#safe spaces are a joke… but keep the women away from us they said

[aloeverawrites]

The patriarchy says men can’t relate to women.

It says that you always have to put other men first, always.

Your wife is a nag, your sister is a bother and an annoyance, your daughter is a burden. When he says “women am I right?” about your family members, you’re supposed to nod and laugh along with him. Ally alongside a stranger over the women you’ve known for years because women, am I right? You’re both men. By the grace of his gender he understands you more then a family member ever could.

You can’t be interested in girly stuff, heaven forbid teenage girl stuff. You like bands until teenage girls are into them and then they’re posers and name the songs because get out of my space don’t you know we can’t be in the same space?? I can’t be like you. I can make horrible jokes about you, demean you, generally look down on you but I can’t be like you. That’s the sin.

Stay away from chick flicks, pink, anything that women have left their painted glittery fingerprints on. If your friend hands you her purse stand there with the most uncomfortable expression and make sure to project put upon expressions at every man on the vicinity so he knows you’re suffering.

Always make sure you’re acceptable to your male friends and male coworkers, they are your priority your social currency. And a woman trying to be your friend is just a pick me, the only reason a woman is trying to be around a man is so he might date her. They just want male approval. Those poor things. They want to be one of the boys. Because no girl can like beer and sports. Anyway move, can’t you see Saturdays are for the boys, we’re going to the man cave, the sanctuary from all the women, no girls allowed sign on the door. You look at your friend to see if he approves. He does, good.

You want to stop drinking but that’s how you bond with your men. Your statues is from being able to handle your liquor, being able to hurt yourself just enough that you’ve proven your manliness. You thought about going vegan but they’d make fun of you. Hurting other things is a part of it as well. You have to be the strongest one.

And men, if you like women. If you like hanging around your female friends, or your mom (you mamas boy) or your sister you’re a sissy. If you value women, care about their opinions or give advice on their hair or listen to their debates about the right dress, well you’re gay.

That’s the only explanation for caring about a woman.

You’re not a real man because to be a man is to be absent of anything “woman”. Men are from mars women are from Venus and we are completely, completely separate species and not the same one put down two paths of blue and pink.

There are so, so many differences between men and women there are too many to count I can’t even get into it and it’s not the fact that one calls themselves men and one calls themselves women. No thats… there has to be more than that.

And we hate the people who change from men and women because what do you mean the line is that thin. That there are “female” traits waiting in my dna, that we are the same species after all and our similarities are waiting in my bones.

Because then what keeps me from everything we joke about with her. All the violence of being a woman… that’s not me that’s not because I did everything right because I did all the man things and I followed all the rules. And the men and god forbid the girls who were secretly among us all the time, the gays ones the girlish ones well yeah we treated them like women. They didn’t follow the rules. It’s easy to be a woman but god please don’t treat me like one.

Because being a man is a set of rules of expectations lest you be thrown out but it’s also a biological fact, and you’ll always be one but ban estrogen because that could change.

We joke with our friends we perform correctly and at the end of the day it’s still that woman is human and it’s in your bones. Half of your worlds your cultures you try to keep yourself uninfected by it sneaks up your mind and into your heart disgusting. You’ve sunken your nails into your arm as though you can pull it out out your skin and when you lift them off, the lines they left on your skin they’re pink. No, no wait they’re darker you’re safe.

But when you look into your mirror and you look into your eyes.

Damn it.

You really shouldn’t have cried.

[mykoreanlove]

Territory

If it were up to you, you’d probably keep your boyfriend hidden away in the basement of your apartment.

Okay, maybe not the actual basement, but definitely tucked away somewhere safe—far from the prying eyes of other women. Lucky for you, Hyunjin didn’t need much convincing to stay inside anyway.

He loved being home, spending hours drawing or dancing in his little studio, his sacred space.

You’d often find him completely immersed in his work, the crease on his forehead deepening as he painted, lost in his own world. Other times, he’d be practicing his dance moves in front of the mirror, his favorite way to stay fit.

You loved that he was such a homebody, but you knew you couldn’t keep him there forever.

“I’m so excited to go out with you tonight, baby,” Hyunjin beamed, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

“So am I, Hyun,” you replied, kissing him quickly, trying to hide the little white lie.

“We both look so good tonight. Everyone’s going to be watching us,” he giggled, clearly enjoying himself. “But I’ll only be watching you,” he added, his voice dropping seductively.

