he had only read about such things!

“They look pretty,” Rinka admitted with genuine but restrained awe in her voice.

“They also look toxic,” Zayne added, undeniably cautious.

Eishirou couldn’t deny either observation. “They certainly do.”

He slipped out of Zayne’s grip to take a step forward. Toward the closest grouping of mushrooms on the ground. Blue and green mingled together. The lights were gentle, reminding him of fairy lights that would be hung during Christmas or other celebrations.

He crouched down, making sure that he didn’t touch the mysterious discovery. “Luminescent fungi. I’ve never seen one in person before.”

He obviously needed to take a photo and check it against the database. Jacob would be interested to see pictures of them, too. So, he took a couple of pictures. And took another of the whole room.

“Hm,” he murmured as he tapped at the screen of his tablet. “No matches. I’ll need to take a sample.”

“Is that really necessary?”

Eishirou stifled a sigh at the bored, yet exasperated voice of none other than Tatsu.

“We are on a research investigation, Tatsu,” Ernesta chided quickly.

Eishirou didn’t hear a response, but he could feel a pair of eyes on the back of his head. He could also feel some of the tension that was in the air. He couldn’t help but wonder if Tatsu was simply agitated that he was on such a lowly mission. Or if he was actually worried about that other Elite team. He was the one to discover that badge, after all. And he appeared to be a lot more irritated than usual.

But he may just be looking too deep into it.

“This will only take a second,” Eishirou promised as he pulled his bag to his side and rifled through it. Luckily, he had picked up a couple of specimen jars with him. Not to mention some gloves. He couldn’t be too careful. Fungi was notorious toxic in general.

Picking out two of the largest mushrooms that could fit in the specimen jars, Eishirou carefully dug at the ground near the roots and pulled out the entire plant system. With both mushrooms chosen, he carefully set the two into their separate jars. He then set them in a separate pocket in his bag.

“There, done.”

Eishirou pulled out his tablet and instinctively moved toward Zayne as they all moved as a group out of the small room. He concentrated on jotting notes down on his tablet as Zayne guided him through the tunnels with a hand on his elbow. He also took a moment to check their map and quickly noted that they had already moved at least a kilometre. Not in a straight line, but they had travelled some distance and the paths of the tunnel spiral outwards.

He hoped that they would reach an exit soon. They had been fortunate not to encounter a ShadowDweller so far. He could only hope that their luck held out until they at least found a way outside.

As they rounded a slight bend in the path, they were greeted with a dim light in the distance. It was different from the lucent glow of the mushrooms. It was the low light one would associate with the sun. The air felt fresher, too.

“There’s a light ahead. Be ready,” Ernesta commanded.

They fell into silence once more as they walked toward the light. The path began on an incline as they moved, giving the sense that they were indeed heading toward an exit of some kind. Whether or not it they would be able to use the exit was still up in the air.

It took them a moment or two to allow their eyes to adjust to the bright light as they stepped out onto a rocky landing.

After the glare had faded from his eyes, Eishirou scanned their new environment. They appeared to be in a natural bowl, surrounding in steep mountain cliffs. The foliage was as green and lush as the forest Flutterlight Forest. But there was a slight difference; there was a tall white building in the distance. He didn’t recognise it, but it did feel familiar.

“Ah, it’s the lighthouse! I saw that in a recording.”

Of course, it looked slightly different to the one he saw in a recording. It was a mosaic in his vision. But it was still a lighthouse. And he was certain that it was important. It was sure to led to an interesting discovery.

The members of Elite Team 3, however, obviously didn’t feel the same.

“I can’t see the other Elite team,” Tatsu stated, his tone as brisk and terse as ever.

“No, neither can I,” Ernesta replied.

It was extremely obvious where their thoughts were centred on. Not that he could blame them. Elite teams all knew each other. Just like researchers did. If a researcher was lost somewhere, Eishirou would be worried, too.

“You guys should go search for that other Elite Team,” Eishirou suggested firmly.

Ernesta turned to him with a surprised expression on her face. That soon dissipated into a placid expression, though it was obviously a forced one. “…We have our own assignment.”

Yes, he understood that. But it didn’t sit right with him forcing them to do something they weren’t entirely focused on.

Eishirou sighed at gave the Elite leader a pointed gaze. “Look. I’m going to be busy inspecting the lighthouse and surrounding area. If you want to search for your fellow Elites, it’s fine. I know you’re worried.”

Zayne took a step forward and clasped his hand on Eishirou’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with him while the rest of you look.”

Eishirou turned to look at Zayne and nodded his head in acceptance. Yeah, he found that perfectly fine with him. Zayne actually seemed interested in his research, so he was likely interested in learning more about the lighthouse, too. Especially after Eishirou had told him about the recording he had witnessed.

Ernesta didn’t appear all that convinced, though. Torn, maybe, but certainly not wholly convinced. She had been given the task of escorting Eishirou through the Flutterlight Forest at the request from Jacob himself. She was dedicated to her role.

But as an Elite, it was understandable that she was worried about her fellow Elite Teams.

It wasn’t like she was going to abandon him. They lighthouse stood out like a sore thumb. And unlike their previous dealings with the lush forest, this particular area had an open canopy. Allowing for Elites to use their mana wings at will.

“Jacob would understand,” Eishirou added. “In fact, I’m sure he would be far more insistent that I am right now.”

That seemed to helped Ernesta to make her decision. And maybe even put her mind at ease. “We’ll escort you to the lighthouse and secure the area first. After that, we’ll conduct a surveillance of the area further.”

Ok, that sounded reasonable.

Eishirou turned his attention back to the view before them, this time intent on searching for the best possible route to the lighthouse. The foliage of the woods was as dense as ever, but there was a natural trail along the steep cliffs. And it led straight to the tall white structure.

Ernesta took the lead once more as they moved in single file along the path. And they walked in silence, waiting for a noise or disturbance in the environment. Be it ShadowDweller or the other Elite Team.

Thankfully, their trek to reach the base of the lighthouse was an uneventful one.

The lighthouse itself was in a small peak that overlook the basin. With stone steps spiralling toward it. The steps were covered in moss, and broken in some instances. But appeared sturdy enough to be scaled.

Ernesta turned to regard both Eishirou and Zayne with a pointed look. “Do not wander from this area without alerting me.”

“Easy, I’ll be sure to keep him safe,” Zayne replied, both dismissive and reassurance. “I’ve done it before.”

He had. And, honestly, Eishirou couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else to keep him safe.

A placid smile finally appeared on Ernesta’s lips. “Yes, that is true. Very well. We will return, soon.”

The four Elites called out their mana wings and took into the air in order to get a higher perspective of the area. Eishirou saw them off, hoping that they would find some kind of evidence that the other Elite Team had somehow made their way to this area, too.

If not, they were still somewhere in those tunnels.

And he certainly hoped they weren’t trapped or lost somewhere in there.

“Right, let’s see what this lighthouse has for us,” Zayne said as he turned toward Eishirou.

Eishirou nodded. “Right.”

They both turned to face the lighthouse. It was a relatively simple structure. A tall building. It appeared about five stories tall. And made from white stone. Not paint as there was no obvious peeling. Though, it was most certainly had patches of moss dotted across the outer façade.

Oddly, though, there was no windows. He couldn’t see the very top of the structure, but as they walked along the stone pathway that spiral along the peak toward the white structure, he couldn’t see a port or window anywhere.

“It’s the one from the runestone recording?” Zayne asked

“Well, the recording I saw was that of a mosaic, but I’m certain that the mosaic was actually pointing to this structure,” Eishirou replied. “Besides, it’s in the middle of a forest. It’s suspicious, right?”

Zayne stifled a snort. “No kidding.”

After a few more minutes, they finally reached the top of the stairs. They led to a small grassy landing that, in turn, led to the entrance of the lighthouse. However, the door to the structure was not what he had been expecting; the door was large, set within an archway made from old grey stone. The door itself appeared to be made from old stone, too.

“That’s quite the door,” Zayne commented sarcastically.

It most certainly was.

Eishirou quickly approached the door while Zayne moved at a more cautious pace behind him.

There was nothing to be seen on the door. Just a small hole within the very centre. It was likely they keyhole. Though, it wasn’t shaped as normal key, it was quite obvious that something indeed fitted in that slot.

So, since that slot was there…

“It’s likely locked,” Eishirou mused aloud.

“Not jammed?” Zayne questioned as he stepped forward. “Let me try opening it anyway.”

Zayne placed his hands upon the door and steadied himself. He tried pushing it in first before attempting to shift it to the left. There was suddenly the distinct sound of rock grounding against rock.

Had he managed to open it after all?

Unfortunately, the door moved no further.

And Zayne pulled back. “It moved a little. But something is preventing me from moving it further,” he explained.

“I’m going to assume there’s a locking mechanism here,” Eishirou continued to muse aloud. He walked closer to the door and laid his hands upon it and closed his eyes. He soon furrowed his brow. “There’s…also a bit of mana, yet…I can’t access it.”

“Can’t access it?”

“Y-yeah,” Eishirou stuttered, both unnerved and puzzled as he pulled his hands back and opened his eyes. “There’s…something blocking me from accessing it.”

He could feel the mana. It was there. So close. And yet…there was something stopping him from reaching out to it.

“That happened before?” Zayne asked.

Eishirou shook his head, still obviously unnerved. “No…”

It was just…really unnerving to be able to feel something, but unable to reach out to it. Though, it could be because the door itself wasn’t complete. The key or item that fitted into that slot might be the very thing needed for him to reach that mana.

Yeah, that made sense.

Well, he supposed there was little he could do about it. Getting unnerved wasn’t helping anyone. The door might not allow him to access the mana stored within at the moment, but maybe something else would?

“Hm,” Eishirou murmured as he held his chin in thought. “If there is a locking mechanism, then there’s got to be a hint of how to open it around here somewhere. If I can find a runestone or mosaic, then maybe I can pull another recording.”

“You’re reading ability is quite useful,” Zayne unexpectedly commented, causing Eishirou to turn toward him with a subtle expression of surprise. “Can you do that with any object?”

Eishirou shook his head. “No, just objects with mana of intent. Basically, someone infusing mana into an object with the sole purpose to document something.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “W-well, that used to be the way. But I was able to get a recording from that badge. From the badge’s point of view.”

He couldn’t really imagine the owner of said badge purposely infusing mana into their badge just to show something from the object’s point of view. Maybe it was completely unintentional. But that would mean…the owner of said badge had a spike of powerful emotion.

…Like fear.

“From the badge’s point of view?” Zayne questioned with a curious tilt of his head.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Eishirou shifted on his feet as he took a moment to find a way to explain further. “From the point of view of the badge as it laid on the floor. That was honestly a first for me. As is that blockage. I wonder if that has something to do with me or…”

“It might just need a key,” Zayne interrupted.

Eishirou turned his face toward Zayne and gave a small smile. “I think so, too.”

A loud explosion in the distance suddenly erupted and echoed around the basin. It was so loud and sudden that it caused Eishirou to jump. And for Zayne to immediately pull out his mana holsters, move to stand in front of Eishirou in a defensive stance, and attempt to search for the source of the sound.

He soon narrowed in on an area within the forest where birds fluttered into the air in a giant flock. And right behind them was a plume of smoke.

“That sounded like Tatsu,” Zayne murmured. “They must have encountered a ShadowDweller.”

“Wh-what should we do?” Eishirou asked as another explosion was heard.

Before Zayne could answer, Eishirou himself witnessed four figures dart into the sky. Their mana wings and weapons fully materialised. They were quite a distance away, but Eishirou knew that they were the other members of Team 3.

And they were rapidly heading in their direction!

[blissfulalchemist]

"You took all the pillows so I'm using you as one." + "You are crushing me right now." Red Brooks Bros ♥

Alright here’s a little Brains and Disaster verse for you. Please enjoy your child of a son!

Life still felt out of the ordinary even a year after Eden’s Gate fell apart. There was still a lot to clean up, most of the mess from their savior, and people that needed recovery from that time. The cold winter months didn’t help much with trying to finish putting the pieces all back together, but it did offer a chance for life to feel normal again. Today was one such occasion as Cat waited for the popcorn to start cooking, forced to make it the old fashioned way as no one liked the synthetic butter and it was no longer a good option for her to eat it at this point. It was movie night and nothing was going to stop that from happening even though it was only going to be two of them tonight. 

The blast of cold air hit Cat as Wes stomped through the door brushing the snow off of his coat, goosebumps forming on her exposed skin in the tank top. “Take your shoes off at the door this time Wes,” she called out, finally hearing the popping of kernels. 

Wes came into the kitchen shaking the melting flakes from his hair, a few sizzling as they hit the pot, “Just us tonight?” She nodded giving a light shake of the pot, Cat put her hands warding off some of the droplets that came for her, “Can I pick tonight then?”

“We have time for two,” she looked up to the window seeing the big flakes from the sky, “Maybe more if the snow keeps up like this.”

Wes leaned against the counter picking up one of the cocktail straws they kept around for him, “Might be best. Don’t think John and Raf’ll make it back from where they’re at.” He placed the end of the straw in his mouth.

She shifted the flannel pajama pants letting the folding to shorten them loose, “So long as they’re safe that’s all that matters,” the popping slowed as Wes made his way to the shelves of movies. “How much butter? Or do you just want plain this time?”

“Don’t matter much with the butter,” he looked through movies intently, “Just watch the salt. You made it too salty last time.”

She laughed, “If I remember correctly it was just fine and you asked for more.”

“Nah,” he pulled a few options from the shelf, “that didn’t happen. It was all you.”

She rolled her eyes grabbing the bowls and lemon juice, “Come on I got the bedroom all ready for us.”

“Thought that was a one time thing,” he teased, Cat bumping him into the wall. He gave a small laugh rubbing his upper arm, “Ow.”

“Don’t think I’m not afraid to tarnish your share of popcorn if you keep it up,” she warned, placing the bowls on the nightstand sitting on the edge of the bed. Wes jumped up, fanning the movies out, “You picked out some good ones tonight, Wes.”

He pointed to an Alfred Hitchcock movie, “Say we start with this one,” his finger moving to a musical, “then this one cause know you like it,” he pointed to the last movie, a slice of life romance movie, “End the night with this one.”

She picked up the last one, raising an eyebrow, “Why this one? You didn’t seem to enjoy it last time we watched it.”

He gave a shrug, “With ever’thing seems nice to see normal.”

She smiled nodding, “Then I approve of this plan,” she got up getting the DVD player set up with the movies, still seemed like such a unique find of their six disc player, while Wes got himself settled to sit against the headboard. Cat joined him creating a cushion system with the pillows, one she could use to eventually lie on her side as it always seemed to happen by the end of the first movie. Cat took the bottle of lemon juice, spraying it on her bowl of popcorn, Wes rolling his eyes shaking his head, “Wes, you know this is my thing. You need to stop being so surprised.”

“Not surprised, just weird still.”

She took a bite, “I’d say don’t knock till you try it but it’s even better with the extra butter microwave popcorn.” 

He looked up in thought, “You haven’t been buyin’ much of it lately.”

She slowed her bites, “They say it's bad for you,” she shrugged, “So figure might as well stop eating it you know.”

He looked at her eyes narrowed, looking for any signs of what she was hiding, “You’re the most unhealthy of all us,” he hummed, “Don’t think that’s it.”

“You’re one to talk about being unhealthy,” she poked his stomach, “You hardly eat. If not for us you’d be nothing but bones. Not eating is just as unhealthy.”

He put his hands up in defeat, “Geez calm down. Just an observation is all.” He turned to face the movie again, eyes straying in her direction every now and then. Cat seemed to be her normal self but there was just something a bit different with her, especially with how she answered the last question she asked. Cat deflected like she did when she didn’t want to tell the truth and a lie would be too hard to make believable. By the time the movie was over, Wes got up taking their bowls with him, “Gettin’ a beer. You want some?”

She shook her head, “No. But the ice cream in the freezer would be amazing.”

“Any kind of drink,” he asked again, covering all his bases with her.

“No alcohol for me tonight Wes,” Cat said stretching out along the bed, “Just the ice cream. Oh, and some water.” He nodded leaving her in the room, grabbing what they needed. As he made himself a stronger drink, it started to occur to him that he hadn’t seen her drink at all the last few weeks. The bar was usually a common occurrence but it had been a while since he’d seen her even touch the stuff. He handed her the ice cream, placing the water on the nightstand. She looked so comfortable with all the pillows around her, leaving little room for him. 

He frowned, “Where am I supposed to be?”

Cat looked at the bed, “Oh,” she pursed her lips, “That’s a very good question because I’m already very comfy.” 

He climbed on the bed pushing her back so she was as close as she could be against the headboard, “Now since you took all the pillows,” he lightly patted her stomach before leaning against her, settling himself so his legs wouldn’t be in front of the tv, Cat laughing as he made himself comfortable, “I’m using you as one.”

She rolled her eyes running her fingers through his hair, “Fair is fair I guess. Just be careful okay?”

He looked up to her with his golden sympathetic eyes, “Cramps?”

She didn’t look his way, “Something like that,” she responded as she started up the musical. Her voice filled the room for some of the songs as Wes tried to put pieces together. Something seemed off with her and he was only just starting to realize it, but there were things wrong for almost two months now. Then again, Raf wasn’t entirely himself either, there were a few times he seemed to have drank more than normal, while Cat stayed sober despite having a few drinks. Their diets had changed a bit too, well mostly for Cat it didn’t seem that out of the norm for her husband. 

By the intermission of the musical Cat looked at the clock, “Maybe we ought to call it quits with this one.” She yawned, “Getting kind of tired and I do want to watch the last movie with you,” another sign, she never felt frequently tired unless her mood went way down something that hadn’t been a problem. She patted Wes’ chest, “Here get up I have to go to the bathroom.” Wes watched as she left the room, his brain debating on if he should get to the bottom of this mystery now or….

No, now was the better option. He got up from the bed waiting near the door for her. She walked out, eyes widening in surprise seeing him stand there, cursing under breath as she clutched her chest, “Somethin’s up. Not just with you, but Raf too.”

She took a step to the side, “Don’t know what you’re talking about Wes. Think you’re getting too many ideas in your head,” she wave him off, taking a step forward. 

“No,” he blocked her way into the room, “you two are up to something. I’m gonna find out.” He put his hands on his hips standing straight hoping to intimidate Cat. 

She gave a nod, “Yeah you sure will Wes. Let me know when you do,” Cat pushed past him again.

He let out a breath as he let her take a step, “Didn’t want to have to do this.” He shook out his arms readying himself. 

Cat turned to him confused, “Do what?” She asked before Wes put his arms around her letting her carry his weight. “Wes!”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, pushing against her a bit.

“Wes! Stop it!” She pleaded, her knees starting to bend as he managed to make himself become more dead weight against her.

“I can’t,” a smile on his face as she came closer to the floor, “Gravity it’s increasing,” he proclaimed in a dramatic voice, as he pushed harder against her arms trying to keep him off of her. 

“No it’s not you jerk!” He opened his mouth to quote more, “And no,” Cat huffed, “the same thing didn’t happen to you the last time.” Catlina finally fell to the floor Wes on top of her, she tried and failed to push him off of her, most of her arms trapped under his body. “Wes,” she whined, muffled by his shoulder, “Get off of me.”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Don’t be such a child,” she tried to roll out from under him, his arms wrapping around her tightly, her breathing starting to become restricted, “Wes! You’re crushing me right now!”

“Just tell me,” he repeated, his hands reaching for her waist to tickle her.

She gasped, “Don’t you dare!” Her chest hurt even more as he made her laugh and squirm under him, “Wesley Daniel Brooks! Stop this right now!”

He lifted his head just enough to look her in the eyes, an exaggerated frown, “Now who’s being mean?” He let himself fall against her, knocking the air out of her, “Just tell me.”

She shook her head, “I can’t!” Her laughing started up again, “I want to but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough,” her sides were starting to hurt and she felt her arms tire more with each second that passed. 

She laughed, “Okay fine! Fine! But you gotta get off of me first,” he propped himself on his elbows looking down at her, “Like fully off of me so I can catch my breath.” She gave a light push as she brought herself to a sitting position. Wes stood, holding his hand out to her as she took deep breaths, “Thank you,” she said grabbing his hand. He watched her as she smoothed out her tank top and pants, inhaling deeply when she was done.

“So what’s up?”

She pointed a stern finger at him, “You can’t tell anyone else. I shouldn’t even be telling you but you damn near killed me.” She crossed her arms looking to the ground, “I’m pregnant.”

Wes’ eyes went wide, jaw dropping, “What?”

Catlina shrugged, running a hand through her hair, “Raf and I are going to have a kid.”

“Assume he knows right?” She nodded, “This new?”

She bit her lip, a blush coming to her cheeks, “No, not really.” She grabbed Wes’ hand seeing him start to turn sad, “We haven’t told anyone else Wes. In fact, we were planning on telling you next week, then everyone after that.”

He gave a slight tilt of his head, “How far ‘long are ya?”

“Almost three months,” her free hand instinctively went to her lower abdomen, “This is going to sound dumb but we waited becuase there’s a superstition in my family. Tell anyone outside of immediate blood family before three months and you’re gonna jinx it.” She gave a squeeze of his hand, “I’m sorry. I really wanted to tell you but I wasn’t sure how far that superstition went and I,” she shook her head, “I didn’t want anything bad to happen.” She looked up to his eyes, “I’m really sorry Wes. You’re the first person I’ve told other than Raf if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not even your dad or sisters,” he asked.

She shook her head, “No. We just started to get a better relationship going and I don’t know it seemed like too much to drop on them.” She glanced away from him, “How do you feel about it all though? Now that you know.”

“Bit sad you didn’t tell me sooner,” Wes took a breath, “but real happy for ya both. Truly. You always wanted this and it’s happening.” Cat smiled nodding, her eyes filling with tears, “So long you both are happy, that’s all that matters.”

Cat pulled him into a hug, “Thank you Wes. Next time you’ll be better kept in the loop, I promise.” He hugged her tightly lifting her from the ground briefly before putting her on the ground, “But Wes,” he looked at her serious expression, “You can’t tell anyone else. Don’t even let Raf know that you know. Act as surprised as you can when we tell you and John next week. Got it?” Wes gave her a smirk smiling, Cat holding out her pinky, “Promise me.”

Wes wrapped his pinky around Cat’s looking her dead in the eye, “I promise.” She nodded walking back to the bed, “So you gonna name ‘em after me?”

“Wes we don’t even know the gender,” Cat answered rolling her eyes as she made a spot on the bed for herself, Wes following suit.

“Wes could be gender neutral,” he argued.

“Wes Estrada dos Santos doesn’t really have a nice ring to it does it?” She laughed, letting herself lay against him.

Wes hit play on the movie, “I mean, could make it work.”

Catlina rolled her eyes, groaning, “This was a mistake already,” she looked up to him smiling, “Telling you that is.” Wes chuckled, keeping quiet as the movie started.

“Wait,” he said softly, “This mean I’ve to plan a shower now?”

[flickityfics]

Don’t Play With Fire, Chap 7 First Day of Work

Um..to answer your concerns Sokka there's no need to worry. This may embarrass you to read but its all perfectly normal in women's body. The throbbing and slick you've mentioned is from arousal and the ones you mention that come randomly isn't always arousal but the way the body is trying to self clean or protect your genitals from tearing and dangerous bacteria's. Sometimes your vagina can even..well for lack of a better word let's just call it sweating, so for example say you're moving around a lot and you feel you're self dripping but its a different feeling from arousal just hot and a wetter feeling which again all normal, if you're feeling uncomfortable just wipe yourself and go through the day. I'm Glad you're taking my advice seriously and it's good to hear you're doing well with your situation. So far I haven't found anything about body swapping? gender swapping or transference of any kind I'm so sorry. Just keep staying low and being careful, we'll figure this out soon.

                                                                                                                                                              -Suki

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Sokka, It's great to hear from you! We're still putting up fliers of Appa around Ba Sing Se and looking all around places. Toph and Katara are always fighting though, Katara won't let us play our tricks on anyone or even explore or relax, its all work work wor-  

                                               Anyways Sokka you better be pulling your weight and not having Suki cleaning up after you and do try to stay out of trouble okay, I do worry you know, we miss you a lot.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  -The Gaang

Sokka laughed hard seeing Toph's lone foot print right underneath his sister's and Aang's writing, seeing that told him more about her than words ever could. He really missed his family/friend group. Before he could get any sadder he folded the letter and stuffed it in his pack heading to work, he'll write a responding note later tonight.  

