#playing two men having locker room talk about how one of them did or did not fuck some girl

[voxmilia]

one piece of media that will never ever leave me and also no one knows about is the play after juliet

[amymbona]

What if Dilf!Art was put into the ballet instructor au?? Like After the tennis match that Art and Patrick had, that hugged confirmed a friendship again. Of course Art and Patrick retired, tired of the pressure tennis put on them, the pressure of being with Tashi. So Art and Patrick remained close friends, living close to each other, having their daughters be friends. When Patrick put Eleanor into ballet classes Art thought it would be good for Lily to something different than her dad and mom did. So both of the girls had ballet classes, being in the class, being taught by the same lovely ballet teacher. Now Patrick was the one who absolutely fell in love with her first, if we’re doing timelines. He talked about her to Art, and he really didn’t think anything of it, because he didn’t pay much attention, not when he would go picking up his happy daughter with her arms interlocked with Eleanor’s as they skipped towards him and Patrick. But when the ballet teacher spoke softly to Art about Lily’s improvements in ballet he immediately understood Patrick’s obsession. She was so soft and caring, so youthful, it was something Art definitely needed throughout his life. Art thought the same things Patrick did, that she was the one who could probably take away all of his problems, all of those days he’d eat such bland food for his tennis diet, pushing himself so he could make Tashi proud, doing anything for Tashi but nothing was ever enough, she wanted good tennis and he wanted love. (IM SORRY, I WANT BOTH MEN)

Okay so this is actually fucking insane 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

You don't even notice their growing affection towards you, especially Art's. You've known Patrick for quite a while and so you're used to him being, how to say it... friendly. Really fucking friendly. Subtly touching you, complimenting the way you treat his darling daughter and make sure she gets to develop her talent.

And poor Art is feeling completely distressed, as if he wasn't capable of even half of whatever Patrick can do. He tries to joke with you and you respond equally as softly, even giggling at some of his silly jokes. He thinks you're an angel, but he's also afraid you like Patrick more. At least you don't make any decisions considering the kids, because you've been treating his Lily as if she was here since the beginning.

Art brings the topic of you once, when the boys are alone, which is the first time that it happens (as Patrick was usually the one to rant about you).

"She's really pretty."

"Who?" Patrick asks without looking up from his phone, probably thinking he's talking about some random celebrity.

"Lily and El's ballet teacher," Art mumbles.

Patrick teases the living hell out of Art that evening. And he makes sure to pay attention to his blonde friend's behaviour the next time they go to pick their girls up from practice. A pleasant discovery is made when Art stutters as he attempts to respond to something your say and his cheeks heat up like two full strawberries. Yeah, he makes fun of it.

But it also gets poor Patrick worried, considering everything that has happened over the last fifteen years... When Art got chosen by Tashi and favored by the whole tennis industry. The cutest one of the two. And considering your own softness and the ethereal aura of your being, he's thinking you might choose Art over him.

Without knowing or ever discussing it, the two friends become jealous of once another, or rather afraid, both of them finding themselves so deeply attached to you. Two confident men who used to be so smug and full of themselves are reduced to worried babies that can't help but feel neglected.

Luckily, their smart girls pick up on their dads' distress. Unaware of the reason, they play detectives and they dump their suspicionw on you. When you're talking with Art and Patrick the next time while the girls are changing in the locker rooms, you bring that topic up.

"The girls told me that you two have been having some issues. They said that you look worried. Is something going on?"

You speak to them like you're an angel sent from the heavens above, they really both want to drop to their knees and cry until you decide to be merciful enough and take them into your arms. The little frown of worry on your face and the crease between your brows are enough to send both of their hearts beating faster.

"Worried?" Patrick asks with a casual chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Do we look worried Art?"

You asshole, Art thinks, shooting his friend a glance. "I- I don't think so. Perhaps we're just getting older. A mid-life crisis, you know."

A giggle from your mouth gets them both to tremble on their feet.

"Okay, okay, I won't pry," you assure them with a nod and that beautiful smile of yours, "But if you feel like talking to someone, don't be afraid to reach out."

You pat both of their shoulders delicately, Art just ends up glancing at you with an open mouth as you move while Patrick has to physically prevent himself from grabbing you and stopping you from walking away.

Later in the evening, when their girls are asleep, they discuss your existence over the phone. Luckily, still on the best friend wavelength, they both come up with the same ideas. Somehow getting you close to them, closer than a normal ballet teacher should be to her students' parents, especially a father. Especially two fathers.

[bbrissonn]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡

☆⋆｡°‧★ in which dahlia and will can't stop talking to each other

☆⋆｡°‧★ will smith x dahlia monroe

☆⋆｡°‧★ wc: 2k

☆⋆｡°‧★ au masterlist

‎‧₊˚✧[ OCTOBER 20, 2023 ]✧˚₊‧

when dahlia got back to her dorm room, she stared down at the new contact in her phone for probably ten minutes wondering if she should text the blond boy or not. she wanted to, she really did, but she just did not what to say. she choose to just wait for the boy to text first, after all he was the one with her number written on his hand.

dahlia went on with her night, doing her skincare routine as she listen to her music, trying her hardest not to constantly look at her phone to see if he had texted. 'his phone his dead' she kept reminding herself when the only message she got was from violette wishing her a good night.

it wasn't until she girl was about to go to sleep that the boy messaged her. it was just a simple hey :) yet the girl found herself kicking her feet slightly as his notification popped up. if violette were here right now, she would probably die of laughter at the smile plastered on her best friend's face.

dahlia

hi (:

will

thanks again for helping me

dahlia

no worries

honestly it was a little

embarrassing watching you

spin around in circles

i had to do something

will

wow

im wounded lia

dahlia

you get hit by grown men

and your ok

but a little teasing

and your hurt??

you're softer than i

thought smith

will

oh so yk my last name

wonder how that it

dahlia

oh-

good night.

will

good night :)

it was safe to say that the girl fell asleep with a wide grin as her mind played her encounter with the boy over and over again.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

the next day, dahlia found herself sitting in the same exact spot for the third time now. violette was next to her again, but this time her boyfriend was with them. dahlia did not know him very well, but she knew he was treating her best friend perfectly and that's all the mattered to her.

"something weird is going." violette mumbled to her boyfriend, alex, as she watched her best friend share a small wave with the blond freshmen.

the two had spent pretty much the whole day texting one another, beginning with will texting her good morning. the two got to know each other, their favourite colours, favourite movies, music taste, favourite meal, all the question that could be asked were asked. granted, will looked up his question online, but the effort was all that mattered.

dahlia had never been so attached to her phone before, always having it open as she waited for the boy's next message. even on his way to the rink, he was still texting her, and same for her, making her almost bump into a boy twice her height. that was also something that violette quickly noticed.

as for will, his attachment to his own phone did not go unnoticed by his friends either. when gabe had woken up that morning, his best friend was already awake, smiling down at his phone, which he pretty much spent the whole day doing. it also was noticed by his teammates in the locker room.

will was normally always locked in the second he got into the rink, barely ever looking at his phone. but today, he could not go more than a feet away from it, feeling the need to always check if dahlia had answered him.

"you guys all saw what i saw right?" gabe asked his fellow freshman as they all stood in front of the bench. the warmup was ending in less than two minutes and will had decided to make his way back to the locker room. of course, as he made his way down the tunnel, a wide smile was stuck on his face as he passed dahlia.

"he's so whipped." ryan laughed as they all started making their way down the tunnel as well. they all could not help but look at will's mystery girl, who was typing away on her phone with a smile that mirrored will's.

unsurprisingly to any of them, when they arrived in the locker room, the blond freshman was also silling down at his phone. the boys all exchanged smirks before going to their stall and finishing their pregame rituals.

"jeez man, you know it won't run away from you." jamie chuckled as he sat down in his stall next to the freshman. everyone had noticed how dependent of his phone the boy had been, and they were all waiting for someone to bring it up for them to really dig into the poor blond boy.

"huh?" will asked, looking up from his phone and over to his teammate. by then, pretty much everyone in the locker was looking at him, making will a little self-conscious. "what?"

"your phone. nothing's gonna happen to you if you don't touch it for more than a minute." jack said from the other side of the boy. some of the guys around the room chuckled slightly, making will blush a little, he did not think they had realized how much he was using it.

"who're you texting anyways?"

"uhm, n-no one." will stuttered, mentally cursing to himself for how he was acting.

"you sure it's not mystery girl?" ryan teased from across the room with a smirk on his face. his words made the whole team erupt in ooh's, while will's face became a dark red shade.

"there's no mystery girl."

"sure there isn't, buddy. we all saw that little smile you gave her." drew added. will had never wanted to disappear as much as right now.

"hey, who's phone number is on you hand?" jamie said, grabbing a hold of the boy's hand. somehow, will's face became even darker than before as more laughs echoed in the room.

"no one's!"

"is this no one the same no one that you're texting."

"maybe." will admitted. he figured his friends were not going to let this go any time soon, or that they would end up finding out the truth anyways, so what was the point of lying. "but it's none of your business, so just drop it."

will's words came out harsher than he had intended. he was never one to react like this, and all the boys knew that, meaning they stopped bothering him about it.

none of them brought it up on the bench when he would sometimes look back at the girl and send her a soft grin. or when their eyes would connect for a long time whenever will made his way back to the bench. but, just because they did not bring it up to him, it did not mean they did not bring it between themselves.

gabe and ryan pretty much spent the whole gossiping like a bunch of teenage girls, giggling whenever they would noticed their interaction. they knew will heard everything they were saying and laughing about, but the boy did not care. they were leaving him alone about it and that's all that mattered.

unfortunately, the game did noy go their way, losing 3-4 to denver, but will had scored two goals, so dahlia did not really care about the score. just as her, and the other two were about to exit the forum, her phone dinged, making her stop in her tracks.

will

did you leave yet?

dahlia

no

why?

will

wanna see you

dahlia

uhm idk

wasn't on my schedule

will

its almost ten

what could you possibly

have to do thats more fun

than seeing me

dahlia

im a busy gal

you'd be surprised

where do i go?

will

come near the locker rooms

you'll see me

dahlia

this is my third time

being here you think

i know where that it

"you guys go one, i have to meet someone." dahlia said to her friend. a smirk grew on violette's face as the pieces clicked in her head.

"smith?"

"maybe."

"you coming home tonight?"

"yes." dahlia said sternly to alex, making the boy frown slightly before the couple said their goodbyes and made their way out of the forum. the next second, will was calling her.

"hi." the girl spoke, a shy smile on her face as she moved to the side so people could make their way out.

"hey. you really don't know where to go?" the boy chuckled making the girl scoff a bit.

"no, i don't." the girl sassed, making while chuckle a little more.

"meet me at your seat." he said, and before the girl could say anything, he hung up. it took a couple of seconds for her brain to understand what had just happened.

eventually she snapped back and started making her way back to her seat. there was pretty much no one left in the area, only one or two janitors that had started cleaning. as she approached her section, she could see a boy leaning against the wall right besides the entry to the stands. he was holding his phone in his hand, texting his friends not to wait for him.

"hey." he said with a wide grin, slipping his phone into his pocket when he noticed the girl. he pushed himself off the wall and took a couple of steps to meet her in the middle.

"hi." the girl giggled, her nervousness taking over. when the two teens were standing in front of each other, they stared at each with wide matching smiles. will was the first to move, wrapping his arms around her waist bringing her close to him.

the girl was a little shocked at his boldness, but she liked it. it took her a couple of seconds before relaxing into his arms and wrapping her own around his neck. her head was resting in the crock of the boy's neck, his cologne filling her nose.

"thank you for coming."

"you played great." the girl whispered back, making the boy scoff a bit. "you did, will. last time i checked you're the only one with two goals."

"we lost."

"so? it's one game, there's a like i don't how many more left. i had a lot of fun watching you." the girl said, trying to cheer him up. the two now had their foreheads resting against the other's, their words barely being loud enough for them to hear. will's eyes were closed as one of dahlia's hand came up to his face, cupping his cheek and rubbing the skin on his cheekbone.

"it's just... hard." the boy sighed.

"i get it, sorta, i think? when i try a new baking recipe and it turns out horrible, i get mad. especially when i do everything right, and it just doesn't work." the girl explained, making the boy open his eyes.

"you bake?"

"helps me calm down. the best part is getting to eat though." she said, a soft smile on her face as the two locked eyes.

"teach me one day?" will asked, and the girl was quick to shake her head yes. "good." he added before leaning in a pressing a small peck to her cheek. the girl blushed, her eyes avoiding his as she bit back a smile.

"food?" the girl asked, trying her hardest to change the subject, while still avoiding his gaze.

"you pick."

soon, the two young adults found themselves sitting in a pizza place not too far from campus. the two spent the night laughing and getting to know each other even more.

the night ended with will walking dahlia back to her dorm, his hand holding onto hers. once the two arrived at her dorm room near midnight, dahlia turned around to hug the boy goodbye.

"thank you for cheering me up."

"you're too pretty to be sad." the girl answered boldly, her head laying against his chest as they hugged. when the two pulled away, dahlia pressed a kiss right besides his lips, grinning afterwards.

"'night, will."

"good night, lia."

[koizumiyuu]

Social Outcasts

Part 5

warnings: Niragi, guns, gore, swearing?? casual aib things you would expect.

The wound turns out to not be anything serious. Just a case of teared up skin where the bullet likely grazed her during the scuffle in the room. She may not be a doctor, but it’s not that difficult to clean it up and wrap a bandage around it. She’s more annoyed at the hole in her hoodie, now gaping on the upper left sleeve.

A few days pass in relative peace, and (name) uses the daytime hours to gather supplies and information however she can manage, before she eventually has to abandon her shoddy apartment in turn of being closer to the game venues.

Her thoughts linger on the guy she met in the Five of Spades game. She knows she’s seen him on campus before a few times. Has run into him in the hallways. Knows he does his rotations at the hospital partnered with the University, that’s why she didn’t see him around that much these days. She’s stumped on his name though. Their majors are nowhere near similar, and honestly, she didn’t even have any point in noticing him before. It’s only after meeting again in this strange world that she’s forced to give more thought to what he’s like.

It felt unsettling to how he approached the game and the situation in general. While everyone else was either running around or cowering in fear, he stood back and watched, silently calculating his next move as if playing mental chess with an invisible opponent. Just like (name) did. It’s one thing to be the smartest in the room when you’re the only one, but it suddenly throws you off balance when a second player like that is introduced. (name) briefly wonders what was the reason for him wanting to gain her trust in offering help, and what his motives are.

After a few days of laying low, (name) finally decides it’s time to stop stalling and closes the door to her apartment for good. She stays with her policy of wearing practical clothes, once again opting for shorts and sneakers, with another black hoodie. The streets of Tokyo are yet again dark, as she sets out towards another game venue lit up in the distance.

The closest venue appears to be a once popular Pachinko parlor, now again lit up against the otherwise dark street. ‘This must be a Diamonds game in a place like this.’ (name) muses to herself before pushing the door open as a familiar chime follows her inside.

The place looks tidy enough, with most of the slot machines lined up against the walls of the room. There’s already two people waiting, talking between themselves in hushed whispers. They appear to be a couple in their early thirties, giving her a weird look for a short second. (name) glances at them briefly, not really keen on making conversation before approaching the counter on which four phones are placed. She picks one up, going through the usual stuff as it scans her face.

She has a brief moment to look around the room before the door swings open again and three men stroll in. Immediately, they don’t give friendly vibes with the imposing presence they give off, but (name) just quietly observes, not saying anything. The guy that entered first immediately stands out with the piercings on his face and the assault rifle he’s got slung on his shoulder. Also, the monstrosity of a printed shirt he’s wearing. The two guys that follow, appear to be his lackeys, as they wear the same disgusting looks on their faces, immediately looking over everyone in the room as if they’re prey to be gawked at. She takes notice of how the two dudes seem to be wearing shorts and sandals with their jackets, as if they were just on vacation. And that all three of them have some type of locker bracelets on their wrists. She wonders what that’s all about. The first guy’s eyes slide from the couple to (name), and he smirks, before making his way over to collect the phones for him and his buddies.

The three of them scan into the game, and soon enough the familiar voice rings out, announcing the information, as simultaneously, a single light bulb lights up above a table in the middle, revealing six chairs standing around it and a revolver placed atop.

