#fan fact i almost forgot to put his tattoo in a arms because i was so focused on the rendering

[sov666sov]

All his clothes are soaked and he doesn’t like it 💀

(idk about scene like imagine whatever you like)

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P.S. print in the second t-shirt it a Ukrainian meme what i can translate like simple "go fuck yourself" (which is suit for ghost I think)

[pan-fangirl-345]

Hidden Panthers

Summary: Soulmarks aren't rare, and neither are soulmates, but what is rare, is a person who doesn't want to meet their soulmate, but Toho Academy has two.

Or: Five times Aomine was curious about your tattoo, and one time he saw it.

TW: a small amount of angst, I suppose one part might be comparable to a panic attack, and some swearing, but I promise it's mostly fluff.

A/N: I had an idea! Since I have no requests currently in my inbox, I thought I would jot it down before I forgot about it.

1.

"You guys do realize that you should be practicing, right?" you asked when you walked into the gym and the boys were all shirtless, showing off their soulmarks.

"They're trying to prove who's is the biggest," Momoi informed you, making you snort.

You were almost one hundred percent certain that you had them all beat, except for maybe Aomine.

Your soulmark was a special image somewhere on your body, and animal, a place, something like that. They were colorful, and looked like tattoos.

The mark on your body corresponded with the one on your soulmate's body.

You knew that Aomine had your matching tattoo, not that he knew that, and that was okay.

The black ink of his tattoo was stark against his tan skin, but you knew that he wasn't showing it off with pride, it was him just proving a point.

Top dog on the team, biggest soulmark, he was unbeatable.

Aomine had made it clear that he didn't appreciate the thought of soulmates, that he was fine with not knowing who they were, not knowing who you were, in your case.

"What's yours (Y/L/N)-kun?" one of the boys asked and you snorted, a hand flying to cover your mouth, sometimes you hated hanging around teenage boys all the time, it made your mind go to weird places sometimes.

"Sorry boys, you don't want to see my mark, trust me," you muttered, touching your shoulder softly.

Aomine's eyes were on you, burning a hole through your body, but you ignored him.

"What is it?"

"None ah," you said.

"None ah?"

"None ah ya business," you replied, dropping your bag by the bench.

The boys peeled off into laughter, and Momoi gave a small giggle.

You smiled softly, tugging your sweatshirt off.

The boys were getting to practice, though Aomine was still watching you, watching you with those startling blue eyes.

"Are you going to practice or are you going to just stare at me like a creep?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nah," he muttered, moving to head out the door, but you moved in front of him.

"Nope, you're here," you told him, throwing your arms out. "If you're here, you're practicing, even if that means you have to practice with me."

Aomine squinted at you, and you were 99% certain that he was going to try and shove you out of the way, but he sighed, heading back to work in drills with the other boys.

Momoi was watching you, eyes glinting in the way they did when she watching a game and her data was proved correct.

"Momoi-san," you said, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's just a hunch," she murmured, wandering off to watch Aomine play.

You frowned after her, wondering what the hell she was talking about, but you shook it off.

Those two were weirdos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2.

"So, (Y/L/N), what's your soulmark?" one of your friends asked, and you sighed.

"It's nothing all that impressive," you lied, flipping the page of the textbook you were skimming through.

"But what is it?" she persisted.

"A pain in my ass," you muttered, touching your shoulder lightly again.

"(Y/L/N)-kun," one of your classmates said, "one of the basketball boys is waiting for you outside."

"Thanks," you replied, gathering your stuff up.

You were a back-up manager for when Momoi was away watching other teams play.

You were surprised to find Aomine leaning up against the doorframe, practice clothes on.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself. Are you actually going to practice again?" you asked, hauling your bag over your shoulder, wincing at the weight.

He made a small noise, which made you think that that was his version of a yes.

"Why don't you show off your mark?" Aomine asked.

"Why don't you?" you replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Soulmates are bullshit," he muttered. "I don't like being told what to do. I hate being told who to love even more."

"My soulmate doesn't want me," you admitted after a moment of walking, readjusting your bag on your shoulders. "No point in showing off something that symbolizes someone who hates that I even exist."

Aomine paused, running his eyes over you again, and you glanced back at him.

"What?"

He didn't answer, he just stood there watching you. He had been doing that a lot, and you were a little worried about it.

"Are you coming or what?" you asked, heading for the gym.

He followed behind you, eyes boring into your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3.

"What's your soulmark?" Aomine asked.

You had gone to the roof to tell him to get his ass to practice. He had been coming more and more often, but he had been staring at you for most of it, despite urging from both you and Momoi to actually practice.

"Nothing important, not like you practicing," you deflected, standing in front of him with your arms crossed.

"Snippy," he quipped. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Perv," you muttered. "And I've already seen your mark."

"Yours is on your shoulders, right?" he asked. "You keep touching them whenever someone brings them up."

"Yeah, it's a pretty big one," you admitted, reaching to touch your shoulder absentmindedly before you registered that you were doing it. You dropped your hands to your sides again, frowning.

Despite the fact that you already knew your soulmate, and how he felt about the whole thing, the mark was still comforting to a degree.

Aomine was still watching you, he had been doing it a lot, though you weren't entirely sure why. Every time he did, it jump started your heart, making you wonder if he knew.

He made a small noise, then dragged himself to his feet.

"Gotta go to practice," he mumbled, bumping shoulders with you as he headed down to the gym.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4.

Aomine started appearing more and more after that. He wasn't following you exactly, but it was almost like your schedules had overlapped.

Then you had gotten assigned to do a group project together.

"Nice place," he muttered when he walked through the door into your home.

"Thanks," you said, shutting the door. "I'm telling you this right now, Aomine, I am not doing this entire project by myself, and if I do end up doing it by myself, you are not getting your name put on this. Do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'am," he muttered. "Do you have any bread?"

"What?" you asked, then you remembered his weird carb obsession. "Uh, yeah, just . . . give me a minute," you said, setting your things down on the couch before you headed into the kitchen.

Snacks were something you could do.

You got him a drink too, and when you set a plate and a drink down in front of him, he glanced up at you appreciatively.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," you told him, sitting beside him on the couch.

"What are we doing the project on?" he asked.

"I have no idea," you muttered. "It would be easy to do a keynote or something, but there are going to be so many people doing that."

You pulled the project requirements out of your bag, your eyes flitting over it.

"What if we did like a . . . a soulmark examination?" you asked. "We were reading a book about how people think soulmarks mean something to the pair that share it instead of simply being an indicator, right? All we would have to do it take a picture of one of our soulmarks and make up some sort of metaphorical bullshit and make it look pretty when we present it."

"We should do yours," Aomine immediately suggested.

"Why mine?" you asked, panic starting to float into your veins.

"Because I want to know what it is," he replied, grinning at you.

"How about we do yours? You have your own fan club and I'm sure they'd be ecstatic to know what it is. Besides, yours is easier to do than mine," you told him.

"How so?"

"Mine is across my back," you informed him. "That means that I would have to take off my shirt and my bra for us to get a picture, and there are so many things that could go wrong with that. Besides, it's not like anyone in the class hasn't seen your back already, it's not new information."

"Fair enough," Aomine said. "But, when I get fakers pretending to be my soulmate, you have to be the one to fight them off."

"Deal," you said, holding your hand out to him.

He took it, shaking it firmly once, before he tugged his shirt over his head.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered, curling his shoulders forward so that you could get a clear picture of the black panther lounging across his shoulders like it was a tree branch.

You snapped a couple photos from different angles, and resisted the urge to touch it.

It was the same as yours, and you wondered vaguely if you had ever found your tattoo as beautiful as you found Aomine's.

"We good?" Aomine asked.

"Yeah, we're good," you croaked, then cleared your throat as he pulled his shirt over his head again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5.

Your project had gotten a great grade, and you were both proud of it, but now Aomine seemed to be hellbent on figuring out what your mark was.

"Just show me!" he'd whined.

He'd been up on the roof again, and you had been charged with getting him off the roof and down to practice.

"No, Aomine. Now get off your ass and get down to practice," you told him, arms crossed.

You had been in this position for the past couple of weeks, and it was almost routine now.

"I won't even be a dick about it," he had promised you, his eyes looking almost sincere as he pleaded with you. Almost.

Aomine, you had learned, had adopted you as a friend, in the last few weeks of being stuck around him.

You and Momoi had started walking to class together, and Aomine had started trailing behind like a lazy guard dog, much to the chagrin of Momoi's many suitors.

"He really likes you," Momoi said one morning.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, chuckling.

"He hasn't liked someone like this in a while," Momoi told you. "He's a long time basketball junkie, so seeing him take an interest in someone that doesn't have much of a connection to the game is a relief to me."

"Momoi, I thought we agreed that you wouldn't profile me," you told her, giving her a small smile.

"I can't help it," she whined, taking a hold of your arm. "You have to tell him (Y/F/N)!"

"Sorry Momoi-san, I can't do that," you replied. "He doesn't want that."

"How do you know if you won't tell him?" she asked, pouting.

"Momoi-san, he's made his stance on soulmates exceedingly clear, and he likes me now because he doesn't know. I want it to stay that way. I'd rather be a friend than anything else. Besides, he doesn't like me like that," you informed her.

"I've been friends with him since we were kids," she said, glancing at you with those eyes. "I think I know when he's interested in a girl."

You snorted, but your conversation tapered off when Aomine joined you again.

"Seriously, what the hell is your soulmark?" Aomine demanded. "I have asked literally everyone I can think of that might know. No one in this entire fucking school seems to know what it is."

"Sorry Aomine," you said, slipping into your classroom, throwing a grin over your shoulder at him. "A girl needs to keep her secrets, besides, you aren't the only one with a soulmark thing."

His growl resonated into the classroom and you chuckled lightly as you sat down at your desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+1

Of course, the one time the teams tries to do some team bonding they chose to go to the fucking beach.

Of course, Aomine had also been the one to suggest the beach. The others thought it was because he wanted to see girls in bikini's, but he had glanced at you and winked.

He wanted to see what your mark was.

"I hate you," you snarled, cornering him, before he left for his house. "You scheming son of a bitch."

"Such vulgar words," he teased, giving you a dark look. "And I have no idea what I could've done to make you hate me, baby girl."

"You know exactly what you did," you growled, ignoring the pet name. "The whole beach thing was your idea."

He grinned, and you suddenly understood why your mark was a panther.

Something flashed through you, and your let your own grin show through.

"You want to play games Aomine-kun?" you teased, keeping eye contact with him. "Fine, then let's play."

"What do I get if I win?" he asked.

"You'll have to choose that for yourself, if you win," you told him, storming out of the doors.

When the day came to go to the beach, nothing was out of the ordinary, save that the boys had decided that one of them had to be with you and Momoi at all times.

"You guys don't need to babysit us," you chided when you climbed onto the bus. "We tend to stick together anyway, and pervs, unless they're in groups, tend to pick the girl that splits away from the pack. Momoi-san and I can stick together and reduce the risk. This is more for you guys than it is for us anyway."

"Yeah, we don't need a guard dog," Momoi agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll stay with them," Aomine offered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and Momoi's, and you rolled your eyes.

"You just want to know what my soulmark is," you told him, glancing up at him.

"Wait," Sakurai murmured, "even Aomine doesn't know what your soulmark is?"

"Nope," you said, popping the 'p'. "He's been trying to figure it out for weeks now. That's why he suggested going to the beach."

"You clever son of a bitch," the captain said, and you shrugged.

"He and I have a small little wager going," you admitted, shrugging his arm off your shoulders. "If I can keep my soulmark hidden from him for the whole day today, he drops it."

"And if he wins?"

"She's being cryptic about that," Aomine said, and his eye twitched lightly.

"If he sees it, he can decide what he gets for winning," you told them. "He'll understand if he sees it."

And so the game began.

"Are you going swimming, (Y/F/N)?" Momoi asked you.

"Are you?" you asked her.

"No, I want to work on my tan," she admitted, waving a small bottle of tanning lotion.

"Then I'll stay with you. I have some reading I need to catch up on anyway. Besides, I want the sunscreen to sink in, I burn easily," you admitted, having applied it as soon as you got to the beach.

You were wearing a one-piece bathing suit (since it was harder for something to happen with one on), but you had thrown a thin white crop top on over it to cover your shoulders.

After Momoi asked you to get her back, you settled onto your towel, pulling your assigned literature book out of your bag, finding your page.

"Seriously, why don't you just show us what the damn thing is?" Aomine asked, settling down next to you forcefully.

"Because it's a part of my body, meaning I can show it off when I want, or cover it up when I want. Besides, I told you earlier, my soulmate doesn't want me," you said, flipping your page leisurely. "Don't need them hating me more than they already do without knowing my identity."

Aomine was clearly displeased, but it wasn't like he could argue with you about it, soulmarks were a very personal thing to some people.

"You're at the beach," he began a few minutes later, tone incredulous, "and you're reading a book. What is wrong with you?"

"A lot, which issue are you referring to?" you asked nonchalantly before he scowled at you. "I don't feel like going into the water," you told him, glaring at him over your sunglasses. "I have work to do, and this is a good time to catch up on it. Besides, shouldn't you be with the rest of the team? This was for you guys."

Aomine scowled, but stood up, heading for where the team was playing a game of beach volleyball. Or, they were attempting, none of them seemed to be having much luck with it.

"You know, not very many people can keep Dai-chan at bay as much as you're able to," Momoi said, making you snort.

"You just have to know how to deal with it. You can do it."

"But not for long, and not once he makes up his mind about something. You've kept him at bay for months, I've never been able to do that. My top score is a week."

"Does it bother you?" you asked quietly.

"No, not at all," she said, a little too quickly. "Okay, well, it bothers me a little. I've known him since we were kids, and you can handle him better than I can just after a few months, but I know why."

"Honestly Momoi, I don't think it's because we're soulmates, because he doesn't know. I think it's just I refuse to let him win at all."

"You two are definitely two of the most stubborn people I have ever met," she agreed, rolling over onto her stomach.

"I'm not sure whether that's a compliment or not," you muttered.

Momoi giggled and you smiled. It was nice, hanging out with her. It was nice to have a female friend.

"I'm a little peckish, do you want a pretzel or something from the concessions thing?" you asked, gesturing to the snack shack type thing that they had set up a few meters away.

"No, I'm all set, thank you though," she said.

"Alright, just thought I'd ask," you told her, standing up, wiping sand off your legs as you headed over with your wallet.

You dodged a pair of kids that looked like twins, who were trying to splash each other with water, and you laughed as one of them tackled the other.

"Idiot, you can't just wander off," Aomine chided as he sidled up next to you.

"I didn't," you pointed out. "I told Momoi where I was going."

Aomine frowned, glaring at a guy that stepped too close for his comfort.

"The point of this trip was so that the team could bond," you told him, "so that means that you should be over there with the team."

"You're a part of the team too right?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"Technically, yes, but I'm talking about the part of the team that plays on the court. I just tend to make sure that your ass shows up."

You glanced at Aomine, who was frowning.

"Out with it," you demanded, glancing around as you walked to make sure neither of you bumped into anyone.

"Does your mark make you uncomfortable?" he asked, carefully choosing his words.

"No," you admitted. "It's comforting actually, but there's no point in showing it off. Besides, it makes my back really hot when I'm out in the sun. That makes me uncomfortable."

You placed your order, which consisted of a fruity drink on ice and a small snack that would hold you over until lunch.

"What have you eaten today?" he asked.

"Nothing. I had coffee this morning and then left the house. I don't normally eat breakfast," you told Aomine.

"How are you alive?"

"Have you taken health classes?"

"Not what I meant, asshole," he snapped. "You're gonna run yourself into the ground."

"Aomine, I'm fine," you assured him. "Besides, I'm drinking plenty of fluids."

He frowned, but he seemed to realize it was useless to argue with you about it.

"Go back to the team, Aomine, I'm fine," you told him, shoving him towards where the boys were sitting in the sand.

You tossed your snack wrapper in a garbage can that was placed strategically, glad for the little bit of food in your stomach.

But then the kids ran by again, and one of them got you instead of their brother.

"Sorry!" he called, darting away.

Normally you wouldn't have minded, the water felt nice against your skin, but you knew that your cover-up would start to be see through, and with the breeze blowing off the water, it was sticking to your back.

You sighed, slipping it over your head as you headed for your towel.

After drying your shoulders off, you set your shirt out to dry, then began rooting around in your bag for your backup, before remembering that you had forgotten to put it in your bag before you left.

"Fuck," you muttered, glancing at where Aomine and the other boys were chatting.

You supposed that it was fine for now, but you would have to be careful if they came back over.

"Momoi, please, for the sake of our friendship, you can't say anything to the boys about this," you said when she looked over and saw your back.

"Why are you so worried about him finding out?" she asked, carefully running a hand over your back, tracing the lines of the mark.

"Because, he might be a dick, but he's a friend, and I don't want to lose that friendship because of some dumb cosmic presence that decided we were meant for one another."

"Do you love him?" she inquired.

You licked your lips, then pursed them.

"Do you love him?" she repeated.

You waited for a few moments before you confessed, "I might. Whether it's love or a crush, I can't say for sure."

She sucked in a breath.

"What?" you asked.

"You know that he likes you back, right?" she asked quietly. "You know that it has nothing to do with the Mark. It's not like he's seen it and knows that you're the woman he's going to marry."

"He'll hate me if he finds out."

"No, he won't."

"I think he will."

"How long are you going to keep this from him?" she demanded. "He at least deserves to know that you're an option!"

"I'll wait until he's married if I have to," you snapped, making her rear back. "Satsuki, in the end, this is my choice to make, and I've made it. He can't know."

"It's his decision too," she reminded you. "This isn't a one way street!"

"Right now, it is," you snarled. Then you softened your tone. "If I'm ever put in a situation where he finds out, I will let him make his own decision, but right now, it's my decision, the ball is in my court so to speak, and this is the move I'm making."

"I think it's the wrong move," she whispered.

"Luckily, it's not your move to make," you replied. "I don't mean to be cruel, Satsuki. I want him to be happy. I just don't think that he'd be happy with . . . me."

"How are you so sure?" she demanded, looking close to tears. "How are you so sure that knowing you're his soulmate would make him miserable? Why can't you accept the possibility that maybe him knowing would make him love you even more?"

You remembered all the times he had raved to you about how soulmates were bullshit. You remembered every vehement denial that he wanted to know who his soulmate was. Every venomous word and the pure hatred in his eyes.

If he looked like that just because of the idea, how would he react to the real thing? Something physical he could take his anger out on?

You highly doubted that Aomine would ever physically hurt you, but the idea still sent a shiver up your spine, despite the warm weather.

"Call it a gut feeling," you murmured, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"I just want you both to be happy," she whispered.

"I can't speak for him," you told her, "but I'm content with the way things are right now."

"Content and happy aren't always the same thing," she argued.

Something in your eyes must've told her that you weren't in the mood, because she sighed, going back to her tanning.

You laid on your back, trying to think of ways to hide the mark, but it took up the entire expanse of your shoulder blades, there was no way to hide it unless it was completely covered with a shirt or you laid on it.

"Momoi-san, (Y/L/N)-san, do you wanna come play two truths and a lie with us?" Sakurai asked.

"Sure, I would love to," Momoi said.

"What about you?"

You paused, thinking it over, before you grabbed your shirt, throwing it over your head after beating most of the sand out of it, making sure that no one saw it.

It wouldn't do much, you didn't think, but it would make you feel better all the same.

"Okay," you murmured, wandering over to fit in the circle with the boys.

They had decided that the person to their right was going to have to guess which was the lie, and you despaired to find that Aomine was on your right.

"Since the girls have now decided to join, new score," the captain said and you winced.

"Ladies first," Aomine said, giving you one of those glances that made you want to kiss him and punch him at the same time.

You decided to find a good compromise and you pinched his arm, hard.

"Okay," you murmured, trying to think. "One: when I was six, I popped my elbow out of my socket throwing a tantrum. Two: I have more than five dresses in my closet. Three: my music selection has a disturbing amount of love songs."

The others started whispering amongst themselves, and Aomine squinted at you.

"Number two has to be the lie. I've seen your music selection, and you mentioned the arm injury when you first became the manager," Aomine declared confidently.

"Wrong," you told him, grinning. "I have six dresses in my closet. I wasn't throwing a tantrum when I popped my elbow out of my socket. I fell off the monkey bars at the park."

Aomine glowered at you, and you laughed.

"You're just shitty at paying attention."

The boys were surprisingly bad at this game, either that or you were just good at guessing when someone was lying.

"One: I hate cherry lip gloss. Two: I can play the guitar. Three: I've never had a celebrity crush."

"Every girl has a celebrity crush," Aomine muttered, but then glanced back at you, frowning. "I say one is the lie."

"Nope! I can't play the guitar. I was taking lessons until I was eleven but I can't remember any of it."

"Wow, despite how much time you guys spend together, you really don't know much about her, do you Aomine?"

"Shut up," he mumbled, cheeks flushing.

Momoi, who was situated on your left, seemed to be very concerned with how good you were at guessing hers.

"That's the sixth one in a row that you've guessed right!" Satsuki cried, and you laughed.

"Sorry Momoi-san, but you're just very transparent and I'm too competitive to lose."

Aomine hadn't managed to guess any of yours, and you could feel him simmering beside you.

"Alright, since Aomine sucks at this, and (Y/F/N) is simply too good, let's change it up a little."

Suddenly, they were all going against you.

"I take it back, we all suck at this," Imayoshi muttered a few rounds later when they had yet to get one right.

"Sorry guys, I'm just good at hiding things," you said. "Remember, I've been hiding my soulmark from you all since the beginning of the year."

"That's it!" Satsuki cried, pointing at you, making you jerk towards Aomine to get away from her. "If we can get one right, just one, then you have to show us your soulmark!"

You wanted to decline, you wanted to act your way out of it, you knew what would happen if you lost, but that glint in her eyes made you want to prove her wrong.

"Deal," you told her.

"Okay, think about your answers carefully," Aomine said.

"Shouldn't they be saying that to you?" you asked him as you thought of something to say.

After listening to the ocean for a moment, you said, "One: I sleep like a baby during thunderstorms. Two: snapping turtles scare me to death. Three: I have a college age reading level."

Everyone started deliberating, and you smiled, leaning back, soaking in the sun.

"We have an answer," Imayoshi said, and you cracked open an eye.

"Shoot," you told them, sitting up.

"It's number two," he said.

The blood drained from your face.

You knew that they had taken a wild guess, but you hadn't expected them to get it right.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and nodded, not trusting your voice.

You took another steadying breath as you stood up, brushing yourself off, trying to control the shaking in your hands that was slowly spreading up your arms.

You vaguely heard Imayoshi telling you that you didn't have to, that you had the right to say no.

You wanted to take the out he was giving you. You wanted to act your way out of it, you wanted to try and run, and you wanted to tell them that you backed out but . . . .

But you had been keeping this to yourself for a very long time. And you wanted to know sooner rather than later whether Satsuki was right or not. You wanted to know whether this was as terrible as your mind was making it out to be.

You got a firm grip on your shirt, and you were about to lift it off, but suddenly Aomine was in front of you, his hands covering yours as he stared you down.

His eyes were boring into yours, and his hands were firm, but gentle, in their grip.

He was telling you that you didn't have to, that as much as he pried, he wasn't going to let you feel pressured into doing this.

You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before you shook your head, lips pressed together in a hard line.

"You deserve to know," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking.

Aomine nodded, slowly moving his hands, before he settled back down where he had been.

You took one last, steadying breath, turning your back to your team.

You tugged the shirt over your head, pulling the straps of your suit to the side so that they could see the expanse of the mark across your back.

Your entire team was silent as they realized what they were seeing.

"Holy shit," someone breathed, though you weren't sure who it was.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, though you weren't entirely sure who you were apologizing to.

Momoi was suddenly in front of you, pulling the straps of your bathing suit back up.

"(Y/F/N), you're shaking," she murmured.

"I know," you told her.

"He's gone," she informed you, and you collapsed into the sand, letting out a shaky breath you hadn't known you were holding.

"How pissed with me is he?" you asked her.

"I-I don't know," she confessed. "I've . . . I've never not been able to read him. He . . . he was completely blank. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," you murmured, staring at the sand in front of you. "I should have taken the out. I should have stayed home. I knew what he was trying to do. I knew that you wanted me to tell him. I knew how he would react. And a small, foolish part of me dared to hope that I was wrong. A small, naive, stupid, masochistic part of me believed that it wouldn't matter. I should know by now that I'm rarely wrong about this kind of thing."

"But I know him!" Satsuki said, looking close to tears. "I know how he looks at you! I see the little things! I don't why he . . . ."

"Don't worry about it Satsuki," you told her, standing up, turning to your team. "Sorry guys."

You headed for your spot, gathering up your things, making sure that you had everything that you had come with, just to give yourself something to focus on.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sakurai asked.

You saw that the whole team, save one member, was standing there in various states of shock, anger, and something akin to pity.

"I knew it would happen eventually," you murmured, then told them, "I'll survive. I'll be myself at practice on Monday, promise. Have a good rest of your weekend guys."

You dug your phone out of your pocket when you were far enough away from the team.

"Hello?"

"Taiga, hey, can you come pick me up?" you asked. "Something went down with Aomine."

"I'm on my way," he said. "Hold tight. Wait, where are you?"

You sent him your location, heading for the parking lot.

By the time Kagami actually found you, you were pretty sure you had cried yourself out.

You didn't remember crying, but Kagami had taken one look at you and wiped at your cheeks.

You had gone with Aomine when he had challenged Kagami at the street court, and you had stayed in touch with the red-head slowly becoming friends with each other.

He knew about your mark as well, though he had promised to keep it to himself. He hadn't told Kuroko either, which surprised you.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"He knows," you admitted, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders. "He saw it."

As you explained what happened, Kagami got quieter and quieter, and when you glanced at his face, you were surprised to see a serious amount of anger on his face.

"Taiga?" you asked quietly.

"I'll murder him," Kagami growled. "He's such a fuckin'-!"

"You don't have to murder him," you told the red-head, who looked shocked at your response.

"But-!"

"No, I knew it was going to happen. I knew that I would lose him, I was just trying to hold on for a little longer. He hasn't done anything wrong," you said. "I guess that means that I don't have to hide it anymore."

"He's an idiot," Kagami declared.

"I already knew that though."

"Did he even explain himself to you?"

"No. But he doesn't need to. I already know that he doesn't want me. I knew when he started pawing around about my mark. I knew, but I didn't stop him. I led myself to this point."

"Stop taking responsibility for him being a dick!" Kagami snapped. "Do you realize how many people would kill to have you as a soulmate? Or to have one like you?"

"That's not the point!" you told him. "The point is that the one person I want to want me as a soulmate, doesn't. And there's nothing I can do to fix that! Because he seemed to like me just fine thinking I wasn't anything special to him, but the moment fate steps in, I'm fucked. So unless there's a way to pretend like this mark isn't a permanent reminder that the guy that's supposed to be perfect for me, hates my guts, then I guess this is my life now!"

"Kuroko is so much better at this than I am," Kagami muttered to himself. "Look, have you tried calling him?"

"He made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing to do with me."

"Try it anyway."

"I think I'm good. My heart's been broken enough today, thanks."

"Seriously, this is fucking insane," Kagami stressed, opening a door for you. "From what I've seen, your the one person he actually listens to and hears."

"Because he didn't know what I was! I took advantage of that, and now I'm paying the price for it. I should have just told him and dealt with the consequences when I didn't want him! Now it hurts that much more and I have to watch us go back to being strangers. Maybe I should just transfer."

"Um, (Y/F/N)," Kagami said, tapping your shoulder.

"No, I'm serious! Why torture the team with our angst when I can just move schools? There are plenty in the area. Maybe I could move to Seirin. My parents-"

"(Y/F/N)!" he hissed, turning your head to look at something.

"Fuck," you muttered, locking eyes with Aomine, who had his hands thrown up like he had been using them to make a point to Kuroko, who was glancing back and forth between the two of you.

Kagami dropped his hands from your face and you took the opportunity.

You turned and bolted from the Seirin gym.

You should have been paying attention. You should have made Kagami take you home, you should've asked where you were going before.

Multiple people shouted after you, but you ignored them.

You had to get away from him, you had to make sure that he didn't think you were trying to-

Do what?

You slowed down with a sudden realization. If your life had been a cartoon there would've been breaking sound effects and skid marks behind you.

Why should you care what he thought when you had walked into that gym? He didn't care anymore, not now that he knew what you were, why should you?

Fuck what he thought!

If he wanted to let you go, who gave a fuck what it seemed like? You were friends with Kagami, and by default, Kuroko.

How were you supposed to know that he would go to Kuroko after this sort of thing?

Was it really that weird, that wrong, for you to do what you had just done?

You took a deep breath, letting yourself relax. You were probably over thinking things yet again.

A street court caught your eye and you stared at it for a few moments before heading over.

Someone had left a ball there, whether from pure forgetfulness, or a trust in humanity that someone wouldn't take it.

You pushed on it, checking the air, before you dribbled it around.

You could have gotten on a team if you had wanted, but after middle school, you had had enough of the inter-team drama, and had decided to give it up. So you had managed the boys team to be close to the sport without having to deal with a lot of the drama.

You practiced with them sometimes, when Momoi was managing and you had nothing better to be doing.

You made a few lay-ups, a few foul shots, and moved onto half court shots, soaking in the sound of the ball falling through the net.

The heat of the day was soaking through your t-shirt, soaking into the mark, and you touched it lightly, wondering what you were going to do on Monday.

You had promised the team that you would be back to normal, but would you be able to fake being okay well enough to fool them? How much would it take to fool Aomine into thinking that you were okay?

"Why him?" you asked yourself, tilting your face up to the sun. "Why did it have to be him? It could have been literally anyone else, and you chose the one guy that would never be able to love me for what I am, for what we are."

A breeze rustled the trees around you and you breathed it in, moving to leave when you caught sight of him standing in the entrance of the court.

"Shit," you muttered, looking for another way out. There was no chance that he hadn't seen you, even Aomine wasn't that much of an idiot, but you were seriously considering climbing the fence to get away when he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he started.

"No, stop, I don't want your apology," you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself, not able to look at him. "You have nothing to apologize for. I knew when I made that damn deal that I was risking our friendship, I was just tired of having to hide the damn thing. You of all people realize how much of a pain in the ass it is to cover up. And now that I think about it, it's probably better that this happened now. I can't imagine how badly it would've been if I had gotten even closer to you.