The club was packed, and no matter where you turned, you felt eyes on you. You spotted your friends quickly, gripping Hyunjin’s hand as you made your way over.

“Holy shit, you actually brought Hyunjin?” one of them asked, clearly surprised.

“Couldn’t exactly lock him in the house,” you joked, only half-serious.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “Let’s have some fun tonight, babe. Okay?”

The first shots hit fast, and soon you were able to relax, your earlier worries fading into the background. You danced—alone, with your friends, with Hyunjin—letting the heavy bass guide your movements. Sultry, sexy, lost in the rhythm.

“Fuck, you move so sexy, y/n. We should go out more often,” Hyunjin murmured, licking his pink lips as he watched you.

Panic flickered inside you at the thought alone. The idea of going out with him more often wasn’t exactly appealing. Just like that, the alcohol’s effect faded, and your ugly insecurities began to creep back in.

“I’m going to get us drinks, Hyun. Wait for me,” you said, kissing him before quickly heading to the bar. One of your friends followed you, picking up on your sudden shift.

“Let me help you with the drinks,” she offered.

“Thanks,” you sighed in relief, grateful for her silent support.

“It’s going well with Hyunjin, right?” she asked.

You nodded, smiling at the thought of him. He made you so happy. As the bartender handed over your drinks, you turned to head back, only to stop in your tracks.

Hyunjin was dancing—looking incredible, confident, and happy. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one who noticed. A stunning girl approached him, younger, fitter, and undoubtedly beautiful. Your stomach churned, and you knew it wasn’t the alcohol.

“I want to talk to you,” the girl smiled at him, her voice dripping with confidence.

Hyunjin stopped dancing, glancing at her before responding, “No, thank you.”

“Why not? I look good, don’t I?” she purred, squeezing her perky boobs and turning around, giving him a view of her curves. “We’d look so good together.”

His eyes briefly followed her movements, trailing over her body before settling back on her face.

“I’m going to kill this bitch,” your friend muttered, fuming beside you.

“No, wait,” you said, needing to see what would happen next. Was Hyunjin like the others? Was he just another guy who couldn’t resist temptation? Would he leave you like all the ones before him?

The girl touched his arm, batting her lashes and licking her lips seductively.

Out of nowhere, Hyunjin burst into laughter, a deep, genuine chuckle escaping him as he swatted her hand away.

“You’re not even worth looking at. Now get lost,” he said, his voice cold and dismissive.

The girl grabbed his face, trying to force him to look at her. “You sure about that?” she whispered.

“Hold these,” you handed the drinks to your friend, striding over to Hyunjin with purpose. You pushed the girl aside and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss, your lips molding against his under the club’s flashing lights. You could feel him smiling against your lips, and as you pulled back, you shot the girl a glare, flipping her off.

“Is that clear enough for you, or are you just that slow?” you snapped.

Furious, the girl cursed under her breath and stormed off.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, grinning from ear to ear. “Baby, were you jealous?” he teased.

“No,” you lied.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone serious.

“Okay, fine. Yes, I was jealous,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“You know every other girl repels me, right? Like, they actually make me physically sick,” he said, his eyes wide as he tried to get his point across. “My soul is too entangled with yours to even think about entertaining other girls.You’re the only one for me, Y/N. I’m all yours.”

You grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the exit.

“Where are we going?” he asked, confused.

“Home, obviously,” you replied, moving quickly.

“But why?”

“Because I need to fuck you, Hyunjin. I need our bodies, our souls merge into one. I need to feel your love. Right now, please,” you confessed, breathless.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise at your boldness. “Taxi!” he shouted, running after you without ever letting go of your hand.

“Taxi!”

[eldritchamy]

We probably won’t see it in great detail in the campaign itself, for a number of reasons (not the least of which is that this is a fade-to-black campaign that has to be Twitch-safe), but I’m just thinking about the symmetry of Laudna and Imogen and what it’s going to be like the first time they have sex (if ever, because it’s very possible for Laudna to be played as ace, which Imogen would of course respect, but just hypothetically and for no self indulgent reasons whatsoever).

They really mirror each other in such beautiful ways. They have a deeply intimate relationship built on years of comfort and trust and the safety that they find in each other. They are each other’s tether, and have the kind of emotional home in each other to have said so before they acknowledged these feelings.

These two women are absolutely reverent for each other.