‘Registration has closed, the game will now commence.’

‘Game: Reverse Russian Roulette.’

‘Difficulty: Five of Hearts.’

(name) furrows her eyebrows, ‘Hearts?... Seriously?...’

‘Rule: The first player must spin the cylinder of the gun once before pointing it at themselves and firing. The cylinder contains 4 full chambers and 2 empty ones. No personal weapons may be used during the game.’

‘Clear Condition: Empty the cylinder of the gun. Standing up from the table will result in an Immediate Game Over.’

‘Time Limit: 20 minutes.’

The man with piercings appears smug for god knows what reason, while the couple immediately panics, muttering something unintelligible among themselves.

After a few snide comments from the first man, and him haphazardly tossing his rifle on the counter, the six of them make their way to the table, each taking a seat at one of the six chairs. (name) sits between the woman and one of the three men who came in together.

(name) appraises the remaining players quietly, before the pierced guy takes initiative, starting to urge the game on. A snarl on his face, he points to the frightened looking man impatiently, “The fuck are you waiting for? Pick it up!”

The man seems to flinch back in surprise, immediately uttering excuses, “W-what? Me? I haven’t— I’ve never—“

His stuttering gets cut off as the first guy sneers, “Then have your girlfriend do it if you’re such a pussy! Move it!”

Now it’s the woman’s turn to jump as she begins pleading to not make her do this. Her partner seems torn up about both choices, but seemingly not wanting any more of the yakuza guy’s wrath, reaches for the gun. He fumbles at first, but eventually spins the cylinder, lifting it to his head with shaky hands. The pierced guy watches with thinly veiled amusement as the guy trembles in fear, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw before after a long pause— pulling the trigger.

(name)’s not sure what she expected. The man’s blood splatters across the table and the woman as he slumps forward, the gun clattering on the table from his now limp hand. The woman dissolves into wails, sobbing loudly as she clutches her own face. (name) just watches, mostly glad he didn’t get blood on her.

Yakuza guy doesn’t seem to be so patient, immediately interrupting her sobs with a shout, “You’re next! Pick up the gun!”

She doesn’t comply immediately, so he bangs his fist on the table, “I said pick it up! Are you deaf, you whore?!”

That gets her attention, and she reaches for the gun with trembling hands and snot running down her chin.

The process repeats again, as she hesitantly presses the barrel to the side of her head. (name) leans back in her seat, and after some more crying, begging, and whimpering, the woman pulls the trigger too. And just like her boyfriend, she meets the same fate of having her brains splattered on the table. (name) makes a face of disdain when a few specks of blood hit her cheek.

Guy with the piercings zeroes in on her next, the same condescending snarl on his face as he nods to the gun, “Well, dollface? Gonna wait all night?”

(name) gives him a look, but picks up the gun next, weighing it in her hand. It’s heavier than she thought it’d be, but that’s the least of her worries now. She pauses for a second, before speaking up in a measured tone, “You know, nobody said we have to fire specifically at our heads.”

The guy recoils at her comment, looking at her like she just said the stupidest thing he’s heard, “Hah? Don’t you know how to play Russian Roulette, you dumb bitch?”

(name) smirks faintly, “I know. But that’s not exactly what we’re playing, is it?”

Realization seems to dawn on the guy’s face, but the expression disappears as quickly as it came as he watches her, “Whatever, just fucking shoot.”

So (name) does as she’s supposed to, lifting the gun to her head. The guy seems taken aback at that after the whole theory she just gave, “Oi, what the fuck are you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before (name) pulls the trigger.

And… nothing. The chamber is empty this time around. She scoffs, placing the gun down onto the table and sliding it towards one of his lackeys that’s sitting between him and her, “Guess I’m lucky.”

The guy on her left looks at her, then at the gun, then at her again. He’s seemingly a blind follower of their self-appointed leader, but for some reason, he looks to her for guidance or advice or whatever the hell else, “So, you’re saying I don’t have to point at my head?... Where else then?”

(name) shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest as she observes him, “Who knows? Anywhere else that’s not lethal?”

The guy seems to hesitate, but his leader appears to be losing patience, now urging on his own minion, “Fucking do it already! There’s a timer you dumb shit!”

That kicks the guy into gear and he picks up the gun, pointing it at his thigh just like she suggested. (name) raises her eyebrows, interested to see if her theory is correct. The guy grits his teeth, hesitates, then pulls the trigger. The gunshot sounds out and he yelps in pain as blood starts pouring from his leg. He tosses the gun on the table with a loud clatter, immediately pressing his hands to the hole in his leg between gasps. He doesn’t get eliminated though, and (name) nods to herself in approval, glad to see she was right. She lifts her eyes to the leader, “Well?”

He shoots her a glare, but picks up the gun next, doing the same thing as his buddy and pointing it at his thigh. He pulls the trigger, the gun clicks, but nothing happens. He throws his head back in laughter, happy at his success before pushing it into the last guy's hands forcefully, “C’mon! Move it!”

The last guy hesitates, already knowing what’s coming to him. But under his leader’s pressuring and the timer ticking, he has no choice but to do as he’s told. He too, clenches his jaw and points the gun at his leg before pulling the trigger. And just like the previous guy, his reaction is immediate as the bullet pierces flesh.

The guy is still wailing and clutching at his wound as the cheery chime sounds out, ‘Game Clear. Congratulations!’

(name) doesn’t waste time before standing from the table, the chair making a disgusting scraping noise against the floor as she pushes back, “Good game.” She turns towards the door as the gang leader stands too. He starts yelling something after her, but she dips as fast as she came, not having a good feeling about lingering around him any longer than necessary.

Next.

[joeys-babe]

Someday We’ll Be Together

Chapter 3: Movie night

_______________________________

(y/n's pov)

"joe?" - you called out when you walked into his house

"i'm in the kitchen!" - joe

i picked up my pace and made my way into the kitchen, looking around on my way there.

when i got into the kitchen. joe was straining spaghetti noodles.

"this is a nice place you've got" - you

"thanks. i didn't want to be in the nfl and living with my parents still, so i bought the house across the road." - joe laughed

"how do you think i feel. i'm jobless and living with my parents!" - you laughed

"there are plenty of possibilities for you here in cincinnati. you were a physical therapist.. why not work for the bengals? i could put a good word in for you." - joe smiled at you

his smile.

"that doesn't really sound like a good idea joey. we'd be goofing off when we're supposed to be working." - you

"yeah... you could be a water girl or my personal water girl at practice, because the other guys would try to flirt with you." - joe

"dude that doesn't sound terrible to me! have you seen some of your teammates?" - you

joe gave me this annoyed look and rolled his eyes before turning his attention to cooking.

"why are you so annoyed? how'd your girlfriend react if she found out i was your personal water girl?" - you

"i'm done with her." - joe

"what?" - you

"she treats me like shit. when i went home because you told me to leave, i called her back and she just talked about how i needed to work out more." - joe

"why would she say something like that? what was her reasoning?" - you

"she said that all the rest i took because of my torn acl is causing me to lose my six pack. no joke she actually told me, lexie mathews doesn't date boys that don't have six packs." - joe

"oh my god. i'm so sorry she said that joe, you don't deserve that. i don't know how you are as a boyfriend but i know how you are as a friend you deserve someone that treats you as good as you treat them." - you

"thanks y/n. i'm just waiting for her to fuck up so i have a reason to break up with her." - joe

"i'd say her being insanely degrading is reason enough." - you

"well yeah. she's at a party with a bunch of guys right now, the last time she was at a party with a bunch of guys she cheated on me." - joe

"she cheated on you?!? she cheated on joe burrow." - you

"yup. and then she told me it was my fault because i was in ohio and couldn't satisfy her needs and urges. so she fucked another guy."

- joe

"joe, oh my god. you need to get out of that relationship, she's so toxic." - you

"i know. i'm really glad you're back y/n, i miss having these talks." - joe

"same. i miss talking about how terrible girls are." - you chuckled

"well not all girls are terrible, apparently just all the girls i date are." - joe

"true. but most girls suck." - you

"did you have any relationships while in louisiana?" - joe looked at you

"no. i went on like 10 dates, none of them i really clicked with. i think my standards are just too high." - you

"or men just aren't shit. i've heard guys talk in locker rooms, how they talk about women is disgusting. you have every right to have high standards." - joe

"why are you so good with words?" - you

"im really not, i just tell people the truth. but, the spaghetti is done i'll get your plate ready while you go pick a movie to watch." - joe

"okayyy" - you stood up from the barstool and walked into the living room

"joe this couch is amazing!!" - you got comfortable on the couch and grabbed to remote

"i know right?? i think i sat on every couch in the local furniture store trying to find the perfect one." - joe walked into the living room holding two plates

joe plopped down in the spot directly next to me and handed me my plate.

"10 things i hate about you?" - joe asked as he looked at the tv and saw the movie already pulled up

"yup" - you

"we've watched this together like 30 times, y/n"

- joe

"so? it's a classic joe" - you

"okay. play it." - joe sighed

(joes pov)

we watched the movie and ate our food together, it was just amazing to be in her presence.

she's makes me so happy.

i don't know if i was imagining it, but i think we kept scooting closer and closer together after i put a blanket on us because we were pressed against each other now. at the beginning of the movie we weren't touching.

i moved around to try to get comfortable and my hand brushed y/n's, immediately i felt that flutter in my stomach that gave me a confidence boost. i gently started rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb, i didn't want to just grab her hand but i also wanted to somehow show her how much i care about her.

gently she started moving her hand and i thought to myself that i had ruined the moment by trying to make somewhat of a move. but, she entertained her fingers with mine. both of stared at the tv wth wide eyes and a deep blush on our cheeks. we're holding hands right now.

i don't know what her intentions are, and to be honest i don't even know mine. it's just that today, ever since i saw her in the kitchen, i've blushed probably 20 times, i keep getting butterflies, and there's a stupid smile that won't leave my face. i don't know what i'm feeling, but it's good.. really good.

our moment was ruined when my phone started buzzing over and over again in my shorts.

"hey joey, are you gonna check who's blowing up your phone." - you whispered

"i'd rather stay like this" - joe squeezed your hand making you giggle and lay your head on his shoulder

"please answer it, it has to be important if they've texted you thirty times in a row" - you

i took my phone out of my pocket to see that i had multiple messages from ja'marr

"it's just ja'marr" - joe shrugged and started reading the messages

"ja'marr - JOE BURROW ANSWER YOUR PHONE. ONE OF MY FRIENDS SENT ME A VIDEO OF LEXIE MAKING OUT WITH ANOTHER GUY. *attachment 1 video*"

"holy shit" - joe

"what's wrong?" - you read the expression on joes face

"lexie is making out with some guy at that party right now" - joe sighed

"oh, i'm so sorry joe. she doesn't deserve you, you're an amazing guy. i say you dump her fake ass." - you

"i'm going to." - joe bit the inside of his cheek

"call her right now and just get it over with."

- you

"i knew this was going to happen.. and i had already made up my mind that i was going to break up with her.. but it still hurts like shit" - joe

"i know joe, i'm sorry" - you pulled joe into a hug

"i'm gonna get tears all over your shirt" - joe mumbled into your shoulder

"that's okay. let it all out joey" - you rubbed his back

i cried into her shoulder for awhile. she'd rub my back and play with my hair while whispering to me, telling me about how lexie didn't deserve me, and i didn't deserve how lexie treated me. at some point i pulled away and wiped my eyes, admiring y/n'a beautiful face.

"i'm so lucky to have you. you only got here this morning but i'm already so happy that you're back." - joe

"so much has happened today, lord have mercy"

- you

"well for the cherry on top of the sundae lets get this phone call over with" - joe sighed and clicked lexie's contact to call her

"joeyyyy" - lexie slurred

she was absolutely shitfaced.

"we're over lexie. i saw the video of you making out with that random guy. i deserve way better then you. have a nice life you degrading cheater. oh and just in case you're too shitfaced to remember this in the morning i'll text you the same thing i'm telling you now." - joe

"joey wai-" - lexie

"bye lexie!" - joe hung up

i dropped my phone on my lap and just stared at the floor, y/n was looking at me trying to read my expression.

"how do you feel?" - you

"relieved, like a weights been lifted off of my shoulders. but i also feel so sad. i really loved her, and she never gave me that love in return." - joe

"joe come here" - you pulled him into your arms

i laid my head on her chest as her arms stayed around me. can we always be this close?

"sorry i kinda ruined movie night" - joe

"you didn't ruin anything joe. you got out of a toxic relationship, i'm so proud of you" - you

"thank you for being here, there's no one else i'd rather be with right now." - joe

"of course. you know i'm always going to be here for you." - you

"can you stay here tonight?" - joe moved his head into your neck

"sure." - you rubbed his back

"good because i'm about to fall asleep. i have practice in the morning and it's open to the public, do you want to go?" - joe

"yes, i wanna see joe shiesty in action" - you

i chuckled as i wrapped my arms around her.

"goodnight y/n" - joe

"goodnight joe" - you smiled

30 minutes later, y/n was asleep but i wasn't. all i could think about was the girl that was in my arms. leaning up, i studied her face as a smile creeped its way onto mine.

"day one and i'm already falling for you?" - joe whispered and kissed your cheek

_________________________________

authors note: chapterrrr threeee 🤍🤍

hope you enjoyed ❤️

[fanficfanattic]

🌹🌹🌹

Three beautiful red roses for meeeee?

🌹

Roy/Jamie, S1, Roy goes to Keeley for advice on handling Tartt but he doesn’t ignore her advice like Ted did:

Back in the locker room after practice, Jamie hasn’t even changed out of his kit or thought about showering. Just goes straight to Roy and asked if he’d been good enough.

“No.” Jamie’s face starts to fall but Roy keeps talking. “You’re going to have to work for it, Tartt. You aren’t afraid of hard work, so I’m not worried that you’ll get there.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah Captain.” And since Jamie didn’t whine or bitch or moan, Roy decides to give him a treat. That will also test how honest Keeley was truly being with him.

“You can have my fingers in your mouth for two minutes. Consider it incentive for tomorrow.” Roy didn’t move his hands, though, and Jamie was as good at reading his intentions in that moment as he was at reading opponents on the pitch. He gracefully sunk to his knees, angled himself lower, and took Roy’s first and middle finger into his mouth from below them.

The instant look of serenity on his face confirmed Keeley had maybe even undersold how effective this would be. Tartt’s gentle humming buzzed against the skin of his finger. Making him think this was going to be a much better experience than he thought it might be even just the night before.

He hadn’t used his watch, so he wasn’t sure how long had passed. But right when he was ready to pull away because surely two minutes had passed, Tartt pulled himself away. But he was cheeky enough to then rest his forehead on Roy’s hip while he took deep, steadying breaths.

Then, like a bubble popping, Roy tuned in and realized that the room was filled with feverish whispering gossip.

“Oi! What did I say earlier? You make shit harder, you answer to me.” And the room went back to as close to normal as they could make it.

🌹

Gen fic, S1, family curse story. Georgie and Simon come down as fast as they can to help with caretaking (so Georgie can snuggle her little boy as much as possible while he’s little again):

“Oh, that boy! The only one here born yesterday is you, isn’t that right poppet,” she singsongs at the baby Jamie in her arms.

Then the smile slid off her face as she looked between Ted and Beard. She was visibly deliberating before deciding who to start with.

“Coach Lasso. Jamie told me you have a son of your own, dontcha?” Her tone was carefully neutral which was an alarm bell given how much warmth and playfulness she’d spoken with to her family. Still, he stood up straight and smiled friendly at her.

“I do, yes, Henry. He’s 8 years old and Jamie was very kind to him during his visit.” His tone didn’t change at any point during his response, just as bright at the beginning as the end. Despite the fact he felt the conversation was already fraught.

“Of course he were. Jamie loves kids, always goes out of his way to make them feel like they’re special,” she replied firmly. It was an immutable fact so far as she was concerned. “He’d never take his frustrations with someone else out on a child.”

“Of course not, you’re right.” She raised her eyebrows high at that before cocking her head to the side. He really had no idea how to talk to her, she realized. And it seemed like today had really thrown him for a loop. Like others, he was apparently one of those people who thought they knew her son just from how he played.

Few things made her angrier.

“I’m going to be honest, Coach Lasso. You don’t much strike me as a person who appreciates conflict. Me? I don’t much either but I don’t run away from it. And that seems like your go-to move from what I’ve observed.

So it’s hard to want to show you respect already. But I also don’t much have use for men what abandon their families. And I’m sure you think your reasons are compelling, but from where I’m standing there is no way in hell they could be.

There isn’t a thing on this earth that would take me halfway across it away from me Jamie.”

🌹

From nothing solid yet:

The thing is. The thing is, and it’s not fair, he knows. But the thing is that Jamie has spent a dozen years dreading his phone’s screen notifying him of a text from “dad”. So now, even though his dad had graduated from rehab to a sober house, that knee-jerk dread still hasn’t faded.

It feels unfair to his dad. And it is definitely unfair that if he isn’t in a completely solid frame of mind when a text comes in, that it can send him spiraling faster than he can sprint.

[zingaplanet]

What are your thoughts on Rafole? I fell down a rabbit hole on everything regarding them and their relationship and it’s very interesting how they went from being quite close to not…

My darling I love u but I'm trying to stay djoko-free and drama-free so I'm rlly not the best person to ask this hahahaha. Either way I don't think I'm qualified to speak about their relationship simply because I don't know much about it? I'll give my best perception but honestly take it with a kilo of salt lol. I seem to remember there was a falling out over Djokovic's father at some point (or was that with Federer?)

All I know is Novak's relationship with Rafa wasn't the only one that kinda suffered this fate. I don't think Novak was ever close with Roger to begin with, but pretty sure him and Murray used to be quite good mates (they were kinda childhood friends on the tour and played doubles) but that kinda fizzled out in the end. Nadal, Djokovic, Murray were kind of a strange teenager friend group at some point, simply I assume cause they're basically just from the same generation on the tour (they played together since juniors as well) and used to play video games n football together i think.

A bit strange cause I don't think Rafa and Andy's friendship ever really got strained. But then again it's completely understandable within an environment as competitive as them (considering the Nadal-Djokovic rivalry is much more competitive and tbf to Andy maybe, I too would find it difficult to be besties with somebody who beat me 6 times in an AO final 😭).

Don't think there's any point in guessing round the dynamics of the men's tour's locker room throughout the years. It definitely is fascinating, tennis is prob the only sport where you have to share locker rooms with your rivals every day of the year, something here and there are bound to happen, I guess. I bet you there are a shiton of gossips more scandalous than the royal family there throughout the 2000s but I also guess that there's a kind of unspoken code of conduct that you shouldn't ever talk about it? Which is why even the retired players never really did (look at A-Rod he's the biggest gossiper there is even he never said anyth about shits going down in the locker room lol).

Whether it was simply them growing up, having families, becoming more serious in their careers and hence more competitive with each other then grew apart or was there an actual internal friction/conflict I don't really know. Not that we'd ever know for sure I think, they'll prob never ever disclose it for PR reasons (maybe when they're retired). For me, Djokovic seems like quite a lone wolf on tour (?) which is quite sad, but maybe that's the way he prefers to stay competitive. He generally seems to have a kind of joker persona that's either well-liked or a bit divisive n he seems close with his Serbian countrymen although never really to the level of friendship with any specific one of them like Nadal did with Marc Lopez or Federer did with Wawrinka. This is all just my perception of course n could be 1000% wrong.

Anyhow, as the two remaining of the big 3 and looking at the way they interact (in laver cup and in charity matches in the AO for instance) i think it's obv that their relationship has grown into one of massive respect for one another, there's still a hint of kind of an old banter there sometimes (look at when they partnered up for the AO relief last year), but it doesn't seem like they have much of a personal relationship nowadays beyond that of respectful, competitive rivals who drove each other at the last leg of their careers.

Rafa and Andy are different tho, quite evident in the way Rafa invited him to his insta live and them interacting by challenging each other to play playstation afterwards. Even in Novak and Andy's insta live, I seem to remember there was a section where Novak said he was actually really glad to be able to do this instalive with him cause they "never had the chance to talk about this kind of things (personal stuffs) before" seemingly kinda hinting that they've been cordial and friendly these days but they never really ✨️ held each other's hands✨️ if u know what i mean lol.

Ok i could do a full on analysis of their interactions or instalives but this will take me 5 lifetimes lol. All in all, I just wanna be honest that I don't, emm how do i put this, really get Djokovic? I can't seem to get a read on him as a person, which is quite strange. I read politicians' faces for a living and I feel like you can always tell what someone is like based on their public persona a little bit cause nobody can hide that well without injecting a bit of themselves into their PR front (Federer is like the most PR perfect guy ever but even sometimes he slips up). Djokovic is just... really hard to read? Although ppl see him as the joker etc I always kinda feel that he's a very closed off person, at least with his personal thoughts. I don't really know what's going through his mind when he does certain things sometimes. But hey, each to their own right?

Again anon, you have alas triggered again this aimless rambling of mine, but there you go, one must eat the fruit that they've picked, (What even is this saying lol, sorry!)

[significant-narratives]

Ok but consider: the splash bros as a narrative foil to austonmitchy ... nearly 10 years of losing in the most heartbreakingly almost fashion and yet you still choose to stay and go back home to each other vs. being undisputably the best and coming back from the dead time after time after years of waiting and longing and reminding the world that you're unstoppable together even if the clock seems to have other plans.

That and klay is the most recent victim of mitchsogyny which is when uber-entitled fans of a team with a Best Guy Ever want to kick said Guy's work wife off of the only one he's ever known because of (1) bad playoff performance that somehow overshadows several good ones !! Men are watching sports for the wrong reasons just enjoy the gay love story and be grateful ugh !!! Ok sorry for ranting ive just been thinking abt both of them a lot and luv ur blog and need them all to stay married forever or i will do something Drastic etc ok that's all bye have a lovely day <333

oh my god anon... your mind... i had never connected those two dots but yes absolutely!! as always i am prone to rambling so i'm sticking the rest of my reply under the cut.

i think you nailed it re: how despite the different trajectory each pairing has taken (years of coming close but not close enough vs literal dynastic success) the enduring love is still there!

i also think the way these two pairings came to be is interesting to compare. auston and mitch written in the stars (auston shattering the glass of the rink off a mitch assist in their first practice together, fast friends since they were rookies etc) vs steph and klay having a slower burn and only really bonding a couple years in (the barcelona trip).

and then, like. auston and mitch sitting in the locker room together, united in their grief and heartbreak in the amazon doc... the effervescent joy that klay and steph take in succeeding together but also watching each other succeed, even all these years later!! both pairs always speaking highly of one another, understanding that they make each other better, and most importantly wanting to climb the metaphorical mountain together. and needing each other in order to do so.

less important but amusing to me: one half getting married and settling down (steph, mitch) and the other still (presumably) happily living that bachelor life (klay, auston)

have to take a quick second to highlight this part of your ask because it made me feel so weepy in wake of Recent Events (which i will circle back to):

being undisputably the best and coming back from the dead time after time after years of waiting and longing and reminding the world that you're unstoppable together even if the clock seems to have other plans

LIKE.... LET'S TALK ABOUT IT FOR REAL... steph is a generational talent, an all time great, changed the way the game is played etc etc BUT. everything he has won at an nba level has been with klay by his side. the warriors were a lottery team for two seasons, everyone said they'd never win again in the 1130 era... and then klay came back and they won again! when steph was out last season, klay played a huge part in keeping the time afloat! i repeat that through the power of true love all things are possible and i think that's beautiful.

and of course, klay as the most recent victim of mitchsogyny is just incredible scholarship, truly. i've been avoiding all warriors-related news/spaces this offseason because people are being so fucking miserable, it's painful to see.

like, with the faction of leafs fans who want mitch gone, i can almost understand why they feel that way (note: that doesn't mean i approve or agree lol). and that's because in the same way that winning cures all, losing poisons everything.

but with warriors fans and klay, it's like? was four championships and coming back from two potentially career-ending injuries not enough for you people? did you guys forget a decade plus of incredible performances that quickly? where is your sense of loyalty! <- this circles back to your point abt how the average sportsfan engages with team sports. they care about the logo, the team as a concept, and maybeee one or two superstar players. but for me personally, and i think for many people on sports tumblr, what good is rooting for a team if the team is completely unrecognizable? i don't want to see nameless players win a title, i want to watch my guys win! i want to get invested in their journeys and their accomplishments and watch them grow together! sports are just stories about people at the end of the day!

please don't apologize anon, i too have been in the trenches with the news that klay is likely to leave as a FA and just... everything... about the mitch situation. i think the most important thing to remember is that no matter what happens, the love will always be there. and when we look back, their names will always be said together.

[prismuffin]

The MW2 boys reaction to you calling them pretty boy

w/ Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy

warnings?: swearing, mentions of drinking

*gn reader ( can be read as any gender ! )

!-!more under the cut!-!

John Price:

—You calling him pretty boy would definitely catch him off guard.

—Honestly he thinks it's a dare

—Depending on how well he knows you he might let it slide, unless you're in public or around other members of 141, then he'll reprimand you for it.

—Secretly enjoys it but tries not to show any reaction

"Drinking all by yourself pretty boy?"

John's head snapped in your direction, seeing you leaning against the counter. He was currently at the bar having a drink though your presence completely caught him off guard. He eyed you up and down before taking another sip of his drink, already sensing the headache inducing conversation ahead. "Pretty boy?" He questioned, his body jolting in a silent laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything. "Never call me that again Sergeant." "Yes sir."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

—Did he hear you right?

—Is honestly super flustered but is very happy with the new nickname, he's still very confused at the suddenness of it though.

—He's super smiley all day afterwards like it's all he can think about. Price had to ask him what was had happened to make him so happy.

Gaz was going through a routine pre-workout stretch in the training room. He had more of a lean build compared to some of his mates and though that doesn't make him any less capable it still made him feel as though he has to keep up sometimes. "Nice arms you got there pretty boy!" He turned his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised as he watched you wink at him before disappearing into the hallway. He beamed, feeling a bit more energized than before. He completed his workout with a confidence boost, nobody could tear Gaz down that day. He knew he was getting questioning looks from Price about his smiley attitude but he didn't care.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

—He's so confused? Like did you really just say that to him of all people?? The guy wearing the mask all the time???

—Like Price, he thinks it's a dare or a joke you got forced into by Soap or something

—Doesn't know how to take random genuine compliments that have no context so please bare with him

—Might just fully ignore you honestly, especially if its early mornings

Ghost sighed as he walked into the common room. Soap and Gaz were talking about something in the corner of the room while Price seemed to be sat reviewing some files, you standing over his shoulder. You noticed him first, your eyes catching his as he stood in the doorway. You nodded your head at him, "Morning pretty boy." He blinked at you, seeing if you were serious. It wasn't something he had expected to leave your mouth and he didn't know how to react, he was thankful for his mask at times like these. Noticing your greeting, Price had turned and nodded to him as well before the both of you went back to looking at the files. He mumbled a "Fuckin' 'ell" as he walked deeper into the room. He just hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

—He easily accepts the new nickname with a smirk

—Two can play that game 'cause he'll definitely flirt back a little to be honest

—You're just adding fuel to his ego ya know

—Like Gaz he's just a big ole happy boy after you call him pretty boy

Soap was with Ghost in the locker room on base. He was chatting with Ghost, though it was more like he was talking while Ghost was listening, only giving input when he felt necessary. You'd walked in when Soap had just taken off his tactical vest, leaving him in nothing but a tight black shirt. A whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of both men. "Looking good pretty boy." Soap's expression morphed from confusion to that of an amused one. A smirk rested on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Not lookin' too bad yourself there la' " He winked before hearing Ghost groan about how you two were being gross.

Alejandro Vargas:

—It catches him off guard much like Price but he quickly gets over his shock

—Like Soap he's more than likely to flirt back with you

—Finds it funny, especially if it comes from nowhere

—Will tease you to hide his own flustered state

You were currently occupying yourself by cleaning off one of your favorite submachine guns. It was then that Alejandro had walked in with Rodolfo. They were both coated in sweat after a morning run which Rudy had immediately left to wash off. You would have joined them both had you not been minorly injured on one of the recent expeditions. You weren't complaining though, you got to rest all day and take in sights like this. A smirk found its way onto your face as your eyes scanned over Alejandro's form. "Welcome back pretty boy." Alejandro shook his head, a smile resting on his face. "Ten cuidado amigo/a, falling for me can be dangerous." (Be careful, friend)

Rodolfo Parra:

—He's flattered to say the least, he definitely wasn't expecting it but he's not mad at all

—Like Gaz and Soap he's very smiley afterwards

—You made his day with such a simple compliment and he secretly hopes the nickname will stick cause it makes his heart flutter.

Rodolfo was currently training some new recruits for Los Vaqueros, yelling semi-threatening words of encouragement as he watched them run the track. The yelling along with the heat had made him a bit lightheaded though he fought against the feeling. He jolted when a hand clapped his back, turning to see your face greeting him with a smile. "You doing alright pretty boy?" If you asked Rudy later he'd definitely blame the blush rising in his cheeks on the heat. "S-Sí, I'm ok." You tilted your head, unhooking your hip flask from your belt. You held it out to him "Cuídate Rudy." (Take care of yourself) He nodded, grabbing the flask from your hand and taking a big sip before handing it back to you. "Gracias." "De nada."

----!----

( first time writing for COD men I hope it turned out ok !! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Living Up To The Legacy ✈️ | Top Gun: Maverick Series P.2

Contains major spoilers for TGM

Read P.1 here -> Series Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell (past romance/eventual romance), Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x daughter!OC (platonic), Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (platonic), Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floy (platonic), Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace (platonic), pretty much the rest of the characters are platonic.

Content Warnings: profanity, light angst, banter. Miscommunication troupe. Friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again (I know it’s a mouthful). Mentions of death and violence. Slight implication of sexual themes but nothing explicit | Female OC (she/her) | Wc: 10.2k

Premise: It’s day one of training for the special detachment mission, and Maverick is not coming to play. For his daughter and student, Barbara, she’s gonna have to push herself to the ultimate test if she wants to make it onto the team. Tensions are high between not only father & daughter, but also with Barbara’s ex-husband and son of Mav’s late best friend, Rooster. The team soon learns quickly that Maverick is not like any instructor they’d ever had…..and that his daughter lives up to his legacy.

Note: these parts are LONG just to warn you cause I’m doing close to 20 minutes worth of scenes on top of the fact of adding my own to correlate with the story. Enjoy.

——————————————————

After getting dismissed to begin their dogfight training, the men and women head to the separate locker rooms to get dressed in their gear. Having been unable to place her belongings when she first arrived, Barbara chucks her phone, wallet, and keys into the locker labeled, ‘Legacy’. The vintage tin keeping her cigarettes and matches stayed out, knowing she’d be needing them with the day ahead of her. She could feel the eyes of the two other women behind her, but kept her attention focused on buckling in her gear. Until Natasha decides to break the forming awkward silence.

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?” Phoenix casually asks, eyes on Barbara when she closes her locker. With an internal groan, the young Mitchell turns to face her.

“Which one?” She tilts her head, as though she wondered what the aviator was referring to. But then again, she really had no clue. “There are two I can think of, Phee. Why don’t you pick one to start—or surprise me with something entirely from what I’m thinking.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “How about starting with the fact Maverick is your father. And don’t—,” she points a finger when she sees the look of protest on Barb's face, “try to say some ‘there are plenty of officers with the name Mitchell,’ bullshit. I saw your reaction. And although you never talked about your dad, you did say he was a pilot.”

“There wasn’t anything to talk about,” the locker slammed as she closed it, “Our relationship has been complicated since I was born. You guys would’ve found out sooner or later.” Phoenix’s frown softens, feeling sympathy for her fellow aviator. Barb shakes her head with a sad chuckle and adds, “The cat’s out of the bag now.”

Phoenix glances to the ground, before bringing her eyes back up to Legacy and asks, “Did you know he’d be the instructor?” There was a hint of suspicion in the question. Of course she would be, the others probably too. The Navy’s legendary pilot as their instructor that will choose the six-man team happens to be one of the candidates' fathers. And not to mention he’s also the ex-father-in-law of another.

Surely there would be a conflict of interest.