"Besides, now you're free to make your own decision. Satsuki got what she wanted in the end. Go figure, I guess. Anyway, you don't have to worry about it. You won't have to worry about me doing anything now that you know. And I already told you that if you won you would get to decide what you got for winning. You won't have to deal with me after this, I promise. I'll disappear since that's what you want."

"So when you told me I got to choose, you were basically telling me that I could choose whether I wanted you or not?"

"Yeah, pretty much, and I shouldn't've. I already knew which one you were going to choose, I was just being naive."

"That's not how it works dumbass," Aomine said.

You screwed your eyes shut, turning your head away from him.

"I know," you whispered. "Why are you even here?"

"I was looking for you, obviously," he grumbled.

"Why? I already know that you don't want this, you made that abundantly clear with your stories and reactions to me at the beach. What are you trying to do here, Aomine?"

"Trying to tell you that I like you," he stated. "But you keep trying to push me away."

"Huh?" Your eyes flew open at the words, and you stared at him.

"Idiot," he murmured, walking over.

You backed up, trying to keep the distance but he backed you against the fence.

"Do you want me to be honest with you?" he asked softly.

You nodded, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"I might be in love with you, and not because you're my soulmate," he said, which made you cock your head in confusion.

"But . . . all that stuff you said about hating soulmates and not wanting to meet yours . . . ."

"I didn't think you were my soulmate moron," he murmured, reaching out to toy with your hair. "I'm okay with it being you. I'm grateful for it actually."

The look on your face must've said it all because he sighed.

"You should've told me sooner," he told you. "I want to go out with you. No secrets, no lies, no weird games where I'm trying to get you to take your clothes off."

"You had me until that last one," you muttered, taking the hand that was playing with your hair.

He laced your fingers together before you could take your hand away.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he told you, wrapping his other arm around your waist. "So what do you say? Go out with me?"

You watched his face as much as you could in the crappy lighting, waiting for any sign that he was joking, waiting for him to yell 'Psych!' and walk away.

But his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, and he seemed too busy watching you to question what was taking you so long.

"If I say yes, am I going to be the laughing stock of the school?" you asked.

"No, I may be a dick, but I'm not that mean," Aomine told you.

"Okay," you whispered. "Yeah, I'll go out with you."

The smile Aomine gave you could've lit the whole court.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you realize that Kagami and Tetsu think we're both crazy now," Aomine said.

"They already knew," you told him, wrapping an arm around his neck. "You have to be crazy to put up with the both of them."

Aomine snorted, nudging your forehead with his.

"I'm sorry that I ran from you," he said. "I shouldn't have done that."

You waited, sensing that he had more to say, he was just gathering his thoughts.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he muttered. "I just had to get away from my own stupidity I guess. I should have guessed that I was your soulmate. You were so on edge whenever I brought it up, but when someone else brought it up it was more like you were sick of the questions. I know you enough to know that if you reacted differently to me that it was because of me. I just . . . I acted on instinct."

"You don't have to explain anything to me Aomine," you told him, burying a hand in his hair. It was softer than you had thought it would be.

"No, you deserve an explanation. I am the whole reason you're even at Seirin."

"I was at Seirin because I wanted to talk to Kagami and that was where we ended up. We could have just as easily gone to his place or to mine."

"Tetsu's been trying for years to get me into the whole 'soulmate' thing, so he was the first person I thought of that could me explain what the fuck was going on. I wasn't upset that it was you, I was upset because you hid it from me and that you thought I was going to flip out about it. I mean, I did, but just not the way you expected."

"I figured you would yell at me, maybe push me around a little bit," you confessed. "I didn't think you were going to run like your ass was on fire to go talk to Kuroko."

"I wouldn't hurt you, for multiple reasons, the main one being I like you."

"I know, but the mind is a strange thing, and mine has a tendency to think worst case scenario first."

He hummed, and you saw the tension melt from his shoulders.

"Come on, let's get out of here," you told him. "Maybe you could go practice with Taiga and Kuroko."

"I want bread, we should go to a coffee shop or something," he suggested.

"Actually, yeah, that's a better idea," you agreed. "I really don't feel like explaining to Seirin what this whole thing was about. I'll call Taiga and explain, how about you call Momoi-san and tell her that everything's okay, 'cause she was really worried when I left."

"Yeah, I got it," he murmured, digging his phone out of his pocket, but he didn't unwrap his arm from around your waist.

"Hey, Taiga," you said when he picked up his phone.

"Where the hell are you, idiot?" Kagami asked.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you even more. Everything's fine now. Aomine kinda cornered me in a street ball court."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we worked things out. You don't have to worry about it, I promise. We're gonna go to a coffee shop somewhere nearby. I'll call you when I get home so that you know that I got back safely."

"Alright, but if he starts being a dick again, just give me a call."

"I will, thanks for everything Taiga," you told him, ending the call.

It wasn't really explaining things, but you could always tell him about it later, which you were probably going to have to do.

"-fine, Satsuki," Aomine was saying, looking exasperated. "She wants to talk to you."

"Hi Momoi-san," you said when he handed you his phone.

"(Y/F/N)! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Momoi-san, breathe," you ordered, laughing. "I'm fine. Aomine and I worked things out, I promise."

"Are you dating? Because if you aren't then that's not working things out!" she cried.

"Momoi-san, we worked things out," you assured her.

"So you're dating then?"

You pursed your lips and glanced at Aomine.

"You'll find out soon enough I suppose," you told her, hanging up before she could say anything else to you.

"I think she likes you more than she likes me," he said, and you could hear the repressed pout.

"Nah, you'll always be Dai-chan to her," you told him. "You're her best friend, I just happen to be someone she needs to like because of my affiliation with you."

"You make it sound like this is some sort of business thing," Aomine whined, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"I'm not used to you liking me, Aomine, you're going to have to let me adjust to this. I have been deliberately avoiding the fact that I like you all year."

"Fair enough," he muttered. "But don't expect me to be all conservative about this."

"What's this?" you asked him.

"Us, the fact that you agreed to go out with me."

"I retain all rights to pretend like I don't know you if you get too dramatic," you warned him, which made him scoff, like he wasn't expecting you to go through with it.

"Bold of you to assume that I'm joking," you said, letting his arm slip off your shoulders and he paused.

"You can't be serious," he muttered.

You kept walking.

"(Y/F/N)? You aren't serious right?" he called after you, slight panic in his voice when you didn't turn around.

"Right?" he asked.

[yunhoiseyecandy]

ᴀʀᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ (ᴍ)

✕ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏɪꜱᴛ!ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

✕ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟹.𝟶ᴋ

✕ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ɴᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ / ᴛᴜɢɢɪɴɢ, ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ

✕ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ — ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ɪᴅᴇᴀ

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the familiar smell of cigarettes hit your nose as soon as you stepped into the small shop, the bell at the top of the door ringing throughout the room as the door closed behind you.

"might as well interview for a job here at this point, y/n."

a smile crept it's way up your mouth at the voice, eyes making contact with another pair in front of you. "yeah well, it sucks that I already have a job. but thanks for the offer, san."

the pen in his hand tapped in tune with the music playing from the speaker on his desk while he filled out some paperwork, his eyebrows knitting together when he saw you were about thirty minutes early.

"what's up? I'm pretty sure your appointment was at 5:00 pm, not 4:30," san said, standing up out of his chair so he could lean on the countertop in front of you. "lucas doesn't come in until then."

your head tilted in confusion as your eyes flickered to your watch. dammit, he's right.

you were more than positive you had the right time, and now you're nothing but annoyed at the small slip-up. "fuck, I could've sworn it was already past five when I left."

your arms crossed over your chest as a high pitched laugh left san, his hand coming down to slap the counter when he saw the glare you sent his way.

"well, you might want to get that watch checked out, babe." you wanted nothing more than to slap that smirk off his lips, jump over the counter and strangle the boy to death, but you knew he'd only watch as you struggled to do so.

just then, one of the rooms in the back swung open as someone walked out, another guy who you assumed to be a new artist here leaning against the door as he wiped some sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

woah, you thought, he's kinda cute. you couldn't help but bite your lip while watching as a small smile played on his lips, eyes fixed on his arms when they flexed while opening a door for the other guy to leave.

you watched as he strolled over to where you and san were, the leather pants he had on fitting his thighs too well, and the black shirt he had on leaving barely anything to the imagination.

his hair was messy, and you could tell he pushed it back a lot. just as that thought came to mind his hand came up to push the hair out of his eyes, and it's then that you saw the dark eyeshadow that he had on.

black eyeliner and eyeshadow, leather pants— he was the whole package, and you couldn't tell if it was him that was making it hot in here, or the lack of air conditioning-

all this time you didn't realize san was holding back more laughter as he watched you drool over the new employee, ushering him over secretly just to mess with you.

the smirk that painted san's face never left as the tall man walked over, eyes low and dark and it gave you the impression that he must've been tired. "oh hey, yunho, how'd your last session go?"

yunho, that was his name

yunho sighed as he craned his neck to the side while his hand rubbed the tense muscles harshly, "it went good, but god is my back being a pain today."

your eyes continued to drink in yunho's appearance, finding it hard to look away for more than a minute.

you couldn't help but notice the size difference between the two of you, and it was hard not to think about what other things could be even bigger.

"oh sorry, I should introduce you two," san said, walking to where you two of you were standing and his hands gesturing to both of you as he spoke. "y/n, yunho — yunho, y/n."

you weren't exactly sure how to respond to san's actions, but you just decided to go along with him and send an awkward nod yunho's way.

he smiled, well more specifically half smiled back to you, and you couldn't help but admire the tongue piercing that his tongue had. you'd always admired people with such a pain tolerance, never truly being able to handle things like that.

"nice to meet you, y/n." he said, being very discreet at checking you out while your eyes trained to the ground. he thought it was adorable when your ears reddened slightly, making it hard for him not to blush himself.

and as much as you wanted nothing more than to talk to the hot guy in front of you, you really needed to get this tattoo done before you had to leave for work later that night.

your hands shoved themselves into the pockets of your shorts, "oh, I forgot to tell you y/n," san started, "lucas just texted me saying he won't be able to make it today, and recommend you pick someone else to do the tattoo for you."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes in annoyance at his words, already mad at yourself for being early but now being more than pissed off.

and maybe it was because he'd later on tell you that the guy you'd been drooling over would substitute for your usual artist, leaving you a embarrassed mess the whole session.

but who knows

he was precise with everything, and you never would’ve thought watching someone handle something with such precisions could be so attractive. you could tell he took pride in what he did, and you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing while being alone in this room with him.

though, you will admit that no matter how focused you were on the man in front of you, the pain of the needle poking your skin was far too much to distract you from where you currently were.

this wasn’t your first time getting a tattoo, so you weren’t quite sure why your nerves were shot, but you had a couple reasons that might explain why you were extra squeamish today.

yunho noticed the way you would tense up whenever he placed his empty hand on your knee to sturdy himself, and he couldn’t help but chuckle whenever your thighs closed together at his soft touches.

in fact, this whole time he’d been working on you he had to force his eyes back onto what he was working and tell himself repeatedly to keep everything professional, and not cross any lines.

he hated how he was acting, like some teenage boy who’d just discovered porn for the first time. his cheeks reddened as he saw you bite your bottom lip, thinking about how sweet you must be, and he wanted nothing more than to throw the tattoo machine across the room and spread your legs wide open while he takes you raw.

he knew it wasn’t just him thinking like this, and he smirked whenever you licked your lips when he moved a certain way, the veins on his arms becoming more prominent with every passing second.

“and.. done.” he said, placing the gun on the small table next to him before he grabbed one last wipe and slowly dragged it along your tattoo to get any access ink. he stood up hastily, taking his gloves off and rolling his wrist in circular motions.

in this moment, you didn’t care about the fresh moon that painted your skin, and more about how big he looked compared to where you sat, his chest barely fitting in his shirt. “it looks amazing, really.”

he turned around to face you, smiling and drying his hands with a paper towels. he stepped closer to you, steps short but long as he leaned down, “gotta throw this away, baby.” he said and tossed the paper into the bin right next to your legs.

you held your breath when he pulled back, your eyes locking with his while his breath fanned your face. his cologne was intoxicating, it was like you were floating, almost a euphoric feeling. “did you need anything else?”

maybe it was because of all the sexual tension that you pulled the collar of his shirt towards you and pressed your lips against his, but you couldn’t think about anything else but his taste.

he tasted like strawberries, and you think you remember him putting some strawberry chapstick on before he started your session. his lips were soft, felt like cushions against your own, and you let your tongue slide over his bottom lip before slowly pushing into his mouth.

yunho pulled away to catch his breath, "fuck, are you sure you want to do this? san's right outside and can hear us-"

he was adorable, you had to admit, the way his ears were burning and how he touched you hesitantly. but you wanted him to know that you were in this fully, so you wrapped your legs around him while slowly grounding into him so he could catch on.

you could feel his cock through his ripped jeans, and you loved the way it felt against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. "you're so big,"

it was like a wave came over him, sending a boost of confidence his way when you moaned into his mouth. "yeah?"

you hummed into him, fingers tugging the hair on the back of his neck. yunho's hands ran up and down your thighs before pulling away.

"I wanna feel those pretty lips around me, baby." he said, backing up against the counter in front of you. your eyes ran down from where his hands were undoing the buttons on his shirt, wide while slowly roaming the bulge over his pants.

once his shirt was open, his hands moved down to slowly grope himself while looking keeping eye contact with you. "what're you waiting for?"

never have you felt such heat rush through your body, the white underwear you had on had to be more than soaked through by now.

without any hesitation, you rushed to get on the ground infront of him, sliding your hands up his body and unbuttoning his pants while kissing his clothed thighs.

his fingers grabbed ahold of some of your hair, gliding through it and gripping it harshly. the view beneath him was too hot, and it was starting to get hard to grasp a full breath of air.

once you finally managed to pull his pants down, you placed your hands on either side of his underwear and pulled it down.

you don't think you've ever taken someone so big, let alone give head to something the size of your face. you gulped, licking your lips and giving a small lick to the head of his cock.

"f-fuck" he stuttered out, chest heaving as he watched you taste him. it was such a small touch, but just enough to have him begging for more.

slowly, one hand came to hold his length closer to your lips, and you licked a long stripe up the underside of him to test where he was most sensative.

and as you expected, once you reached he slit his hips buckled up into your mouth, forcing his head to slip past your lips. "just like that, so good."

it wasn't long before both his hands tangled in your hair while one of your own was on his thigh, pacing yourself with every harsh thrust he gave your mouth.

you could feel the way his cock twitched if you sucked harder, and you wanted nothing more than to have him cum in your mouth. but before he could, he pulled out completely and stuck his thumb in your mouth.

"no, baby, I wanna cum in your pussy before anything else."

you moaned around his finger, surprised when he pulled it out of your mouth and pulled you up by your chin, turning you around and bending you over the work table.

"I'm not gonna lie, y/n." he pulled your shorts down your legs, moving your panties to the side, "I knew I wanted to fuck you as soon as I saw these pretty shorts."

he stuck two fingers in his mouth, coating them with his spit and spreading your legs before sliding them over your pussy. "and when I saw the bow on your underwear? I fucking lost it."

you but your arm to keep any noises inside, not wanting anyone to walk in right now. "ah, please-"

he smirked, slowly pushing the digits in to make sure it wouldn't hurt. "god, you're so warm and wet."

you felt his fingers curl up inside you, and your back arched with anticipation. he was moving too slow for your liking, and you were starting to get impatient.

"yunho, please. I need you." you're not one to beg, but right now you're willing to do anything to feel him inside you.

"all you had to do was ask, love"

yunho pushed himself deep in you, and it took all the willpower in your body not to scream. "oh fuck,"

he groaned as you clenched around him, moving his hips when he felt your body ease into his touch.

your hands gripped the edge of the table under you, nails scraping the paint on the underside of it while it pounded into you from behind.

with every thrust he gave you, his hips slammed the backside of your thighs, making the room fill with sounds of slapping that only added to the lewdness of the situation.

you could feel all of him; the veins that ran on the underside of him, the tip of his cock whenever he'd graze that sweet spot inside of you, and the way his nails dug into your hips when your cunt squeezed him especially right.

"so good," yunho groaned, his head falling back when he caught a reflection of your face in the mirror infront of him.

your eyebrows were knit together, mouth wide open while silent please and begs left your mouth. and every now and then he caught a glimpse of your cleavage whenever your shirt bunched up at the top

you couldn't take it anymore, it was all too much. "g-gonna- gonna cum-!"

he couldn't help but chuckle at the whine you let out, "yeah? go ahead, cum all over my cock like the slut you are."

your eyes closed tight, back arching into the table and your whole lower half went numb as you came around him.

not being able to handle how hard you were clenching around him he gave your sensative body two more thrusts before pulling out and cumming all over your back.

you lay there in a daze, not paying attention to the shuffling behind you.

"maybe you did need something else, huh?"

[ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ]

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

@hanatiny , @multidreams-and-desires , @latte-fairytaekwoon , @vocalyunho , and @galaxteez

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ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

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[leia505]

The Sunrise and Your Sins | Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader (street racing AU)

This fic takes place in the same universe as “deciphered” by @hoeneymilktea​! Here is the link to the car visuals and spotify playlist, as well as AO3 where the fic is also posted if you prefer to read on there. 

Huge shoutout to @aikk00​ for creating the fan art that inspired both this story and “deciphered”. 

And another shoutout to @hoeneymilktea​ for pushing me to write this fic, if you’re here from deciphered I hope you enjoy this addition to the deciphered universe! 

Pairing: Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW(later chapters)  

Word Count: 10k

Tags: Street Racing, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Inspired by Fanart, References to Drugs, Aged-Up Character(s), Original Character(s), Inspired by The Fast and the Furious, Inspired by Tokyo Drift, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Mystery, Drama & Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Being a mob boss’s daughter had always been a dangerous life, but Tetsurou Kuroo—street racer and mob henchman—made it all seem easy. Although the mutual attraction between you two was undeniable, the darkness that encompassed your family took precedence over your love. Surrounded by lies and deception, you and Kuroo must work together to uncover the truth of your brother’s death and your father’s shady business.

“Hey there kitten.”

“Is that really how you want to talk to a yakuza boss’ daughter?”

“It’s not like your old man’s here to listen.” Kuroo says, pulling up a chair to sit close to you. You turned your head to stare him in the eyes as he smirked at you.

“You think a man like my father doesn’t have his own office wired?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo chuckles nervously, looking around your dad’s office. Just some harmless flirting boss. Nothing to worry about here.” He says loudly, turning to you with a wink. You can’t help but smile, you’ve always enjoyed the times Kuroo came to see your father. You weren’t going to try to deny the fact you found him attractive, but there’s no way your father would allow it. A mafia princess and a drug smuggler? What a cliché.

Your father’s sudden entrance startles you both, and Kuroo instinctively stands up to bow. You remain seated, knowing that the power he held over this city applied to everyone but you.

“Hello father.” You greet your dad as he sits in his office chair at the front of the room. He definitely has a demanding presence, which is to be expected from the man who has the Tokyo underground in his pocket. Kuroo had power, and definitely had some authority, but he was a guppy compared to your father.

“Sit, Tetsurou.” Your father says, motioning for Kuroo to take a seat. He quickly sits down in his chair, attentively looking at the mafia boss for further instructions.

“So, as you could probably guess, I have another job for you.” He says, pulling a file out from the locked cabinet of his desk. He laid the file open in front of him and turned to Kuroo. “There will be a shipping container coming in this Friday from Cuba. I’m going to need a team of your best racers to get it from point A, the ports, to point B, headquarters.” He explains, motioning for Kuroo to stand next to him to look over the details.

“Seems easy enough, standard job.” Kuroo says, studying the papers in front of him. At this moment, you can’t help but wonder to yourself why exactly you’re there.

“Exactly. Nothing new, just the same old.” Your dad agrees. “However, this is a bigger job. And we do have some eyes watching us nowadays. So what I need from you is to take the lead and choose your team. Approved by me, of course.” He says, motioning for Kuroo to take his seat again.

“How many people are we talking?” Kuroo asks.

“You, maybe two others. And your colleague, Snake Eyes, taking the lead on logistics.” Your father explains, leaning back in his chair. “Snake Eyes will be essential to this one, we need eyes and ears on the route. The less run-ins with the authorities, the better.”

‘Snake Eyes.’ You thought to yourself. ‘Isn’t that Kenma? The nerdy looking mechanic?’

“I’ll let Kozume know.” Kuroo says, nodding. “I think Oikawa and Shinsuke would be a good fit for this one. Fast, experienced, trustworthy.”

“Oikawa…he’s the one that calls himself Cypher correct?” You father questions.

“Yes sir, head of Seijoh Brawlers. Shinsuke goes by Sly Fox, head of Inarizaki Bois.”

Your dad let out a hearty chuckle, startling both of you. “You kids and your code names. You would think you’re playing spy.” Kuroo nervously chuckled in agreement.

“No playing here sir, we’re all in.” Kuroo says, giving him a confident grin.

“That’s what I like to hear, Tetsurou. With that attitude, you’ll fit right in at the grown-up table.” Your father says, getting up from his chair. You roll your eyes, bored of the conversation between the two criminals. 

“Why am I here?” You ask, causing both of them to turn to you as if they just realized you were there. You rarely sat in on your father’s meetings, so you were confused from the start as to what your purpose was.

“Oh sweetheart! I almost forgot, Kuroo has a present for you.” Your father says brightly, waving his arms at you, motioning for you to follow Kuroo out the door.

You peered your eyes at Kuroo suspiciously as he smirked at you. You continued to follow him out the door of your family’s Tokyo home, with your father following behind you.

As the three of you exit the house, your eyes fall on a bright pink car, with a giant white ribbon tied around the hood.

“Is that-“You begin saying, quickening your pace to get closer to this absolute beauty.

“A Honda S2000? Yes, yes, it is.” Kuroo says, leaning against his car, a cherry red Nissan Veilside 350Z. He holds up a pair of car keys, which he tosses to you.

“It’s mine?!” You exclaim. You turn to your dad, who smiles warmly at you.

“A gift, from the Nekoma crew to our family. Me and your mother have enough cars, so I figured you could claim this one.” He explains, chuckling.

“Thank you!” You wrap your arms around him, embracing your father in a hug. He tightly hugs you back, the same way he always has. You turn towards Kuroo. “And thank you, you and the whole Nekoma crew. How’d you know I wanted pink?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I just guessed. Seemed like your color.” He says, winking at you. He slyly opens his car door, climbing in. “Thursday night, I’ll bring the team?” He asks, turning towards your dad.

“Yes, and make sure they bring their cars as well. I need to see for myself what type of speed we’re working with.” Your dad says, switching into business mode seamlessly.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, closing his car door and rolling his window down. “I can promise you sir, the one thing we will surely not be lacking is speed.” He says, revving his engine, speeding out of the driveway and down the dark street. The roar of his engine could be heard long after he disappeared from our sight, breaking the silence of the upper-class neighborhood he sped through.

“Sweetheart, Tetsurou and his boys are here if you’d like to sit in on the meeting.” Your father says, peeking his head into your room. 

“I’ll be right down dad.” You reply, getting up from your bed. You heard their cars coming from miles away, so you were already prepared to meet them downstairs. You were curious as to why your father suddenly invited you to sit in on his business meetings, he never really allowed you to take part in your family’s activities. Nevertheless, you were glad you finally had something to keep you entertained while locked away in your home. 

As you walked down the stairs, you heard Kuroo’s voice speaking to his friends, and you were caught off guard by how mature he sounded. He must have known you and your father were coming down the stairs, so he put his big boy voice on to impress your father. 

“Hi.” you say shortly, causing all of them to turn their heads to you. You finally got a good look at all of them, and they were all exactly what you’d expect street racers to look like. Piercings, tattoos, just a bunch of tough looking guys with skeptical faces as they looked up at you. 

“Is this the one you keep bringing up?” a guy with shoulder length bleached blonde hair asks, turning to Kuroo. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was a drastic change from Kuroo’s deep, commanding voice. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kuroo says, awkwardly clearing his throat, tugging at his collar as he avoided your gaze.

“Hola mami.” The brunette one says to you, shooting you a devilish smirk as you descend further down the stairs. 

“The fuck is wrong with this one?” You ask Kuroo, opting to stand next to him. You tilt your head towards the brunette guy, who was still staring at you like a luxury car. 

“He lived in Argentina for a few years and now he’s just...like that.” Kuroo says. “You kind of get used to it. He also doesn’t care that no one but him knows Spanish.” 

“Tetsurou! Glad you all made it here in one piece. Shall we move this to my office?” Your father says, waving his arm down the hall to the large double doors that lead to his office, the space where all meetings, illegal or otherwise, were held. 

The five of you made room for your father to lead and followed him down the hall. You were keenly aware of the fact Kuroo stood almost directly behind you, mainly because the smell of his cologne was too strong to ignore. Kuroo was just like that, a presence you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. 

Upon entering the office, you choose to take your usual spot on the comfortable sofa chair you put in your dad’s office over a decade ago. When you were younger, more naive to the truth to your father’s business and your family’s wealth, you frequently accompanied your father in his office on long work nights, falling asleep in the chair that was kept out of the way to keep others from taking your special spot. That’s always how your dad was, making sure to accommodate you. Anything for the princess. 

“So!” Your father announces, clapping his hands together, causing you and the blonde one to jump slightly. “Don’t be shy, introduce yourselves.” You roll your eyes at him, thinking that he sounded more like a grade school teacher than a yakuza boss with hundreds of skeletons in the closet. 

The 4 men stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not knowing how to start. Everyone except the silver haired guy wore a bomber jacket, with names printed on the back. The brunette wearing a white bomber jacket spoke first. You noticed the teal lettering on his jacket that read ‘CYPHER’. 

“Tooru Oikawa, sir. Cypher.” He says, bowing at your dad. 

“Uh, Kenma Kozume. People call me Snake Eyes sometimes.” the bleach blonde spoke next, his voice quiet and skeptical. 

“Kita Shinsuke, aka Sly Fox.” The silver haired guy in the plain black hoodie says, giving your father a slight head nod. 

“And obviously you know me.” Kuroo says. He turns to face you, flashing his signature grin. “Your turn.” 

“(y/n).” you introduce yourself, giving them a small wave. “If you haven’t figured out who I am then you’re pretty slow.” 

“My daughter, everyone. Excuse the attitude.” your father remarks, shaking his head at you. “So, I assume you filled them in on the details?” 

“Yes sir, they’ve all been filled in on the job. Kenma running point on logistics, the control tower of the team. The three of us running the cargo from the ports to the warehouse. Basic rules, don’t be dumb, and don’t get caught.” Kuroo says. The other men looked at him, nodding slightly in agreement. 

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you to take the lead here. Keep this up and you may find some more jobs like this in your future.” Your father gets up from his chair, pulling more files from his cabinet. He hands each of the men their own file, which they all take and begin looking over. “You’ll find all the smaller details in there, as well as numbers to contact in case you run into trouble. You’ll also find a receipt, with your pay for this job highlighted. I hope you find it accommodating to your work.” He says, studying each of them as they flip through the files. 

“Definitely accommodating.” Kita comments, nodding his head as he peers down at the file. You begin to wonder when you’ll be able to see the fine tuned details, to truly see everything your father does in a day. So much of who he is still remained a mystery to you, and perhaps you found some comfort in your own ignorance. 

“Thank you sir, our teams greatly appreciate your contributions.” Kuroo says, bowing once again to your father. 

“It’s really no problem, after all, who doesn’t like a good street race.” Your father says with a smile. “And, in a way, I feel as though keeping your teams afloat helps me remember my son.” 

“You have a son?” Oikawa asks, looking up. 

“Had a son, yes.” Your father replied sadly. You winced, not expecting to have to relive these memories. “He passed in a racing accident. It was a few years ago. I think it was before your kids’ time.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was his name? Or, what team was he on?” Kenma asks. 

“Keishin. He used the last name Ukai when he raced, to get away from our family name. I believe he raced for Karasuno?” Your dad says, bringing up more and more painful memories. 

“Karasuno Killers? They’re getting back on the scene nowadays. I remember someone talking about how they stopped coming to races a while back, but they just recently started racing again because they have a whole new team.” Kuroo says. 

“Really? Well, I might just have to come watch a race one of these days. For old times sake.” 

‘Old times sake my ass.’ you thought to yourself, knowing the truth about your father and your deceased brother’s relationship. Your father hated racing, and resented your brother for choosing Karasuno over the Sakanoshita name. At the time of your brother’s death, you couldn’t help but wonder if your father was truly upset, or if he was putting on another facade, the same way he was now. 

“Well, speaking of races, you wanted to see our cars, right?” Oikawa says, clearly trying to redirect this depressing conversation. 

“Oh yes, of course! I want to see for myself what you’re all going to be working with tomorrow.” Your father says, walking out of his office towards the front of the home. 

Outside, there were 3 cars parked in the driveway. You recognized the models, and you could guess which cars were Oikawa and Kita’s just from the colorways, white and black, just like their outfits. 

“Mi amor.” Oikawa says, looking at his car. “Mazda RX-7 Veilside Fortune. ‘97.” 

“He would marry his car if he could.” Kuroo comments, tilting his head towards you. You laugh, looking up at him. 

“Nissan Silvia. 2002.” Kita says, walking up to his car and opening the door. The smell of smoke was strong, and he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the middle console. “Mind if I smoke?” Your father nods, and Kita proceeds to light one and take a puff. 

“Kenma, no car?” Your father asks, turning towards him. Kenma seems caught off guard by the sound of his own name. 

“Uh, no sir, not tonight. I have cars, but I don’t drive all that often. I don’t see the point in risking my investments.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Yeah, he’d rather be in the passenger seat with me driving and risking my car.” Kuroo says, playfully shoving Kenma’s shoulder. 

“That reminds me, I have a proposal for you Kuroo.” Your father says, getting everyone's attention. “Would you be willing to let (y/n) ride with you on this job?”

“Excuse me?” You say, interrupting the conversation. “Why am I going? You never let me go anywhere, but suddenly I’m running drugs for you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms across your chest. 

“Well, sweetheart, I figured it was time.” Your father says, taking a step closer to stand in front of you. “I was around your age when your grandfather started allowing me to learn the ropes of our family’s business. You are the only one who can continue the Sakanoshita name. I think this is a good first job for you.” 

“For the record, it's no problem. She can ride with me. I promise she’ll be safe.” Kuroo says, inserting himself into the conversation between you and your father. 

“So, does this mean I finally have something to do? I can start leaving the house again?” You ask, hopeful that this decision from your father will mean more freedom. Things haven’t been the same since Keishin died, and your father kept you under a microscope, claiming it was for your safety. 

“We can talk about new safety rules after this job. Deal?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

“Deal.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. 

“Looks like the princess is growing up.” Kuroo comments, smirking at you. 

“Hope we don’t scare her too much.” Kita says jokingly. 

You scoffed at him, excitement growing inside of you as you realized this will be the start of you growing into a leadership position in the Sakanoshita family, becoming the face of this giant organization that ruled the Tokyo underground. “Nothing scares me.” 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your head together before the job. ‘What does a person bring to a drug smuggling? What does someone wear? Fucking jeans?’

‘No.’ you thought to yourself, grabbing a pair of leggings. What if you needed to run? Well then you need sneakers too. And a warm jacket, just in case. Do you bring a phone charger? Would it be weird to ask Kuroo to plug your phone in while you’re smuggling drugs together? 

“What the fuck am I doing.” You say out loud to yourself, beginning to question your own sanity. You let out a deep sigh, trying to clear your head. 

You eventually decide on leggings, sneakers, and a cross body fanny pack to hold your phone and smaller things. Before exiting your room, you hesitate. 

You make your way to your bedside table, opening the drawer and reaching to the back, pulling out a small handgun. You take it out, along with a note that was tucked underneath it. 

‘Stay safe. -Keishin’

This was a gift from your brother, before he passed. You kept it close by, both as protection and a heavy reminder. Your family name carried a lot of weight, which the both of you felt smothered by. You both understood the dark side of the luxury you lived with, saw the blood that stained your family’s money. But now, with him gone, it all fell on you. Everything depended on you. 

You make the decision to take it along with you, holstering it to your thigh. ‘Better safe than sorry’, you thought to yourself. A regular night could turn deadly in an instant, something that you were very familiar with given the way your brother passed. 

You exit your room and descend down the stairs, walking out the front door to where everyone was waiting with their cars. Oikawa was busy on his phone, and Kita was further away smoking a cigarette. Your father stood with Kuroo, most likely discussing the job. 

“Where’s Kenma?” You question, walking up to stand with Kuroo and your dad. 

“He’s back at the garage. Don’t worry, he has eyes and ears at us at all times.” Kuroo says, pointing at the earpiece he wore. “Here, one for you as well.” He hands you an ear piece, which you put in, immediately hearing the sounds of a video game, most likely from Kenma. 

“Are you ready?” Your father asks, turning towards you. You nod in response, and he looks over you, stopping and furrowing his eyebrows when he sees your gun. “Is a gun really necessary?”

“Keishin would have wanted me to bring it. Better safe than sorry, like he used to say.” You say, knowing that bringing up your brother was the easiest way to get your father to comply with whatever it was that you were doing. 

He nods, giving you a sad smile.  “You’re right. He was always the cautious one.” 

“The smart one too.” You say, smiling nostalgically. “Are we all ready to go?” You ask, turning to Kuroo. 

“Yup, all set.” He replies, swinging the passenger car door open for you. “I’ll have Snake Eyes let you know when we reach the ports, and again at the warehouse.” He says, turning to your father. 

“Perfect.” Your father says. He turns to look at you once more, then back at Kuroo. “Bring her back in one piece.” He says, holding out his hand. 

“You can count on me, sir.” He says, giving your father a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the business your family was involved in was always so masculine, so formal. It was something you would have to adjust to when you begin taking part in it. 

Kuroo closed your car door and nodded to the other two racers, who immediately got into their cars, turning their engines one. He climbs into the driver’s seat of his car, turning the key in the ignition, the loud roar of the engine startling you. He chuckles, realizing he made you jump. 

“Mic check. Roll call.” You hear Kenma say in your ear. 

“Tap once to speak, twice to mute.” Kuroo says, pointing to the earpiece. He taps once, and speaks. “DK here, with Princess in the passenger seat.” He says, grinning at you. 

“Ew, keep it PG-13 dude.” Kenma says, making you laugh. 

“Cypher, ready to roll.” You hear Oikawa say. 

“Sly fox.” Kita says shortly. 

“And Snake Eyes. Ready when you guys are. All clear on the short route to the ports, I’ll let you know if that changes. Stay safe everyone.” Kenma says, muting himself. 

“Alright, we all know the route, I’ll take the lead, Sly Fox you take rear. You already know the rules, don’t be stupid, and don’t get caught. I’ll check back in when we’re 5 away from the ports.” Kuroo says, taking the parking brake off and switching gears, the car beginning to move. 

Everyone mutes themselves and begins driving off, away from your wealthy neighborhood and towards the city’s industrial district. The Tokyo skyline was in your rear view mirror, and your heart beat faster and faster as you went further away from your home, the place that you’ve been stuck in for years now. 

“You don’t get out much do you?” Kuroo asks, breaking the silence. 

“Not really, no. My father doesn’t allow me to go many places now, ever since my brother died. He says it’s too risky, which I think is bullshit.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. 

Kuroo laughs. “I knew you weren’t just some obedient princess. Look at you, all rebellious.” 

“I’d be more rebellious if I were able to do anything. This...is my first time out of the house in 6 months. The last time was just for the dentist.” You say, awkwardly laughing at yourself. 

“Well, then we better make the most of it, right?” Kuroo says, switching gears, now going 105 km/h on the expressway. 

“Kuroo what if we get pulled over?” You ask nervously, knowing the risks he was taking just to show off. 

“Relax, (y/n), I know what I’m doing.” Kuroo says, flashing his signature grin at you. Everything about him drew you in, made you want to keep looking, to reach out and know him as more than just your father’s employee. 

“Kuroo, stop showing off. Just because there’s a pretty girl in the car doesn’t mean that you get to be cocky.” Kenma says in your ear, catching you both off guard. 

“Alright alright, take it easy Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece once, then double tapping again to mute. He begins slowing the car down to 80 km/h. 

You let out a small giggle, looking over at him. “You think I’m pretty?” You say in a mocking tone, leaning in closer to him. 

“I think you’re beautiful.” He says in a serious tone, catching you completely off guard. You begin to slowly back away from him, retreating back into your seat. 

“What?” You ask, not sure if you heard him right. 

“You’re beautiful. I’ve always thought so. As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for my extremely deep fear of your father, I’d want to take you out on a date.” He says, laughing. 

You laugh as well, suddenly a little sad about what he said. “Yeah, that’s too bad. I would’ve said yes.” You say, turning your face to give him a sad smile. 

He smirks at you, but his eyes drooped, giving them a sad, tired look. “Would’ve been a great first date.” 

After that exchange, you both remained quiet, lost in thought of what could have been. Thinking of the undeniable chemistry that drew the two of you together, but also the forces at play that kept you from colliding. What could have been, if circumstances were different, if the two of you were different. Normal. 

“Can I ask you something?” You ask him, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you. 

“Of course.” 

“What would you be, if you weren’t racing and working for my dad? Who would you be?” You were genuinely curious, because all you ever knew about Kuroo was that he was dealing before getting pulled into the Sakanoshita business, and that he raced with Nekoma. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He says, a smile growing on his face. 

“Try me.” 

“Well, I would be a student. Right before I got recruited by your family, I was in college. Chemistry major.” He says, peering over at you. 

“Chemistry?!” You ask, surprised by his answer. “You’re a science nerd?” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t say a nerd.” He says, laughing at your reaction. “In my senior year, I ran out of money. So, I started dealing. It wasn’t anything serious, but I guess I was pretty good at it. I ended up on your dad’s radar, and he took me in as a transporter and dealer. And so, here I am. No degree, but hey, I have a nice car.” 

“I’m sorry.” You say, almost out of instinct. It felt like the only right thing to say, even if it wasn’t something that was expected. 

“Sorry for what? Your dad giving me a job?” 

“You never got to graduate.” After saying this, it seems as though Kuroo realizes it as well, that he never got to finish school. “You were so close, but you got stuck with my family. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your schooling.” You say, meaning every word. You were sorry, and you couldn’t help the guilt you felt. After all, it was your family that pulled him into this world.

Kuroo stays silent for a few more moments, thinking over what you just said. He appears to snap out of it, switching back to his usual easy going, casual self. “Nothing to be sorry for, princess. Without your dad recruiting me, I would just be a broke bum with a lame car and no money to my name. Besides, I can go back and finish things up someday. But for right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.” He looks over at you and winks, making you laugh. “What about you? Where would the yakuza princess be if she wasn’t a mob boss in training?” 

You paused, not knowing how to answer. “I actually don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, because there really isn’t a future for me outside of the family business.” You say, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. 

Kuroo frowned, thinking of a response. “Well, hypothetically, what would you be doing? Let’s say, in an alternate universe, where we’re just normal people, living normal, legal lives. What would (y/n) be?” 

“A teacher.” You say proudly, without hesitation. “Or a professor. Definitely education.” 

“A teacher?!” Kuroo asks, laughing. “How do you go from yakuza boss to teacher?” 

You laugh, realizing just how ridiculous it sounds. “What, you said normal! If I had a choice to be normal, I’d want to be a teacher, in a small town. I think I’d be a good teacher!” You say, defending your choice. 

“Okay, okay. I guess I can see you as a teacher.” Kuroo says, still grinning from ear to ear. “But, the hot teacher. With a gang tattoo.” He says, referencing the giant koi fish tattoo you have on your shoulder. 

“No!” you exclaimed, laughing loudly with him. “I want to be the generic teacher, with cardigans and sensible shoes and house cats to come home to. I’d grade papers and mentor kids, and just be free to be as boring as I want to be.” 

“Y’know, maybe I can see it.” Kuroo says, smiling at you. You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach every time he gave you that smile, the kind of smile that made your day so much better by simply existing. “Maybe someday we can be boring together.” 

The profound silence that followed that sentence spoke volumes to the both of you, almost as a silent prayer to the universe, begging for a chance to be boring together. However, that silence was broken by Kenma in your ear, bringing you both back to the reality you both began to dread.

“5 minutes out, turn your headlights off.” 

“Going dark. Thanks Snake Eyes.” You hear Kita say. Kuroo flicks his lights off, leaving only the street lamps to light the way. 

“What container should we be looking for?” Oikawa asks. 

Kuroo replies, reading out a series of letters and numbers. “The boss gave me an idea of where to go, I think we’ll have to get out to look around though. Snake Eyes, you got eyes on the port? Any trouble?” 

“Nope, all clear. Limited street lamps though, you may need a car for some light.” 

“Got it. I’ll let you know when we find the container. Let us know if anything suspicious catches your eye.” Kuroo says, muting himself once again. As you enter the industrial port, Kuroo begins taking a series of turns, leading you deep into the maze of containers. The further you got, the number of street lamps began rapidly decreasing, and you became very familiar with the reason why it’s called shady business. 

Kuroo flicked his lights on, and you kept an eye out for the shipping container, or at least one that was close to the number you were looking for. 

“I think I got something.” You hear Kita say, flashing his lights behind you, to signal for everyone to stop. Kuroo turns around, putting his car in park and leaving the lights on, pointing at a shipping container with the exact identification numbers you were looking for. 

“Nice work Sly Fox.” Kuroo says, patting him on the back. You stood close by the car as the three men approached the container, Kuroo pulling a key out of his pocket and unlocking the giant lock that secured the container. 

As he swung open the door to the container, the scent was strong, but familiar. It smelled like… 

“Tobacco?” You ask, walking closer to the container. 

“Cuban cigars.” Kita says, laughing as he walked further into the container. 

“Hey Snake Eyes, let the boss know we’re in the container. 30 bricks right?” Kuroo asks into his ear piece. 

 “I’ll let him know. And yes, 30 exactly. He left a note in the file that said you may have to look around a bit for the cargo. Also, Sly Fox, don’t take any cigars.” Kenma says, right as Kita was stuffing a handful of cigars into his pocket. Kita reluctantly returns them to the pile they were taken from. 

“Got it, 30 pieces of cargo. We’ll make contact again once they’ve been located.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece twice. “Okay, 30 bricks. Let’s start from the back and make our way out, whenever you find one, take it straight out to my car. Princess, you’re the look out.” 

“Why do I have to be the look out?” You protest. 

“You can’t reach the top of the containers, chica.” Oikawa points out, putting his hand on one of the shipping boxes that towered over you. Kuroo snickered, walking up to you. 

“Just stay outside, kitten. Let us know if there’s any big bad guys coming?” Kuroo says, putting his arm around you and walking you outside. 

You rolled your eyes and shrugged his arm off. “Whatever, just hurry up, it’s freezing out here.” 

You stand outside, staring out to the distant city lights, listening to the quiet waves that lapped against the side of the port. Kuroo came and went, bringing cigar boxes filled with cocaine out to his car. 

After the 12th box, he noticed you were crouched down with your arms tucked into your jacket, the arms of your jacket swinging in the breeze. He laughs, walking up to you. 

“Cold?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“Maybe.” You answered through chattering teeth. You stand up, looking up at him. He towered over you, meaning you had to crane your neck in order to meet his gaze. 

“Here.” He says, taking the red bomber jacket off his body and wrapping it around you, using it as an opportunity to pull you closer to him. “Your dad might slice my head off if you catch a cold.” He whispers into your ear, making you laugh. 

“How’re we doing guys?” Kenma asks through the ear piece.

“A little under halfway done. Anything we should be worried about?” Kuroo says. 

“Nope, still all clear. Just let me know when you’re done and heading out.” Kenma says, muting himself. 

“Back to work.” Kuroo says, pulling you in tighter for a moment before letting you go. You stood there, warm under his jacket, wrapped up in the lingering scent of his cologne that remained. You wanted to freeze time, to live in this moment of calm, feeling protected just by the residual presence of Kuroo. 

They continued on, carrying cigar boxes out of the container and into Kuroo’s trunk. Every once in a while you’d hear hushed conversations from inside the container, too quiet for you to hear. 

“This is the last of it.” Oikawa says, walking out of the container with Kuroo. They each had 4 boxes in their hands, which they placed in the back of Kuroo’s car. 

“Ready to go?” Kita says, popping up next to you out of nowhere, causing you to jump. 

“Jesus, where did you even come from?” You ask, startled by his sudden appearance. 

Kita smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “They don’t call me sly fox for nothing.” He says, walking back to his car. Kuroo was busy closing up the container, securing it and making it appear as if we were never there. Oikawa was leaning over the trunk of Kuroo’s car, arranging the boxes of drugs underneath a spare blanket. 

“Snake Eyes, you there?” Kuroo asks, walking back to the car. 

“Yup, all ready to go?” Kenma responds. 

“Ready when you are.” Kuroo says, walking over to your car door and holding it open for you. You climb in, ready to get out of the cold. Kuroo closes the door, and continues to talk to Kenma through his ear piece. You figured out that Kenma had made it so their communications wouldn’t be heard through your ear piece. You couldn’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but you assumed it’s some info about the drive to the warehouse. 

You watch as Kuroo leans in to tell Oikawa something, which he nods in agreeance to before walking back to his car and getting in. Kuroo then walks around to his side of the car, turning it on and beginning to pull out of the dark alleyway of the port. 

“Ready to roll, princess?” He asks, turning to flash you a grin. 

“The faster the better.” You say jokingly. He laughs, revving his engine loudly. 

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, speeding up as the three cars leave the port and enter the expressway. 

“DK, stop showing off.” You hear Oikawa say through the ear piece. 

Kuroo rolls his eyes, taking his foot off the gas to slow down. “Buzzkill.” He mutters under his breath. 

You rode in silence together, heading towards the warehouse your father owns. The warehouse was a front, being used as storage for the goods your father exported in his legal business. For the illegal business, it was used as a storage and distribution center for the underground dealings. 

“DK, we have a problem.” Kenma says. 

“Talk to me Snake Eyes.” 

“We’ve got some cops heading your way. The boss texted saying someone may have tipped them off to tonight’s job. Apparently the king of Tokyo has some enemies.” 

“That’s one way to put it.” You mutter to yourself. Your father had more enemies than allies, meaning that there was a constant target on the backs of every member of the family. It’s no surprise that something went wrong tonight. 

“Which way are they coming from?” Kuroo asks. 

“West. I think they’re gonna intercept you soon. At least 2 cars, and I’m pretty sure they’re looking for you.” 

“Shit.” Kuroo whispers to himself. “Cypher, Sly Fox, you there?” 

“Heard it all, DK. What’s the next move?” Cypher asks. 

“Sly Fox, take the lead. Take the back route, go straight to the warehouse, fast as you can. Cypher, take the rear behind Sly Fox, if you run into any trouble you’re the diversion. Got it?” Kuroo says, his voice taking on a new tone of authority. 

“Roger that. When should we check in with you?” Sly Fox asks. 

“I’ll make contact when we’re free. Just get in touch with Snake Eyes when the delivery is made.” 

“And (y/n)?” Kita asks. Kuroo turned toward you with an expression of deep thought on his face. 

“She’ll stay with me. We’ll be fine.” Kuroo says firmly, turning his eyes back to the road. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him. Given the circumstances, you probably shouldn’t, but some part of you just impulsively put all your faith in him, trusting that being in his car was the best place for you to be.

You hear Oikawa chuckle. “Have fun princesa. I hope DK doesn’t scare you away.” 

“Shut your mouth, amigo.” Kuroo says mockingly. “I’ll see you both later. Be safe.” He says, muting himself. 

You look behind you to see Kita’s car already in front of Oikawa’s, and you see them both exit off of the expressway, their engines revving as they sped off, out of sight. 

“Maybe I’m pointing out the obvious, but aren’t you the one with the delivery to make?” You say, growing worried by Kuroo’s plan. 

“Don’t worry about it princess. Just trust me.” Kuroo says, revving his engine loudly, rapidly increasing speed. 

“You have 20 bricks of cocaine in your trunk and you’re telling me not to worry?!” You exclaim, turning your body to face him. 

“Or do I?” He asks, glancing over and smirking at you. This question caught you off guard, making you wonder if this guy was crazy or stupid, or both. 

“On your left!” You hear Kenma say, moments before two police cars appeared behind you two, struggling to keep up with Kuroo’s speed. 

You slumped back in your seat, trying to find it in yourself to trust Kuroo. The police sirens grew louder and the red and blue flashing lights started to draw closer, but somehow, Kuroo remained calm, not even bothering to increase speed. 

Your heart raced as the police cars began getting closer and closer, nearly pulling up right beside you. 

“Hey princess, ever wondered what DK stood for?” Kuroo asks calmly.

“Fucking Donkey Kong?!” You yell at him, having no patience for his games. 

He laughed at your stressed demeanor, throwing his head back and shaking his head. “Nope. Not even close.” He switches gears, causing the car to slow down quickly and making the cops draw far ahead of you. He veers off to the side, seemingly to take the ramp that curved to exit the freeway. Suddenly, he speeds up yet again, turning his wheel suddenly as the car begins drifting on it’s side. 

“Drift King.” He says with a smirk. The car drifted down the ramp, screeching as Kuroo pulled the emergency brake up and maneuvered the steering wheel to keep it steady. You were familiar with drifting, due to the fact your brother was involved in street racing before his death. You knew that it was something that only experienced drivers could do, and it took a certain level of skill and a lot of practice to perfect. You realized that this meant Kuroo was a skilled driver, far more skilled than you realized. No wonder they called him Drift King. 

By the time the two of you reached the end of the ramp and began racing down the industrial district street, the cops just began heading down the ramp, trying their hardest to keep up. 

The chase continued on for several blocks, Kuroo barely breaking a sweat. It seemed as though this wasn’t his first chase. After some time, Kenma’s voice comes through on the ear piece. 

“Hey DK, you may want to end this chase. They’re calling for backup soon.” 

“Got it, I’ll pull over now. Thanks Snake Eyes.” Kuroo replies, beginning to slow down. 

“Pull over?!” You ask him. 

“Just trust me! You think I’d put you in danger?” He asks you, grinning. The car comes to a stop, and the two police cars quickly pull over as well. 

“Give me your ear piece.” Kuroo says quickly, the two police officers quickly approaching the car. You quickly hand it to him, which he shoves in the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Sir, please exit the car. You as well, ma’am.” The officer says, shining his light in Kuroo’s car. The two of you exit the car, standing in front of the headlights. 

“Now, what in god’s name were you doing?” He asks, as the other officer begins searching the car. 

“He was just being a show off.” You say, lying on the spot. Kuroo looks surprised by your sudden statement, but plays it off, acting natural. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Just trying to impress a pretty girl.” He says, putting his arm around you and kissing the side of your forehead. Although it was just an act, your stomach still did somersaults just with that one simple action. 

“I see.” The officer says, shining the light at your gun. “You have a license to carry that ma’am?” 

“Yes sir. Just a personal protection piece.” You say, pulling your driver’s license as well as gun registration out. You hand it to the officer, who looks it over. 

“Sakanoshita?” He asks with fake surprise, looking up at you. 

“Yes, my father. I’m sure you know him.” You say, knowing that the name Sakanoshita held a lot of clout in the city. 

“We're familiar with him.” He says shortly, handing the papers back to you. “Anything?” He asks, turning towards the other officer who was peering into the car. 

“Nothing. Mind popping the trunk?” He asks Kuroo. Your heart begins to race, knowing what they would find. Kuroo however, remained cool as a cucumber, sauntering over to the car to open the trunk. He walks back to you with a grin, standing behind you and draping his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body. You grab his hands, bracing yourself for the big reveal. 

“Now what do we have here?” The officer says, ripping the blanket off of the boxes. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. The officers pause, opening one of the boxes. 

“Cigars?” They ask. You open your eyes, looking up at Kuroo as he continues to grin at you. 

“Yes sir, we were on our way back to her place, to deliver them to her dad. You know, the infamous Mr. Sakanoshita.” Kuroo lies with ease. 

“They’re gifts, for some associates of his.” You say, joining in on the lie. “He’s hosting a little get together tomorrow. I believe your boss, the police chief, will be there. It’d be a shame if he heard you pulled over a Sakanoshita.” You knew exactly what you were doing, using your name for your own benefit. 

“I see.” He says, closing the box of cigars and putting it back down. “Just some Cuban cigars I suppose.” He closes the trunk, walking to where you and Kuroo stood. 

“And I suppose the speeding was because the old man is waiting on these cigars, huh?” The other officer says, standing next to his partner. 

“Exactly.” Kuroo says. “Not exactly the best idea to get on the bad side of your girlfriend’s father, right?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

Surprisingly, the cops laugh. “You got your work cut out for you kid. Sakanoshita is not an easy man to win over.” 

“Yeah, his daughter isn’t any easier.” Kuroo says, pulling you closer. You laugh along, wishing for this interaction to end already. 

“I’ll tell you what.” The officer says, taking a few steps closer to the two of you. The headlights from the car streaked behind him, casting a dark shadow over you and Kuroo. “You two can go ahead home, just make sure not to mention this to your dad. Or our boss. Sound good?” 

“Perfect. Have a good night you two.” You say, hurriedly pulling Kuroo back to the car. 

“Sorry for the trouble!” Kuroo calls out as the two men walk back to their patrol cars. 

Once the two of you are back in the car, you breathe deeply, staring into space. 

“You alright princess?” Kuroo asks, turning towards you. 

You snap out of it, punching him in the arm. He jumps back in pain, looking shocked at your outburst. 

“Cigars?!” You question him, unable to form a full sentence. He laughs, throwing his head back. 

“Yes, cigars. I told you I didn’t have any drugs back there, didn’t I?” he says, grinning slyly at you. 

“Then who the hell has the coke?” You ask sternly, adrenaline still pumping from that run in with the cops. 

“Think about it.” Kuroo says, turning his whole body to face you. “Where do you think the drugs are?” 

You thought about it, the entire night, all the interactions that occurred. Only one person stood out to you, which was- 

“Sly Fox.” You say, realizing the stunt that they had just pulled off. “Kita. I never would have seen him take anything to his car, he’s too sneaky. I had my back turned to his car because it was up against a container, no one could have come from over there. That’s why you had him go straight to the warehouse. It’s all in Kita’s car.”

“Well look who figured it out. Good job princess.” Kuroo says, leaning back in his seat. 

“But why take the cigars? And why not tell me the plan?” You question him, not satisfied with the answer you had come up with. 

“In case of a situation exactly like this. Insurance, in case everything went wrong. An alibi.” He says peering over at you. “And, well, I wanted to test you. See if you could take the heat.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I wanted to see how you’d handle yourself, with your back to the wall. I wanted to see if you trust me.” He says, with a small smile on his face. 

“Didn’t really give me much of a choice but whatever.” You grumble quietly. 

Kuroo laughs, looking over at you. “You did great, princess. You’ll be a mob boss in no time. I hope you’ll let me keep my job, though.” 

You let out a tired scoff, exhausted by the adrenaline rush that had come and gone. “Just- please keep me in the loop about things like this. If you can do that then maybe you can keep working for me.” 

“DK, everything good?” You hear Kenma say through the ear pieces that were still in Kuroo’s pocket. He dug them out, handing you one which you placed in your ear. 

“Yup, crisis averted. Have you heard from Sly Fox and Cypher?” Kuroo asks. 

“We’re right here boss. Delivery has been made, just waiting on your order.” You hear Kita say. 

“Meet us back at the boss’s house, me and the princess have one last loose end to tie up and then we’ll head over.” Kuroo says, starting the car. 

Kuroo heads back in the direction of the ports, and you assume it’s so that the 20 cigars could be returned to the container. Once again, the two of you ride in comfortable silence, your mind wandering as you gazed at the distant city lights. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Kuroo asks, bringing you back to reality.

“My brother.” You answer without hesitation. “If things were different, it’d probably be him doing this job with you. Maybe not in the passenger seat, but still. The family legacy would be his.” You felt a pit grow in your stomach, your eyes suddenly tearing up. You always had these lingering feelings of doubt, but you never realized it was because of Keishin, having to be in his shadow. No one ever bet on you, or thought you were going to be the one inheriting the empire. Regardless, you were there, because your brother wasn’t. 

“Well, no offense to the great Black Lung but I for one am glad you’re here. No one else I’d rather have in my passenger seat.” He says, giving you a sincere smile, one that you haven’t seen before. It was different from his flirtatious smirk, or his arrogant grin. It was just a simple, kind smile. 

Black Lung?” You questioned. 

“Your brother’s racing name. Y’know, like DK, Cypher, Sly Fox. He used to smoke like 6 packs a day, even more than Kita. He was kind of a big deal in the racing scene. After he passed, Karasuno didn’t race for a long time because there was no one that could replace him. They’re slowly getting back on the road, but your brother is definitely still a driver people remember.” Kuroo explains, pulling into the port once again. 

“He smoked?” You asked, trying to remember a time you saw him with a cigarette. You assumed it was because he only smoked when he was away from the house, because it was something that your father would have never approved of. You were pretty sure Keishin would’ve been disowned if he smoked or drank in front of  your father.

“Yeah, all the time. That was his whole thing. Did he not smoke around you?” Kuroo asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

“No, I guess he never smoked around our family. I don’t think my dad knew either if he only smoked when he raced.” You pause for a moment. “Do you know anything about it? The accident?” You ask, growing more and more curious about what Kuroo knew. Your brother’s death was always explained to you by members of your family, and you wondered if there was something that they didn’t know that the racers did. 

Kuroo paused, an expression of deep thought in his face. He looked as though he was trying to figure out the exact sentences he would say next. “All I’ve heard is that…there was an explosion. I think his girlfriend was near it at the time, and she got injured. That’s all I know though, no one really talks about it much because of how bad it hurt everyone. A lot of people cared about him.” 

“He had a girlfriend?” You ask, turning towards Kuroo as he puts the car in park. 

He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, some chick named Saeko. I think she has a younger brother that races nowadays. I’m pretty sure she’s still a mechanic for the team.” Kuroo pauses, looking out towards the port. “Look, I don’t know too much about the accident. And I assume your dad doesn’t want you looking into it too hard. But if you do want to know more, just let me know. I’ll talk to some guys from Karasuno. Sounds good?” He asks you.

You nod in agreeance, knowing that there had to be a reason why Keishin was so secretive, and why your father is still keeping secrets about his death to this day. “Okay. If you end up talking to Saeko, could I come along? I just...I feel like I’m getting to know my brother all over again. I want to know the side of him that he hid from our family.” 

“Of course. Now c’mon, let's get these cigars back where they came from.” Kuroo says, getting out of the car and popping the trunk. You follow him, getting out and standing next to him. 

The two of you silently put the cigars back, working quickly to get the job completely finished. By the time Kuroo was closing the container door, Oikawa came through in the ear piece. 

“Hey love birds, are you heading back to the house soon?” he asks. Kuroo rolls his eyes and unmutes himself. 

“We’re heading back now from the port. Snake Eyes, you told the boss the delivery was made already, right?”

“Yup, I let him know. He’s waiting for you guys at the house.” Kenma replies. 

“Sounds good, we’ll be there soon. Cypher, Sly Fox, go ahead and start heading over now.” 

“Will do. See you soon DK.” Sly Fox says. 

“C’mon princess, let’s go home.” Kuroo says, throwing his arm over you as the two of you walk back to the car. You take the hand he had on your shoulder into your own, squeezing tightly. It was strange how natural it felt, being with Kuroo. It was almost as if it was where you belonged, with him, wrapped up in his arms. 

You climb back into the car, watching Kuroo as he starts the car and begins driving off once again. Your head was spinning trying to make sense of everything that had occurred that night, as well as processing all the new information Kuroo had told you about your brother. You knew this day had to come, when you would have to jump in head first into the world your family operated within, when you would have to fully take on the Sakanoshita name and all the responsibilities that come with it. 

As Kuroo rolls up to the driveway of your home, you see Oikawa and Kita standing outside with your father, smoke billowing from where the three of them were conversing. 

“Tetsurou! (y/n)! I was beginning to wonder when you’d be back!” Your father says, cutting another cigar and handing it to Kuroo, motioning for him to join the group. 

“Cubans? What’s the occasion?” You ask your father, standing next to Kuroo. 

“Your first job, sweetheart. And with no casualties, no arrests, a clean job deserves a little reward.” Your father says, grinning at you, holding out a cigar for you to take. 

“Dad, I don’t smoke.” You say, laughing. 

“Oh c’mon, the most powerful man in Tokyo offers you a cigar, you take the cigar.” Oikawa says, smirking and letting out another cloud of smoke. 

You roll your eyes, taking the cigar and allowing your father to light it. You thought more about the cigar as you drew the smoke in, about what it meant for you to be invited to smoke with your father. It meant that you were finally owning your family name, you were finally a true Sakanoshita. 

