#oh to have a karaoke night with both of them that would be so much fun

[peri-peri-sauce]

Nonsense aside, I absolutely love these two so fucking much 🥹

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Buck's favorite words

Just a little idea I couldn't get out of my head so enjoy this ficlet 🙂

***

Buck isn't sure why he likes the word so much, but every time he says it, it's like sugar on his tongue. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and like everything is right with the world.

"Sorry, I'm flattered but I'm seeing someone," Buck says to the pretty girl he's just evacuated from a 3-alarm blaze. His voice is kind but firm, a far cry from the Buck of old who might have preened at the attention.

"Oh come on, handsome hero man. Give me your number," she purrs, reaching out to touch his arm.

Her relentlessness gives Buck a little push, and he finds himself using the word for the first time in public. It rolls off his tongue easily, filling him with a quiet pride.

"Sorry, but like I said, I'm taken," he says, gently stepping back. Then, with a smile that's both apologetic and genuinely happy, he adds, "I have a boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sits in the air between them, and Buck feels a warmth spread through his chest.

From then on, he finds himself saying it as often as he can, each time feeling that same warmth, that same quiet joy.

At the flower shop, where he's picking out a bouquet for his and Tommy's dinner date, the florist asks, "Do you need help picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, actually," Buck replies with an easy smile. "And I'm good, thanks."

At the coffee shop, he leans on the counter, eyes scanning the pastry case. "Do you have any cranberry orange scones? My boyfriend loves them," Buck asks the barista warmly.

Later, at the bar waiting for Tommy, a pretty girl sends a drink over. Buck catches her eye, raises the glass in thanks, and then gently shakes his head. When she approaches, he's ready with a now-familiar phrase: "I'm flattered, but I have a boyfriend."

Each time he says it, 'boyfriend' feels more natural, more right. It's not just a word anymore—it's a declaration of who he is, who they are together. And Buck finds he loves that feeling almost as much as he loves Tommy.

There's nothing better than the word boyfriend. That is, until a new word takes its place.

At a restaurant, the waiter approaches with menus in hand. "Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?"

Buck's eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. "No thanks, my fiancé should be here soon." The word 'fiancé' rolls off his tongue like honey, sweet and perfect.

On a work call to a new gym, Buck finds himself pacing with excitement. "Wow! This place is nice. Do you have a free trial? I bet my fiancé would love to try it out." He can't help but emphasize the word, feeling a thrill every time he says it.

Later, meeting with the wedding caterers, Tommy sits right next to him, their hands intertwined. Buck squeezes Tommy's hand as he says, "No, we definitely don't want German chocolate cake. My fiancé is allergic to coconut." He glances at Tommy, catching his soft smile at the word.

With each use, 'fiancé' becomes more than just a title. It's a promise, a future, a declaration of forever. And Buck realizes that while 'boyfriend' was wonderful, 'fiancé' is magical—a constant reminder of the commitment they've made and the life they're building together.

But the magic of 'fiancé' only lasts for so long before it's also replaced with something even more profound.

At the hospital, Buck's heart races as he approaches the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Evan Kinard. I just got a call that my husband was here." The word 'husband' feels both new and familiar on his lips.

The receptionist nods reassuringly. "Oh sure, it looks like your husband has just been discharged. Just smoke inhalation and a minor concussion."

Later, at Maddie's place, Buck finds himself chuckling as Chimney and Tommy argue about movies. He turns to his sister with a grin. "I don't know whose husband is more stubborn, yours or mine."

At the 118's karaoke night, Buck takes the stage, his eyes locked on Tommy. "I'd like to dedicate this song to my husband," he announces, his voice full of love. As the opening notes of "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" begin to play, Buck starts to sing, his voice soft and sincere. Tommy's face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and deep affection as Buck serenades him in front of their friends and colleagues.

Each time Buck says 'husband', he feels a surge of pride and love. It's more than just a word—it's a testament to their journey, their commitment, and the life they've chosen to share. And Buck knows, without a doubt, that 'husband' is his favorite word yet.

[katz-rambles]

hello! I see your taking requests so can i request arcane charaters reacting to the reader with a good singing voice? please and Thank you!

Of course! I'm a former choir kid, so now so is the reader, specifically a soprano.

(fluff, gn!reader, established relationships with the characters (separate), I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Jinx

• She's immediately in love with your voice, that's a given.

• Constantly asks you to sing for her, and if you do it's like she's in her own little world where it's just the two of you.

• When she puts on her music while she's tweaking with her inventions, if you start to sing along, she'll fold right then and there. She's in a trance.

• She purposefully keeps the music quieter than normal so she can hear you better.

• If she recently had an episode, you're one of the people she may go to afterward to help her calm down. Your voice is therapeutic to her.

"Whoa, toots. You never told me you could sing. Oh! We could sing together! Just you and me!!"

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Vi

• A lot like her sister, she loves your voice. She would actually pay you to sing for her.

• Please do karaoke with her. It's one of her favorite things, and it also gives her an excuse to listen to you sing.

• If you two are laying in bed together, she may start to hum a tune, as a silent ask to have her sing with you, and you know this. Plus, who are you to deny her your beautiful voice?

• One of her favorite things to do with you is sing. You two could be working on your own little projects, and she'll turn on a good song, and you two will just sing together.

• Taken together, she loves your voice. She's not afraid to tell you that either.

"Oh, come on, cupcake. Your voice is.. angelic. Please, can you choose the song this time?"

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Ekko

• Loves to hear you sing. Honestly, he also has an angelic voice (but don't tell anyone.)

• He will 100% sing with you. You two can harmonize amazingly. His voice is the perfect opposite to yours.

• He lays his head in your lap and just listening to you sign, or hum. Either way, he loves listening to you.

• If you sign to the kids, especially to help them calm down, he's head over heels. Immediately.

• After a long mission, you help him calm down by you both singing. It's so therapeutic for both of you.

"Thank you, bug. I mean it, you don't know how much I needed that. Your voice is amazing, thank you."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Vander

• Kareoke nights at the bar. The people love you, and so does he.

• If you sing ragtime, or anything similar, he asks you to have a certain day of the week or month dedicated to you performing live music.

• He enjoys listening to you. So do Powder and Violet. They all love to listen to you, especially after a particularly long day.

• If you two have a few drinks, he'll pit a record on, and you two will dance and sign for hours.

• He loves it when you sing while cooking. If you like to cook, it's so domestic. It's something that helps him calm down.

"Powder loves it when you sing for her, you know. She said so herself. She loves it, almost, as much as I do, darl'."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Grayson

• She's head over heels for you when she figures it out. Your voice is such an opposite compared to her raspy voice.

• She finds you entrancing, every nite you can, or can't, hit just fuels her love for you.

• After almost every mission she loves to hear you sing, it's such a comfort for her.

• Sometimes she'll place a finger or two on to your neck while you sing to feel the vibrations of your voice and to mess with you by pressing down to give you a voice crack.

• If you try and teach her how to sing, she'll actually fold. You're so sweet, and you always sound amazing. Please sign and let her dance with you.

"You sound so pretty, you know. I could never tire of hearing you, love."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Marcus

• Another one who falls head over heels when he finds out you can sing. It's such a simple thing, but it brings him so much joy to see and hear you enjoy it so much.

• Please sing to his daughter. If you do, he's getting on one knee and marrying you right then and there.

• He can't sing, but he tries. He's not off key or anything. He's just not the best at it.

• When, and if you feel comfortable singing to him, he's only focused on you. He loves it, and so does his daughter.

• If, after a long day, he finds you singing a lullaby to his daughter, I think he'd cry. He loves knowing that you care so much for her and for him.

"I heard you singing to Ren. She loves your voice. It helps her feel more at home. So.. thank you. We.. I don't deserve you."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Caitlyn

• Oh, where to start..? She's so excited when she figures out you can sing. Because not only can you sing, but you're amazing at it too!

• You two have kareoke nights, all the time. Her parents get annoyed when it's like two in the morning, and you two are tipsy and singing whatever songs you guys can find. But it's all in good fun.

• She's kinda off-key when she sings, but you don't mind at all. You're just glad she's having fun.

• Because she's a little off-key, it probably took some convincing to get her to sing with you. When you do convince her, she's still a little self-conscious about her voice, but when she hears yours, it's like all her worries just seem to melt away.

• You two seem to have the most fun when you're a little tipsy, though. That's when all your worries just seem to melt away, and neither of you can find a care to worry about anything other than each other's voices. If you offer to give her lessons, she'll actually cry, you're just so so sweet. She's so in love with you.

"Are you sure, my love? I know, you don't mind.. but isn't that just extra work. And besides, you're so good at singing, we're opposites! That just makes us better."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Viktor

• Oh my lord, he's fallen even harder than he already has. You just keep on getting better and better. He's convinced you're actually perfect.

• Please hum a little tune while you're both sitting in the lab, whether it's to calm you both down or just because you're bored, he stops what he's doing and gives you his full attention. Jayce wants to know your secrets.

• If you ever find him overworking himself, just promise that if he comes home with you, you two will put on a song of his choice and sing together. Nine times out of ten, this will work almost immediately.

• A lot like Vander, he loves to watch you sing while you cook or bake. It's such a wonderful sight to see when he comes home from a particularly rough day at the lab.

• Sit outside with him, and sing and dance the night away, with some star gazing thrown in here and there.

"You never told me you could sing. No, no.. please don't stop. You're wonderful, darling."

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Jayce

• Heart eyes.

• Pretty, pretty, please come down to where he makes the hammers and find a beat within the hammer making with whatever tune comes to your head.

• He can sing, I'll die on this hill. He's amazing at it. He's just never told anyone. So there's a lot of you two singing to whatever song he can find to play.

• He enjoys writing little songs with you to sing together. It's your guys' version of a nice date, and you both love it.

• When you two are creating said songs, sometimes you two spice it up by adding some, impossible, theories inside the song, posing them as notes, and then giving them to Viktor to watch him freak out over the absolute terror he feels. You two also love to harmonize, you two are amazing and are constantly singing.

"Ooh! What if we do something about space not being real or a flat earth. He'll go crazy. Yeah, I know it's a little mean, but that's the whole point. Then after we can play some records together?"

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊

Mel

• She's in love. She doesn't sing or hear people sing too often, only for the plays and occasional operas that are held.

• If you're an opera singer, she'll try her hardest to convince you to join the cast of one. She'll be your biggest supporter.

• She won't admit it to anyone, but she has, on multiple occasions, fallen asleep to listening to you sing.

• If you take her up on her idea of joining an opera cast, she'll be a little bit jealous that other people can hear your angelic voice.

• She sings. She's good at it, but she rarely ever feels the need to. That was until she met you. Now, if you offer to help her out with refreshing her skills with singing, you bet she'll almost immediately agree. She says it's so she can get better, but you both know it's just an excuse so she can hear your voice.

"You were amazing out there, love. You had the whole crowd entranced, really. I've never seen someone with such skill before."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Double Date (part 6.5)

Better late then never here's the mentioned double date between Harley and Ivey, and Hyena and Hood. It's unedited so please point out any errors you find.

Previous | Masterpost | Next

They really should have expected this when Harley had mentioned Jason and Danny joining her and Pam for a double date. Of course Harley would forget to actually plan, and would just show up, dressed to the nines with Pam on her arm yelling about an event at Penguin's club.

"Come on! we're going to be late for karaoke!" Harley yelled before she processed that Hood had ducked to hide his face and Hyena had a gun trained on them, his mouth stretched too wide in a snarl. "Oh, oops," She said sheepishly as Pam sighed and shook her head.

"Harley, did you forget to tell them we were coming?" Pam questioned with fond exasperation.

"No she did not," Jason said, returning with his helmet on and offering Danny his muzzle. Danny shrugged and took it though he didn't put it on right away. "She mentioned a double date when she brought Danny the flowers but we hadn't heard anything since."

"Oh shoot I'm sorry guys! I got so excited I guess I made the plan in my head! I could have sworn I'd asked," Harley apologized, pouting at the two of them. "Can we still go out though? I really want to do the Karaoke night, I was really looking forward to going with both of you."

Jason glanced at Danny, who glanced back at him, first uncertainly, then when Jason shrugged indicating he didn't mind, with puppydog eyes. Danny wanted to go. Jason sighed. "Fine, get out and give us 20 minutes to get ready and then we can go."

Harley cheered and Danny grinned, scrambling off to their bedroom to grab their clothes. Danny decided on a pair of leather pants and a shirt just sheer enough that his scars weren't obvious, and a more casual cloth facemask with a pattern of bared fangs. It covered his mouth and nose but he could slip a straw under it to have a drink, and it wouldn't muffle his voice too much when they sang.

Jason chose black pants, a red shirt, a brown leather jacket with plenty of concealed weapons, and a wide domino mask. He also took a minute to colour the white streak in his hair black so he'd be less distinctive, insisting Danny did the same, once he'd finished his eyeliner. Danny groaned about it but did it anyway.

"Okay, we're ready to go?" Jason asked, checking Danny out. He sure as hell looked ready for a night out on the town, he looked so fucking good with eyeliner, and those tight black black leather pants... No, Jason couldn't focus on that!

Danny, who smiled with his eyes and nodded eagerly, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him towards the door. "We're ready to go!" He cheered as soon as he spotted Harley, who immediately cheered as well and lunged forward to hug Danny tightly as he laughed.

"Good now let's go! We're already late!" Harley babbled, dragging Danny towards the door as Pam and Jason followed at a more languid pace.

"And who's fault is that Harls?" Pam chided gently. "You need to learn how to communicate plans like this with people."

"I know, but I really thought I had," Harley said with a pout as she continued to drag Hyena out of the building and into a car they all piled into, Jason insisted on driving Eben though it wasn't his car because he couldn't imagine Harley was a good driver. Pam laughed and said she wasn't while Harley pouted, Jason drove.

They arrived at the iceberg lounge with no trouble. IDs weren't needed to enter, just being recognized as one of Gotham's rogues and since right now Hood and Hyena were practically royalty they were welcomed with open arms. Penguin even got them a last minute table and comped their first bottle, he knew it would pay to stay on the good side of Gotham's new power couple after all. Harley chugged her first glass of bubbly and took off to put her name down for the song she wanted.

"She's not a half bad singer," Pam assured them as she sipped her own glass of champagne more slowly. "Are either of you going to sing?"

Jason glanced over at Danny, who seemed to be hesitating, looking uncertain. Jason shifted closer and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's waist. "Do it if you want to, I'll go up with you," he encouraged and Danny relaxed a bit.

Danny turned a little to whisper into Jason's ear. "I don't really sing, I'm good at it but since I'm a banshee my voice can be powerful. I've always been worried that singing will have, I don't know, do something?" He said like a question.

"Has it ever done anything?" Jason asked and Danny hesitated before shaking his head.

"No, not unless I scream," Danny admitted reluctantly.

"Alright, then we'll give it a try," Jason assured, kissing the side of Danny’s head before taking a sip of his drink.

Danny nodded and grabbed a straw, slipping it into the drink so he could sip it. Pam topped up their drinks when they were half empty.

"So what song do you think you want to do? Harley'll probably drag me up to do a duet. I always say I won't but she gets me with those puppy-dog eyes," she chuckled fondly, clearly not actually upset about that.

"Oh I know the feeling," Jason agreed, shaking his head.

"I have excellent puppydog eyes," Danny chirped, snuggling closer. Jason rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"I bet he does," Pam laughed softly, amused by the two of them.

"What song should we do? Do you think they have Come With Me Now? We've sung that one together before? Or Vicious, No no! We should do Zombie Love!" Danny suggested sounding excited, though that might just be two glasses of champagne in a body unused to managing alcohol. As long as Danny’s ghostly abilities didn't clear toxins as quickly as physical injuries.

"They can find whatever you want," Pam promised with a snicker. "Pangoo wants to be on both your good sides really bad."

Jason snorted, leaning back against the booth with a crooked and cocky grin. "He knows what my rules are, everyone does, follow them and we'll be fine," he said with a careless little wave.

"Oh don't tell him that!" Harley said, popping out of nowhere and making Jason and Danny jump. "It's so fun watching him scramble," she snickered, flopping down next to Pam, wrapping her arms around Pam's neck. "Come sing with meee," she pleaded as Pam poured her another drink.

"Harley you promised you wouldn't make me this time," Pam chided her without any heat. She didn't actually mind it seemed.

"We'll go first and you can talk her into it," Danny cackled, grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him up and over to the sign-in desk.

They signed up to do Zombie Love because they both thought it was funny. It wasn’t a traditional duet or anything but they could sing it together, that seemed to make Danny feel better too. His voice was beautiful, and he kept his distance from the mic so it wouldn't be too loud because he had very powerful lungs. He seemed more interested in practically grinding on Jason anyway, who was just trying very hard not to blush and potentially taint his fearsome reputation by blushing at his boyfriend's antics.

Harley was whooping and wolf whistling at them excitedly before the song ended and Danny dragged Jason back off the stage laughing breathlessly. He seemed thrilled as he pressed himself against Jason purring under the cover of the music and nuzzling against his neck.

"Hyena we're in public," Jason half joked with his hands gripping Danny's hips too tightly.

"No one's going to say anything, they're scared of us," Danny murmured into Jason's ear making him shiver.

"Hey lovebirds! We supported you while you sang!" Harley accused them, bouncing over to practically pry the two of them apart.

Danny let go while laughing, smiling at Harley with his eyes. "So did you two decide what you're going to sing?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Ya! We're going to do Promiscuous Girl," Harley yipped, Ivy just smiling at her indulgently.

"Then of course we'll cheer you on! But then we're going to dance!" Danny insisted with a wicked glint in his eye that nearly had Jason swooning. Oh he was absolutely going to be pent up and suffering by the end of the night. They should do things like this more often.

Harley and Ivy's duet was pretty good, Pam kept Harley from going too off key and they were clearly having fun. Jason decided to be more stoic about his support, nodding his head to the beat and letting Danny howl and whistle for the both of them. They both clapped when they finished and Harley bounced off the stage again with Pam close in tow.

Danny grabbed Jason and dragged him to the dance floor, and Jason wondered how he could be so graceful and confident in a fight and so fucking lost on the dance floor. He was too aware of his body, and the eyes that were on him and didn't fully know how to behave. Thankfully Danny made sure that didn't last long as he dragged Jason into dancing with him. Jason was content to be essentially a prop and watch as Danny moved with more sensual grace than he had any right to be, flowing with the music in a way that was almost hypnotic.

Jason only became aware that other people thought so too when Harley cut in demanding to dance with Danny as well! Jason chuckled and relinquished Danny to her, going to sit back at their table with Pam. Only then did he notice all the people staring at Danny, the little ring of watchers they'd acquired.

"Is he part siren or something?" Ivy teased him as Jason drank a glass of.. something probably too quickly.

"Something like that," Jason agreed vaguely. "Why are the Gotham City Sirens recruiting?"

"No, but the Birds of Prey might be," Ivy said, smirking at him.

"Hey, no planning to steal my boyfriend," Hood joked, his eyes drawn back to Danny and Harley dancing together. It was... something, they were both completely unaware of the eyes on them, confident and at home in their bodies and sexuality. It was quite the show, and Jason was just glad he was the one Danny would be coming home with.

"Can we borrow him at least?" She asked playfully.

"Weelll I suppose if he agrees to it I can't be too mad," Jason relented, hesitation only for show. They would be good friends to Hyena he was sure.

"Good, now let's just enjoy the night, and how fucking sexy our partners are." Pam said, raising her glass to Jason in a toast, which he returned, clinking his glass against hers.

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: Closer

cowritten with @astroboots

Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)

Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.

Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.

[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]

Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 

Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 

It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 

The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 

A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 

A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 

But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 

For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 

Always you.

You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.

And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 

Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 

And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 

The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 

He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.

“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.

You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.

Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  

He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 

Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 

Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.

Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 

He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.

Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 

"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 

Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 

"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."

Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 

Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 

Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.

Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.

Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"

You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.

It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 

Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.

As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 

He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.

When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.

It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 

Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 

"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 

Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you  need me to stop?" 

"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."

You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.

Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.

Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 

You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.

You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.

Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.

His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 

"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"

"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.

"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.

He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.

He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.

It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 

You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.

"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 

You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"

That's more like it. 

"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"

You nod into the pillow.

He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.

"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"

"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.

It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 

"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."

Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.

A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.

One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 

He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 

Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.

It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.

And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 

"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 

He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.

You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.

"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 

"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"

Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 

Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.

You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.

"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.

"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 

"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."

Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 

But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.

He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.

"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"

"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"

His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 

The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.

Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 

He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 

Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 

Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 

You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.

"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.

Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.

It's not enough.

He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 

Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 

He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.

Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–

"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 

His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.

He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 

Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.

The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.

He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 

Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.

All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 

You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 

"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"

"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."

That's all Jake needs to hear.

He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 

Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it

He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.

“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”

And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.

"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.

"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."

Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 

By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.

Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 

When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.

You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 

You’re beautiful.

You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 

The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.

“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.

You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.

Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.

Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 

You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 

He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.

Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.

In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 

It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .

Thanks for reading!

—

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[hunnyswift]

chapter one: hey, cowboy

summary: in which jake seresin is called back to san diego for a mission and meets the perfect girl…

chapter cw: profanity, use of alcohol, sexual innuendos, age gap

18+ minors DNI

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

if there was one thing you loved , it was the hard deck. the perfect bar for you and your two best friends to work at and constantly drink at. the three of you had moved to san diego not that long ago , and upon exploring where you lived , you found the bar right down the road from your shared beach house.

at first , it was just a place for you three to wind down after a long day or party until the sun came up on a weekend. nathalie was the first one to apply to be a bartender , and then mckenna , and finally with some convincing , you.

tonight , however , it was only nathalie and penny behind the bar. you and mckenna had the night off seeing as it was a wednesday night. it wouldn’t get so busy that all of you would need to be on the clock.

so , around seven you and mckenna made your way there with tupperware in your hands — dinner for the ladies behind the bar. nathalie had been working all day , so you knew she was most likely starving , and how could you bring food for her and not your favorite boss ever?

“we brought sustenance!” mckenna announced as she burst through the front doors , making her way behind the bar to kiss and hug both nathalie and penny.

“we had so much left over and knew you two were working so hard and long we couldn’t not,” you explained , handing the boxes over and smiling when you see them pop open immediately.

penny thanked you both after eating a few bites and then turned around to help the next guest. for a wednesday evening , it was pretty busy. “what’s going on tonight?” mckenna asked for you , eyes moving around the crowd of uniforms.

“karaoke , duh,” you joked ; it was your idea to bring karaoke to the hard deck. though it took a lot of convincing and heckling penny , she ending up agreeing about a month ago. it’d been a hit so far , but nothing like the crowd tonight.

nathalie looked up , still shoveling the lasagna into her mouth as much and as fast as possible before she had to get back to work. “mm! bunch of pilots and sailors are back right now. don’t know why or for what. but that’s why there’s so much khaki floating around,” nathalie explained , pointing around with her fork.

“meow!” mckenna purred , grabbing the drink in front of her — penny quickly and slickly sliding hers and your drink onto the bar.

“oh please, i bet they’re all dogs that last five minutes in bed. don’t waste your time , kenny,” you laughed , sipping on your own drink.

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

jake seresin and bradley bradshaw did not like each other. that much was clear from their first interaction of the night — going back and forth was their thing. they were competitive and snarky.

but after years of knowing each other and being sent all over the world together , they’ve come to an agreement. the only thing in common these two had was the fact that they loved women. luckily enough for them , they didn’t have the same type , not once going for the same lady before.

so , when their group had settled down and jake noticed two gorgeous young ladies walk into the bar and start chatting with penny and the bartender , he nudged bradley and nodded their way. bradley’s eyes followed , landing on yours.

your lips curl when you notice the two men staring and you jolt your head , silently asking them what the fuck they wanted. bradley laughed , patting jake on the back as he ‘called’ your friend.

“mustache and ken doll headed our way,” you moaned quietly to mckenna and nathalie , turning back in your seat to not face them any longer.

mckenna doesn’t try to hide her exciting , looking over her shoulder quickly and smiling when she saw the aforementioned mustache. “hot!”

“ladies,” bradley spoke first , sliding in between you and mckenna while jake stood next to you with a smile.

“the name’s hangman,” he spoke , holding his hand out to you to shake. you grimaced but took his hand in yours nonetheless.

“i’m gonna go back to work,” nathalie chuckled , eyeing the two of her friends. mckenna obviously falling for her guy’s smile and charm while you looked miserable. “love you!”

“love you too,” mckenna replied easily as you groaned the same response out.

“wanted to stop over here and say hi , introduce myself , y’know?” hangman explained , waving to the area around you. “haven’t seen ya here before.”

“is that a question?” you wondered , holding back a chuckle at his tone. you’d never seen him before. “because i’ve never seen you either , and i work here so…”

“is that so!” hangman smiled , sitting down in the empty bar stool next to you, “cause i was just over there saying to my buddies how i feel like i’d remember a face like yours.”

“got anything better than that, cowboy?” you raised your eyebrows , recognizing his southern accent easily. he sounded like home in a way. hangman laughed , never having been called out before. “like a real name? not some call sign?”

“jake seresin at your service , ma’am,” he corrected his earlier statement , reaching his hand out again as a fresh start.

“wonderful,” you smiled , introducing yourself as well. “you buying me a drink? or just flirting for the fun of it since you probably haven’t seen a woman since the eighties?” you questioned , shaking your now empty glass in your hand.

“what’ll it be? call your friend over here again,” jake instructed , nodding to nathalie , who hadn’t strayed too far. “oh , and i’m not that old!”

you laughed , letting your head fall back. “no? that’s what most forty year olds say.”

“alright , alright. i am not forty! do i look forty?” jake started to sound worried , only causing your laugh to grow.

“lielie , will you grab me another please? on mr. hangman’s tab!” you giggled at nathalie , handing your glass to her.

“top shelf tequila like usual?” nathalie joked , looking to jake to see his reaction , which was hard considering all he was doing was looking at you with a goofy smile.

jake reached his hand out for a second , stopping nathalie from moving to grab any liquor. “actually , you might wanna check her id. how old are ya , sweetheart? twelve?”

“ugh! you wish , perv!” you jested back , pulling his hand back from nathalie, “i actually am twenty-one , for your information.”

jake laughed with you , noticing how your hands were still connected. “alright fine , grab her whatever she wants , lielie,” he nodded kindly.

nathalie looked between the two of you , shocked someone else had called her by the nickname you made for her. “yes , sir.”

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

since jake had come up to you , and mustache had reached mckenna , you’ve downed several drinks. mustache’s sung a few songs , and nathalie clocked out. but now , rather sitting at the bar , you three had joined the guys and their pilot friends. it was going well.

“no , no! i could slaughter you in a game of eight-ball!” you shouted , pointing at coyote , jake’s closest buddy within the group. “i swear on my mother!”

“oh no , she’s bringing up her mama,” mckenna giggled , sipping on what seemed like her hundredth drink of the night , leaning into bradley’s arms.

coyote let out a belly laugh , standing up and grabbing a pool cue. “game on , kid.”

jake let go of your hand , allowing you to stand up freely and get to work. “lielie , how much you make tonight?” you asked , picking out a pool cue of your own — the same one you used every night.

“um — i don’t know , like $350?” she replied , eyebrows furrowed.

“alright , coyote. i’ve got $350 on this game. you okay with that?” your smile was playful , but you were completely serious.

mckenna sobered up for a second. “babe , are you sure?”

“yeah , y/n/n , i don’t know these guys well enough to bet my tips for the night,” nathalie agreed , her lips tight.

you flash them both a look. “how many nights have i beat maurice in a row?” you played against one of the older regulars that came in all the time , working or not. it was a tradition at this point.

“like a lot?” mckenna guessed.

“honestly , i love it!” phoenix , the only female pilot of the group spoke up. “machado , i’ll add a hundred to the pot. i don’t think you’re winning this one.”

“i’ll rack them up,” he laughed , setting the game up.

“sweetheart , you’ve got a lot of confidence,” jake whispered into your ear , smiling at the fact that you’ve gotten more comfortable with him and his buddies.

you turn into his arms. “jacob , it’s not confidence. it’s skill , and it speaks for itself. just watch. i know you’ll enjoy it,” you whispered back , kissing his cheek before pushing him back into the booth.

the pool game starts , people choosing their sides and who their betting on , throwing their own bets in the mix. “coyote , all you need is to make every ball the next round and for me to miss this one. really , shouldn’t be too tough,” you chided as you lined up your shot , the last of yours before the eight ball. you sink the twelve ball in , looking up at your opponent and shrugging. “oops?”

“that’s my girl!” jake cheered , clapping his hands together with a laugh.

“coyote , man , she’s killing you,” fanboy jested , cracking up with payback and phoenix. bob laughed quietly with them , popping a couple more peanuts into his mouth.

“shut up!” coyote warned , clearly stumped by the fact that he was being beat at his own game by some twenty-something year old.

“c’mon , babe! you’ve got this!” mckenna yelled , shaking nathalie in her arms. “we’re winners!”

you relocated around the table , calling the pocket before getting low and aiming again. “sorry , coyote. it wasn’t meant to be for you,” you apologized , shooting your shot and making the ball in. “but it looks like nathalie made $700 tonight!”

the whole group jumped out of their spots , jake grabbing you in a hug before passing you off to your friends as he went to rub it in coyote’s face.

“i love you , woman,” nathalie beamed , jumping up and down with mckenna as they shimmied towards you , ‘making it rain’.

“this is why you’re my best friend , i swear,” mckenna howled , hugging you tightly. “we getting drunk tonight!!!!”

taking your drink back from jake , you smiled. this was fun. usually , you , mckenna , and nathalie stuck to yourselves or hung around with penny and the older gentlemen that frequented the hard deck. this was worth it though.

“wanna celebrate?” you asked , raising an eyebrow at jake as you finished your drink , nodding to the bar.

“c’mon , sweetheart. i’m buying!” jake wrapped his arm over your shoulder , beginning your walk to the bar. he let you sit down , standing behind you closely.

you were willing to wait patiently for penny to make her way to you , knowing she was still busy despite it being near bar close. but you could feel jake pressed against your back , his lips ghosting down your neck , telling you how good you looked beating coyote. “let’s celebrate at home! guys , we’re afties at the house! meet you there!” you announced to everyone still hanging around the table , throwing a hundred on the bar for penny and yanking jake by the hand out the building.

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

ooohh first chapter is out! show it some love please<3

this is also not proof-read! i’ll going thru it when i put the next chapter out , but until then y’all are blind to potential typos and fuck ups

[honeipie]

CHICK-FLICKS!

eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

synopsis: eijiro was given a tip on a way into your heart

“what are you watching?”

you looked behind the couch to see eijiro leaning himself against it. the sound of uncomfortable groaning came from the television. you grabbed the remote to pause the movie.

"bridesmaids!.. have you never seen it?"

kirishima raised both eyebrows still looking at the screen.

"i think i would've remembered a girl taking a massive dump in the sink"

turning to the television you tilted your head.

"she is taking a massive dump isn't she?" you went to find the remote again "sorry about that. sometimes i forget what i'm watching can be weird since i've seen it so many times. i'll watch it in my room"

he placed a hand over yours to stop you from turning it off.

"whoa! i never said to turn it off. i'm invested now" he hopped over the couch settling in next to you "so what is braidsmaids and what does it have to do with shitting in a sink?"

"well when you put it like that it sounds horrible" you gave him an innocent look making him smile "but it's about this one girl who's friend is getting married and she's doing her best to help plan it. but then this other girl swoops in and acts like she's that girl's best friend so it just makes the original best friends plans look all stupid and messed up so-" you stopped taking notice to the look on his face. the lights were on, but nobody was home "you don't understand a single thing i'm saying to you right now do you?" he rubbed the back of his neck a sheepish smile forming on his lips.

"nah, i'm sorry. i got lost after that one girl.. who was the girl.. who isn't her best friend?"

"don't hurt yourself" taking the remote you rewinded the movie back to the beginning.

"you don't have to do that! i probably would've gotten it eventually!"

you shook your head "nope! you are going to experience everything this amazing movie has to offer" so you settled back into the couch making sure to place your bowl of treats between you.

"oh! i forgot to warn you. the first scene is a little.. much"

but kirishima wasn't watching the screen all too much. he had his crimson eyes subtly gazing at you every chance that he got. the boy had a major crush on you, but wasn't sure how to get an in. every time he tried to start up a conversation with you, he wouldn't know what to say, which would end up with mina coming over to save his ass. that was until mina gave him some pointers.

"listen dude. you can't keep freezing up around her like you’re kaminari after he short circuits" she imitated the boy making him laugh until he realized she was insulting him.

"hey! it's not my fault! every time she looks at me i just want to give her a kiss. a really long kiss"

"ooookay lover boy. let me help you out. i'll list out things that she likes then you can say what you can connect with her on" mina got up and started walking back and forth in her room. she started listing everything that you loved "those cute farming games, crochet, watching chick-flicks.."

kirishima snorted as she said the last one.

"what is a chick-flick?"

"it's like a movie that is made quote unquote 'for women' but everybody should watch them cause they're freaking amazing"

he thought for a good moment. watching movies seemed to be the easiest (and quickest) thing to learn about.

"okay, i'll talk to her about these flicks"

"even better" mina sat next to him with a smile "every friday night when the class goes to those weekly karaoke nights, she stays home and watches them in the common room. she calls it her 'recharging time'"

kirishima nodded with a smile.

"looks like i'm clearing my plans for friday"

He went to say something but stopped hearing the disgruntled moans coming from the screen.

"y/n! what the hell are we watching?"

"that's not fair! i told you that the beginning was a lot!"

the two of you made light conversation throughout the movie. him asking questions, and you asking if he liked it so far. by the end, the two of you were in a fit of giggles as the credits rolled.

"see? i told you that it was a good movie!" you moved to face him fully.

"ok, that was pretty funny. the real question is though, are all chickflicks this good?"

"uhh yeah!" you squinted your eyes at him curiously before putting your hand out "what about this. you come back for the next couple of fridays and i'll show you just how good they can be"

kirishima looked down at your hand with a wide grin. he took it in his giving it a shake “deal” you both let the handshake linger for a couple seconds longer before hearing the door.

letting go of his hand you smiled seeing iida and mina come through the door “hey! we decided to come home early. everything okay?” she asked raising her eyebrows subtly at kiri. he gave her a smile and nodded over at the television.

“everything’s fine. we’re just watchin’ a movie”

taglist! @sagejin @aejabba

let me know if you want to be added!

[finelinefae]

Bestie I literally just read flower and I’m OBSESSED and I can imagine y/n trying to turn tattooh into a swiftie whilst he tries to explain the rap beef to y/n 😭

no bc this was such a good and unique idea i had to write a little something for it !!

wordcount: 1.3k

. . .

“Okay, so what was it again?” Y/N asked, a dip between her brows as she fastened the bow on a bouquet of flowers she was completing for a baby shower they had been invited to next weekend. 

“So Kendrick-”

“The guy who featured on Bad Blood?” Y/N double-checked. 

Harry chuckles, “I mean he’s also a Pulitzer Prize winner but that too.” She nods, waiting for him to continue, “So he featured on a song with a bunch of other artists basically taking aim at J Cole and Drake-”

“Oh I know him, he posted a picture of him and Taylor on his Instagram that one time two years ago,” Y/N says. 

Harry nods, desperate to finish explaining to her the current online events he had been obsessively keeping track of over the past twenty-four hours, “Right, right. So anyway,” Harry continued to explain the ongoing tension in the world of rap circling the internet with Y/N nodding a long, nothing but confusion on her face. 

Amongst many things, Y/N and Harry’s music tastes were polar opposites. Whilst Y/N loved pop - Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo - Harry tended to lean more towards alternate music, genres like rap and grunge or anything before the 2000’s. He loved rock bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. On their first New Year’s Eve together, they’d spent the entire night at a karaoke bar in the city, four Shania Twain sons deep by the time the clock hit midnight. 

Although they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their music tastes, they loved talking to each other about what they were listening to. They would share their weekly Spotify stats over dinner at the end of each week and make playlists for each other to listen to whenever they were taking the train somewhere. 

As Harry finished explaining, Y/N picked up the bouquet and carried it over to where he was sitting, placing it on the table in front of him. 

Even as he was speaking, Harry automatically reached out to slide an arm around her waist beneath her fuzzy, pink cardigan rubbing circles with his thumb over the exposed bit of skin on her hip. 

“That sounds… really complicated, H.” Y/N sighed, “I’d hate to get into an argument like that.”

Harry smiled at how adorable she looked with pouty lips and concern on her face, “Lucky for you flower, y’ much too difficult to get into any kind of argument with.” 

Harry and Y/N rarely had major arguments. Typically, their disagreements were over minor or unimportant matters, often ending with Harry showering her with kisses as an apology or Y/N clinging to him until he forgave her.

“And he wants Drake to die?” Y/N gasps, “That’s awful.”

Harry nods, watching her hands carefully move around the flowers in the bouquet to get them in the perfect place. “Hmm, ‘s not the nicest thing to say to a person,”

Y/N sighed, sitting on his thigh when her legs got too tired from standing. His lips puckered against the base of her exposed neck from where she had tied her curls up with a scrunchie. He inhaled the floral perfume he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She was obsessed with it, dousing herself in it every morning and before she went to bed.

“Have you listened to Taylor’s new album by the way?” Y/N wondered, turning to hook her leg over his other thigh so she was straddling him. She was pressed between him and the worktop, her arms moving around his neck and fingers fiddling with the curly baby hairs by his neck. 

Harry winced, “Ummm…”

“Harry,” Y/N huffed, “You said you would listen to it so I could talk you through it track by track.” 

“I know! I’m getting to it, y’know I’ve jus’ been busy this week.” Harry stated, which was true. It had been the school holidays and a lot more customers had visited both their shops than usual. 

“The album came out weeks ago,” Y/N said, pushing herself off of him to start putting everything away for tomorrow. 

Before she could take one step, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, “I will, baby - promise, I’ll get to it and then y’ can talk for as long as y’ want all about it. Y’ can even put your pj’s on and show me y’ little dance y’ used to do when I heard y’ havin’ y’ little solo parties before we met,” He smirked against her neck. 

Y/N blushed, clearing her throat and moving away. Her eyes narrowed, “You better.” She walked back to the front desk, “And they weren’t solo parties! Marsh was there too,” She said, referring to her little cat. 

. . .

During her lunch break, Y/N reached for her bag to eat the pasta salad Harry had prepared for her that morning before they left for work. When she unzipped the bag, she found his Star Wars lunchbox inside instead of her own.

She slid off her seat and walked straight to his tattoo shop next door, knowing he had probably mixed up their lunches and ended up with her Cinnamoroll one.

She pushed the door open, expecting to hear the strums of an electric guitar or the low grovel of an indie rock band playing over the Bluetooth speakers. But instead, she was shocked to hear the voice of her favourite singer. 

Her heart soared even before she saw him as she walked past the front desk. "Hey Mike, what's with the music?" She asked as if she didn’t know already.

“Harry insisted he put it on this morning. You have to go in there and tell him it’s killing the vibe.” Mike grumbled, taking a puff of the vape in his hand. 