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Sokka was full of energy heading towards his new job. He's curious to know how different it'll be from the other ehem manlier jobs he's done. 'Honestly how hard could a girl's job be? Katara complains all the time but I bet she was just being dramatic'  he figured. With everything double checked and his breakfast packed he went out for the semi-long walk to work.  Upon arriving to the building, Sokka went straight through the door finding the elder lady waiting for him.

"Hi, so what will I be doing today?" He asked with all the enthusiasm he could muster.

"We start by checking our list of customers who dropped off their laundry, with the other workers we'll go wash together then hang all the laundry to dry and fold, lastly we pack and send out the clothes." she explained.

"Alright sounds easy enough." Sokka followed along as she gave him a tour of the place and areas he'll be needing to know.

After a few tiring hours did he have breakfast, the work ended up more tiring and tougher than expected but he got the hang of it pretty fast and turned out he was the fastest and strongest there which turned out some of the girls didn't like. On his first day an older girl by few years was sabotaging all his work trying to get him trouble and after explaining that to the elder boss lady was he able to stay working. 'women are crazy, guys just nod at each other, find their spots to work, get paid then leave without any word to one another'  He couldn't believe how cut throat it was working as a girl alongside other girls. Just a few more hours and he'll be able to relax and enjoy Zuko's company at the Jasmine Dragon, 'oh my god I didn't just think of stupid fire bending Zuko as nice company?! I've got to get a hold of myself, I'll just blame this dumb girl body and girly brain, ick .'  He mentally shook himself from the strange feeling that came over him towards another guy.

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Sokka came through the door of the tea shop dramatically falling in the doorway trying to catch Zuko's eye. He spotted Zuko in the kitchen and waved to him obnoxiously, he could honestly say he liked the perplexed and fearful look in the other boys face from the scene he was causing. Walking towards the kitchen, he sat himself down waiting to tell Zuko about his day.

Since Zuko looked like he was trying to ignore him, he caught the uncle's attention instead, "Hey old man when's the jerk's break?" To other's he may seem like an uncouth girl but he really didn't care for appropriateness right after work.

"You can't talk to him lik-" Zuko was just about to rant when he heard his uncle guffawed loudly.

"Oh nephew don't worry about my feelings, I love this young lady and her wily ways, its quite refreshing from your gloomy moods." he expressed. Zuko could only scoff at his uncle's slight rub towards him.

Sokka stuck his tongue at Zuko watching as he just rolled his eyes in return.

"I'll let my dear nephew  off for the rest of the day. Please take him away and show him how to have fun for once in his life." His uncle practically begged.

The two conspired against Zuko and all he could do was hang up his apron and get dragged by Miyuki's whims, he'll never admit to either of them that he likes getting pushed around, he'll keep that to the grave.

"Great! Let's get a table, I've got tons of stuff to share about my day." He grabbed Zuko by the arm and lead him to a free spot.

Sokka waited to be settled at the table, ordering before turning around to unleash his rant. He was weirdly giddy wanting to tell Zuko about his day.

"You won't believe my day." Sokka shook his head tiredly, "So I get there, the boss lady is nice but oh man some of those girls are mean. I had one try to sabotage my work by telling me to place stuff in the wrong place and they're very particular about where things go so that messed me up some. The washing part was tougher than I thought, I had to wring and scrub the clothes til my fingers cramped and wrinkled, ugh it was tiring. Drying was easier and folding strangely calming, the whole clean-up routine was just easy and besides the rude girls, I liked the job overall and think I can stick with it." He ended with a flourish, elbows on the table smiling at the fire prince, laughing internally with Zuko's stoned-face reaction to his long-winded story.

"Sounds like a frustrating day to me, welcome to the job world I guess." Sokka could't believe Zuko's flippant reply, he honestly thought he would be more caring to his woes and again what's with himself wanting Zuko's sympathy?

"Excuse me, that's funny coming from someone whose probably never had a hard labor job before. I'm guessing you had it easy since your uncle was able to provide you one. You don't know the struggles of running around and being told flat out no or when you finally get lucky it only lasts for so long before you're replaced or treated like crap and running yourself exhausted for people who don't care but keep abusing you til you can't go on anymore." Sokka had no idea why he was throwing everything at Zuko. His emotions just started bursting maybe its the way he knows Zuko's privileged, entitled fire prince jerk that he is has everything handed to him and  just pretending to be undercover as some regular civilian to get to Aang. He could only huff in annoyance at himself and Zuko for letting his emotions get the better of him, he decided it was just best to stay quiet and not look at Zuko lest his hostility for the guy becomes more prominent.

"Well, I do find serving customers and cleaning after everyone frustrating and tiring most days. I've been assaulted by older women pinching my bottom cheeks, jealous boyfriends harassing me when their girlfriends try to be flirty at me, even got some few girls who stalked me for quite some time or the rude customers I hate who are disrespectful to me but mostly my uncle, I just want to burn them to a crisp, nobody disrespects my uncle and his beloved tea shop in front of me. I actually do know how hard laborious work can be especially with not much help and little pay." Zuko looked at the girl in front of him with all the openness he could muster. He knew she had it rougher than him but it wasn't like he didn't have his own hardships, they were just different from hers.

Sokka huffed in annoyance even more hating being so temper mental while Zuko explained himself calmly and free of judgment for his part. 'why am I such a child?'  he thought lamely.

"Ugh, sorry for being rude, I guess I'm more annoyed at the fact that I got turned down for most jobs just because I'm a girl. I know I can do the tough jobs, I've done them before and I like working hard and with my hands so it makes it more frustrating not even giving me a chance just by one look at me." He drummed his fingers nervously on the table still embarrassed about earlier.

Zuko couldn't help finding Miyuki's mannerisms and  temper cute, just seeing her emotions displayed out in the open and being ridiculous was refreshing and exciting to witness. Most of his life was closed off of emotions and barely a few months now he's been trying to open up to his feelings, they were scary but freeing and seeing Miyuki so unafraid of her emotions filled him with more confidence each day.

"I get it and if you'd like something more.. uh manlier to do, I can train you in dual wielding after whenever you'd like." He offered.

"Oh? Is that a date dear Lee?" Sokka jumped on the chance to embarrass him, something about seeing Zuko so flustered had him feeling awesome. He liked being back in control and harassing the poor teen.

"Ugh no, if you don't want the training then I won't bother." The tips of Zuko's ears went red as he looked glaringly at Sokka.

"Nooooo, I want the training really." To soften the blow of annoying Zuko did he mentally shrug and go for a kiss to the bender's cheek. He gasped in total surprise as he felt heat around his lips and a waft of what could only be the fire bender's particular scent, it was in his nose so thickly and strangely addictive he wanted to keep his nose to the other's cheek and soak it up forever even be mixed in it. 'What 's wrong with you?! Why are you smelling another dudes scent, stop! Stop it nooooow!'  he couldn't believe how soft a cheek could feel and was that a bit of scruff he felt, it felt so rough on his lips he actually didn't like that. Finally did he pull away and hope to agni the shudder he felt coursing through his body didn't show outwardly.

Zuko was surprised from the peck, it happened so fast but had him feel deeply warm from such a sweet kiss. "Um, how uh- or I mean.. What else did you like about the new job?" Yeah, his brain was done for.

Sokka rolled his eyes playfully, "How bout we talk more about it on the way to walking me to my place?" He held out his hand nervously.

"Okay." Zuko agreed grabbing her hand walking out the shop and down the familiar path to Miyuki's place.

The two caught up with each other's day, some more teasing, awkward flirting and plans for the next time they meet unaware of the mischievous moonlight's gaze upon them.

[weloveanyways]

EXPECTATIONS (The Rookie) 

FF.Net / Ao3

Summary: 

"I'm claustrophobic now. Tight spaces, especially unlit ones, make me nervous." Things have changed for Officer Chen, even as she gets cleared for active duty. LA has a way of making her deal with it head on.

Earthquake Tw.

Characters: Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen

Note: 

Writing fic still makes me a little nervous, but here it is! I hope you guys like it. I’m sorry it’s so short. I got this prompt idea from @thefirsthogokage and mixed it with a couple of anonymous ones asking me to have Lucy’s PTSD involved. 

Without further ado: Expectations

“How do you think you’ve changed after going through what you did?” 

Her therapist never mentioned the event in detail unless Lucy did first. She was still trying to decide if she liked that or not. On the one hand, it softened the blow of memories, but on the other, she felt the irritating prick of the nonspecific words against her skin. After going through you what you did. To some degree, Lucy just wanted her to say it. Say she was kidnapped by a serial killer’s partner and stuffed in a barrel, labeled as another body in his body count. Just fucking say it. 

Lucy didn’t say that, though, because she liked her therapist. She was kind and helpful, and hyper-focusing on one thing she didn’t like about her wasn’t going to help her. Instead, Lucy said. “I’m claustrophobic now. Tight spaces, especially unlit ones, make me nervous.”

--

Tim had been acting strange since he pulled her out of the barrel. Not entirely, of course, he still rode her ass about every little thing when she was cleared for duty, but something just felt off. When she asked Nolan and Jackson, they hadn’t really given her an answer, and she knew better than to ask Lopez or Harper. He didn’t act like she did something wrong, but it was almost like he was uncomfortable or had terrible taste in his mouth. 

They were going down to the morgue again to see another body. Lucy had her hands folded in front of her, and both looked straight ahead without talking. She needed to ask him what the hell his problem was because it was starting to get really, really annoying. Plus, her therapist (and her mom and dad) insisted excellent communication was vital. 

So, as they went down, Lucy finally got the courage to say something. “Tim?” she asked. He glanced at her. 

“What, Boot?” he said. He sounded tired. Jokes on him, she guessed, because she was tired too. 

“Can you tell me what -”

And then, the earthquake happened. 

--

Her head was buzzing, there was a loud ringing in her ears, and goddamn it, her head really hurt. Something large was on top of her, and she was pretty sure she smelled smoke. The ground was still tremoring lightly. She let out a cough. “Ouch.” 

“Boot.” A muffled voice from on top of her. Tim.

Lucy remembered what happened. The second the ground began shaking, Tim had practically tackled her to the floor. He still had an arm wrapped around her as he began to push himself off her. 

“Boot.” He repeated, and Lucy realized he asked her something. 

“Your elbow’s in my spleen,” she hissed back, and finally, she managed to shove off him completely, and she sat up. She coughed, squinting around. The lights had gone out, but in the darkness of the car she could see it had warped a little. It was a small space. Lucy’s breath caught slightly, and her eyes closed. 

Not good. Breathe, Lucy. She tried to order herself too, but she could feel her heart rate going up as their situation began to sink in. They were trapped in a box until the LAFD could get them out. 

“Chen, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” No, she was not, because up until then, she hadn’t realized he’d been trying to talk to her. He shined his flashlight in her face, and she realized she was still on the ground. He had stood, having the flashlight in his hand and his radio in the other. The receivers were probably out, just like last time. “Are you hurt?” 

“At least a box is better than a barrel,” Lucy blurted out before she could stop herself. Tim’s mouth dropped open a moment, and Lucy began to laugh nervously. Breathe, Lucy. There was no way they were going to run out of air in here. There was too much room, the LAFD would get them out of there, and there was a vent. Temperatures were starting to rise, and she immediately reached up to undo the top button of her uniform, slowly trying to breathe in and out so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. 

Tim stooped down, back to his knees to look at her. “Chen - Lucy,” he said warily. “Are you alright?” 

“No,” Lucy snapped, leaning her head back against the wall of the elevator. Sudden spike in irritability. Temperature suddenly getting way too hot. Having to stop herself from hyperventilating. She was going to have or had just started to have a panic attack. Closing her eyes didn’t help, because when she did, she saw the tight insides of the round barrel, her soft voice vibrating off the barrel walls as she sang herself into unconsciousness.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she almost started choking. No! Her brain yelled at her. Save your breath. Save your air!

“Look at me. Lucy, look at me!” Tim grabbed her shoulders, and she and she was once against startled out of her head, looking at him with wide eyes. He was close to her now, deadly serious. “Take a deep breath.” Her chest hitched and all she was able to do was wheeze. “Try again.” 

“B-”

“Do it! Look at me, Boot. Come on, I got you.” Lucy doesn’t know why she should believe him (except for the fact that he is a good cop with a good heart who cares about people) and took a deep breath anyway. “Hold it.” 

Lucy’s cheeks puffed out as she made the air stay in. They were still making uncomfortable eye contact. He wouldn’t let go of her gaze. Four, maybe five seconds later, he told her, “Let it go.” 

He repeated that a couple times before he let her shoulders go and grabbed her wrist to check her pulse. Lucy silently continued to breathe, but it was only a little better. Every blink, every other thought, was drawing her back. It was like this when she slept, too, with vivid dreams and memories of the barrel of Caleb tattooing her side. 

“Better?” Tim asked quietly. 

Lucy looked down and took her wrist back, shaking her head. “Sorry.” 

Tim, glancing around the elevator, finally decided that there were going to be there a while. He shifted and sat next to her, back against the elevator wall as he pulled out his phone. “Phone lines down.” 

“They knew we were coming down,” Lucy said, stiffly. 

“I wonder if it was a big one.” 

Lucy didn’t answer, only looking at the dent in the adjacent wall. 

They fell silent for only a second before she heard Tim sigh and speak again. “You don’t have to be sorry.” He finally said. Lucy took a deep breath and waited for him to continue. “No one expects you to be alright, Boot.” She looked over at him then, letting it out. He wasn’t looking at her, instead straight ahead at the wall. 

“I’ve been doing fine.” Lucy was arguing. She was using her arguing tone, but she wasn’t quite sure where the argument was. Maybe she was being defensive because she wanted to be alright. She wanted to be fine, and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. 

Tim scoffed. “You haven’t been sleeping.” He was right, she hadn’t been. Not much, anyway. She kept having nightmares that kept her awake. 

“Did Jackson say -”

Tim shot her a look. “Do you think I need Jackson to tell me when my boot isn’t well-rested?” He said sharply. 

Lucy deflated slightly, running her hands down her uniform and over her thighs. She stretched her legs out in front of her instead of curling them to her chest. She had the room, this time, use it, so her legs wouldn’t cramp up. 

“You’ve been acting weird,” Lucy muttered.

“Why? Because I made you tackle a naked Santa Claus covered in peanut butter on Christmas Eve?” Tim shot back, and Lucy, despite herself, let out a laugh that sounded more like a distressed cry. 

“No. I knew you were going to make me do that the second we took that call.” 

“Then what do you mean?” 

Lucy ran a hand down her face, taking her time before answering. He let her too. “It’s - I don’t think it’s just you. Everyone’s been - I feel like I’m in a fishbowl. Everyone knows what’s happened, and everyone’s trying to be normal, and everything isn’t normal anymore.” She said it, and suddenly, she feels a little better. She leaned her head back against the elevator wall. 

“What’s normal, Boot?” Tim asked, and Lucy knew it was a real question and not one to mock her. 

“I don’t know anymore. Not… Not this, though.” Lucy said. “You’re nice to me.” 

Tim snorted, and Lucy shot him a look. She didn’t think it was amusing. 

“Shouldn’t you be testing me on earthquake protocol,” Lucy said, agitated. “Or riding me about some sort of -”

“Is that what you want me to do, Chen?” Tim asked, sharply, and they look at each other for a moment. Lucy realized that he hadn’t actually thought it was funny either. They were both irritated. “I train rookies, and I try to bend and break them every chance I get, but I’m not going to start quizzing you when you’re having a panic attack about getting stuffed in an oil drum for 11 hours and left to die!” 

Lucy’s jaw tightened, and she looked away from him, taking more deep breaths. They sat in silence for a long time, then. Tim checked his phone and radio a couple times, while she finally checked her phone. She didn’t like this phone. Her old one was found shattered against a boulder in the woods, so she had to get a new one.

 She felt like her limbs were made of metal, and she was tired. She would give anything to take a nap if they weren’t in a safety hazard. 

“What floor did we stop on?” Lucy asked. 

“Between 1 and the basement. If the cables break, we won’t die.” Tim said. 

“Well, that’s a relief. They must know we’re here.”

“They know,” Tim assured her. 

Silence, again. Tim shifted to stand, but Lucy didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She hadn’t stood since Tim tackled her to the ground as the earthquake started. 

“Do you remember what you told me when Captain Anderson died?” Lucy asked. The screen of Tim’s phone illuminated his face, and he looked down at her. He didn’t answer but waited for her to elaborate. “Grief is a hole that can’t be filled, but over time it will shrink enough so that you won’t fall in every time you take a step,” she said, pressing her lips together, eyes closing. 

“I do,” he said quietly. 

“I keep falling in, Tim.” Lucy let out a humorless laugh, and she felt him stoop back to her level again. Her eyes opened. “I go over it again and again and again - I still don’t know when he slipped the drug into my drink. I replay our conversation in the bar, him leading me outside… And then putting me in his trunk. I woke up in that stupid barrel and there was no way out. My legs still hurt if I sit in that position for too long, and after you took me out, Armstrong’s body was just…” Armstrong had died. He had been the one to find her first and hadn’t waited for backup. When Nolan and Tim pried the lid off the barrel, and took her out, she remembered seeing his body while Harper and Lopez arrived on scene. After that, though, it’s a blur. She was delusional, half-dead as she collapsed. 

“And my side…” Lucy put her head in her hands, leaning over herself. She doesn’t want to cry in front of him; this time, there was no bathroom to escape to so she could splash water on her face. 

“My side has a day of death on it,” Lucy said. 

“I know.” Tim sat next to her again, and he put a tentative hand on her shoulder, gripping it hard. “This is a different kind of grief, Lucy. It -”

“Rages inside me, instead of pulling me down into depression.” Lucy finished for him. “I’m angry. All the time. At myself, at Caleb, at… Everything.”  

“Do you think you should have taken more time off?” he asked quietly. More time off meant she would have been extended in the program, and she definitely hadn’t wanted that. Lucy knew, however, that she wouldn’t have returned if she couldn’t trust herself with a loaded gun. And she knew that there was no way in hell Tim would have allowed her back under him if he had even the slightest inkling she wasn’t ready. 

“No.” Lucy shook her head. “I think I need to get out of this fucking elevator.” 

Tim let out a sigh as she finally pushed herself to her feet and looked up at the ceiling. 

“You won’t be able to crawl through,” he said flatly. “It’s bolted down.” Lucy shot him a look. 

“And we’re between floors., so prying the doors open won’t help at all. They probably have some sort of safety on them any way that doesn’t allow them to open all the way when they’re not on the right floor.” 

“Very astute, Officer Chen,” Tim said, folding his arms over his chest. Lucy sniffed slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. She hadn’t realized she had been crying, and Tim was kind enough not to mention it. 

“So what, then? What’s the Tim Bradford way of getting out of this shit? What do we do?” 

Tim was quiet for a moment, before he leaned forward, reaching up to touch her arm, gently pulling her back down to the floor. She looked at him for a long time. 

“We wait, Lucy,” Tim said. “They’ll find us. They’ll always find us.” Lucy shifted to sit back next to him so they were side by side, like they were before. He hadn’t taken his hand off her arm like she was going to run away. 

“I was afraid we weren’t going to get to you in time.” Tim admitted quietly. The guilt was evident on his normally unreadable face. Lucy liked to think she had gotten pretty good at reading it. This was, she noted, as difficult for him as it was for her.

“You found me in time.” She murmured. He looked down at her. 

“Yeah.”

“They’ll find us in time,” Lucy said.

“They know we’re here,” Tim responded. Lucy noticed then how tired she was and she settled back up against the wall, closing her eyes. “You’re not sleeping, are you, Boot?” 

“Can’t hear you over the sound of my own snoring.”

“Chen, I -”

Lucy had already drifted off to sleep, so she couldn’t hear the rest of whatever he said. Or maybe she did listen to it, but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it because it made her feel some type of way. 

I’ll always find you. 

--

Approximately three hours after the earthquake, Officer Chen and Officer Bradford were freed from the elevator, with the latter boasting about how he had to have a new sleeping-Boot T-Shirt made.

[thotantics]

Got7 reaction to having sex/fooling around at work 😏 idk why the thought of this is making me all giddy. Thank uuu 🥰

Jaebeom

His intentions were pure when he showed up at your office with a bouquet of flowers to congratulate you on your promotion. Despite his efforts to be on his best behavior, the chaste kiss he planted on your lips lingered, your hands threading innocently into his hair, keeping him close, and desire stirred in him. He kissed a path down your neck, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass through your professional pinstriped work skirt, and you gasped softly, reminding him that someone could catch you and gently suggesting that maybe you should stop. Jaebeom’s fingers smooth up your inner thigh as he sits you down easily on top of your desk, scattering papers across, and he asks if you really want him to stop. Your only response is to grab him by the nape of the neck and tug him down to kiss you again. He fingers you until you’re dripping before he bends you over your brand new desk in your brand new office and that’s when you realize the shades on the window are wide open. Blushing furiously, trying hard to keep your cries of passion to a minimum, you squeeze your eyes shut, blocking out the daylight streaming through the window as Jaebeom fucks you hard. It’s dirty and fast, and he leaves your cunt sloppy when he’s finished, sliding your panties back up your thighs with a devilish smirk before he congratulates you on your promotion again, his tone formal as he bows out of the room as if nothing happened.

Mark

It was kind of Mark to offer to pick you up after work, but you couldn’t prepare for the onslaught of customers who stormed the restaurant a half hour before closing, overstaying their welcome by a good margin. It was against the rules to tidy up the lobby while customers were present, so you invited Mark inside, texting him about the situation, and promising you’d make him a cup of coffee and slide him a complimentary slice of cake for his trouble. After the last people finally leave, you’re left alone to lock up and finish the end of the night duties. Mark is half asleep in a corner booth when you approach him next, slipping a stained apron over your head and tossing it onto the back of one of the chairs nearby. You mutter an apology stirring him awake, and he smiles up at you, “I know a way you can make it up to me.” You’re immediately scandalized, “Here?! Now??” but he just bites his lip and gives you a flirting lift of his brow, waiting to see if you’ll give in. It’s lucky that you know this place like the back of your hand, and you know this particular booth is just out of view of the security cameras. So you swing a leg over his lap and settle on top of him, kissing him lazily while he shoves your panties aside under your work skirt and presses himself up inside of you. You ride his dick slow and steady, stroking his hair while he mouths at your breasts through the material of your bra, shoving your shirt up so he can watch the way your tits bounce each time he thrusts up. The next day, you find it hard to look your manager in the eyes as you watch her give the tables in the lobby a wipe down, blushing all the way to your ears when she moves to clean the very booth you and Mark had occupied the previous night.

Jackson

He’s shameless when he wants you. He doesn’t care who’s around or who could see, he’s eyeing you up very deliberately, his tongue wetting his lips before he bites at the inside of his cheek, hand smoothing up your inner thigh. He isn’t subtle at all about it when he asks you to come with him somewhere. Nearby, Bambam gives an obvious look like he knows what’s going on, but he doesn’t say anything as Jackson stands and extends a hand to you. He has to be on stage with the others in a matter of minutes but adrenaline is coursing through him and he wants to let off some steam so he can concentrate. At least, that’s what he tells you as he lifts you up on the bathroom sink and drops to his knees in front of you. You’re flustered and your heart is thundering in your chest as he licks you, tongue precise in his movements, groaning when he feels your wetness seep out against his tongue. He rises when he feels you’re wet enough to take him and presses his cock into your folds, teasing you with the head of his dick against your clit until you groan for him to fuck you already. Later, Jackson struts out on stage shirtless with a bright red hickey bit into his left shoulder. You’re blushing furiously because surely every one of the others knows what happened before he went on stage, but he’s performing with a glow of confidence that you can’t help but to take pride in.

Jinyoung

He invited you on a photo shoot because you had been busy at work and unable to spend much time together lately. Tagging along while Jinyoung worked sometimes consisted of a lot of sitting around. Especially when he was fourth in line and it was just now Mark’s turn in front of the camera. Leaning forward, his mouth grazed your ear, asking in a low murmur if you wanted to sneak off somewhere. It’s a naughty proposition, but surely it would be harmless if nobody noticed, so you agree to meet him in the bathroom. Jinyoung leaves first and you wait a few minutes before following after him. The moment you open the bathroom door, he shoves you against it, locking it as his mouth latches onto the side of your neck. He removes only what items of clothing is necessary to reach you, his fingers pumping into you in preparation for his cock while he kisses you to silence your moans. When he finally fucks you, it’s with your back to the door, stopping if anybody should try and enter the bathroom you’re occupying, your legs tucked around his waist and his hands squeezing bruises into your hips. It’s with a jolt of surprise that nearly stops your heart all together when you feel the door knob turn against your hip and feel the pressure of someone on the other side attempting to come in. Jinyoung doesn’t stop. He pulls back from your neck and gives you a look, telling you with his eyes to stay quiet as he keeps fucking you against the door and eventually, whoever’s out there trying to get in gives up and you hear their footsteps leave down the hall, letting out a shuddering gasp of breath as you cum on his thick cock.

Youngjae

Working with Youngjae as a stylist was difficult. He liked to distract you while you worked, and it was obvious how much having you close turned him on. While you adjusted his clothes the swelling in his dick was painfully obvious, and he wasn’t ashamed at all, winking and making kissy faces at you every chance he could get. He left to start filming their latest music video and rushed back into the cramped dressing room with a button “accidentally” popped on his shirt, needing you to quickly stitch it back on. But before you could take the button from him, he grabbed your hand, the button falling to the floor and disappearing as he kisses from your mouth down to your throat, his hands roaming over your ass and gripping at you like a man starved of your touch. You’d been intimate that very morning but it didn’t quell the urgency with which he bent you over the nearest chair. You kept yourself propped up on your elbows while he ducked behind you, licking and finger fucking you briefly before he stuffed you full of his dick, slamming his hips into you from behind, breathing heavy. He makes you cum fast, and laughs happily from behind you as you quiver under him, knees buckling, murmuring, “Almost there, baby...almost..” He cums with a final, forceful thrust into you, filling you up, and then he straightens and helps you stand upright, glancing around the floor briefly before he shrugs, “I guess we lost that button... I don’t suppose you have a spare lying around here somewhere?”

Bambam

You were having a very late night at work, crunching to make a deadline for the next morning. Bambam called and could hear the tension in your voice, the way you sighed so heavy and responded in short, clipped sentences. He decided you need him in a bad way, so he showed up unannounced at your office after 10pm, dressed to the nines as always. You were thrilled to see him, melting into his embrace as his hands smooth up and down your spine. He murmurs gently into your hair that you’re so tense, and he wants you to take a short break with him so he can help you out. You agree, thinking a back rub sounds nice, or maybe a late night dinner, but Bam has other ideas. He has you sit at your desk and swivels your chair around so he has room to fit himself between you and the desk, and his hands smooth up your skirt, slipping your panties aside so he can tease you with the tips of his fingers and, eventually, his tongue. He edges you once like this, pumping his fingers in your dripping cunt and lapping eagerly at your clit, stopping when he feels your thighs quake around him. He stands, pumping his cock in his fist, and tells you to lay across the desk for him. He fucks you nice and slow, building up an earth shattering orgasm that has tears spilling from your eyes as you claw at his shoulders, and Bam kisses them away gently before he pulls back from you, helping you right yourself. He calls in some food for you and stays to pay for it before leaving you be to finish your work in peace, smiling when you tell him how much more relaxed you feel. You complete your work in record time and head back home in a hurry to end the night with him in bed, snuggled up together watching TV.

Yugyeom

Being a makeup artist had it’s perks. Namely, your favorite client, Kim Yugyeom. You told him so as you painted a pale, dusty pink gloss over his plump lips, making them extra shiny and kissable, and he asked why. He knew why. It was still a new thing between you, but it was hot and maybe a little bit dangerous, but for right now the excitement of it all was intense and you couldn’t get enough of one another. You try to play it cool while the other members and staff are flitting about the dressing room, but it’s hard when Yugyeom is looking at you the way he is. Like he’s going to kiss you any second. Heart fluttering, you turn to put your stuff away, listening to the general chatter in the room die down as more and more people start to leave. Yugyeom lingers, on his phone by the door, and the moment the last person to exist the room is gone, he shuts the door behind them and rushes over to you. It’s hot and passionate, teeth clashing as you kiss fiercely, hands clawing to get under each other’s clothes. He pulls you into his lap in the same chair he’d sat in while you did his makeup and thrust up into you steadily, controlling the pace and keeping you biting roughly into his shoulder to stifle your moans. You cum together, gasping and groaning under your breaths, stifling the sounds of your passion by kissing. He hurries to right himself, turning to you with a playful smile a second after Bambam comes back, looking for the glasses he was supposed to be wearing for the music video that he’d laid down somewhere, totally unaware of what he very nearly walked in on.

[theshinobiway]

hi! could you please do headcannons with #5 (massages) from the touch prompts for team gai + team kurenai?

Request Scenarios: #5 (Massages) for Team Guy & Team Kurenai

Heck yes I’d love to! I’m always down to write about my Konoha 12 babes

as long as I can make sure the blog stays tilted in favor of Team Guy! Thanks

for submitting the ask to the blog! 

Minor Suggestive content but nothing explicit.

Might Guy

Giving

Ø  Oh God please ask for a massage at your own risk

Ø  He gets a little overzealous, to say the least. If we’re talking about Gai, you’re getting either the best shiatsu of your life or karate chopped in half. I guess your back can’t hurt if it’s been liquified.

Ø  He’s got some big hands and he’s going to show you everything he can do with them.

Ø  He will crush every bone in your body. That’s what he’s going to do with them.

Ø  You never knew you could bend that way, now whoop here you are. The context forthis can go either way because it would happen like that. He’ll be your personal chiropractor.

Ø  If you aren’t screaming ‘yes daddy’ by the end of the massage consider it his off day.

Ø  Though honestly, that stubborn knot in your back? Gone. Your spine went with it, but sacrifices had to be made. Thank you come again

Receiving

Ø  This man’s back is so tight it could deflect bullets.

Ø  You want to massage Guy? Buy a jackhammer. Only the steel-handed will work their magic on these biceps. You can try to kiss up on him to be sweet, but save it for his face, he’ll feel it more there anyway.

Ø  Loves his pecks massaged. They just get so tense from being, y’know, super freaking ripped all the time.

Ø  Use your whole body weight and press down as hard as you can go. You’ll warm him up to where he can relax a little and you can start to make headway into the 4 inches of rock solid steel that covers his body. Plus, he’s the kind to give you a lot of verbal praise.

Ø  Get your elbows in there son. You can’t go too rough on Guy. Just punch his back like your name is Saitama.

Ø  You trying to rile him up? Just freaking grab it. Massage round two: The dickening.

Rock Lee

Giving

Ø  Lee is so shy about putting his hands on you whether it’s giving or receiving, doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and is worried about making you think he's inappropriate.

Ø  If you encourage him enough he’ll definitely do it and will be a little too soft at first, doesn’t want to hurt you at all. 

Ø  He’ll try to do exactly what you say but he might get a little crazy with it (slow down Lee), but if you don’t feel the need to reign him in besides that he’ll cover every muscle in your body. 

Ø  Literally will not stop until you are the most relaxed you’ve ever been. Once he gives you one, he’ll pop up every time you say something is sore and take care of it on the spot. You now have him on call and this boy delivers.

Ø  You don’t even need to ask at this point, mention you’re in pain (like cramps or anything) and he’s there. Doesn’t even bat an eye at what you’d be asking him to do. 

Ø  If you want more from this massage you’ll have to drop some serious hints. Lee will be a little flustered at first to act, but turn around and catch him in a kiss and he’ll get the idea. You might have to physically move his hands where you want them, but he does a thorough job.

Receiving

Ø  Now you know this boy needs athletic massages like no other with his crazy training regiments.

Ø  Totally wants it but may hesitate to ask. If he’s given you a massage but you haven’t given him one, still will be too flustered to ask.

Ø  You’ll have to vary your grip because his muscles will be crazy sore after a long day. Certain areas will be more sensitive/needy than others. He doesn’t have a preference on where you go on his body, he needs it all.

Ø  If you go rough on him (and he hasn’t injured anything lately) he might just pass out from how good it is. Tbh rough massages are his preference but with how often he pulls something he can’t always have them when he wants.

Ø  Going nice and slow will put him in the mood in a snap. He’ll be trying the whole time to enjoy it but the feeling of you being so gentle with him will make him want more of you. Prepare for a passionate encounter after with lots of kissing and hand-on-body contact.

Ø  His biceps, forearms, and calves need extra love. They’re always the most tense and get the brunt of his training. Start with gentle rubs, move up to kneading them, and finally use direct pressure on your fingers. Lee will be super snuggly with you the whole time you do it, giving you lots of verbal cues to let you know that he thinks you give the best massages in the whole village.

Tenten

Giving

Ø  You’ll have to ask, but Tenten will most often be down for giving massages to both her s/o and perhaps a closer friend.

Ø  She gets right to business where you need, and she doesn’t really ‘lead up to it.’ If you need gentle massages you’ll have to remind her because like everything else in her life, she goes hard. 100% or nothing baby

Ø  With a friend she’ll be insistent at working at the problem spots until the all of the knots are all gone. Nope, no job is left half-finished with Tenten. You’re staying until they’re gone and that’s final.

Ø  With her s/o she might relent a little bit, but she’ll also know how to work your body a lot better, which means it won’t take as long.

Ø  Low-key melts when you curl up with her. Loves having you in her arms while she gently massages your back, male or female.

Ø  Initiating sexytimes with a massage isn’t her preferred route, but if she’s on edge enough she’ll get creative. She’ll go for your sensitive spots and man she is good with her hands, you won’t want to stop her.

Receiving

Ø  As mentioned before in another post, Tenten will kill a man for back scratches. Especially if you go at it where her bra straps would be.

Ø  Will literally collapse into a puddle in your arms. She works out every muscle imaginable with her various weapons and this is such a welcome relief to finally relax.

Ø  The only place she doesn’t like touched as much is her hands, they get pretty raw from her weapon use and having to regularly cut them for her summoning jutsu. You can go pretty hard everywhere else, she isn't picky.

Ø  Massage her scalp after she takes her hair down, it feels heavenly. You’ve now unlocked snuggly Tenten and she won’t be leaving your side for the next few hours.

Ø  If you try to stop massaging her before she’s done, you’ll get the meanest of glares. Don’t you dare stop. You start massaging Tenten, you’re locked in for the next hour at least.

Ø  Of course, massages might get you lucky, but don’t push it if she’s tired. She works so hard so take some time to appreciate all those amazing and well-defined muscles you get to massage.

Neji Hyuga

Giving

Ø  Tbh the Hyuga have the entire body down to a perfected art and within the hour this genius is going to know your own body better than you probably do.

Ø  If you get a massage from him pre-relationship, he’ll only do your hands or a brief massage of your shoulder if you injured it, he keeps his touch strictly platonic and methodical even if he likes you. If he likes you he’s totally dying on the inside when he gets to touch you for an extended period of time.

Ø  Even still holy hell he’s got some magic hands. Can find and eliminate knots and discomfort in record time. Pretends like he’s agitated that you ask him to do it, but deep down he’s tossing his hair like ‘I know I’m good.’

Ø  Starts off gentle, ghosting his fingertips along your neck and back, before increasing the pressure once he locates the areas you need. Might be a bit of a tease if the massage is more meant for pleasure than soreness. Are you begging for more? You might be, idk.

Ø  He has like.. a presence. A really magnetic and naturally sensual presence, especially when you can tell his entire attention is on you. Even if he’s not trying to put you in the mood, somehow you’ll get there. Just emanates a natural knee-weakening sensuality in intimate situations.

Ø  If it’s not early relationship, he’ll try take advantage of a massage every time, he just can’t help it when he gets to caress your body in all the ways he wants to but is intimidated to ask for.

Ø After he works out all the knots and has you practically melting in his hands, of course.

Receiving

Ø  You only find out if Neji wants a massage by if he lets you or if he chews you out for trying. It’s like playing Neji minesweeper. Hot damn Neji this is why you need to chill out.

Ø  The first massage will probably be his hands after training. Totally eyeing you the whole time, but once you get started he’ll close his eyes and relax into your touch.

Ø  Prefers steady, firm pressure. He won’t direct you too much unless you’re honestly not super great at it, but he’ll be patient because he knows not everyone is as familiar with the body as he is.

Ø  You’ll never see Neji so relaxed until you give him a really good massage. He’s always super tense and on edge, so a good massage of his whole upper body will turn him to mush. Might even put him to sleep.

Ø  Massaging his scalp and forehead is his ultimate weakness. Nails on the scalp will give him goosebumps, but don’t be too rough. Forehead massages he never knew he liked until you tried it once to change things up, and now he’s addicted. When he lays his head in your lap he’s literally always praying you’ll give him one.

Ø  Kiss or nip at his neck once you have him mostly relaxed and it’s over, you’re getting laid then and there.

Kurenai Yuhi

Giving

Ø  Queen of sensual massages. She’ll wind you up in .5 seconds

Ø  She’s got the experience to know exactly what to go for and how. She won’t really touch you if you’re not dating, but massages become a part of the regular routine with her. She loves putting her hands on you.

Ø  Can work in a relaxing genjutsu on you to make your surroundings more serene. Like think of a spa atmosphere and music but you’ll be in a genjutsu that will put you right next to the waterfall or by the beach.

Ø  Loves to follow up your massage by drawing you a nice bath, tbh it’s not just the massage it’s the whole experience with her. She loves pampering her s/o.

Ø  Uses aromatic oils every time, can create a scent specifically for you. Such a meditative experience. Tbh her whole presence is always just so calming.

Ø  Her massage style is a combination of using her nails, warm stones, and firm fingertip pressure.

Receiving

Ø  You might feel intimidated because of how high the bar is set with how she does massages, but Kurenai isn’t that picky as long as you’re gentle.

Ø  Please make sure your hands are properly lotioned up, she hates the feeling of rough hands on her body. You might even want to soak them beforehand.

Ø  Foot massages are her weakness. Give her one after a long day and she’ll be purring just for you.

Ø  Tbh work your way up her thighs in a slow and sensual fashion and Kurenai will be in the mood real quick. Her thighs are sensitive, so don’t overstimulate.

Ø  Her whole body is pretty sensitive? Again, be gentle with her. Always air on the side of too light versus too firm, firmness will turn her off.

Ø  She’ll show you how to use the oils and hot stones if you want, though she’s pretty simple in just liking plain massage oil.

Kiba Inuzuka

Giving

Ø  You are probably only getting a massage if he’s horny

Ø  Lots of nails, lots of tongue, gentle nips with his teeth. Your skin will be covered in love marks during your massage but he’s going to keep you on the edge until you’re practically begging for him.

Ø  Max skin-to-skin contact. You might be getting a massage, but his shirt is off and he’ll massage all the way down your back while you’re in his lap or while he’s making out with you from the front.

Ø  He doesn’t spend too long on the massage, to say the least. You get maybe thirty minutes tops before you’re completely naked.

Ø  But if you’re really in need of a massage, fine

he’ll calm his energetic self down and get to work. He’s a little rough with his hands but it feels pretty darn good anyway

Ø  Gives the best menstrual cramp massages somehow. Maybe it’s because he was raised by women, but he knows exactly how to handle that sort of pain. Plus, Kiba ain't the kind of man to neglect his partner.

Receiving

Ø  You touch this boy and he’s in the mood 0-100 real quick

Ø  If you can get him calm enough to give him a massage, He will be very vocal about how much he’s enjoying what you’re doing.

Ø  After a good massage he’ll literally do whatever you want him to do. If you need something from him, you just give him a massage and he’s all “yes dear”

Ø  Really get in on his lower back and his forearms. He gets the most tension in his back and his forearms really just feel nice.

Ø  He’ll never admit it, but man he loves glute massages. Will totally freak out the first time you try and will deny it every time, but once you’re together for long enough he’ll let you do it. Boi has a good booty anyway so it’s totally worth it.

Shino Aburame

Giving

Ø   Not really sure how to do a massage at first, the Aburame aren’t touchy-feely at all as a family. He’s probably the most touch-avoidant of the entire Konoha 12

Ø  He will give massages only to the person he’s dating. Single? You sore? Find a med-nin.

Ø  To his credit he follows directions to the T. Shino will do exactly as you instruct him, with just the exact pressure you specify. He’ll also do anywhere you ask. If you ask him for a more intimate area he’ll hesitate for a moment before acquiescing.

Ø  He doesn’t get creative with it, but he’ll remember exactly what you like.

Ø  His hands are nice and firm, he’s not shy about going for other areas either. Massages may not always be his preferred was of indicating his interest in taking things further, but he’ll definitely not miss the opportunity if he picks up on your mood.

Receiving

Ø  Shino will basically never ask for a massage, and you’ll probably only end up giving him one if you’re in the mood.

Ø  Be gentle please! His bikouju are sensitive to pressure and the slightest changes. The lighter your touch the better. He doesn’t mind, he actually likes just the sensation of your hands on him.

Ø  Use your nails around his hairline. Now that he’ll die for.

Ø  To rile up the stoic man use your lips on his neck and shoulders while you’re running your hands along his body. Hoo boy if you ever wanted to see Shino flustered and primed, there he is.

Ø  Touching is just so intimate for him in general, he never lets anyone touch him but the fact that you’re not only doing so but also in such an intimate way just shows how much he cares about you.

Hinata Hyuga

Giving

Ø  Step aside Neji, this is the massage queen of Konoha.

Ø  Everything Neji does she does 1000% better. She recognizes every reaction you have and will capitalize on it with perfect precision. It takes Neji a session to learn your body, Hinata probably has it mapped out in the first 10 minutes.

Ø  Definitely uses Byakugan to align your chakra, your chi, your spine, your tires, your life, Hinata is the human reset button for your body.

Ø  Definitely modest about how great she is at it, just wants you to know she’s doing it for you because she cares.

Ø  Everyone wants a massage from Hinata. Hinata only gives massages to people she’s incredibly close to, she’s too embarrassed to put her hands on someone she doesn’t know.

Ø  Hinata has a gentle touch, but be careful when you tell her to go firm because she doesn’t know how much is too much, she’ll crack your shoulder in half. But she’s an angel and it was awesome.

Receiving

Ø  She’ll be still as a statue the first few times you try to massage her, and you’ll need to go very slow. Pay attention to her comfort levels because she’s too timid to tell you otherwise. Do not pass go.

Ø  Her skin is really soft and it should go without saying that she prefers gentle over anything else. It doesn’t take a lot to get her to feel it.

Ø  Definitely appreciates menstrual massages, she gets really bad cramps. She’ll puppy-eye you for them but you know you’d be doing them anyway for her.

Ø  Look, straight up: Hinata has a big chest that weighs a lot on her back. The best areas to massage her will be her shoulder blades and her breasts (in a non-sexual manner.) Of course you can only do the latter while you’re dating, but despite how flustered she is know that it is such a relief. Be gentle with them, please. They’re breasts, not play-dough.

Ø  Breast massages don’t lead to more. Those are purely for her comfort and tbh it just never seems like the right time/mood while you’re doing it? Like you’re pretty much only doing it because she’s in serious discomfort and it seems insensitive to stop that just to hop on some hanky panky.

Ø  Massages can be very sensual with her, but that will have to be the mood before you go for it. But when you do get into it, it’s some of the best foreplay you’ve ever had.

[brendaonao3]

Re: that picture of Seb and Chris. I see your tags and raise you - Bucky who also wears glasses with his turtleneck/blazer combo.

Steve’s eyes started to blur behind his glasses as he stared hopelessly down at the papers strewn on the desk. He loved his job, he truly did, but grading essay finals when the subject was T.S. Eliot’s poetry was more or less like being asked to attend a lecture on bio-chemistry in Chinese. Just reading through some of the interpretations was definitely an exercise in his non-existent patience.

He looked around his tiny, cramped office, dominated by a battered oak desk that probably predated the school itself, every nook and cranny crammed with books and papers and more books, all lying haphazardly in precarious piles (he had a system – honestly, he did – no matter what his TA said to the contrary), then to the single, small, grungy window.  It was fully dark out.  Jeez, no wonder he felt so wiped – he’d worked straight through the afternoon and missed dinner. Again.

Next semester, he was totally putting in a better system for finals. Maybe make the students do an oral presentation or maybe a nice, boring, multiple choice test. Something that didn’t involve five-page essays and badly annotated footnotes.

He loosened his tie a little more so he could undo another button of his shirt. His tweed jacket had long since come off, and he’d rolled up his sleeves to just under his elbows in a fruitless effort at comfort. Granted, he could simply go home and change into a tee and sweats, and work from his own back porch, but he knew if he left, he’d faceplant right into bed. The worn, but very comfortable, sofa on the far wall already beckoned him with the promise of a quick nap to recharge his batteries.

The door groaned in protest as it opened, and Bucky – in his usual well-worn jeans and an equally well-worn tee – walked in, carrying a Styrofoam tray with three large cups, and a white bag practically dripping with grease. “Hey you, thought I’d bring reinforcements,” he greeted, holding up the tray. When he smiled, the corners of his remarkable blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

Steve wanted to lay his head down on his desk and weep in sheer gratitude. “Please tell me that’s coffee.”

“And almond croissants from the bodega you like,” Bucky confirmed, and set everything down on the one small corner of the desk that was miraculously free of debris. “When you didn’t show up for dinner, I figured you were still holed up in here like the hermity nerd you are.”

Steve winced, even though there was no censure in Bucky’s tone. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I totally spaced on the time.”

“Eh, sometimes being an adult means you can eat croissants for dinner and drink far too many extra foamy lattes.” He passed over one of the cups and Steve took off the lid, closing his eyes as he inhaled the heady combination of espresso and steamed milk. Already, he felt rejuvenated.

After the first, life-affirming sip, he opened his eyes to find Bucky had moved beside him, and was leaning against the desk. His gaze was sympathetic, and when he cupped Steve’s cheek in a roughened palm, Steve leaned into the warmth like a grateful cat. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Always a pleasure,” Bucky replied, and leaned down, Steve meeting him halfway.  The kiss was brief, but no less potent, the rough scrape of Bucky’s beard sending another surge of energy through Steve’s system. Maybe he’d forgo the coffee next time and skip right to making out with Bucky when he needed a pick-me-up.

Bucky glanced down at topmost stack of papers. “That’s a lot of red ink, babe.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure a few of my students are trolling me on purpose.”

“Can’t say I blame them. You are kinda hot when you get all worked up.”

Steve hid his blush by taking another sip of his latte.  "You’re biased.“

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”  Bucky thumbed through a few of the papers. Every time he moved his hands, his fingers brushed against Steve’s wrist, making the hairs on his arms rise. “You’ll have to let me guest-lecture again sometime.”

“Last time we did that, Fury threatened to fire us for inciting the students,” Steve replied, sounding a shade breathless, even to himself. He didn’t move his hand.

“Yeah, but it would have been worth it if he had.” Bucky’s eyes, warm and laughing and so very blue that it hurt to look at them, pierced beneath Steve’s skin to the core of him. What little breath he had left was lost in a white-hot rush.

Then Bucky twisted, bracing his hands on either side of the desk as he dropped to straddle Steve’s lap, the heat of him a living, breathing, hungry thing.

“Busco en mi carne las, huellas de tus labios…”

In some dim part of Steve’s brain that wasn’t overwhelmed by Bucky’s lips so close to his and Bucky’s earthy, metallic scent filling his senses and Bucky’s tightly coiled body pressed, hard and muscular, against his, he recognized the poem as one of Lorca’s. He didn’t think anyone would blame him for not remembering the exact one, especially since Bucky took that exact moment to flick his tongue, butterfly-quick, between Steve’s open lips and tilt his head for a truly exceptional kiss. Bucky tasted warm, like sunshine and summer, and Steve moaned against Bucky’s mouth, encouraging Bucky to take more and more.

He lost track of time, lost track of the room, of everything that wasn’t Bucky. He felt, as he always did when Bucky touched him, thoroughly possessed, his brain fogging right along with his glasses. Bucky kissed Steve with his entire body, angled his head to them even closer and nibble at Steve’s lips, before diving in for another taste. All Steve could do was curl his tongue around Bucky’s, and grab onto Bucky’s shoulders tight to let him know whatever he was doing, it was more than welcome.

When Bucky finally pulled back, it took Steve several deep breaths in order to find his voice. “What was that for?”

Bucky just smiled, wide and wicked, his lips attractively bruised and red from Steve’s.  "I can’t just want to kiss my best guy?“

"Sure, but if you keep this up, then we’re never getting home,” Steve pointed out.

Bucky waggled his brows.  "Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had sex on the sofa.“

”Buck...“

"Alright, I’m moving,” Bucky said, then stood, and snagged one of the croissants from the bag.  "You want some help with those?“

Steve was tempted, but he shook his head. "I’ve only got six left. I’m good.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky told him. “If I leave you, you’ll stay all night, and the bed’s much too big without you taking up all the space.”

“You wouldn’t have to steal the covers if you slept alone.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Typical Bucky, Steve thought, fondly. “Fine, you can stay, but you have to sit on the sofa. I can’t think when you’re this close. It’s distracting.”

“Flattery will get you all the sex later,” Bucky replied, and leaned in for another kiss.  Steve reveled in the heat and closeness for a few long moments, before he made himself stop.  "Buck, come on, I’m serious.“

"Alright, alright, I’m moving,” Bucky said, and grabbed the book under the tray.  "I need to brush up on Akhmatova before tomorrow’s lecture anyway.“

Steve squinted at the title. "You’re reading her in the original Russian?”

Bucky gave him a horrified look.  "Damn right I am.  The English translations are all terrible.  My freshmen students could do a better job.“

"Of course you’d say that,” Steve said, with another fond smile.

“Unlike you, my students are all awesome.”  Bucky gave him a wink and patted his cheek before moving to the sofa.

Steve looked at him for a moment – sprawled on the cushions, nose already buried in the pages, dark hair falling around his face – and smiled to himself before bending back to his papers.

***

[redvsvblue]

I mean, I'm still totally obsessed with demon au so. Either any of the things you may have planned, or maybe Jeremy asking Ryan to keep his dick unglamoured as he sucks him off?

Well, I’m not sure which of my planned things I want to share first, so I went with your prompt and - this happened. More demon AU with more detailed demon dick (hey, alliteration!). 

Thank you for prompting! I hope you like it! 

“Well,well, if it isn’t my favourite human.”

Thevoice appears before Ryan does, and Jeremy just raises an eyebrow atthe column of smoke that bursts in the middle of the circle. It fadesaway to reveal Ryan, arms crossed and hip cocked out.

“Favourite?”He asks. “Nice try, flattery won’t work.”

“Aw,Jeremy, come on, give a guy some credit.” Ryan flashes him a sharpgrin and teleports to his side, leaning against the wall on oneshoulder and casually crossing his legs at the ankle. “I wouldn’tlie to you like that.”

“Yesyou would.”

Ryanshrugs, unbothered, and rakes his eyes suggestively up and downJeremy.

“Whatchaneed?”

“Needthe garden cleaned up,” Jeremy says. Ryan gives him a bored glareand Jeremy puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s not me! Myparents are coming round!”

“Lazy,”Ryan accuses gently.

“Hey,I busted my ass cleaning the kitchen this morning,” Jeremy says,jerking his chin to said kitchen. “They decided to drop in on asurprise visit.”

Ryansighs and drums his fingers against his elbow.

“Whenare they coming?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Hm.Anything else?”

“No.”

Ryanlooks him over again and smirks.

“Ithink we could strike up a deal,” he says. He shifts so he’sleaning his back against the wall, grinning wide when Jeremyautomatically moves in front of him.

“Ijust need shit trimmed down,” Jeremy says, stepping closer. “Someweeding.”

“I’lleven toss in some flowers for ya,” Ryan says. Jeremy stares himdown for a moment before nodding and shifting to sink to his knees.Ryan bends his legs a little and reaches down to curl a hand overJeremy’s shoulder as Jeremy leans in to rest his cheek againstRyan’s jean-covered thigh.

Jeremynoses over the crease of hip and thigh and mouths lazily over to thesoft bulge in Ryan’s jeans, grinning when he feels it harden underhis touch. Ryan huffs out a pleased noise and Jeremy spends anothermoment nuzzling into denim. Something pops into his head –something he’s been thinking about ever since last time, and, well.It’s not like he hasn’t been curious about Ryan’s demonform.

“Canyou - “ he swallows and shifts so his voice isn’t muffled. “Canyou keep it – without the glamour?”

Ryan’sbreath hitches sharply and his fingers flex on Jeremy’s shoulder.

“Kinky,”he comments, and Jeremy ignores how his cheeks burn. Fucking sue him,he’s interested, okay?

“Youwant this or not?” Jeremy mutters. Ryan laughs quietly and Jeremyfeels something shift against his cheek – he turns to presshis lips to it and Ryan sighs.

Jeremypulls back to undo Ryan’s jeans, popping the button before –there’s a quick mental debate that’s settled by the strong waveof fuck it – before leaning in and using his teeth to dragdown the zipper. Ryan gives him a small groan for his trouble, thatintense gaze again locked on him.

Ryanhelpfully lifts his hips to let the jeans fall down a little, andJeremy hesitates for only a moment before sliding the briefs down,too, exposing  - well, exposing Ryan, completely unglamoured.

Thefirst thing that strikes Jeremy is how red it is, and the nextis the series of ridges he had felt before, all down the length andgradually fading into a smooth base. And then, nearly poking atJeremy’s cheek, the head, a slightly lighter shade of red andsmooth all over.

Hischeeks cramp with the rush of spit and no, he doesn’t want to talkabout how apparently he’s now hot for demons. It’s anunexpected twist in his life.

Jeremyswallows thickly and curiously wraps his hand around the shaft, pokesthe head with his lips to find it just as weirdly soft and oddlyspongy.

“What,uh – is there – is there anything I should know?” Jeremy asks,pressing his tongue against the slit. Ryan tilts his head and narrowshis eyes at Jeremy, a slow smirk ticking up one side of his mouth.

“Well,y’don’t have to worry ‘bout teeth,” he drawls, rolling hiships up to rub against Jeremy’s mouth yet.”

“Whatdoes that mean?”

“MeansI’m into it.”

Jeremyreally shouldn’t be surprised – literal demon – but hiseyes still snap up to Ryan’s as he sucks in a breath. Ryan laughs,smug and satisfied like he knows exactly how Jeremy’s bodyis reacting to this new information. One specific part of hisbody. The dick part.

“Kinky,”he says. Ryan chuckles and rests his other hand on Jeremy’s head,stroking his thumb just above his ear.

“Demon,”he reminds him, and lifts his hips impatiently.

Jeremydrops his eyes back to Ryan’s cock, rubs a thumb over the ridgeswhile he gathers himself.

Thehead is even more unnerving when it’s halfway between Jeremy’slips, surprisingly malleable and – squishy. Jeremy triesletting his teeth scrape against it and Ryan groans encouragingly,his hips twitching forward. Jeremy maps out the ridges with histongue as he sinks lower, finds it hard to keep his teeth in checkwhen the ridges slide against them with every aborted thrust.

Ryangrunts and Jeremy stops when the head presses up to his throat,hollowing out his cheeks as he pulls back up, idly admiring the shineof spit on the ridges. He spends a few seconds licking over theflushed head before going back down – and he knew Ryan ran hot butgod his dick is the hottest part, almost uncomfortablywarm against Jeremy’s fingers where he grips around the base.

Oncehe’s got the first few circuits down, tracing out the ridges on theunderside and figuring out that if he sucks solely on the head Ryanmakes a harsh, guttural sound and his fingers dig harder intoJeremy’s shoulder, Jeremy starts consciously relaxing his throat,loosening his jaw to accommodate the girth. Ryan gasps and rips hishand away from Jeremy’s head so he doesn’t push - Jeremy rewardshis restraint with another slow, hard suck, deliberately making eyecontact as he does.

Ryansettles his hand over Jeremy’s head again, his warm fingersslotting in behind his ear. Jeremy blinks and closes his eyes as hebegins sliding down, this time letting the head push into his throatand continuing until his eyes water and his lips tighten aroundsmooth skin, his nose brushing against the decidedly very softcurls of hair around the base – what fucking conditioner is Ryanusing for that? – and then Jeremy wonders briefly if that’s ademon thing or a Ryan thing.

Heswallows until he chokes and pulls off to cough, quickly returningonce he’s recovered. Ryan moans low above him and Jeremy runs histhumb up the underside as he sucks on the first few inches, lettingspit drool down over his fingers and the ridges. Somethingsurprisingly bitter bursts over his tongue and Jeremy pops offwith a grimace, swallowing to dispel the taste.

“Sorry,sorry,” Ryan pants – Jeremy watches another drop of clear slickooze out of the slit and mix with saliva. “Happens when I’mclose. I can – I can hide it - “

“No– no,” Jeremy says, somewhat hesitantly, but this time he steelshimself before leaning in to lick up the next drop. “Jus’unexpected.”

Jeremyglances up at Ryan, at where his glamour’s fallen away to revealburning eyes and horns – the tail hasn’t appeared yet, but Jeremyknows it’s only a matter of time. The taste of Ryan’s slick fadesquickly enough, and Jeremy decides it’s not really that bad, hejust truly wasn’t expecting it to be so bitter.

Ryangroans openly when Jeremy gets back on his dick, humming for thevibration and brushing his teeth over an especially prominent ridgeto feel Ryan shudder, something akin to a whine slipping out. Thenoise hurtles Jeremy back to the last time, when he had Ryan moaningand whimpering below him, and a certain heady memory smacks him rightwhere it counts – Jeremy would smirk if he could, but instead hesucks harder to try and provoke the reaction he wants.

Ryanmoans raggedly and Jeremy scrapes his teeth up the length, and amoment later something swats against his hip and he reaches over tograb the tail half-curled around Ryan’s thigh – it unwinds forhim, instead coiling around his wrist, and Jeremy slides his hand upand around to the base, working the head of Ryan’s cock into histhroat the same time he tightens his grip and tugs, and Ryan’sstartled demonspeak moan makes him throb in his jeans.

Jeremytimes his pulls with his teeth, and in no time he’s got Ryan’svoice all over the place, whining behind gritted teeth and thendropping to spit out curses in demonspeak, pitching wildly betweenhuman and demon as he visibly struggles not to thrust up intoJeremy’s mouth. His tail curls tight around Jeremy’sforearm, encouraging him to tug more, and Jeremy happily obliges,alternating between hard sucks and soft scrapes of his teeth as heworks Ryan over.

Ryan’shead tips back against the wall with a dull thump and a harshgrowl rips from his throat, tinged with demonspeak and oddly loud inJeremy’s living room – still, Jeremy tucks his teeth behind someridges and Ryan shakes, more slick bursting out over Jeremy’stongue and sliding bitterly down his throat. With another rough pullon his tail, Ryan’s jaw drops open and he comes, swallowing down awhimper as he comes down Jeremy’s throat – not as bitter butterribly metallic, and Jeremy ignores it as best he can whilehe helps Ryan through it, playing with the tail while Ryan holds himin place.

EventuallyRyan goes slack and Jeremy withdraws his hands and pops off, wipinghis mouth with the back of his hand as he sits back on his heels.Ryan urges him up and the tail curls around Jeremy’s arm again,helping tug him in as Ryan’s hands fist in Jeremy’s shirt. Jeremystops just before their lips can touch and Ryan makes a soft,pathetic noise, nudging his nose against Jeremy’s.

“No,”Jeremy whispers, and Ryan noses more deliberately at him, shifting topress a sloppy kiss to his cheek instead, smack kisses down his jaw.Jeremy shivers and Ryan runs his hands down Jeremy’s sides,cradling his hips while the tail wraps around his waist and squeezesgently.

Ryandoesn’t touch him below the belt, not at all, and a couple ofminutes later he pulls away from Jeremy’s neck, leaving Jeremyhalf-dazed and completely hard in his jeans. He rakes a hand throughhis hair and everything gradually flickers back to human, the taildisappearing from sight and even his cock morphing into human.

“Y’neverfucking reciprocate,” Jeremy grumbles good-naturedly, because foronce he’s not too ashamed to let Ryan know how fucking much heloves all this shit. Probably because he’s too turned on to evengive the slightest fuck right now.

“Younever gave me permission,” Ryan says, tucking himself back into hisjeans and glancing up at Jeremy, who blinks stupidly in response. Oh.Of course.

“Pleasedo,” he blurts out – winces at his own eagerness, but the momentthe words leave his mouth Ryan’s reaching for him, unbuttoning hisjeans and mouthing at his jaw again, all of it happening so fast itleaves Jeremy dizzy and he clutches uselessly at Ryan’s arms whileRyan gets his dick out, wrapping his hot, clever fingersaround it.

Jeremygroans and Ryan’s lips trail down to his neck as his hand startsstroking, and then something hotter coils around Jeremy and heglances down to see – to see the fucking tail, wrappedaround him and sliding up and down in time with Ryan’s hand. Andholy fuck, Jeremy’s got it way too bad for thisdemon. He buries his face in Ryan’s shoulder and shudders at thehot scrape of scruff and teeth over his jugular while Ryan’s handand tail rub him all over, his thumb dragging over the wetslit and the tip of the tail tapping over it every few strokes. Itdoesn’t take fucking long at all for him to come, gripping hard atRyan’s biceps and groaning into his shoulder as he comes betweenthem, Ryan’s hand unrelenting and incredible, each quicktwist sending shivers up Jeremy’s spine.

Ryanmurmurs something but Jeremy doesn’t hear it, his hips jolting upas he becomes too sensitive, chasing pleasure but inhaling sharply atthe tingle of pain. He pants into Ryan’s shirt and Ryan pulls away,taking a moment to gently tuck him back in before his hands settle onJeremy’s hips again and his mouth works at the base of Jeremy’sneck, just above his collar. Jeremy comes down gradually, looseninghis grip on Ryan’s arms and his panting evening out into normalbreathing.

“Fuck,”Jeremy spits when he pulls away, rubbing a hand over his head. “Fuck,Ryan.”

Ryan,for one, looks pleased as punch, his mouth wet and pink from all thekissing but definitely something smug in the cross of his arms.Jeremy opens his mouth to say something else and his tongue worksuselessly while he tries to remember what it was.

“Garden?”Ryan provides, and Jeremy blinks – how had he forgotten? –and nods stupidly.

“Garden,”he says. Ryan snaps his fingers.

“Evenput in new perennials,” he says. “Hope you like blue.”

Andthen, quicker than Jeremy would like, he teleports back to thesummoning circle. Jeremy turns to face him, rubbing a hand awkwardlyover the back of his neck.

“Thanks,”he says – it feels awkward, thanking a demon – after all,it’s not like they’re benevolent creatures, but Ryan justsmirks.

“Thankyou, Jeremy,” he says, and disappears in smoke.

Jeremystands there for an odd moment before shaking away any stray thoughtsand rubbing out part of the circle before heading back to the kitchento finish cleaning.

He’sso out of it that he doesn’t even notice the mark until he’swashing his hands in the bathroom a few hours later, and the momenthe spies that dark little hickey halfway up his fucking neckhe curses loudly and slams the tap off, leaning in towards the mirroras he rubs his fingers uselessly over it. As predicted, it doesnothing, and Jeremy glares at it in the mirror. The fucker.Another thing he’ll have to hide from his parents, along with thebroken kitchen cupboard.

Hehuffs out an irritable sigh and makes a note to buy some cover-up forit. Glares at the ground.

“Fuckyou, Ryan.”

[o-antiva]

Charity

Greagoir let him out of the tower once. While the templars stripped him, searched him, and re-dressed him in robes they brought for him, so that he wouldn't hide a pick-- like he had done last time-- Greagoir circled him and told him in nasal tones how he squandered his gifts. A Spirit Healer possessed rare talents. The power of life. Yet Anders turned his back on the Maker with his disobedience. A lazy student. Selfish. Petulant.

Anders had stood there naked but for the ring in his ear. He'd just laughed, hands on his hips, daring and insolent. He said: "And do tell me, Knight-Commander, how is it that my talent is held back when you never let me leave here? Am I to lavish the Maker's blessings on every paper-cut in the archives? Someone stubbing his toe? A bit of bad elbow-- and rubbing a little raw?"

A templar threw balled-up robes at his chest, but he preferred to stand nude and smile.

Enchanter Wynne came into the chamber and frowned at him, deeply unimpressed. "There is a woman in the village who needs our care. I'll deliver the baby, and you will assist."

"Are my hands to be chained the entire time?" He'd asked. "That will surely put her to ease."

The templars rowed them across, Anders in hobbles, and Wynne staring out across the lake. Rumor said she'd had a child once, that she'd barely held it before they ripped it from her. Looking back, Anders wondered how she found the strength to go on, and even more, to help other women in that way. But at the time all he thought of were his own problems. Karl sounded strange in his last letter. Surana had made a friend of the handsome and innocent new templar. And there were hushed reports of strange creatures seen on the surface, dark things, things that bubbled up from the Deep Roads below...

A young woman and a goat awaited them in the village. She was astride a buckskin stallion that pitched back and forth, stamping its hoof. A beautiful woman, fierce, with a mass of impossibly curly gold ringlets. She was dressed like a farmhand, like a man. The goat was a long-eared brown-and-red type, and it munched a stand of weeds whilst eyeing them sidelong. A young man in the colors of the bann came riding up, then, on a flecked gray horse; he must have been one of the bann's sons, or in the retinue, a dark-skinned fellow of mixed Rivain and Fereldan heritage.

"Noreen's still holding on-- we see a foot," the woman called to them. "Mage! Can you ride?"

Anders found himself bundled up on the woman's horse, and she spurred the stallion through a breakneck gallop and jump through all Honnleath. Anders thought he would surely die. Wynne showed much more horsemanship with the young Barris and the gray mare. At the end of it, horrified, especially with his ankles chained together, he was brought before a thatch-roofed cottage where a number of villagers clustered about in a muddy courtyard.

The goat trotted up without a care.

Mia hauled him down and set him to rights. "Your life flash before your eyes?" she'd said to him, and he'd given a laugh of false bravado. For a moment he'd thought he'd seen her somewhere, but a woman's scream took his attention.

Noreen had been in labor since the night before. The babe hadn't flipped in the womb, and it wanted to come out sideways if at all. Wynne glided into the scene with wisdom and compassion, and she'd spread out her calfskin tool roll and the contents of her basket. She bade Anders to boil water, and she'd asked nearly all others present to leave the little cottage.

The reality of the situation hit him full, and he felt the woman's terror, her pain. He had learned all the technicalities of childbirth, the physical process, the remedies. The cramping. The tearing. The entire constellation of agonizing consequences. He'd seen a few pregnancies in the tower-- one he feared now and again he might be responsible for-- but this was the first time he'd assisted a birth, to be there, to help her.

The midwife sponged the woman's head, looked up, and asked, "You'll do it, then?" And also, "Must he be here?"

Wynne had answered, gently, "Yes, I've done it a dozen times before," and also, "Young Frederick is my apprentice. He can be naughty, as you see, but he has a good heart, and he is the most talented healer we've had in ages."

Anders nearly knocked his head on the beams as he came back in to hear that. He'd hardly recalled a word of praise, but he knew she meant it. Wynne frustrated him-- kindly but aloof, with a tragic past, who had every reason to resent the control of the tower but never seemed to want a change for the better. Anders hadn't wanted his gifts. He'd only wanted to go home.

The enchanter cued him with a nod, and he went to Noreen's side, shuffling that way as best he could. It was more awkward given his height, but he had no care of that now. As soon as he laid his hand upon her head, the pain came away, and Noreen gasped with relief. Anders felt the spirits hovering around them, unseen, whispering about just beyond the veil. Lake Calenhad and its environs were old places, holy places, sacred to the wild people and their gods. The spirits here took animal form, when they manifested at all, and Anders had the sense of female creatures pressing in around them.

He had the impression of a cow, broad-faced, wet-nosed, a kindly mother from the ginger cattle native to this land.

Please help her, Anders thought.

The child couldn't be pushed out now. The time for that had gone. Wynne knew a way to help, a method the Tevinters named for one of their archons. Wynne told the woman what she wanted to do, and how it would help, and Noreen nodded through tears. Just do it. Be done with it. There was only one way now to go.

Wynne took the knife from her tool roll and heated the blade in her hand. Anders brushed sweat-damp hair off Noreen's face, talked softly to her, and let his healing flow through.

In minutes, Noreen was delivered of a girl, a child with a full head of black hair, squalling at the top of her lungs.

Anders thought of the ginger cow, her long thick neck bended down, her flat muzzle snuffled to the woman's hair. Thank you, he thought, eyes shut. Thank you for helping her.

Wynne and Anders left the woman a scar. A slight scar. Just enough for her body to remember. In the thatched-roof cottage, in the room with the bloody bed, Anders felt peace, a new purpose, wanting to do this and nothing else. The hobbles weighed now more than ever. What if he promised to stay here in the village? What if he didn't go? What if people brought their sick here, their wounded? Sometimes they brought their casualties to Kinloch, when their need was great, but so many died in the crossing. What would it hurt if he stayed here or in some village?

Later, in the rowboat, Anders broke the silence. "I want to be a healer," he said. "I want to stay in a village."

Weary, Wynne had only looked at him and said, "Frederick... "

"I promise to stay there. They can rotate the templars. Fresh air-- a village." He reached across and laid a hand on her hand. "Wynne. There was a mage living in that village, Wilhelm. Why can he stay there, with his wife?"

"Wilhelm fought in the war with Orlais. He has a dispensation from the king."

"So he can tinker with his artifacts. Fuck about with his little projects. For what use? Wynne, I could heal those people! Anyone they brought. No cost. I felt the spirits there, wanting to help... "

Wynne only sighed, and Anders pressed, desperate now: "It's not fair he was favorite of the king. Is there a law, or isn't there? The Chantry tells us the Maker wants us shut up in our towers, but is the word of the king greater than that of God?"

When she said nothing in the few seconds he allotted her, Anders rushed out, "They even say there's a mage in Lothering, a healer, a runaway from the Marches. Not to mention what else they say of him! Is he above the law then also? Why?"

"I've heard of Malcolm," Wynne told him. "He has a Grey Warden dispensation, and the local templars watch him. I know that you're upset, but in time, you'll come to understand... "

He never would. He never would see her way. After everything had happened, he was told she was killed in the broken circle, throwing her body to shield the apprentices. But he'd seen her alive, somehow, in Amaranthine, a weird sheen to her eyes, but no other clue. She met him kindly, cordially, as he stood there in his new blue uniform. He healed the injured in Amaranthine then, tended their sick.

"Better than the Deep Roads," he'd told Justice, when they sat together under the spreading branches of an oak. "I don't know why we even bother. Blight's done with."

And Justice intoned, in that deep hollow voice from the chest, "It is your duty, so you must do it."

"It is your duty, so you must do it," Anders mocked in a tinny voice. A fly landed on Anders' forehead. He brushed it away with the hand that held the forceps. "Rubbish."

He was suturing Kristoff's arm back to Kristoff's shoulder. The meat was falling off the bone these days, so it fit wrong, ball-and-socket. "That's your problem, Justice," he said. "You've no imagination."

"The Wardens are sworn to defend against the Blight," the spirit told him in words that carried. They sounded made of bronze, deep, powerful. The eyes were glazed over, like three-day fish, but there was a light kindled beneath them, weird and unreal.

"The Blight which is over, you know, by the way." Anders made his stitches small and neat. His healing magic had no power over flesh that was dead, so he made do as he could, to keep his friend together. "There will always be more darkspawn."

Justice said nothing.

"Does this hurt you?" Anders peered over his shoulder.

No answer, and Anders told him, "I just want to help. I know-- I know I'm a shit, like Nathaniel says. But I just. Fuck. I'm always doing what other people want me to. Go here, do this. The tower, and now Tabris. I want to be my own man. No one telling me anything."

Justice moved the arm of the body he inhabited. There wasn't so great a range of motion. He was declining in every way. "This will do," he said.

Anders waved away the flies, and set aside his suture kit. Sighing, he laid a hand on the shoulder, felt the give beneath his hand. "If I ran way," he said quietly. "You'd say nothing, wouldn't you? I can twiddle my thumbs here.. or I could do real good elsewhere. I'd travel, heal people."

The gray head turned toward him, the eyes staring dully at him from their deep sockets, the flesh drawn tight around them. "This is your duty."

"It's what I was given to do," Anders replied.

After the longest time, staring at each other, the flies around them, Anders said, softly, "You could come with me."