They’ve been traveling together for at least two years. They went to a red light district together where they thought the tiefling girls and their tassels were pretty. Imogen canonically experiences the thoughts and feelings of the people around her, and experienced that in a red light district. We’ve known that for a year.  In the negative space between the things she said about it, that was all but an admission of Imogen having experienced attraction to the female body. In Laudna’s company. During the time they spent traveling alone together. And meta-character jokes aside, Imogen has expressed pretty clearly that she finds Vex’ahlia beautiful. The woman Matilda Bradbury was chosen to represent for her similar appearance. (I mean we all knew this girl was gay.)

And these are two women who were driven from their homes by traumatic experiences with strange magic. Both of their bodies are marked with the scars of what that magic has done to them, and how that magic has chased them away from the homes they used to have. Laudna by her hanging and resurrection at the Sun Tree, Imogen by the will of some god-devouring monster imprisoned in the Red Moon. They literally have a sun and moon parallel hard coded into their character designs. They found each other on the road and found a kinship that neither of them have known from anyone else, even with the rest of the Hells, though those relationships are significant to them in other ways.

I definitely think their relationship will be healthier for the fact that they HAVE met the rest of these people. Especially for Laudna to have that rock-steady friendship with Ashton, who is such a great source of stability and mutual respect and emotional wisdom for her. Both of them have known acceptance from other people now, but the profundity of that connection they share with each other is still so deeply special, and the rest of the Hells give them that perspective. They both have the potential to trend towards unhealthy codependency, especially in their isolation, if not for these other people around to keep them from falling. The M9 were thought of as a much more chaotic neutral party than Vox Machina and their heroes-of-the-world story. But Laudna and Imogen might be two of the most neutrally-aligned characters we’ve seen so far (except Fearne). Both of them have been burned by the world, and there’s a part of each of them that would let the world burn back if that’s what it took to protect each other. Their moralities could truly fall in any direction with the right circumstances.

They would follow each other into hell as long as they were together, but it’s better that Orym is there to remind Imogen that his family died at the hands of the people she’s not sure she disagrees with. Laudna and Imogen are practically MADE for each other, and everyone they’ve met on the road since has picked up on the force of that connection, but having friends around them will make their relationship better than it would have been if they were still living alone with no one to keep the darker side of each of them in check.

They are, despite the current circumstances, so much better off having their relationship go in this direction NOW, as opposed to during their time together pre-campaign, or without so much intra-party development behind them.

But that is where it all started: when they ran away together and made home after home, protecting each other and that connection above all else, fostering this bond that they have, rooting each other to the earth with pure, unconditional acceptance.

Imogen was the first person who didn’t run away or try to chase Laudna away with pitchforks. Laudna was the first person Imogen could hear as music, a soothing presence in a world of psychic noise. And they found a quiet, private peace in each other that neither of them believed they would ever have again. They ARE each other’s home. They give each other something that neither believed they could ever have.

That connection, that intimacy, brings each of them a kind of comfort and trust that they have never known from anyone else. There’s no one else that could make either of them feel so safe with someone else’s body. One dragged back to life by magic twice, and one so flooded with power that it runs across her skin like inflamed, bruised veins. And yet there’s no judgment either of them will ever have to fear from the other. There’s such a beautiful, comfortable intimacy and safety between them.

And I really think that’s going to translate into something magical.

So many soft, reverent touches. Laudna tracing those scars, Imogen feeling that slow but full heartbeat, hearing only music. Two bodies scarred in different ways by strange magic, finding the safety and comfort of home in each other.

They just fit.

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Ok so I have a few things about taylor and swifties I need to get off my chest and I hope I make sense because the words are stuck in my head.

These are my opinions and you are welcome to disagree

1. After two months or listening to different songs on the album and revisiting songs I still think she is lost but not as I originally thought.

I think she is lost personally and is stuck in her career. I feel like she has certain goals and dreams that people are her not agreeing with. I think she is tired of having to keep fighting for stuff. I feel like many of the songs have double meaning that we are not seeing.

I know a lot of people think the songs are about matty but for me the songs go beyond him. There is more to the story than we know.

Maybe I am projecting or something I don’t know but the albydoeant sound like a breakup album or the short relationship she had with matty. To me some lyrics read like there is more but she is letting people think it’s about matty to market it (which is shitty)

I always believed she wielded her relationship as weapons which is why there isn’t much about Joe on the album, because he was never a weapon, he was more but they simply didn’t work. She did use the breakup though because needed something to hold on to from a certain life time.

And this is not defending her or finding excuses this is simply a conclusion I came too.

2. Travis Kelsey is not the love of her life. He is something giving her something opposite of what she had for 6 years and that’s it. Nothing deeper than that.

On a different note, I went from omfg he is the cutest thing to this make gives me “I will hit a woman and justify it” vibes. I swear it was a flip of the switch. I don’t know what it was it just happened and that scares me for many reasons.

3. The unnecessary criticism of her is taking away from viable criticism. Like saying she is copying other people and saying she doesn’t sing live is so stupid. She does sing live I was at the eras tour and she is singing live for three and a half hours weather the haters like it or not. And even at that it’s not an insult to her it’s an insult on her vocalist and her band more than anything.

Like please use the criticism space fairly so it doesn’t take away from the important issues

Sorry for the long message I had more to say but I am tired sleepy and lost my train of thought 😂

This is always a safe space for yon to rant, anon 💜

1. I’ve always wondered whether artists (including Taylor) include a double meaning in their work that’s not meant to be understood by their audience. Like hidden clues meant for their muses or purely for themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if this were the case with Taylor.

Of course, there’s always going to be more to the story. I like Joe Alwyn’s quote about this, “There is always going to be a gap between what is known and what is said. I have made my peace with that.”

At the end of the day, all we can do is theorise.

2. I feel similar about TK. I went from feeling indifferent about him to feeling disgusted over him. For me, it happened after he showed his anger issues towards his coach and when I heard that he makes rape jokes and has called women “breeders”. His response to the Harrison Butker speech was also very telling of his ignorance and his privilege as a straight white man.

3. Completely agree. Yes, she is choosing to be silent on genocide. Yes, she’s a climate criminal. No, her song-writing is not “bad” and no, her singing isn’t “bad” either.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie has fae blood in him. It's why he survived. He never thought anything of it. It was a story that his mother had told him about when he was younger, and he believed it when he was a kid. She told him about faes in their families and how they could grant one wish and one wish only. He had to say the words in order to grant the wishes. That story was the reason why he loved Dungeons and Dragons, Lord of the Rings. It was the magic of the stories that sent a thrill through his veins. He could feel it pounding away in his blood.

One night, Eddie was lying next to Steve on his couch. It was one of those horrible nights where they both had trouble keeping the nightmares away, even with the comfort of their newly minted friendship. They decided to get drunk and a little bit cross faded with the weed Eddie had brought over. Steve had been a little nervous. He had only drank and smoked weed once before. He had something weird when it happened. Eddie promised not to judge.

"I get jealous of women sometimes," Steve said.

"How's that?" Eddie asked.

"Most of them can get pregnant, I wish I could pregnant," Steve said sadly. "But I am a man."

Steve stroked his belly softly, pouting. Eddie looked over at him, wanting so badly to kiss the pout right off of his lips.

"Is it - I mean - you want to be a woman?" Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, no. I still want to be a man. I want to be a pregnant man. I wish men could get pregnant like men born as men also could get pregnant. That would be cool," Steve said.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie said in a cool voice, and Steve looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"Your wish is granted," Eddie said, cupping his cheeks.

"I feel funny," Steve said and promptly passed out along with Eddie.

When they woke up the next morning, there was a news story about men passing out all across the world, but since Eddie and Steve were hungover, they hadn't heard about it. Over the next few weeks, things began to develop between the two young men, and eventually, they went from being friends to being lovers. They hadn’t thought anything of it when the condom broke. They were both clean.

"And it's not like I can get you pregnant," Eddie joked, and Steve froze underneath him. "Sorry, Stevie."

When Steve started getting sick, he was afraid the worst was happening. It was side effects from being in the Upside Down coming to kick him in the ass. When the doctor had come in and told him the news, Steve had laughed.

"What?!" Steve exclaimed.

"You're pregnant, Mr. Harrington," the doctor him.

"But - but I'm a guy. . .," Steve trailed off.

"This is a safe space, Mr. Harrington, I want you to know that you can trust me. My brother is in the same situation," the doctor replied and then lowered her voice. "Are you having a sexual relationship with a man?"

"W-what? Why does that matter?" Steve asked.

"How do you think you got pregnant, Mr. Harrington?" The doctor asked. "You had sex with a man. I am going to give you my brother's number if you ever need to talk. I'm an ally, Mr. Harrington and normally I wouldn't ask about someone's sexual orientation, but these are . . .complicated times, and I wanted you to know that you are not alone. I also made sure that no one else saw your blood results. If you ever need anything. . ."

When Eddie came home that evening, Steve was looking pale and staring at a picture of a sonogram.

"I'm pregnant, Eddie, and there are other. . . Other men like me," Steve said.

"Shit. . .fuck, the stories are true. My mom was right," Eddie said, his eyes wide.

A/N: When I was a lot younger, I used to think men were secretly jealous of women because they could get pregnant and men couldn't. I don't know why I thought of this, but I did, I like to imagine that Steve wishes that he could get pregnant. It's probably weird, I know.

[personasintro]

bruhhhhh what about a drabble in which y/n is a little TOO drunk and jimin and tae cant handle her after they brought her back to her apartment so jk the mf king comes to beat her ass 🥊🥊🥊 ( and he is like able to shush her and shes intimidated by him ) 😏✨🤭

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: I hope you’re enjoying these!! please let me know what you think about it and if I should write more of them x

##

You’re not the one to usually get fucked up.

With friends like Taehyung and Jimin, you’re usually the one looking after them and calling them a cab so they get home safely. They’re the wild ones that love to party, talk to other women and spend the night making out with them, if not inviting them to their apartments for a casual hook-up.

So, when the time comes and you tell yourself to “fuck it” because you’ve to loosen up and release all the tension from your new job and the responsibility that comes with it, you’re the one that needs to be taken care of.

However, even though you’ve planned to drink a little more tonight than you usually do, you haven’t planned to get fucked up at one of those nights where Taehyung insisted on going to a club. Again.

To be honest, you’re not sure what he likes about clubbing that much. You don’t like it but you go, because it’s always fun with your friends. But there are other factors that make you literally go “nooo” when someone proposes to go clubbing. Like all the people, sweaty people, that don’t know anything about personal space. Some of them probably carry perfumes, most of them being women because you could always smell the mix of different perfumes whenever you’d enter the restroom. It’s not a nice smell though. It makes you vomit and especially when you’ve had enough.

Not mentioning all the intrusive guys who are drunk and just looking for a vagina they could fuck.

It sounds as if you’re going clubbing often, but you’re not. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d barely go clubbing because you’re not the type to want that on your own. It’s not usually your idea to go, if ever. But everything seems fun with your friends and honestly, you feel comfortable enough to go with them.

Friends, who probably find you very difficult and annoying at the moment as they’re trying to make you sit on the small bench in your corridor.

“I hate clubbing,” you mutter drunkenly at them, laughing when Taehyung gets on his knees in front of you and tries to grab your ankles to take off your heels.

“We know, you tell us that every time you get wasted.” Taehyung mutters, ignoring the way your mouth falls open in disbelief.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin scolds him, getting on his knees as well to help Taehyung who seems to have trouble with taking off your heels.

Giggling through the entire time, you’re suddenly reminded of something when you look at the two men in front of you, seeing nothing but the top of their heads. “I got two men on their knees.”

Taehyung looks up, cocking his brow at you and finding you extremely annoying as you’re laughing to the point your shoulders shake. Jimin chuckles, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder as he breaks out a grin before they finally get your heels off.

“Kook, we’re taking her to the bedroom!” Jimin calls out to Jungkook who must be somewhere in your apartment. You can’t remember where he went.

“Oooh, sounds… exciting boys!” you joke, your voice resounding in your apartment.

Jungkook chuckles at that, currently in your kitchen preparing you a glass of water and pulling out painkillers from one of the cabinets. You’ll need it for sure. There’s a lot of commotion coming out of your room, something about taking off your make-up which makes Taehyung groan loudly. Jungkook doesn’t fight off the amused grin, only because now Taehyung finally understands how annoying he’s being when he’s drunk. Or at least he hopes he understands.

Jungkook pulls a coke out of your fridge and pours some for himself and for the guys, knowing they’ll have to wait until you fall asleep so they can go. Honestly, Jungkook wonders if one of them should spend the night just in case you get sick. Which you probably will because he hasn’t seen you this drunk in a while. You mentioned something about work when you first entered the club and had your first drink. However, Jungkook wonders if the problem lies somewhere else and that is Heaven. Or whatever his name is.

You’ve been dating for a while and it’s been only over two weeks since you mentioned the relationship isn’t what it used to be. He can smell a break-up in the air and he wonders if you got drunk because it either already happened or you know it will. Maybe he’s just overthinking this. Maybe you just wanted to have fun and get fucked up like Taehyung and Jimin do on a daily basis.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung suddenly yells, the door being opened before they’re loudly shut, Jimin’s soft but loud voice heard for a second.

Jungkook straightens up, ready to make a way over there but before he can move, Taehyung already storms into the kitchen. Face read and annoyed as he looks out of breath, as if he was fighting off a—

“Demon,” Taehyung breathes out, “Y/N is a freaking demon when she’s drunk.”

Jungkook laughs, “She’s just drunk, Tae.”

“Yeah, and she just slapped me for apparently pressing her eyes too harshly when I tried to take off her make-up because she can’t go to sleep without taking it off. God, that woman is a nightmare when she’s drunk!”

“It’s not like you’re a dream when you’re drunk,” Jungkook murmurs, earning a huge glare from Taehyung who keeps his mouth shut because deep down, he knows he’s just as bad.

“Go there! She’s your responsibility right now!” Taehyung exclaims loudly as Jungkook rolls his eyes and puts his body to a move as he brushes past Taehyung.

He barely gets to hold the doorknob before the door is being pushed open again and exhausted Jimin makes eye contact with him. “Great, you’re here!”

Jimin is out of the room and quickly joins Taehyung in the kitchen. Bastards…

Jungkook warily makes it into your room, looking around and barely noticing the flying pillow aimed at him. He catches it at the last minute, frowning at you as you’re standing at the corner of your room next to your closet, still wearing the dress that you wore to the club.

“What was that for?” Jungkook exclaims, watching you drunkenly and messily walk towards your bed before you take another pillow. Before Jungkook knows it, it’s thrown in his direction all over again and he catches it effortlessly and stomps his way over to you.

You’re screaming as if he’s about to kill you, trying to get away from him by jumping onto your bed and getting off the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook asks, trying to get you from the other side but for a drunk person, you’re quick and make it out of your bed while standing in the middle of the room.

Jungkook stands there, watching you with narrow eyes for a moment. You do the same thing, stumbling a little. Jungkook uses the moment of surprise and he rushes over to you, not giving you any time to react and even when you try to, he gets a hold of you.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook groans when you trash in his arms, “Calm down, you need to get to bed. You’re going to hurt yourself, you damn woman.”

“No!” you whine, gasping when Jungkook lifts you up while his arms are wrapped around your waist, tossing you to the bed.

“Stop it,” he scolds you in a warning, pointing his finger at you which makes you slouch your shoulders in defeat. “What’s the matter?”

“I wanna go clubbing!” you pout, slapping your hands beside your sides like a bratty kid which makes Jungkook roll his eyes at your behavior.

He hears Jimin and Taehyung peeking out behind the door, watching the scene in front of them with curious and amused eyes. Jungkook glares at them but they just grin at them, silently telling him “See?”.

“You’re acting like a brat, Y/N,” Jungkook comments, sitting on the edge of your bed as you dramatically gasp. “And you’re drunk. You wanted to go home just a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” you ask, holding your head high as you’re fighting off the pout again. “Well, I wanna go back. I changed my mind.”

“You can’t just change your mind,” Jungkook shakes his head, “You’re already home.”

“You’re no fun,” you comment, tossing yourself on the back as you stare at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna be alone here.” you almost whisper, not really sure why you just admitted that all of a sudden.

Just a minute ago you were having fun and wanted nothing but be alone.

“We could stay here…” Jungkook reminds you softly. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can you? I think I’m gonna throw up once I fall asleep.” you admit, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. You sound so innocent and child-like. If you weren’t wearing that tight dress, he would actually believe you’re a kid for a moment.

“How about you change your clothes and put some pajamas on? We’re gonna set the couch and stay the night.”

“You’re not gonna fit there!” you whine, “Can you stay here with me?”

It wouldn’t be the first time you guys share a bed, but ever since you started dating Haechan there weren’t many opportunities to do that, nor were you looking for those opportunities. You’re not sure how he’d like that and just out of respect, you and Jungkook mutually understood you should tone it down even though nothing ever happens. You’re friends.

“You sure?” he asks, raising his brow. You might be wasted but you can still think logically, which couldn’t be said five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “Can you rub my back though?”

Jungkook laughs, Jimin and Taehyung join too who are still watching the two of you and how easily Jungkook has handled you. “Deal, but be in bed in your pajamas once I come back. Or no back rubbing.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches, standing up as he looks at you in annoyance. You’re such a brat, you know he hates being called that and you’re still teasing and annoying him even in your current state.

Taehyung cackles and Jimin joins too, not being able to hold it any longer as Jungkook rushes them out of the door to give you the privacy. Once Jungkook makes it to your room to check on you, you’re patiently waiting for him and his back rubs patting the spot next to you. God, he thought you’d fall asleep.

But he joins you, rubbing your back just like he promised until you fall asleep so he can take a shower. Jimin and Taehyung are already sprawled on your couch, talking a bit before they fall asleep too. And when you wake up in the middle of the night, Jungkook holds the bucket for you until you fall asleep again, silently apologizing.

The next morning, Taehyung doesn’t forget to remind you what a pain in the ass you were which causes Jimin to scold him while Jungkook glares at his older friend. But you easily tell him to fuck off, reminding him all of the times he was the one being annoying and a pain in the ass.

Jungkook doesn’t fight off the grin he gives you. You can take care of yourself, maybe not entirely when you’re wasted but you can easily handle Kim Taehyung.

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.1)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 2,033 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

After he had been brought back from space and found Pepper gone, Tony had been devastated. He isolated himself despite the remaining Avengers efforts. He only let them know he was alive and was reviving himself from being starved and dehydrated in space. When he had received the intel that in the snap, males were given mates, an Alpha and Omega pairing, he had rejected the idea at first, ignoring the small A that had engrained itself on the web of his hand between his forefinger and thumb. But as time waned on, he found himself empty and even admitting that to Rhodes opened up the conversation again about finding his Omega. Rhodes was convinced Tony would find healing in that connection. Thanos had done it to set couples, control procreation. No out of wedlock. There would not be another overpopulation problem. Only Omega were able to breed now. In any corner of the galaxy, it seemed.

Somehow despite his isolation, Tony had gotten word an Omega had been captured and her imprinting mark, an outline on her gland yet to be penetrated, matched his DNA. It was not a surprise to Natasha considering his incessant need for information and adept ability to hack practically any system.

Or maybe it was because Steve had told him. That’s what Tony divulged to her upon his arrival.

“I did not tell you yet for a reason,” Natasha told him.

They were standing in the observation room. Like many Omega after the snap, she had gone into hiding as soon as the information was out, and she had noticed the mark on her neck. People were not keen on being forced into submission and this situation was no different. Quickly, a drug had been developed and distributed. Still, the Omega had stayed in hiding, still fearful they could be detected despite the suppressants.

“Yeah, I’m used to you not telling people things,” Tony told her coldly. “You learned that from Fury well enough.”

Natasha swallowed his insult, knowing he was getting himself riled up just at the sight of her. She needed to be delicate about this. She had planned on telling him and inviting him to the compound but she had wanted to give Y/N time, get her as calm as possible to meet her Alpha. Steve had ruined that. So, she had to just go ahead now that Tony was here, ready to pounce. He had held off for so long, but the loneliness and loss had gotten to him. Or the drive to find himself buried in his Omega had sunk in; hormones were a bitch.

“She’s been on the suppressants. It may take a while for her to feel her heat,” Natasha told him.

“’A while’? How long has she been off them?”

“We’ve had her in here a few days. But a week at least.”

Tony growled and turned away from her. His eyes found Y/N again on the other side of the glass, watching her meander in the room serving as her cell to keep her safe. “She’s so close! A few days at best!”

Tony could already see it, smell it. It did not matter there was a wall separating, she was coming in through the circulation. And she already smelled deserving of his veneration.

Natasha inhaled sharply and took a step towards him. Firmly, she asked, “Do you need to leave, Tony?”

“No!” he spat, shooting her a threatening glare. He was just daring her to try to force him to leave.

As if he would let his prize out of his sight. He had been lost the moment he had laid eyes on her, smelled her sweet scent of sea breeze and jasmine.

Natasha would threaten him in return. She was not afraid of him, unlike most people. She was firm when she told him, “I won’t allow you to mate an Omega without their consent. She won’t realize she’s in heat yet. You need to wait until next cycle. Even if it is your soulmate and you think it’s for the best. And by think, I use it lightly cause I can see your fingers are white with how hard you are trying to hold onto that ledge to keep a grip on control.”

Tony snorted impatiently. Next cycle? Fuck that. He had been stuck in space and been screwed over by Thanos. He lost Pepper. He deserved this. He deserved her, he deserved this new start. He had gotten himself healthy again. And why not for this?

His Alpha was rearing its head; he had his soulmate so close, and he was so convinced he could trip her into heat early.

His eyes were fixated on his mate on the other side of the glass. She was moving around unbeknownst that he could see her, that he was watching her. His cock was tight against his jeans, and he adjusted, shooting a glance at Natasha who did not miss the movement.

He paced more, keeping his eyes set on her. She licked her lips, her hands wringing together as she sat down on the bench at the window she was allowed. She would have so much to look at when she was at his house. He had moved north, bought a large house settled in the mountains. So much space for her to wander, under his direction of course. He could not risk losing her either. But he wanted her happy. Only if happy meant she was with him though. He would not settle for anything less. He would force that mating bond on her if that is what it took to ensure she would warm his bed.

Out of Tony’s sight, Natasha cocked her head towards the door and Carol followed her. They thought Tony did not even notice them leave. Not that that was unexpected considering how zoned in he was.

Outside the room, door closed behind them, Natasha told her, “I’m gonna kill Steve. She needed a week—”

“Steve is just as meat headed as Tony. As little of time I’ve known him, I’ve realized that I’m not shocked he gave him the tip. He has been pretty happy with his mate that he found. I thought someone as virtuous as Captain America would have at least given the situation a second though, but…”

“Hormones are not a joke,” Natasha murmured. She swore and said exasperated, “Tony is not going to leave that fucking room without an armed guard dragging him out.”

Carol shrugged. “Then leave him in there! Let him watch her and keep the eye out he thinks he needs to. As long as he doesn’t break the glass—"

“He’s on edge already, Carol. If he sees anyone enter that room — even IF they’re beta, which is the only people I will send in there now regardless — he could lose it. Send himself into a rut. But she needs testing still and food. She has to interact with our doctors.”

<><><>

Tony had certainly noticed them leave though. And he smirked as soon as the door closed. Idiots.

Waiting for the door to close after Carol and Natasha stepped outside the room, Tony hit his watch.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y…. Hit the ventilation. Knock them out outside the room I am in and hers.”

<><><>

Tony stepped over Natasha and Carol slumped on the ground and then over the guards in the hallway. He held up his watch to the keypad and F.R.I.D.A.Y unlocked the door, giving him access. He shivered physically smelling Y/N full on, her wafting out to him as he pushed the door open. The room was penetrated with her and it was intoxication. The alcohol had done nothing for him since he had returned, no amount of money spent, no amount of women he had taken to his bed. But he actually felt something when he stepped into the room.

She turned away from the window, eyes wide and curious. He made sure to close the door behind him, a barrier to her escaping. He had read in the information he had been given all those months ago that Omega were unruly when they were not claimed yet and the thought made him growl internally. If she tried to run from him… his Alpha was furious at the thought, ready to pin her.

The two of them stared at each other and he could hear her heart beating faster, reacting to him. Natasha was right; she was not ready quite yet but just being in his presence was having an impact. Yes, he could trip her if he got her home, immersed her in his environment. If he was all she could see.

His eyes raked over her and he said, “Well, they certainly don’t know how to dress you all here.”

She looked down at her loose gown and then flicked her gaze back up to his, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry…”

She was delectable. Submissive. She already wanted to please him, and she had not been properly introduced to him yet. Tony felt his cock hardening. If only he could take her here and now. But he needed to drive her home. He tried to fight the hormones trying to hijack his psyche.

“No, sweet one, don’t apologize. You still look lovely. You’re so fertile….. look at you. Dripping.”

<><><>

You perked up at the compliment. The multiple compliments. You were doing good. Weren’t you? On many levels. Fertile. And wet.

Wait, wait?

He came closer. Still looking entirely in the brink of losing it but he smelled good. He smelled like home.

And that instantly set you on edge, a clear thought cutting through your arousal.

No.

It was him. The Alpha you had been assigned to. And Jesus. It was Tony fucking Stark. Why else would he have this effect on you? Natasha had promised to speak to you and let you decide as you weaned off the suppressants. She had lied and now you were being thrown to the wolves. And no wonder. Tony was her friend. Why would she deny him anything?

You stood quickly and your back hit the wall. You were closing in on yourself, trying to be small. He bristled at your squirrely movement and cocked his head. He immediately placed himself between you and the door to prevent you leaving, holding up his hand. Your heart was hammering.

He was here. He was here to take you away, lock you away.

“You don’t have to be afraid…” Tony said, his voice rolling over you like a high. It was sugary, sweet. “You are safe with me, sweet one.”

Safe. