#or to get him to do some more fake mouth static

[v88sy]

If Buck used his phone in Mexico while they were doing the rescue he would’ve probably gotten some crazy charges.

That could be why he asked for a detailed bill

He was sitting in the back scrolling through Tommy's IG, snooping. 😂

[screampied]

FAKIN’ IT FOR YOU ?! ☆

gojo, sukuna, nanami, toji, choso. faking an orgasm n how they react

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, faking órgasms, praise, filthy dirty talk, orgasm denial, first time squirt (choso), öral (f! receiving), nipple play, impact play, manhandling, req by anon, mdni. total wc 3.7k

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“what the fuck was that?”

he wouldn’t even care he was balls deep—you can’t even try to fake an orgasm with toji because he’ll immediately know. toji knows every inch of your body—he studies it like one would study for an exam, every particular nerve, he knows how to hit it until you break. yet, the moment you decide to fake your release, all hell breaks loose. you’d be on all fours as he stops his churlish hits against you, a hand of his gathers a firm amount of your hair before he tightly yokes it back. sweetly, you play coy and moan, “what was what?”

“let’s not,” toji grumbles, and he’s annoyed. you can hear the extra grit linger underneath his tone as he speaks. ravened eyebrows of his curve into a frustrated furrow before he pulls out. it was so abrupt, you whine before he gives your ass a rude spank, darting his eyes away with an eye roll. “oh, please, girl. was that a fake moan too?”

“it wasn’t f-fake,” you protest, and you’re suddenly quiet from the way he rubs his fatten swollen tip against your soddened entrance. toji could read you like a book though—you weren’t bullshitting anyone. you was so close but instead, you decided to be a bit more of a brat, kind of desperate to see toji’s reaction.

all toji does is pull out. you whine, the friction titillating against every number of nerves hidden within your body before he spanks your ass again. “faking an orgasm for me, girl bye.” and as he speaks, you could hear his sheer vexation. toji brings your hips up to him, having your face laid down against the woolly mattress before he wraps a hand around his shaft. giving it a few pumps, he starts to slap his tip against your entrance. “got some balls, girl. i’ll give ya that.”

“w- why’d you pull out?” you whimper, making a cute attempt at grinding your rear against him. toji snickers, drubbing his plump cockhead against your slit, pushing it in—only to pull it right back out. the dewy squashes your pussy makes only rings against your ears further. all you feel is pure static, you’re panting, chest heaving, everything and above.

with a secure grip against a nice chunk of your hair, toji groans. “b- because i fuckin’ cannn,” he mocks your faltering stutter, a palm of his bedaubing against your folds before spanking it silly. “ooh,” he purrs, watching your thighs shimmy upon impact. you bite your lip, trying to rut yourself further against him and he only resumes to rub his rounded fat tip between your slit. desperately, you try to swallow him whole but before you could even attempt — toji pulls it back out, slapping his hefty cock onto your pussy again and again. “got some nerve faking an orgasm with me when y’er this soaked already.”

“f-fuck,” a mewl dies out your throat as you feel him continue to smear his rotund cockhead all over your most sensitive parts. with your back hunched over, pretty thighs parted, you let off a bratty giggle. huffing out a sweet sigh, you hum, “it’s just … you’re getting a bit old, toji. didn’t wanna be mean.”

toji’s left eye twitches. as he ghosts a few fingers against your cunt — he slowly inserts two thick fingers inside of your lewd opening before pulling his digits back out. “old, huh?” and he flips you over to look straight at him. sable hairs of his run down his brows before he slyly smiles. a gasp wretches out from your throat before he shoves both of your knees up to your chest, realigning himself. with a husky grunt, he snarls. “don’t play with me. old or not i’ll still break this bed, whore.”

“d- do it then.” you almost simper but he cups a hand over your face.

“tch, such a mouth on ya. ain’t nothin’ a few orgasms won’t fix,” and you moan once he starts to finally make his way inside of you. the girth of toji thickens and dilates throughout your walls and you feel his grip tighten against your knees. as the bed starts to creak in harmony again, he darkly cackles, hot breath aerating against your neck. “oh, and just a heads up baby. when i break this bed, ‘s coming out of your pocket to replace it. ‘ppreciate it.”

★ CHOSO KAMO

“h-huh,” he’d stammer in short briskly breaths. choso doesn’t realize you fake it until he actually realizes something wasn’t right. with him being propped up between your plush thighs, he gently gnaws against your chin, panting heavily. “baby, did you just fake your orgasm?”

you only give him a sheepish grin and choso pouts, he leans in to kiss your pout, soft sweet kisses gluing against your chin before he whines. “that… wasn’t nice,” and he buries his face into his neck. choso’s only teasing—but in the case that you do fake an orgasm with him, he’s more than determined to make you cum at least ten times harder. choso would have you laying flat on your back, gradually easing himself back into your sopping accepting walls before he whines. “oh f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling you immediately engulf around his length. he’s throbbing into you, various veins that run down his shaft pulse inside of you. your legs immensely snake around his waist before he starts to deeply drill into you.

choso’s pace is different this time — it’s much more frantic, he’s still whimpering praises into your ear as he’s plummeting his dick within your gummy clingy walls. “mhm, just like that baby. s-so good,” you’d mewl out, his hips continuing to drive into you at a full smacking speed. it’s addictive, the way his sharp hips rotate against you—you feel your tongue hang out before he leans in to suck on it.

you’ve always tasted so sweet, choso’s moans only grow louder as he starts to tap against that same spot buried inside of your cunt. he knows your moans are for real this time because of your body language—how you cling onto him tightly with your giddy arms and legs, biting down onto his right shoulder in pure pleasure. “fuck, fuck right there baby. that’s it, that spot, pleaseee.”

choso could have came alone from your melodic words of encouragement. you’re all stupefied with your eyes crossed, warm hot bodies clashing against each other in sync. he whimpers, feeling his thighs ache near the undersides before his hefty cock reaches yet another deep spot. your legs were steadfastly wrapped around his torso, making sure he’d never leave. “come on baby, give me one, please. gimme a real one,” and he licks a long stripe up your neck. “give it to me, make a mess on m-me so i can clean you right up.”

as you’re positioned in a sprawled way, choso’s hands roam towards your neglected bouncing tits. his head lowers down to suck against them as his hips go slow. a growing pool of heat resides near your lower abdomen as his delicious inches drill in and out of you. “f-fuck, ‘cho. ‘s coming, feel w-wet.”

“let go on me, please,” he purrs, his tongue licking against your sensitive nipples. after a while, he csnt help but start to suck against your precious mounds, moaning as you cup his face to look at you. choso grinds against you, verbosely slowing himself down before you let off a real shriek. as the coarse smacks against each body pitched louder and loduer, you feel yourself zealously jolt forward before you feel a sudden sensation gush out of you. the velocity of it all was soaking — you’re panting, chest heaving as you try to recollect breaths before you feel yourself spouting out more onto your boyfriend. choso pauses, his pink dampened lips quavering as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss on your mouth. “baby,” his eyelids lowers, and he’s puffing for air right with you. a hand of his trails down between your thighs, lifting up your legs before he moans. “did you just squirt on me…?”

feeling a drenching pool of saliva coat into your mouth, you whine out a timid, “y- yes.”

giving you a hungry gaze, his dick twitches inside of you before he pulls out to watch the remnants of your own slick spill out. “o- oh wow,” he gawks at the filthy scenery right before his eyes. in a gruff voice, choso bites his lip, leaning down to press a final delicate kiss against your pussy. “mwah,” his warm lips ghost against your now drenched folds. he can’t help but lick against it, savoring your sweetened taste before he looks up at you with a pleading look in his eyes. “do.. do you think you can squirt for me one more time? pretty please. need you s-so bad.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

the audacity was beyond him—he knows right away, sukuna was no foolish curse.

if it was anything he knew by heart, it was your body. whenever you’re about to orgasm, he likes to stare dead into your eyes whilst he’s giving you his all. slow yet deadly strokes, he likes draining the pleasure out of you with the thick inches of his cock. oh, how his favorite part was to just hear your babbling little voice sob out his name over and over like a looping vinyl on a record player. your adorable cacophonies of “right there, right there,” and “gonna cum, ‘kuna,” and many more, many of which they all never fail to reverb across the padded walls of his sacred chambers.

although, he can easily tell from how it’s real or fake. sukuna gets up close—hearing the sounds of your heavy breaths as your legs wrap around his waist. as you’re taking in every part of his bare long length, your arms sling around him. you’re a mess underneath him, jostling against his beefy built body. the demon’s pure smoldering heat colliding against yours only makes you throb at a much quicker pace. his scent, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “i-i’m close, ‘kuna.” you’d mewl out in a desperate cry, hearing his low animalistic growls all close up against the outer shell of your ear.

he knows,

you didn’t even have to remind him, he knows your body. it was his priceless treasure. sukuna groans as you claw your fingernails into the deep depths of his back. his thickened base resumes to jackhammer into your tight sticky walls furthermore until you croak. he’s just so big, you jaw was dangling open all stupid like before it finally comes— that familiar squeal he’s grown to love. his favorite part.

as your cunt sloshes against the repetitive thwacks against it, you whine out your finish—yet he notices something quite peculiar about your concluding climax. as you lean your back, doe eyes staring into the ceiling, his pointed ears twitch at the way you elongated that single orgasmic syllable. “think you’re so funny,” he says as he waits for your seven second orgasm to come to a closing halt. crimson red eyes makes your tummy churn as you meet his stern gaze and he grips your chin. “little girl, you’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

“w- what?” you coyly mutter, an almost smile pulls against each side of your lips before he glares at you.

sukuna pulls out and you gasp, your ankle brushing against the back of his torso and he squeezes your lips together. “brat,” he snarls, his tone all rough and husky. a free hand of sukuna’s sneaks down between your pried open legs to feel against your pussy. a real moan snatches out from your throat as he rubs sloppy circles against it, only to smack it again, and again, and again. your eyes start to roll as he continues to pace. you’re so soaked that it starts to coat his hand. “look at you. can’t get off to dick but you came just from a few pussy smacks? tch.”

“m-more, ‘kuna. don’t stop pleaseee.” you pant, feeling your tummy cave in as you’re directly underneath him. his weight hovers above you as he still grips your cheeks together, giving you a hot, steamy kiss. sukuna’s forked tongue glides against yours and you whimper in his mouth before he lightly pushes you off. you ‘oof’ back onto the fat padded mattress with a pout as he gets up. with a saddened frown, you sit up to whine. “where— where are you going?”

sukuna fixes his kimono before giving you an annoyed glower. “don’t worry about that. worry about how you’re gonna make that pathetic pussy finish since i apparently can’t make you cum,” and he snickers at your little grumbles before he walks out. “change the sheets when you’re done. fuckin’ wet girl.”

★ NANAMI KENTO

“…oh,” a deep voice groans from behind you. nanami’s voice was low, his simple oh sounded offended more than anything. most of the time he doesn’t really have you on all fours, doggystyle. but today, you were being a bit of a brat. nanami doesn’t mind your little antics, but if it’s to a point where he has to remind you of your place, he will. nanami’s thick cock was plunging in and out of you before he abruptly stops, slowing down once you ‘release.’

your moan sounded a bit too dramatic than usual, you gulp as he lightly grips onto the back of your shirt.

“oh….what?” you’d moan out, and you glance at the mirror that’s propped up in front of the both of you. there—you see nanami with a look of what seems to be mere irritation. nevertheless though, it’s hot. the way his gentle fawn irises burn into you, perfectly arched brows of his lower and a scowl forms onto his lips. he was still fully clothed, just his slacks from work hanging low. out of nowhere, he gives your ass a mean spank.

nanami sighs, feeling his dick that was stuffed inside of you twitch from the inside. “let’s not ask silly questions, my love. you faked that one, didn’t you?” and despite how sweet and alluring his delivery was—you heard a faint rasp in his voice, the baritone as he speaks makes you even more wetter than you already were.

you pout, not fond of how he stopped fucking you, you wanted more—you couldn’t help but be greedy for more of him.

“i didn’t,” you lie through your teeth, arching forward in a cute teasing attempt for him to finish drilling into you. nanami doesn’t follow through though, instead—he gathers a strong yet gentle grip of your hair. as his veins coarse through him, his hefty arms bulge as he pulls you forward to stare at your pathetic needy reflection. “f-finish fucking me, ‘ken. why’d you s-stop?”

“why should i continue, sweetheart? tell me that,” and his words were nothing more but a soft purr. his interest was suddenly piqued—you’ve never faked one of your orgasms before, at least not with him. as you lie on your chest, he takes a peek at your ass before letting off another low sigh. nanami gets directly up close to you before he delicately tightens the grip around your hair a tad bit. “ah, don’t be shy now. tell me what ‘m not doing right to make this pussy feel good. i know you faked it, my love.”

your breath hitches as nanami presses his weight against you—his throbbing cock buries itself between your entrance but he’s not even in fully.

he’s just … idle, his shaft remains near you and you whine from the feeling of him not moving.

“i was just p-playing,” you whine, feeling your perky nipples rub against the satiny-made sheets. whilst you smear your glossy lips together, you grind your hips against your husband. “just wanted attention, ‘ken.”

“my wife,” he whispers, planting a hot kiss near the nape of your neck. his touch alone could make you finish. it was that easy, nanami’s fingers skim against your waist before he sucks gently against your collarbone. “there’s other ways to get my attention, you know that,” and his voice softens by a mile. he’s always gentle with you, his throbbing cock all swollen and built up of so much volumes of seed that he was preparing to give to you. “ugh, having you bent over like this ‘s drivin’ me crazy,” he abruptly admits, feeling you wriggle your ass against his cock that was stuffed between the very temples of your ass. “but,” he swallows, sneaking another kiss, this time against your earlobe. “if i give you another orgasm, ‘s it gonna be real this time?”

“y- yes, promise,” you moan, desperate for him to go back inside. nanami’s hands grab onto your hips now as he pulls them up, relishing in your little arch you’ve got going on for only his eyes to see. you’re gorgeous, he huffs out a few breaths as you take your time to whine out your little words of desire. “won’t fake it anymore, jus’ finish fucking me, please.”

nanami groans—his fingers wrapping around his fat length, giving it a few mere pumps before he prods it against your hungry swallowing slit. “atta girl. keep that arch f’me, yeah,” he sucks his teeth, raising his chin up to where his jawline makes an appearance. “now,” he whispers, deepening his voice as he spreads your legs, making your right cheek sink into the cottony pillow. “let’s try this again. let’s see if i can get a little squirt out of you, sweetheart.”