Barbara lets out a huff, clipping in the last restraint on her gear. “Seeing him at the bar last night was the first time I’d spoken to him in over three years.” And Phoenix was well aware of what took place during that time. It sent another frown to her face, looking away to not meet Barbara’s eye. It was unsure to the pilot if Natasha had knowledge of what really happened between her and Rooster. The two were good friends so she wouldn’t put it past Rooster to tell her.

With a sigh, Barbara leans her back against the lockers. “Look, Phee, imma let you know now you don’t have to worry about him going easy on me or thinking I’ll have a one way ticket on this mission. If there’s anyone whose limit he’s going to push the most, it’s going to be me.” Picking up the tin, Barb pockets it in the side of her flight suit. “Right now you have a better chance of making it on the mission than me. All because you don’t share his blood.”

She grabs her helmet, Phoenix doing the same. They’re about to head out of the locker room when the latter stops them, one more question burning in her mind. “I have one more thing to ask. I know we haven’t talked in awhile so you don’t have to give me the details in full….but I care about you and I care about Rooster. What happened?”

That answered Barbara’s earlier question to herself. Tightening her jaw, the brunette silently wished she could light a cigarette right there. Conversations like the ones her and Phoenix were having stressed her out. It was like Hangman had said, it opened a new can of worms.

“What all did he tell you?” She asked, wanting to know if there was any information Bradley had relayed to Nat. There was no way she was going to spill anything that didn’t need to be said or clarified.

Phoenix thought back to the conversation from years prior. She had just returned from a mission and met up with some friends at the bar where she found Rooster nursing a glass of whiskey on his own. After seeing the look of anger and despair on his face, she walked up to him to ask what was wrong. Never did she expect the words, ‘Barb and I are done,’ to come out of his mouth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The question flew out of her, shock ridden all over her face. He still had his ring on, it shined under the light of the bar, but soon he pulled it off to examine it. “Bradshaw,” she nudges him when he doesn’t answer.

“I left the house almost a month ago—been staying with Fritz. She served me with papers today.” The pilot couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She gives a light scoff. If there was anything she knew about Lt. Bradley Bradshaw, it was he adored his wife. From the moment she met him at Top Gun, Phoenix would hear of Barbara Bradshaw and her accomplishments because Rooster would not shut up about her. Then the two finally met and she could see why. Him and Barbara were perfect for each other. Every time the group got together Phoenix could see the love radiated off of them for one another.

Now she was hearing they were getting divorced? There was no way.

When she asked him to tell her what had happened, Rooster was reluctant. All he said was, “We had a fight. A bad one, Nat. She refused to tell me something I had the right to know so I left. Then today I got the papers, and when I confronted her at the house I found out she got new orders.” He tossed back the remaining contents of his drink before adding, “it was over after that.”

It dawned on Phoenix then that Rooster would not tell her everything that was said between him and his now ex-wife. She didn’t blame him, he had the right to keep to himself if she pleased. What hurt her was Barb hadn’t reached out to her. The two were friends. If she had then Phoenix would’ve got on a plane back home to get Rooster’s head out of his ass for walking out, and finding out what the fuck Barb was keeping from him. It pained her to see her two friends go through something like that.

“He wouldn’t say anything else,” Phoenix tells Barbara with an unreadable expression. “He refused to speak of it further and left shortly after.” She steps toward her friend, pleading with her when she says, “What the hell, C? Why would you file and just leave like that—without any explanation? And what were you keeping from him—please,” her tone takes a harsher edge, “please don’t tell me you were cheating.”

The accusation has Barbara scoffing, pushing off the lockers causing Phoenix to almost have to step back at the look of anger the pilot was displaying. “If anyone should be asked about their faithfulness in our marriage, It’s Rooster.” At the look of plain shock on Phoenix’s face, Barbara sniffs, trying to contain her emotion. “I love—loved that man with every inch of my soul. I can’t tell you what it is I kept from him because It’ll put you in the same position I was—and let me tell you, you do not want to be in it.” God how she wished she could turn back time and stop herself from having that conversation with her father.

Barb licks her lip, laughing to ignore the heat boiling inside her. “I didn’t stop Rooster from leaving because I knew he needed time. I had hoped we could work it out, Phee, I really did. But then days of silence turned into weeks and finally I had enough.” The image of Rooster leaning with the pretty blonde officer tapping his chest in a flirtatious manner with Rooster smirking plastered in her mind. It brought a wave of sadness and anger to the pilot.

“And filing for divorce right then and there was the best option?” Phoenix throws her arms out, helmet in hand. “And pack it up and leave without even trying to talk things out.”

Barbara squeezed her eyes shut, keeping her cool. She didn’t want to snap at Phoenix. It wasn’t her fault, she was in the dark about her friends suddenly breaking up when she thought they were the strongest couple they were. It wasn’t easy being in a relationship with both parties in active service.

“He seemed to have already found my replacement, so I did us both a favor,” Barbara’s words sent both Phoenix and Halo—who was watching the entire thing unfold from the side—jaw’s dropping. She takes a sharp inhale, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I tried to get a hold of him, he gave me nothing. So I went to his work and found cozying up with another woman.”

Phoenix shook her head, wanting to deny it. No way could she see Rooster cheating on Barbara. If she saw him with another woman it had to have been something else than what she was implying. “No—R-Rooster wouldn’t dare—.”

“I saw his face, Natasha,” Barbara cuts her off with a hiss, sending Phoenix into silence. “I know that look, because it was what he always gave to me when I teased him. It was different when you or anyone else would.” Barb feels herself blinking, tears threatening to spill but she holds them back. “You just know it’s over when they look at someone else the way they would you.”

“Barb…” Phoenix starts but falls flat, unable to form the words. Sadness for the woman in front of her consumed the aviator. Though she was upset Barbara kept something obviously important from Rooster from him, it didn’t mean she deserved to be cheated on. It still was a hard concept to grasp. Deep down, Phoenix felt something was off.

“We’re going to be late,” Barb announces, shaking her head and making a movement to stretch her shoulders. “Let’s not keep them waiting. Captain Mitchell won’t go easy on us so let’s not give him a reason to make it more difficult.” She didn’t wait for Phoenix to follow, taking her chance to leave by hurrying out of the locker room and in the direction of the lounge. The pilots would be taking turns going up in the air therefore the remaining would wait on standby.

Phoenix and Halo shared a look, frowning as they watched the young Mitchell go. It was a tough situation for their aviator. One they couldn’t imagine being in the shoes of. Ex-husband and estranged father? It walk like the universe was out to get her.

With a heavy sigh, Phoenix starts walking with Halo behind her. It was going to be one hell of a day.

Barabara took pleasure in the small moment of peace she had while outside. It was a beautiful day, perfect for flying, and Barbara was itching to get up in the air. The sound of jets gearing up was like music to her ears.

Until it was ruined by the sound of, “Did you know he was coming?” The tone in his voice was harsh and Barbara had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Turning to face Rooster, she narrowed his eyes up at his scowling face.

“Bradshaw,” she greeted with sarcasm, waiting for him to come to a halt in front of her. He towered over her frame, helmet in hand. It was bound for them to face one another. As much as they both wanted to draw out the inevitable, fate had other plans. “Sorry I didn’t hear what you said. Could you repeat that?” She damn well heard him and he knew it. It only made him glare at her more.

“Did you know?” He repeated with a low voice. The answer he got was a scoff followed by, “No.” He found it hard to believe. Rooster was well aware Iceman was her superior and Godfather and had likely told her in advance about the detachment. He wouldn’t have put it past Ice to warn her about her father. And at the briefing that morning Rooster noticed Barb was the only one who did not turn around when Maverick had walked up the aisle.

When she goes to turn around and leave, he cuts her off. “Don’t lie to me, Barbara.” At her offended expression he leans down to her level, “You were the only one who didn’t react to him this morning.”

“What, were you watching me?” she calls him out, tilting her head. The light blush on his cheeks had her smirking. She got him there. Then she goes back to glaring, “I’m not fucking lying, Bradshaw. Ice only told me about you being a candidate. Okay? I only put two and two together when I saw him at the bar last night.”

Rooster huffed, “I find that hard to believe.” He regretted saying the words the moment he left them. By that point it was just his anger from the past speaking. He could tell when Barbara was lying to him and right now she wasn’t.

But it was too late to take it back because the laugh she let out sent a sting to his heart. She tilted her head up, stepping closer so they were barely an inch apart. It was comical because of the height difference, and if the moment hadn’t been so heated Rooster would’ve probably laughed.

“Well I frankly don’t give a fuck what you believe, Bradshaw,” she hissed, blue-green eyes practically glowing from the way the sun was hitting them. It was a beautiful contrast to her jet black hair. Rooster felt another jab to his heart when she added, “I don’t have to prove anything to you anymore.”

Rooster was about to bite back when Payback called out to him, “Ayo, Rooster! Let’s go—we’re up!” Fanboy was beside him, watching the two with a curious expression. By the time he turned back to Barbara, she was already gone, having brushed past him when he was distracted by Payback. Spinning on his heel he caught her as she swung open the door into the lounge. Cursing under his breath, Rooster shook it off before heading to his plane.

In the lounge, Barbara found the rest of the aviators scattered. Yale and Harvard were at the football table, Hangman was sitting on one of the couches and Bob was attempting to get the radio up. Phoenix was beside him, so Barbara made her way around the mini bar to get a bottle of water.

“Good morning, aviators,” Maverick’s voice rang out, Bob making a fist of victory gesture. “This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighter maneuvers.” Up in the air, Rooster, Fanboy and Payback were listening intently to the pilot. On the ground, Barbara leaned against the table to hear everything unfold. “As briefed, today’s exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of five thousand feet. Working as a team, you have to shoot me down…or else.”

“Or else what, sir?” Payback questions.

“Or else I shoot back.” Barbra smirked, locking eyes with Phoenix and Bob. “If I shoot either one of you down, you lose.”

“This guy needs an ego check,” Hangman comments, eyes on a mini jet in his hands. Barbara scoffs, face forming a look that reads, ‘are you serious?’ Harvard and Yale clap hands going, “we’ll see to that.” Now that had her rolling her eyes. Their confidence humored the young Mitchell.

“What say we put some skin in the game?” Payback challenges the pilot, who then asks, “What do you have in mind.”

“Whoever gets shot down first has to do two-hundred push-ups.” Oh no.

“Guys,” Rooster warns at the same time Barbara mutters, ‘Bad Idea,’ under her breath. Mav gives a chuckle, “that’s a lot of push-ups.”

Fanboy laughs, “Well, they don’t call it an exercise for nothing, sir.” Barbara shakes her head with a tsk, moving so her back is leaned against the counter and the radio is behind her. Both Bob and Phoenix give her a look to which she says, “they have no idea what they just got themselves into.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, gentlemen. Fight’s on. Let’s turn and burn.” Maverick, who had been flying level close to the ground below the pilots, cranks the jet up. He soars up in their direction, none of them noticing he’s on their tail.

“Fanboy, you see him?” Rooster asks, glancing from left to right in the windshield.

“Nothing on radar up ahead. He must be somewhere behind us.”

“He’s under you, boys,” Barbara says to herself, drawing confused looks from Bob and Phoenix. Then comes the explained shouts from the radio as Maverick tilts his plane to squeeze in the space between them. “Damn it!” “What the hell?!” “Shit!”

Barbara unwrapped a dum-dum lollipop, popping in her smirk ridden mouth as the others expressions turned to one of surprise and fear. “Easy, Maverick. Let’s try not to get fired on the first day.” Yeah accomplishing that goal would be a miracle.

“Tally, tally, tally!! Mavericks coming in! Break left!”

“Breaking left!”

“Payback, where’s your wingman?”

“Rooster, where are you!”

“I got your back. I’m coming. Hang in there. Hang in there.”

“Hurry up, man! Hurry up!” Barbara could mentally picture Rooster cutting in between Mav and Payback, causing Mav to go after him instead. And by what comes in on the radio, the aviator was right. “Payback, break right.”

“Breaking right!”

“Rooster just saved your life, fellas. But it’s gonna cost him.” ‘Typical,’ Barb thought to herself at the cockiness of her fathers tone. “Not this time, old man.”

“Don’t let him get to you, Maverick,” Barb could tell that comment was more toward himself.

“Rooster, you’re too low! Pull up! You’re hitting the hard deck.”

“Oh shit,” comes Rooster's panicked tone, forgetting about altitude. Barbara shakes her head, knowing he’d have to pull up and Maverick was going to be right behind him.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” she finishes the candy and keeps the stick in her mouth to chew. A habit she had developed being indoors since she couldn’t smoke. “It’s over for him.”

“How do you know,” Bob asks, just in time as Maverick says, “That’s a kill.” The blonde’s eyes widened in shock, making her chuckle. Rooster’s frustration could be heard and it was ridden on his face when completing his pushups. From the lounge they could hear Hondo call out, “Down! one-oh-nine! Down! One-ten!”

Phoenix was watching from the window, Barbara took a seat on one of the high chairs but still in view of the tarmac. Fanboy and Payback came up behind Phoenix, “That should be us down there.” “Down! One-eleven!”

“But it’s not,” Phoenix said in time with Hondo yelling one-twelve. “And now you know a little something about Rooster.” She walked away, leaving the two men and sitting beside Barb.

Squinting her eyes, the brunette could see Harvard, Yale, and Coyote heckling Rooster. When Harvard took out his phone so the three could take a selfie with Rooster in the background, Barbara shook her head and silently hoped Mav would whoop their ass in the air. “They’re gonna regret that.”

“Is he always like that?” Phoenix asked, referring to Maverick and the intense dogfight they had just overheard. The raised brow and look of, ‘you really want me to answer that’ was enough for Phoenix to slump in her chair. Nerves had started to fill her that she couldn’t even laugh at the expression Bob was giving. He looked like he was about to shit his pants right there.

For the duration of Harvard, Yale, and Coyote’s training, Barbara barely paid attention until she heard, “That’s a kill.” “Damn!” Followed by, “Smoked. “Damn it.” When the trio arrived at the tarmac, shoulders slumped and defeated, Barbara muttered, “Karma.”

Rooster had made it to the lounge at that time, red faced and completely spent. Two hundred push ups later the man looked like his arms were about ready to fall off. Barbara had to look away and keep her back towards him, for it brought back a familiar feeling seeing him sweaty and heaving for air.

Phoenix, Bob, and Hangman were up, so Barbara stayed close to the radio to listen in. “Say Phoenix,” Hangman’s voice echoed in the room. “How‘s about we tell everybody ‘BOB’ stands for something.” Already Barbara had enough of listening to him, taking another lollipop from the tin. “Other than Robert, I mean.”

“Don’t take the bait, Bob,” Phoenix stops him from speaking. “Want to know why we call him Hangman?”

“You tell him, Phee,” Barb nods her head, hyping the woman up despite her not being there.

“Oh, I got it. ‘Baby On Board’.” The sound of Hangman’s laughter rings out, but cuts abruptly at what Barbara assumed was Maverick speeding past him. “Shit!”

“Greetings, aviators. Fight’s on.”

“This should be good,” Barbara chuckles, leaning her arm on the counter. She had been waiting pretty much all day for Maverick to put Hangman in his place. There was no doubt the blonde was good, even Barbara would admit to that. But his ego could use a reality check—and what better way than to go up against one of the greatest pilots the Navy has ever produced.

“All right, Phoenix, let’s take this guy out!”

“Watch your back, Phoenix,” Barbara jumps slightly at the sound of Rooster coming up from behind her to stand on the other side of the radio. The two make eye contact, but the woman is quick to look away, jaw tightening as she does.

“Break right!” Hangman orders, but Barb felt it was too good to be true.

“Breaking right.” Phoenix calls out and seconds later Bob says, “Where’s he going?” The hand that was keeping Barb’s head propped fell when she let out a exaggerated sigh, “Fucking typical, Seresin.”

Phoenix matched her frustration, “That’s why we call him Hangman. He’ll always hang you out to dry.”

“Leaving your wingman. There’s a strategy I haven’t seen in a while.” In Barbara’s head she goes, ‘yeah, you would know that.’

“He called you a man, Phoenix. You gonna take that?”

“So long as he doesn’t call you a man.” Barbara smirks at Phoenix’s clap back, muttering “atta girl.” In the corner of her eyes she could see Rooster smiling too. “Talk to me, Bob. Where’s Maverick?”