You stood there silently, listening as Kuroo explained to your father the decision he made to use Kita as the real transport and to make himself the emergency decoy. Your father listened as well, nodding along with an expression of deep thought on his face. 

“Great thinking Tetsurou. That is exactly why I keep you on my payroll.” Your father laughs, smacking his hand against Kuroo’s back. Kuroo laughs as well, putting on his usual submissive attitude that he uses with your father to gain his good graces. 

“Let’s just hope your daughter keeps me on when she takes over.” Kuroo jokes, nudging you with his elbow. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve earned your place with the whole family.” Your father says, smiling at you. “Say, isn’t that Tetsurou’s jacket?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You say, realizing you still had it on. “It got cold at the ports.” 

“It’s funny. You’re starting to look more and more like him.” Your father says, eyes squinting as he smiles sadly. 

“Like who? DK?” Kita asks with a cigar hanging out of his mouth. 

“Keishin. The racing jacket, the gun. Even the smoking.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, remembering the conversation you had with Kuroo about your brother. Your suspicions about your father kept growing, and it became harder and harder to believe his mourning father act, the smoke and mirrors he used to deceive everyone. 

“Well, you know how much I adored him.” You say, taking another puff from your cigar. You and your father both pause, staring one another down. There was noticeable tension, but with no clear reason. Nothing more than a gut feeling. 

The staredown was cut off by Kuroo clearing his throat, getting both yours and your father’s attention. “It’s getting pretty late, we don’t want to keep the two of you from a good night’s rest.” He says, finding a way for the three racers to leave. 

“Yes, it is getting rather late. Oh! Better not forget these. Tetsurou, I put your friend’s pay for tonight with yours.” Your father says, moving away from the staircase leading up to the front door to reveal three paper bags with names on them, which you assume was full of money. 

“Thank you sir. I’ll make sure to get it to Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, bowing to your father. Kita and Oikawa follow suit, bowing before grabbing their bags. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Kita says, walking back to his car. 

“See you next time boss. You too, princesa.” Oikawa says, waving to the both of you before getting into his car. 

“So, you’ll let me know when there’s another job?” Kuroo asks as Oikawa and Kita begin pulling out of the driveway. 

“Absolutely.” He nods, turning to face both of you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get inside before your mother comes out here and drags me back in. Have a good night, Tetsurou.” He says, going back inside. It was once again just you and Kuroo. 

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You say, beginning to take off Kuroo’s red bomber jacket. 

“Keep it.” He says, taking a step closer to you. He places the jacket back onto your shoulders. “I’ll be back for it eventually.” 

The two of you pause, staring into each other’s eyes. It felt like a moment that you could live in forever, relishing the comfort that Kuroo gave you. 

“Thanks for having my back tonight. You sure know how to think on your feet.” Kuroo says. 

“Not like I had much of a choice.” You say, remembering the moment earlier in the night. A part of you wished it wasn’t a lie, that you and Kuroo were just two lovers out for a drive. Nothing illegal, nothing scary, just a guy with a car and the girl in the passenger seat. 

“Come here, princess.” Kuroo says, pulling you into a tight hug. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden act of affection. You wrap your arms around him, feeling perfectly at home in his arms, being squeezed tightly against his body. 

“Please be careful. I don’t trust your father.” Kuroo whispers into your ear. You realize the real reason why he hugged you, so that he could tell you this message in secret. “I’ll talk to some people from Karasuno Killers and see if you can meet Keishin’s girl. He’s hiding something, (y/n).” 

“How do you know? What are you talking about?” You ask, holding him tighter. 

“(y/n), how would your father know that Keishin smoked? If he lied about that, then we don’t know what else he’s hiding.” Kuroo responds. Your breath catches in your throat, remembering what your father had said, about your sudden resemblance to Keishin. 

Racing jacket, gun, smoke. 

[fruitcoops]

hey babes (can i call you babes?), could you write remus pranking sirius by walking around the house with tremzy’s jersey because he knows that is an irrational jealousy trigger, sirius going crazy about it and remus laughing his ass off? love your fics btw 😘

You can absolutely call me ‘babes’ if you like, thanks for asking! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove <3 Welcome to the shameless smutfest, everyone! This is the longest smut I’ve ever written, combined with the prompts below:

1. Coops aftercare

2. Sirius teasing Remus

3. Coops trying something new in bed

TW for subspace/ subdrop (fairly mild), light spanking (over clothes), smut, praise kink, and lots of teasing

There were a few things Sirius Black prided himself on above all else, including (but not limited to) winning a Stanley Cup, becoming Harry’s godfather, and scoring Remus Lupin as his husband. However, when it came to actual talents, the one he was proudest of was his kissing ability.

Sirius Black was a damn good kisser and he knew it. He had plenty of experience, after all, and thoroughly enjoyed it; now that the recipient was his drop-dead gorgeous husband, he took even more pleasure in brushing up once in a while. In fact, his entire plan for the day revolved around his ability to make Remus fall to pieces with just a few touches of his lips.

They woke up slow and lazy, letting the July sunlight warm their backs through the window as the replacement fan they bought rattled away downstairs. Remus’ fingers were cold as he traced Sirius’ jaw—of course they are, Sirius thought with a smile—but he watched him with soft, sweet caramel eyes.

With gentle pressure, Sirius pushed him onto his back and captured his lips, carding one hand through his mussed curls. Remus draped his arms over his shoulders as Sirius splayed both hands over his ribs and drew those pretty noises out.

Remus took an unsteady breath, already too addled to nip and suck at his lips—Sirius doubled down and slid his thumb along the dip of Remus’ collarbone, rubbing it in the hollow of his throat until he felt a tremor rock through him and a leg come up to wrap around his hip.

“This is a—oh—a good way to—unh—wake up,” Remus panted, his shaky hands tangling in the grown-out hair at Sirius’ neck. He hummed in agreement, scraping his teeth along that pillowy upper lip; Remus let out a keening sound and ground his hips up, drowning in kisses.

Sirius pulled away with as much self-control as he could muster and rolled back to his side of the bed, trying his absolute best to look casual. “Morning, mon loup. The market opens in about half an hour, so we should get a move on before it gets too crowded.”

A heavy beat of silence passed as Remus blinked at him, his mouth still open and lips redder than ripe strawberries. “Huh?”

Sirius didn’t laugh at his voice crack, but it was a close call. “The farmer’s market, remember? Those cantaloupes you like are in season.”

“Huh?”

“Cantaloupe. It’s the same in English and French, I checked.” He leaned over for the most chaste and quick of kisses, grinning at the heat still radiating off Remus’ body. He looked absolutely befuddled and more than a little desperate as Sirius sat up with a pat to his hip. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, come back!” Remus hooked his fingers in the waistband of Sirius’ sweats to bring him back, but Sirius just calmly stepped out of them and headed into the bathroom to wash his face, studiously ignoring the pathetic groan from the other room. “You’re gonna leave me like this?”

“I’m heading out in twenty minutes,” Sirius called through the door, pausing to laugh silently. “You’re welcome to join if you like!”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment!”

He raised his head from the sink, half-blind around the water. “I gave you kisses!”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“I love you!”

Muffled grumbling answered him, along with the rustling of sheets as Remus clambered out of bed on—yep, there’s the stumble—very shaky legs to get dressed. “You’d better get in here and finish what you started, or I’m getting myself off.”

“Do that and you won’t get what I’m planning to give you tonight,” Sirius singsonged.

The bathroom door swung open; Remus’ murderous glare was somewhat lessened by his thoroughly kissed dishevelment. He paused for a second, then jabbed his pointer finger at Sirius. “It better be fucking good. Also, good morning, I love you.”

He grinned around his toothbrush. “There it is.”

“Is this payback for something?”

“Maybe I just like seeing you squirm for once.”

Remus wrinkled his nose and threw Sirius’ sweatpants at him. “This is definitely payback for something.”

--------------------------------------

The farmer’s market was lovely, partially because of the sunny day and partially because Remus let him keep his hand in his back pocket the whole time. They strolled down the sidewalks, chatting with vendors about summer plans and figuring out what to eat for the rest of the week so they wouldn’t need to pick anything up at the grocery store.

And every once in a while, when he felt like Remus was getting a little too comfortable, Sirius would give his ass a light squeeze.

The reaction was predictable: a catch in the throat, a clench in his jaw, a small, shocked exhale as his eyes fluttered shut for a half-second. Sirius had the decency to wait until he wasn’t talking to a vendor; he wanted to make him horny, not humiliated.

Once Hattie started to get tired and they had collected a variety of necessities, including two cantaloupes that made Remus’ whole face light up, Sirius took his wrist in his hand and pulled it toward his face. Remus’ knees visibly went weak as Sirius checked the time on his watch, skimming a thumb over the perfectly-healed tattoo below it.

“Just past noon. Right on time, mon amour.”

“Sometimes, I think you like that watch more than I do,” Remus muttered, clutching the bag of vegetables in his other hand with white knuckles.

Sirius hummed noncommittally and kissed the sensitive skin of his pulse point, holding his lips there until Remus looked like he was having a hard time swallowing. “Ready to head home?”

“God, yes.”

“Great!” Sirius put his most chipper smile on and linked their fingers together, internally reveling in the clumsy, clammy grip of his husband’s hand. Round two is a success.

As soon as the door to their house closed and Hattie flopped down on her bed by the fan, Remus gave him an expectant look, tugging on the front of his shirt with a glance toward the stairs. He was flushed with anticipation—Sirius almost felt bad when he kissed him sweetly and carried their groceries into the kitchen to fill the cabinets.

There was a frustrated huff from the hallway and, just as he was finishing with the fruit bowl, two arms wrapped tight around his waist as a mouth slid along his neck. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey.” Remus pushed his hips against Sirius’ ass and started sucking a hickey just below his ear, but Sirius turned around and headed toward the living room before any mark could appear.

“I’m going to fix the fan in the backyard, okay?”

“Fine,” Remus gritted out.

“You sound tense, honey.” He grinned over his shoulder as he hefted the box fan and knocked the backdoor open with his hip. “Ça va?”

“I’m just—” Remus waved his hand around for a second. “I’m just gonna finish putting stuff away. Maybe take a cold shower.”

“Make sure to drink something, too. It’s hot outside.” With a quick, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink, Sirius headed into the backyard.

Forty minutes passed, during which time he almost forgot about his plan while he wrestled with levers and bolts. Just as his forehead began to itch from a mixture of sweat and gear grease, he felt eyes prickling the back of his neck from the house and raised an eyebrow, grabbing his shirt off the ground to wipe the back of his neck.

“Bonjour.”

“What’s going on out here?”

Sirius shrugged, watching Remus’ eyes track the movement of his shoulders. “Trop chaud.”

“Really?”

“Quoi?”

Remus tilted his head back, muttering under his breath, before he leveled Sirius with a look that crackled like lightning down his spine. “Will you at least tell me what I did to deserve this?”

“Qui a dit—”

“Nope, nope, nope.” Remus made a timeout motion, though Sirius noted the high blush on his cheeks. “The kissing and the groping was…” He pressed his lips together for a moment and satisfaction bloomed in Sirius’ gut. “It was something, but is the French necessary?”

“C’est ma langue maternelle!” Sirius protested around his smirk.

“Yeah, I know it’s your first language,” Remus groaned, resting his forehead on the doorjamb. “I need to take another shower.”

“Non, mon loup, revenir!” Sirius laughed, reaching toward him.

Remus gave him a playful glare as he crossed the yard. “Are you going to be horrible to me again?”

“Peut-être.” Perhaps. He nudged the fan away with his foot as Remus straddled his lap, brushing his sweat-soaked bangs out of the way for a lingering kiss. “Salut, mon coeur.”

Remus’ smile got bigger and he pressed closer, nibbling his lower lip. “There it is.”

“Le francais? C’est t’a excite?”

“Peut-etre,” Remus mimicked. “The French always gets me, but the nickname tells me you’ll be nice.”

“Vraiment?”

He let his head tilt as Sirius mouthed along his neck, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Mhmm. We should go inside.”

“I have to finish the fan,” he murmured, biting down just enough to make him gasp.

“Finish it later.”

“We’ll get too hot if I leave it.”

“Don’t care.” Remus’ breaths were coming faster and shallower. “Come on, baby, don’t leave me hanging.”

Sirius hummed and moved back to his mouth, feeling him turn to putty in his palms. He kissed him deep for a few seconds, then pulled back just enough that Remus leaned in for more. “You’re a good boy, you can handle it.”

A whole rollercoaster of emotions crossed Remus’ face: shuddering arousal at the pet name, then confusion at his words, then utter shock, and finally heartwrenching disappointment when he realized. “No.”

“Oui.”

“No.”

Sirius kissed him once more. “Combien de fois que j’ai été patient?”

A small whine slipped through his plush lips and he squeezed Sirius’ waist between his thighs. “Can’t translate, baby, please—”

“How many times have I been patient for you?” Sirius repeated, forcing himself to be calm even though his hands wanted to shake as they slid along smooth, freckled skin.

Remus tensed as he began tracing his ribs and leaned into the touch. “A lot,” he finally admitted.

“A lot,” Sirius agreed. “Do you want me to remind you what happened on Valentine’s Day?”

“Very good things,” Remus said with a devilish grin. “As I recall, you were the instigator and I only made you wait ten minutes.”

“Eleven and a half, actually.” Sirius licked a stripe up his shower-fresh neck and he shivered, even in the mid-afternoon heat. “What time did we get up this morning?”

“Fuck—uh, um, eight? Nine?”

“Eight forty-five.” Remus’ knees slid further apart on the grass. “Can you use that big brain of your to do some math for me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Eleven and a half hours from eight forty-five is…?”

Remus’ eyes snapped open. “You’re kidding.”

Sirius made a buzzer noise. “Wrong.”

“If you make me wait until eight fucking pm—”

“Eight fifteen, actually.” Sirius blew a breath over the slick side of his neck and Remus’ jaw tightened. “Think you can make it?”

“No.”

“I think you can. You’re very stubborn, you know,” he said conversationally as he tried to detangle Remus’ limbs from his own.

“I’m not letting go until you promise to fuck me before eight pm.”

“I will shake you off me.”

“Do it. I dare you.”

With a groan, Sirius got to his feet and prayed the neighbors wouldn’t see them as he tried to pry Remus off him; he gave up after thirty seconds, when they were both laughing too hard to keep going. He cupped that impish face between his hands and squished his cheeks. “I promise we’ll go to bed before eight.”

Easy as pie, Remus unlocked his ankles from Sirius’ lower back and slid down with a satisfied little smile, kissing the hinge of his jaw. “Merci beaucoup.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, making the fatal mistake of turning his back on Sirius while still within arm’s reach—he yelped at the sharp smack of Sirius’ palm on his ass, whipping around with wide eyes.

“Neighbors!”

“Worth it.”

“And you call me insatiable,” Remus laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll be inside when you’re done, waiting patiently like a war widow while our dog tries to eat socks.”

“It’s a beautiful day!”

“I’m not getting sunburned, Sirius!” he called over his shoulder. “We have plans that don’t involve aloe, remember?”

“They could!”

“Nope!”

------------------------------------

Sirius caught him once more before going upstairs for a shower; despite the grease streaking his skin and the sweat making him sticky, Remus let himself be pushed against the kitchen counter with a moan. In all honesty, Sirius was getting a little tired of the game—a significant part of him was considering bending Remus over the cool marble then and there. It wasn’t like he would get any sweatier.

But, no, the whole point of this was to make Remus the one who begged for it for once. Make him wait, give him a taste of what Sirius felt every single day while he wandered around looking the way he did. And then…then it would be so much sweeter.

It was barely four pm, after all.

“I need a shower,” Sirius mumbled, dipping back in for one more taste. Just one more, he promised himself as Remus’ hands slid along his back. Just a little bit, as a treat.

“No, you don’t,” Remus breathed. He pushed himself onto the counter and tilted Sirius’ face up for a new angle, tugging lightly on his hair.

“I’m covered in—mmm—grease.”

“Don’t care, god, fuck, Sirius.” He could feel Remus’ bulge pressing against the well-worn denim of his jeans and slid a hand down to press over it; Remus whined at the pressure and buried his face in the hollow of Sirius’ neck, biting and sucking at the small tattoo there.

“It’ll be so much better if you wait—”

A sound tore from Remus’ chest and he squeezed Sirius’ waist between his legs. “Bend me over the table, I don’t care, just come on—”

His mouth came off Sirius’ neck with a soft pop. “Shower.”

Sirius hurried upstairs before he could fall victim to those honey eyes that threatened to pull him under like some helpless bug. I am in control here, he thought as hard as he could under the freezing shower spray. He’s going to beg for it and then I can give it to him.

And the best part was, Remus liked it. He had seen the darkness of his eyes with each short-changed kiss, had heard the edge of lust beneath his frustrated grumbling. Sirius was well on his way to taking him to pieces without ever getting past his zipper.

----------------------------------------

Bubbles popped and slid between Sirius’ fingers and he winced at the slimy feeling, but at least it took his mind off the clock. Six forty-five pm—less than two hours before he could finally, finally give Remus what he wanted. The pleading need had turned into a dangerous game, and Sirius wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. Remus had refused to break eye contact while they talked at dinner; nobody had ever asked Sirius about his day with such aggression, and even fifteen minutes later his pants were still uncomfortably tight. The night was supposed to end with Remus a babbling mess, but he would not object to getting a taste of what he had been dishing out all day.

Sirius was halfway through washing a casserole dish when two familiar hands slid up the front of his shirt and narrow hips pressed him against the edge of the sink. “Wash your hands,” Remus said, brooking no room for argument.

“I’m not done with the dishes.”

“Sirius.” Hot breath fanned over the side of his neck and he suppressed a shiver. I. Am in. Control. “Wash your hands.”

Sirius washed his hands.

He felt a smile spread across Remus’ face and a kiss brushed against the top notch of his spine. “Thank you.”

“It’s not even close to eight, sweetheart.”

“You might change your mind about that.”

“Will I?” He reached for a towel to start drying dishes when he suddenly found himself facing the opposite direction; he barely had time to blink before Remus’ mouth was on his own, plush and warm and wonderful. Sirius started running his hands down Remus’ back, making a beeline for something he could grab a handful of, then stopped short.

“Told you so,” Remus murmured against his lips.

The pleasure center in the corner of Sirius’ brain erupted into cheering as he rolled the familiar fabric between his fingers, gathering a fistful of the jersey in his hand to drag Remus even closer. “That’s a dirty trick.”

“A dirty trick is kissing me within an inch of my life and then making me wait.” Remus licked along his jawline and soothed it with a light bite.

You know how I get when you wear my jersey, he thought with a grin, cracking one eye open to admire the red and gold lining. He opened his mouth to make a joke about the last name, but his words died in his throat. “What in the unholy fuck are you wearing?”

“The same jeans I’ve owned since I was eighteen. Why?” The little shit was smug as the cat that got the canary.

“Remus.”

“They make my ass look fantastic. Sue me.”

“I’m not talking about the jeans.” His hand was officially trembling.

Remus pulled back and met Sirius’ gaze with a challenge in his eye. “You like it when I wear jerseys.”

“You did this on purpose.”

“Wear clothes? Yeah, actually, though I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you.”

“Take it off, then, or I’ll bend you over this countertop.” Sirius’ blood hummed in his ears as Remus crossed his arms over his chest, taking a step back.

“No, you won’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

Something sparked over his face. Sirius almost regretted cornering him in the kitchen before his shower. “Because it’s not eight-fifteen pm and you hate letting me win.”

“Okay, now you’re just fucking with me.”

Remus barked a laugh, short and sharp. He was smiling at Sirius; clearly, he could tell his resolve was crumbling. “Oh, honey, I haven’t even started. I’ve got about nine hours to catch up on.”

“Where’d you get that?”

“I was saving it for a special occasion. Are you going to do something about it, or should I finish weeding the garden?” Sirius had him over his shoulder in half a second, and Remus laughed the entire way up the stairs before he was dropped on the mattress with enough force that the bedposts creaked. “That was aggressive. You could’ve asked, you know.”

Sirius took him by the hips and flipped him over, pointedly ignoring the playful wiggle that showed off the jeans that were practically glued to his legs. “Whatever I do, you’re going to take it, and you’re going to like it.”

He felt Remus’ breath catch under his palm as he pressed down between his shoulder blades. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

The sight of the loose neckline showing a large section of bare skin did things to Sirius.

The large TREMBLAY stretching across his back did…other things.

He bunched the extra fabric up and hoisted Remus onto his hands and knees, drawing an oof from his mouth before he closed a hand around one side of his ass and squeezed. “Did Logan give this to you?”

Remus’ mischievous smile was all the answer he needed.

The first smack mixed with Remus’ gasp of surprise and Sirius rubbed small circles over the denim his hand had just connected with. “Did Logan give this to you?” he asked again, slower and deeper. Remus nodded. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” Remus huffed, leaning into Sirius’ hand. “He thought it would be funny.”

“Do you think it’s funny?” Sirius murmured. Remus’ eyes fluttered shut as he released the jersey and moved his other hand down to knead the muscle of his upper thigh.

A grin curled the side of his mouth and one golden eye stared up at him in challenge. “Yes.”

The next smack made Remus’ mouth fall open and pulled a broken whine from him. “You think it’s funny that seeing you in someone’s else’s jersey makes me upset?”

Remus snickered at that, devious and long enough that Sirius paused for a second. “Baby, you’re not upset. I think it’s funny that seeing me in Logan’s jersey turns you on.”

He didn’t make any noise when the third spank came, just arched his back into it with a low hum; Sirius took a moment to admire the curve of his body, then smoothed his hands along the sides and front of Remus’ legs until he could hold the inside of his thighs and cup his dick through his pants. “Seeing you in jerseys always turns me on.”

“What if I wore Pots’?”

Sirius grumbled against the back of his neck and slowly undid the zipper; under it, he could feel Remus’ pounding pulse.

“Or Talker’s?”

“No.”

“It would turn you on,” he singsonged. “I could wear Finn’s jersey. It might still be a little big on me, but—”

He cut off with a breathless moan when Sirius gripped his narrow hips with one hand and slid the other into his underwear. “You were saying?” he prompted with an openmouthed kiss to the exposed bit of his shoulder. Remus’ summertime freckles were in full bloom, speckling him with a galaxy of his very own. He closed his hand around the shaft and ran the pad of his thumb under the head—it was dry still, just barely, but he felt a tremor in Remus’ thighs.

“Logan asked me to return this when I was done with it.” Remus pressed his cheek harder into his shoulder when Sirius dragged his jeans down to his thighs. “He might not want it back now.”

“That depends on whether or not you can keep it clean,” Sirius said as he grabbed the lube from their drawer and slicked his palm; he sped up a bit, and Remus’ eyebrows pitched upward.

“I’ll have—god, fuck—a better chance than you.”

Remus’ nose scrunched on the next smack to his ass and Sirius hesitated, putting both his hands on Remus’ ribcage. “Not good?”

“Meh. I liked it better earlier.” He shifted, kicking his jeans off the rest of the way. “Maybe a different time?”

“You got it, sweetheart.” He leaned down for a kiss—it was a little awkward until Remus sat up further, but they were both smiling into it before his lower lip was tugged between sharp teeth for a quick, sharp moment. “What was that?”

“You’re being sweet again.”

“You like it when I’m sweet.”

“I love it when you’re sweet,” Remus corrected. “However, you’ve already broken your goal, and I’m not letting you back out of this bed until you atone for your sins today.”

“My sins?” Sirius laughed.

Remus cleared his throat and held a hand up, counting down on his fingers. “Number one: copping out of morning kisses. Number two: public indecency at the farmer’s market. Number three: improper use of watches. I’m pretty sure they aren’t supposed to be kissed like that. Number four: Looking sexy with your shirt off in front of the neighbors. Number five: leaving me high and dry three times on purpose. Do I need to get my other hand, or do you get the point?”

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. I adore you. “You’re firing on all cylinders today.”

“It’s a miracle I have any braincells left after that torment. If you don’t make an honest effort to break this bed before eight pm, I’m keeping this jersey on for the rest of the day.”

“I love you so fucking much.” Sirius snapped the band of his boxers. “Though I don’t want to break you.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Sirius twisted the jersey up to kiss the shallow dips of Remus’ lower back in response. They were nowhere near as deep as his own—Remus had a penchant for leaving kisses and light thumbprint bruises there—but they caught the light just enough to melt Sirius’ heart. He sucked a dark hickey on the bend of his hip, then uncapped the lube and set to work.

For all of his teasing confidence, Remus had terrible control over his own limbs when he was past the point of no return. Sirius crooked the two fingers he had worked in, stroking over his prostate again and again until Remus’ legs shook so hard that they almost slid right out from under him.

Sirius’ arm was starting to get a little tired from holding him in place by the back of his jersey, so he pulled his fingers out and let Remus hold his own weight for a moment while he shimmied off his sweatpants.

Remus shivered in the cool air; every few seconds, a ripple of pleasure washed over him. “Come back,” he pleaded. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sirius shushed him softly and dragged his thumb over the lube-slick muscle before lining himself up. A series of cut-off keening noises slipped out of Remus’ mouth as he pushed in, slow but unrelenting. He bunched the jersey up toward his shoulders until the black-letter name—fuck, seeing that on Remus really did get him going in a strange way—was almost completely hidden in the folds and Remus’ back was on full display.

“Can I—can I—ah.” Remus tucked his elbows under his chest as he dropped to the pillows, twitching as the motion changed their angle. I’ll show you an honest effort, he thought.

“Color, sweetheart?”

“Green, fuck, can I see you?” he panted.

Sirius pulled out and turned him over, then set one leg over his shoulder before entering him again with deep rolls that made Remus clench his fist in the bedsheets. He kneaded the insides of Remus’ thighs until he started rambling, fragments of words that Sirius couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Remus’ lower back arched with a pillow-muffled shout and his newly-freed leg knocked against Sirius’ side. “There!”

“What?” The sudden change startled Sirius out of the white-hot haze that had gathered.

“No, don’t stop,” Remus begged, grabbing Sirius’ forearm. All his foxlike smirking had vanished, replaced by something almost feral. He was still the most beautiful thing Sirius had ever seen. “Sirius, please, it’s so good.”

“Like this?” he asked, picking up the pace once again with one arm under Remus’ thigh; his eyes rolled back for a moment and Sirius’ chest stuttered at the sudden tightness around him. A moan answered him, louder than the protests of their poor bedsprings.

Red lips, mussed curls, a disbelieving smile…everything on Remus’ face was blissful as he clutched Sirius close. “It’s so good,” he repeated, half-sobbing, half-whining. “It’s—It’s so—Sirius.”

All three syllables of his name tripped off his tongue individually, and Sirius lifted his hips up an inch, pulling him against his skin for as much contact as he could manage. “Was it worth it?” he asked, breathless and sticky and alight with energy. Remus’ skin was salty with sweat but sweeter than sugar; he smelled fucking incredible, though Sirius couldn’t focus on anything but the catch-hold-release of his muscles beneath his hands. “Was waiting worth it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sirius grinned against his collarbone, snapping his hips forward; Remus gasped and scraped his fingers along his back in shock. “Told you so. God, Re, you were so patient today. I didn’t think you’d make it past noon.”

“I tried so hard,” Remus said as he threw his head back. “Wanted it so bad.”

“You were pretty naughty there for a bit, weren’t you?” Sirius teased, slowing down and tilting his face over with a hand on his chin.

Remus’ glazed eyes filled with heartbreak. “I just wanted it, wanted you.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” he soothed, kissing his cheek. “You did really, really well. I shouldn’t have kept you waiting so long, huh?”

Remus said something, too quiet for Sirius to hear.

“Could you be good and say that again? A little louder?”

He nodded, slow and hazy. “I fucking loved it, Sirius.”

The last miniscule knot of tension in Sirius’ gut that wondered whether he had taken it too far unraveled. “There’s my good boy. Do you think you can be on top for a bit?”

Remus gave his shoulder a clumsy push with about as much force as a baby koala; he settled in Sirius’ lap when they rolled over and pressed their foreheads together, his chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath. “How do you do that?” he groaned.

“Do what, mon coeur?”

“You’re so sweet.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius murmured as he rocked his hips up and Remus let his head fall to the side. “You’re such a sweetheart. I love you so much.”

“I’m never this nice to y—” Remus’ sentence cut short as he tightened his grip on Sirius’ shoulders with a gasp; the jersey fell back down, covering his front.

“Raise your arms for me, mon amour.” Remus leaned forward slightly, and within moments the jersey was on the other side of the room while Sirius increased his pace and wrapped a palm around Remus’ shaft. “For the record, I think you’re amazing. And sexy, and funny, and far too mischievous for your own good.”

Remus’ jaw went slack, and he seemed torn between rising on shaky knees and pushing into Sirius’ grip; after a noise of distress, he sat down hard and found the ideal in-between spot to circle his hips.

“Look at you, my clever love,” Sirius panted, cupping his cheek with one hand as precome spilled over his fingers. “Just dripping for me, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered, blinking hard while he tried to focus on Sirius’ face.

“Don’t be sorry, Re. I’ve got you.”

He moaned, wobbly and frantic—his rhythm became erratic and Sirius steadied him with a hand on his hipbone. “Close, close, close—”

“Me, too.” Sirius swallowed hard and quickened his hand until Remus’ abs clenched and he dropped to his elbows, burying his face in the side of Sirius’ neck with a wounded noise. “Are you alright?”

“I’m so fucking close,” was the muffled answer.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Stars were popping at the corners of Sirius’ vision—he had been so focused on Remus’ reactions that he hadn’t realized how fast he had been barreling toward his own edge. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

Remus sucked in a harsh breath, then spilled over Sirius’ hand. His whole body went hot; Sirius pulled out and quickly jacked himself until he shuddered beneath Remus’ weight, holding him against every inch of skin he could reach.

Their bedroom was humid with the heady warmth of a day’s worth of pent-up tension, finally released. “Re?” Sirius asked, his voice scratchy with fading euphoria. There was a faint buzz against his shoulder when Remus hummed his acknowledgement, though he felt no other movement.

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ back and kept his face hidden as his legs straightened unsteadily. “Did I—did I take it too far? With the jersey? Was that weird?”

Sirius combed his fingers through his hair. “Not at all, mon loup. That was really, really hot. Can you turn on your side for a moment so we can cuddle?”

Remus made a quiet noise of assent and dragged himself off Sirius’ front; they were both sticky from sweat and come, but Sirius gathered him close with a few slow kisses to his flushed face. “I don’t like this part.”

“I know.” Sirius rubbed a wide oval from the small of his back up to the tense spot between his shoulders, tracing the small scar there. “It’ll be over soon, though. Did I push you too far?”

Remus shook his head with a tired smile. “That was awesome.”

“You haven’t spaced out in a while,” Sirius mused, talking to himself more than anything. He knew Remus liked the rumble of his chest and his post-sex voice, and let him slot their legs together in contentment. “It happened fast.”

“Yeah.”

He glanced down. “Can I go get some water and a washcloth for us? It won’t take long.”

Remus hesitated, then nodded. “You’ll come back?”

“Two minutes, tops,” Sirius assured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

One minute and twenty-four seconds later, he sat down next to Remus and guided him into a sitting position so he could drink some water while Sirius wiped his torso clean. Once the glass was drained and they were both significantly less sticky, he pulled him back down to the mattress and ran a finger down the slope of his nose. “You’re so pretty,” Remus said quietly with half-lidded eyes.

“So are you.”

“We should check on Hattie.”

“Right now, we should cuddle, and then we can take her for a walk once you’re feeling better.”

Remus smiled, soft and sated. “I’m already feeling better.”

“After a nap, then.” He kissed him gently. “No headaches.”

“I love your shoulders,” Remus said out of the blue as his eyes slipped shut. “Great to hold on to, and perfect for cuddles.”

“Thanks,” Sirius laughed. “I’m pretty fond of them myself.”

“I always forget how big you are until we do this. You completely cover me. It’s really fuckin’ hot, baby.”

The flattery made Sirius’ heart pound with affection and he nudged their noses together. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Today was so good.” Remus’ voice was sleepy and thick; Sirius rested his chin on top of his head and sighed. “So good. Thank you.”

“Love you, Re.”

A soft puff of air cooled his sternum, just below his tattoo. “I love you, too.”

[volleychumps]

I frfr forgot if I requested earlier but Getting matching tattoos with Kenma maybe reader getting a controller and Kenma getting a mic. Cuz both are famous ig like he’s a famous YouTuber and she’s a singer but there relationship is private but they are seen in public as friends so like ppl peep both tattoos and start speculating. And they accidentally get exposed when she comes on his stream not knowing he’s live

I love this concept?? So much?? And it’s my first Kenma single work???

The Secret (Kenma Kozume x Reader)

The one in which you’re a famous singer dating the pro-gamer on the down low and accidentally expose it to the public

Warning(s): like a TINGE of nsfw themes like super light 

----------------------------------

“All done?” 

“It’s rare to see that you are.” 

You smile at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the doorway of your in-home studio, humming contentedly as you slip your headphones off. As you turn off the recorder and fiddle with the buttons, Kenma approaches you tiredly, running a hand through his hair let loose out of it’s small bun. The red hoodie he was wearing was loose around his frame, the bags under his eyes signalling that the stream he had just finished up had been a long one as he unscrews the lid to a water bottle. 

“I heard you from the other room. Real pretty voice.” 

“Sure you weren’t scared your viewers would hear?” You tease, accepting the water as Kenma scoffs, rolling his eyes before you feel him approach you from the back. 

“Can we not just bask in this rare moment of freedom we both have? Please?” 

“You love gaming.” You protest, feeling Kenma push your hair to one side of your head to expose your neck.

“And you love singing, but it doesn’t make it any less tiring after hours on end.” 

You turn off your ring light as Kenma’s arms droop lazily around your waist, the gamer digging his face into your neck tiredly while breathing against your skin. Your fingers find one of his hands resting around your middle, stroking the ink on the skin of the side of his thumb with butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the simplistic microphone inked on his skin. 

“I still can’t believe we went through with it.” You whisper, feeling his lips curl a little against your skin. 

“How’s yours healing up?” Kenma murmurs into your neck, lifting his head slightly to catch your own hand and examine the tattoo of the controller on yours. You wince a little bit when he rubs his thumb over it distractedly, the skin still risen a little bit from how fresh it is. 

“Stinging. Yours?” 

“The pain is worth it.” 

“Shut up.” You laugh, turning to face him as Kenma clicks his tongue, murmuring something about how that wasn’t what he meant before you place a kiss on his temple sweetly. 

“Dinner? We can order in.” 

“Right. Like we can actually go out.” Kenma rolls his eyes as you nudge him slightly, feeling a twinge in your chest. The idea to keep it a secret had been your initial thought, but Kenma still agreed that the two of you needed to play your cards right for the sake of your careers. 

“You know it would be a hassle if our viewers knew. And since when do you ever want to go out?” 

“Have you not been on your phone? They’re already kind of on to us after someone digitally enhanced our recent photos to see our tattoos.” Kenma ignores your little jab at his indoor tendencies as he arches a brow. 

“What?” You blink, a surge of panic rushing through your chest as you go to grab your phone. “Already-?” 

“Hey.” Kenma tightens his hold on you, and you still as the setter places a quick kiss on the top of your head while attempting to ease your worries. “Let’s not freak out. Not now, at least. Just...hang with me?” 

You relax, Kenma’s rare words of affection making the panic replace with warmth as you turn in his hold, arms wrapping around his middle tightly as his clasp at the small of your back. The scent of him fills your nose as you mumble into his chest, a wave of tired washing over you as Kenma hides a small, relaxed smile into your hair. 

“Alright, love. Sushi okay?” 

“Order me ramen.”

“Right! My viewers sent me in some apple pie, I almost forgot- Kenma, wait for me!” 

“You should have said so sooner.” 

-----------------------------------------

The TV was still blaring on some random episode of a netflix series when you wake up, Kenma’s hoodie hanging around your groggy figure as you wake up warm yet alone, tiredly sitting up to switch off the TV. You blink once, and then twice again before smiling to yourself. 

Kenma had applied petroleum jelly to your tattoo for you, an open bottle of water already unscrewed and waiting on the clean living room table. 

The plates from dinner had already been taken and now laid on the drying rack along with the apple pie neatly put away in it’s box next to it. You had to hand it to him, Kenma made it hard for you to be annoyed about waking up alone. Wiping your eyes with the loose sleeve of your boyfriend’s hoodie, you check the time only for your eyes to widen a little bit. 

It was now nine in the morning, meaning that you had slept through the night without even realizing it. You sigh, going through your phone while still waking up before frowning at the influx of notifications and messages blowing up your device, the dms in particular being the most annoying. 

Are you dating Kenma Kozume?!

Back off, hoe. He belongs to his fans. 

Omg omg is my ship sailing??????

From: Asshole 

Are you two lovebirds trying to get found out?

You narrow your eyes, shooting a text back. 

-Kuroo, it’s too early for your bull. 

Listen lovely, it’s never too early. And matching tattoos? He wouldn’t get any with me:((

-Wonder why.

I’VE BEEN SHOT-

You snort before stretching tiredly, putting your phone down and wandering into your spacious bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, a giddy feeling in your stomach at the fact that Kenma was supposed to finish up his live in less than twenty minutes. However, you stall, gaping at the mirror in disbelief. 

A groan slips your lips as you raise a hand to your neck, eyeing the dark bruises littered up to your jaw as you hang your head and sigh. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten that Kenma had gotten a little carried away last night, your heated makeout session on the couch turning into a little something more, hence the hoodie you now adorned. 

You blush as you begin to remember, shaking your head of such thoughts before tying your hair up. Oh well, nothing some concealer and color corrector wouldn’t fix- maybe a scarf or two. You begin to make breakfast after clambering into the kitchen, a nutritious breakfast of soup and fish with rice being carefully plated onto a tray almost half an hour later. 

Hey, is Kenma done with his stream? 

You sip some soup, tasting it as you type away on your phone. 

-Should be, Kuroo- why? 

Oh, his fans were blowing up his comments asking about you and I’ve never seen the poor boy so flustered. Hug him, will you? 

-Bringing him breakfast now. 

I’m so glad he met you:’) 

-Buzz off:’)

You ignore the snarky response from Kuroo before lifting the tray, not even bothering to knock or say you were coming in as you push the door open to Kenma’s gaming room after ascending the stairs, figuring that the stream was supposed to end ten minutes ago- 

And oh boy did you wish you had knocked. 

You almost drop the tray, stilling at the sight of Kenma’s stream still ongoing, the cat-like boy pushing back from his monitor in shock as he whips his head to look at you from his gaming chair- 

You, his hoodie draped hanging off your figure with no pants underneath, simply exposing your bare legs and your hair tied back messily, a tray of breakfast in your hand that signalled you had spent the night together-

and not to mention the hickies ever so evident on your neck. 

“Y/N-” 

You squeak, stepping out of the door and slamming it shut behind you just as Kenma’s comments explode across the monitor. You were in for it now. 

The tray gets slowly lowered in front of the door before you make a mad dash to your shared bedroom, ignoring the now increased influx of notifications on your phone from Kenma’s hoodie pocket before throwing it across the room and face-planting onto your bed. 

How could you have been so careless?

Heat tinges your eyes as you muffle a scream into the sheets. 

What’s gonna happen now?

You flinch at the sound of someone else entering the room, refusing to look up from your spot as a familiar figure sits next to your teary one carefully. A feeling of guilt and wishing you could turn back time weighs on your chest as Kenma strokes a hand through your hair. 

“Don’t panic.” 

“Don’t panic?!” You sit up, Kenma eyeing you evenly as he watches frustrated tears brim your eyes. “I just walked into your live!” 

“I know, I was there.” 

“Kenma!” You whine, and surprise etches onto your features when Kenma stifles a laugh into his palm, looking off to the side before taking your hand in one of his carefully. The other one wipes moisture from your eyes as Kenma stops teasing you, looking at you seriously through golden irises. 

“We’d have to let them know eventually, you do know that- right? Or did you want to keep us a secret forever?”

“I know, but...” You sniff, Kenma using his finger to tilt your chin up slightly to tilt his head. 

“But?” 

“I don’t want to...ruin your career.” You finish quietly, and you gasp when you suddenly find yourself on your back, Kenma now looking at you with a hard edge to his eyes as he stares down at you from his position on top. 

“Well, isn’t this familiar-” your cracked voice tries to joke. 

“Shut up.” Kenma rolls his eyes before leaning down so his nose is almost touching yours. 

“Would I have gotten this ink permanently drawn onto my damn skin if I thought you’d ever ruin anything for me?” 

At your loss of words, Kenma sighs before taking one of your relaxed hands- the one with the controller on it- and bringing the side of your thumb to his lips so he can mumble against it. 

“And this? This tattoo of yours means that you’re mine. Didn’t we get these tattoos because we knew we’d reveal it anyway?” 

“Kenma, you’re speaking too much calm down-” 

“Y/N.” 

You stop with your antics as Kenma’s voice softens, eyeing you seriously. “Don’t you...want to be together?” 

“God, what kind of question is that?” You frown, lifting your hands to cup his face as you look up at his pretty features. “You know I do.” 

“Then I’m happy you walked into my stream.” Kenma turns his head into your touch to kiss your palm. “Because now all those damn pretty boys in your dms know you’re taken.”

“Kenma, they saw hickies.” 

“So?” 

“I can’t with you.” You roll your eyes before releasing a breathy laugh, glancing at the phone screen from the floor across the room as it turns off and on, lighting your screen up with notifciations. “I’m taking it the press is eating this up?” 

“Like a damn buffet.” Kenma sighs, lazily beginning to trace patters into your exposed thighs. “You know what I can eat up though?” 

“The breakfast you stepped over on your way to pursue me?” You blink innocently, laughing when Kenma shoots you a tired stare. 

“Sure. Let’s eat breakfast.” 

“Kenma-” You begin to whine, only for your boyfriend to kiss your lips in a chaste manner, lips lifting ever so slightly when you blink doe-eyed up at him in response. The phones become ignored as Kenma throws his behind him, the press now forgotten as two phones now blow up beside one another.

His thumb strokes yours as the ink on both of your skin traces over one another, the slight sting of the tattoos unnoticeable as Kenma’s hands slide further up his hoodie. 

“Use that pretty voice of yours and tell me what you want then, princess.” 

“I’m starting to think you did this on purpose.” You murmur against his lips as Kenma scoffs in the midst of trailing kisses down your neck. 

“There’s a reason my stream didn’t end when I told you it would, love.” 

-------------------------------

General Work taglist: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @dreebbles @kasandrafaye @yams046

[stories-to-tell-by-lantern-light]

Who Am I Really?

(Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Iron was all he could taste, as he hugged his arms close to his chest. The white snow that speckled the forest floor contrasted greatly with his newly acquired ash-grey skin. He could feel blood crusting under his fingernails, he could feel the sting of the cold snow underneath his bare feet as he walked. Whatever they did to him, he was no longer human that much was clear, his feet turned more animal-like and had ripped through his old shoes. If he was being honest with himself he knew that from the moment he awoke and could still see that he was no longer human.

Jack Nichols shivered as he caressed the hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. They were dripping with the black tar that was mercilessly poured in there by Jenny and her cult.

‘That absolute fucking bitch.’ He thought, and an animal-like snarl tore through his throat. He could feel the stretching and popping of his jaw as he ground his teeth together. Killing her and her stupid friends was therapeutic to him, remembering the taste of their blood as it filled his mouth when he tore out their throats made him feel euphoric. Pausing his steps only for a brief moment he let those memories of eating their flesh and organs consume him, it only served to make his mouth water.

What was wrong with him? Why did that memory, which happened only hours ago, make him so god damn hungry? What exactly had they done to him, as much as he tried not to dwell on that thought the hunger that ate away at him even after the slaughter was almost too much to handle. All Jack wanted when he woke up this morning was to go on a date with a cute girl, get a little drunk, and maybe get lucky (though realistically that was just wishful thinking). The true college experience one might say, even for a med student. Especially with a schedule as busy as his...that was as busy as his. He knew he should’ve just stuck to focusing on school and studying his brain out, god why did he have to listen to his friends as they urged him on the date.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

This. This was clearly the worst possible outcome.

What he really couldn’t believe, however, was that he allowed one of the cultists to get a hit on him, and a bad one at that. Turning his head to glance down at the tear in his thigh, it was a deep gash that desperately needed to get medical attention and fast. The only problem the former medical student faced was that whatever was pouring out of his leg wasn’t blood. It was a deep black ooze that stained the white snow that littered the forest floor. In fact, Jack wasn’t even sure if normal medical supplies would even heal his wound. Jack grit his teeth trudging onwards into the forest, a faint buzzing reverberated around in his skull like flies buzzing around a corpse that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He placed his hand against a tree the world spinning around him. Whatever the blood-like substance that was pouring out of his leg was, he was losing it fast. Jack heard the crunching of snow in front of him and a small gasp. It took most of his strength but he picked his head up and snarled. Jack bared his teeth and tried to make himself look as dangerous as possible, he felt like a wild animal that was cornered by the hunter. There was a girl in front of him, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair that was stuffed under a furry winter hat. She took a few steps back, her brown snow boots making giant footprints in her wake. He could hear the blood flowing through this girl’s veins, as her anxiety levels seemed to spike. The anxiety caused her heartbeat to quicken drastically, hearing the sound only served to increase Jack’s seemingly ceaseless hunger. Jack tried to take another step towards her, flexing the sharp nails on his hands but collapsed under his own weight, his fucking leg. He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“What are you?” The girl’s voice held a slight quiver to it and Jack could feel her sharp eyes burning holes into his body. He watched as she hesitantly took a step closer, her (f/c) parka standing out against the muted colors of the forest.

“I don’t know.” He responded with a raspy breath, she smelled divine but he had no strength to attack. Something in his bones told him that he was beyond human, something so much more, a god perhaps? What a silly thought that he couldn’t shake away. Through his quickly blurring vision, he swore he could make out a pair of fancy dress shoes a little bit behind the girl. He saw the girl drop to her knees and cover her ears, his vision went black and the sound of static accompanied the darkness.

---

Jack was expecting to be dead. He expected to be accompanied by beautiful white light, maybe an angel or something. However, it caught him very off guard when he suddenly awoke in a rather plush bed. He threw the plaid covers off himself unceremoniously and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The baby god never got far because he let out a howl of pain as a sharp sensation traveled up his thigh. Shit right, his entire upper thigh was practically ripped open. He forgot all about that, glancing down at his wound he noticed it was wrapped tightly in medical bandages and he assumed it was stitched up underneath the dressings. Whoever fixed the wound seemed to have done at least a semi-decent job, at least he wasn’t dead. Sniffing the air with his newly acquired sense of smell he could make out the distinct smell of humans and...was that lavender?

Jack felt his stomach growl and he doubled over clutching it. They smelled delicious. He could practically hear their organs singing out to him, rip open the human, steal us, devour us.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door opening, in the middle of the doorway stood the exact girl he’d seen in the forest. Immediately going on the defense he bared his teeth opening his jaw as wide as he could, he heard the popping sound of his jaw as it extended, he felt something swirl around in his mouth. He felt a chill run down his spine at the unwelcomed sensation.

Did he have more than one tongue?

Shaking the thought away Jack didn’t move to attack, he was never the type. He would always rather listen to rationality before getting his hands dirty, the only issue was he was starving and the girl would absolutely make a fine meal.

“Don’t try demon.” The girl scoffed eyeing Jack up and down, if he was still his old college self he would’ve gotten flustered at the gesture. A girl showing him attention? Unheard of back them. However, after Jenny, he was almost positive he’d never let that happen again. His sockets looked down at what the girl held in her hands, it was a plate, a plate that had kidneys on top of it. He was only mildly aware of the fact that he was drooling all over himself. “Oh gross.” She scrunched up her nose placing the organs on the bottom of the bed.

Without hesitation, Jack attacked the cold meat shoving it in his mouth with vigor. He knew blood was all over his face and hands but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jack knew the girl’s calculated eyes were watching his every move, even so, he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as the food slid down his throat. Once the meal was finished and Jack was satisfied he finally felt he had enough strength to start asking questions.

“Who are you?” He rasped, whipping his mouth with the back of what was left of his sleeve.

“Really? You’re asking ME that question.”

“I’m not a fan of your attitude.”

“I’m not a fan of you bleeding out on my property.”

Jack growled low and guttural.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The girl had the audacity to laugh in his face was she not aware of what he was capable of now?

“Nice try but I’m not scared of you. You’re not allowed to hurt me as long as you’re under my care.” She pointed to herself with her thumb, puffing out her chest a little however he could hear her pulse increase just the slightest bit.

Jack only scowled.

“What pray tell is exactly stopping me?” He raised an eyebrow watching carefully as the girl lifted up her sleeve to her sweater. Scared into her wrist was a symbol that Jack had never seen before in his life, but for some unknown reason, he felt dread wash over him. Carved into her wrist was an O with an X slashed through it. “What’s that supposed to prove exactly? That you’re into weird tattoos?”

The (h/c)-ette let out a loud sigh like this conversation was boring her. Oh he’s sorry it’s not his fault he was turned into a fucking organ-eating monster by a cult at his local college! If he still had his eyes they would be rolling so far back into his skull, yet he still waited for the girl to explain.

“My name is (y/n), I’m a medical proxy under The Operator. Currently one of the only ones he has left because we keep getting killed off by rogue killers.” The girl, (y/n), clicked her tongue in clear distaste at the mention of said killers. “Since I’m under The Operator it means if you kill me, he’ll kill you, that’s the deal Jacky boy.” That put him on high alert.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“You’re certainly full of questions for someone just waking up out of a coma. If you must know The Operator gave me a brief rundown of your file after we found you in the woods.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest “It’s your lucky day because you just got hired to work for him.” She gave him a round of applause, but it sounded more mocking than serious and he only grew more confused.

“This doesn't make any sense to me. I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. It’ll all be explained in due time. For now, all you have to focus on is getting better so you can begin your training. Lucky for you, I’m your registered nurse and caregiver, so enjoy your stay at castle de la (Y/n). Trust me when I say you should value your time here while you still have it.” A thousand more questions ran through Jack’s mind and his little question and answer session with his self-proclaimed nurse didn’t really help.

“So you’re a med student then?” She made a noise of affirmation picking at the strings of her sweater.

“Was a med student Jack, that pretty much came to a screeching halt after I was scouted by the boss man. That, however,” He watched as (Y/n) put a hand to her lips signaling him to stop asking questions, “Is a story for another day. The first order of business now that you’ve eaten is a shower. Cause no offense but you smell like dried blood, and coming from me that’s saying something cause I smell blood all the time.”

Jack still didn’t trust this stranger fully and it got under his skin that she seemed to know everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. Yet, a shower did seem nice at this moment, he glanced down at his hands and noticed his nails were caked with dry blood. He could only imagine what every other part of his body looked like, (y/n) clearly didn’t bother cleaning him up aside from dressing his wounds.

“A shower sounds good.” Jack nodded in confirmation and the girl gave a relieved smile.

“Oh thank God you agreed, it took me a week of convincing to get Jeff to go take his first shower.” Jack decided it was best not to ask who Jeff was deciding that that was a can of worms he shouldn’t open just yet. She reached out to touch him and he immediately recoiled back almost biting her handoff, the smile that appeared disappeared into a frown.

“Don’t touch me.” Memories of Jenny’s friends holding him down while he pleaded for his life flashed across his mind. The blade coming closer and closer to Jack’s crystal blue eyes before making contact and-

“Alright, cannibal boy snap out of it. Can’t have you succumbing to blood lust just yet. You don’t wanna injure yourself more.” (Y/n) snapped her fingers next to his ears and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she snapped him out of his stupor. “I was going to help you to the bathroom because you really shouldn’t put pressure on your leg. Is that okay?”

Jack felt himself nodding reluctantly. She was right, he really shouldn’t put stress on his leg or it could cause more harm than good. Especially since he didn’t know the extent of the injury yet, for all he knew he was lucky they didn’t hit the femoral artery. Her arms went around his waist as the god and the human girl hobbled to the bathroom together. On the short walk there Jack was trying to get a feel of the house, in case he needed to make a grand escape in the future.

“I’ll put some fresh clothes outside the door for you, call for me when you’re done so I can help you back to the bedroom.” (Y/n) explained as Jack hobbled into the bathroom, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her as he shut the door in her face. He heard a faint click of a tongue from the other side of the door and listened to the girls retreating footsteps.

Jack leaned against the sink putting most of his weight on his hands. The sink creaked at the newfound pressure and Jack wasn’t sure it was because it was an old house or because he had newfound strength. He glanced up at the mirror, it was weird somewhat seeing when you had absolutely no eyes. It was the first time since the incident he got a good look at himself, he looked about as good as he felt.

Terrible.

His auburn hair curled around his now pointed ears and was caked in mud and dirt. He was almost grateful that (y/n) didn’t touch him aside from the wound while he was unconscious, Jack couldn’t imagine what he might’ve done if he felt anyone go near his face. Speaking of his face, he opened his mouth and saw his teeth were shaved into razor-sharp fangs. His stomach turned as he remembered the exact reason why they were like that, organs. They were like that so he could eat organs. The thought wasn’t nearly as nauseating as it should’ve been.

His skin was unnatural and sickly grey color, as he lifted up his shirt the color seemed to spread all the way down his body. He glanced down at his hands and saw his nails were long and black, almost like those girls who wore acrylics, except he was sure their nails couldn’t rip into people's chests with a single swipe. Continuing down his body he lifted up one of his padded feet, he was correct in his assumption from earlier. They were much more animal-like, he wondered if they made him faster, what purpose could they possibly serve other than that?

Gently letting his footfall back down on the floor he shuffled to the shower and turned it on, the water sprayed out in a burst and he patiently waited for it to heat up. Eventually, he was able to step inside, not before knocking his head not only against the curtain rod but also on the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He snarled glaring down at the showerhead. Jack did a little double-take, okay he was also super tall, at least he got one blessing out of whatever the fuck was happening. Jack had to kneel on the ground in order to let the water roll down his body, with a deep breath he enjoyed the warm water pelting his skin. He fumbled around with the shampoo trying to figure out how to open it without popping a hole in the container. As the lid popped open he was hit with the calming scent of lavender.

~~~

“We’ll send someone to come back and check on him in about a month give or take, see how he’s adjusting and healing.” A figure spoke from the kitchen shaking a cigarette into an ashtray, as (y/n) stood across from him. The man ran a hand through his messy brown hair “Then we’ll reassess him, give him a test and see if he’s fit to come to the mansion.” Meanwhile, the girl heaved a sigh of her own and leaned against the cool tiles of her kitchen wall.

“So it’s gonna be my responsibility to explain everything that’s happening to him? Isn’t that supposed to be your job Tim?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow “You realize he’s, like, almost seven feet tall, has no eyes and eats organs right? I’m not even sure WHAT he is.” She muttered, “The rundown I got really only gave me his background and his clear trauma.”

Tim clicked his tongue like the girl in front of him was wasting his time, it made her ball up her fists subconsciously.

God, the main proxies really got on her fucking nerves sometimes.

“You won’t have to worry about that, The Operator will handle all of that throughout the coming weeks. No need to worry. You also don’t need to worry about harvesting organs for him, and hopefully, once he’s healed he’ll work on doing that himself. But for now, someone on a kill close by will be dropping off organs.” Tim’s nose scrunched up a little and the (h/c)-nette’s did the same, she normally prided herself on her strong stomach, but this was a lot even for her. “The only thing you have to do is monitor his eating, see how much he will need on a weekly basis, and obviously keep him alive.”

“Obviously.” They both seemed to have a mutual understanding about that at least, she fucks up and he dies they’re both in deep shit with The Operator. Tim reached to the side where his porcelain mask sat against the countertop.

“Don’t fuck it up.” He pointed to her before slipping out the door leaving the women alone with an organ-eating monster. (Y/n) mimicked ‘don’t fuck it up' in a nasal voice before kicking off the wall and heading back in the direction of her guest's room, she pulled out a pair of crutches from the closet and rested them by the bedside. She gently scratched at the faintly buzzing symbol on her wrist, this is going to be a long month.

[lumosinlove]

Sweater Weather Roster Description:

(So I probably definitely forgot some things. There’s a lot of complicated matching up that went into this. But, regardless, I wanted to post it, so we’ll fix and add as we go! <3)

James Potter: (Pots, Pothead, Potty)

Position: Left Wing, First Line

Number: 7

Years In The League: 7—drafted, no college.

Previous Teams: None

Description: 25. 6’1”. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, white. Can usually be seen wearing whatever Lily buys him. Known on the team for being a joker, but also someone you can go to for any reason. Hyper.

Nationality: American. Hometown: Boston, MA.

S/O: Girlfriend, Lily Evans.

Closest to on the team: Sirius Black and Sergei Ivanov, but basically everyone.

Rooms With: No one

Sits with on the bus/plane: Sirius Black

Lives With: Girlfriend Lily Evans

Injury: Multiple concussions

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Putting his contacts in, because he usually wears glasses, gets him really into the game mode. His favorite food is treacle tart, which he had when he took his girlfriend Lily to England—now she makes it for him on his birthday.

Favorite Moment On Team: When he told them that he and Lily were pregnant and they all celebrated.

Superstition: He has to call his girlfriend, Lily, before every game.

Warm Up Song: Eye of the Tiger

What the announcers say when he scores: “Aaaaannndd Potter is wheeling tonight!!”

~

Sirius Black: (Padfoot, Cap, Captain)

Position: Center, First Line

Number: 12

Years In The League: 6—First pick overall, no college.

Previous Teams: None

Description: 24. 6’3”. Black hair, gray eyes, white. Hair gets really fluffy in humidity and it drives him insane. Short hair, curls above his ears. Loves a good backwards hat. One of the strongest on the team.

Nationality: French-Canadian. Hometown: Montreal, Canada.

S/O: Remus Lupin—secret.

Closest to on the team: James Potter and Adam Fox and William LeBlanc

Rooms With: No One

Sits with on the bus/plane: James Potter

Lives With: No one

Injury: Badly broken ankle, one mild concussion

Puck Personality Fun Fact: He had a very hard time coming up with one, so James chose one for him. He pretends to hate the rookies, but will drop literally everything for anything they need. He’s also really bad at taking his pre-game nap.

(Pascal Dumais from the background: “He does not understand household chores!” “Shut up, Dumo!”)

Favorite Moment On Team: His first game after deciding to stand up to his mother about getting a trade. He could finally relax, and enjoy himself. When he scored the first goal, he let his teammates celebrate with him.

Superstition: There are so many. There are too many. Has to go out onto the ice last, has to have a butter and honey toasted sandwich before the game at 5:00 pm, has to do his stretches in a certain order, has to put on and sharpen his left skate first. Cannot even talk about the Cup without freaking out. Will wear the same gross hat until it literally reeks if they’re on a hot streak.

Warm Up Song: Doesn’t really have one.

What the announcers say when he scores: “Seriously!!! That is one serious goal!!” “That Black back-hander will kill a fella!”

~

Finn O’Hara: (Harzy, Fish)

Position: Right Wing

Number: 17

Years In The League: 3. Went to Harvard College.

Previous Teams: None

Description: 23. 6’0’’. Dark red hair, luscious and fluffy. White. Wavy. Light freckles. Brown eyes. Is a single eyebrow raiser. Habit of saluting. More on the slender side of muscle. Is a bit of a worry-wart. Super sarcastic.

Nationality: American. Hometown: New York, New York.

S/O: June Calder—sort of.

Closest to on the team: Logan Tremblay and Leo Knut and Olli Halla

Rooms With: Timmy Jones

Sits with on the bus/plane: Kasey Winter

Lives With: Leo Knut

Injury: Two bad concussions in college.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: He wanted it to be that he’s real fucking good in bed, but it’s that he likes eating grilled cheese with strawberry jam because his older brother, Alexander, used to make it for him all the time when they were kids.

Favorite Moment On Team: Probably that one team dinner where Blizzard got drunk and tried to swim in a fountain. Or when he found out that Logan also got drafted to the Lions the year after him.

Superstition: Has to have a grilled cheese and strawberry jam before every game. Has to tape his own sticks on the bench. Has a handshake with Logan they do before walking down the tunnel.

Warm Up Song: Hollaback Girl, Gwen Stefani

What the announcers say when he scores: “OOOOOOOO’HARA HOW DARA!! WHAT A GOAL!”

~

Timmy Jones: (Timmers)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 62

Years In The League: 10. Went to Boston University

Previous Teams: New York Islanders

Description: 31. 6’1”. Black hair, braided, reaches his shoulders and he likes to tie it up sometimes, hazel eyes. Black. One of the most popular jerseys because he’s such a crowd pleaser always riling them up and talking to fans through the glass. He’s also one of the biggest Instagram users and is always posting really funny locker room videos.

Nationality: Canadian. Vancouver, Canada.

S/O: Single

Closest to on the team: Olli Halla and William LeBlanc and Thomas Walker

Rooms With: Finn O’Hara

Lives With: Olli Halla

Sits with on the bus/plane: Olli Halla

Injury: Fractured foot a few years ago.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Kasey’s rival for best hair in the league. Famous for his crazy cellys

Favorite Moment On Team: Conference Finals! And when all the boys touch Moody’s leg for good luck.

Superstition: Has a lucky towel that no one is allowed to wash.

Warm Up Song: Where are Ü Now, Jack Ü, Skrillex, Justin Bieber

What the announcers say when he scores: Timmers strikes again!!

~

Olli Halla: (Olli)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 5

Years In The League: 10, Undrafted.

Previous Teams: Winnipeg Jets.

Description: 6’2”. 32. Very, very blonde hair, nearly white. Pale blue eyes. Cute little nose. Cannot grow a beard to save his life. Total baby-face. Is sort of shy and awkward. What a sweetheart.

Nationality: Finish. Hometown: Helsinki, Finland.

S/O: Single.

Closest to on the team: Timmy Jones and Finn O’Hara

Rooms With: Elias Cook

Lives With: Timmy Jones

Sits with on the bus/plane: Timmy Jones

Injury: Concussion, twice. A few bruised ribs.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Wins the pre-game team kick-around almost every time. Brings awareness to charities that contribute to doing research on the brain and brain injuries. 

Favorite Moment On Team: When the team welcomed him back from his pretty serious concussion (he missed nearly a year) by all wearing the number 5 out on the ice during warm ups.

Superstition: Wears his cross and says a small prayer after the national anthem. Also has to play in the kick-around.

Warm Up Song: Replay, Iyaz

What the announcers say when he scores: (G)oooooolllliiiii!

~

Brady Smith: (Smitty)

Position: Right Wing

Number: 92

Years In The League: 10. Drafted.

Previous Teams: Washington Capitals

Description: 28, 6’3”. Black hair, blue eyes. Black. The sweetest person you will ever meet in your life. Is adored by all of the hockey wives and girlfriends. Can speak Spanish and (ofc) German. Has a tattoo he has on his back shoulder blade of the Stanley Cup which he won with the Washington Capitals. The cup says his wife and two kid’s names on it with room for more—this man loves his babies.

Nationality: German. Hometown: Berlin, Germany, where his mother is from, but moved to the Boston, MA when he was 15 years old—where his father is from.

S/O: Married to his wife Allison, and they’re expecting their third child. Their first is a boy named Max, their second a boy named Noah.

Closest to on the team: Evgeni Kuznetsov and Jackson Nadeau.

Lives With: His family

Sits with on the bus/plane: Evan Kane

Rooms With: Evan Kane

Injury: Frequently separates his shoulder :(

Puck Personality Fun Fact: He’s part of the Lions’ power play. Is actually a really good tattoo artist and has inked Kris Lavolie and Evgeni Kuznetsov. He gave Kris the date of his daughter’s birth, and he gave Evgeni a tiger on his left bicep.

Favorite Moment On Team: He really loved when Sirius became Captain. He felt a shift in their team’s drive.

Superstition: Has to read the note his son wrote him a few years ago.

Warm Up Song: Anything Drake

What the announcers say when he scores: Braaaddyyy Smith! What a goal!

~

Pascal Dumais: (Dumo)

Position: Center

Number: 9

Years In The League: 24, drafted first overall.

Previous Teams: New York Rangers, Colorado Avalanche.

Description: 41. 6’1’’. Brown hair, cut pretty short but brushes up at the front or superman curl.  White. Hazel/green eyes, dark eyelashes and brows. Scruffy beard always. Is the dad of the team. Well tell anyone who asks the hilarious stories of when Sirius lived with him.

Nationality: French Canadian. Hometown: Montreal.

S/O: Celeste Dumais, wife. And four children. Adele (13), Louis (10), Marc (9), and Katie (7).

Closest to on the team: Logan Tremblay and Sergei Ivanov.

Lives With: His wife and four kids—and Logan of course.

Rooms With: No one

Sits with on the bus/plane: No one, he enjoys the peace and quiet (not that anyone gives him any)

Injury: Broken wrist. Bruised ribs. Mild concussion. Lost too many teeth to count.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: The BIGGEST prankster on the team. Loves fine wine.

Favorite Moment On Team: Whenever the crowd chants “Duuummmooooo,” or the first time Sirius smiled.

Superstition: Slaps Sergei’s ass before they walk down the tunnel. No one knows why.

Warm Up Song: Eight Days A Week by The Beatles

What the announcers say when he scores: "Pascal Dumais everybody! One of the oldest in the league—he’s still got it!”

~

Logan Tremblay: (Tremzy, [Finn: Lo])

Position: Right Wing

Number: 10

Years In The League: 2. Went to Harvard College.

Previous Teams: None.

Description: 22. 5’9’’. Dark brown hair, long enough to be wavy and always wearing a snapback. Green eyes. Light freckles. White. Always sinfully tan. Really broad and strong. Those arms and chest muscles damn. Really dark, long eyelashes. Clean shaven. Really loud, always mildly grumpy. Flirts with EVERYTHING. 

Nationality: French Canadian. Hometown: Rimouski, Quebec, Canada.

S/O: Single…..

Closest to on the team: Leo Knut, Finn O’Hara, and Pascal Dumais, Thomas Walker.

Lives With: Pascal Dumais

Rooms With: Leo Knut

Sits with on the bus/plane: Leo Knut

Injury: He broke a finger and a foot and frequently has black eyes from fights.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Has a fleur-de-lis necklace that he never takes off. Spends his summers in Nice, France where his mother is from. Bites his nails.

Favorite Moment On Team: Playing with Finn again.

Superstition: Says he isn’t superstitious but he is. Won’t touch the kick-around soccer ball before he decides to play. Has a handshake with Finn they do before walking down the tunnel.

Warm Up Song: Whatever It Takes, Imagine Dragons.

What the announcers say when he scores: “Scooorree!!! Oh, the tremble before Tremblay!”

~

Thomas Walker: (Talker, Walkie-Talkie)

Position: Defenseman —also an enforcer.

Number: 43

Years In The League: 8. University of Wisconsin.

Previous Teams: None.

Description: 30, 6’2”. Short hair, brown eyes, one of the most ripped guys on the team. Black. Pierced ears, usually small gold hoops. Takes them out for play. The Lions organization does a segment with him called Walkie-Talkie where he goes around the locker room and interviews his team mates with funny questions.

Nationality: American. Hometown: Chicago, IL.

S/O: Single

Closest to on the team: Timmy Jones and Adam Fox and Logan Tremblay.

Lives With: No one

Rooms With: Adam Fox.

Sits with on the bus/plane: Anyone who wants to CHAT.

Injury: Broken foot, some broken fingers.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: He got his nickname Talker because he never shuts up on the ice. Starts a lot of fights. 

Favorite Moment On Team: When Kasey jumped in the fountain.

Superstition: Needs to take a three minute nap between periods. He puts a towel over his head right in his stall and literally falls asleep for three minutes. (James: it’s fucking weird”)

Warm Up Song: Top hits, just needs the background noise.

What the announcers say when he scores: “Goal!!! He just walks right up there, don’t he?”

~

Sergei Ivanov: (Vans)

Position: Defenseman 

Number: 55

Years In The League: 23, Drafted, no college.

Previous Teams: Pittsburgh Penguins, Colorado Avalanche, Vegas Golden Knights.

Description: 40. 5’11”. Light brown-gray hair—was blonde, losing it at the front a little.  White. Really stern blue eyes that transform and crinkle when he smiles (but it’s hard to get a real smile out of him, and the boys feel really accomplished when they do).

Nationality: Russian. Hometown: Omsk.

S/O: Anya. They have three daughters: Aleandra (10), Evenlina (8), and Katya (7).

Closest to on the team: Kris Lavolie and Pascal Dumais and James Potter

Lives With: His wife and children.

Rooms With: No one.

Sits with on the bus/plane: Kris Lavolie.

Injury: Shoulder injury

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Loves classical music

Favorite Moment On Team: One of his daughters was born the same night he got his first hat-trick. Some of the team came to the hospital with him.

Superstition: Stops at a Church on his way to the rink everyday for a few quiet moments.

Warm Up Song: He doesn’t have one, he prefers to talk to everyone instead.

What the announcers say when he scores: SERGEI SCORES!

~

Jackson Nadeau: (Nado)

Position: Left Wing

Number: 58

Years In The League: 8. Went to College but didn’t finish.

Previous Teams: Chicago Blackhawks 

Description: 26, 6’0”. Dark brown hair, chin length and straight, blue eyes. White. Is very laid back and a big flirt. Has cheek bones that could kill and a very stark scar running down one of them from a skate in the face.

Nationality: French Canadian. Victoria, Canada.

S/O: Single

Closest to on the team: Evgeni Kuznetsov and Brady Smith

Lives With: Evgeni Kuznetsov

Rooms With: Evgeni Kuznetsov

Sits with on the bus/plane: Evgeni Kuznetsov

Injury: Skate to the face, other minor things.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Rival with Evgeni for most pick ups on the team. Has many tattoos—one full sleeve, working on the other.

Favorite Moment On Team: Probably when Evgeni got traded, he found his best friend.

Superstition: Has a handshake with Evgeni.

Warm Up Song: He won’t tell you up front but Hamilton.

What the announcers say when he scores: Rapidly repeating “Nadeau, Nadeau, Nadeau!!!”

~

Evgeni Kuznetsov: (Kuny)

Position: Center. Enforcer.

Number: 86

Years In The League: 10. Drafted.

Previous Teams: Anaheim Ducks, Calgary Flames, Buffalo Sabres.

Description: 27. 6’4”. Short cropped light brown hair and puppy-dog brown eyes. Has a slightly chipped front left tooth. White. Very heavy Russian accent, doesn’t speak perfect English and uses this fact to get out of interviews. Is very charming. Literally a giant.

Nationality: Russian. Magnitogorsk, Russia. 

S/O: Single and ready to mingle—or already does mingle. Excessively.

Closest to on the team: Brady Smith and Jackson Nadeau

Lives With: Jackson Nadeau 

Rooms With: Jackson Nadeau

Sits with on the bus/plane: Jackson Nadeau

Injury: Had to have knee surgery.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Will tell you he has the most pick-ups on the team, but it might be Nado. He’s always making jokes in Russian that basically only Sergei and Henrik can understand and Sergei just rolls his eyes while Henrik laughs.

Favorite Moment On Team: He loves team dinners, just hanging out with the guys.

Superstition: Has a handshake with Jackson.

Warm Up Song: BLASTS Russian rap.

What the announcers say when he scores: THE RUSSIAN BEAR STRIKES AGAIN!

~

Evan Kane: (Kaner)

Position: Right Wing

Number: 51

Years In The League: Two. Went to College at Boston University.

Previous Teams: Calgary Flames.

Description: 23. 5’11”. Tan skin with freckles and brown eyes, black, short hair. Hispanic. Super strong and holds lots of team workout records. The brightest smile. Eyebrows on point. Loves to read, was an English major at school.

Nationality: American. Hometown: Boston, MA.

S/O: His girlfriend, Caroline Hall.

Closest to on the team: Brady Smith and Elias Cook, and Leo Knut

Lives With: His girlfriend.

Rooms With: Brady Smith

Sits with on the bus/plane: Brady Smith

Injury: Nothing major up to date.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Wicked fast. One of the fastest in the League.

Favorite Moment On Team: Probably meeting Pascal Dumais. He’s looked up to his playing style for a long time.

Superstition: Tapes his own sticks, sharpens his own skates.

Warm Up Song: Eminem

What the announcers say when he scores: “Yes he Kane!!!”

~

Adam Fox: (Foxy, Sexy)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 32.

Years In The League: 19. Drafted.

Previous Teams: New York Islanders.

Description: 36. 6’2”. White. Light brown hair that pushes up at the front and is shaved close at the sides. Blue eyes that will kill you. 

Nationality: American. Hometown: Boston, MA. 

S/O: Girlfriend, Lucìa Perez.

Closest to on the team: Thomas Walker and Sirius Black

Lives With: His girlfriend.

Rooms With: Thomas Walker

Sits with on the bus/plane: Elias Cook

Injury: Nothing too serious.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Is constantly made fun of for being the prettiest. Ever.

Favorite Moment On Team: Bringing his girlfriend to her first game.

Superstition: Stretches in a certain order.

Warm Up Song: They boys will tell you it’s SexyBack but it’s actually just heavy metal.

What the announcers say when he scores: “A foxy goal!!”

~

Henrik Sunqvist: (Sunny, Sunshine)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 33

Years In The League: 10. Played in the Swedish league for a while.

Previous Teams: None in the NHL.

Description: 39. 5’11”. Blond hair, cut short, pale blue eyes, white. Warmest smile you’ve ever seen. 

Nationality: Swedish. Hometown: Uppsala.

S/O: Linnea Sunqvist, his wife and their daughter and son, Maja (10) and Hugo (11).

Closest to on the team: Evander Bell

Lives With: His wife and family.

Rooms With: No one

Sits with on the bus/plane: Likes to sit alone with a nice audiobook sometimes.

Injury: Nothing major, a few minor concussions

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Almost never fights, but when he does…ouch. Can speak French and Russian.

Favorite Moment On Team: When he gets to morning practice and has coffee with the boys.

Superstition: Has to do a few somersaults in the locker room—we don’t know why.

Warm Up Song: Russian rap—no one knows why/how he knows Russian so well.

What the announcers say when he scores: “The sun is shining on Sunqvist!"

~

Elias Cook: (Cookie, Crock-pot) 

Position: Left Wing

Number: 29

Years In The League: 7. Drafted.

Previous Teams: Toronto Maple Leafs

Description: 25. 5’11”. Hazel eyes, Black hair, baby curls so cute we love the curls. 

Nationality: Canadian. Toronto.

S/O: Fiancee, Jamie Barrow.

Closest to on the team: Kasey Winter

Lives With: Jamie.

Rooms With: Olli Halla

Sits with on the bus/plane: Adam Fox

Injury:

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Loves spicy food. Once made Sirius cry by daring him to eat some really spicy dish.

Favorite Moment On Team: Listening to ABBA in the locker room.

Superstition: Does a few laps around the hallways. The press love to try to catch him for interviews while he’s doing this.

Warm Up Song: iSpy, KYLE and Lil Yachty

What the announcers say when he scores: “The stove is HOT for Cook tonight!”

~

William LeBlanc: (Bluey)

Position: Center

Number: 44

Years In The League: 3. Drafted.

Previous Teams: SKA Saint Petersburg.

Description: 24 6′1″. Brown hair, wavy, green eyes. White. Goes to Russia during his summers.

Nationality: French Canadian. Sherbrooke. 

S/O: Single

Closest to on the team: Tyler Wright, Sirius Black.

Lives With: No one

Rooms With: Kris Lavolie

Sits with on the bus/plane: Tyler Wright

Injury: Concussion.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Never learned Russian well, despite playing in the KHL. 

Favorite Moment On Team: When Kasey jumped in the fountain.

Superstition: Has to touch all the boys’ names above their stalls

Warm Up Song: Russian rap.

What the announcers say when he scores: LeGOALLLLL

~

Evander Bell: (Ringer)

Position: Right Wing

Number: 21

Years In The League: 15. Drafted.

Previous Teams: Bruins, Red Wings.

Description: 33. 6’3”. Sandy blond hair and brown eyes. White. Pretty shy, but really kind. Laughs really loudly which then makes himself blush.

Nationality: American. Hometown: L.A.

S/O: His fiancee, Emily.

Closest to on the team: Henrik Sunqvist

Lives With: Emily and his son, Xavier.

Rooms With: None

Sits with on the bus/plane: Likes to sit alone, besides joining the card game.

Injury: Broken wrist.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Can play the guitar and the piano. Is one of the team’s biggest You Can Play ambassadors (Pascal and Sergei are the other two most active). Always goes to the Gryffindor pride parade.

Favorite Moment On Team: The entire locker room singing We Are Never Getting Back Together. Beginning to see hearts on the glass at the team’s You Can Play Night.

Superstition: Wears the same hat and socks. 

Warm Up Song: Taylor Swift. 

What the announcers say when he scores: “A dead Ringer from Evander Bell!”

~

Kris Lavolie: (Volley)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 11

Years In The League: 3. Went to University of Michigan.

Previous Teams: None.

Description: 24, 6’1”. Dark hair that’s straight and falls to about his chin, brown eyes. White. Broadly built. Kind and a really good listener.

Nationality: French Canadian. Hometown: Quebec City.

S/O: Single

Closest to on the team: Sergei Ivanov

Lives With: His daughter, Aveline.

Rooms With: William LeBlanc

Sits with on the bus/plane: Sergei Ivanov

Injury: Broken rib.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Kris is a single dad. One of his best friends, Lee, she takes care of his baby girl who is four now while he’s on the road. Sometimes she gets to go stay with Sergei’s family, too. Sergei helps him so much, and he’s thankful for him <3. His daughter’s name is Aveline and he will do ANYTHING for her.

Favorite Moment On Team: Taking his daughter to the Lions’ family skate for the first time.

Superstition: Talk to/call his daughter before every game.

Warm Up Song: XO, Beyoncé

What the announcers say when he scores: “La gooaaaaallll by Lavolie!!”

~

Tyler Wright: (Wrangler)

Position: Defenseman

Number: 8

Years In The League: 

Previous Teams:

Description: 27. 6’2”. Hair that is shoulder length, really dark brown. Blue eyes. Square jaw. Has a bit of a temper on the ice, but is a sweetheart otherwise. Ironically doesn’t like fighting.

Nationality: American. Hometown: Minnesota, Minneapolis.

S/O: His girlfriend, Elsa, who lives in Sweden and is a professional football/soccer player.

Closest to on the team: William LeBlanc

Lives With: No one

Rooms With: No one

Sits with on the bus/plane: William LeBlanc

Injury: Nothing serious.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Has four dachshunds named Puck, Deke, Gordie, and Stanley.

Favorite Moment On Team: Like many, when Kasey jumped into that fountain. “It was just so fuckin’ out of character, you know?”

Superstition: Has to participate in the kick around, and has to kick the ball last with his right foot.

Warm Up Song: Royals, Lorde.

What the announcers say when he scores: “Wright in the net!”

~

Kasey Winter: (Kase, Blizzard)

Position: Goalie

Number: 30

Years In The League: 8 years. Drafted, no college.

Previous Teams: New York Rangers.

Description: 26. 6’2’’. Light brown hair down to his shoulders. Known for being the most beautiful hair in the league. Softest brown eyes that psych shooters out. Grows a really gorgeous beard whenever the fuck he wants. 

Nationality: Canadian. Home town: Ontario, Canada.

S/O: Girlfriend, Natalie Darcy

Closest to on the team: Elias Cook and Kris Lavolie

Lives With: His girlfriend, Natalie.

Rooms With: No one.

Sits with on the bus/plane: Finn O’Hara

Injury: Torn hamstring.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Will have his girlfriend braid his hair for practice sometimes. (“You can say what you want, but keeps it out of my face. Good old boxer braids. It’s where it’s at.”)

Favorite Moment On Team: When the team got to the Conference Finals seven years ago.

Superstition: Has to do stretches in a certain order.

Warm Up Song: Wasabi by Little Mix (Thanks, Natalie)

What the announcers say when he makes a safe: “The Blizzard is blinding!” “It’s a squall!”

~

Leo Knut: (Nut, Knutty, Peanut, Peanut-butter)

Position: Goalie

Number: 1

Years In The League: His rookie season, so almost one. No college.

Previous Teams: None.

Description: 18. 6’3’’. Dark blond Hair, pretty wavy and falls over his forehead. Blue eyes. Button nose. Blond eyelashes. Cannot grow a beard to save his life.

Nationality: American. Hometown: New Orleans, Louisiana.

S/O: None….;)

Closest to on the team: Logan Tremblay and Finn O’Hara and Evan Kane

Lives With: Finn O’Hara

Rooms With: Logan Tremblay

Sits with on the bus/plane: Logan Tremblay

Injury: Nothing major.

Puck Personality Fun Fact: Has a small gray-streaked patch of hair by the front of his head from hitting his head really hard when he was little.

Favorite Moment On Team: Well, the first moment he felt most at home was when the rest of the boys started imitating his accent. Logan is the worst at it, but he does it the most.

Superstition: Not very superstitious…yet.

Warm Up Song: Violet, Bad Suns and Love On Top by Beyoncé

What the announcers say when he saves a puck: “Another nuts save for Knut!” “We’re nuts about Knut!” “Right in the nuts!”

[atinybitofau]

S E O N G H W A ⇾ mafia au

DATING THE BAD BOY BUT HE’S GOT A WICKED COMPLEX

a/n: ver 2 and you can tell lol.

• his boys didn’t like you.

• but he LOVED you.

• you loved him too.

• but your mom didn’t like him either—

• actually everybody kind of didn’t like him at all.

• at this rate, the cops don’t even know what to do with him.

• even the bounty on his head has criminals fighting for his life, dead or alive.

• you two were the kind of people who would never be caught together.

• shouldn’t be together even if the chances allow.

• cause you’re the quiet type, you know?

• the type of girl who always said yes.

• —which he loved by the way but that’s not the point.

• the point is,

• Seonghwa was the type of guy who didn’t exactly like saying yes to anything really.

• no he liked doing what people prefer as what-not-to-do.

• “Hey baby.”

• you look up from your text book when you hear his dreamy voice interrupt you from studying like the good girl you are,

• shaking your head cause you’ve told him many times, “You shouldn’t be sneaking in here this late at night.”

• he chuckles huskily at you before bending down to swoop in for that midnight kiss he came for.

• “Just came by to give my girl some lovin.”

• “Seonghwa, you’re a hitman. Not Ronald McDonald.” you deadpan.

• “Fear me.” he teases leaning against your desk. “Your mom’s car is gone. She out for the weekend?”

• you sigh loving leaning your head against his abdomen as he peers at your book. “She specifically said not to let you in and to tell you the opposite of that but yes. Unfortunately she is out of town.”

• he keens at the way you tease.

• unfathomed by how he fell in love with you the moment you two met years ago.

• at a library where he was renting the movie, how to lose a guy in ten days.

• beyond you why he didn’t just rent the chick flick at a red box or something.

• “Sometimes you make my gun look useless. My own little weapon. Patent pending.” he kisses you on the lips while he tightens his belt. “Duty calls, baby. I’ll be back for you tomorrow morning since your parents basically gave me the thumbs up.”

• you giggle at that holding back at his turned waist. “Where are you going now?”

• “To fight the bad guys. Where else would I go if I’m not already here with you?”

• Seonghwa’s not at all what people think he is.

• at least to you.

• you think he’s the greatest guy.

• if not, the nicest.

• he does the things the little guy chooses not to because it’s morally wrong?

• of course you weren’t all for his lifestyle.

• it being killing innocent people and then some.

• but he does it out of honor?

• to protect the people he loves.

• like a twisted superhero.

• “I love you.” you tell him before he leaves making him kiss you again.

• “You know my answer to that. You don’t need me to remind you.”

• you smile under his hot breath. “But it would be nice if you did anyway.”

• “I love you too baby. To the moon and back.”

• you watch as he goes.

• never seeming to miss him when he lingers around you so often.

• the morning comes and he’s missing.

• you don’t worry too much but when the next day comes and he doesn’t attempt anything,

• you certainly start to miss him.

• the lingering long gone.

• “Mom, have you heard from Seonghwa?”

• she looks at you and rolls her eyes. “Why on earth would I hear from him? And I’ve told you multiple times you aren’t allowed to see him.”

• you chuckle and shake your head. not forgetting to kiss her on the cheek before you go.

• “I know you don’t like him. And I know you think he’s not the better options I’m given but he’s an option that loves me. One that I love back, ma. So I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear you say that, okay?”

• “Fine but I’m not saying I like the idea anyway.”

• your mom hates him.

• but she can’t hate the fact that he does absolutely everything in his power to prove his love for you.

• his friends think otherwise.

• doing everything in their power to keep him from YOU.

• “Where is he?” you ask yourself as you look around the crowded area. “He’s supposed to be here by now...”

• you frown knowing he wasn’t going to show up.

• that there was something wrong and you don’t doubt it’s because of his friends.

• and Seonghwa has always been the one to reach out for you.

• which is probably why even if your family hates him, they respect him.

• you think it’s why his friends don’t respect you.

• but who are you to put yourself in the circle of death?

• a circle that you weren’t meant to be in the first place?

• only meeting the love of your life by chance.

• you feel like you need to prove to the fourth party that you deserve him just as much as he deserves you.

• but that doesn’t work out as easily as it did for him,

• —squeezing his way into your plain life.

• you still tried though.

• now your hands are bound and your mouth is covered in a gag.

• “I think your little boyfriend forgot how dangerous it is sneaking you around.” the man wanting vengeance against your boyfriend shuts your crying up with whips to your back. “Even if I die torturing you, he’ll die thinking why couldn’t it have been him.”

• you glare through wet eyes,

• thinking you’d really still do anything for Seonghwa.

• you were a kind soul.

• lived life to the fullest and with a smile on your face.

• —it’s a complex Seonghwa loved about you.

• what he was missing in his own life.

• but while he was out there making sacrifices for you, you never did for him.

• you think it’s time to turn the tables.

• that you definitely weren’t a fan of the idea of losing a guy in ten days..

• that this was your chance to prove to his friends that you deserve him more than just an inferiority complex.

• and the chances right?

• the moment the man walks back m in, he’s already held at gun point by your boyfriend who’s merciless.

• ready to shoot anyone who decides to touch his baby, you.

• but you think he’s done enough trying for you.

• taking the knife you’ve been harboring behind your back and sticking it down the man’s throat with pure savagery.

• honestly,

• you looked like you came right out of a horror film.

• your chick flick romance with Seonghwa ending in a blink of an eye.

• and his friends were lucky enough to be granted the sight.

• “Y-y/n? Why—“ Seonghwa’s almost in tears petrified by the way trauma coats your eyes and how the blood of your first victim drips down your hands. “W-why’d you kill him, baby?”

• you know it was probably wrong.

• probably the more strenuous effort to take in winning his love.

• but you’re tired of being just his woman.

• wanting to be his partner more than anything in the world.

• even if the chances were slim you were willing to take it.

• you look to his friends shaking vigorously.

• hands trembling when you ask in venoumous drip, “Was that enough? Was that enough to get you all to like me? To accept me. To stop keeping my god damn boyfriend away from me?”

• Seonghwa knows you’re everything.

• everything but the inferior.

• loved that you always needed to be accurate.

• his weapon patent pending.

• “I may not be one of you.” you tell them softly having them backed up into a corner as you threaten, not being the quiet girl they think you were. “But I sure as hell can be. And if killing a man who put me in chains because of your friend that I love? If doing that will prove it to you, then by all means throw me another. I’ll kill him too.”

• they never liked you.

• but they can’t lie and say they never admired you.

• admired you for falling in love with a man who stained his hands with blood and his life with tattooed pasts.

• admired you for loving him even if that has to drag you.

• you cry when it’s just you and Seonghwa.

• now he holds you in his arms in your bedroom,

• in the comfort of your bed,

• being able to be with you this time, all parties approved.

• he traces the scars on your skin just like the way you trace the ink on his.

• how he’s willing to do just about anything you’d do for him.

• “I’m sorry.” he whispers as you keep yourself trapped against him. “I’m sorry for loving you.”

• you don’t tell him to take it back.

• let him kiss the burning wounds that he mended.

• the pain fading like the trauma in your mind.

• when it’s just him and you,

• you forget about the them and they.

• “I’m sorry for loving you too.”

• his hair brushes against your forehead as he leans down to kiss you.

• his tears falling onto your lips like it’s a promise he’s making to you. “I told them they couldn’t keep me from you no matter what they do. That if the world didn’t want us together, we wouldn’t have met. The person I am... y/n, that’s just going to follow us. Baby, I don’t know if I’m okay with that.”

• “I am.”

• your arms lace around his shaky body as he kisses you tenderly.

• you kissing back.

• “I’m okay with everything you do, who you are and what that makes me.” you whisper as he bends against your hand pressing on his rising chest. “The gun you always hold is mine. Your heart that’s right here? That’s mine too. Patented by yours truly.”

• he chuckles.

• shakes his head to himself because he’s so damn in love with you—

• so damn lucky to have you.

• thinks Ronald McDonald may as well be the richest man alive but he’s still got a treasure far more valuable than the iconic BIG MAC.

• “I know for the life I have, I can’t marry you.”

• you peer up at up him when he scrambles through his pockets for something.

• the way his gun falls onto your bed like it meant nothing to him, almost mockingly sardonic.

• “But I can pretend for a little that I don’t have the life I have. Just so I can do this.”

• he turns the tables.

• whn the lights flicker in your room and how your mom stands at the door way with a camcorder,

• his friends smiling at you with a cake and flowering confetti—

• the way Seonghwa gets down on one knee his gun comically sitting between the both of you.

• just so he can ask,

• “Y/n, will you be my wife?”

• Park Seonghwa has this complex that you never had.

• doing the things people don’t want him to do.

• it’s funny how he got those people to want it.

• the way you always did.

• it’s his complex.

• so it’s not wrong that you answered,

• “Well yeah, obviously.”

• patent approved.

@atinybitofau

[dailytomlinson]

Back in December, a month before Louis Tomlinson’s debut album Walls was released, I had the honor to attend one of his album release parties in Atlanta, Georgia.

I expected my year to go differently: to travel across the country to attend several Louis shows. Little did I know sitting in the local bar in Atlanta it would be the last time I would see the musician who changed my life for the foreseeable future.

Even though nine months have passed, I can still say it was one of the greatest days of my life.

The three-hour drive to Georgia felt like five, but once the Atlanta skyline appeared over the Interstate, my mind filled with anticipation and excitement knowing I would hug Louis in near hours and hear Walls for the first time. Being in a bar with Louis just hanging out with only a few selected fans seemed unfathomable. We checked into our downtown hotel, which was paid for by Sony, and got ready with only a few hours to spare.

Once the Uber dropped us off at the bar, reality hit me. I would be in close proximity inside with the artist who shaped and saved my life — and I just wanted to remember it forever. I wanted to stay frozen in this moment. As we waited outside, the radio host, Adam Bomb, handed us papers to write our questions on. He reminded us to keep the questions respectful and music-centered if we wanted them to be considered. My question was, “I know songwriting is the major part of the album process for you. Can you talk a little bit about your songwriting process?” It wasn’t asked, but one of Bomb’s questions was about his writing process.

Fifteen long minutes waiting outside in the cold, and we were inside. The radio station confiscated our phones at the door to protect Louis’s unreleased music. A couple of tables surrounded a high chair, where Louis would sit for the interview.

My friends and I sat at a table straight across from the chair with a clear view of Louis. Adam Bomb sat in the chair next to Louis’s, and he flipped through the cue cards for preparation of the exclusive event.

“Please welcome to the room, Louis Tomlinson!”

Louis, dressed in a black sweater, jeans, and the usual sneaker, walked out from a curtain in the corner of the room. Smiley and waving, he admired the small room of fans who cheered and shouted for his entrance.

He sat in his chair, inches from where my friends and I sat, smiling occasionally at our table. Adam asked Louis a couple questions about the album (I can’t even recall what because I sat there in silent awe admiring him). It was the happiest I ever felt. It was an out-of-body experience where I wanted to pinch myself to wake up. I just couldn’t believe this was real.

As Louis exited the room, Adam talked to the crowd about how special and exclusive it is for us to hear songs from an unreleased album. He reminded us to be respectful and to enjoy Louis’s hard work.

The first track played. “Too Young.”

The audio was extremely quiet, and Louis shouted from behind the curtain, “Oi! Turn it up!” We all laughed, and Bomb turned up the volume letting the poetic words be heard. The room was silent with everyone intensely listening to the love song. I sat with my jaw open, and tears immediately filled my eyes. I couldn’t believe Louis wrote something so poetic and purposeful. Immediately, I knew this album would be better than anyone expected.

Louis’s photographer, along with the radio station’s, captured fans’ reactions and even recorded and photographed my friends and me from across the room. I felt so humiliated that my tears and freak-out with my friends were being documented, but one of the workers later told us our reactions made the room fun and she could tell how much he meant to us.

Later, a photo of me and my friends was plastered on Louis’s and the radio’s social media.

We listened to “Perfect Now” and “Walls” and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Louis peaking around the curtain wanting to see our reactions to his years of hard work. He signaled to his security guard to give us tissues and he came to our table and handed us napkins for our tears.

After we listened to the songs, Louis sat back down for the interview. He said it was a beautiful thing to see a reaction like that from fans after working so hard as a solo artist. It was evident he loved being in a room with fans, we mean so much to him and we make him extremely comfortable.

He talked about the tour and how he wanted to keep it authentic and intimate for the fans. Bomb asked about his Live Life Love show in Nashville days prior, which I attended, and when we clapped he laughed and said, “Yeah, yeah, you were there.” I couldn’t believe he remembered us from the meet-and-greet just days ago.

Bomb followed up with his joke and asked if he sees fans freak out on the front row, and then he pointed at us and said, “You’ve been front row, I know you have,” smiling and laughing at our shocked faces.

https://twitter.com/Q997Atlanta/status/1202402335168901123

Bomb asked a couple of fan questions. Louis talked about his writing process, tour, and Walls. The interview was kept professional and exciting, which I appreciated.

After the interview, Bomb invited everyone to the front for a group selfie. Things became extremely intense when Louis was almost mobbed by fans who shoved chairs down to run up to him. Rylee, a fan Louis donated money to make her home accessible, was blocked by fans from coming to the front to be seen. At this exact moment, I knew I spent ten years of my life supporting the right person. He firmly asked the girls to move so Rylee could come to the front, and when they didn’t, he walked to the back and moved a chair out of her way so she was able to be seen in the photo. I wanted to sob when I saw him go out of his way for someone who has spent most of her life looked over. He truly has a heart of gold.

After the selfie, we lined up for the meet and greet with him. His smile was so contagious and he greeted every fan with a warm hug. He signed Donny jerseys and drew tattoos for fans, and as the line inched closer, my eyes filled with tears and my heart raced. Before I knew it, my friend was hugging Louis and he looked me up and down, arms wide open for a hug greeted with a huge smile. We talked briefly, I hugged him again, and I walked off. It’s hard to put into words, but his positive energy is contagious and hugging him feels like home. He’s such a special soul.

After I met him, they made us leave the bar, and my friends and I waited to wave him bye as he left. I wanted to have a tattoo drawn by him, but my anxious mind forgot. Maybe one day, though. My friends and I hung outside for a while and the radio team interviewed us for their social media.

https://twitter.com/Q997Atlanta/status/1202437699317174273

To be in the room for such a special moment to share with an artist you’ve looked up to is truly the greatest feeling ever. I never want to forget how happy and excited I was during those thirty minutes. Leaving the party, I wanted to be able to listen to the songs over and over — but I couldn’t for another month. Being one of only a handful of people who heard Walls before its release was so special yet so tough at the same time. It was hard to keep everything to myself and not leak spoilers, but I knew I had to do it for Louis. I wrote down lyrics and everything I could remember from the album to cherish until Walls was released.

My closest friends were able to join me on this once in a lifetime journey, and here’s what they had to say about the experience.

What was your favorite moment from the party?

Caitlin: My favorite moment was telling him that I would see him four times on tour. His response was, “Thank you, love,” and he looked so happy when I told him that.

Bri: My favorite moment from the listening party is whenever we took the group picture with Louis! He realized this little girl named Rylee wasn’t anywhere near and went out of his way to go help her get into the picture. He ended up putting her in the front with him and that just warmed my heart to the max.

Makayley: My favorite moment from the party was definitely hugging him and watching him interact with Rylee, but I also loved listening to the songs with everyone and the excitement of it all.

How did you react when you found out you won?

Caitlin: It was super last minute when I found out I was able to go. I was super excited because I have always wanted to attend a listening party.

Bri: When I found out I won passes to the listening party, my mind went everywhere! I was crying, shaking, screaming, and panicking. I was the last winner, the last hour. It was CRAZY!

Makayley: I had a panic attack in math class and um thirty minutes later (oops)

What was your favorite song from the three we heard?

Caitlin: My favorite song was “Perfect Now.” Something about it put me in the feels.

Bri: My favorite song out of the three we listened to has to be “Perfect Now.” The lyrics spoke to my soul. Especially the lyric that said, “Keep your head up, love.” Just due to the fact, I’ve gone through some difficult times in life and just hearing that sent me into orbit. I was crying a lot at first but then went into a place of peace and happiness.

Makayley: “Walls” definitely.

What was your initial reaction from the songs?

Caitlin: I was really impressed with the lyrics. Being able to listen to those songs for the first time was super special. I thought the sound was definitely in his lane.

Bri: I could not just have one reaction to the songs we heard. I was happy, sad, surprised, a random emotion you can’t even describe.

Makayley: I was just really proud knowing how hard he had worked on it and how far he’s come.

Did Louis answer your question? What was his response

Caitlin: Louis did answer my question about which song off the album are you most excited to play on tour to which he responded, “Probably ‘Kill My Mind.’”

Bri: No, Louis did NOT answer my question but I was happy with the ones that did get answered.

Makayley: No.

Do you wish they did anything differently about the party?

Caitlin: I wish they would have allowed us more time to talk and spend with him. the meet and greet was rushed I think. but overall it was a fun experience.

Bri: Absolutely not. It was fine as it was. So close together, we all understood each other, etc.. It was amazing!

Makayley: No, I liked the way it was very chilled out and in the setting, it was (my only problem was with the accessibility of it).

What was meeting Louis like for you?

Caitlin: Super special. it was so nice to get to say hi to him and just tell him how much I love him and couldn’t wait to see his tour.

Bri: Meeting Louis was anxiety-filled. It was my first time ever meeting one of the people I look up to. Overall, it was an amazing experience. Louis was the sweetest and most genuine person ever!

Makayley: Meeting Louis was definitely a monumental moment as for all he had helped Rylee and myself with. But, hugging him definitely got me through a rough patch, and the feeling that the hug gave me still helps me to this day.

[savannah-lim]

Sink Your Teeth In || Savannah & Carrington

Timing: Current Location: Teeth Parties: @savannah-lim and @carringtonblackwood Content: Just vampire shit Summary: Savannah goes exploring in dangerous places again.  

Savannah’s ex-wife had been a huge Dracula fan. She’d even taken her to Whitby on their honeymoon so they could sit on the very bench Bram Stoker had once occupied. This town reminded her of Whitby, in some ways. It was a seaside town, although in New England rather than England itself, and it had a fascinating obsession with the Macabre. Recently, Savannah had started to figure out that there was a pretty good reason for that.

She wandered through the area she'd come to learn was (affectionately?) nicknamed Freak Alley, looking for somewhere to have a drink. She was sure someone online had told her to stay out of these kinds of places, but curiosity was her best friend and biggest enemy, so she walked right in, heading into what she assumed was a goth or punk themed bar called 'Teeth'. 

People looked at her a little strangely as she walked in. Maybe she wasn’t dressed appropriately. “Sorry, I forgot my black leather jacket and velvet top hat,” she said to one particularly gawpy patron as she took a seat at the bar, then she turned to the bartender. “Hi, I’ll have a Gin and Tonic.”

Carrington was having… A Night. Whether it was getting better or worse was still up for debate. Five of his six current clients had called that afternoon to cancel their appraisal walk-throughs, Walter - the fucking ungrateful, orchid-ruining excuse for an oversized Venus fly-trap - had nearly taken his hand off when Carrington had fed the vampire watermelon his biweekly meal. And to top it all off, someone had scratched his Aston. Which would cost an arm and both legs to have fixed. So Carrington was in dire need of a distraction. 

Which ‘Teeth’ was more than happy to provide. Carrington was currently enjoying a very good buzz - thanks to a bottle or two of top-shelf fae blood - when something… unusual yet strangely familiar caught his attention. As well as the attention of every other vampire in the room. There was a human sitting at the bar. A human that wasn’t an employee, and therefore not under the owner’s protection. So it didn’t take long for the vultures to start circling. 

The woman’s scent finally registered with his intoxicated brain about the time he finished his drink. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Tomorrow's headline was already flashing through his mind: FBI Agent Orders Gin and Tonic in Local Bar, Gets Exsanguination Instead. Of all the fucking nights…

“Hello again,” he said, slipping up beside her and ordering another bottle of blood. “How’ve you been? And why, might I ask, are you all alone in a place like this?” 

Savannah had felt several dozen eyes on her. Eyes she had chosen to ignore. The bartender looked at her like she was crazy, but shuffled off to fulfil her order. She looked at the menu on the wall behind him. None of these seemed like normal drinks. Maybe they all just had fancy names. A shiver passed down her spine as someone brushed past her in the crowd, a sixth sense she couldn’t quite explain. But when someone took the seat next to her, Savannah was relieved to see it was someone who wasn’t a stranger.

She paid and tipped the bartender as he returned with her drink. “Carrington, hello.” Nobody was looking at him strangely in spite of him wearing regular clothes as well. Perhaps she was missing something. “I’m well, thanks.” She took a sip of her drink. “A place like this? Just because I’m not covered head to toe in tattoos with painted black fingernails, doesn’t mean I can’t find these sorts of places charming,” she teased, giving him a small grin. “But you can fix the ‘alone’ part if you want.” She cocked her head at him. “Did you just order blood? Was I supposed to use a code word or something, you know, to blend in?” 

“That’s good to hear.” He eyed her curiously. The first time they’d met, Carrington had been absolutely certain she knew shit-all about… well… anything to do with the supernatural. It was why he’d compelled her to forget what she’d seen that night. Though things could and did change quite quickly in this town. Perhaps Savannah was one of them. Either way, Carrington’s curiosity was piqued. 

He returned her grin with one of his own, one side of his mouth slowly lifting as he realized she was serious. And if one were observant enough, they might notice that Carrington sported a set of rather sharp canines behind his lopsided smile. He likely couldn’t have put them away if he’d tried, considering his current state. But oh well. In for a penny and all that. 

“Oh, I think you’ll find the charm goes much, much deeper than just the aesthetic…” Her casual invitation earned her another slow grin. “I think I can handle that.” The asked after drink came a moment later, and Carrington’s fingers paused against the bottle. He glanced at her, trying to decide how to answer in a way that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. Finally, he settled for the truth. She was here wasn’t she? “Yes.” The word was said with a slow, almost lazy candor as he lifted the bottle to his lips. “And no. But... if you wish to blend in…” There were still several sets of eyes on them as his arm slipped idly across the back of her chair. “I could show you how.

Savannah hadn’t even finished her first drink yet, but it was clear Carrington had already had a few. She decided to drink quickly in order to catch up. She had a feeling this was going to be an interesting night. “Fae Blood,” she read from the label. “Well, that’s not very nice.” Savannah waved the bartender down, much to his irritation, and ordered a second gin and tonic and a whiskey on the rocks. “Seems I have some catching up to do.” She finished her first drink almost in one long gulp, eyeing Carrington with curiosity. 

“You’re being strange,” she said, but her tone was one of interest and intrigue. She swore she could see the strange shape of his teeth beneath the dim lights. “Blending in, how?” she asked, curious to know what he’d be showing her. “I’d like to find out.” 

Carrington was well into his cups. Which explained why he didn’t bat an eye as she read the label on his bottle, other than to give her another playful smirk. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Besides…” He leaned towards her and pointed to a tiny bit of writing on the label. “‘No Fae were harmed in the making of this willingly-donated, generously compensated, and promise-free product.’” As if that should explain everything. And maybe it did. 

“By all means.” He watched her down her drink, raising an impressed eyebrow. The sweet smell of whiskey drifted towards him, and Carrington ordered one for himself, with a shot of A-negative. “Am I?” he asked. Her continued acquiescence was slightly surprising, but Carrington didn’t mind. Not one bit. “By doing what every other human that comes into a vampire bar comes there to do…” He gave her another curious, crooked smile, eyes slightly hooded as the implications of what he was suggesting - along with his sharply pointed teeth -  made themselves unmistakably clear. “And I’d be more than happy to oblige.” His fingers drifted up her arm to ghost over the line of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

Savannah had to be dreaming. This whole thing was almost as beyond belief as everything else she’d seen in White Crest so far. The idea of a vampire bar wasn’t strange. What was strange was that he should be so brazen about it, that he should be so open, even clearly a few drinks deep. “Why would I possibly want to try that?” she asked. She wasn’t a vampire, so she could only imagine it would taste awful. “I have my own.” She downed her whiskey and lifted the second gin and tonic. This would catch up with her soon. Maybe once it did, this would feel less bizarre. 

“How forward,” she snickered, almost a little embarrassed that this situation was - dare she say it - kind of hot. A therapist would have had a field day with that. “I’m not sure I’m drunk enough yet,” she said, her breath hitching in her throat a little turning her words into something of a sigh. “But you can show me around while I get there.” She leaned into him, whispering. “And no. I don’t trust anyone. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do something foolish.”

Carrington had no reason to hide what he was. Not here. Though his track record of making good choices when partaking of fae blood - he usually avoided it for a reason - wasn’t very good. Outside these walls, however, his identity was no one’s business but his own. And a very few trusted individuals. He opened his mouth to tell Savannah that the comment had been… well, somewhat rhetorical, but his attention quickly slipped to watching the line of her throat as she downed her drinks. 

“You asked,” he grinned, letting his fingers play over the slope of her shoulder. The way her breath hitched made Carrington’s fangs ache ever so slightly, but he was more than happy to grant the request to show her around. Before he could start what would hopefully be a very short tour on the way to something far more entertaining, she was suddenly very close. Again, she managed to surprise him with her answer, and again, Carrington didn’t question it. Instead, he laughed, the sound a low, genuinely pleased hum as he turned his head to whisper, “Good girl…” into her ear. He didn’t elaborate on which of her comments he was alluding to (it was both, actually), but pulled her and onto the first leg of the grand tour. 

A good bit later, Carrington’s head lolled towards Savannah. “Are we there yet?” he asked, grinning drunkenly, fangs on full display at this point. “Or well… are you there yet? I was there… oh-” He held up two fingers for her to see. “- three drinks ago.” 

Savannah swallowed. This was bizarre in a way that somehow made sense. It would have been beyond belief if not for the fact that it was so sensible and obvious. Savannah had no scepticism left in her. Carrington wasn’t trying to hide anything. He wasn’t a stranger trying to lure her backstage. She quivered, almost embarrassed as he whispered the words in her ear. 

She decided to see where this went, no commitment one way or the other. She explored with him, danced with him, had a few more drinks with him, and gave a low laugh when he finally asked the question. “I think I’m getting there.” She swung on his arm a little as they danced, twisting herself into his arms. “Tell me something,” she said, figuring now was her best chance to get some honesty out of him. “What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t found me at the bar?” she asked. In spite of being pleasantly drunk now, her curiosity hadn’t shut off. Savannah turned back to him, hands on his shoulders. 

“Can you be gentle? Can your friends?” she used the word loosely. There were several humans in the bar. Savannah could see that now. She’d passed the human blood bags and the fang bangers that were either paid to be here or came for their own thrill and enjoyment. They seemed to be having fun, but Savannah didn’t doubt there was a seedier underbelly to all this. Accidents happened. 

Her shiver didn’t escape his notice, but Carrington simply tucked that particular tidbit away for later. After that the evening was a blur. A pleasant one, if a bit strange. But only strange because he couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have to hide a part of himself from a human acquaintance. Whether out of fear of losing a friend, or fear for his own safety. Neither of those things had even crossed his mind this evening. Savannah was… taking it all in stride. Without any evidence of a nervous breakdown in the near future. 

So, as was the theme of the evening, Carrington didn’t question it. He simply endeavoured to take things as they came for once. Her laughter vibrated against his chest as she spun around, and he let his other hand slide around her waist, holding her against him as they danced. “Excellent…” he smiled against her ear before letting his lips drop lightly to her shoulder. He stayed there as they danced, enjoying her warmth and her scent along with his own pleasantly drunken state. “Anything…” he murmured to her query. Though when it came, the question wasn’t quite what he expected. Nonetheless, the evening had thus far thrived on honesty, and Carrington was loath to change that. 

“Perhaps nothing,” he told her quietly. “Or perhaps someone would’ve fed on you. Without your consent. Or worse.” 

Her next question didn’t have a black and white answer. She’d seen the varying degrees of human/vampire interaction around the bar. Though some things weren’t meant for public display. How could she not be curious? “In general? Yes,” he said, and meant it. “We’re all capable of being gentle. We’re not much different than humans in that sense. Some good, some bad. Most somewhere in between. ” 

Carrington dipped his head towards her shoulder again. “As for myself… I’m always gentle…” His lips - along with a barely there, feather-light hint of fangs - brushed her skin as he smiled lazily. “Unless you ask me not to be...” 

Savannah's next shudder wasn't so pleasant. Fed on. Or worse. Those certainly weren't the most desirable of outcomes. "Well, thanks for coming to my rescue," Savannah teased, her words dripping with irony. She remained close to Carrington, paying specific attention to his lack of heartbeat. His body was a little warm, perhaps from the bottles of blood he'd been drinking like light beers. If she hadn't already known already, she wouldn't have guessed he was a vampire. She'd have to get smarter about that. 

She exhaled, continuing to casually dance with him as he explained his species to her, at least in the vaguest of ways. She'd try and find out more later, she was sure, once she wasn't so very distracted by the feeling of his skin on hers and how good he smelled. "Good to know," she murmured against his jawline as he promised to be gentle. She swallowed the lump in her throat as his teeth scraped against the shell of her ear.

Fuck. She was an idiot.

"Then I guess we'd better go back to your place." 

[starkrogerrs]

The Captain's Bitch

a/n: i've made my own genre it's called soft crack porn. enjoy. idea by @stark-charm

Long before they'd started dating, Tony had fantasised of having Steve's dick in his ass.

It just was; Steve was a very attractive man and even though he infuriated him in the beginning, Tony really couldn't control the several wet dreams he'd had about the soldier.

Now, as he sat kneeling, butt-naked in Steve's dimly lit bedroom, as the latter littered his neck with hickies that he would later proudly flaunt, all his fantasies came rushing back to him.

Steve was sort of old-fashioned, in the sense that he didn't jump Tony's bones on the very first date. Which, if Tony was being honest, had been disappointing. Especially since they had so much pent up sexual tension they could have put to good use. Tony had agreed to take things slow though, for Steve's sake.

Three dates however, were apparently enough for Steve and that's why here they were, with Steve's long and lean fingers stretching Tony open nicely.

If his fantasies were any proof, Tony had always imagined that Steve was good but this, even though they'd barely started, exceeded all expectations.

He moaned long and slow as Steve trust a third finger in, hitting that sweet sweet spot and Tony's eyes rolled up in his head.

"I — need — you," Tony managed in between grunts as Steve continued to nibble at his ear. Steve was all around him, and Tony felt warm like he hadn't in years.

He almost whined at the loss of Steve's fingers, as the latter pulled back to get lube. Tony waited patiently, preparing himself for Steve's slick fingers to fill him again— but they never came.

Tony frowned, turning his head slightly to look at Steve, who was staring down at his back. His pupils were blown so wide that the brunet almost came then and there.

"Steve?" he called. But the blond didn't reply, his fingers now caressing the dip of Tony's tailbone gently, where his gaze was also fixated.

"Earth to Rogers. You here, babe?" he asked again, turning around completely now so that their knees touched; hating that all the work that Steve had done on his body seemed to be disappearing.

Steve all but snapped back to reality.

"Huh?" he mumbled intelligently and Tony smiled.

"Thought I'd lost you there, sweetheart."

Steve said nothing, eyes still dark as he turned Tony around, his fingernails digging into the brunette's skin. Steve pulled him onto his lap, his hardness pressing down against his back. Tony's breath hitched as arousal coursed through him again.

"When did you get this?" Steve asked then, his voice hoarse and throaty.

What? Tony thought, as Steve licked the skin of his neck again. Tony's hands immediately went up to fist the soldier's hair.

"Get what?" he croaked as Steve bit down on the spot behind his ear while grinding against his butt. God, could he just fuck him already?

Steve licked the shell of his ear, before leaning away again.

"The tattoo," he half-whispered, breath fanning Tony's neck.

Oh. That.

Tony was flung back in time, to the very eventful night of 4th of July, 1990. It was a couple of months after he'd turned twenty and the night America turned 214.

'Captain America's bitch', read the tattoo; the words a contrasting black against the red and blue of the signature shield.

"That was so long ago," Tony replied, grinding down on Steve's thigh, earning a grunt from the soldier. If he didn't have Steve inside him soon, he was going to be mad.

The blond however, had other plans.

"Talk me through it," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Are you serious right now?"

They were going to have sex for the first time, Tony's fantasy was coming true and here Steve was, asking him to narrate some stupid tale.

Steve leaned over again, sucking at the spot that made Tony's neck flush red and toes curl. Tony's eyes fluttered shut and lips parted instantly as Steve turned his chin to kiss him.

"Please, baby?"

How could he say no to that?

How could anybody say no to that?

"I got it on a dare. Blame Rhodey," he confessed, half smiling. The memory was etched into his mind with incredible detail, which was surprising because they'd been so high then.

Steve hummed in response, urging Tony to continue. He nuzzled his nose into Tony's neck, as his warm fingers skimmed down his thighs.

Wow, he thought, Steve's hands might just become his favorite part of him.

"My father, who you obviously knew," he began, tensing a little at the thought of his father. But Steve's hands found their way to his dick and palmed him gently and, well, Tony forgot whatever he was supposed to say.

"Fuck, Steve," he groaned, eyes fluttering shut.

"Go on," Steve said, stroking him slowly and What The Fuck, how was he supposed to think with Steve's hand on his dick?

"My f-father, h-he never shut up about you," he continued, "He thought you were one of his greatest creations and I— fuck — I wanted to hate you, Steve."

Steve froze against him at that and Tony bit his tongue. In his defense he didn't really know what he was saying because his brain wasn't cooperating at the moment. He was half sure Steve would just ask him to shut up but instead, he found himself being turned around and pushed onto his back. Nails digging into Tony's skin, Steve bent over him once again.

"— But I couldn't. You were a hero even in my time."

Steve smirked against his skin, and Tony felt himself relax. He grinned up at the soldier.

"Don't get too cocky now, darling. It wasn't like I was obsessed with you or anything."

Steve leaned back a little then, never letting go of Tony's waist, his grip firm. There was a wicked look on his face, eyes dark with lust. He swung Tony's legs over his broad shoulders, as the latter groaned at the sensation.

"But you were gorgeous so I had a small poster of you in my room, which may have inspired a certain set of inappropriate dreams— "

Tony almost screamed mid-sentence because Steve decided to spear in, right at the moment. Tony knew Steve was huge, but he was practically straining against him now. Tony was sure he was going to black out as bright lights swam before his eyes.

"Don't... Stop... Talking," Steve grunted out, each word punctuated with faint breaths.

"I d-dreamt about you a couple of times," he managed through gritted teeth, as Steve pulled out slowly and thrust in again.

Fuck, his legs were already shaking, but it felt oh so fucking good. He gripped at the sheets beside him tightly, hoping that he wouldn't fall.

"And I did at times bring you up in conversations randomly and— fuck— "

Another thrust. Tony bucked his hips against Steve in response, needing more of the friction as he burned around him.

"Rhodey was so done. So he dared me, that night—"

Another thrust. Steve was being painfully slow, taking his time to tease Tony.

"And I thought, why the hell not? And —" he moaned low as Steve pushed in again slowly. He could feel the orgasm building up deep inside him; the sensation creeping up from his core like wildfire.

He bucked his hips again, as Steve picked up pace, skin hitting skin with an erotic smack that echoed through the room. Tony could feel Steve slide in and out and recalled every one of those times he'd thought of this precise moment. All of those times were nothing compared to what he was feeling right now.

"And because I-I was feeling— shit— particularly rebellious, I got that- written on my back," he finished, panting as Steve reached over to stroke his length. He felt numbingly sensitive and weird lights danced before his shut eyes but God forbid if Steve stopped.

Steve was pumping at an incredible speed now, pulling Tony higher and higher, their grunts loud and filthy. This felt better than anything Tony had ever experienced and, for the very first time, felt right. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling aware of every inch of where their skin was connected in some way.

Tony chanted Steve's name over and over, each louder than the last, as they both reached their climax together. Their movement became erratic as Steve came all inside him and Tony, on Steve's chest.

They toppled onto each other, completely exhausted, warm and sweaty but happier than they had possibly ever been. Steve kissed Tony's neck again, his plump lips soft and sleep-inducing, as the brunet sighed contentedly into the pillow.

Later, when Steve had cleaned them both up and they lay on the bed; Tony's head resting on Steve's chest, as the soldier traced circles down Tony's arm.

Tony felt his eyes droop, exhaustion taking over completely. Never, in all his life, had he actually felt this warm after sex, this full, this happy.

"What was that about?" he intrigued sleepily.

"Hmm?"

"The tattoo thing."

Steve didn't reply for a moment and he wondered if the soldier had drifted off.

"What about it?" the soldier replied a long moment later, opening one eye.

"Did you not like it?" Tony asked, propping his head up on his arm. He was struggling to keep his eyes open but like they say, curiosity killed the cat.

Steve looked up at him and reached out to brush Tony's hair away from his forehead.

"Other than the fact that you're not my bitch, I loved it."

Tony smiled giddily. "Dork. What am I then?"

"My... lover?"

Tony scoffed, burying his face into Steve's chest to hide his blush.

"'Captain America's Lover' ? That'd suck as a tattoo."

Steve laughed, the deep rumble inside his chest making Tony feel warm all over again.

"Just... seeing my symbol on you...," he said, lifting Tony's chin with a finger, "It's like you've been mine all this time... and I didn't even know." His eyes darkened at that again, and Tony felt the familiar tug in his abdomen again.

Tony bit down on his lip as he gazed at Steve. Blue eyes sheltered by long eyelashes that curved towards the sharp nose and those soft, plump lips were just inviting as ever.

God, he was beautiful.

"Well, you know now. That I'm yours. Forever," he said, climbing on top of Steve, who was already moaning and captured his lips in his own.

"The tattoo's permanent."

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #325

tired of seeing me in the survey tag yet? lmao me too

Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I have absolutely never understood why there would be any correlation between someone's height and whether or not you would date the person because of it. What, do you think the person has any control over that? So basically, yes, I would, without a second thought. Have you ever fallen in love on the Internet? "Fallen in love," no. I had to meet Sara first to see how we meshed in the same environment. Have you ever had a crush on your best friend’s sweetie? Yes, hence the Joel mess. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend? No. Good luck getting me to date someone like that. Can guys be sluts? Who the fuck cares so long as the person is safe and open with their partner. Ever had a crush on your best girlfriend? Twice now, haha. Would you ever kiss someone who’s taken? No, I'm not that kind of person. Do you mind being the third wheel? I don't care, really, so long as my friend doesn't totally ignore me. I very much enjoy seeing people in love. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Yes. Have you ever been in a love triangle? No, and I absolutely would not if I was aware. You pick me or you leave me alone. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? I've never had to, but I'd probably feel a hint of awkwardness. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new partner? No, and the only case where that would be a problem would be with Jason. I know in my heart I would feel at least some hatred towards her. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? Yep, when I was first actually getting truly sexual and felt like I was betraying my "abstinence." Would you stay friends with your sweetie’s friends if you broke up? I'm still friends with Jacob, mine and Jason's former roommate and his then-close friend. So yeah. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? I hope more than words can explicate that I have a stable job that I love, my driver's license, and my own place with a long-term partner, since I think living alone would be very detrimental to me. I also hope I have much better control over my social anxiety. Oh, and can I PLEASE be fit again? What was the last thing you bought for less than a dollar? No idea. Who was the last person in your bed? My niece Aria was sitting on it with me. I miss Misty's kids. Do you have a nice phone? Not particularly, but it does the job. Is Marilyn Manson creepy or cool? I find him creepy in a cool way, haha. Well, at least aesthetically. With his recent sexual assault (or abuse? idr) allegations however, I don't know how I feel about him because I don't know the facts. I really should actually read up about it. Regardless, I love his music; he's one of my favorite musical artists. Do you like talking to strangers? Depends on my mood and the person. Do you have OCD? Yes. Are you clumsy or graceful? I'm clumsy as all getout. Have you ever ran into a door because you didn’t know it was closed? Haha, no. Have you ever woke up and didn’t know where you were? After my cyst removal surgery, I was confused for a moment or so. Do you own a Wii? Yep. Do you like to talk about yourself? Depends on with whom, the subject, and my mood. Has anyone ever called you conceited? No; I'm very much on the other end of the spectrum. Tattoos or piercings? I love both, but tats win. Have you ever had ants ruin your picnic? I’ve never had a picnic. At least that I remember. What’s the last gross movie/show/video you saw? Recently, I watched The Dark Den dissect his recently-deceased tarantula to figure out why she died. It was serious impaction, and it was disgusting. Would you rather live in a huuuge house or a little cozy one? A lil cozy one! Not TOO small, though. I'd feel claustrophobic. Have you ever blow dried something other then your hair? Maybe? What is your favorite piece of equipment at gyms? Treadmills. Do you have a tutor for anything? No. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did for a little while. Did you tell your last girlfriend/boyfriend that you love them? Yes. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Apparently I somehow forgot to wipe crumbs off the kitchen counter. Have you ever had a bathing suit fall off of you while swimming? Not a suit, no, but when I wore bikinis and I jumped into the pool, it's happened before where my top would go up. I'd obviously fix it super quick. Do your pets have favorites? I'm absolutely Roman's favorite, but he loves Mom, too. I'm the only one who interacts with Venus. What’s the longest you’ve ever liked someone without telling them? A very long time. I had a big crush on Girt my freshman year, and some time after Jason, my crush for him came back, but he didn't ask me out until years later. Turns out we'd been friends just too long and the relationship felt too weird for me, so I broke up with him after I think... four months or so? We're still great friends. That's my bro. Did you prank anyone on April Fool’s Day? I never do anymore. I don't like pranks. What’s the sweetest thing a gf/bf can do to get you to forgive them? Changed behavior. Do you dislike when surveys ask to describe your underwear? Well, I'm almost always in my pajamas, sooo I generally don't even have any at that moment. Did you check to see how much fat/calories was in the last thing you ate? No. If the last person you kissed gave you roses, what would you do? Blush and thank her. Anything happened lately that you never expected to? "Never?" No. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? I'm a massive disappointment and embarrassment to that little girl. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I am absolutely a peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the plague. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? They've been divorced since I was I think 17 and I am now 25, so... Do you like pumpkin pie? Absolutely not. Do you believe in any conspiracies? I am 100% sold on that the government had some involvement in 9/11. Look into the evidence - there is an overwhelming amount. There are others that I consider as possible, but no others do I absolutely believe. I'm around 50/50 on the simulation theory. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Have you ever changed yourself to impress someone? Who? Nah. Who was the last person you gave up on? Why did you give up on them? Colleen. We simply butted heads way too much, and she just had this volatile meanness towards others I couldn't watch anymore. What was the last thing you printed? Is there even ink in your printer? Probably a paper for when I was in school. I don't know if our printer does. Have you ever gotten your nails done? Or do you get them done regularly? Yeah, with Colleen and then another time with my sisters. It was really just to hang with them, though. It's not something I'm interested in. Have you been outside yet today? What were you doing? Nope. When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Not since I was an older teen did I get Mom's bed, but it wasn't new. This was actually her parents' bed, too. Well I mean, the mattress obviously isn't that old, but the bed itself is pretty ancient. It's comfy enough. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yes: on the dead-end road that led to our old house. I was with Mom obviously and probably my sister, since I think I did it on the way home from school. Do any of your friends drink excess amounts of alcohol? Do you? Not to my knowledge. I definitely don't. Have you ever been in handcuffs? Why, exactly? Yes, because it's mandatory when being transported to a mental hospital. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? Never been drunk before. When was the last time you bled? What happened? Well it's my time of the month, so. Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any pets? I love dogs, but don't currently have one as a pet. Mom's looking intently. How often do you bathe? I'm going to be completely transparent and say not as much as I should. Doing my hair is fine, but moving all around, bending and propping my legs up exhausts my legs so much that I avoid showers as long as I can take it or until I have to go somewhere. I want strength back in my body. So. Badly. Do you have any tattoos? What, where and why? I have six that I'm not all explaining, but locations: right upper arm, right inner wrist, left inner forearm, left upper arm, right collarbone, left breast. What do you wear to bed at home? Pajama pants and a tank top. What do you wear to bed when you're somewhere else? Pj pants, tank top, and usually a bra, depending on where I'm at and with who. Do you have any phobias? What? Why do you think you have this/them? I have a lot, but I'll discuss my strangest/strongest: pregnancy, maggots, parasites, and whale sharks. Pregnancy would be because a fetus is technically parasitic, and, to cover that topic, I'm just generally terrified of anything living in MY body. I also find it absolutely disgusting to see a baby move from the outside. I will actually scream if I see this, and that is not an exaggeration. I'm afraid of maggots (larva in general, really) because I think they're just disgusting, and I once brought something in from outside and put it in my dresser (idr why), and one day I opened it and reached in for something just to find lots of little larva squirming around. That's when it started. Now, whale sharks: it's literally because of World of Warcraft, hahaha. There's an underwater zone in the game where they roam as boss enemies, and their mouths look so weird and are actually a bit toothy. Irl, they just have mouths that are just way too big for my comfort. I know they're entirely harmless, but still. If you could ask God (to atheists - IF there was one) one question, what? "Why." Why so much evil, pain, and unfairness. Briefly describe your family. Kinda broken, but still loving and try to stay close. Big "ohana" mood: everyone's loyalty is endless. Where do you stand on the death penalty? For it in extreme cases. Where do you stand on wearing fur? Disgusting and horribly morbid unless for survival purposes in cold climates. Could you kill somebody? In self-defense, yes. What are your political beliefs (anarchy, communism, democracy etc.)? I just say I'm Independent. My beliefs stretch over so many titles; plus, I'm not very educated on all types and what they entail. What, if anything, WOULD you sacrifice your life for? To save those I love most. How would your ideal partner look? *shoves picture of Mark Fischbach in ur face* Would you ever have an affair? Nope. I'm telling you: pick me or leave me be. I'm not a side-chick. Would you ever have a one night stand? Also no. What one thing would you change in this world (free Tibet, abolish Sweden)? Honestly... probably abolish all militaries. I do not in the least support war, and it's just... sad to know countries stand ready to kill the moment they "need" to. Distrust seems to make the world go 'round. Sure, a country may try to rebuild them in secrecy, but that's a preeeetty big thing to succeed in keeping under wraps. "But what if a terrorist or something rises?" I'm quite sure we could handle that without an full-on army. Maybe I'm not well-informed on this topic, but I've just never supported military presence. I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR AS DAY, I have endless respect for veterans and aspiring soldiers, because I DO understand the mentality of wanting to protect your home, but yeah. I just wish it wasn't a thing. Would you ever choose a career or job where your life was at risk? Nope. Do you have any famous relatives? Ancestors, yes, and I have a distant cousin who wrote a fantastic book, if that counts. Are you a loyal member of any organizations? No. Desired weight: At MOST 140. :/ I'd like to be closer to 120, but I'll take 140. What are your opinions on marijuana legalization? Legalize it, but treat it similarly to alcohol, like prohibiting driving high, obviously. What do you think about tipping at restaurants? Tip a minimum, and THEN increase according to service quality. Are you addicted to anything? Soda. Would you ever get back together with any of your exes? Yes. Never mind what gender you ARE, what gender do you WANT to be? I'm a female and content with that. Do you ever feel ashamed revealing your age? Yes, considering how behind I am in just being an adult. What does your parents call you? Generally just "Britt." Mom occasionally still calls me "Twinkie." ;-; Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? Wow, no. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. What’s the last thing to make you scream? Truly scream, a mix of depression and anger. I screamed into my pillow. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm an adult. I'm a tease in some romantic situations, but "hard to get" is definitely the wrong term.

[slushrottweiler]

Reactions to Ep.1 of Andromeda Six

Because @gilliandaye asked me to live blog my reactions. I forgot, so I replayed six times and made stupid notes.

Pretty background art

Oh look, I have amnesia… great 

Enter first LI:I like your vest

MC is handling this situation A LOT better than I would

I can't get over the June has the same name as my grandma

"Your legs give out" sure MC, defs not a ploy to get the hot space cowboy to catch you

Ahhh his blush is adorable!

Oh so he can blush and smoulder. That's just not fair

Ahhh hello Not-Liara

She seems nice but I'm never one d or the tranquil LIs. Too put together. 

Why would asking me questions randomly prompt my memory? That's not how memory loss works.

Oh no, dark past incoming

Eh, not gonna flirt. If I wanna hang with a pretty blue skinned genius, Ill play Mass effect

You're a doctor! Walk me to my room?

No shit your lost MC

Yay the fun, energetic one

Omg Look at his robot arm!

Holy shit every VN I play and like has 1 character with a missing arm. Lucio, Finn and now Bash. We gotta branch out…

Dude, stop calling me Kid, I Am Older Than You!

I like your tattoos handsome

Hehe, he's fun

Flirt! Flirt HARD! 

Bet your arm has vibration settings

No don't leave me with the hot assassin

Hello tall, dark and cliche

Oh no… I like the cliche 

They've got snark and banter I'm doomed

Why does this ship need an assassin. What do you people do???

I CHALLENGE  YOU! 

Fuck, he called me Princess. Im a total goner

I want to choose the snarky flirt option, but the other one ends with me pinned to a wall and I'm trash for it

I now have 2 save files

Captain on deck

So he's the grumpy one

Let me worm my way into your heart until you find me begrudgingly endearing.

I kinda wanna boop him on the nose…

Im gonna ruin this man

Bitch please you're not my supervisor - oh wait

FENRIS!!! My bloody elf husband has moved up in the world

They suspect I'm from Goldis; royal family mysteriously dead and me with amnesia. I'm sorry when did I start watching Anastasia?

Lol, he just want to watch me walk away. 

He has a cute smirk sprite

Ayame I love you please marry me

Pfft they aren't dating 

Called it

Shes the earnest tease, whilst bash is the playfil tease.

Oh shit she's holding me chin 

Top me tiny space mermaid!!!

Oh no! Mama-Ryo is mad. RUN AWAY

Crap I have to pick only 1!

I now have five additional save files

June is so soft and wholesome. I hope he's got a more complicated thing coz right now he's almost too good. And this is coming from a Superman fan.

Bash get out of my bed!

Bash get in to my bed!!!

I bet he gives good hugs

Crap I really like Damon

It's a cliche for a reason ok! 

The fact that he's tired enough for his banter to slip up is too cute. Sleepy Damon come snooze with me

Boi I'm not sleeping with you just like that. Buy me dinner first.

He called me Your Highness in a snarky insult voice and I'm so done for. 

Oh so now you're sorry Captain

Crap I'm getting Cullen-vibes from him. 

Look at you. Trying to backtrack like a mother fucker

Fine, just because I wanna see your blush sprite

Aya is so cute.

So much bi girl drama, do I wanna be you, be your bff, or climb you like a tree???

(D) all of the above 

Yes Aya, you are defs Baby

Music box talk - oh I am SOOOOO lost royalty

Am I remembering this voice or an I legit telepathic? I can sense the force oooohhhhhh

Yeah this is super Anastasia-y right down to the fancy music box being returned by my LI. 

Favs so far: Damon, Calderon & Bash

[flopgoblins]

Unconventional

Or: 3 weddings and a funeral. Weird things happen when you’re a celebrity. Mostly at conventions.

1. Katya

The girl was wearing Halley High knee socks and the ubiquitous plaid cheer skirt that Katya hadn’t felt the same about since Matt’s story about what happened after the cross-dressing photoshoot. The pigtails were a given. The extensions were off the rack, but the eyeliner was applied straighter than Katya could ever manage herself, and she told the girl so, eliciting a flustered giggle and a babble of thanks. Katya was glad she’d held herself back from making a joke about how hard it was for her to do anything straight, since it would have killed her publicist and made the girl turn an even brighter red. Plus, she’d stolen the line from Matt.

The boy was rather less effectively dressed as Wally, complete with cheap red wig, and Katya refused to examine him any further than that after feeling the bulge in his pocket when he hugged her for the photo opp. It wasn’t the first time, but it never got any less gross. At least he hadn’t made any comments about how hot it would be to see her and his girlfriend make out in matching outfits, but-

“Vanessa, there’s something I need to ask you. Um, and hopefully Katya doesn’t mind.”

Oh god.

Katya turned, ready to signal to the assistant standing off to the side of the backdrop, but then she realized the faux Wally was kneeling. The bulge in his pocket was gone, and in his hand was a small black box.

Katya let out an involuntary cackle of laughter, and clapped her hands over her mouth. Almost as mortifying as an erection in JCPenney khakis, but tragically longer lasting.

Next to her, the girl in pigtails burst into tears.

“Will you marry me?”

What followed was the predictable flurry of snotty affirmations, damp selfies, and fans still waiting in line craning their necks to see what the holdup was. Katya made as many exclamations of delight as she felt she could before warranting a SAG award, and then hustled the enfianced couple towards the exit.

But first….

“Wink twice if you need a way out,” Katya whispered to the still tremulous girl as she hugged her. “Totally understand if you only said yes because of the circumstances, it was a super weird position for him to put you in. And me. Romantic, of course. Sort of. But I can get you out the back door if you need an escape. No? Sure? Okay. Congratulations.” She released the girl, blew a kiss with a spangle-nailed hand, and turned to greet the next group.

“Oh hey! So great to meet you! You will not believe what happened with the last people who came through…”

2. Nico

Nico was still new enough to it that the meet and greets were both novel and incredibly weird. Matt and Katya didn’t even seem to register them anymore, viewing them with about the same lassitude they viewed comicon panels or table reads, but since Nico found panels and reads pretty fucking exciting, photo opps were still a definite thing. And, like having strangers touch your hair and face every morning to get you camera ready, a definite mixture of cool and intensely bizarre. He wasn’t sure if it was weirder to have people paying actual money to meet him - and hug him, and sometimes burst into tears - or to call him by Jack’s name instead of his own.

“You get paid either way,” Matt said, who’d just been Wally’d no fewer than a dozen times.

“Yeah, but,” said Nico, “they know we’re not them, right?”

Matt gave him a gentle, pitying smile, and then both were dragged off for the next round.

After some time, Nico got into the flow of it. He could almost always find something to compliment fans on - their costumes, or their memory for Halley High lore, on which he could generally go toe-to-toe, or their ability to quote his lines back to him word perfect. Katya and Matt had described all of it as vaguely awkward and mostly boring, but Nico liked it, up until the point something happened that he was pretty sure they’d been lying to him about.

‘At some point,’ Matt had said, ‘They’ll do something weird in front of you.’

‘Yeah,’ said Katya. ‘Like get you to roleplay with them.’

‘Or propose,’ said Matt.

‘Aw, fuck off,’ said Nico, who was used to them messing with him at this point.

“Sasha,” said the girl with purple streaks in her hair. “I’m asking you here, in the sight of the greatest thespian of our generation, to do me the very great honor-”

“Oh!” said Nico, and covered his mouth.

“Oh, Fern!” said Sasha, whose shirt proclaimed her a member of Wallack Nation.

“-of marrying me.”

Nico moved his hands from his mouth to his eyes as Sasha flung herself into Fern’s arms. “Oh wow! Oh my gosh!” He uncovered his eyes, saw tongue, and covered them again.

“Oh my god! Did you know that was gonna happen? Holy sh- Wow! Uh. It feels weird that I’m here. Should I leave? Kelsi, please don’t charge them the $75 for the photo opp, this one’s on me. Seriously, should I leave?”

3. Jordie

The rest of them always wrapped up meet and greets before Jordie did. Part of this was because Jordie was bad at ending conversations, and tended to let fans run riot over him, killing the time limit and the event manager’s soul. The rest of it was because Jordie’s line of fans was twice as long as anyone but Matt’s, and Jordie hated turning anyone away.

“Look on my works, ye mighty,” murmured Matt, forty-five minutes after the rest of them had finished and were still waiting for Jordie to re-emerge. He flipped his wrist, looked at his watch, and tilted against the wall. “And despair. I have seen the future, and it is blond, peppy, and nineteen.”

Katya was scrolling the #jordieswiftsdcc tag and perusing selfies from the line. “This person waited two hours to see him and is pretty much creaming herself for the opportunity. This person waited three hours and is getting his signature tattooed on her wrist. And this one looks like he’s had some minor plastic surgery to look more like him.”

“Jesus,” said Nico, horrified. He knew they sometimes forgot that their little cast member, who tended to have half the screentime and a third the lines the rest of them did, was not only a fan favorite but had amassed 5 million subscribers on YouTube for a reason. “Poor Jordie.”

Katya clicked ‘report’ on a Tweet that Nico couldn’t read beyond the handle, which was @jordieswift_tongue_my_taint. She slid her phone into her back pocket and tilted against the wall next to Matt. “Competition, Tiny. Your agency is gonna have a cow if he starts to surpass you.”

Matt curled his lip in what might have been a smirk. “My agency should just sign him and turn me out to stud.”

Katya slid down the wall until she was squatting on her heels, fringe from her boho vest brushing the floor. She dragged her finger through the dust on the ground. “Tiny ginger babies cropping up in pastures everywhere next spring. Seabiscuit, out of Georgina, by Matt.”

Matt prodded her until she tipped off her heels and sprawled on the floor. “I’m happy to sell my semen but if they actually need me to mount anyone-”

“Guys, please,” said Nico. He was getting antsy, ready to go get dinner, and bouncing a little on his toes to keep himself awake. “There are kids around. Maybe less with the semen?”

Matt dodged Katya’s attempt to pull herself up on his ankle. “How about the mounting, is the mounting okay?”

Katya grinned from the floor. “Oh, I’m sure Nico’s okay with you mounting-”

Matt yawned. “Where the hell is Jordie?” he said. “Seriously, they’re shutting down the venue any minute now.”

“Let’s go look,” said Katya, and clambered upright, scooping up her purse in one hand and Nico’s arm in the other.

Jordie was down to the last fan, but it was immediately clear why it was running over time. It wasn’t just a matter of exceeding the allotted five minutes so much as a ‘death do us part’ thing, given the fact the fan was down on one knee and Jordie looked about 30 seconds away from a nervous breakdown.

“Oh dear,” said Matt. “They got him.”

“I’ll call security,” said Katya.

Nico ignored them both and dashed towards the unfolding scene, where Jordie was babbling helplessly.

“Wait, me? You’re asking me? Oh no! I thought this was about - I thought you were going to propose to someone el- Please stop kneeling. I have - Listen, I have a- Okay, my agent didn’t tell me what to do if this happened? I think my contract says no. I’m sorry! Okay, please don’t - um, please don’t - ”

Nico took one look at the ardent worship on the fan’s face and their outstretched hand, one look at the panic in Jordie’s eyes, and leapt into the fray. “Whoa, hey. Yo! I object!”

“Wh?” said Jordie.

“I’m so sorry,” said Nico, grabbing Jordie’s arm and securing him protectively against his side. “I’m so sorry, but he can’t marry you. Bigamy’s illegal, you see, and he’s already engaged.”

“He is?” said the fan blankly. Nico could almost see them scrolling Jordie’s Wikipedia page in their mind, searching for the ‘personal life’ section.

“I am?” said Jordie, looking as terrified as if he’d actually forgotten.

The fan’s mental scroll had clearly come up blank because their eyes narrowed. “To who?”

“Whom,” said Nico, because children of English professors never missed a cue. “Uh.” He hadn’t thought this all the way through, but realized at once he couldn’t go for his first instinct and throw Katya under the bus. For one thing, it would only encourage the #katyathecougar hashtag, and for another, she might hurt him. He’d deserve it, too. “To me, of course.”

“Wh?” said Jordie.

“Come along, dumpling,” said Nico, and swept him away.

Katya and Matt watched as Nico hustled them both through an ‘emergency exit only’ door, Matt with arms folded, Katya with her phone still out and security ringing through on the other end.

“Well,” said Matt. “If Jack/Silas wasn’t a thing before, it sure as hell will be now. Quick, Kat, bookmark the tag on AO3.”

“Be honest, Matty,” said Katya, as con organizers descended on the still-kneeling fan. “You’re a leettle bit jealous that Jordie got the proposal before you did.”

“I’ve been proposed to no less than five times, Kit-Kat.”

“But never,” said Katya, with a sly smirk. “By Nico Martin.”

4. Matt

The woman clutched a silver urn in one hand and Matt’s fingers in the other. It had been at least five minutes and Matt’s smile was at risk of becoming a rictus, so he changed it to a look of quiet sympathy.

“He would have loved to meet you,” said the woman, pressing Matt’s hand even tighter. “Gloucester Lost was his favorite movie. And we had the box set of NICU: NYC. Watched it nightly.”

“I’m so glad he liked it,” said Matt. He eyed the urn, in which resided the last earthly remains of Milton Heslop, apparently Matt’s biggest fan. His agent would not be pleased to know that one of Matt’s most dedicated viewers was dust, but he supposed this was what came of approaching thirty. An aging fanbase was just what a turn on Halley High was supposed to prevent, but he supposed a woman holding her dead husband was better than yet another red wig and loosely glued protuberance. “Would you like a picture?”

“I’ve been going to all his favorite places,” said the woman, still latched to Matt’s hand like she was one of the parasite wasps from episode five and he was - well, himself. “I scattered some of his ashes at Yosemite, and some at Dollywood. He always wanted to see the Space Needle, but they wouldn’t let me through the metal detector. I thought of the beach at Gloucester, of course, where Vincent tried to drown himself, but-”

But that particular beach didn’t exist, since they’d done all their shooting in Rhode Island for tax reasons.

“-but then I thought I could do one better.”

“A photo?” said Matt again, a little desperately. The pill he taken with breakfast - ‘breakfast’ might have been a generous description, but with his morning coffee and kahlua, anyway - was wearing thin, and he would have given a finger for the chance to smoke a cigarette. Going cold turkey this week had been a mistake, no matter how much he liked being able to kiss Nico without brushing his teeth first. “We can take a - There’s a photographer right - ma’am, do you-”

She’d finally let go of his hand and was busily unscrewing the top of the urn.

“Ma’am,” said Matt, but he didn’t leap back in time. Slowed reflexes, another sin imparted by the cold turkey.

“This is for you, Milton,” said the woman sorrowfully, and upended the urn at Matt’s feet.

“Well,” said Matt later, brushing grey dust off his lapels, “I’ve had two proposals and one break-up at fan events, but I can say that was my first consecration of human remains. Slightly less awkward than the proposals, honestly. Kelsi, do you have a wet wipe? Or a vacuum?”

As the event manager hurried over with some hand sanitizer and a damp paper towel, Matt shot a glance at Katya, who was shaking helplessly in the corner with tears streaming down her face. “Kitty, if you don’t get me something to smoke and I mean now, I’m doing to sneeze Milton all over your McQueen.”

“I’ll see what I can rustle up at the crematorium,” said Katya, and dissolved into laughter once again.

[khhunniewriting]

Dile Que Tu Me Quieres

“You two are still together?” your mother asked, the sour look on her face only became more pronounced by the sigh she gave shortly after. “When will you come to your senses Y/N? A boy like that is only going to break your heart.”

“I know mom,” your sigh mimicked hers. You were an adult, able to do as you wished. This is why they didn’t bother to put so much effort into convincing you on a daily basis but they sure did like to try when they were reminded of your situation. “We’ve only been together for days, 821 to be exact,” you deadpanned.

The glare your mother gave showed she was not happy with your smart remark. 

“Any day now he’s going to fuck one of his backup dancers, get into a gang fight, or go broke buying clothes all over the world. Seriously, I’m just waiting for that one dating scandal to teach me my lesson!”

Your mother threw her slipper at you to stop your sarcastic rambling but it only made you laugh. “Don’t raise your voice to your mother, I’m just worried about you and that boy.”

A chill went up your spine once again as you heard your mother call Dean a boy. “Okay mom, first of all, he’s not a boy...he’s a man.”

“Tch,” she clicked her tongue completely ignoring your valid points.

“Second of all he’s a very successful man with a career- and before you cut me off singing is a career.”

Your mother sighed walking away. “There’s no reasoning with you.” She tried to get the last word in but you weren’t one to stand down. 

Even if she was your mother, you stood for facts and reason. Dean was nothing but loyal, kind, and loving since the moment you met him. No one could tell you otherwise. It was you who was always by his side. They didn’t know how he felt or how he made you feel. You were the only person capable of judging whether he was right for you. “I don’t know why you insist on fighting mom.” You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing your car keys. “I love you and I love Dean too so deal with it.”

\\\

As soon as you opened the door to your shared apartment Dean came over with a look of concern. “So how did it go?”

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the same, dropping the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders. 

“That bad?” Dean knew all too well that your parents disapproved of him. It hurt him to see you struggle to balance both your relationship and family life. Honestly, he would love to go with you, be right by your side as you visited your parents. He was tired of borrowing you from them- he wanted to share. He held you for a moment letting you decompress.

“I love you.”

Dean cracked a smile at your sudden profession of love. “I love you too.” His hands smoothed over your back and arms as he pulled away. Getting a good look at you made him blush. There was never a day when he didn’t think how lucky he was to have you in his life. 

“What?” you too broke out blushing. “Why are you blushing?”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck unable to face you. “You’re just so...beuatiful.” He muttered the last word. The way you stuck by him, never doubting, showed how real your relationship was. He didn’t want to lose that. “Now tell me what did she say?”

You had almost forgotten the reason you had gone over. All you wanted was to inform your parents that you would be taking Dean along as your plus one to your cousin’s wedding next weekend. “Does it matter?” you shrugged. “I’m taking you with me anyway.” It was obvious your parents had been offing you as a single woman to your relatives. “I’m going to show you off and rub it in all my bitchy cousins’ faces that I am happily taken.” They could all shove their opinions up their asses. You were happy with your private life. They didn’t have to know every detail of your life but you didn’t want the phone to start ringing months later when they found out.

Dean laughed, your determination was as bright as ever. “You know more than anyone how much I love you.” Dean took out a familiar gold ring from his pocket and slid it on your finger. “You forgot this again.”

The opposite hand clutched at your chest as you experienced a mini heart attack. “I DIDN’T-?” you exclaimed, socked. Never in your life had you had a real gold ring, let alone one with diamonds. It was hard adjusting to it. Wanting to take care of it, you would constantly take it off and place it in “safe places” to avoid losing it. “I could have lost it and never known until now.” It didn’t help that you had a full set of midi rings on each hand.

Dean smiled not thinking much about it. “It wasn’t lost. You left it on the tray beside the bathroom sink.” He knew you had probably rushed out of the shower forgetting to get your jewelry. “The necklace is in there too.”

Great, even your specially designed necklace had been left behind. “I’m such a bad girlfriend.” Dean had given it to you on your most recent anniversary. It hardly ever left your neck, the exception being when you showered. 

“You’re not a bad girlfriend...” Dean seemed to defend you. “...You’re just a forgetful fiance.”

Because of Dean’s popularity, the whole engagement had to be kept between you two until he could find a way to get the news out there without some third-party speculation. He wanted to personally announce it- let it all come from him.

The truth was you were pregnant! HIs proposal and your test results came too close together making it difficult to announce without people writing it off like a shotgun wedding. He was too happy to fight with reporters. 

“For our child’s sake, I hope you don’t continue to forget things.”

“What, you think I’ll forget the baby at the hospital or something?” you laughed jokingly. 

He joined in the laughter but very seriously began to wonder what your parents' reaction would be to the news. Thankfully you had yet to show any signs of pregnancy and could put off the worry for a few more months. He, on the other hand, was worried since day one. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked when you saw his smile fade.

“You don’t think me being a singer is-” His lips stopped moving as yours joined his in a soft heartfelt kiss. 

The love would always be there no matter what Dean did for a living. If he continued as a singer into his old age or if he quit and became a hip stay at home dad. You never wanted him to doubt. “Is that a good enough answer?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” He slyly countered, “can you repeat it?”

Even if he was playing around you let him have it once more. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck demanding to be carried off like the spoiled queen he taught you to be.

\\\

The wedding went...well. 

Dean was popular with all your relatives aged 30 and down. They didn’t even need to be introduced rather they had to be reminded he wasn’t there as a singer but as your fiance boyfriend. They kept nagging him to sing. You, of course, fought them off trying to keep it a day off for Dean.

Being the greatest person alive, Dean gave in to the bride’s wishes. He assured you it was no problem and that it would “give your parents a chance to see first hand what he did.” 

Your parents had never so much as heard Dean. They were pleasantly surprised when they heard his soft melodic voice fill the event venue. Because of his tattoos, fancy clothes, and common misconceptions of hip-hop singers they had painted him differently. 

It was funny to see your father’s frown of approval. It was hard to hear them but you were sure he had said something along the lines of “not bad” to your mother.

He rejoined you after taking a few pictures. “That was interesting...” he gave you a peck on the cheek as he took his seat beside you once more. “Your little cousin, the flower girl, she asked me to call a classmate and tell her it was really me in the picture she posted on Instagram.”

You were a fit of giggles as he explained the situation. 

“I didn’t know children could be so thorough.” The classmate practically gave him an over-the-phone interview to confirm his identity. 

“Children are more advanced nowadays.”

He couldn’t agree more. What grade-schooler had an iPhone and multiple social media profiles? As he learned today, many. Dean had to admit he was a bit worried about his own child. “We can’t give ours a phone until high school.”

You laughed, “deal.”

It wasn’t until a few months later that Dean broke the news about your engagement and subsequent pregnancy. That’s when Dean was invited to your parent’s house for the first time ever.

“Time to face the music I suppose.” Dean held your hand as he helped you out of the car.

“Should be easy.” You couldn’t resist but joke about it. “You are a singer after all.” The free hand rubbed your protruding belly. Finally, a sign of your child was given to you. Dean had worried every day since the announcement. There were so many comments being made.

“People will always talk. I’m sure many of your true fans will still love you and make up for those who wish to see us fail and become unhappy.”

“I’m not really worried about the fans.”

“Good because I’m not really worried about them either. Same goes for anyone else.” His eyes looked at you intently, waiting for you to put him at ease with your sweet words. “I love you and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too,” he grinned. Instinctively, he had to kiss you for confessing your love to him.

“Haters can fight me.”

The idea of you fighting anyone, with your barely being able to make it through the day, was comical. Even if the baby had yet to grow significantly you were lethargic and suffered from swollen feet. Most days you ended up napping three to four times a day. Nonetheless, he was a supportive husband. “No one stands a chance.”

-end-

A/N: Yes, the title is in Spanish but the fic is still in English. I could have translated it but I simply chose to make the title of this fic be the name of the song that inspired it. The song is in Spanish so hence the title.

Dile que tu me quieres by Ozuna

English Translation