★ SATORU GOJO

once he finds out you faked your orgasm, it significantly bruises his ego—he tries to play it off with a sheepish cackle cutting out of his throat. “heh, i can fake an orgasm better than that, y’know.” he’d mutter, yet you could hear the little tremor in gojo’s tone. he was quite literally pounding into you before he makes you lie down flat against his chest. he makes you spread your legs for him, exposing your dripping pussy before he pinches your clit. you moan, feeling gojo’s bulge brush off against your ass. “kinda hurt my feelings, hmph.”

“i didn’t f-fake it—” you try to lie. with his fingers rummaging near the inside of your cunt, it had you biting back your words in regret. you lean back against his chest, legs all spread and you start to squirm before he hums against your ear.

“squirmy today aren’t we?” gojo jeers with an impish smile. he titters at the way your legs judder all because of the indecourous stimulation. each tantalizing twitch makes him wanna rub his fingers against your clit even quicker. “if you don’t wanna gimme an orgasm, i’ll just have to do it myself, angel.”

you clench onto his thigh, allowing pleasure to overtake you before his fingertips skid against that familiar spot. now— your moans were very much real, gojo’s fingers was so lengthy that he could reach you in areas his own dick probably couldn’t locate. as your eyelids feel heavy, they shut before another whine leaves your mouth. he still keeps up his pace, maneuvering all kinds of circles over your pussy in a rotation manner before your thighs start to shudder in ecstasy.

“satoru, satoruuuu,” a heavenly sounded whimper dies out your throat. you only then roughly gnaw down on your lip, a cute try at trying to suppress your little moans. “don’t think i can c-cum anymore, ‘s good fuckk.”

he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “yes you can, i know you can baby,” he whispers, and that’s when he moves again, moving himself between your legs this time. gojo brings a chaste kiss towards your pussy, slithery strings of saliva peeling from your folds and it’s so sloppy. immediately, his lips get all moist and muggy with your honeyed slit. he creates a bowling ball grip with two lengthy fingers, shoving the two of them in and out before he blows parching hot air against your cunt. “gotta get my baby a little wetter.” he whispers, watching you pulse from the inside. within seconds, you happily coat your boyfriend's fingers with your dingy sheet arousal before he slowly vigorously continues to knead various circles and shapes against your swollen nub. you were throbbing laboriously, pulse after pulse as you panting repeats itself as if you’re running a marathon.

gojo lolls out his long wet tongue against your pretty pussy, savoring your candied taste as he feels you roughly joggle against his mouth. hot puffs of pants fans against your folds as he chuckles, and he then starts to spank your pussy raw. one spank turns into two, then three, then four . .

you didn’t want him to stop anytime soon—his guzzling greedy sucks against your clit only makes you spasm out even faster. by now, you don’t even remember why you faked your orgasm because the real one was finally about to present itself. it’s coming to you like a tsunami wave, you can’t predict it but it’s preparing to crash into you all at once. the build up has you almost drooling before you grip onto his his meaty thigh.

“s-satoru— something’s hnghhh coming. oh my goddd,” and you’re trapped in a haze, yet gojo doesn’t stop there. he’s so offended that he doesn’t just make you cream on his fingers. he makes you squirt on them too, gushing out so much the that sheets are now all soaked thanks to you. whilst your tummy heaves, your legs feel all numb and not before long, he makes you squirt again. your jaw cutely sways itself open as you lie back on the mattress, feeling the few spurts trickle out of you slowly. “f-fuck,” you whine, and your voice is all strained and tiny.

gojo hums before he starts making out with your pussy. his eyes close as if he’s actually kissing you, each smooch sounds more sloppy by the second before he pulls out his fingers, sitting up to slide them into your mouth. “taste yourself baby. now thaaaat’s how you orgasm,” and as you take his digits into your mouth with droopy eyes, your tongue swirls all around his fingertips. as you moan amply from your own taste, he wrenches out his fingers before sneaking a two second kiss on your lips. “awww, don’t tap out on me now. you can give ‘toru one more, right?”

[strxwberry-milku]

🎀 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖🎀

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Roman Reigns,Jey Uso and Jimmy Uso

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which we explore the things the boys like during sex

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Daddy kink!,Spitting,Spanking, Face slapping( not too hard tho)and plenty more.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,365

౨ৎ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎౨ৎ

1. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡,𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬: “comon baby, I know you can do it” he groaned out as he gripped unto your waist watching as you struggled to take his full member, you whine out in return as you placed your two hands on his chest in hopes of steadying yourself on his thick cock “ I’m trying daddyyy, your dick is to biggg”. Rolling his eyes he braced himself upwards and gripped your hips even tighter “I guess i just have to do it myself ” and with that being said he started to piston in and out of your sloppy hole in such a way that you couldn’t even scream, the only sounds escaping your mouth was pathetic little gasps.” reaching his hands down, he gripped unto your rounded ass and presented a harsh smack on your left cheek “that’s it baby, let daddy hear all those moans” your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your head was swarming with static noises and your vision blurry.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 ��𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : He smirked as he watched your tears trickle down your face, It was such a turn on for him because he knew only he could make you cry in pleasure like this , the way you looked so fucked out and cock drunk made him so weak to his knees. He leaned down close to your face and used one of his hands to grip your jaw “ Awwww is my little baby bout to cum all over daddies dick,hmm?” he faked pouted as he continued his assault against your aching pussy,when he didn’t get a response he gave a little smack against your swollen clit, grunting he said “ I said are.you.going.to.cum.on.daddies.dick?”with every syllable he uttered was a long and harsh stroke inside your quavering pussy. “ YES DADDY I AM” you screamed out in exasperation as you felt as though any second you would explode all over his cock and paint it white. Laughing at your expression he lightly tapped his hand on your cheek,his eyes bore deep into yours and he cruelly smirked down at you “ then come baby”.

𝜗𝜚 𝐉𝐄𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎𝜗𝜚

1. 𝐇𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲: You whimper at the cold sensation of whip cream being poured down your centre.He watched as your eyes rolled back in euphoria as he continued his attack on your puffy clit,you felt like your soul was being sucked out of you,you gripped unto his black locks as your legs trembled and shook; your legs almost closed around his head if not for him grabbing unto them tightly,he let out a hum in delight and closed his eyes as his tongue prodded deep into your tight hole , relishing the sweet taste from the whip cream mixed with your delicious nectar he began lapping at your pussy faster like a starved man“ keep them legs open for me ma,I wanna be able to suck up all of your juices” you wanted to come right then and there,he always knew the right words to say.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦: It comes a time when a couples sex life becomes some what boring,so why not spice it up by wearing scandalous outfits?. “ That’s it mama,twirl around fa daddy” he huskily whispers,as his eyes slowly rake up and down taking in your two piece,lace pink lingerie that you brought from victoria secret, his breath shudders as he leans back on the bed enjoying the little show your putting up for him, if it’s a show he wants then it’s a show he will certainly get.Slowly licking your lips you teasingly fiddle with the panty straps and gaze into his eyes, kissing his teeth in annoyance he leans back up “ ma stop playin wit me before I cut this shit short and fuck you into next week” now as much as you would like that, you loved to see him all riled up also, so you continued your teasing,much to his dismay. Turning around you bend over allowing him to see your pussy print and the little wet stain that accumulated over time by seeing him so eager to fuck you, he let out a groan as his hands immediately went down to palm his crotch to try and calm down his raging boner;giggling deviously at his reaction you begin to slowly drag down your panties,making sure to spread your legs a little wider so he can see your already wet lips “you like what you see daddy?” oh you were so naughty,taunting someone who you know would not hesitate to break your back in for 40 days and 40 nights was not the way to go,but oh well,if he’s the one doing it to you then I guess it’s fine.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍⋆. 𐙚 ˚

1. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤: You loved seeing your man like this…all pussy drunk and hazy from the sinful words that were spilling out of your mouth,it made you feel all powerful seeing the mighty warrior Roman Reigns being so responsive and vulnerable under you. A sense of pride washed over your body like viscous waves hungrily sweeping over anything that got between it’s way; the way his eyes were squeezed tight and mouth hung open allowing you to see his pretty rows of teeth neatly arranged and his pretty pink tongue patiently sat inside waiting like a preying lion ready to strike out at any second, you couldn’t resist the urge,so you leaned a bit up and angled your mouth above his and allowed your spit to dribble into his awaiting gob, you moaned in pleasure as you watched him close back his mouth and swallowed it. You stifled a laugh at the scene in front of you, knowing that if he heard your mockery he would surely snap out of whatever trance he was in and ruin the fun for you. His body wracked and pulsed under your touch as you raked your nails up and down his back which in return elicited pitiful whines from the man under you. Leaning down close to his ear you allowed your tongue to lol out its cave and slowly graze it against the shell of his ear “ Awww is my baby about to cum?” you taunted making sure to tighten your self even more around him . curses flew rapidly out of his mouth like a mantra as his cock pulsed inside you from your delicious words, it rang in his ears like a sweet tune. Humming in satisfaction you barked out a command “ cum for me daddy,paint your pussy white,ruin my insides so that no other man except from you has the access to make it this wet ” with a deep groan he flung his head back and began to spurt his creamy load deep inside you.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭: If there’s one thing that Roman likes, Is putting a bratty girl like you in their place. Stepping inside the elevator he groans in frustration as he watches as you throw a little temper tantrum at not being able to get your favourite victoria secret spray.Turing around to face him you shout “ I told you I wanted that spray! you never listen to me!” you shouted and rolled your eyes in irritation as you crossed your arms. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears, In just a split second he had you pressed against the elevator wall with his hand clasped firmly around your neck. His warm breath fanned against your face as you watched his jaw clench and his stern eyes bore deep into yours “ I suggest you knock off that little attitude you have baby, I told you I would get you the perfume later, but seeing as though you wanna act like a brat I might just change my mind” scrunching up your face, you open your mouth to let out a complaint but that was quickly stopped when you felt his mouth against yours. Gasping out for air you look up breathlessly into his brown, maroon eyes “ please daddy” you desperately whimpered ; he barked out a laugh, were you serious right now? YOU wanted to cum when YOU were showing off the whole day? you must take him for a fool. Peering down at you he let out a mocking laugh “ you must have lost your mind if you think that you will get to cum today baby” groaning in frustration you pout and turn your head away from him. The elevator pinged signalling that you were at your final destination; quickly removing his hand from your neck he whispers “I’ll see how you act by the end of the day, and maybe just maybe! i’ll see if you deserve this dick”.

BEFORE YALL GET ON MY ASS, I have been busy with work and shi.So I decide to write y’all a lil sum to apologise.

But….hopefully for da halloween season I will return on my grind.

[cryptidghostgirl]

could you do Alastor and Lucifer with an Living! Adams Family! Reader?

A/N duh. this idea was so fun!! It's giving Beetlejuice in the best way

I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Reader x Lucifer)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of suicide in reference to Dante's Inferno. Bones. Art made from bones.

Word Count: 1,655

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n sat before the summoning circle as she lit the las candle. It was a Friday and she was bored, what else was she supposed to be doing besides following some probably fake spell she found in a book she'd thrifted? She took after her mother in that regard but had wound up with her fathers rather flamboyant personality.

"Now, what are those words..." she mumbled to herself, turning the odd slip of paper the spell had been written on over.

Her eyes glazed over them and she cleared her throat.

"Spirits from beyond, I call you Lucifer, who first cursed us, I call you to me. Lucifer, who commands the legions of the dead, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Lucifer, wicked, heartless beast, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you!"

Y/n looked up from the paper in excitement, a look which quickly dimmed as absolutely nothing happened before her eyes. She turned back to the paper, squinting to read the cramped letters.

"Okay, wait. Theres another name here. Uh, spirits from beyond, I call you. Alastor, keeper of the dark defeat, I call you to me. Alastor, demonic overlord, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Alastor, both hunter and hunted, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you."

Again, her work failed to yield any results. Y/n stayed seated for a moment, waiting. When it was clear to her that the spell had not in fact done it's job, she sighed and got to her feet.

"Well that was a waste of a half hour."

She turned on the lights before leaning forward and grabbing the nearest candle. With a short breath of air, she blew it out only, somehow, all the candles seemed to go out as she did this, even the scented one on the shelf that hadn't been involved in the ritual.

"Oh there is no way." Y/n smiled, anticipation bubbling in her chest, "There is literally no way!"

The lights began to flicker as she placed the candle she was holding on the desk. The minute it hit the table's surface, the room fell into a short spell of darkness. As the lights flickered back on, Y/n saw two men standing in the center of the circle.

Well, men was a strong word. They were both humanoid in shape but, neither really looked like people. They looked around the room in shock, taking in every detail before their eyes landed on each other.

The taller of the two demons, the one all in red and holding an old fashioned looking microphone, widened his already close to horrific smile. The smaller one, dressed in all white, narrowed his eyes.

"You." the man in white sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course I had to get summoned with you."

"There is literally no way." Y/n exclaimed, cutting off the red demon as he opened his mouth to speak.

Both men turned to Y/n, in her black dress with her wide excited eyes.

"Ah." the red demon hummed, his voice coming out like radio static as he straightened his jacket, "You must be the one who summoned us. I am Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Yes, quite the pleasure."

Y/n turned her gaze to the demon in white.

"So that means you must be Lucifer. It is such an honor to meet you."

"Huh." Lucifer smiled slightly, "Now that's more like it. Wait, you're not one of those freaks, are you?"

"Freaks?" Y/n asked, her head cocked slightly to the side and her brow furrowed.

"One of those oh! You brought evil to the world! You're my idol people." Lucifer imitated animatedly.

Alastor shot him an irritated look as Y/n's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No no no! They have it all wrong. You didn't bring evil, you gave us the greatest gift of all. You have us free will, self determination. The ability to be exactly who we are and want to be."

Lucifer turned to Alastor, crossing his arms over his chest with a self satisfied smile.

"Oh I like her. Pretty and she knows her stuff?"

Y/n blushed slightly, looking away. She clasped her hands behind her back. Alastor didn't like that.

"Yes, quite the charming girl indeed." he hummed through gritted teeth, meeting Y/n's eyes.

"And Alastor..." she put a finger to her lip in thought, "Alastor... I am really sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't think I have ever heard of you before."

His eye twitched and Lucifer's grin widened.

"Well, my dear, I just so happen to be one of the most powerful overlords in all the rings of Hell."

"Huh. Neat."

"So, what have you called us here to do?" Lucifer asked amiably.

"Oh, well, I hadn't really though that far. Um..." she looked around the space of her room.

There wasn't anything she really wanted. Y/n had a comfortable life, a loving family. Anyone she wanted revenge on she was more than capable of taking care of on her own. Mostly, she was just bored.

Nodding her head once, she walked up to the edge of the summoning circle and promptly sat down. Her legs crossed, she adjusted the long skirt of her dress over her knees.

"Let's just chat."

Alastor and Lucifer exchanged a confused look.

"You are going to have to ask us for something, my dear." Alastor hummed pleasantly, "Otherwise we wont be able to go home. That's how this little game works, after all."

"So, I am asking you to chat. Do you guys want any drinks or something?"

With a shrug to Alastor, Lucifer sat down on the floor with his legs crossed as well. With a reluctant sigh, Alastor followed suit.

"So, what is Hell like?" Y/n asked eagerly, "Is it dark and full of bugs? It can't really be all fire and lava pits like all the art says. I mean, Dante's version of Hell makes more sense than that. Oh my gosh, is there a suicide forest? I always loved that idea, that they turn into trees. That they get the most peaceful of the options, is it real?"

"Well, there are trees." Lucifer began carefully.

"But they are not made of people's souls. No, it's actually rather close to this world down below." Alastor finished for him.

"Really? You guys have like jobs and stuff?"

"Some of us do. I am actually currently involved in a project helping to rehabilitate sinners. 'Check out of Hell and into Heaven,' that's the whole idea of the thing."

"Like you actually believe in that." Lucifer scoffed and Alastor raised a hand to his chest in false ofence.

"You... are you questioning my motives?"

"Not cool man." Y/n shook her head, "That sounds like a pretty cool project, I didn't even know something like that was possible."

Before Alastor could reply, Lucifer cut in.

"It is my daughter's project, and we aren't actually sure its possible yet."

"You have a daughter!? Is she the antichrist?"

"We-"

"Charlie Morningstar is her name." Alastor interrupted Lucifer, "And she is quite powerful. Talented too."

Lucifer turned to Alastor, glaring at him.

"Don't start this shit again."

"It's not my fault I've been there for her more than you have."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Sure it is."

At a sudden peal of bell like laughter from Y/n, the demons stopped their bickering and turned to her. She held a hand over her mouth as she tried to calm herself.

"Are you guys always like this?"

Lucifer and Alastor exchanged another look before nodding. Y/n lowered her hand, still smiling brightly.

"Maybe I'll ask you to stick around."

"You... aren't like a lot of other humans I've met in my time." Lucifer admitted.

"Strange and unusual."

"What?" Lucifer asked.

Y/n shrugged.

"That's how most people describe me. Strange and unusual. Or wonderously strange, if you ask my dad."

"Well, there is nothing wrong with that." Alastor hummed, "Strange and unusual is the best way to be. Keeps things interesting."

"Oh, no. I know. I didn't mean it in like a sob-story way. Just like, that's how I am. I don't know."

"Not a lot of people summon us. Especially not just to chat." Lucifer stated and Y/n smiled.

"What can I say, I was bored."

"You summoned us because you were bored?" Alastor repeated, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah. My friends were all busy and I love my parents but I do not love being around them on their Friday date nights let me tell you. The dancing is cute but the sword fighting when some old flame of my mother's shows up as they do every couple months? Terribile. Nothing blocks out the clang of steel against steel."

"Sounds like you come from a rather interesting family." Lucifer noted.

"Strange and unusual. I don't come from nowhere."

"Well, aren't you a gem in this dull world." Alastor mused and Y/n looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed again.

"I don't know about that, but I certainly try. Oh! Do you guys like bones? I don't know, is that a dumb question? Was it rude? Racist? Wait. Hell-cist? No that feels wrong too."

Lucifer chuckled slightly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I have a pretty big selection. Mostly deer bones."

Alastor's ears twitched.

"Deer bones?"

"Yeah." she nodded, "We eat a lot of venison at home and ever since I was a kid, my dad let me keep the bones to do projects with and the like. I have a lovely wind chime I made using parts of a spine but, sadly, its at my parents house."

"Strange and unusual." Alastor hummed.

"Strange and unusual." Y/n nodded.

----

A/N I was lowkey not sure how to end this one, I am sorry about that. I hope you liked it!!

[bekolxeram]

I'm usually very block happy, but sometimes a couple of hot takes from the opposite side of the fandom manage to slip through. I'm no saint, I admit I do get quite worked up at first, but after some time, I realize they give me new perspectives to scenes I've watched countless times and discover things I didn't pick up before. So this one is for all of you, staunch Tommy haters, thank you for enriching my viewing experience.

In 7x04, when Tommy goes to Buck's loft to talk things out, this line gives some people the ick, because it echoes what Taylor said in 5x05. In that episode, Buck thought his team was off because they blamed him for Chimney leaving. He talked to Taylor about it, she shared her own experience with her boss being sulky around her, and it turned out her boss was just in a lot of physical pain, she ended the conversation with "maybe not everything is about you". While what she said was absolutely right, and she made an effort to make Buck feel appreciated at the end of the episode, but I can also see Buck not feeling supported emotionally at the time the conversation occurred. In a fashion true to her profession, Taylor delivered it in a very blunt, direct and advisory way. Her being right did not cancel out Buck feeling insecure about everyone acting weird around him and him not knowing why.

What Tommy says here though, is in a a completely different context.

Before all of this, Tommy has already reassured Buck that he's not trying to replace him, that his place in Eddie and Christopher's life is irreplaceable.

Look at Buck's smile, he's apparently in a better mood than before. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

So going in this next part, Buck is more receptive to what he frankly needs to hear: Eddie isn't hanging out with Tommy because Buck did something wrong, he just enjoys Tommy's company.

We've witnessed Buck's growth over 7 seasons, now he can recognize that getting jealous easily is one of his character flaws, he tends to overthink and make other's action personal when he's feeling insecure in a relationship. He's telling Tommy this probably to signal that he understands he messed up and he understands what he did wrong. He never expected Tommy to validate his feelings.

But Tommy does empathize with his predicament.

Buck doesn't understand what Tommy, the cool, confident (and hot) pilot would be jealous over. And he almost can't believe Tommy gets what he's been feeling.

Tommy tells Buck that he's envious of the ride-or-die familial bonds within the 118 nowadays, as if he didn't also put his career and life in danger just to save Athena and Bobby (probably Hen's career as well), after one phone call from Chimney.

Now it's Buck's turn to reassure Tommy.

Another hot take I've seen from the other side goes like "if Tommy was nicer to Hen and Chimney back in the days, he wouldn't have to be jealous over what the 118 has now". You know what? Judging by Tommy's face here, he probably would agree. This is not the face of a man who is proud of what he did. This is the face of a man who is burdened by guilt and regret, this is a man haunted by his past, this is a man who doesn't think he deserves the praise.

Buck even cites fake mouth static as an example of Tommy's effort in aiding the 118's clandestine rescue mission, and they naturally fall into a flirty dynamic. I have no explanation for that, except, your honor, this is exhibit A against the "no chemistry" allegation.

Buck then spells it all out for Tommy that he also put everything on the line just for the 118, without hesitation. Tommy looks like he still has a hard time accepting it as an act worthy of redemption for his past behavior.

We've all made mistakes, and we all know we can't go back to the past and change what we did, so the best way forward is to change ourselves and be better. Judging by Tommy's "and [Gerrard] didn't make me a better person" line in 7x10, he quite possibly reflected on this a lot. Yet, sometimes you still can't help but doubt yourself over if you've learned enough from your past, if you're a good enough person now. I can't imagine how good it feels hearing Buck say out loud that he actually likes the person Tommy is now.

Apparently Buck likes Tommy so much that he came up with excuses just to hang out with him and get to know him.

Tommy is pleasantly surprised, because he did tell Buck to call him when he wants to go up. In fact, Buck can call him for whatever reason, Tommy accepted the Harbor tour request, there's nothing indicating that he would feel weird just hanging out with Buck. Tommy just doesn't know how much of a overthinker and bi disaster Buck truly is yet, but that's the story for another time.

Buck and Tommy really don't know much, if anything, about each other at this stage, as you can see in 7x05, but they're already validating each other's feelings. We've seen Buck get his feelings ignored, hurt, dismissed and kind of fetishized for 6 seasons, now this is something he's been looking for the whole time, for someone to understand what he's going through. At the same time, this interaction must also be quite freeing for Tommy, who's been haunted by demons from his own past.

[cjlouwho]

can you do a fic based on the idea that athena and tommy will team up to fly the plane to safety? idk if it doesn't really happen in the show, I'd love a fic version!

disclaimer: I know nothing about planes, nor do I pretend to. we're all just going to smile and nod as we read through this, just like we do when we watch 911. the idea for this fic comes from @mannafromtevan's theory, which is incredible and I hope is true! Also, while looking for the link to this theory, I saw where @bibuckkinard already wrote a fic based on this theory as well. I haven't read it yet, but everything they write is incredible and will definitely be better than this. Anyway, enjoy!

A small aircraft hit the plane. Co-pilot was ejected. The pilot enabled autopilot, but she's unconscious. There's no one to fly the plane!

That was the call that Athena had with air traffic control just after the incident. It had sent more than half of LA's emergency personnel to the nearest airport, the 217 taking lead on the operation.

Everyone was hovered around, listening as Tommy spoke to Athena and tried to get as much information as he could in what little amount of time they had.

“And you said a window was blown out?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. A window and then some.”

“Wide enough for a person to fit through?”

“The co-pilot did.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment. Long enough for Athena to come back over the radio. “Tommy? Are you still there?”

“I'm here, Athena. I'm thinking. Just hang on a sec.”

“Oh, sure,” she answered, the sarcasm in her tone was clear. “I've got nowhere else to be.”

Jameson, a pilot who'd been working with Tommy for nearly five years now, stared at him. He knew that face. “You have an idea.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah, I do.”

“How stupid is it?”

“It has potential.”

“To work?”

Tommy shook his head. “To be the dumbest thing I've ever done.”

*****

“You cannot be serious right now!” Buck exclaimed as Tommy strapped on his gear. The rest of the crew was working on the helicopter behind him, getting it ready to go as quickly as possible. Hen, Chim, and Eddie were there too, standing back while Tommy and Buck spoke.

“It's the best plan we're gonna get. It's the only plan we're gonna get.”

“It's not even a plan! It's a death sentence.”

“Not if I succeed it's not.”

“Tommy-”

“We've done crazier things, Evan. Like flying through a hurricane.”

“Intermittent showers,” Buck corrected. “And I'd say repelling from a helicopter and into a torn apart jet to try and land the thing when half the controls aren't working is a little crazier than flying through bad weather!”

Tommy placed his hands on Buck's shoulders. “Breathe, Evan. The rescue mission was fully approved by all proper authorities.”

“You sure you didn't fake mouth static your way into approval?”

Tommy gave him a look. “There might've been a few omissions. I cannot confirm or deny that though.”

“Tommy.”

“Hey, what's our motto?” he said, looking past Buck and pointing to the rest of the 118.

“Who cares?!” They chanted.

“Me!” Buck exclaimed. “I care!” He followed behind Tommy as he headed for the chopper. “Tommy, please don't-”

Tommy turned on his heels, nearly running straight into Buck as he did so. “Evan,” he started, his voice calm and assured, “If you knew how to fly, you'd already be up there.”

“But-”

“Am I wrong?”

Buck pursed his lips, eying Tommy closely before replying. “No.”

“I've gotta go. I will do my best to make it back to you, Evan. I promise that.”

That was it for Buck. He didn't care who was around. He tugged Tommy by his gear, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Be safe.”

Tommy nodded, giving Buck's hand a squeeze before running to the helicopter. Buck took a deep breath, holding back his tears as he watched them take off.

*****

It took time, and a lot of precision, for Tommy to finally reach the opening of the plane. There were a few close calls along the way, but once Athena had ahold of his legs, he allowed himself to relax a little.

“Good to see you, Athena,” Tommy said with a smile once he had successfully made it inside the plane.

“I'm not sure if good is the correct word to be using right now,” Athena replied. “But I am glad you're here.”

“Happy to be here.” Tommy disconnected himself from all the wiring he was attached to, guiding it back out of the hole so the helicopter could return to base.

Athena moved some debris out of the way, making room for Tommy to sit in pilot's seat. There were lights flashing everywhere, some repetitive beeping from alarms, not to mention the giant hole that was allowing wind to whip through the cockpit.

“What do you think?” Athena asked as he pressed some buttons, his face scrunched up tight.

He flipped a switch on one of the control panels, which caused the entire thing to fall off the dash.

“Well, that's not helpful,” he said, tossing it aside. “So, got any plans this weekend?”

She glared over at him. “Wasn't really thinking that far ahead.”

“I was thinking about taking Evan for a helicopter tour around the city... May be in bad taste now though.”

Athena sat beside him, a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. “Tommy, give it to me straight here. How screwed are we?”

He shrugged, keeping his focus on the controls that were still connected to the plane. “You believe in God?”

“I do.”

“Mind praying for us both then?”

“That bad?”

Before Tommy could respond, his captain's voice was coming over the radio in his helmet. “Give me a rundown, Kinard. What's going on?”

Athena listened as Tommy went through a (very long) list of everything wrong with the plane. He went over controls that were damaged, and the very few that weren't. She heard something about autopilot still working well, and something else about a manual landing, but most of it made no sense to her.

“I'm gonna need you to repeat all of that,” Athena said once he was finished, “but in a way I'll actually understand.”

He glanced over at her briefly, the plane jumping with sudden turbulence. Athena grabbed onto the the broken panel in front of her and Tommy focused his eyes back on the controls. “We're running low on fuel. We're gonna have to try to land after the next turn, and we'll end up dropping pretty fast. Basically, I can land us manually, but I can't promise the breaks will work.”

“That seems like a pretty important part of landing,” she deadpanned.

“I'd definitely say it's a favorite of mine.”

Athena took a deep breath before asking her next question. “And if the breaks don't work? What happens then?”

“There's a very high chance this thing will blow up if we can't stop by the end of the runway.”

“Oh dear God.”

“There is good news though.”

“Hm.” She eyed him skeptically. “What's that?”

“We won't feel a thing.”

“Oh, well, that's a relief. Don't know what I was ever worried about in the first place,” she replied sarcastically. “How much time do we have before you land her?”

“About ten minutes. Intercom system is out, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can you go make sure everyone has their seatbelts fastened?”

Athena headed back to the passengers. Tommy took the moment alone to breathe deeply and steal himself for whatever was about to happen. Part of being a pilot required confidence and, even if he didn't have much of it at the moment, he knew how to play the part.

Fake it til you make it.

He'd done that a lot over the years. It worked in a professional sense, not so much in a personal one.

A couple minutes later, Athena returned. “All buckled in,” she informed him as she went to sit in the co-pilot's seat again.

“It's actually probably better if you sit in the jump seat behind me,” Tommy said.

“Why? So when we explode my arm doesn't knock you upside the head for getting me killed? Nah, I'm good here.”

Tommy smirked. Even after working with Athena on and off for over twenty years, he'd never spent much time with her. The few dinners he and Evan had with her and Bobby didn't give them much time to banter back and forth. He'd have to make sure and change that once they were on solid ground. “Suit yourself.”

“Can I borrow your helmet for a second?” she asked.

“Sure.” He handed it over and she put it on, clearing her throat.

“Can I speak to Hen Wilson from the 118, please?” she asked over the radio.

A few seconds later, Hen was on the line. “I'm here, Athena. You're on an open channel.”

“Hen, Bobby isn't at the airport, is he?”

“No. He's on his way, but he hasn't made it yet. You want me to put him on with you?”

“No, no!” Athena answered quickly. “No. What I need to say, I can say to you.”

Tommy focused on keeping the plane steady while Athena spoke. It felt wrong to listen in to something as personal as a possible goodbye.

He took the time to think about Evan. The short but wonderful time he'd had with him over the past few months. They'd been the best of his life.

He briefly wondered if he should tell Evan that before he attempted to land, but he decided against it. Evan wouldn't need those thoughts running through his head for the rest of his life if they didn't make it out of this.

“Hey,” Athena's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She nudged his shoulder with the helmet. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

Tommy paused before taking the helmet back. “Go for Kinard.”

“Kinard, this is Buckley of the 118.” Tommy smiled at the sound of Evan's voice, even though he could hear it breaking ever so slightly.

“I hear you, Buckley.”

“I just, um, I wanted you to, um. Tommy.” He cleared his throat. “You've got this, okay? We're all down here waiting. N- Not a single doubt.”

“Good to know. No doubts up here either.”

He ignored the raised eyebrow look from Athena.

“Good. Um, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Evan?”

“I love you.” The words escaped him quickly, but with a confidence that wasn't there before.

Tommy smiled, his heart fluttering. He didn't realize he hadn't spoken until Evan's voice came over the radio again.

“T- Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head, blinking to rid himself of the tears in his eyes. “Chschschsch,” he said, bringing back his renowned fake mouth static, thank you very much. Athena stared over at him in confusion. “Sorry, Buckley, you're cutting out on me. You'll have to repeat that last sentence when I'm on the ground, okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan answered, and Tommy was sure there was a faint smile in his voice. “Yeah, o- okay.”

*****

About a minute later, Tommy was in position and ready to land. He got in contact with everyone on the ground, letting them know where and when he'd be landing. They were all getting into position near the runway, ready to help no matter the outcome.

“You ready?” Tommy asked as Athena tightened her seatbelt.

“Let's land this bastard.”

“Coming in for a landing.”

The closer they got to the ground, the shakier things got. Tommy held tightly onto the controls, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes from all the wind coming in through the hole.

They dropped rapidly, just as he expected they would. Athena kept quiet, and Tommy wondered if she was praying.

A part of him hoped she was.

As the runway got closer and closer into view, Tommy could feel every muscle in his body tightening. “Brace yourself,” he said a few seconds before they hit the ground with a thud.

Screams could be heard coming from the passengers, many of them crying or calling out to whatever god they believed in.

“We're going too fast.” Athena watched as they flew past all the emergency vehicles waiting for them.

“We're okay,” Tommy replied. Fake it til you make it.

They started to slow down, but the end of the runway was drawing near and it was becoming clear they would not be able to stop in time.

“Tommy.”

“We're okay,” he repeated, although it sounded more like a demand.

Athena could see the details of the signs at the end of the runway. “Tommy!”

Suddenly, Tommy turned the plane to loop around to the next runway. As he did, the wing hit a sign that flung backwards, eliciting more yells from the passengers.

The plan, or lack thereof, seemed to work. The plane slowed until it came to a stop.

They were alive.

They were actually alive.

Before he even had time to let it fully sink in, Athena was next to him, wrapping him in an unexpected, but very needed, hug.

“You might be clinically insane,” she said, both of them laughing from all the adrenaline coursing through their bodies. “But I'm so damn glad you are.”

“Why don't we get everyone off this plane?” he asked. “Then go see our guys.”

“I like the sound of that.”

*****

Athena and Tommy made sure they were the last ones off the plane. Athena spotted Bobby first. He had apparently arrived just before the landing and saw the whole thing. Tommy watched them reunite as his eyes darted around looking for his own person.

“It's been decided that I have the coolest, most badass boyfriend in the entire world,” a voice said from behind him.

Tommy whipped around to Evan standing there, arms already open wide, a bright smile on his face. Tommy practically fell into him. They held onto one another so tight that Tommy could have sworn they were melding into one.

“I was so worried,” Buck breathed out, his face pressed into Tommy's neck.

“I thought you had no doubts?” Tommy's voice was muffled against Buck's turnouts. He made no effort to move.

“Like you believed that for a second.”

After holding onto each other a little longer, Tommy pulled back just enough to look Buck in the eyes. “If I remember correctly, you were in the middle of telling me something when my radio started to go out,” he said with a smirk on his face.

Buck brought his hands to Tommy's face, his thumbs stroking Tommy's cheeks. “I love you, Tommy,” he said, and that confidence was back in his voice. “I really, really love you.”

“I love you too, Evan.” He pulled Buck in for a kiss, deep and passionate and filled with all the love they'd been keeping to themselves for the last few months.

The sound of a throat clearing had them, reluctantly, separating from one another. Bobby and Athena were walking up behind them, smiles on both of their faces.

“Athena!” Buck exclaimed, immediately going to her for a hug. “Are you okay?”

“All good,” she answered, “thanks to your man.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” Bobby said, bypassing a handshake and going in for a hug. “You saved a lot of lives tonight.”

He took a deep breath. “All part of the job, right?”

“I think you went far above and beyond the job tonight,” Bobby replied. "Probably have another medal in your future."

Buck's proudly returned to Tommy's side, their arms wrapping around each other's waist.

“You've got a good one here, Buck,” Athena said, patting Tommy on the shoulder. “You should keep him.”

Buck smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “That's the plan.”

[nmakii]

“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL KILL FOR ME ONE DAY?” YES, OF COURSE I WILL, MY DARLING.

— manipulating yan!alastor + yan!vox was easy. after all, he’s a huge softie for you.

— lots of cursing + sex mention! (vox)

— lol!! after u read voxxy’s part, did u notice i said worse instaf of wordt? im super good at eng! 😈😈

— yan!alastor

you’d been acting out at this club for some time now— breaking property, starting a fight, and even lighting a fire. that last one did it for the owner, he finally banned you from the place, kicking you out indefinitely.

unfortunate, since it was your hangout spot for all kinds of mischief. perhaps— just maybe, there’d be a way to weasel your way back in? or, if not that, at least make him suffer.

a sniff came from you as you teared up, wondering about where else to have your fun. “ohh, my darling, is something the matter? you can tell me, i’ll make that problem go away.” alastor said as he walked into the hotel’s leisure room, his hand patting your back.

you tried to get the words out of your mouth, but it was simply too hard to breathe with the tears that poured down your face. “take your time, my doe… it’s okay.” alastor cooed with a slightly patronizing tone, as if he was the one in control right now.

“s-some club-owner… h-he called me degrading names, and then… he kicked me out…” you frowned at alastor, sniffing every now and then. “my doe, what exactly did he call you?” alastor asked, his voice slightly losing the static as well as having a more sinister edge.

as you listed the names the man had ‘called’ you, alastor pulled you closer to him as his anger began to boil. “it’s alright, my darling. a club with an owner like that is not worth it.” he smiled widely, brushing your hair gingerly before he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“besides, you’ll never see this man ever again. say, what did you say the name of this club was?” he asked before you whispered the club name to him. “i see… well, my little doe, it turns out that i must teach this man a lesson.” alastor stood up as his anger manifested into his body, elongating his limbs.

“you’re gonna kill him on radio? just… be kind… no one deserves a painful death.” you frowned in fake empathy. that fake empathy which would motivate alastor’s anger even more. “oh, dear, you are just too kind for hell. this man disrespected your honor, it’s simply fair that he receives something equally as humiliating.”

his hand rested on your chin, kissing you one last time before he left to find this disrespectful sinner. “now, if you’ll excuse me… someone has to be taught some manners. i assure you, love, that i’ll return by… dinnertime.” he promised before heading out the hotel, prepared to rip this man’s soul out of his body and make an example out of him for any other sinner who even dares to disrespect his little doe.

— yan!vox

are you the problem? nah, couldn’t be possible. if you were the problem, you wouldn’t have this lovely man as your boyfriend, now would you?

“ugh, then that bitch fucking unfollowed me! i don’t even know what i did to that fucker.” you sighed dramatically, frowning to your boyfriend through the facetime. “honestly, i don’t even know what you saw in her. you’re better off without, babe.” vox shrugged.

“and!! you wanna know the worst part?!?” you yelled out, face scrunching in pure dislike. “and what’s that?” vox asked. “that little bitch is yapping all over the city about you and i.” you rolled your eyes.

“ah..? she is? what exactly is she saying?” vox grunted as he glowed in anger. ��she was ah… calling me your escort or whatever…” you scowled.

“tch, whatever! i’ll get over it— or, something.” you sighed, falling into your chair, as you closely eyed vox’s expression.

"aha... i'm glad you can let things go so easily, dear... now, i’d love to stay in call a bit longer, but i really have to take care of some important business right now." vox grunted, flying a quick yet lovely kiss to you before he ended the call.

okay, none of that happened— at least most of it didn’t happen. that girl... she was just pretty fucking annoying, always whining about how badly she wants to get fucked, jesus... close your fucking legs for once, yeah?

to be fair, on her own part, she was quite powerful. so, killing her yourself wasn't exactly a good option. instead, why not get your boyfriend to do it?

best case scenario, vox kills her, nothing else. worse case, vox simply hypnotizes her into selling her soul to him. ugh, imagine seeing that bitch's face everyday.

then again, you'd see her all sad and pathetic everyday cause she sold her freedom away.

either way, it's not looking too well for her.

[bucksboobs]

Tell me about the hot pilot

“So…” Maddie smiles, like a proud mother if Buck’s being honest and she shimmies like a big sister. “Tell me about the hot pilot.”

Buck ducks his head. What is there to say besides what he already has? Tommy is interesting, he’s confident, he has a cleft. “He’s just…” he can’t stop smiling already. “He’s.” Maddie is smiling too. So big and bright. “He’s amazing Maddie.”

“Ok so how did this,” she waves her hands at Buck’s general (lovestruck? Too soon for that. Infatuated) Infatuated demeanor, “all happen?”

“Right, so remember when I was acting like a teenage girl?”

“And you nearly broke Eddie’s ankle?”

“Right.” “That night, after Tommy got Eddie back from the hospital I was like…” he sighed to admit it. “Sulking, because I felt like I had both lost my best friend and make an absolute fool of myself in front of Tommy and Chimney. He shows up at my door, and he looked so handsome Maddie, he has these beautiful blue eyes.” Maddie laughed a little. It wasn’t cruel. She was enjoying Buck being smitten. “And he’s as tall as me but somehow wider. It’s.” He stops himself. He isn’t sure how far he can push it but it’s hot. He thinks Tommy’s hot (not that anything will happen there now but Tommy still is hot). “It’s very attractive.

“You can say he’s hot, Buck.”

“He’s so hot, Maddie.” He huffs it out. It feels good to say to anyone. “I fucking blew it, but he’s so hot.”

“He might come around.” She offers.

“I said we were going to go look for hot chicks after the movie. He’s gay.” Maddie sucks her teeth. Yeah. He’s not getting out of this that easily.

“But anyway. He comes over and we’re talking and he’s telling me how he’s not trying to replace me. That Eddie and him aren’t pushing me away. He tells me that Chris can’t shut up about me.”

“Wow so he’s a smooth talker.” Maddie says.

“So smooth. And—and my heart was beating so fast. I could hardly breathe and I thought it was just because I was tense but.” He takes another deep breath. “So I tell him I’m sorry for being jealous and he says he was jealous too.” Which Buck still struggles to believe but Tommy was jealous of him and Eddie and Hen and Chim.

“Of…?”

“The 118. He was there for a long time but it wasn’t a family and now it is. You know I think of Bobby as more of a dad than I do our actual dad.”

“Which is fair.” Maddie admits.

“Anyway I tell him that he is a part of the 118. That he saved Bobby and Athena with us and he made stupid fake mouth static.” Buck’s head falls as he remembers it all over again. “And I start like actually flirting, telling him how I wanted to get to know him and thought he was cool and I wanted his attention.”

“Wow.” Maddie says, again.

“Yeah.” He says sheepishly. “Wow.”

They laugh together, brother and sister, free and happy. It feels like something they should have had a long long time ago.

“I tell him you said that there are better ways to get someone’s attention and he. He fucking kissed me.” It plays again in his mind. “It was so sweet and tender but like forceful and confident and… sorry.”

“No no go on!” She puts her chin on her hands on the counter.