“Jesus, his nose is already coming around.”

“Get off me, Hangman!”

“For all you folks at home, this is how you bury a fossil.”

“All right, Hangman. Time to teach you a lesson,” Barbara’s ears perk, adjusting her position so she was directly facing the radio. She completely disregarded the look Rooster gave her, keeping her gaze focused on the speaker. “You’re out, Phoenix.”

“Son of a bitch!”

The fight was on now with Mav vs. Hangman. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing and huddled around the counter. It pushed Rooster closer to Barb, the man standing beside her as she sat on the high chair. Both appeared to look stiff at the close proximity, but were two drawn to the dogfight to move away. “Let’s go, Mav. Let’s see what you got.”

“Come get me,” the veteran pilot chastises, practically excited by the challenge.

“Evil be gone. Hangman’s coming.”

“Yeah, you’re good. I’ll give you that.” That nearly had everyone on edge. Was Maverick gonna go down? By Hangman of all people? Barbara was sure her father had some trick up his sleeve.

“Shit,” Hangman muttered, and Barb bit her lip to stop from laughing. There it was. “Phoenix, I can’t see him. How close am I? Phoenix?”

“I’m dead, dickhead.”

“See you in the afterlife, Bagman.”

“The old sun trick,” Barbara said under her breath, but by the reaction from Rooster beside her, she figured he heard her. “Classic.”

“Where is he? Where is he?” Hangman sputtered out, but his alert sounded indicated Maverick locked on him.

“That’s a kill.”

It was a pleasant sight to Barbara when she took her smoke break before heading out to find Hangman on the tarmac. Halo and Omaha were her wingmen for the exercise and had to use the restroom so Barb waited outside in the meantime. And boy was she glad she did. With her aviators on to block the sun, Barbara locked eyes with the blonde as she brought the match to her lips to light the tobacco. His pissed off look at her smug expression had her smirking, blowing the smoke out from her first puff leaning against the wall of the hangar.

She felt bad for Phoenix and Bob, who were sweating buckets as they approached their eightieth push-up. But it was amusing to see Phoenix looking at Hangman like she was about to jump over Bob to kick his ass.

“I thought you quit,” Rooster’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, surprising her once again. She wasn’t expecting him out there since he was done in the skies for the day. His eyes were narrowed at the cigarette in her hand.

She brought it to her lips, locking their eyes as she took a long drag. “More like a tolerance break,” her sarcasm did not impress him, the man now glaring at her. It made her scoff, “What does it turn you off?” Like Mav, Rooster did not like the fact Barbara smoked. It was something she picked up in college that got progressively worse in flight school and becoming active duty. She always made sure to do it away from him, but of course the smell lingered no matter how much perfume she sprayed on. In the later years of their marriage Barbara had stopped after promising Rooster she would quit.

But then 2016 happened with shit hitting the fan, and Barbara picked the bad habit up again the night Rooster left the second time.

“Actually, yes. It does.” Barbara makes a face at his reply, purposely taking another drag and holding it for a second before exhaling. It was amusing to her to get under his skin, although she had to stop herself from thinking about all those nights where her bratty attitude got her into trouble. Good trouble that was.

“Well good thing I don’t care for your opinion, Bradley,” she takes the last drawl and flicks the bud to the ground to step on it. “Now if you’ll excuse me—.”

“Is this how it’s going to be then?” He cuts her off, stepping closer. She crossed her arms, waiting for him to elaborate. Throwing his arms out he huffed, “just going to avoid each other like the damn plague.”

The assumption has her looking him up and down, “From the looks of it that’s what you wanted. I’m just doing us both a favor.”

“And what would that be, Barbara?”

She throws an arm out to emphasize her point, “This!” She then gestures a finger between the two, “In the two times we have spoken today alone has ended arguments. We obviously can’t stand each other, Bradley—why try to be civil?”

“Because this mission isn’t just about us, Barbara,” his voice goes low as he steps closer, nostrils flared. “We’re not just putting our lives on the line here, it’s there’s too so if we can’t chalk it up and act like a team then someone’s gonna get killed. And I will not have that on my conscience.”

She falls silent, biting her tongue in the process. As much as she wanted to say something sarcastic, the man had a point. They had to work together for the sake of the team and completing the mission. Otherwise they’d live a life filled with regret by letting the past control their emotions. Barbara had come close to losing her wingman on her last assignment, and the close call was enough to shake the aviator.

“Fine,” she agrees after a moment, “We put the past behind us for the time being.” Rooster nods, slightly relieved despite having to come to terms with his own idea. Their attention flashes to the side of the tarmac when they hear Omaha yell, “Yo, C! We’re up, let’s go!” Halo was walking ahead, throwing a head gesture in the direction of the planes to Barbara.

“That’s my cue,” she sighs to Rooster, feeling a slight wave of nerves swirl. It had been a long time since she'd gone up against Maverick, each time it ended with disappointment. This time Barb hoped it’d be different.

Turning back to the man in front of her, Barbara gave a pointed look, “Maybe you should call a truce with the one other person in this boat who has you lose focus in the air.” She was turning on her heel before he could answer, well aware he’d protest in a heartbeat. Peace between Maverick and Rooster was like trying to find the holy grail.

But if he wanted to survive then he better get to digging.

“Any last minute advice you could offer, C, before we get the ball rolling?” Omaha asked through the coms as they flew steady. Barbara was in front by a tad, but remained level with her wingman.

“Trust your instinct. Don’t think, just do,” she tells him, checking her surroundings. Maverick was sneaky so she didn’t put it past him to come zooming at any second. She listened closely for Halo to relay radar info, but knowing her father he’d stay below to catch them off guard. “Act quick and don’t underestimate. Remember that and maybe you’ll come close to getting him.”

“I appreciate the faith you have in me, C,” he laughed, causing her to smirk.

“You asked for advice, Omaha, honesty comes with it.” Another few seconds pass without any word from Halo. The pump of her heart started to race, her intuition clouding her mind. “Break right, Omaha.”

“W-what?” He stutters confused, “C there’s nothing on radar.”

“He’s under us! Just trust me, break right!” Without thinking Barbara breaks left, Omaha failing to react in time just as Mav pulls up from beneath resulting in his jet to shake from the impact.

“Jesus Christ!”

“I told you,” she groans, amping her speed to pull around when Maverick says, “Fight’s on, aviators.” Unbeknownst to the pilot, Maverick was nodding his head with a smile beneath his mask. It filled him with pride that his daughter was able to anticipate his moves.

“Talk to me, Halo, where is he?” Barbara calls out, glancing left to right to see if he was on her tail.

“Shit, I can’t see him!” She calls back, making Barbara curse in her head. He had to have been close. She leaned forward, squinting against the sun and saw movement. Halo must’ve seen it too because seconds later she’s shouting to Omaha, “Tally, tally, tally, he’s coming down—break left!”

“Breaking left,” he follows the order. Barbara catches sight of them and speeds in their direction. Mav cuts behind causing her to shout, “He’s on your six, Omaha—evade, evade! I’m right behind you.” Omaha does his best to lose Maverick, but comes up short when Maverick locks on him.

“I got you, Omaha.”

“Damn it,” Barb could hear the disappointment in his voice. Damn that was quick. Now it was just the two Mitchells. The fight was definitely on now.

And on the ground, everyone had huddled around the radio to hear the action.

“Okay, Legacy,” Maverick says, pulling around with fast turns knowing she was chasing him. “Let’s see what you can do.”

She narrowed her eyes at the challenge, “Lucky for you I feel the need for speed.” She could’ve sworn she heard him chuckle and had to hold back a reaction. It was no time to get distracted.

The two begin a cat & mouse chase that lasts for miles. Both the aviators come close to locking on each other but fall short which has even the veteran pilot thinking he may come out the loser.

After about twenty minutes of this—which had every person in the lounge on the edge of their seat—Maverick takes the advantage when he manages to get behind Barbara.

“Goddammit,” she hisses, but manages to break left in time and quickly swing down so she drops altitude. Mav follows her, but she catches him off guard by quickly pulling up and spinning so his laser is unable to lock.

“Playing dirty, Legacy? I see how it is.”

“Yeah, well I’m starting to get a little pissed off, sir,” she quips back, noticing the sun was starting to set. It was nearing the end of the day—her, Halo, and Omaha being the last group—so there was a reddish-orange glow to the darkening sky. It gave her an idea.

Breaking right, Barbara headed east where the sky was darker than in the west. Knowing Mav was going to follow, she amps her speed and goes high all while making tight turns.

When darkness overpowers the little light from the setting sun in the horizon, Barbara makes her move. It would be harder for him to see so she used it to her advantage. She goes high, pulling Gs before spitting the throttles and inverting.

“What the….” She hears Mav go, causing her to smirk.

“You’re not the only one with moves up your sleeve, sir.” It sends her back, Maverick zooming right past her so close it throws him off, resulting in him lining directly in her sight. Not wasting a second, Barb edges the plane level behind Mavick and locks her target.

“That’s a kill,” her voice comes over the radio sending a wave of reactions amongst the crowd. Jaws are dropped, some gasp, Hangman goes ‘Ain’t no fucking way,’ meanwhile Rooster fights the urge to smile. If they didn’t know before they definitely knew now,

Never underestimate the woman who lives up to the legacy.

And when they departed after the team landed to finally end the long day, they still couldn’t believe it wasn’t Barbara joining Omaha and Halo for 200 pushups.

It was Maverick instead.

“Barbara! Barb—wait up!” The sound of Mavericks' voice had the young woman stop her walking and turn around. She had just left the locker room after a much needed shower and was heading to her bike when her father called out to her. Everyone else had already left, leaving Barbara as the last one since she decided to extend her shower to nearly an hour. It was worth it though after the day she had.

“Hey,” Mav caught up to her, panting slightly since he had been running. They were both in their civilian clothes, practically matching with their bomber jackets and jeans. The only difference was Barb had a cigarette hanging from her mouth, rolling her eyes when Mav made a face when he noticed it.

“Yes, Captain?” That had him frowning more—hating she addressed him by his rank again. He expected it when they were in uniform, but as they were off the clock he hoped she’d let up.

“Can we talk? Please?” He pleaded with her. The man had been waiting to pull her aside all day. There were a lot of questions on his mind and answers he needed to know, but felt like their first meeting the previous night was not the time or place. And not knowing where Barb was living since she already was stationed at North Island, Maverick had to ask regardless at some point.

“Right here?” Her voice was muffled from the object in her mouth. With a raised brow, she gestures to the parking lot. “Right now?”

He gave a shrug, not really minding if it was their only option. “If that’s okay with you.” The words make her sigh causing Mav’s heart to sink a bit. But to his surprise, she nods to their bikes and says, “Meet me at the Hard Deck.”

When they get to the bar, the two find a booth in the corner away from the other patrons. As usual service members are in attendance taking claim to the darts and pool table. None of the aviators are there which gives relief to both the Mitchells. They must’ve checked out for the night after getting their pride knocked down.

“You did great out there today,” Maverick says with a small smile, noticing how a light blush forms on her cheeks. It made his throat tighten a bit when he realized he rarely ever praised Barbara when she was growing up. He hardly asked about school, the sports she did, or clubs she was in. It filled him with regret.

“I try my best,” she tightened her lips, fidgeting with the glass of whiskey in front of her.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Though she wasn’t looking at him, eyes on the glass instead, Maverick could see a flicker of amusement when her lips curled up.

“Ice.” Mav smirked at the answer. He should’ve known. After a moment she looks at him with a shake of the head, “What do you want to talk about, Pete?” Again, another jab to his heart at the use of his first name.

Clearing his throat to ignore the emotion coursing through him, Maverick clasped his hands on the table, “I just—I want to know why, Barbara.” He lifts his gaze from the table to connect their eyes. It was like he was looking into his own. “I-I thought things were finally going good between us three years ago. And then you left me with silence again. Why?”

From her reaction it was obvious Barbara was expecting the question. Her jaw tightens, tongue flicking out to lick her lip as she glances away briefly. “At first it started out with me needing time to think,” she spoke with honesty, reconnecting their eyes. “But then everything happened so fast. And, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel resentment for you. More than what I felt when I was in college. ” Well that sure was a nail to the coffin for Maverick. He tried not to react but failed miserably.

“I understand,” his voice is low, unable to look at her.

“Look you were right, okay?” She leans back against the booth. “You warned me about knowing the truth and I should’ve listened. Maybe then I’d still be married—anyways besides the point, I know it was my fault when I put myself in that position.” She leans back forward, pressing her elbows into the table with a firm gaze, “but when I thought of you, all it did was reopen the wound. It would just bring everything back in a constant cycle. And then I would think of the ‘what if’s’. That maybe if you hadn’t pulled his papers, none of it would have happened.”

Barbara has to pause after running out of breath, taking a swig of her drink. Placing the glass down, she sighs, “I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to you. And by the time I finally felt like I could, it had already been two years and you had stopped trying to call.”

The tone in her voice broke Mav’s heart. He hated the position he put her in when he told her—blaming himself for what happened to her and Rooster. Without thinking he reaches a hand across the table to lay it on top of hers. The act surprised her, but she remained emotionless. “I would have dropped everything, to be there for you, Barbara.” It was true. Even if he was flying some mission he would have turned the plane around in an instant. “It’s not your fault, okay. I get why you couldn’t talk to me. It hurts a bit, but I get it. And I-I stopped calling…because I felt you needed space. That you’d reach out when you were ready.”

“I know,” she whispered, glancing at their joined hands. “And I know you kept tabs on me from Ice.” His lips quirk up, not denying since it was true. It pained him all those months of silence from his daughter, but he didn’t want to make it worse by showing up out of the blue. Ice would tell him how she was doing in her squadron and was the one to inform him about the divorce—which he still didn’t know the full story on.

“What all did he tell you about Rooster and I?” She asked, slowly removing her hand from under his. He tried not to frown and replied, “said you two had separated and you called him for a transfer.” Barbara finishes the contents of her glass, pushing it to the edge of the table for someone to pick up.

“We were never officially separated,” Maverick straightens, giving her his full attention. There was a part of him that felt happy she was opening up to him despite the subject being sore. “He came home from a deployment and, with my failed attempt of acting like everything was okay, got me to admit I had confronted you. He demanded to know, as I had expected, but like you warned me I couldn’t bear the thought of telling him,” she bits her lip briefly. “We fought and he walked out. And like I told you last night, I let him—I didn’t think it would be the end of us honestly. I was naive really and thought he needed time and then we could talk it out so I could get him to understand it was better for him to not know for the sake of his heart. But….” She trails off, unconsciously letting her right index finger caress the spot on her left hand where her ring once laid. Maverick saw it and felt his face fall.

“For nearly a month we didn’t speak. None of his friends would tell me where he was at first, but one of them saw how worried I was and said he was staying with Fritz. Then,” she pauses again, not wanting to get into detail about finding Rooster with another woman. She didn’t want Maverick to look at him differently despite her anger at the betrayal. The man still looked at Rooster like a son.

“Basically after a month I knew there was nothing that could be fixed.” Maverick looked like he wanted to question her change of tone, but decided against it. “I filed and called Ice the same day, who was able to pull some strings and have me here though he’s got me working for the Tomcatters when they need back up on missions.” So that explained the tomcat patch addition to her flight suit. “It was done after that. Bradley came back to the house the next day—papers in his hand—and all hell broke loose. Pretty much whatever small part of the string attached to us was severed.” Barbara purposely left out the details of the argument and the fact she threw a bottle at Bradley.

“I’m sorry,” Maverick said after a moment of silence to let everything process. There were a lot of mixed emotions for the aviators. Sadness, anger, sympathy. Anger was mostly for how things played out. And while he loved Rooster, Barbara was his daughter and would feel anger at any man who hurt her. Of course she held responsibility for the events, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t biased. “I’m sorry it ended like that between you two.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t going to work between us,” she said sadly, ignoring the look of protest from her father. “Things were rocky that last year. It only sped up the inevitable.” Mav didn’t even try to fight Barbara on her words. It would only end badly and so far they were having a good heart to heart.

“Have you and Rooster got to talking?” He had noticed in the morning after briefing they were quick to get past each other without a word. It made him wonder if they had finally spoken at some point in the day.

“Yeah, twice we did,” she told him, making him nod, slightly relieved but still worried by the expression on her face. “First time it was to accuse me if I knew you were gonna be the instructor. Didn’t end well,” she grimaced, causing him to do the same. “Then he caught me before we did our run. To call a….somewhat civil truce is what you can say.”

This made the pilot raise his brow, “a truce?”

“For the sake of the team and the mission,” Barb began to explain, licking her lip in the process. “We’re gonna do our best to work together and act like adults who can get the job done. We both know it wouldn’t do anyone any good if we were always butting heads. It would cost someone their life. Let me be clear, I'm not confident it will work, but it’s for the team.”

Maverick wholeheartedly agreed with Barbara. It’s mostly why he had wanted to talk to her. He too, wanted to settle differences—even if it were a short time—to make sure they could work together. “That’s good. That’s really good to hear,” he gave a small smile. “I’m happy for you two—to-to come to an understanding. It will do good for the team and hopefully make things easier these next few weeks.”

Barbara all but gave a look that read, ‘your optimism humors me.’ She reached over to grab her ice water that was on the other end of the table, lightly laughing as she said, “yeah, we’ll see about that. I told him he should take his own advice. But knowing his stubborn ass I doubt it.” He knew she was referring to him by the look on her face when she glanced at him. Maverick felt his smile fall back into a frown.

“Can I ask you something?” she suddenly asked, making him straighten up. “And can you promise to tell me the truth?”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

She contemplated for a moment before finally saying, “There’s a reason you’re having us master dogfighting as a team before telling us the details of this mission. Why is that?”

Mav’s blood runs cold. Fuck he should’ve known she’d see through him. It’s not common for squadrons to go back to the basics before knowing the extent of the task at hand. It always amazed Maverick how well Barbara could read into things..but at this moment he sorta despised it.

“It’s good practice” He offers, trying to make a joke but it comes out more of a question. Barb’s head drops a bit as if to say, ‘you think I was born yesterday?’ He looks away, knowing he shouldn’t be telling her anything. “This—this isn’t like what you’ve faced before, Barbara. None of you have pulled off something to the level they are asking of. I can’t tell you the details just yet—I-I—.”

“It’s a suicide mission, is what you’re trying to say,” she cuts him off abruptly, the words he was about to say dissapearing. “You know, deep down, that someone won’t come home from this.” His silence is enough of an answer. She feels the air catch in her throat, coming to terms with the realization. “Well that sure turns the tables.”

At her expression Maverick is quick to assure her that he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure the team is ready. But it’s not the over looming thought of death that has Barbara worrying her. It’s the thought it could be the very reason Maverick won’t choose her for the team—even if she is the best option. That has fear, worry, and slight anger pooling in the woman’s veins.

“Don’t wash me out,” she tells him, determination in her gaze that’s so powerful it gives him chills. “Don’t wash me out, Pete. Or I swear to God I’ll never forgive you.”

Understanding what she was implying, the same way Rooster had when they spoke that morning, Pete nods and repeats the same words he did from earlier in the day, “That’ll be up to you, Barbara. Not me. I promise you.”

The next morning was the same drill, but the teams from the day before were switched. Barbara was paired with Phoenix and Bob this time around and although they ended up losing to Maverick—making the score now 1-1 for father and daughter—it still was a long dogfight. They worked great as a team, as Maverick had complimented them after successfully locking on Barbara. She couldn’t even be mad by that point because she knew they had tired the man out. That in itself was an accomplishment.

“We make a good team, us three,” she heaves to catch her breath once Hondo calls out their 200th push up. Sweat was cascading down her face and neck, making her black undershirt damp.

Phoenix and Bob—who were also panting and red faced—nodded in agreement. “Damn that was intense,” Phoenix said, “but at least we lasted longer than yesterday.” The two high five, making Barbara laugh.

“What exactly did you do up there?” Bob asks as they head towards the locker rooms to wash the sweat and muck off them. They had stopped in the lounge to get bottles of water first and downed them in a heartbeat. Finishing the last drop, Barbara wipes her chin with a smirk.

“Oh just something an old friend taught me once.” By friend she ment Iceman. “I’ll show you up there next time—it’s a little hard to explain.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled. The three parted ways with Bob entering the male locker room while Phoenix and Leacy went to the female one. When they all finished they got dressed in their flight suits and met up in the lounge. At first sight Barbara noticed Hangman and Rooster were the only two missing.

As she took a seat on one of the couches, Hangman’s voice came through the speaker, “So, Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

‘Oh here we go,’ she thought to herself, adjusting herself on the couch so her body was turned to face the radio and pulled her legs onto the cushions. “Would it matter if I did?” Rooster replied with annoyance.

Hangman wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, “So what’s the story with you and Maverick—-I mean other than the fact he was your father-in-law at one point,” Barbara felt her fist tighten, aware of the looks some of the aviators were giving her. “It seems like he’s got you rattled.”

“It’s none of your business,” he tells him sternly, and Barbara becoming relieved he wasn’t going to say anything. The last thing Rooster needed was Jake having something else to use against him. “Now where the hell is he?”

“Been here the whole time,” Maverick’s voice rings out, full of smugness. It was followed by Hangman going, “Hooooly shit,” indicating Maverick pulled some kind of trick.

“You see me now? Come on, let’s get it over with.” Ears perking up, Barbara raises from the couch to get closer. There was something about her fathers tone that sent anxiety through her.

“Fight’s on!” Rooster shouted, making the first move of their dogfight. She could only imagine the look on Hangman’s face at whatever the hell they were doing when he said, “What is with these two?”

A few seconds go by before Mav is saying, “All right, you put us here. How you gonna get yourself out?”

“You can bail out anytime.” Rooster clips back, refusing to relent.

“How low you want to go, Rooster?”

“I can go as low as you, sir! And that’s saying something.” Barbara’s heart picks up in pace, Phoenix turning to her with a worried look. None of them could see what was going on. From the sound of it, Mav and Rooster were in some kind of contest.

“What’s past is past,” Maverick tells him sternly, trying to get through to the pilot. “For all of us.” Barbara tensed, feeling it was not just Rooster and his problems he was referring to.

“You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you,” Rooster’s reply had Barbara cursing under her breath. She was right to believe he wouldn’t let up on his resentment.

“Hard deck is five-thousand-feet, fellas. You are running out of room,” Even Hangman sounded worried which brought on another rush of anxiety in the woman. The others tensed up around her when Maverick said, “Your strategy is about to run us into the ground. What’s your move?”

“These fucking idiots are going to get themselves killed,” Barbara slapped her hand on the table, startling the other pilots. They knew better than to question the woman, aware she had an inkling on what was going on in the air. After all, it was her father and ex-husband.

They must’ve got their head out of their ass because Mav was encouraging Rooster seconds later, “Alright you got it. Don’t think, just do.” It wasn’t rocket science to assume Rooster got behind Mav and was tailing him.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats when Hangman shouted, “Come on, Rooster, you got him! Drop down and take the shot!” It was something to hear the egotistical pilot who always wanted to be the star tell Rooster to take his chance.

“Come on, Bradley,” Barbara muttered, ignoring how Phoenix and Bob both snuck a glance at her. Though she was beyond furious at the two for putting their lives on the line in a damn training exercise, the aviator couldn’t help but slightly cheer Rooster on.

“It’s too low,” he said, causing her head to drop between her shoulders as the disappointment rose. He lost his chance. She was already pushing off the chair and walking out the door, making everyone turn in confusion before they heard Maverick say, “Too late, you had your chance.” Five seconds later came his voice again, “That’s a kill. Knock it off.”

“Damn it,” Rooster cursed while Hangman sighed, “Same old Rooster.”

When the end of the day approached and Rooster was doing his pushups, despite Hondo saying it was okay to stop, Phoenix confronted him. Barbara was nowhere to be found, having left earlier without a word.

“I’m going on this mission,” she spoke with determination, crouching beside him. “But if you get kicked out, you leave us flying with Hangman.” It was no question she’d rather fly with Barbara than Hangman. Phoenix was only telling Rooster to emphasize her point and get it through his head he was acting irrational.

“He pulled my papers,” Rooster tells her, coming to a sitting position on the tarmac. Her expression turned to one of surprise as, “What? Who?”

“Maverick,” his jaw tightens, looking at the ground before lifting his head. “He pulled my application to the Naval Academy. Set me back four years.”

The female aviator couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Is this what Barbara had kept from him? If it was, she could understand his anger for she herself would feel betrayed. Even if it was her father. “Why would he do that?” When he said he didn’t know, Natasha bit her lip before asking, “Did Barbara know?”

“Not in the beginning,” she felt shoulders drop in relief. But the question still remained. What would Barbara not tell him? Rooster then started to explain, “she didn’t know what he did when we reconnected. They were estranged at that time and I believed her. But then when I was deployed three years ago she got him to tell her why,” Rooster makes a face, feeling the familiar emotions within him rise. “Wouldn’t tell me when I confronted her.”

Phoenix processed the information, thinking back to the conversation she and Barbara had the previous morning. There had to be something missing—something important for Barbara to keep information as big as that from Rooster. “That’s why you left,” she says softly, watching him take a sharp breath.

“She left too, Nat” he points out, venom in his tone. “She filed for divorce, called her Godfather—which by the way happens to be Iceman,” the look on her face would’ve made him laugh, but Rooster was too heated at that moment. “And left.”

“Well you didn’t help by ignoring her for a whole month,” she glares, watching the shame and regret taking over his expression. Phoenix looks away briefly, debating on whether or not to make it known the reason why Barb filed so quickly. And although she was upset with both of them with their actions, the aviator felt there was a piece of it not adding up. “She thinks you cheated, Rooster.”

Immediately his head snapped to her in shock, making it clear to Phoenix he didn’t know what she was talking about. He confirmed it when he said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Barbara went to your work the day before you were served,” she began, drawing confusion from Rooster. “She saw what she believed was you about to shack up with another girl—if you hadn’t already. Said you looked pretty happy with the attention you were getting.” The memory must’ve dawned on him because Rooster’s shoulders dropped, shame once again filling him. Phoenix raised a brow, harshness in her tone when she accused, “Did you fucking cheat, Bradshaw.”

“No!” His reaction was instant, clearly offended by the assumption. “I never cheated, Phoenix!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing?!”

He brought a hand to his forehead, letting it fall to his chin as he shook his head. “I wasn’t in the right headspace—I’ll admit that. And I was angry with her for not telling me, I felt betrayed.” He thought back to the day before the papers came. Rooster knew exactly who Barbara must’ve seen. It was one of the female officers who worked in the tower who often tried to flirt with Rooster but he never entertained. That day he didn’t know what came over him, but he ended up talking to her. It shamed him that he allowed himself to even think of possibly getting involved with someone else while married. Rooster never followed through of course, and realized his mistake when the woman tried to kiss him.

“We flirted. That was it,” he told Phoenix, pleading with her to see the truth in his eyes. “Nothing happened and I rejected her when she tried to make a move. I mean it, Nat.” At first she was silent, making him feel unease that she didn’t believe him. When she nods he sighs in relief.

“Look I believe you,” Phoenix replies, stretching up to stand. “But It’s not me you need to tell that too.” When she goes to leave, Rooster stays still, not needing to ask who she was referring to. The sun had started to set, the others were taking their leave, and Maverick had been called to Cyclone’s office the second they landed. Surely in for a chewing after the days antics.

After a few moments to himself to watch the sunset, Rooster finally gets up to retire his stuff in the locker room. He didn’t bother showering, saving it for when he got back to the dorm he was temporarily staying in. All he wanted to do though was get in bed and sleep himself away.

“What the fuck was that today, Bradshaw!?” Barbara’s enraged shouted across the parking lot. He had just thrown his back in the bed of his Bronco when he caught sight of her hightailing in his direction. There was pure fury in her eyes, enought to make him freeze in his tracks. “You think this is some kind of game? You two could’ve gotten yourselves killed up there!”

Instead of answering her question, Rooster had another thing on his mind. “Why didn’t you tell me,” he put his hands on his hips when she marched up to him.

She scoffed in response, “God, not this again.” Anger rose, but Rooster pushed it away and said, “I’m not talking about that, Barbara. I’m talking about you thinking I cheated.”

“I-what?” She spits out with wide eyes, realization dawning on her. It made her curse, “Did Natasha tell you?” It was a rhetoric question, Phoenix was the only one besides Ice who knew—and Rooster never talked to him—so it had to have been her.

Rooster makes a sound, emotion getting to him. “That’s not important. What’s important is you jumped to conclusions instead of talking to me and look what happened.” He drops his arms to his sides, narrowing his eyes. “You just went off on an assumption instead of letting me explain!”

That was rash coming from considering he didn’t let Barbara explain why she kept the truth from him. It was like the pot calling the kettle black. “What are you saying,” she steps back, as if she it was hard to believe what he was implying. She knew what she saw that day—It was her husband enjoying the attention, maybe even giving it as well, to another woman other than her.

“That I didn’t fucking cheat on you!” He exclaims with his arms out. She doesn’t flinch when he yells, instead she steps closer—pressing her chest to his stomach. The action suprises him, body tensing at the contact. Rooster had to fight against the memories it was bringing up.

“But you thought about it, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. More like a fact. And it had his blood run cold. Like Rooster, Barbara could read through him when he was hiding something. This was just another example. And he couldn’t escape from it even if he tried.

When he doesn’t answer, she chuckles, the sound thick with sarcasm. Barbara even brings her finger up to tap his chest, the same way that woman did the day she ended their marriage. “Funny how even after all these years, you can’t fool me, Bradshaw.” The smirk on her face drops to a scowl, “Just like I can’t fool you.” With one last tap to his chest, Barbara pulls away and mounts her bike which just so happened to be parked next to the Bronco. The engine sparks to life before she’s kicking the stand up and leaving him in the dark.

Rooster is left on his own, the man’s face nearly red with anger and regret as he watches his ex-wife haul ass toward the base gate. All he could do was shake his head, slamming the car door of the Bronco when he gets in and slapping the steering wheel in frustration.

How the fuck were they gonna be civil for the next 20 days?

……………………………

Tag list: @multiple-fandoms-girl, @maverick-wingman, @sgt-huntersupremacy, @the-winter-marvel33, @justanothermagicalsara, @calicokel

[respectthepetty]

Another day, another ask, but this time, it's about what are some currently airing shows that you're watching and really enjoying and how would you describe what you like about them briefly?

For example, The Warp Effect: Wholesome and sex positive QL, with so much representation and topics brought up weekly. Nothing like what I was expecting - in the best way.

Happy (Belated) Valentine's Day @sliceduplife! I hope it was kind to you because my response is going to be just like me and my favorite characters - problematic and absolute basura!

To begin, I'm actually going to tell you what I'm rewatching instead of currently watching:

Great Men Academy - Much like 3 Will Be Free and The Warp Effect, Great Men Academy isn't a BL, but it doesn't stop it from being queer af. It has a unicorn that grants wishes, a magical lake that requires nudity to activate, a ghost, a school sanctioned Hunger Games, body swapping, and an Elite level moment:

If you don't get the Elite reference, know that this lead-paint-level-toxic hottie, Cruz, delivered the best line ever uttered in the series:

¡No soy gay! Ni bi. Ni tri. ¡Soy futbolista! (I'm not gay! Not bi. Not tri. I'm a footballer!) <- I say "¡Soy futbolista!" all of the time when people ask about my sexuality without clarification and leave them in their confusion.

*moving on to your actual ask*

The Warp Effect - I came for Joy, the cinematographer who also did KinnPorsche, and Jojo, the director who does everything else I love, but stayed to see all the ways people could come... to an understanding about their sexuality. Also, it's very queer.

My Beautiful Man 2 - I do not condone stalking, but when it comes to my idol and his devoted worshiper, I'm trying to invent new ways of stalking, so Hira can always be within a 100 yards of Kiyoi. They should be more red flags than California during fire season, yet they are wholesome and adorable.

Well...in a very kinky way, kinda like these two wild kids from Secretary

Never Let Me Go - It has a teenager becoming the CEO of his family's multi-million dollar company and another teenager being his bodyguard falling in love! How could I not love it?! It's outrageous! And somehow the most unrealistic thing about this plot is there being a genuine good guy who openly talks about bitcoins, and I LOVE HIM! I did not have falling in love with a man who enjoys "investing" on my BINGO card, but then again, look at my very good boy. LOOK AT HIM!

Hit Bite Love - It's so messy. It has stepbrothers in love, open discussions about condom sizes and lubricant, Kinks-R-Us, a bi Burger looking for his King, and so much more. This past episode hid a pivotal scene behind a paywall due to the two characters having sex in the school's locker room, so half of the plot was missing in the edited version. It made NO SENSE, but I didn't care. Give me all the mess, but I draw the line at taking off your sock and putting it in someone's mouth. BAD BOY! VERY BAD BOY!

The End of the World with You - Japanese BLs stress me out. They give me a lot of an anxiety, and I'm constantly preparing for someone to die or for one of them to be a murderer. Even in the "happiest" Japanese BLs, there always exist this undercurrent of malice..and I'm attracted to it. >insert Ritsu aka El Diablo<

Moonlight Chicken - Eff "More than Friends, Less than Lovers!" That's child's play. Give me my HussyVille Gang Gang! Give me the "we've been breaking beds and each other's backs since day one, but I'm not even sure what his name is, and if I'm being honest, I don't really need to know" squad. Then, on top of that, it's EarthMix doing the devil's boogie?! I waited for over a year for this, and I don't say this often when it comes to men, but the anticipation was worth it.

HIStory 5: Love in the Future - I will always show up to a Taiwanese BL. They are like Rihanna at the Super Bowl. They do the bare minimum but are still very entertaining, include all the fan favorites (domestic bliss, high heat, office romances, good side couples, marriage equality), and pop out with a few surprises. Others may be disappointed, but I am ALWAYS pleased.

My School President - Did you read the list before this? There is a common underlying theme. Even if the show isn't messy, I'm going to find the mess and fixate on it, and it doesn't get stranger than Por's obsession with the chinchilla. GMM better get on merchandising this critter ASAP because there is a gold mine behind this, capitalizers.

Bed Friend - It hasn't started yet, but I'll be watching it. It has a Blue Boy and Red Rascal BUT they are not who would normally be coded that way, which means they are clearly going to have to resolve the reasons why they changed their behavior to cover up their obvious colors. Who hurt our Red Rascal that he turned into a nun? Who harmed our Blue Boy to make him the slutty slut he is? I cannot wait to find out!

Chains of Heart - One word: Papi. Wait, sorry. Let me try again: Poppy. The show has a plot, and I care about it, but...Poppy. He is playing a bad guy, which I got a glimpse of in Love Mechanics, so I'm hoping it means we get to see more of him, and I don't mean screen time, although I wouldn't be opposed to that either. Obviously, I have to be interested in the actual plot since he is a supporting character...but POPPY! mmmm, papi!

[farfarawayinthelandof]

Hi! I saw you don’t have any miraculous stuff yet. Can I request a Marinette x f! reader. Reader is new to the school and quickly becomes her friend and Marinette doesn’t know how to react when she finds out reader has a crush on her. She realizes that she fell for reader while she was hanging out with Adrian. Please.

MARINETTE X FEM!READER ONESHOT

Thank you so much for your request(s)! I absolutely love this one.

fem!reader

warnings: none!

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

As the students of Francoise Dupont got into the routine of the new school year, there was a last minute transfer. That transfer being you, Y/N. You were full of excitement and nerves to finally be starting at a new school, thrilled to meet new friends, but also nervous, for fear of being left out. Your fears has faded away, however, when you met your new classmates, especially her.

Her being Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president tasked with showing you around for the day. She had a creative and talented personality, and a helping attitude, and every task, favor, and assignment never seemed to be a problem, or worry for her. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, or with her.

By lunchtime, you had figured you wanted to be with her. You had also figured that half the class felt the same way, how could they not?

As you walked to the restroom at the end of lunch with Alya and Rose, about a week after you had first been introduced, they struck up a conversation about Marinette.

"You and Marinette are getting close? Should I have to watch my back so you don't replace me as her BFF?" Alya asks, with a light tone. Rose laughs.

You inhale sharply. "No! No, it's not like that! I would never! I-"

"Girl, relax." Alya laughs. You ease up a little bit. "I'm just teasing you. All the girls in our class are tight."

"Oh! That's nice to hear! I hope we can all be great friends."

Rose and Alya nod. "But anyway, about Marinette. You like her, don't you?" Rose asks.

'Was it that obvious?' You think woefully.

"I guess. But I know she likes Adrien." There was no point in hiding it. You trusted the two girls, and it was just a little crush.

Rose opens the door to the bathroom, holding it for you and Alya. As you thank the blonde, Alya speaks up. "I what it feels like to like someone who doesn't like you back. Nino used to have a crush on Marinette. Come to think of it, pretty much everyone in our class has had a crush on her at one point or another." Rose nods, laughing as she sprays some perfume on herself.

"Adrien?" You ask.

"That boy is absolutely clueless. His skull is *ahem* very thick. He's so dumb, for someone so smart." Alya says.

Rose agrees thoughtfully.

After your conversation with Alya and Rose, you return to your seat with newfound hope. Marinette must know Adrien is hopeless. Feeling bold, you come up with a plan.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

Marinette had only known you for a few weeks, however, she had already felt a connection with you. She was really looking forward to becoming better friends.

On another note, Marinette had also made plans with Adrien later in the day. She had been looking forward to this project ever since she had been paired up with the young model.

Stopping at her locker, she noticed you walking towards her. You looked nervous. Had you forgotten your locker combination?

“Hey Marinette!” You said, voice masking the uncertainty you felt.

Marinette smiled, turning her attention towards you. “Hi, Y/N!”

“So, um… I was wondering - and I know this might be sudden - but I was wondering if you wanted to go out… together?”

To say Marinette had been taken aback would be an understatement. And while she liked the forwardness, Marinette had to turn you down. Who knows what could happen with Adrien tonight, even if he’s a bit clueless?

“Y/N. Listen, I… Uh, appreciate-”

You sigh. “Let me stop you right there. I understand. Hopefully we can still be good friends.”

Marinette sighed in relief. “Yeah, friends!”

You nodded towards Marinette, signaling goodbye. Well, you tried, right? And they say you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

The ravenette couldn’t help but feel guilty as she walked to Adrien. Why were you the only thing going through her mind when Adrien was right there?

This question had repeated itself throughout Marinette’s head all afternoon.

Until she realized.

Marinette felt a connection with you she never had with anyone else. It was a deep admiration, but not putting you on a pedestal, no. She saw you as real, and attainable. Unlike Adrien.

“Hey, earth to Marinette! You look a bit pale..” Adrien says, confused.

“Heh, sorry Adrien.” How was she supposed to face you tomorrow? Somehow, Marinette knew she blew it.

‘Oh, I’m no good at love!’ Thought Marinette, woefully.

The next day, you greeted Marinette as usual. But she couldn’t help but want more. And you couldn’t, either. But what were you two to do? Wasn’t any chance you two would ever be together destroyed?

After school, it had begun to rain. You sighed in defeat. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your parent(s) were at work. There was no one to help you. You tried to ask Alya or Nino for a ride, but they already left before you could.

Damn.

“Hey, Y/N?” Said a timid voice.

You turned to find Marinette, sheltered by the school’s roof, standing behind you.

“Hi, Marinette!” You say cheerfully. You are doing your best to make sure that your confession doesn’t get in the way between you two.

“If you don’t have an umbrella, you can use mine” She said, smiling nervously.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. My parent(s) will be off soon, I can wait for them.”

“Please… or at least walk back to my house until you can get picked up.”

You struggle for a bit. That did sound like a good deal. Plus, you could show Marinette that you could be friends and not make it weird.

“Alright,” you say.

“Perfect!”

You and Marinette begin walking to her house, talking about all sorts of things, like new video games, the best ways to bake cookies, and current fashion trends. The conversation flows naturally, never leaving an awkward moment between the two of you.

Marinette now knew 100% that it was you, not Adrien that she liked. Everything with him felt forced, but with you, it was all natural, and so fun.

You both walked into the bakery, Marinette holding the door out for you while you walked in. You greeted Marinette’s parents having already met Tom at a school function.

Marinette walks you to her room where you both spend the afternoon playing video games and procrastinating homework.

It gets a little quiet after Marinette wins the match for the hundredth time, and she looks over to you.

“I’m… sorry. I hope my rejection didn’t make things awkward for us.”

You smiled, albeit fake, reassuringly. “No, no! It’s totally fine.” Not really sure what else to say, you stop there.

Marinette looks down at her hands. “The thing is, yesterday… when I was at Adrien’s house, I realized that I…”

Your internal dialogue was going crazy. ‘Oh my gosh, does she not want to be friends?! Doesn’t she want to be more than friends?! Please, spill it out!’

“… I really like you” Marinette finished.

Your head spins suddenly to face Marinette, giving you whiplash. You cannot believe what you just heard.

“You… do?” To be honest, you weren’t even 100% sure she liked girls.

Marinette nods.

But now… everything has changed. You smile to yourself.

“Cool”

“Cool?!”

“Yeah,” You say. “Let’s go out. Right now.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes!”

Grabbing your shoes in coat, with Marinette en suite, she grabs the black umbrella, and you both bid goodbye to her parents.

“Alright, where to first?” You ask her, laughing.

“I think I know just the place.”

“Well then, please,” you gesture your hand out to her. She grabs it. “Lead the way.”

I tried to not make this too long/dialogue heavy. I hope you liked it!

no beta, we're dying like men

[seijorhi]

Bully ~ Part II

Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)

TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw

Part I

‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’

The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.

The sooner you can get away from them, the better.

It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion. 

But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain. 

Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him. 

But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.

With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?

The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends. 

You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.

He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches. 

“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”

His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”

Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.

Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer. 

Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”

He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?

Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.

Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.

He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.

And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils. 

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself. 

And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness. 

Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him. 

It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you. 

Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it. 

“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.

Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.

Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.

Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze. 

He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.

“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.

Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.

And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day. 

“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”

You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.

You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it. 

So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”

You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”

“Or?” he prods.

“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”

Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.” 

He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise. 

Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–

“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…” 

But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams. 

It can’t be any worse than this.

He has to understand that. 

And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own. 

He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Who would I tell?”

—

Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers. 

He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.

He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had. 

And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place. 

It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that. 

And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.

—

You hardly see him the following morning. 

There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.

Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.

Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.

You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.

Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks. 

“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore. 

Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him. 

There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours. 

Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.

“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.

“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”

And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.

“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning. 

His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.

You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”

His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”

It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–

The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.

Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”

Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.

It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.

And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it. 

“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips. 

And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.

“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”

Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.

Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk. 

“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”

Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video. 

“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”

And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.

“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”

Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second. 

There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.

“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”

There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard. 

And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.

“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”

But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–

“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.

And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–

Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.

There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.

“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”

No.

Please god, no.

Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.

And that last little piece of you breaks.

[sugako]

after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

[koocycle]

play thing | drabble series (i).

pairing. basketball player!jungkook x female reader

summary. jungkook is aware of the fact that you’re not his to love, yet he’s eager to show you what you’re missing out on.

wc. 3065

warnings. none

taglist. if you’d like to be added, please send me an ask!

previous | next

‘‘You look really pretty today.’’

A hint of a barely visible flush creeps up your already heated cheeks upon hearing the words leaving his lips. You don’t want to show your vulnerability at such an everyday compliment, yet the act seems a bit too hard when your lips break into a grin you’d rather keep to yourself today - completely losing your focus under his heated gaze attempting to meet your own.

‘‘Thank you, Jungkook.’’

He tries to hide the smile that’s making an appearance on his face, but he finds your flustered state way too adorable to not be entertaining on this fine afternoon. He can tell you’re not used to getting compliments by the way you innocently play with the heavy fabric of your dress, pretending to dismiss the existence of the wet haired man in front of you, but he knows better than that. Better than this simple act of innocence you’re putting up for him. 

And he’s not making it any easier on you — not when he is looking at you like this. His entire figure is casually leaning back against the heavy door of the men’s locker room and his backpack hangs lazily over one of his shoulders as you can suspect that there’s nothing more in there besides a total of two pencils in desperate need for a new grinding.

‘‘You can look at me, you know?” He’s mumbling this time, words barely audible before his gaze shifts to his feet, his head tilting and the grimace not yet visible on his face. ‘‘Barely complemented you. I don’t bite.’’

His words make you shoot an eyebrow up your forehead, giving you the final strength to look him in the eye this time. You know exactly what he’s doing.

“I mean — unless you’re into that?”

There it was. The boyish grin just begging to show up, the hint of pure mischief continuing to gleam in his eyes — the kind he wouldn’t be able to hide even if he wanted to. You had expected it to come to this point already, had been waiting for it, actually.

You straighten your back, composing your posture in front of him. And he oh so desperately tries to not avert his eyes down your slightly pushed out chest. The lightweight fabric of your nude colored blouse is allowing him to catch a glimpse of your bra, but he won’t let his guard down.

“I’m not, actually.” You manage to answer smugly, a load of confidence washes over you as you already have a feeling as to where this is heading. This surprises him as well, the sudden hint of a tease clearly audible in your voice.

“Hm, no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Your friend dramatically rolls his eyes at the obvious lie, a glimpse of a pretty smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  He shifts his weight on both his feet now as he disregards the locker room door by itself, prepared to make his way over to you now – and you can already feel the beat of your heart in the base of your throat with each step he takes. Because he’s looking bolder than the days before. More daring – defiant, almost. Ready to take on the challenge and not willing to lose anytime soon.

His entire aura screams fuck me in the janitor’s closet five minutes before your next class starts.

No.

No.

 ‘‘Tell me what you are into then.’’ His eyebrow cockily raises up on his forehead as his head just slightly tilts, knowing he’s got you stuck in place. The confident expression you had written on your face completely dismissed.  

 You can’t handle him.

You clear you throat, announcing your defeat. “You know I got you guys take out?’’ The high pitched undertone in your voice betrays you – but what else do you have in your power when he stands in front of you like this? The warmth of his body this close to you, you’re actually able to feel him? ‘‘Chinese.. take-out..’’

Both of his eyebrows raise up this time, the surprise coating his features perfectly. ‘‘What?’’ as his gaze shifts to the barely open bag hanging on to your fingertips, you feel a little less intimidated before him. “Seriously?” his tattooed fingers curl around the shoulder straps of his backpack, “I love Chinese take-out. You’re an actual angel.”

When he’s right in front of you, his gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. You tell yourself he’s only interested in the food, but there’s too little space between your bodies for that to be true. His cologne is even stronger this time and it makes your mind all cloudy.

“Uh.. It’s just,” you immediately stop talking as you feel yourself grow hot under his presence, stumbling over your own words before you attempt to gulp your nerves away. “Just some sweet sesame chicken with fried rice and egg rolls.. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Still an angel.” He smiles down at you, pinching the tip of your chin just slightly before taking his backpack off and hastily rummaging through it. “Let me pay you back.”

“Oh no,” You immediately try to reassure him, “Absolutely not, Jeon. Over my dead body. You guys trained for over 5 hours, this is the least thing I could do. ”

You watch him pull an eyebrow up, a small smile appearing on his features. As if asking you why you wouldn’t want the money. As if you’re the crazy one here.

“___” He goes, the stern warning in his voice not being dismissed. “You just bought an entire meal for a team of fifteen hungry men. It’d be disrespectful not to pay you back, honestly.”

“You’re not paying me back. End of conversation, Jeon.” You point an accusing finger his way, a cute smile on your face.

Nonetheless, your finger gets dismissed by him as he shakes his head in disapproval before rummaging through his backpack yet again.

Pulling out a rather small wallet, he opens up and goes through it.

“This should be enough.”

He holds the money in between two fingers in the air, pretty pink lips turning into a knowing smile when your eyes widen at the paper in his grip.

“That’s way too much, Jungkook.” A snicker leaves him when you cup your smaller hands over his bigger ones, pushing the 50 dollar bill back to his chest. “Way too much. Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you?” He challenges, eyebrows raising as he waits for you to say something, “I honestly don’t mind paying you back, ___. If anything, it would make me feel better knowing I paid for my own lunch.”

“I mind, though. We’re not doing this.”

“Come on,” He whined, tilting his head slightly but still remaining eye contact with you. “You bought me food, this is the least thing I can do.”

“I bought all of you food, not just you.” You correct him, pointing a long finger at him. He thinks it’s such an adorable act and can’t stop himself from wrapping his entire palm around your pointer finger. “You’ll treat me on Mexican next time, won’t you?’’

When your hand moves in its place to intertwine your fingers together, the last thing Jungkook does is protest. He proudly accepts your soft hand to take place in his own. His thumb gazes over the smooth skin as he can’t help the grin from appearing.

“You win.” He states in defeat, voice lowering a few volumes down until he goes mute, you almost don’t notice the “for now,” he mouths after.

Beats of silence pass between your figures. Your hands are still intertwined and there’s too little space between you to be seen as two average friends with platonic intentions only. The silence hanging in the air isn’t uncomfortable, but rather peaceful. 

You don’t see Jungkook that often, and that’s partly due to both of your packed schedules, growing stack of assignments, and his unending amount of training sessions in basketball court. Nevertheless, he is a great friend to you, and you’re grateful to share this friendship with him. You’re comfortable around him, and you’re sure it’s the other way around as well. That’s an obvious fact considering the way you’re standing here with him. Holding hands with giggly expressions on your faces. 

‘‘Stealing my girlfriend, Jeon?’’ 

It’s crazy how fast the distance between you and Jungkook enlarges within a second when the heavy locker room door comes to an abrupt open. You feel as shocked as you look like with the sudden change of atmosphere, eyes slightly wide when a startled, and rather uncomfortable smile finds its way on your lips.

That’s right; Jungkook kind of seemed to forget about this dude.

‘‘Oh I- uh.. we were just.. talking.’’ Jungkook manages to blurt out, fingers reaching out the scratch the back of his neck. 

‘‘I know. Don’t sweat it, man.’’ The new figure that enters the scene dismisses Jungkook somewhat faster than needed after his attempt on reassuring him, now centering his eyes on you. He stands in between you as if creating a shield around you – as if creating some sort of barrier between you. His hands are slightly up in the air, presumably ready to embrace you in his arms.

‘‘Minho..’’ His name trails off your lips in a rather hesitant manner, Jungkook can’t help but notice. ‘‘How did training go?’’ Your tone is so soft and delicate, filled with affection. 

The larger male takes a few more steps towards you, invading your space as his hands slip around the small of your back. You almost don’t notice the rest of the guys walking out of the locker room as well with him filling your sight, allowing them to have a front row seat on the scene unfolding in front of them. 

‘‘It went fine. What’re you doing here, hm?’’ His words are slightly mumbled before he pushes your body more against his own, his smell overtaking you. He barely gives you some time to process the question before his lips slam against yours, taking you in a hungry kiss. 

The guys watch the scene expand in front of their noses, a few ‘‘oohs’’ thrown in there when your boyfriend deepens the kiss even more, causing you to be thrown off guard a bit. 

‘‘Minho,’’ You try to speak in between the kisses, but he won’t budge. Nervous laughter manages to escape you, ‘‘We’re not alone.’’

Jungkook wants to look the other way a little too badly, but his eyes are somehow still glued on the show you’re currently putting out. He would rather not call the heavy feeling in his stomach something along the lines of disgust, but it’s hard for him not to with the way his insides are turning upside down.

“Better find a room for those two or we’ll be stuck here all day.” It’s Min Yoongi who snickers beside the damp haired boy, nudging his side with his elbow. But Jungkook can’t seem to laugh at the attempted joke. Instead, his fingers are tightening around the straps of his backpack once again, trying to collect his cool.

Your hand is carefully placed on your boyfriend’s chest in attempt to calm the kiss down before he finally quits the whole act all together.

‘‘Can’t even kiss my girlfriend now?’’ Jungkook wants to wipe the grin that's slowly but surely growing on his face off. And the feeling is only starting to increase when the large male turns back to his teammates, a disgusting smirk visible on his features. 

Such an ass.

Jungkook can’t help but scoff at the sight – and visibly so. He’s just using you to show off. 

‘‘I uh..’’ You start but trail off the rails soon enough, making the attention turn back to you, ‘‘I brought you guys some take out, you texted me that you guys have been training all day and I figured out-”

“You brought us take out?”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when Kim Namjoon speaks up from behind, eyes bulging out of his head before slipping past his teammates’ bodies. And even when he eventually stands before you, trying to peek inside the plastic bag in your hands, you can’t help but note the huge amount of height difference between you. No wonder his coach never let him rest on one of the benches during all the competitions played so far - he’s easily one of the tallest players on the field.

It doesn’t take a lot of peeking before a gasp escapes his lips, “Dude - she got them egg rolls, I’ve been craving those all week.’’ Eyes buckle out of his scalp, ‘’All damn week.”

Jungkook can see you shooting a warm smile at Namjoon from afar, content with the way it seems to light the male up – pretty dimples making an appearance as his nearly perfect set of teeth shine brightly in your view. He can almost compare you to a child who just gave their parents the perfect valentines gift, looking all bubbly and excited over this.

‘‘I got some chicken as well.’’ You thrillingly whisper to your side, another set of giggles escaping you once Namjoon, once again, is ready to attack that plastic bag in your grip.

‘‘I didn’t expect you to come with take-out, though.’’ Minho sighs heavily, catching your attention almost immediately as you look at him with a huge set of eyes. The tone of his voice is disgustingly sweetened up as he swallows you back into his embrace, hands dissolving around the small of your back, not caring about the remaining players gauging at the two of you from the other side of the hall. ‘‘We already made plans, babe.’’

You don’t hold on to him the same way he does to you, Jungkook notices. The bright gleam in your eyes from before has already disappeared, now replaced with a frown between your brows. And he hurts for you.

‘‘You can’t reschedule?’’ You ask hazily, almost afraid to ask the question. ‘‘I know Joon would like some take-out.’’ Your hair falls out of your face when you spare Namjoon a pretty glance from over your shoulder.

Yet your boyfriend shakes his head, ‘‘Not this time. You should’ve told me before you went all out to please my teammates like this, love.’’ He titters at his own joke, thinking he’s funny. Still, a few guys besides Jungkook seem to snicker a bit at your rosy-looking cheeks. But he can’t bash an eyelash.

If no one is going to say it, he will.

‘‘Of course we can reschedule.’’ Jungkook speaks up, catching the eyes of your boyfriend immediately, quickly followed by your own. ‘‘We can go for some fast food any other day.’’

When Minho raises a cocky eyebrow up his forehead, the question already written on his features, Jungkook heaves out a tired sigh.

‘‘Come on, man. She bought us an entire meal.’’ His open palm points to the bag, which is still hanging around your curled fingers, reddening the tips completely.  

‘‘It’s not like I asked her to.’’ He bites, almost as if what he had said offended him. ‘‘Right..?’’ He’s looking back at you now, fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he hides them behind your ears. An irky smile visible on his face.

‘‘Right.’’ He confirms once he sees you nodding, placing a hasty kiss on the soft surface of your cheek. ‘‘I’ll call you after. Promise.’’

You’re not worried about him not contacting you – that’s the least thing on your list you’re concerned about. But he doesn’t care. Will not now, will not ever.

‘‘Okay..’’ You manage to say, your voice coming out softer than you had expected. And even though his embrace hadn’t really done anything to warm you up, the void sweeping up to you once he leaves you in place feels a little heavier right now.

‘‘I’m out of here.’’ The guy states, convinced the other guys will follow after him when his hands are raised besides his head. As he turns around without a second glance your way, your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of sight, heading for the exit.

Namjoon, the one whose mouth was watering at the idea of take-out just a minute ago is the first one who breaks the uncomfortable silence. ‘‘Next time, little one.’’ He pats your head gently, making backwards steps to disappear in a second. ‘‘Thank you, though.’’ He’s shooting you an apologetic look before big steps follow your boyfriend’s down the stairs.

Min Yoongi is the next one who leaves the scene to what it is, followed by a few other guys. But unlike Namjoon, these guys don’t do much other than gifting you a few uneasy smiles — ready to leave as soon as possible. And for some reason, it makes you feel even worse.

The silence that follows when it’s just you and Jungkook standing in front of each other hurts more, though. You’re embarrassed, he can see that much.

“Come here.” Your friend spreads his arms for you to jump into, yet you don’t make a move to do exactly that. “We’ll get out of here and eat it together. It might be a little much—” He embraces you in his warmth when you don’t attempt anything, “but do you want to see how many rice cakes I can stuff in my mouth?”

You only glare at him, not having it in you to laugh at the attempted joke when your boyfriend’s irritated expressions occupies your mind.

“I know you’re tempted.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you, close to succeeding in cheering you up. And it nearly makes you want to give in and have just as a good time as Minho is about to have — but you don’t have the heart to do so.

Instead, your heart is seeking for validation.

Hence you decide to push him away. Only for you to doubt your previous actions for the upcoming few hours.

“It’s alright, Guk.” You smile at him, hand on his chest as you push him away. “I was gonna share some with my roommates anyways.”

The excuse sounds weak to the ear, even to you. But it’s not stopping you from making your way out of the hall before he seems to progress it, mind occupied with your insecurities.

[poedamneron01]

DREAMBOAT.

summary: you are new to AEW, a well known women’s wrestler for your daring and ballsy matches, Kenny is intrigued after the Bucks show him some of your matches, so intriguing he makes it his mission to find you and get to know you more.

Kenny Omega x f!reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing

Kenny Masterlist.

Kenny walked into The Elite’s shared locker room for a jam packed night of Wednesday Dynamite. “Yo, Ken did you hear about Y/N being signed?” Matt asked excitedly, looking up from his phone for a moment and Kenny sent him nod “Yeah, I heard she is a freak in the ring.” Kenny replied as he took a seat beside Nick and the brothers nodded “Dude, you should see this footage Matt found from one of her matches, six stars.” Matt shoved the phone in front of Kenny as he replayed the highlights of your match against their good friend Marty Scurll from a couple of weeks ago. Yeah, you were a fucking freak. Kenny’s eyes widened when he watched you take a DDT off the top rope out onto a table on the floor. “I think I am in love.” Kenny blurted out causing the guys to laugh “Is she here tonight?” He asked and Nick nodded “Yeah I think I seen her get dropped off when we arrived.” Kenny nodded, he made it his mission to find you and introduce himself.

You walked backstage with Tony Khan, familiarising yourself with all the different places you might need, like catering, medical and locker rooms. “You have your own locker room, we have you close to the gorilla so you don’t get lost.” Tony informed you as he opened the door to a decent sized room with a couple of couches and tables. You smiled and rolled in your suitcase full of gear and whatever you would need for tonight “Thank you,” you paused and turned to look at Tony “I am so excited to be here Tony, you have no idea.” He smiled brightly “No, thank you for being here. I’ll leave you to unpack and start preparing yourself, here’s a script for the show, it explains everything for your segment. If you have any questions or worries someone in the gorilla should be able to help if I’m not there personally!” You nodded and took the script from him with a small thank you, before he left and closed the door behind him.

You could not believe you were here. You had finally made it to the big league’s. All your crazy and daring matches, all the injuries and time off had finally payed off! You wheeled your suitcase over and lifted it onto the table and unzipped it, pulling out your gear and laying it out like you always did. You pulled out your headphones and slipped them on, playing your pump up playlist loudly before grabbing the script for the show and your phone, before heading towards catering to start preparing.

“Hey Tony!” Kenny called as he walked down the hallway towards the ring “Hey Kenny, how are you?” Kenny smiled and nodded “Not too bad, hey where is the new signee? I figured I’d introduce myself.” Tony nodded “Her locker room is the closest to the Gorilla.” Kenny nodded and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder “Thanks man!” He took off, walking quite quick and his heart belted his chest hard. But why was he nervous? It was just some girl from the Indies? Only you weren’t any girl, you were the best women’s wrestler in the business. Kenny finally reached your locker room and knocked a couple times, though was met with no answer. He frowned and looked around for a few moments, maybe you were out at the ring?

You were sat in catering, reading through the script, the segment you would be in specifically, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously. You were supposed to come out during Britt Baker vs Ruby Soho and ambush Ruby, seemingly aligning yourself with Britt, but would turn on her too. Do some spontaneous moves and call it a night, no biggie? You got up and set off for the ring, another thing you did ceremoniously before every show, music blaring in your ears. Once you walked out onto the stage, your eyes widened at how big the arena was, sure you knew AEW was pulling huge crowds in now, but you hadn’t realised how big they really were. You noticed the ring was completely empty, maybe it was because you were pretty early for a show? You walked down the ramp, eyes darting across the arena and thousands of empty seats, and the anxiety finally began to sink in. You pulled off your headphones, placing them with your phone and script on the floor beside the steel steps, before jumping on the apron and sliding into the ring. You clasped your hands together and did a few small circles in the centre of the ring in awe of the stadium, it brought tears to your eyes.

Kenny made his way out onto the stage, the stadium eerily quiet, though he spotted a figure stood in the ring and smiled to himself. He made his way down the ramp which caught your attention “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.” He held out his hands as he rolled into the ring with you, leaning against the top rope “No, no I was just off in my own little world.” You replied and looked over at the man you noticed who was only one of the best in the world. “I’m Tyson or Kenny.” He extended his arm out, palm open and you nodded “Yeah, anyone and everyone knows who you are.” You chuckled with a smile and slid your hand into his, shaking it “Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You told him and he nodded, curls bobbing “Welcome to AEW.” He continued to smile and you exhaled sharply with a nod “Thanks,” you paused and sat down in the middle of the ring, leaning back on your hands “I’m not going to lie, I’m freaking the fuck out.” You blurted out and he followed your actions, sitting down against the bottom rope “Yeah, I get it.” He nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “You keen to give me any advice?” You asked with a hopeful gaze, meeting his eyes and you noticed how gentle and inviting they really were “Honestly, just have fun. You know your craft, we won’t make you change it. Just keep being you because that is what the people want to see.”

“Wow, you know you could become a great inspirational speaker.” You teased him and he laughed “I seen your match with Marty earlier, it was fucking nuts.” He complimented and you felt yourself blush “I bet it’s nothing compared to your matches, I am a huge fan of your work, especially your time over in New Japan.” Kenny was in shock, how could a pretty girl like you, enjoy his work? “Thank you.” He fell silent, admiring the structure of face “Y/N I wouldn’t stress too much, everyone will love you.” He added quickly and you puffed your cheeks out as you exhaled deeply once more “God I hope so.” Kenny swallowed hard, “Did you want to grab some food after the show? I know what it’s like to be in a new company, some friends can help.” You took a double take, biting your lip to suppress the grin from spreading across your face. You nodded, looking over at him once more “Yeah, yeah that’d be really nice.” Kenny nodded “Just us two okay?” He added and you giggled softly “Yes, that’s fine.” He nodded, you were a dreamboat of a woman, and he only wanted more of you.

“There you are Kenneth!” You looked past Kenny and spotted two men walking down the ramp and towards you both. “Oh hey Y/N! Welcome!” The shorter one smiled and you could tell immediately it was Nick and Matt Jackson, The Young Bucks “Hey, thank you.” You stood up and greeted them, shaking each of their hands “Did we interrupt something?” Nick asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he looked between you and Kenny. You grinned “Only everything.” You teased and rocked back and forth on your feet “Do you want to be in our youtube series?” Matt asked as he whipped out his phone and you became nervous all of a sudden “No, no I don’t want to be a bother.” Kenny noticed your change in demeanour “No, you won’t be a bother at all come on!” Matt waved his hand in the air before looking over at Kenny “Do you want to join The Elite? We need a new member and you are a perfect fit!” Nick exclaimed excitedly and you shrugged “I mean, only if you guys are down, it is your thing after all.”

Kenny looked between the boys “How about we make it a progressive thing, like film us walking out onto the stage and see her in the ring? We just come out randomly on some Rampages and Dynamites and then eventually ask her to join?” You were surprised by how open and inviting they were and Matt and Nick nodded. “Alright, I’ll go and get Brandon so he can film we’ll be back!” Nick and Matt left you and Kenny in the ring and you laughed softly “You really want me in your group?” You asked in disbelief and Kenny nodded “We could use someone awesome like yourself, we can talk more about it at dinner if you want?” Kenny felt like all his chat and spark disappeared when talking to you, you left him like a teenage boy in high school. You nodded “Yeah, that sounds great.”

God Kenny was falling hard already.