Y/N smiled, “I quite like it.”

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes. 

Y/N walked through to the back rooms where she heard the steady sounds of a tattoo gun. Her eyes found Harry, deeply focused on the design he was tattooing on someone’s wrist. 

Y/N stood to one side and waited patiently, “Okay that’s all done,” Harry clicked his tongue, pushing his chair away and wrapping up the tattoo for the customer. 

After the customer had left, she stepped into the room, “Hi Harry,” She beamed, floating over to him. He looked so cute and cuddly today, wearing a grey sweatshirt and black trousers with his usual Doc Martens and a navy-coloured beanie to cover his curls. 

A smile carved onto Harry’s face, “Hi flower,” He removed his gloves and met her halfway, pulling her into a hug and kissing her softly. 

“Missed you,” She murmured against his lips. 

“Miss you always, flower.” He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, “Thought I wasn’t meeting y’ ‘til later?”

“Oh,” She pulled out the lunchbox and handed it to him, “I think we got our lunches mixed up,” 

Harry furrowed his brows, grabbing the plastic bag with his lunch inside only to find her pink lunchbox instead. He chuckles, “Ah, must have been the early morning getting to me.”

“S okay,” Y/N grins, “I like your music choice by the way.”

Harry smirked, “Promised a girl something,”

“Oh really?” Y/N’s grin deepened, “Well I’m sure she’ll be very happy you kept your promise.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all morning, getting to hear her talk non-stop later about her favourite songs.” He says, her arms sliding up his torso to meet at the back of his back. 

She stood on her toes, his head dropping and their noses brushing together, “All morning?” 

“All the time,” He breathes, “Can’t seem to stop thinking about her since I met her.”

“Hmm, well she’s a very lucky girl.” Y/N murmurs.

His lips met hers, the low light above shining down on them as the Tortured Poets Department came to an end and ‘Lover’ played on shuffle over the speakers of his tattoo parlour. 

[iliketangerines]

hey tang <3 been thinking about what it would be like to be double teamed by johnny and kung lao...i feel like they'd talk you through it, oscillating between degradation and praise - all filthy, of course, between calling you a slut and saying you're such a good girl for them

any thoughts on this?

-🍈

between them

a/n: oh BOY do i have thoughts

pairing: johnny cage x afab!reader x kung lao

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), chest play, porn without plot

you stare at yourself in the mirror, tugging at the edges of the bunny costume you had bought for Halloween, and you adjust the ears on top one more time before stepping out of the bedroom

coming down the stairs, you spot Kenshi sitting on the couch wearing something that Johnny had bought for him, a rather elaborate samurai costume accurate to history

Sento is drawn across his lap, inconspicuous for today only, and he turns his head in the direction of your padding footsteps and greets you

on the coffee table in front of him sits multiple bottles of alcohol meant for pre-gaming, and it looks like Kenshi has been nursing a bottle of sake

you greet him and sit down on the sofa across from him, drawing your feet to curl in on the couch, and the two of you start a light conversation while waiting for the others to get ready and have a few shots together

Johnny had invited all four of you for a get together and Halloween just happened to occur at the same time, which had led him to planning out on going out partying for the night

despite his age, he really did act like a college student sometimes, and you sigh and stare at the stairs, looking at Raiden coming down the stairs

he’s dressed as Zeus, with the wrap and fake beard and everything, and if you squint, you can see the amulet hidden underneath the layers of the robes

sheepishly waving at the two of you, he adjusts the robe around him and sits next to Kenshi and says that the other two should be ready soon

a comfortable buzz sits in your head as you nurse your drink and watch Raiden down shot after shot of baijiu, feeling a bit nervous about the whole deal and trying to calm his nerves down with some alcohol

the minutes pass as you and Raiden and Kenshi converse with each other, laughing and catching up while sipping on their drinks, and you look at the clock on the wall and grit your teeth at how off schedule you are

both Kenshi and Raiden are starting to get more rowdy, and Raiden had managed to finagle with the complicated remote control enough to put on karaoke on the tv

they both were loud, and with the dying buzz of the alcohol and irritation with how off schedule you all are, you say that you’re going to check on Kung Lao and Johnny

you’re not sure if either of them heard you, but you’re sure that they’ll keep each other entertained, especially as Raiden starts singing an old Chinese song and Kenshi attempts to caterwaul with the champion

stepping up the stairs, you pad down the hallways, the sound of steps softened by the tights you were wearing, and you knock on Johnny’s door and call for their names

there’s no response, and you try knocking one more time, saying that you were going to come in if they weren’t going to answer the door

one more time, there’s no answer from either of them, so you grab onto the doorknob and open up the door

you nearly slam the door back shut when you find both of them them half-naked on the bed, grunting into each other’s mouths with Johnny’s hand wrapped around both of their cocks

Johnny glances over at the light streaming from the door, and he pulls away from Kung Lao’s mouth, drawing an irritated groan from the monk who also turns his head to see the commotion

you stand motionless at the door, and suddenly the bunny playboy suit you’re wearing feels much too hot and tight on you

the actor stares at you, chest heaving up and down for a moment, and then he grins at you, telling you to come on over and join in on their fun

Kung Lao smirks at you as well, telling you that they’d love to see your costume up close, and he tilts his head at you and then ruts his hips forward, causing his dick to slide against Johnny’s and making the actor moan

still, you stand by the door, hand still on the doorknob, and the sound of Kenshi and Raiden singing downstairs faintly echoes behind you

letting go of the doorknob and stepping into the room, you let the door click close, leaving you only in the faint warm light of the lamp in the room

neither of them move as you walk up to their bed, and Johnny sucks in a breath at the sight of you, holding his free hand out for you to take as you crawl onto the bed

he tells you that you look beautiful and sexy, the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, and Kung Lao hums in agreement, saying that the bunny ears were a cute addition

you glance at their half-dressed state and then the clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor and bedsheets, and you mumble that you’re sure that their costumes looked just as good

both of them are now directly on the bed in front of you, cocks still leaking pre-cum with Johnny’s hand wrapped tightly around, and the actor finally lets go, earning a displeased sound from the monk

it’s rectified however as Johnny pulls you in by your waist and sandwiches you between the both of them, your chest flush with Kung Lao’s and the small bunny tail pressing into Johnny’s stomach

he lets out a surprised sound and looks at the small tail, pulling at it and saying that you were really so cute, just a little bunny for them

tilting his head down, he gives you a shit-eating grin and brings his lips down to whisper in your ear asking if you fucked like one too, and you gasp and go to turn your head to glare at him

before you can retort, Kung Lao grabs onto your waist and pulls you in close, pressing his lips to yours and giving you a searing kiss

every single firework in your body lights up, and your hands fly up to his shoulders to grip onto them for stability as you moan into his mouth

Johnny leaves open-mouth kisses on the side of your neck, enjoying how your body grinds back into his body and onto his cock, and he groans as he settles his hands onto your hips

his fingers dig into the flesh, and he brings you back to grind even further up against him

you don’t care however, not when Kung Lao was such a good kisser, his hands on your waist and his lips soft and inviting as he groans into your mouth

his cock presses into your stomach, but he doesn’t rush you, only kissing you and taking his time, occasionally squeezing your waist to draw a small squeak out of you

you’re not in any rush to do anything either, just letting the two of them move you however they want as your mind slowly fills with the haze of only them

finally, Johnny’s hand comes up to your upper back, fiddling with the zipper and then pulling it down slowly, and he pulls back to watch the expanse of your skin slowly reveal itself to him

he lets out a breath as the zipper finally jerks to a stop, and Kung Lao hums and pulls away to catch his breath, resting his forehead against yours and tugging at the edges of your suit to pull it down

the monk blinks at the sight of your chest revealing itself, almost like there were stars in his eyes, and he looks practically drunk off the sight of your skin

his hands move to cup your chest, brushing his thumb over the sensitive nipples, and he mumbles out that you’re absolutely gorgeous

you flush at the compliment and bite your lip, and Johnny hums and murmurs into your ear that you’re like sex on legs

as you turn your head to the side to hiss at him, he pushes his lips onto yours and kisses you this time, letting Kung Lao play with your chest

the monk kneads at the flesh and then pinches at your nipples, smiling when you jump in your spot and let out pitiful whines into Johnny’s mouth

the actor smirks every time you do, and he brings down the rest of your outfit, pulling down your tights at the same time to about mid thigh

he parts from your lips and tells you to take off the rest of it, and you practically fall over as you manage to shuck off the rest of the outfit

but then they’re back on you in a fraction of a second, Johnny kissing you and Kung Lao squeezing and teasing your chest

one of the actor’s hands rests on your hip while the other taps at the inside of your thighs, and you shuffle on your knees to spread your legs just a little bit wider

Kung Lao mumbles out that you’re so obedient for them, so good for them, and Johnny pulls away to say that that’s what a good bunny does, listen

you don’t even care about the comment, not when one of his thick finger circles around your clit and then presses into the needy bud, sending pleasure spreading through you

his experience clearly shows, circling your clit and rubbing firm circles without ever going too fast, just giving you pleasure and nothing else and nothing more

it curls through you, spreading through every limb and into your mind, turning you into limp putty in their hands as you melt into Johnny’s lips

Kung Lao coos at you, saying that you’re so pretty like this, all compliant and needy underneath their fingertips, and Johnny parts from your lips

you’re glassy-eyed, and your lips are swollen from how kisses that they’ve both given you

Johnny smirks at you, raising his hands from your hip and grabbing onto your chin to face Kung Lao, and he whispers low into your ear that you’re such a desperate sight

his fingers on your clit quicken, and you whine, hips bucking forward and grinding down into the rough pads of his fingers, trying to chase your release

he lets you, telling you to keep your eyes on Kung Lao, to show him just how needy you are, and a whine escapes you, struggling to keep your eyelids open to listen to orders

your pleasure curls in you, climbing up your spine and reaching down through every limp and into every groove and of your mind

it’s all-consuming and overwhelming and delicious, two sets of hands on you squeezing and kneading at every bit of your flesh, Johnny’s small kisses to your neck, Kung Lao’s eyes focused solely on you, as if you were the only star shining in the world and he was the galaxy surrounding it

Johnny breathes out for you to let go for him, and you keen loudly, hips jerking and hands squeezing on tightly to Kung Lao’s shoulders as your orgasm rushes through you

it leaves you breathless, as if you’ve just flown into space and now you float among the stars, and you grind your hips down to ride out your high on Johnny’s fingers

as you come back to your senses, head only supported by the grip Johnny has on your chin, he slows down his fingers and lets you flop back against his chest

the actor hums and moves you like a boneless doll, dragging you to the edge of the bed and setting you onto his lap and hooking your knees over his

Kung Lao moves to the floor, kneeling down in front of you and kissing at the soft expanse of the inside of your thighs from your knee to the apex

he looks ready to worship you, as if he would kiss every inch of your skin and listen to your every command, and he whispers that you look ethereal for them

you blink down blearily at him, and Johnny says to be good for the both of them and let them ravage you tonight

it draws a whine out of you, and your mind goes blank as Kung Lao places the flat on his tongue against your clit and licks up the length of it

none of you manage to leave the house

[sofiaruelle]

Oh wow, I was not expecting a whole drawing of them trying the dance and falling around. It's very beautifully done, I rmmbr just staring in awe for a while at first 🩵

I have another odd question about the she trio/ass gang, which u don't have to draw

Cause I saw a little video of Harvey going hard; dancing to MiseryxCPR(xReese's Puffs) and it had me laughing for a long while, and I wondered who would be the ones singing the song if say the stardrop saloon had some kind of karaoke night

My head tells me both Sam and Abagail would end up doing Reeses's puffs, but that would leave one of the other songs without a host :/

Harvey would probably end up saying stuff about how cpr doesn't require mouth-to-mouth anymore or smthn, and Shane probably worried Marnie would walk in-or just, too drunk off his ass having fun to care 🤔

nah man i just have to draw them. and oh look I even have another essay under readmore! 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

✨Also my commissions are open! ✨ if anyone is interested! :D< please reblog/share the og comm sheet ,if you can! it would help me a lot thank you!!!

Honestly i can imagine them all just being pissed drunk before attempting to sing the song😂. i know fersure the SHE trio would require more liquid courage for it (heck even to join/start a kareoke sesh!)

Shane gives of major Kareoke Tito (uncle) vibes~. Yknow that one tito who specifically sings “My Way” by Frank Sinatra and has a bunch of classic rock songs under his belt. He’s not good at singing perse but he can at least carry a tune. He and Sebastian would totally connect with singing Misery. but like Shane vaguely knows the song (he’s heard it on radio a bajillion times but he doesnt know the name of the song so its not quite on his playlists) so he when he’s super sloshed and can barely read the screen, he tries to sing it from memory and misses a couple of the words. but hey! at least he knows the chorus and is in tune.

Meanwhile Sebastian has Misery “secretly” on his go to playlist. He doesnt admit it (the songs is too main stream and overplayed but he stumbled upon a vocaloid cover and rest is history.) He definitely always chooses the song every kareoke sesh (although not his first choice) and he’s passionate about it even has a little performance too(lots of head bangs, fist pumps and that classic 2000s disney knees bent together, feet wide apart moment)! For his duet with shane he’s the first to shed a lil tear and that gets shane going and they cry through most of the song in their own lil misery world ignoring the chaos around them.