“I feel like he rebooted my entire code. Like I went from Windows 98 to Windows 10 or whatever the current one is. It was amazing and.” Buck sighs. Maybe he is a little lovesick. “He asks me out.” It’s a little bittersweet knowing that the date Tommy asked him out on ended so embarrassingly but his memory of moment was still honeyed and saccharine. “Just like that. He asks me if I’m free Saturday and I jumped at it.”

“I bet.” Maddie’s glued on smile becomes a little wry. “Sounds like he did a number on you.”

“And I blew it.” Buck pouts.

“Hey, don’t count yourself out yet.” Maddie says. Reaching her hand to touch his shoulder. “My little brother is a charmer, he’ll be thinking about you for a while.”

“Thanks Maddie.” Buck says. “This was nice.”

“Oh I am very experienced in talking about boys. We do it again some time.”

“Let’s.”

[kinardsevan]

for a thousand years (and a thousand more).

“I don’t think you get it, Evan. This isn’t something that started after a failed date for me.” Tommy’s voice is soft as he drums his fingers gently against the back of the couch, inches away from Evan’s where he’s sitting across from him. They'd just been talking about when things had started shifting between them, realizing they were interested in one another. Evan insisted it was during fake mouth static. But Tommy disagreed.

“No?” There’s a hint of a smile on Evan’s face; that look he gets when he’s genuinely curious about what’s going on in Tommy’s head or why feels a certain way. 

“No. I was already falling in love with you when you showed up for the tour at Harbor.” His voice is soft, rasped by the nerves of admitting something so vulnerable out loud. 

Evan doesn’t respond. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t have the words to respond to the volume of open honesty about god’s to honest real love directed towards him. Something he’s certainly had come up in past relationships, but it’s never felt like this. It has never been this honest, deep, clear…easy. 

“Falling in love with you was like waking up in the middle of October after being asleep for years,” Tommy continues. “Like I’d been stuck in this endless state of sleepwalking, and then I walked into you. And suddenly the world had air, and color, and meaning. And I just kind of realized, ‘oh’.” 

Evan shakes his head in these small, almost imperceptible movements as tears fill his waterline and he bites the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes drop to where Tommy’s index finger is brushing lightly over the first knuckle of Evan’s. 

And he wants to find the words to match Tommy’s, to tell him that everything in his chest feels exactly the same way, but they’re all dead in his throat because he’s not sure there are words that can match what the man he’s in love with has just said to him. 

Evan pushes up from the side of the couch where his hand is still resting, closing the space between him and Tommy until his knee is between both of Tommy’s, his other leg straddling over Tommy’s right leg on the outside of the couch as he slides his hand around the older man’s neck, just under the base of his skull and he sinks down into him, meeting Tommy’s parted lips with his own as Tommy’s hand comes up to his ribcage, holding him in place.

It’s so simple, the way their mouths sink into one another. Lips taking on lips, tongues sliding gently into the other. Passion being met on a level that has nothing to do with tearing clothes off, and everything to do with the fact that by some miracle, two hearts managed to match one another’s at the same time.

He doesn’t want to let go; just wants to remain in this moment and never have it end. But time doesn’t work like that, and Evan eventually sinks back, still on his knee, leg still straddled over Tommy's, but seated once more.

Tommy’s hand slides out from its space on Evan’s rib cage, up around his shoulder and to the side of his neck, brushing his thumb lightly back and forth on Evan’s jaw line. The tears clinging to his waterline finally fall, running fast down the side of Evan’s cheek until it slides over Tommy’s thumb. 

Evan pulls his left hand from behind Tommy’s head and lifts it to where Tommy has his on Evan’s jaw, still staring deeply into the brown-haired man’s eyes as he slides his hand off his neck, down to the center of his chest. Tommy watches the movements of their hands until they come to rest over Evan’s heart. Steady, but pounding. He looks back up at the blonde. 

“Oh.” Evan repeats back to him. 

Tommy gives a small nod, the quietest of sighs slipping past his lips as his expression softens. 

“Oh.” 

[ofspacecrafts]

Didn’t know if I was going to wade into this territory but you know what , why not ?

I have thoughts about why Buck & Tommy are so appealing to some of us (me) , more than Buck’s other relationships.

I’m going to break it down .

Abby

Abby is introduced first on the show , so the audience has a connection with her. I like Abby & having familiarity with Connie Britton made me like her more.

I enjoyed Abby’s relationship with Buck at first.

I liked both characters separately so on my first watch as a casual viewer of a new show I was like ok this is cute but that’s all it was.

I didn’t really feel chemistry there.

But they never compelled me. I was indifferent to her leaving and wasn’t sad to see their relationship end. (Only felt bad for Buck)

On my rewatch , the relationship felt weird to me. I’m not sure if I was biased knowing how it ended or not but I enjoyed it less the second time around.

Ali

The flirting was cute but we didn’t see enough of them actually together.

Her character existed to be saved by Buck and date him . When it’s obvious that that is a character’s role and they don’t have any individual arc, it doesn’t create a relationship I care about.

I appreciated her honesty in why she broke up with him instead of ghosting or leading him on.

But it was a half hearted portrayal that I don’t think anyone expected to be endgame .

Taylor

Taylor and Buck actually had some chemistry. I loved their flirting and their banter.

I don’t hate Taylor the way a lot of people do.

I thought she was an interesting character and liked how they played off each other.

Taylor was fleshed out and a real fully developed character and I enjoyed her arc.

But as Buck’s love interest I think the seed was planted early on that her ambition would always come first.

And honestly, after he kissed Lucy I’m not sure I blame her?

There was some chemistry but it still wasn’t ever enough for me to root for them .

I wish they stayed friends because I did love their dynamic.

Lucy

There’s not much to say here except that I actually think Buck and Lucy had great chemistry and if their relationship started differently and the show had decided to go that direction when she was introduced I definitely could’ve seen myself rooting for them .

Natalia

Honestly her character just felt so flat to me and it was very very obvious she was filler.

There was no chemistry and I never considered her a legitimate option.

Which brings us to Tommy.

To be honest, before my rewatch I didn’t even remember who Tommy was. So watching 7x03 I thought he was brand new.

He was compelling right away, on his own . The deadpan humor, the fake mouth static , flying into a hurricane for his friends.

In 7x04 right away I was like wait… are they flirting ??? The chemistry was so there.

We find out about Tommy’s interests , see little tidbits of his personality throughout 7x04 culminating in the conversation at Buck’s apartment and the kiss.

The way 7x05 and the date was handled was so interesting to me. The situation was so well thought out and the way we see Buck act here is something I don’t think we’ve seen since Abby. Buck acknowledging his feelings in a very real and nuanced way.

Ever scene Tommy was in from 7x03-05 made me want to get to know him as a character, separately from his relationship with Buck .

In order to actually care about a relationship you have to care about both characters separately first !

The chemistry during their kiss and the coffee scene is so so strong.

Viewing it all again under this lens, knowing who Tommy was and is, honestly made me like him more . Seeing a character grow and change to be able to build better relationships is so entertaining!

The hugs in 7x06 and that kiss just attest to the insane chemistry Lou and Oliver have .

[holidayslinger]

so i've seen plenty of buddietommy fic/meta where it's bucktommy bringing Eddie in, but not much with buddie bringing Tommy in. what's a way you could see that happening?

i think, there's a world where buddie is already canon in season 7. they meet tommy and both of them are instantly a bit starry-eyed over this hot pilot. eddie because they have all of these things in common, their military past and all the things they enjoy. buck because of the dumb fake mouth static and the cleft. and they talk about it and honestly, they're not even sure if he'd be interested.

it starts with eddie hanging out with him. just being friends and he doesn't have an ulterior motive but when they're hanging out he does you know - gauge things. or whatever. and then meanwhile buck still calls for the hanger tour. so they just, you know. make a friend. and tommy is like hm. not trying to get between this couple but their kid even likes him so it's fine and then eventually they all hang out together.

maybe it starts with a night where they all have a bit to drink and wind up in bed and tommy is like oh fuck i am not just gonna be this married-whatever-not married but married couple's fun little thing because tommy wants to find LOVE he wants a RELATIONSHIP and they're clearly just into him because he's hot so after they sleep together he kind of backs off a little and eddie and buck are like wtaf because they thought it was good! they hung out with him and he met their son and why isn't he into them anymore and he's not even returning their calls.

so lets say this is also a world where chim's bachelor party/madney's wedding goes according to plan and chim is not tormented any more. so they invite him to chim's bachelor party and the party actually happens. so when tommy arrives it's actually kind of fun and there's karaoke and little mini burgers and the two of them are hanging off of him a little making him the center of their night and even chimney keeps giving the three of them looks.

when tommy ends up having to leave for work buck gives him That Look like please come to the wedding, we promise it'll be fun, and we told chim we were bringing you and eddie nods like yes *we* and tommy just nods and says he'll do his best but he's a little confused because it sounds like a date and not just a proposition for another threesome.

so the next day tommy doesnt make the wedding but he gets there just in time for the first dance and buck and eddie see him and rush up to him and group hug like oh god you made it and then he's like yeah, i did. so they chat a bit and at a point he's just like look, i don't really know what this is but i don't want to be some, like, sex toy thing you guys are using because you're having problems or something and buck and eddie look at each other and burst out laughing because they???? problems???? no and they're like tommy kinard we just LIKE you and we've been trying to DATE you for WEEKS and he's like oh. cos the thing is tommy isn't STUPID and he sees how it all could look like that but also he's not trying to make assumptions or get between a relationship like there, you know?

anyway they laugh fondly and pull him onto the dancefloor, both of them, and everyone else is like wtf when did buck and eddie get a boyfriend but everyone just shrugs it off and tommy gets his romcom with two really hot dudes.

that got away from me.

[literaila]

the tour

tasm!peter x gn!reader 

summary: 

"...and this is where i slipped on that ice and got that bruise that went all the way down my back and turned green before it healed--"

"ugh, peter, don't bring that up."

warnings: fluff, it’s literally only banter because i forgot what the point of this was, catch the psych references, teasing 

a/n: you’re welcome, shawn spencer 

*

peter made you put on this jacket. 

the jacket which is, at the current moment, inhibiting every single one of your senses. 

your arms are locked in the puffy material, and when you try and turn, your whole body must follow to make it possible. your eyes and ears are covered by the hood--overbearing and completely unnecessary--causing you to only hear the static of the material every time you shake your head, and to only see blimp gestures of light. peter when he waves a hand in front of your face. 

because, as previously mentioned, you can't see nor hear and he hasn't quite caught up to that fact. 

oh, and, of course, he zipped it all the way up so you're snacking on some metal which you're hoping is the zipper. 

"where are you?" peter is asking as he pulls the hood away from your head, giving you just a brief moment of fresh air. 

you just grumble, trying to push it off of your head. 

"c'mon, you're gonna get cold." 

"it is literally forty degrees out here," you say, between mouthfuls of polyester. 

peter is smiling--indicated only by the slight snicker he makes as he unzips your jacket. 

and then you can actually see his grin, his silver-lined eyes. 

"it's winter," peter insists, pulling your hood back up. "let's not take the risk." 

"i'm going to suffocate in here." 

"don't worry, i know cpr." 

"how long did it take you to come up with that line?" you ask him, rolling your eyes. 

peter is teasing you. 

you're looking up at him, he's leaning over you, a mere inch away, when you slide your hand to the zipper--pushing his out of the way--and pull it the rest of the way down. 

and then, as you take off the jacket, you definitely do not hit peter with the sleeves. 

"there," you say, smiling. "that's better." 

you're in a t-shirt. 

"you're going to freeze." 

"i choose that over asphyxiation." 

peter throws his head back, and then swings an arm around you, almost burying you in his skin. 

but he's awfully warm. and he smells like soap, and some scent of deodorant you probably bought for him. 

so, clearly, you try and push yourself away from him. 

"why didn't you choose a different jacket?" peter asks you, not even budging when you push at his chest--sometimes you forget how strong he is, if only for his cowardly lion tendances. 

"um," you say, offended and under his arm, looking up at him. "i distinctly recall someone demanding that he 'picked out my wardrobe for the evening.'" 

peter doesn't mind the air quotes you're making near his stomach. 

"i didn't say it like that," peter claims, frowning at you. his eyes are very close to yours. 

he has this fake intimidation tactic he likes to try out every time you mess with him. unfortunately, he looks more like a child throwing a tantrum when he furrows his eyebrows like that, with little crinkles on the side of his forehead. 

and also his eyes are always a bit too bright. 

"you really did. you even had the accent." 

"this is a surprise," peter reminds you, "which is why i decided what you're wearing." 

"you chose the jacket at the very back of my closet, peter." 

he shakes his head. "if you don't want to wear it, then why do you own it?" 

"it's for smothering people." 

speaking of that, you pull the jacket up to his face, laughing when he begins to cough, and finally escape his hold. 

you leave him with the jacket, cringing and glaring. 

"this smells like mothballs." 

"i think there's a mouse in the pocket." 

peter opens his mouth, looking down at the jacket, then back to you. 

he doesn't say anything. 

and you laugh--you smile at him like a child, like a little kid getting to play with their favorite toy. you turn away from him and start walking again. 

"you're such a gentleman," you say, as peter catches up. "holding my jacket and everything." 

"you forgot the part where i tried to prevent your death." 

you tsk. "if you were so worried about me being cold, why didn't we do this earlier today? you know, when the sun was out?" 

peter shakes his head. "it's not the same." 

"and by 'it's,'" you repeat, leaning into him, "you mean...?" 

and then peter smiles, a reflection of yours, another child desperate for the warmth of someones love. another kid that's just happy to be there. 

you blink and take a deep breath in, trying not to look away. 

"the tour," peter says, simply, and looks away for you, but slings his arm around your shoulder and trips along with you. 

"of what?" 

"new york," peter scoffs, because obviously. 

and you're about to question him, but then you bump into another couple, and peter begins to apologize for the both of you. 

he also starts a ten-minute conversation with these strangers. 

*

"well, they were nice," peter says, as he locks his hand with yours and obnoxiously swings your arms around. 

but his hand is warm, and he's still carrying your jacket, so you'll give him this. 

"you did that on purpose," you retort, snorting. 

"did what? be nice?" 

"changing the subject so you didn't have to explain any more of your brilliant plan." 

"okay, first of all," peter says, looking at you through his peripherals. "if you hadn't bumped into sarah we wouldn't have had to stop in the first place--" 

"--maybe if you were better at actually guiding this so-called 'tour--'" 

"and second of all, it's still a surprise. i'm not telling you anything." 

"i think that counts as kidnapping." 

peter rolls his eyes. "not when the person you're kidnapping still has a bruise from the hickey you left a week ago when--" 

you push his shoulder. "i get the point." 

"are you sure? cause i can keep proving it." 

"just lead the way, peter," 

he's still smiling. and you're still pursing your lips, searching for some string to tie them together. 

"of course, sweetheart," he says, "follow me." 

*

"...and this is where i slipped on that ice and got that bruise that went all the way down my back and turned green before it healed--" 

"ugh, peter, don't bring that up." 

he grins. "and you rubbed some type of lotion on my back before we went to bed, trying to pretend like you hated every moment of it--" 

"that was literally bruise cream." 

peter shakes his head, he's looking away from you but smiling fondly at the ground. "good times."

"you falling and almost getting a concussion is a fond memory?" 

"my head wasn't even near the ground." 

"are you sure?" 

peter gives you a blank stare. 

"'cause you have been acting different since then, a little bit weirder, maybe even more reckless--" 

and then peter digs a finger into your side, stepping behind you so he can get a better grip to trap you in his arms. 

"mhmm," peter whispers, breath on your ear. "keep going." 

"don't--peter, i swear--" you squirm as he tickles you, trying to get away from him. 

"no, really, i'm listening, baby. you're voicing some obvious concerns, and i'm all ears."

"and hands!" you say, leaning your head back in an attempt to headbutt him. 

but peter moves back with you, and when your eyes open, you're looking at a brilliant grin and two very cruel eyes. "oh, hey," he says, moving his hand--finally--so he can keep you there. 

"i don't appreciate you doing this in public." 

"there's no one here." 

"correction--i don't appreciate you doing that ever." 

"you were laughing," peter assures you, rubbing a hand up and down your shoulders, pretending to comfort you. 

"i was screaming for help," you argue, "there's a difference." 

"well, if you weren't such a smart ass--" 

"me?" 

*

"i think you should come with a warning," you say to peter, watching him sip at the boba you just bought for him. 

"hmm?" 

his hair is messy and his cheeks are red. his mouth is its own threat, with its smooth and intoxicating manner, the ability to steal the breath from your lips, and your chest, and attack you until you can feel nothing but his name in your mouth, on your skin. 

all in all, you have to look away. 

"like some kind of user discretion. 'warning: will eat all your snacks and cling on to you like some type of kola.'" 

peter continues sipping, just staring at you. his brows are raised and his nose is crinkled. 

he is too calm and collected and you kind of want to jump into his arms and steal all of his warmth. 

"'likes to wake you up in the morning by biting on your nose, and lays at your feet while you're trying to get work done.'" 

"are you describing a cat?" 

you scoff, hand to your chest. "peter, i would never insult the feline species like that." 

"do you want a sip?" he asks, nonchalantly. 

"where are we going?" 

"well, you wanted drinks, so we're off course." 

"you wanted drinks. you said that it was ignorant of me to not treat dehydration as a serious condition--" 

"i've heard it both ways." 

you pout, tilting your head up at him. 

"ah, don't do that," peter complains, rubbing his eyes. 

"do what?" 

"make that face." 

"i'm not sure what you're talking about," you say, grabbing his hand so you can wrap it around your waist, and nuzzle into his shoulder. 

"is this because i got the popping boba instead of the tapioca?" 

"no--but that is an offense i will deal with later."

peter sighs. 

you're still looking at him, attempting to keep your face as smooth and innocent as possible. 

"okay," peter relents, "what do you want?" 

you feign confusion. "i don't want anything," but as you say it, you look over to the flashing lights you can see in the corner of your eye. 

then you look back to peter, and you smile at him, teeth white, eyes wide. 

"what was that?" 

"what was what?" 

"that look. that suspicious look over like i wouldn't notice you staring at the--" 

and then peter groans, and he slouches towards the groan. 

"what?" you ask him. "see something strange?" 

"why are you so mean to me?" 

"not sure what you mean, but it might be the strange curve of your nose. it's a bit alarming." 

"if you want pretzels," peter says, almost scolding you, "you just have to ask." 

"but you'll say no." 

"yeah, because that guy hates me. and coincidently--" 

"--he loves me." 

peter sighs into you. "can't we go somewhere else?" 

"peter, it wouldn't be a proper date without stopping by to see the pretzel guy. and maybe flirt a little." 

peter glares. "his name is paul and he's very unpleasant." 

"to you, maybe." 

"do we have to?" 

"you're telling me that you don't want one of paul's famous pretzels?" 

"...no?" 

you smile at him, ruffling his hair. "c'mon, pumpkin, maybe he'll give you his number on the receipt this time." 

and, although with a huff, peter follows you, holding onto your hand.

*

after an entire night of walking around, getting lost around corners that you've definitely never seen before, and watching peter struggle with the stem of the cherry from your sundae, swearing he can tie it--he begins to walk the two of you home. 

any other night, you might ask him to swing you both there. you might whisper in his ear until he slings you over his shoulder and you're breathless when he pushes the both of you through the window to your bedroom. 

but tonight, you and peter have deigned to freeze to the bone. 

you're walking towards your complex, toes gone and nose twitching, but peter is holding onto you, his hair is tickling your ear, and you've got a hand under his shirt. 

so, honestly, it's not that bad. 

"how'd you like your tour of new york?" peter asks you, after a couple of minutes of silence. 

"you know i live here, right?" 

peter leans forward, eyes wide. "what?" 

you roll your eyes at him and pull him back down so you can lean against his chest again. 

"you had fun though?" 

"it was okay. paul makes everything worth it." 

"paul is going to mysteriously disappear one day, and we'll have to find a new pretzel cart." 

you point a finger at him, frowning. "bad, peter. don't threaten people behind their backs." 

"hear me out," peter continues, "paul accidentally gets three of his wheels stolen during a bank robbery... probably sometime around next week." 

"he can buy new tires." 

peter looks up--which is good, because he can't see you grinning at him--and then nods. "okay, new plan, we buy all of the available yeast in new york." 

"and do what?" 

peter shrugs. "does it matter?" 

"yes." 

"fine, we'll start a bakery." 

"all of this so that paul can't continue to practice his pretzel business?" 

"do you have any better ideas on how to teach paul some boundaries?" 

"give me some one-on-one time with him," you tease, whispering  it on peter's jaw. "we'll figure it out." 

peter leans back. "that's not funny." 

"it is a little." 

"it's really not," he says, staring at you until you break, and you're both grinning at each other again. 

you can barely feel your mouth, chest constricting every time peter blinks, and aren't quite sure where you are anymore. 

but you're glad you asked him if you could walk home. 

peter leans down, his nose against yours, his breath making you shiver. "thank you for coming," he says. 

you can feel it. 

"thanks for carrying my jacket," you return. 

"you owe me," peter breathes. 

you lean back, just so you can open your eyes and look at him, taste his mouth without moving forward. "how's a kiss?" you ask him. 

and peter tries to hide his grin. there's a beat of silence where he pretends to consider your offer. "i suppose that's alright." 

and when you kiss him, it's with freezing blue lips and a smile that has been pulled onto your face. 

and you can't stop smiling, even when peter leans your head back, causing you to go on your tip-toes to reach him. 

even when he spews his poisonous breath into your mouth. 

even when you feel his jaw clattering against yours. 

and you're smiling when you pull away. 

"good?" you ask him. 

"mmm, you might have to keep trying."

you laugh and kiss his cheek. "c'mon, baby, pick up the pace." 

"got big plans?" peter asks you, pulling you into him again as he begins to walk. 

"i have my own tour for you when we get home." 

and peter almost starts running.

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch​ @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff​ @hollandweather​ @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan​ @valvlry​ @imthatcoolmom​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  

[some-little-infamy]

Tommy, Bothered and Bewildered

(Read on AO3)

Tommy isn’t sure what to expect when he knocks on Evan’s door and asks if they can talk, he just knows that he has to say something, because things can’t keep going on the way that they currently are.

He’s seen the friendship that Evan and Eddie have, and he has his suspicions that it might run deeper than anyone else knows about, at least on an open level. That isn’t something he’s willing to get in the middle of.

But he doesn’t want to stop spending time with them, either. He wants to teach Evan how to fly, and grab that beer with him sometime. He wants to keep going to fights with Eddie and spend some more time around that great kid of his.

None of that is going to happen if he doesn’t clear the air about the building tension they’re all feeling. In a way, he’s glad it all came to a head at the basketball game. That gave him an excuse to bring it up without feeling weird about it, like he was assuming anyone cared about him any more than they did.

“Can I get you something? I still owe you a beer, right?” Evan offers.

“No, I’m good. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to clear the air and I didn’t want to do it over the phone or in a text or something,” Tommy waves the offer off. He has a shift after this, anyway. But the truth is that he wanted to see Evan. He wanted to be here, to look him in the eyes, and swear that he knows what Eddie means to him. Promise that he never meant to get in the middle of that.

Of course, there’s more to it than that. Tommy would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he hated having to turn down that first offer to go out for drinks, even if his plans for the fight in Vegas were huge, because honestly? If he knew the offer would be on the table he would’ve given up the tickets in a heartbeat. There’s just something about Evan that draws him in, that makes him want to know more.

But that isn’t why he’s here, not really.

They have the talk, awkward at moments but a relief in the end. Tommy apologizes, and surprisingly, Evan takes full ownership of the way he reacted as bad behavior on his part. Tommy doesn’t know much about Evan, but he feels like he knows enough to know that that’s a pretty big deal for him to admit.

  “I mean it’s not like I could ever replace you. Christopher would absolutely have something to say about that. That kid cannot shut up about you,” Tommy tells Evan. What he doesn’t tell him is that Christopher didn’t shut up about him because Tommy practically barraged the poor kid with questions, trying to get anything he could about what Evan likes to eat, or what he does on his days off, or what music he listens to. Fortunately and unfortunately, the answer to all of that is usually whatever Christopher asks for, which unfortunately left Tommy with little useful information, and fortunately left him even more endeared with Evan.

Then everything happens so quickly. Evan moves closer to him. He jokes about fake mouth static. They’re laughing, and sharing looks, and… Jesus, did Evan’s eyelashes just bat at him?

“I just wanted to get to know you,” Evan says finally, and Tommy’s breath stops entirely.

“Yeah?” Tommy tries, and fails, not to sound surprised. He thinks he made it pretty clear he wants to get to know Evan - the hangar tour, the raincheck on drinks, the fact that he drove all the way here today for a conversation that absolutely could’ve been a text - he isn’t hiding anything. He just hadn’t been so sure about Evan’s side of it until now.

And then the talk circles back around to Eddie. Eddie’s great. He’s a good guy, they have a lot in common, and yeah, they’re pretty good friends… but that’s it. Eddie’s in a relationship, and as far as Tommy is aware, straight. Tommy wouldn’t even think about seriously flirting with him, would never dare to cross that line. But with Evan…

There’s no doubt in Tommy’s mind now that Evan was flirting with him back at the hangar. He asked for a tour when he wasn’t seriously planning on learning, the hopeful look in his eyes when he asked Tommy out for drinks… there was something there and it killed Tommy to not be able to explore right away. He’d hoped…

…and there it is again. That damned hope.

“Just… trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting.”

“My attention?” He thought… well, he suspected, wondered really… but maybe he was just reading too much into Evan and Eddie’s friendship.

Buck is rambling now, mentions of maiming his best friend and talks with his sister, but Tommy barely processes any of it before making up his mind on what he wants to do next. He drove here, across town before a shift, through Los Angeles traffic, not just to see Evan, but to see what potential relationship - friendship or otherwise - Tommy could salvage after everything that went down.

Tommy closes the small space between them, giving Evan just enough time to back away. He brings two fingers under Evan’s chin to lift it, and when there’s no resistance Tommy leans in and kisses him. He waits, reading every push and pull of the muscles under his touch, but Evan only leans into the kiss, bringing his own hand up to Tommy’s arm.

When Tommy pulls away and takes in the look of astonishment on Evan’s face, he knows he made the right decision.

So when Tommy has to leave - and he has to leave, because if he goes in for a second kiss he isn’t sure there’s any force in the universe that would be able to pull him away with enough time to get to his shift - he makes sure Evan knows that he wants to see him again. And again. And again.

Starting with Saturday.

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER TWO: SOUND Word Count: 3,725 words Warnings: Mild swearing

Two months after you turn twelve, you watch your first horror movie.

“What a wimp,” Atsumu sneers, looking down from his nose at you. “Twelve and ya haven’t seen a horror movie yet? Me and ’Samu have already watched loads of ’em.”

“They’re not that scary,” Osamu adds through a full mouth. He’s already chipping away at the cheddar and caramel popcorn, fingers sticky and cheeks puffed full of salty and sweet. “You can see how fake they are.”

Fake, indeed. You glance at the TV. With all the lights shut off and all the blinds closed, the sun having set hours ago, the Miya’s old television set is your sole source of light. The DVD menu flickers before your eyes, a white, windowless room with a single mirror in the middle. Muffled static creeps out from the speakers and into your ears.

You shift discreetly in your seat, then look back at the twins. The cold light from the screen paints their faces ghostly pale.

You clench your fists and shrug impassively.

“Then let’s just watch it already.”

Osamu grunts in agreement. On his other side, Atsumu scowls.

“Don’t know why we gotta babysit ya on movie night,” Atsumu grumbles, reaching for the remote and selecting the Play Movie button. “Not like ya can’t be at home by yerself.”

Perhaps you should thank him for his rudeness this time, since it disrupts the tension enough for you to kick his ankle underneath the kotatsu.

Over the years, you’ve come to terms with the fact that Atsumu does not like you. This is compounded by the fact that Osamu does; of the few ways that you can tell the twins apart, nothing stands out more than their reactions upon seeing you, one turning towards you, the other turning away.

It’s funny how they balance each other out so completely. Osamu may be your soulmate, but Atsumu knows exactly how to get on your nerves.

“You’re the one who needs to be babysat!”

“Says the one who –”

“Can ya both shut up? It’s starting.”

You stop short at the dull prickle of annoyance from Osamu. From the way Atsumu screws up his face, halting his preparation to rear back and slam his feet into yours, he feels it too. The two of you glare poisonously at each other before settling in and letting the title sequence play without interruption.

I won’t get scared, you tell yourself as you reach out to grab a handful of popcorn. You toss a few into your mouth and the crunch of them between your teeth softens the uneasy sound of rolling waves coming from the TV. It’s all fake. Osamu said it’s not that bad, so it’ll be okay.

—

You should’ve known better.

Your room is completely silent as you look up into the void where the ceiling should be, muscles stiff and eyes wide and unblinking. The blankets are pulled up to your nose. It had taken a long time for the bed to warm up to your body, the only thing providing you with some semblance of safety, but it had taken only a matter of minutes before you found yourself agonizingly uncomfortable and sweaty.

You wish you’d kept the door open, but leaving isn’t an option. If you expose so much as a toe, the long-haired woman from the movie might crawl out of the darkness in the corner, stare down at you with a demonic eye and kill you on the spot.

(Telling yourself it’s not real doesn’t work. Because what if – what if –)

In the midst of trying to keep your breaths as quiet as possible, thoughts thundering around behind your eyes, the doorknob turns with a soft click.

“Oi.”

You jolt as if electrocuted.

The yellow beam of a flashlight shines upon your bed. It takes a moment to process everything, but once you do, relief floods your lungs.

“What?” you whisper back, peeking over the covers and squinting through the light.

Osamu and Atsumu crowd your doorway, shoulder to shoulder. Their bodies are nothing but shadowy figures until Osamu turns the flashlight to shine it at his hand, which is raised to show you a deck of cards.

“Wanna play Babanuki?” Osamu asks.

Your mouth parts.

Yes, is what you yell in your head. Anything is better than being all alone in the dark.

“Okay,” is what you say out loud, and the boys shuffle into your room.

You crawl out of bed. Atsumu closes the door behind him, and it is then that you notice the blanket underneath his arm. The three of you settle on the floor in a circle and he tosses the blanket over your heads.

Ah. It’s so the light doesn’t shine underneath the door and get you all in trouble for still being up.

“How’d ya know I was awake?” you ask while Osamu shuffles the cards on your right.

Osamu pauses to glance at his brother, and they seem to communicate something before he shrugs and answers you.

“Just knew.”

“Knew you’d be too scared to go to sleep,” Atsumu taunts quietly.

Your face heats up. “I wasn’t! ’S … ’s just too hot.”

“Liar,” both drone simultaneously.

You wither, lips protruding in a pout.

Osamu begins to pass the cards out. He’s steady and unhurried, three messy piles of cards building up as he goes around and around.

“… How come you guys are still up, then?” you finally mutter, drawing your knees up to your chest.

“Didn’t feel like sleepin’.” Atsumu picks up his pile and sorts through it. “’S too boring after watching a movie.”

Liar. The thought pops into your head unbidden, and you’re surprised at the certainty of it. The twins had jumped and screamed a few times during the movie, sure, but they get over things quick enough as a general rule and had seemed fine by the time the end credits rolled by. The image of them lying awake, terrified in their bunk beds like you had been in your own, is quite the odd thing.

But you do not voice that aloud.

(Babanuki doesn’t need three players.)

Osamu’s knee nudges your own. You look up to meet his eyes, and he holds his cards out towards you, face down.

“Choose one,” he says, and you do.

—

“[L/n]-chan, I have a question.”

“Mmhm,” you acknowledge distractedly, scribbling in the answers for today’s English homework. It’s less than ten minutes before lunch ends, and you had completely missed the other side of the worksheet. (Panicked, barely legible answers are better than none at all.)

Miki watches you carefully, fidgeting in her seat. “Is it true that you and Osamu-san aren’t really soulmates?”

You don’t even pause to think.

Even four years later, you’re faced with this same question from your peers. You fault Atsumu for this, who, despite having stopped outright denying the red string connecting you and Osamu, does nothing to clear the confusion except to say that he’ll always know his brother better than anybody else. Osamu doesn’t seem to give much of a crap, either. You’re the one left explaining things over and over again for some reason, and it gets tiring.

“No, we are.”

“Are ya sure? Even though Osamu-san has Atsumu-san?”

“Yeah,” you say. “We don’t really talk about it.”

More people are trailing into the classroom, including the twins, who had gone off earlier to intrude on Ojiro-senpai’s lunchtime. Despite your efforts to signal that it’s not the best time, Miki scoots closer to you. She’s silent for a few moments and then speaks once more, whispering now.

“Do … do you and Osamu-san actually like each other, [L/n]-chan?” she asks.

This time, you do stop.

It’s easy to feel sorry for Miki. Her name often comes up when your classmates are discussing soulmates – she had met hers during the first week of school, a popular senpai on the baseball team. Their timers went off at the same time in the cafeteria line during lunch.

According to the rumors, Matsuda-senpai told her off. He was graduating this year and didn’t have time for a soulmate two years below him, or something like that. Miki had cried in front of the whole cafeteria.

You do feel bad for her in that regard. Osamu and you may not be best friends, but at least you are on good terms. And despite Atsumu’s antagonizing behavior, he really is just a pest at worst.

“I like him,” you reply. “He’s easy to get along with.”

“But he’s already soulmates with Atsumu-san, and they’re twins. A-And ya don’t eat lunch together every day, even though ya always walk together n’ all,” she presses. “Are ya really okay with that?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly.

Miki doesn’t seem to like your answer. But it is the one you have, and you have to finish this stupid worksheet before the bell rings, so you turn away slightly and scratch at your paper. You hear her finally retreat back to her own desk.

When you glance up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Osamu shooting a rubber band at Atsumu. Atsumu yelps and scrambles to retaliate, and you hear a snap as his attack backfires and hits him in the face.

You cross your ankles underneath your desk and fill out the last blank on your worksheet. There aren’t any mistakes when it comes to soulmates. But each time someone comes up to you and asks that question, you wonder anyways.

—

On the walk home from school, Osamu and Atsumu talk about volleyball.

This is nothing new. There are many things that the twins enjoy, but volleyball is usually at the top of the list, and they always have something to say about it – about drills, their teammates, upcoming games. Most of the time, though, it is about themselves.

You don’t know how the conversation came to it, but they are arguing within a matter of minutes, which is also nothing new. No two siblings are more competitive than the Miya twins. It’s both entertaining and annoying, and you take Osamu’s side every time.

“I’m just sayin’ that you’re sloppier, ’Tsumu.”

“Sloppier?! Yer sets were off, like, half the time today!”

“No, they weren’t.”

“Yuh-huh!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“See ya tomorrow, [Y/n]-chan,” Kokomi tells you as you arrive at her house, and you nod, stopping just briefly to wave goodbye. She doesn’t bother bidding goodbye to the twins, who are too engrossed in their bickering to even notice. “Our packet for math is double-sided, so don’t forget.”

“… I won’t,” you mumble sheepishly.

She waves once more, then saunters down the pathway to her front door.

Turning to see that Osamu and Atsumu are now further away, having left you behind, you frown and jog slightly to catch up.

“If ya really are the better setter,” Atsumu is saying once you’re within earshot, his voice rising, “then prove it! Vertical sets, last man standing wins.”

“We only got one volleyball at home, moron,” Osamu retorts. Then he tilts his head, and you nearly miss a step, surprised, when he suddenly turns around to look at you. “You have one, don’t you, [Y/n]?”

Even after four years, you’re not quite used to him using your first name without an honorific. “Yeah,” you reply, attempting to keep your tone from sounding too flustered.

Your dad had gotten you one after the twins mentioned their interest in volleyball during an awkward joint family dinner not long after you’d met them. It’s important to support your soulmate’s hobbies, he’d told you, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to be a bit more athletic, anyway.

You like volleyball just fine. It’s one the more enjoyable sports to play during gym, but it hasn’t got a hold of you quite like it has on Osamu and Atsumu. Still, the volleyball remains in your room, pumped up and ready to be played around with when you feel like it.

“We’ll just borrow it for a bit,” Osamu says. “Wanna judge?”

“Aw, c’mon, ’Samu,” Atsumu complains. “We don’t need a judge. Why’s she gotta be there?”

The sharp reply in your throat is cut off by Osamu.

“’Cause we’re using her volleyball, and I want her there.”

You blink.

A bitter expression crosses Atsumu’s face. Then he knocks his head back and groans. “Ugh,” he says loudly, but for some reason, he does not push it further.

The three of you part ways when you reach your house. You head inside, text your mom to tell her that you’re going to the Miyas’ for a little while, drop your school things off in your room and grab your volleyball, and head back out.

Miya-san tells you that the boys are already in the backyard when she lets you in. Sure enough, when you walk out into the small strip of land behind their house, Osamu and Atsumu are waiting there, already disputing their previous setting records.

“Here,” you announce, tossing your volleyball to Osamu.

He catches it easily and meets Atsumu’s eyes, narrowing his own.

“Standing vertical sets, no stopping,” Atsumu says as the two of them move further apart.

“Loser gets first dibs on the PlayStation for the next two months,” Osamu adds.

“Deal.”

Your eyes track your volleyball as Osamu raises it over his head, perching it onto his fingers with a kind of firm delicacy that makes the ball look perfectly at home.

And without words, without even looking at each other, the two boys begin at the exact same time.

You sit on the chair next to the potted plant and watch them idly.

They really are mirror images of each other. The same concentration wrinkles their brows, their jaws set. You’ve heard from members of both the girls’ and boys’ volleyball teams that Osamu is the better player by a slim margin, but here, with them facing each other and the volleyballs’ soft tap tap taps hitting your ears in a syncopated rhythm, you admit that it’s very hard to tell.

Really, you do not need to be here – Atsumu’s right for once, because the twins have a scary awareness of their surroundings when it comes to volleyball, and one will certainly catch the other if he fumbles.

The competition goes on for a long, long time.

“Gettin’ tired, ’Samu?” After what seems to be hours, Atsumu breaks the silence, shaking you out of your daze.

Osamu scoffs. “You wish, ’Tsumu.” Though his voice is steady, you notice that he’s breathing a little harder, and his sets are getting higher.

Your own wrists are starting to cramp. How long have they been doing this now?

A few more minutes plod by.

Then – finally – the volleyball lands off-kilter on Atsumu’s fingers. You sit up, eyes widening as it bounces off to the side.

A curse flies out of Atsumu’s mouth as he dives after it, but to no avail. It lands on the grass and quickly rolls to a stop. He’s lost.

“You lose,” you say, because you feel like being petty.

“Shaddup!”

“Guess I’m still the better setter.” On your left, Osamu continues setting the ball. There’s a grin on his face now, and you know that he’s doing this purely to tick Atsumu off. “Bet I can break my record.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu gripes, picking up their volleyball and standing up. “Stop showin’ off!”

Osamu ignores him.

What happens next would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t so horrible.

Fuming, Atsumu tosses the volleyball up. It ascends in a perfectly straight line, and as it falls back down, he winds his other arm back and spikes the ball straight at Osamu.

Instead of hitting Osamu, however, it slams straight into your volleyball right as it’s descending. Thud.

All of you watch, frozen, as your volleyball flies up and over the wall into the neighbor’s yard.

None of you say a word for a good five seconds.

You leap at Atsumu, fully intending to throttle him. “Ya idiot!”

“I didn’t mean to!” he shouts back, struggling to escape your grip. His hand presses flat against your face and you have half a mind to bite it off. “Let go!”

“Stupid ‘Tsumu,” Osamu hisses. “That’s Akiyama-san’s yard!”

Upon hearing the name, the two of you still.

Everyone on your street knows Akiyama-san. He’s old and crochety, and he walks with a cane that he lifts high above his head whenever he’s shouting at any of you because he hates kids. Everything your parents have hammered into your head about greeting your elders sails right out whenever you spot him walking down the street. Nobody says it, but you’re all afraid of him. Even the Miya twins.

The worst thing about Akiyama-san, at least at this very moment, is that he has a dog – a big, mean one, even meaner than its owner. A dog who, as you, Atsumu, and Osamu find when you peek over the wall, is thankfully nowhere in sight at the moment.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Do we ask Akiyama-san to get it for us?” you whisper, eyes glued on your volleyball nestled in one of the bushes.

“Are ya dumb? If he doesn’t kill us, he’ll just feed the ball to his dog,” Atsumu shoots back.

“Atsumu,” Osamu says, and you look over to see him staring ahead with his chin resting on top of the wall. There’s a serious tilt to his mouth. “Go get it.”

“… Hah?!”

“It’s yer fault,” you argue.

“Well – well”—Atsumu glares at you, then at his brother—“’Samu’s the one who was settin’ it!”

“Still yer fault,” mutters Osamu. “I ain’t riskin’ my life.”

“So you’re riskin’ mine?!”

You shift uncomfortably, their quarreling fading away as you consider the options. Your volleyball is a nice one. Not cheap at all. Your dad would be quite upset if he found out you sacrificed it to Akiyama-san’s yard, and he’d probably make you go apologize and ask for it by yourself.

Swallowing, you hoist yourself up.

“I’ll get it.”

The noise the twins make is nothing short of a hushed squawk as you clamber over the wall.

Your shoes land softly on the grass. Scanning the yard, you nod to assure yourself that it’s empty, then glance at the dog door built into the back door. It doesn’t budge. You look up at the windows. All the blinds are shut.

Further emboldened, you move your gaze to your volleyball, tiptoeing towards it and picking it up gently.

Success.

Smiling, you face the twins.

Their faces have gone pale.

Your smile fades as a soft growl pierces the evening air. Looking over your shoulder, you lock eyes with Akiyama-san’s monster dog.

Drool drips from its jowls, teeth large and sharp and yellow, eyes beady and black. You’ve no idea what breed it is. All you know is that it is there, and it is huge and angry.

It probably dreams of eating kids, you think, blood draining from your face. You’d be a full course meal with the volleyball as dessert.

Osamu whispers your name.

You turn again, sweat dripping down your forehead, and see him perched on top of the wall, knees bent and arms outstretched towards you as if he were in a volleyball match. The red string on his pinkie drifts in the breeze.

Throw it, he mouths.

You inhale. Tighten your hold on your volleyball. Then you launch it towards Osamu and sprint towards him.

The dog lets out a thundering bark, running after you. You can hear the tags on its collar clanking against each other. Its giant paws flatten the grass beneath it.

Osamu catches the volleyball and tosses it at Atsumu.

You jump, and you swear you feel jaws snap at your heels.

“Osamu!”

He grabs you by your wrists and throws his weight backwards. Your legs scrape against the concrete wall as the boy hauls you up and over it, sending both of you tumbling headlong into their yard.

When you come to, your mind feels fuzzy, body shaking with adrenaline. Beneath you, Osamu groans. You hastily roll off him to lie on the grass.

“Thank you,” you pant.

Osamu gulps for breath. “’S nothin’.”

Behind the wall, the dog continues barking.

“What the hell!” Atsumu cries, and you crack your eyes open to see his face pop into your field of vision. “Do ya have a death wish or somethin’?”

For the first time, Miya Atsumu actually looks concerned for you.

“No.” You prop yourself up onto your elbows, wincing at the ache in your shoulder and the stinging on your knees. You glance at them. Yikes. They’re all scraped up. But despite all of it, you feel a grin spreading across your face. “I just ain’t a wimp like you.”

He gawks, then sputters.

“Nice receive, ’Tsumu,” Osamu says. He gets up with a grunt, then helps you up. His arm slides underneath yours and across your shoulders. “You can walk fine, right?” he asks you plainly.

“Yeah. Kinda.” You’re still a bit trembly.

He nods. His hand remains steady on your shoulder.

As the two of you start ambling towards the house, Atsumu says your name.

Guilt twists his features in an unfamiliar way when you look at him. He lowers his head slightly, eyes averted.

“… Sorry,” he mumbles, looking for all the world like he’d rather wrestle Akiyama-san’s dog right now.

You regard him. “’S fine,” you say, slowly.

(In the back of your mind, you realize that it really is. All your anger must’ve fizzled out with the run.)

The boy’s expression doesn’t change, but his shoulders slump a little, as if relieved.

“Let’s get the bandages from bathroom,” Osamu mutters while Atsumu slides the door open. “But we gotta be quick, ’cause if Ma –”

“If I what?”

For the third time that day, you all freeze in place. It’s an interesting sight – you and Osamu with your arms around each other’s shoulders, Atsumu with both volleyballs in his arms. The shadow of the twins’ mother, falling over the three of you.

Ah, crap.

Miya-san’s gaze flickers downward at your scratched-up legs. Her face goes through more emotions than you can count, and then it stills.

She takes a deep breath, but the twins beat her to it.

“It wasn’t me!”

—

prev | next

[h50europe]

9-1-1 Buck/Tommy - Undercover

(one shot)

Tommy, who occasionally works for the DEA, is unexpectedly handed an undercover assignment. In need of a partner, he turns to Evan, who eagerly agrees. For Evan, this is a chance to spend more time with Tommy and get to know him better. However, the assignment brings unexpected feelings for both of them, adding a tense layer to their relationship as they try to conceal their emotions.

The events in this story occur after Tommy and Evan's tour at Air Operations. Unlike in the original version, Evan and Tommy have no heart-to-heart conversation. As a result, they both struggle to keep their emotions hidden from each other.

The door closed behind Evan, and his heart sank. He decided to go straight to the bar. Every couple he passed on his way was either making out, doing drugs, drinking vodka, or a combination of all three. Evan swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. The hands of strangers were all over his body as he pushed through the crowd, caressing or tugging at his clothes. Going undercover with dangerous bikers hadn't been a good idea. No, not the Hells Angels. These guys were much more dangerous. They were part of 'The Corporation,' Albanian mobsters of the worst kind. Their life was based on daily races, lots of drugs, drinking vodka like water, burning rubber and money like there was no tomorrow. Once you joined this exclusive circle, you couldn't back out or buy your way out. Those who tried ended up in a body bag in the morgue or vanished. Whether it was an accident or a suicide, ninety-nine percent of the time, it was murder.

Evan was worried about how effortlessly Tommy fit into this group as if he had always been one of them. Was it the adrenaline rush because of the all-present danger of being uncovered? Evan couldn't tell. But he had to admit he also felt a kind of excitement comparable to what he felt during one of their riskier cases. He had mentioned it to Tommy but claimed he was playing a role. Really? Evan thought Tommy was so incredibly convincing that he deserved an Academy Award.

As Evan walked, some of the looks he received were kind, some were not, but most were possessive and hungry from women and men alike. He hoped to make it to the bar in one piece. His heart was already in his throat.

The only person Evan could blame for his misery was himself.  He thought it would be a good idea to spend some time with Tommy. This cool guy he adored. The guy who had flown a helicopter into a fucking hurricane and made fake mouth static to the fire chief. The guy who took Eddie on a quick trip to Vegas to watch a fight. Eddie, well, he was in Texas now, trying to make amends with Christopher. But back to Tommy. Tommy, the guy who occasionally worked undercover for the DEA. This job wasn't supposed to be complicated. Evan was involved because he resembled one of the guys the DEA had caught at the airport. Tommy almost played himself—a pilot. And Evan played his mechanic. Their job was to get their hands on the next shipment, one of the biggest in months, worth half a billion.

Evan's sass faded a bit. He knew that to some of these guys in the club, he was nothing more than fresh meat - a very attractive piece of fresh meat. But Tommy had made it clear: hands off Evan. And Evan had loved how possessive Tommy had been of him.

Sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip as he finally reached the bar. He ordered a Jack Daniels. Glass in hand, he turned to face the crowd. Before he knew it, the crowd parted, and there he was, Tommy, on the dance floor, becoming one with the pounding rhythm. His face was turned towards the ceiling. Evan blinked. For a split second, Tommy looked like a god—a god feeding off the energy of this place. A satisfied smile crossed Tommy's face, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Then he shook his head as if to clear his mind.

Evan gulped down his drink. Every time Tommy moved, the black leather pants hugged him tightly, accentuating his perfect ass and muscular thighs in a way that made Evan's mouth water and his cock rock hard. Now he knew for sure. It had been his worst idea ever to join Tommy on this undercover mission. He was experiencing feelings so pure and so false at the same time. READ MORE ON AO3

[lottiecrabie]

choose your own smut adventure. part seven – matty healy

previous. start.

You hesitate. There’s a fluttering book of positions in your head, more a dirty collection of fantasies than a concrete list. Matty features in all of them. You blink at him, overwhelmed with choices. He tightens his hold around your hand, forcing you to consider him. His hair is sweaty and unruly, his lips swollen and sticky wet, his eyes dark and piercing. He looks like your favorite renaissance painting; artful, historical, mythical. 

Your eyes greedily devour him. You part your lips, moaning confessionally, “I want to ride you.” Now that the thought sprouts out of your mouth, an excited thrum reverberates through you. It is pleasing just to vaguely imagine behind your eyelids. You don’t want him, you need him. 

Matty makes a little choking sound, but he snaps back quicker than your bold blowjob demand. He doesn’t even faux-humbly make you repeat yourself, pretending to hesitate, to barter. He sees in your hungry gaze that there is no uncertainty in your words. 

“I want you to ride me, too,” Matty whispers. You shiver at his tone, gravely and dangerous. 

He bends down to kiss you. His hands tangle in your hair, stealing the breath out of your mouth, making you lightheaded. Your mind fizzles as you grasp at his shoulders. Your limbs buzz with pleasure like TV static. You spread your legs wider, trying to get some friction going. 

Matty grabs a handful of your ass and makes you grind against his hard cock. You gasp, your mouth leaving his, and roll your head on the pillow. It’s a sinfully delicious feeling; he chuckles lightly in your neck. 

But you don’t want to lay there and take it like usual. You want to blow his mind, change your life. You push on his shoulders, rolling the both of you until you straddle his lap. 

Matty’s curls spill on the pillows. His hands settle on your thighs, spreading wide on the skin. He looks up at you, happy and proud, worshiping. You straighten your back; his eyes fall to your tits. You snort. Still just a man. 

Now that you’re up there, you’re not quite sure what to do. It seems like an overwhelming endeavor, and you feel a ping of pity for all the men in your life who had to have been responsible for both your pleasures, unsuccessful as they were.

“I don’t—” You flush, looking away. Matty frowns at you. “I’ve never— done this. I don’t know how.” 

“Well,” he smiles indulgently, rubbing his thumb on your skin. “It’s a good thing I’m meant to teach you, isn’t it?” 

You chew on your lip, still a bit worried. “It might be bad,” you warn, just in case. 

Matty laughs at that. “I promise it won’t. And, hey, if it really, really sucks, we can switch and try again next time.” 

Next time rings in your head like holy words. You smile down at him, saccharine sweet. “Alright.” Your hands travel from his waist to his chest. Faint hair peppers it. “What do I do?” 

Matty is overexcited, jittery. He paws at your thighs, your waist. You roll your hips into his like he showed you, creating sweet friction that makes you hold back a moan. “Oh, um— Condom first.” 

You still above him. “I’m on the pill. And clean. You?” 

Matty‘s eyes widen. “Yeah—” He tries to fake nonchalance. “Yes. I got tested recently.” Though his fingers dig into your waist, possessive, he still pants out a, “Are you sure?” 

You nod fervently. You’ve never needed someone more than him, never felt raw desire for a man like this. You want all of him, deep inside of you. You can’t wait anymore. You might go totally insane.

You raise on your knees, gripping his cock and lining it up. He groans at the contact, bucking into your hand. “I’m sure,” you breathe. Slowly, you lower yourself on him. 

A strike of pure, hot pleasure goes through your body. You whine at the intrusion. Your cunt throbs around him, and it makes him groan too, practically clawing at your skin. You’ve never felt more right, more complete. 

Your head falls forward to look at him. You can’t stop those pathetic little pants from your mouth. “What now?” You say, but it’s more a high-pitched plea than a real question. 

Matty moans, settling his hands over your hips. He takes a moment to gather his leaking brain, make sense of the two words you asked him. “Just— Just roll your hips like this.” 

His hands move you on his cock, a raking motion that makes your clit hit his pelvis. You mewl on top of him, scrunching your face shut. “That’s it,” he encourages, even if you have yet to do anything. 

When you finally grind on your own, Matty lets go of you. He scratches down your thighs instead, clenching and unclenching his hands like he’s physically stopping himself from taking charge, puppeteering you. 

You giggle a little at this, trying your sloppy rolls, mix-matching the rhythm and sense to figure out what feels best. Ecstasy pools in your belly, pressing against your stomach. You feel loose on your bones. 

But it’s still not enough. Tentatively, you rise up your knees, sliding him out of you to crash back down. Pleasure jolts you. You’re electrified. You make a little surprised scream. Then do it again, and again, chasing that pure bliss. 

“Does that feel good for you?” You ask, looking at him with a worried little frown. He looks euphoric enough, parting his lips with groans and panting in the hot air. Sweaty and flushed and beautiful. 

Matty nods loosely. He’s just as slack as you, just as gone. Good. At least you don’t feel so silly. You speed up your moves, bouncing on his cock. “And this?” You say, but it’s just to tease. The desperate grunt is indication enough. 

“I don’t care either way,” he says. “Just use me.” A powerful thrill shoots up your spine. You fuck him harder, faster. You want to ruin him. “Fuck,” he cries. “I need you to come on my cock.”

“I will,” you pant.

Your knees are growing sore, but you persist, bucking on him until your brain drips down your spine. You want him deeper into you, want him buried so far you never forget the shape of him. 

Your hand rests on his shoulder and you hold yourself up as you lean into him. Your hips angle differently, hitting a new spot over and over. You roll your eyes. 

“Take it,” Matty moans. His hands grab your ass. “You’re so fucking hot.” The praise sings to you. You make a little whine. 

The position quickly grows too tiring. You straighten up again, rolling onto his cock. Matty follows after you this time, sitting up. He paws at your bouncing tits.

You hook your arms around his neck and use him as leverage to push yourself up again. Matty twists your nipple as a silent prize. Those breathy pants in your ears make you lose your head. 

You bite your lip. Your head falls back, baring your throat. Matty takes the opportunity to kiss there, licking and biting and sucking. Claiming you. Your back shivers. You buck on him faster. 

Your eyes shut as pleasure rushes you. It’s all too intense suddenly, feeling him and seeing him. You’re desperate, the end so near you could taste it, yet too gone to properly do anything. Your thrusts are irregular, your hips grow sloppy, and your thighs strain every time you move. 

Matty licks off his bruise. He must feel your diminishing stamina because he breathes, “You take my cock so well.” You nod at him, slack and gone. “You’re doing so good, baby. Just a bit more.” 

To help, Matty slides a hand between your bodies, rubbing at your swollen clit. You gasp. Your head swims in ecstasy, heavy and off-kilter.

He wraps an arm around your waist, grounding you as he fucks into you, following your movements in tandem. “You were fucking made for me,” he whispers in your neck. Kisses it. “I need you to come on my cock now.” You nod, brainless. “Can you do that? Can you come for me, love?” 

“Yes,” you hiss, scrunching your face. You practically strangle his neck with your embrace, using his shoulders as leverage as you buck on him. His finger on your clit doesn’t relent.

“Come for me,” he practically begs. “I need to see you. I need to feel you.” Your hips shudder. Pleasure waves through you, building and building. One hand takes your cheek. “Look at me.” 

You snap your eyes open. His dark eyes meet yours. He’s so intense, so fucking desperate. You whine, he swipes your clit, and you come. 

Your head falls into his shoulder and you give up, letting go. Ecstasy washes you and you don’t bother even grinding into him. Matty holds you up, fucking into you and working through your orgasm as you shake above him, weightless, boneless. You moan his name even after you’re done, like you couldn’t quite believe it was him. 

Matty slows down to a stop, still inside of you. He kisses your shoulder. You laugh, disbelief spinning with the hot bliss. There’s something you want to say, instinctively, but you bite your tongue. 

You raise your head finally, coming back into the world. Matty grins at you, proud and fucked out. You frown at him. “You haven’t come.” You gasp at the realization, trying to slide up him even through your screaming, sore thighs. 

Matty laughs, pulling you back down on him, stopping you. “It’s okay,” he assures. His eyebrows rise suggestively. “There’s something I want to try anyway.”

You cock your head. “What?”