Sam is a fucking menace for singing CPR and I do agree He and Abigail would go off on Reese’s Puff BUT i can definitely imagine being commited to singing CPR (we all know he’d awkwardly twerk). Especially if it was to troll on Harvey who probably thought it was a wholesome song about doing CPR at a specific BPM. 😂

Harvey good lird poor harvey! He’s probably the most sober out of everyone. It doesnt help that he’s no light weight + lowkey becomes designated baby sitter everytime (he’s soooooooo going charge them extra in the morning if they come stumbling into his clinic asking for some hangover cure). He was so excited about adding a new song to CPR tempo list he was gonna teach at the nex first aid classes!! Who would have thought that a singer with a cute wholesome name like Cupcakke was just so… sooooo SCANDALOUS!!! He should have known Sam was up to something the moment he grabbed him by the shoulder!!! “This is medical malpractice, Samson!!!” He spends the whole trying to sush Sam who’s having so much fun laughing at Harvey’s reaction 😂

Abigal. F e r a l.

Help! Elliot has fallen over! He honestly just has a mild peanut allergy but he has been drinking and hooo boi. thats not good. thank goodness Harvey is sobered up (with the help of Sam ofc) and has an epipen on hand! Catch Leah cackling from her seat by the bar before assisting Harvey.

[agroteraa]

Watermelon Sugar

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: Just a slice of hot summer in Saltburn.

Actaeon series spin-off, taking place between Artemis and The Wrath of the Stag.

Warnings: smut, fingering, handjob, finger sucking.

Word Count: 3,2K

Almost two weeks had passed after the karaoke night events. It was a sultry August noon, and you were reading "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" by the pool. You were lying on your stomach on a lounger, dangling your feet in the air and eating triangularly sliced pieces of watermelon. Time seemed to freeze and melt in this heat, and at that moment it felt like that summer would never end. That would be perfect.

Oliver sauntered over to the pool, topless, his T-shirt on his shoulders. There you were.

You were so engrossed in reading that you didn't hear him approach. Besides, he came unnoticed. As always.

Your legs swung back and forth in the air alternately exposing your buttocks, slightly peeking out of your colorful swimsuit.

Oliver swallowed involuntarily. He leaned against the nearest wall, clutching the ends of his blue T-shirt tightly in his hands. He loved every inch of your body, but he was already beginning to realize that your ass was especially driving him crazy. He was a booty man and never missed a chance to put his hand on top, squeeze or kiss it. Or better to do everything at once. And sometimes even give it a little slap. He was thinking more and more often that maybe he should try to go a little bit further with that and see your reaction. At that thought, he shifted against the warm rough bricks of the wall, tugging the ends of his cloth tighter.

God, if only he could have his way with you just right there, by the pool. Sit down next to you, give you a little massage, and then... take you as he wished it and as you wished it too. On a lounger, by the pool, in the water, or better yet, all in turn. And so that all the inhabitants of Saltburn, its guests and servants could hear how much pleasure Oliver was bringing you. But alas, this was not his home. At least for now, he had not yet fully decided on this issue for himself.

His body began aching numbly, and, unable to just stand and think all these thoughts anymore, Oliver finally decided to declare his presence.

"Hey, Y/N, do you mind if I lie down next to you?"

"Oliver... Didn't hear you coming!" you abruptly turned over on the sunbed, with a piece of watermelon in one hand and a book in the other. Watermelon juice began to flow slightly down your hand, you put a piece of watermelon on a plate, quickly licking the remaining juice from your hand and wiping against your leg. Oliver carefully followed all these movements with the silent gaze. You lifted your sunglasses, greeting him with warmth in your eyes. Oliver couldn't help but smile back.

"I think I left my book here yesterday," Quick went to the far little table to get his belonging, and then laid down on the next lounger from you.

"Oh, you’ve started a new one?"

"Yeah," he confirmed absent-mindedly, opening it and searching for the place where he had left off the previous time. It seemed that Oliver was not just reading books, but devouring them for lunch.

"Huh, I'm still reading Harry Potter..." your voice became a little sad and thoughtful. Of course, you also read a lot of things during your studies, but still not all of them from the list, and during the summer break you preferred to distract yourself with something lighter, almost childish even. While Oliver read one big serious book after another, also he had recently read Harry Potter in less than a week to be aware of what you were all constantly talking about, discussing the plot, "How you’re doing that?"

"Well, you take the book, open it... and then you start to look at the lines of letters that add up to meaningful words and sentences," Oliver explained in a serious tone, barely hiding his smile.

You snickered back, "Should’ve known that sooner!"

He chuckled, and you both went deep into reading your stuff. After a couple of minutes, your smile faded again.

"What is it, Y/N?" it seemed that nothing could be hidden from Oliver. You decided to tell him as it was, choosing the words and overcoming some embarrassment, "I just... I don't know. You read so much, and in general, you’ve achieved everything yourself at Oxford, including entering it. Well, of course, me too... Kinda... But still, it seems that you do more and work harder than I do. Even the way you read in your free time. I've been reading Harry Potter for the second month now. Of course, I'm just enjoying it, stretching the pleasure, it's also important, you know... But anyway, I'm not like you, I wish I could be you in certain way..."

Oliver listened to your mumbling until his eyebrows began to rise and warm smile appeared on his face.

"Y/N. You're not like me, and that's why I like you," Oliver said tenderly.

"And you don't even know how much," he added mentally. You could think that he would judge by your close communication over the past couple of weeks, or at least since the beginning of the summer, but he has already studied you very well since your meeting at Oxford. You were kind, you were kind to him, especially when you comforted him the day he told Felix and you about his family and the whole "father situation". Yes, not at all as interested as you were now, but it was only a matter of time, Oliver had been hoping for this from the very beginning. Yes, you were much kinder than him. Basically, this reason alone possibly could have been enough, but he did not deny himself the pleasure of mentally going over the rest of your qualities, which were different from his own.

You were open and generous, you were similar to Felix here, but unlike him, you were more modest and even a bit shy. And, of course, you were smart, although sometimes very naive. But for Oliver, it wasn't a flaw, he adored your naivety and innocence.

That trick with Felix's towels and your little lie about the malfunction of the second bathroom, he totally forgave and recorded it as a childish prank. He decided that it even amused and touched him, the way you childishly decided to take the initiative and allegedly outwit Quick.

He felt like a tiger that a little kitten had tried to hunt. The tiger that laid calmly next to the kitten and smiled lazily, waving his tail, which the little hunter was trying to catch. Oliver smiled lazily at the thought himself and decided that someday he even wouldn't mind if you tried to repeat such an innocent prank. And he would think about what he would do to you after that.

You were never capable of even a small part of what he was willing to do and had done in life to achieve his goals, to the extent that you would never have thought of such a thing. That was also why he had chosen you. You didn't have to be power hungry like him. On the contrary, it would be more than enough for him if you were hungry only for your rather harmless aspirations and, of course, for Oliver himself.

You were quite a complete and content person on your own, and this was very attractive to the many-faced Oliver, who was still struggling to find a place for himself in this life. But he had found his place beside you and planned to stay there for a long time, ideally, forever.

And of course, he adored the power he had over you, the way you looked at him trustingly and fascinated whenever he told you something. The way you looked away shyly when he gazed at you too intensely at breakfasts or dinners. The way you looked at him with your doe eyes, lying under him in bed, as if bewitched. The way he made you feel. Moan. Dig your fingers and nails deeper into his skin. Throw your head back with pleasure. Say his name. And generally, the fact that his name was coming out from your lips. Wheresoever. All the time.

And if only you knew what kind of power you have over him yourself. It seemed that even Oliver himself sometimes did not fully comprehend this, but he definitely felt it on a subconscious, instinctive level. He felt boundless joy, excitement and pride that the object of his adoration finally adored him. If there was a happiness, which Oliver sometimes looked for confirmation of in the philosophical books that he read, then it definitely laid in this for him.

He wanted a lot from you, it was true, but in return he was ready to throw the whole world at your feet and even more.

You were smiling sheepishly, still processing his words. The sunglasses on your face had slipped down slightly, revealing your equally embarrassed, but gentle and expressive gaze to him. He reached out to you, leaning on your lounger with one hand, and gently kissed you on the lips. The book in your hands trembled a little.

"It seems it’s getting too hot in here. I'm going to take a dip," Quick winked at you, got up from his sunbed and walked to the edge of the pool. Spreading his shoulder blades on his broad, muscular back, he stood on tiptoe a little and made a rather graceful leap into the water. To be honest, for a while you forgot about the adventures of young wizards, all your thoughts were now occupied by Oliver and how he swam in the water, making wide strokes with his fit arms. You even thought about joining in, but he came out of the water pretty quickly and flopped down on his lounger with his stomach down, exhaling contentedly.

You looked at him through your glasses. Drops of water trickled down his body that was heating up, repeating the contour of his every lean muscle, his dark slightly curly hair turned into wet, completely black strands. Then he turned over, exposing his face, glistening from the water, to the hot sun. He had just cooled off in the pool, but he looked damn hot. He was like an animated marble statue basking in the August sun on a lounger next to you. You inhaled the warm sticky air sharply but quietly, deciding to focus on reading. Oliver chuckled faintly, without opening his eyes. Surely, he couldn't know how you stared at him through your black sunglasses. Or could he? You weren't sure anymore.

Finally, really deep into reading, you took another piece of watermelon and began to eat it with appetite. The watermelon was juicy, so it started running down your chin and then down the hand that was holding it. You put down the book and reached for a napkin, when suddenly you heard a slightly hoarse "Let me." Looking in surprise to the side, you found that Oliver was shamelessly examining you, lying on his side, and, apparently, for some time. His unblinking gaze and slightly parted lips turned something in your stomach. His chest rose and fell noticeably from his rather heavy breathing.

He gently took your hand by the wrist and then slowly ran his tongue over it, climbing up the palm and licking the watermelon juice from it. A familiar knot started to form in your stomach. Oliver took turns taking your fingers into his mouth. Thumb. His lips were very tender. He pulled your completely clean finger out of his mouth with a smacking sound. Index finger. His lips were soft but at the same time firm. He started looking you straight in the eye.

Middle finger. You felt his soft, hot tongue against your skin. Ring finger. God, he started to lick and suck your fingers lightly at the same time. Pinkie. You were already burning down there, as you shifted your gaze from to the place where your fingers met Oliver's caressing mouth, to his piercing blue eyes, which looked at you from under their black eyelashes, almost without blinking.

He had never done this before, but now you didn't understand how you had lived without that feeling all this time. You wanted to eat a watermelon sloppily every day so that he would do this. Seeing how much you liked it, how you started fidgeting your legs on the sunbed, he once again ran his lips over your middle and index fingers, sucking them both at the same time. You let out a soft moan. Oliver smiled contentedly, closing his eyes and enjoying the process. You opened your lips in a silent exhale, looking at the guy, unable to tear yourself away from this sight. There was already a fire raging in the pit of your stomach and below.

Taking your fingers out of his mouth, he briefly kissed your palm, and then threw one of his hands over your body, leaning on your lounger. It made an surprised squeak at the presence of a guest. His heated by the sun metal chain hung, almost touching your lips. You even had the thought of taking it in your mouth. You gulped.

"Do you know, Y/N, how sweet you are? And right now, literally," Oliver put his face close to your chin and licked off the remnants of watermelon juice. Moving his tongue higher, he licked the contour of your lips. You could barely lie still, but at the same time you seemed frozen by everything that was happening now. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, letting out a soft groan. The sweetness of the watermelon and your tongues mixed in your mouth, making your head spin. His wet and sticky lips caressed your lips, making some breaths and moans. He almost completely rolled over with his body on your lounger. The hotness of the sun and Oliver's hotness almost drove you to sunstroke. You could feel the firmness of his body and the way his swim trunks were getting tighter by the second. It was almost unbearable.

You broke off the kiss while recovering your breath. Oliver was looking at you, unsure of what to do next. More precisely, he knew exactly what he wanted, but he couldn't afford it right now, so his brain was quickly calculating all possible options.

"Shall we go for a dip together?" you nodded affirmatively at his suggestion. Getting up from the sunbed, he took you by both hands and led you to the edge of the pool.

"Together" means "to the very end," he smirked, and without letting go of your hands, he took a step back, plunging into the pool. You squeaked as you flew after him. In the water, Oliver's strong arms caught you and spun you around a little right under the water. You let out a laugh, releasing a few bubbles instead of "ha-ha."

Then you surfaced, and Quick pinned you between his muscular arms at the edge of the pool. There you both reached the bottom with your feet there, and you were pressed closer to the cool wall of the pool. It was a pleasant contrast between this and Oliver's body, which was even somehow hotter in the water.

"And what I am to do with you? With you, lying in your swimsuit in the sun, enjoying yourself so much and eating watermelon so seductively all the damn day. It's impossible to look at it and just put up with it," Oliver said, kissing you again passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs began to wrap around his pelvis. You felt his boner with your crotch even in the water. He hissed faintly. You involuntarily began to rub and cling to him even more, feeling the literal fire under the water down there.

"Don't tempt me any more," he whispered against your lips, "Or else..."

One of his hands went deeper under the water, his fingers parted the fabric of your bikini to the side. Soon you felt his fingers inside you. The feeling in the water was slightly unusual, but you liked it. Oliver was slowly caressing you, and you tilted your head back a bit, unable to figure out where the wetness of the pool ended and your own begun. Oliver was moaning softly near your ear, and you could barely contain your loud moans. His fingers worked so well inside you that it felt like the entire pool was filled exclusively with your moisture.

You snuggled closer to the guy, and he started kissing your neck, which made your body cover in goosebumps. Then he slipped his other hand into your swimsuit and squeezed one breast. You let out a groan. Oliver added another finger, your legs curled around him, you wanted to moan at the top of your voice, but you were afraid that someone might come up at any moment and see what you two were doing here. The mixture of fear of being caught and wild excitement made brought you to the peak much faster than you expected.

"Is my girl done much faster today?" Oliver asked innocently, stroking your waist, "Admit it, it’s rather turning on. The probability of being caught. You feel it too, don't you? Oh, yes, you do understand me..."

Oliver slightly narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. He really liked the fact that you were different, but he was even more pleased with the moments where your morality and your desires sometimes converged at the same one ambiguous point.

He grinned contentedly when you, nodding slightly and biting your lip, a little timidly reached for his swim trunks with your hands. He exhaled sharply when you felt his bump and ran your soft hand up and down his hard cock several times. The movements of your hand in the water felt like in a slow motion. Oliver half-closed his eyes, holding onto the sides of the pool, and hissed, "Yes, my sweet Y/N, that's it, don't stop… Wait."

He recoiled a little from you, you involuntarily turned around, following his frowning gaze. Felix. He was walking to the pool in sunglasses, wearing a yellow shirt and swimming trunks, carrying a towel and some drink in a can. You laughed awkwardly and embarrassedly while Oliver was rather tense and very displeased. But he forced himself to distract himself, for your sake and for Felix too.

"Hi guys! How long have you been... Hey-y, did I interrupt something?" Catton Jr. asked rather jokingly, seeing you laughing in the pool, but he still tensed a little from the proximity of your distance.

"No, we just came in, join us!" Oliver shouted cheerfully, dispelling the guy's suspicions. At least, most of them.

While Felix was undressing and putting his things on his lounger, you looked pointedly at Oliver and sighed quietly, pursing your lips. Quick blinked slowly in response and nodded slightly, assuring you that way that your fun would definitely continue soon, and no one would dare to interrupt you next time.

But still, Oliver thought to himself, he would have to ponder again all the options for how to make sure that you wouldn't be disturbed inside and outside this house, not only for the next time, but preferably never again.

[hoonigiris]

— [12:17AM]

pairing:  p. jongseong x gn!reader // content: college au, mentions of alcohol consumption // lowercase intended // wc: 781

a/n: just your average best friends with unconfessed feelings au... this time in drabble form! this is also my first fic on this acc so i hope you enjoy! please give feedback if you liked it, it would mean the world ♡ ps. happy comeback day!

the night air sits a little chilly on jay's skin, his t-shirt and jeans not doing much to keep the warmth on an september night. if he looked on the bright side, jay supposes it's a good thing the alcohol comfortably buzzing in his system lets the cold turn into more of a cool breeze, but on the other hand...

"jay, i think the world stopped spinning!"

jay sighs, turning his head to you. you turn back to him, eyes shining bright as you lean your head on the swing chain. his jacket runs a little too big on you, the ends of the sleeves covering your palms as you hold onto the swing. "do you wanna go for round 2?"

"we have to go home," he chides, exasperated.

"oh relax," you wave off, pushing up the sleeve to take a good look at your empty wrist. "it's only um... 11:00! live a little!"

jay whips his phone out, the time on the lockscreen glaring at full brightness. "it's midnight."

you pout, kicking the bark beneath your feet sullenly. your right heel comes flying off, landing somewhere between the park bench and the see-saw. "lame..."

jay gives you a flat look, making a mental note to pick up your shoe before you leave the park. “you barely made it out of the karaoke bar in one piece, and you want to go for a round 2?”

“well i’m here, aren’t i? perfectly fine and normal!”

“really? what street are we on.”

"you know i'm bad with directions!"

he resists the urge to run a hand down his face. the only reason jay even agreed to coming to the college mixer with you was because he knew you wouldn't fare well if left on your own. the last time you went out drinking, you threw up in the bushes a couple feet behind the street vendor, and the time before that, you'd drunk-dialed him at 3:00AM in tears, and when he managed to get out of the house wearing mismatching flip-flops ready to find you, your friends had managed to grab the phone from you and tell him that you were only crying over a stray cat that wouldn't bother to give you the time of day.

and of course, he was there for you both times, and all the times before that, which only meant that he needed to be there for you this time too. (jay tries not to think about the implications of that statement for too long, otherwise he'll start feeling as stupid as heeseung's all-seeing looks tell him he is.)

you narrow your eyes, waggling your finger at him. "so are you gonna tell me about it?"

"about what?"

"the mixer!" you exclaim. "i saw minjeong making googly-eyes at you the whole time. did you get her number?"

jay pauses. "who?"

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated. "um, kim minjeong? literally every guy in our year would pay to get her to even look at them for five seconds, and she was looking at you all night. for free!"

frowning, jay tilts his head. “doesn’t ring a bell.”

you lean back on the swing, and jay readies himself in case you lose balance and fall backwards. "you're so hopeless, jay. i keep inviting you to these things cause everyone keeps calling you painfully single, but we end up having this conversation every time. isn't there anyone you like?"

yeah, he bites his tongue. you.

he could say it. he could say it right now. maybe if he said it, then it would be like ripping off a bandaid. quick—not quite painless, but it had to be better than existing in this weird limbo where he's the first one you call when you're drunk and you're the first person he thinks of telling when anything good in his life happens. if he said it, no matter the result, at least he wouldn't have to keep it a secret anymore. at least you would know.

but instead, jay says:

"it's late. we need to go back."

there's a brief pause, one where you shift in your swingseat and the cold metal presses against the skin of his palms as he wrestles with the weight of everything he's squashed down inside him, yet again.

“…can we at least get fishcakes on our way home?" you ask, and you at least have the decency to sound a little sheepish about it.

your shoulder moves slightly, jacket slipping off your shoulder. jay sighs, walking over to adjusting it, before zipping it up fully. it would only get colder through the night. he really was an idiot.

"yeah. the usual?"

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge

The reader has a bit too much to drink and ends up making a deal she might regret...

Originally, it had started out as a good bit of fun. 

The boys had just returned from a mission, broken down and bone tired but glad it was over. It was one of the more rough ones, where they lost more friends than anyone would have liked, but a success was a success. 

To celebrate they went down to a nearby karaoke bar, and somehow they convinced you to come out with them, even though your specific skill set hadn’t been required on the mission. 

You turned them down multiple times, stating that it was your self care night (to which they responded that having fun is self care) but really, who were you to deny the four men anything?

Which is how you found yourself standing on a stage screaming the lyrics to “Sexy” from mean girls. 

Quite honestly, you were doing a pretty damn good job, which was evident by the encouraging screams of both military personnel and civilians alike. the entire bar seemed to thrum with life as you sung and dance, and the task force just watched in awe. 

maybe you had had a bit too much to drink. 

Finally, after the song was over (and after a standing ovation) you stumbled back to the corner booth, laughing at the boy’s bewildered expressions. 

“What, never heard me sing?” You asked, sliding into the booth with only a smidge less grace than you usually possessed. 

“Well lass, i wasn’t under the impression you could sing,” Johnny fired back, smiling wildly. “was fuckin amazin’ kid!”

You smiled at him and ducked your head in a mock bow. “I took theaters in high school, it’s nothing special.” 

All four heads snapped to you so quickly one of them had to have gotten whiplash. 

“You. Took theater?” Price said, fixing you with a disbelieved look. 

“Yes, captain. Yes i did.” You lean back in the booth, just now noticing that Ghost has draped his arm over your seat. 

“Now this is gotta see,” Gaz said, laughing to himself. 

“Oh- good luck finding anything. I got rid of all those photos years ago.” They all look at each other, before turning back to you. 

“Is that a challenge?” You hear Ghost’s deep voice rumble, dangerously close to your ear. 

“Yes…” you squeak out, not dairing to move away from him. “Actually, let’s make it just that. Whoever can find more than 10 photos of me before my junior year of high school wins.” 

They all look at each other again, before Johnny speaks up. “Why tha’ year?” 

You just shrug. “Changed schools then, looked like a completely different person.” 

They all nod. “What do we get if we win?” Gaz questioned. 

You took a moment to think it over, pretending to tap on your chin and everything. “I’ll do whatever you want for a day.”

Maybe you did have too much to drink. 

Their eyes practically bug out of their heads, even Ghost looks shocked at the prize. 

“Whatever… we want?” He questions, his eyes still wide. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“Mhm,” You say, nodding. “As long as it’s not a mission day or something, I have to do whatever you tell me to do for twenty-four hours. Kind of like an ‘I cant say no’ day.”

They all not hurriedly, quickly agreeing to the plan. 

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal!” You smile, downing the lasts of your drink. 

(may be a series i have a few ideas for this)

My Masterlist

[inawickedlittletown]

You've Got the Love to See Me Through - 7x06 coda

Read on Ao3

Summary: Tommy's pov of 7x06...or just let this man get some rest.

Words: 4,769

-

“Go home, Kinard. Get some sleep. Remember, you’re on standby tonight.” 

Sleep. Right. Tommy was definitely not going home to get sleep despite how much he might want to. He could have called Evan and made his excuses, but Evan had already texted him twice that week to make sure he was coming to Chimney’s Bachelor party, so Tommy really couldn’t miss it. Not even because his shift had wound up running something like four hours long or because he was on standby. It was part of the job, he’d had longer nights they just usually ended with him passed out on his bed, not driving to a karaoke lounge. Considering it was the night before the wedding, Tommy figured things weren’t going to get out of hand or go too long and he’d get to his bed eventually. 

He headed into the building and had to walk down a long hall until he finally made it to the room Evan had reserved. He saw Eddie first, giving him a high five. Then his eyes landed on Evan. He looked good and seeing Evan took away some of his exhaustion, especially when they hugged and he could smell his cologne. 

Tommy was glad, when he could sit down and get something that resembled rest. He would have preferred it if Evan sat down too, instead they all got to watch him as he paced and glared at anyone that dared to try to go near the sliders. He’d lost count of the number of times that Evan had already tried to call Chimney and kept himself entertained watching Eddie play bartender, when he wasn’t watching Evan. 

Time had ceased to have much meaning for Tommy some three hours back, so he had no idea how much had passed when Hen stood up, her wife following suit. And others started to follow their lead despite how much Evan tried to keep them. 

Of course, that’s when he got the call to go in. So much for getting any sleep.

He could see the disappointment on Evan’s face, and Tommy wished it was different. He wished he could stay behind and maybe convince Evan that they could still have fun, but he was on standby and he wouldn’t be called in without reason. 

“Be safe,” Evan said. 

Tommy held onto that. He felt a little odd, too, because though he’d known it would be different to date a fellow first responder, he still hadn’t really understood, because as disappointed as Evan was at his departure, he also got it. 

He caught up to Hen and Karen, making their way to the exit. 

“You’re leaving too?” Hen asked. 

“Got called in,” Tommy said. 

“Does that mean you’ll miss the wedding?” Karen asked. 

“I’ll try not to. So, Chim really didn’t want this party?” 

Even without looking at her, Tommy could tell that Hen was rolling her eyes. “Buck wore him down. Or, maybe Chimney got tired of saying no and never intended on coming.”

Karen made a noise of agreement. “He’s probably enjoying his hotel room. I don’t blame him.” 

Tommy said his goodbyes and got to his car. In an effort to keep himself awake, he drove to a starbucks on the way to Harbor and downed most of the drink before he arrived. 

Lucy was getting out of her car as he parked and she waited for him. 

“Hey. They called you in too?” She called out to him. 

“Sure did,” Tommy said, and tried to fight a yawn. 

He was in the air within fifteen minutes, flying out solo to drop retardant over the fire. When he landed, he had to wait for the chopper to be filled up again which meant his priority was getting to the coffee maker for more caffeine. He pulled his phone out and took it off airplane mode as he went and watched as several texts landed in his inbox.

Evan: No Chim. How’s work? Stay safe. 

Evan: Partying with people. Still no Chim. 😔

Evan: SHOTS!! 

Evan: Eddi says we gotts toooo song 👨🏻‍🎤🎤

Another text came through as he was fixing his coffee. 

Eddie: yo misssss all tge fun adinkamsc 

Tommy couldn’t help but snort. Oh, they were both going to regret their night. 

He had just enough time to drink his coffee before he was back out in the sky. When he got back to the station, he ran into Lucy. 

“We’re gonna fly out there and help from the ground,” she informed him. “The retardant is helping, but they need more bodies. There’s been a few injuries. This thing is huge.” 

Their captain confirmed as Tommy made it inside. 

He checked his phone on the way to the locker room. 

Evan: wHet lik boo y 

Evan: takhujns par tee to cim 🥳

Eddie: UBEr!1!!!1

Evan: No 🔑 🧑🏻‍🚒🧑🏻‍🚒

Tommy was far too tired and busy to actually decipher what Evan could mean. 

It was rare for him to have to use his turnout gear. He was a pilot, his skills were best used in the sky, but sometimes it was about going where they were needed. He carried the gear out rather than putting it on. Lucy joined him and Tommy flew them back out, this time dropping the water that had been loaded on. Lucy did the work of reporting what they saw from the air and it didn’t look great. The sky was tinted orange and gray and it could have looked beautiful if it wasn’t so destructive. They were directed to reload more water to drop and that was how it went for a while. 

Tommy had no idea what time it was when they were told to just bring down the chopper and join on the ground. It was night, but that was hard to tell with the orange and yellow flames and the clouds of smoke that flew into the air. They landed pretty far from the fire itself, and would have to walk past all the trucks and cars. They put on their gear, Tommy taking his flight suit off to replace it with the heavy pants and coat, and then they were on their way. 

“You look beat, Kinard,” Lucy said. 

“I already worked OT on my last shift. Now this.” 

“Ouch,” she said. 

“And I’m supposed to be going to a wedding tomorrow.” 

She winced. “That’s tomorrow? I don’t think you’re gonna make it.” 

He just laughed. He’d sort of given up on that prospect. The suit he’d left hanging off his closet door would just need to be put back in the back of his closet unless he got out of there in time to join everyone at the reception. Sometimes the job just wasn’t fair, but the closest to having the day off that Tommy had managed was staying on standby. It was also why he’d taken the shift he’d just got off of. 

“I know you were looking forward to it, Tommy,” Lucy said, patting his shoulder. 

Tommy shrugged. There would be other dates with Evan, but this had felt special. Not just how Evan had wanted to include him in something so important, but because it was Evan showing everyone who he really was. 

“One good thing is he’ll understand why you aren’t making it,” Lucy added. 

That just reminded Tommy of the disappointed look on Evan’s face when he left the karaoke lounge.

They got their orders from the battalion chief and Tommy found himself falling into the rhythm. Anytime he had to get down on the ground, it reminded Tommy why he loved the sky, not that he really minded the change in pace. He did gain his second wind as he worked which helped keep him going. 

Tommy didn’t get a chance to check his phone again until he was on a break. Grabbing a protein bar to snack on and drinking water for his very parched and dry throat. 

He had a voicemail from Eddie as well as a few missed calls and several texts. 

Evan: 🛏️ 🤵🏻‍♂️

Evan: 🚁

Eddie: 🍾🍾bavcnjklo’s!!

Evan: i mus u…com e bcksjm pldne

Eddie: yo boyfrienddd owens 👚

Tommy just smiled. He was going to have so much fun when he saw Evan again. He didn’t bother with the voicemail, because he had to save something to amuse himself with later and then returned to the job. 

As the night wore on, he was sent back to Harbor to fuel up, and fill up with retardant. It was apparently the type of fire that just kept fueling itself up. They were doing some work fighting it and keeping it from spreading, but he could tell it would still be hours before they were close to getting it put out. 

The next time he checked his phone there wasn’t anything new and he hoped that meant that Evan had gone to bed. At least one of them was getting some sleep. 

A few hours later found him clutching at the tiny paper cup of coffee he’d been handed by a stressed looking boy. It wasn’t gonna do much, but anything to stay attentive. He pulled his phone out and it was getting really close to wedding time. He might be lucky if he made it to the reception. 

Evan: Chim is missing 

Evan: Sorry for all the drunken texts.

Evan: Last night was insane. We thought Chim was sleeping…he wasn’t here all night. 

Evan: He wouldn’t leave Maddie at the altar. Something has to be wrong. 

Evan: Found Chim’s phone

Evan: No Chim 

Evan: Maddie is going to dispatch to look for him. Sending people home from wedding. Guess you won’t be missing it after all. Be safe out there. I’ll keep updating. 

Tommy suddenly wondered why none of them had actually bothered to check in on Chim the night before. How long had he been missing? 

“Hey, what’s up?” Lucy asked. 

“Looks like Chim is missing,” Tommy said.

A text came through just then. 

Evan: He got on a bus going downtown. 

“They find him?” 

“Not yet,” Tommy said. 

“Keep me updated, alright?” 

Due to his lack of rest, Tommy was kept working on the ground. The fire just didn’t seem to want to die down. He’d lost count of how many companies had been brought out. After his second wind, he did gain a third, and it kept him going. When he could, he checked his phone, looking for the good news that Chim had been found safe and sound. 

Evan: Pretty sure Chim has viral encephalitis

Evan: Out on the street looking for him. He helped triage a bunch of people. We think he doesn’t remember what year it is. 

Evan: He went to the Lees. They’re taking him to the hospital. 

Evan: Drs pretty confident he’ll be fine.

He felt relieved and yet he also knew that Evan was probably hung over, worried, and dealing with his sister’s emotions and worries as well. He wished, more than anything, to be there for him and give Evan a shoulder to lean on. 

On his next break, while he tried to stomach a granola bar, he got a good look at his phone again. The fire was more than 80% contained. A lot of the companies already making to depart. 

Evan: He’s awake and he wants to get married anyway. Have to do it before visiting hours are over. Ceremony starts in like an hour. 

He’d attached a location pin. 

“Hey, did they find him?” 

Tommy looked up. “Yeah. They’re having the wedding at the hospital.” 

Lucy made a face. “Seriously? I guess that’s fitting for them.” 

“Is Kinard texting his boyfriend again?” someone else asked. 

Tommy turned and found James, who wiggled his eyebrows. Lucy laughed. 

“Yes, actually. He’s sad he’s not gonna make it to the wedding.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s today?” 

“Yeah…but, you know, fire. And now it’s happening at the hospital, so…”

So he wasn’t going to make it there and Evan would probably make that pouty disappointed face and Tommy was the one that had put it there. Not on purpose, and maybe Evan would understand, but he would still be responsible for it. 

“So he’s gonna be moody all the way back to Harbor,” Lucy said. 

They were given the okay to go when they got back from their break and Tommy couldn’t have been happier. He still wouldn’t make it. He and Lucy were gonna have to catch ride back to Harbor and then even if he didn’t stop to get changed, he’d still have to drive to the hospital. 

Lucy solved the problem for him, getting him a lift on the ambulance taking a couple of firefighters with minor burn injuries. He didn’t care that he was a mess and that he still had all his gear on.  

Tommy: Heading over to hospital. Not sure I’ll make the ceremony, but I’m coming. 

Evan texted when they were around the corner from the hospital. 

Evan: They just got married. 

Evan: Tell me when you get here.

Tommy: Emergency entrance in a few minutes. 

Evan: I’m coming. 

“Go get your boy,” the firefighter with a nasty burn down his left arm said when the ambulance parked. 

The paramedic and the firefighter both made kissy noises at him. It was the result of a long night, they were all tired and loopy. Tommy didn’t even bother to respond. The driver just grinned at him when Tommy threw him a thank you. 

Tommy felt weary down to his bones. He was sore and a headache was brewing right behind his eyes. The time he’d been sitting for the drive had only tired him out more. He walked quickly, regardless, past the doors that slid open and then he saw him. Evan was in a soft looking blue hoodie. 

“Sorry I’m late. That fire was a beast,” Tommy began, ready to offer more explanations. 

Evan didn’t look upset. 

“So are you,” Evan said which Tommy didn’t even understand.  

The next thing Tommy knew was Evan’s hand on his shoulder, climbing to his neck and his lips pressing insistently on his. Tommy fell into it, he kissed back, unable to keep a moan from getting buried between their lips as he pulled Evan closer by the waist, losing himself entirely to Evan and not quite believing that this had been his welcome. The first kiss, the one that Tommy had replayed in his mind too many times to count, it had been soft and sweet and lovely, but this was…it was mind-melting. It was wet and messy and hot…so so hot. 

It was only when the doors opened behind them again, that they both realized where they were. The blush on Evan’s face was partially hidden by the soot that had got on him and Tommy cracked up into a laugh. 

“What?” Evan asked, smiling still. 

“You’re covered in soot.” 

Evan touched his face and brought his fingers down, rubbing them together. “I’m used to it,” he said and then, narrowed his eyes on Tommy. “Wait, why are you covered in soot?” 

“Wound up helping on the ground.”

He was glad that Evan didn’t question it or ask for an explanation like someone else might. Tommy was exhausted and he was feeling it more and more, but he let Evan lead him further into the hospital. 

“You’re not gonna clean up first?” he asked, conscious of what it would look like. 

Evan just shot him a grin. If anything, it made the soot even more obvious. “Nah. There’s cake. Come on.” 

Tommy was too tired to do anything to stop Evan. Then again it was his face even if it was Tommy’s soot. 

Chimney’s room was full of people. Too many for him to take in at once, so he focused on the newly weds. Chimney was propped up in the hospital bed with his new wife. Their very adorable daughter — Evan’s niece — at the foot of the bed. 

Evan cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, “look who almost made it.” 

“Congratulations you two,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony.” 

He could see it on Chimney’s face, the toll of the day and yet the happiness that managed to still shine through. He did look between him and Buck a few times. Tommy caught Eddie’s gaze too and saw that Eddie was fighting to hold in laughter probably at some attempt at being supportive. Evan was never going to live this down. 

“Looks like you were…busy,” Chim said. 

“Cake?” Evan asked. He was simply amazing. 

Tommy was by his own admonition, confident. He hadn’t always been, and there were still certainly things that made him unsure and nervous. When he first realized that Evan was completely new to liking men, he’d assumed that it would take time for Evan to come to terms with it and to come out and to be ready for acting on it. He’d wanted to fully remove himself from the equation so that Evan wasn’t pressured into more than he was ready for. Maybe Evan just processed things at a speed Tommy wasn’t used to, or he was actually far more prepared than Tommy had expected. 

Evan brought two plates with cake over and their fingers brushed as Tommy grabbed his. He saw Hen and Karen looking at them and Hen gave him a nod that looked more proud than anything else. Another couple was staring, they were older and if Tommy hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the resemblance and put it together at once. It took him until he saw them interacting with Evan’s niece. Her grandparents — Evan’s parents. 

He focused on eating cake, too tired for anything else. It was sweet and far tastier than anything he’d had to eat all day. Evan kept close to his side, only leaving for a few minutes to speak to Christopher before he was back, taking his empty plate and getting rid of it before returning, this time stepping even closer to him. 

Tommy was aware that he was covered in soot and ash and sweat and that he probably smelled like smoke and burning trees. As much as he wanted a shower, he wanted a bed more. 

“We can leave after pictures,” Evan whispered to him as Karen started taking pictures of Maddie and Chim. 

Tommy leaned his shoulder on the doorway watching the different combinations. It didn’t take very long and then he saw Evan hugging his sister and then Chim before heading his way. He didn’t go to his parents, but he saw him share a smile with Hen and Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze. It was clear who Evan’s family was. 

“Thank you for coming, Tommy,” Maddie said, loud enough for him to hear it at the door. 

Tommy gave her a nod and he waved at the room as he walked out with Evan. Tommy didn’t know if he was the one to reach out or if it was Evan, but at some point, Evan’s hand found its way into his. 

“Did you drive here?” Evan asked. 

“Caught a ride on an ambulance.” 

“Okay. Good. So we won’t have to come back and get your car.”

Evan got him to his car and Tommy was surprised when Evan actually opened the passenger door for him and then closed it after Tommy got in before rounding the car and getting in. 

“Your place?” Evan asked.

“Please.” 

Evan chuckled. “I’m going to need your address.” 

Tommy just pulled out his phone and opened google maps and hit home before handing his phone over. He put his seatbelt on and then leaned against the door, trying to fight off the sleep that threatened to take him. 

“Rest,” he heard Evan say and then felt the touch of a hand in his hair and cheek. 

When the car started moving, he sighed and let his eyes close fully. The next thing Tommy knew, he felt hands cupping his chin and thumbs brushing his cheeks. 

“Tommy. Tommy. We’re here, Tommy.” 

He blinked awake and felt all of it hit him again. The headache that was starting earlier was full blown. He was sore and tired and his eyes literally stung, too dry and eyelids too heavy to keep open. It took everything in him to get out of the car and he stumbled once his feet hit the ground. 

“Seriously, how long have you gone without sleep?”

Tommy heard the question, but he didn’t process it. 

“That long,” Evan said and there was something unreadable on his face. “Keys?” Evan asked. 

Back at Harbor, he realized and groaned until he remembered the flower pot. After two instances of having to break into his own house and having to replace a lock in the one instance and a door in the other, Tommy had figured out he needed a hidden spare key. He had a fake rock in the flower pot. He pointed it out to Evan who dealt with taking it out without damaging the flowers and then opening the door. 

For some reason, he didn’t know why he’d expected Evan to just leave him there once he’d made it inside. He wasn’t exactly fit to be company, not when all he really needed was to crawl into bed, the ash and soot and sweat to be dealt with when he woke. 

Evan walked inside with him, though, and stopped him when he tried to walk further in. 

“First you’re getting all this gear off,” Evan said. 

Tommy grunted. He tried to fight his jacket off, but it didn’t want to budge. Evan’s hands were deft as they helped to pull the whole thing off, dropping it right in the entryway. Tommy fumbled with the pants, but Evan pulled each suspender off his shoulders, his hands soft and careful and then the pants were pooling at his feet. Evan knelt and helped with his shoes and then his pants. He was down to just his base layer and Tommy could have just crawled into bed just like that. Evan had other ideas. 

Tommy found himself in his bathroom. Evan seemed to have no problems undressing him and Tommy was too tired, even when he was down to just underwear. All of it was a bit of a blur, but later he would remember how nice it felt to have someone else wash his hair, or how he’d had more than cold tile to lean on while soap washed away everything. 

He remembered the feel of a towel on his skin and the light touch of a hand on his bare back and then how it felt to get into his bed, the sheets clean and nice and cool. He remembered a kiss on his forehead and a hand that he grabbed onto and a warm body that contrasted nicely to the cool sheets. 

Tommy woke up slowly, aware that he was in his bed, but that he wasn’t alone and that there was too much light coming from the windows where the shades hadn’t been drawn. His mind supplied very little in explanation for why he would have forgotten his shades and even less about why he wasn’t alone. His eyelids were too heavy to open, and he felt stiff and more than a little sore.

“Sleep,” Evan said. “It’s early, still.” 

Evan. Evan was in his bed. His back to Tommy’s front, and his hand on the arm Tommy had around him, fingers gently running over his forearm to his hand. 

He drifted, not fully asleep, but certainly not awake. Fell back asleep. 

A while later, he woke alone. He’d been on his side, but he dropped onto his back, blinking at the ceiling. It felt like a dream. A kiss at the entrance to a hospital and Chim getting married in a hospital room. Evan in his shower. 

Wait…Evan in his shower?

The hospital? 

He heard footsteps and as he started to sit up, Evan walked in. He brought a bottle of water and a plate with toast and eggs and potatoes. Tommy’s stomach growled. Evan chuckled and wait, was Evan wearing one of his shirts? 

“Hungry?” Evan asked. “You slept for almost ten hours.” 

He’d probably needed it. Didn’t keep him from being quite a bit groggy. Tommy watched Evan as he set the plate down on Tommy’s bedside table. He handed him the water, though, and Tommy hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. 

As he was drinking, one thing came to him. 

“Evan, did you kiss me in the middle of a hospital?” 

Evan’s face went pink. “It wasn’t the middle. More like by the entrance.” 

“Oh.”

“Eat up,” Evan said. “It’s gonna get cold.” 

Tommy took the plate when Evan handed it to him. His first bite of toast made him groan. When he wiped crumbs off his chin, he stopped. Chin. Soot. 

“Soot,” he said.

Evan just laughed. “There’s pictures, don’t worry. Just eat. And then I’ll explain and we can be lazy for the rest of the day. I wasn’t sure if you’d want coffee? I still don’t know how you take it.” 

Tommy chuckled. “No. No coffee.” 

“Okay. But I’ll get you more water, then. Fruit?” 

“Sure, Evan.” 

Tommy didn’t know what to expect. He ate his breakfast with gusto, was glad when Evan reappeared with what appeared to be a bowl of cut up fruit that Tommy wasn’t entirely sure had been in his kitchen and a few bottles of water. And yes, it was definitely Tommy’s shirt.

“Last night—”

“We were both very tired, and you were very sooty and I know from experience you don’t want to go to bed like that. I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I don’t know that you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in your shower. How are you feeling today?” 

“I’m fine. Thank you, Evan. You didn’t overstep.” 

“Good. We’re both off today so unless you want to be alone…how about a movie?” 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever had other partners that cared about him — it was just that Evan did it differently. Like he was trying to find Tommy’s boundaries and electing to respect them despite how much he’d already done the night before and despite staying with Tommy and sleeping in his bed. 

“A movie sounds great,” Tommy said. 

It was much later, after they watched a few movies and Evan ordered them a pizza that he had the thought to check his phone. A lot had come back to him, including the litany of texts he’d received from a drunk Evan and Eddie. He found the voicemail he’d put off listening to and put it on speaker before hitting play while Evan was in the bathroom. 

Music came through first. Eddie’s voice yelling something and then Evan. 

“I like you so so so so much, Tommy. Soooo much.”

“Calling your boyfriend, Buck? Buck? Everyone, Buck has a boyfriend!” The sound of something breaking and then, Eddie again. “His name is Tommy! Say hi to Tommy!” 

A chorus of “hi, Tommy!” shouted by what could only be some kind of drunk crowd. 

“You’re…you’re like a guy…a guy’s guy. Strong. Want to kiss you again and hold your hand. Eddie…Eddie, did you know he has really nice hair? And a cleft chin?”

“Shhhh, Buck’s on phone with boyfriend,” Eddie’s voice came through. 

“Miss you,” Evan said. “Eddie, I’m gonna kiss him.” 

Eddie laughing. “Kiss him!” 

“Like kiss him kiss him with tongue and…and—”

More shouts and then the voicemail cut off. 

Tommy found Evan, face buried in his hands, standing in the doorway.  

“Hey, you did say you were going to kiss me,” Tommy said. “And for the record, I like you so so so so much too.” 

Evan rushed back to Tommy’s bed, crawling from the foot to where Tommy lay. Earlier they’d gotten up to make it up, but they’d been lounging atop the covers in a way that Tommy very rarely did. Evan was on his knees and he leaned over and reached for his face, thumb ending right over the cleft on Tommy’s chin and though he took a moment to stare down at Tommy, it didn’t take long before he was leaning down and they were kissing. Tommy pulled him closer, bringing him down so Buck’s weight rested half on Tommy. Evan hummed into it and when the kiss broke, Evan dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I really do,” Evan said, turning his face so he wasn’t speaking into Tommy’s shirt. 

“What?” 

“Like you.” 

[themonotonysyndrome]

Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets

So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):

And I thought:

"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"

Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!

(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)

-

Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.

First comes the awkwardness. 

It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 

Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 

‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’

‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’

‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’

That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 

The texts stopped after that. 

Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 

His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 

Soon, a year passes. 

Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 

It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 

His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 

Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 

He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 

Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.

‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’

The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 

‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’

Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 

The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.

Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 

“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”

Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 

“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 

“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 

Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 

“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 

Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 

Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 

“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 

“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 

Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.

Instead, they hum. 

“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 

“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”

Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 

A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 

“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 

Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 

“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 

He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 

“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 

That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 

Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 

“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 

“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 

“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 

Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.

“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 

That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 

“You kept my mug?” 

“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 

“Right… right. Sorry.” 

“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 

- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.

Second comes the realisation. 

Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 

And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 

Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 

When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 

That is until - 

Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 

“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”

Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 

Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”

“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 

Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 

It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 

Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 

Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 

The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 

“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 

Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 

And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 

Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 

Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 

And now he knows why. 

“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 

It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 

They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 

Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 

Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 

Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 

However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 

Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 

It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 

“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 

Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 

“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 

“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 

“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 

Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 

The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 

[daisynik7]

Hello, hello!

I wanted to drop a request for your y2k event. I was thinking "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys for Kishibe - fluff + angst.

Thank you and again, congrats on 2k followers! you deserve them!

Fallin'

I keep on fallin’ in and out of love with you. Sometimes I love you, sometimes you make me blue.

Word Count: ~1.2k

cw: angst, fluff, canon universe, established relationship, explicit language

Summary: Kishibe never intended to fall for you. As the world’s strongest devil hunter and being practically insane, he never meant to subject anyone else to this chaotic lifestyle of his. Still, somewhere along the way, he met you, and ever since, you want to stay by his side. And that scares Kishibe more than any devil could. 

Author’s Notes: Thank you @itsfairly for the request and for always supporting me! I have so much love for you, I hope you know that! This is a great song for the y2k karaoke party and it’s perfect for Kishibe. I always enjoy writing for him; I think he’s an especially interesting character, and obviously, he’s hot, lol. I hope you like this! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Kishibe isn’t keen on routines. Ever since he became a part of Public Safety at the ripe age of twenty, he’s lived a fast and unpredictable lifestyle. Some might call it spontaneous. Unstable. Even dangerous. He liked being kept on his toes; it made him alert, made him vigilant. He has to be when he’s the strongest Devil Hunter in the world. If he’s not prepared for any kind of deviation that comes his way, then he’s screwed. 

Unfortunately, he already is. He’s finally met his match. And it’s neither a devil nor a fiend. Not even a fellow Devil Hunter. It’s you.

Oh-so-precious you, who appeared in his life no more than a year ago. An innocent bystander he saved in Shibuya when you recklessly tried to defend yourself and a child against a Spider Devil, despite your severe arachnophobia. If you were alone, you would have been found cowering in fear, probably worst, a corpse mangled into pieces. But you overcame your phobia for a split-second when you decided to guard this kid, who couldn’t have been much older than five, parents nowhere to be seen, alone just like you. You didn’t stand a chance. After all, you’re only human, untrained for combat, a simple office worker trying to navigate your normal life. How could you fight this thing? Thankfully, Kishibe swoops in just in time, displaying his physical prowess so seamlessly. And of course, after having your lives saved, how can you not be smitten? 

It’s only a few months later when you realize how equally smitten he is with you. By chance, you reunite at a bar, the first time since the incident in Shibuya. He recognizes you instantly, the image of you standing defiantly with a metal rod in hand, facing a devil ten times your size. He’s seen idiots like you before, thinking they could take these demons on themselves. They’re never quite as pretty and impressionable as you, though. 

A couple cocktails in, inhibitions are let loose. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. Both you and he can hold liquor well, so you pretend to be tipsy when really, you’re completely sober, making bad decisions you can blame on the alcohol. He takes you to his apartment nearby and you spend the night together, and just as you fantasized, he’s equally skilled in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Eventually, you fall asleep with his arms around you, his lips grazing the nape of your neck, his breathing steady against your skin. The next morning, he’s gone, without so much as a kiss on the cheek or a note left on your nightstand, not even a text to explain his absence. If you didn’t have the scent of him embedded in your sheets, you would have thought it all to be a dream.  

It continues like this for the next several months. Chance encounters at the same bar begin to feel more than just coincidental, intentional even. You both sense it, neither of you admitting to it, too afraid to acknowledge that it’s more than just sex at this point. And while all that is good and great, the real kicker here is that you genuinely enjoy each other’s companies. Conversation flows effortlessly between you. His humor, while being somewhat morbid due to his career, jives well with yours. And most important of all, you feel safe around him. He’ll protect you no matter what. 

The irony of it all is that wanting to protect you is what makes him sneak out before you wake up in the morning. To him, it’s a way to prevent whatever this is from going any further. Despite yearning for it so much, he doesn’t want to wreck your life by bringing you into his. Who could ever love someone as fucked up as he is? An alcoholic, womanizing, money-hungry flawed being with no future except one of fighting devils. He’s already decided years ago that he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. And now, you just had to come along and ruin his plans. 

He'll never say it out loud, but he’s scared. The deeper he falls, the harder it will be to climb his way back up should anything go wrong. He already feels his heart being tugged closer and closer to yours every night you spend together. The possibilities of a bright future seem more and more plausible with you around. He can’t let himself succumb to this idea of normality; it’s uncharted territory for him, and he doesn’t quite know how to navigate it.

It's been a year since he laid eyes on you. Months that you’ve been together in some weird situationship that neither of you bother to label. Tonight, after you make love in his bedroom, you snuggle with each other, fingers laced together, his body surrounding yours in the familiar warmth you’ve grown to cherish. Something comes over you in this moment. Maybe it’s impatience from not knowing where this is going. Maybe it’s longing for validation that he won’t just leave you like he does every night. Maybe it’s because you’re in love with him and want to give him a reason to finally stay. You peer up at him, delicately tracing the scar running parallel to his jaw, heart beating faster as you confess. “I love you, Kishibe.”

His eyes widen only slightly; he was always good at keeping a poker face. He swallows hard, taking your hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently. “Go to sleep.” 

You glare at him. “Is that really all you have to say?”

He sighs, releasing your hand, pinching the skin between his brows. “What do you want me to say? That I love you too?”

You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just asking you to be honest with me. I want to know if whatever this is,” you point between the two of you, “has a future.”

“You know that my line of work is dangerous. You know that the future is uncertain.”

“And yet, I’m still here, and so are you. So clearly, we want to be together, no matter how grim this future you speak of is.” 

It takes him a minute to respond, contemplating your very valid argument. He faces away from you, avoiding your gaze. “Then maybe we should finally call this quits. You’re better off without me anyways.”

You cup his cheek, turning his head towards yours. “I know you don’t mean that. I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. You protect me, and I want to protect you too. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” You nuzzle your nose to his, foreheads pressed together. He closes his eyes, relishing this intimacy, more afraid to lose it forever than surrender to it. Although he’s still scared, he realizes that with you by his side, he no longer has to traverse life on his own. 

~~~

The next morning, you wake up, fully expecting the typical cold, empty space beside you. To your surprise, you’re still cradled in Kishibe’s arms, his warm body embracing yours. It takes him a few more weeks for him to say it back, but it’s in this moment that you know he loves you too.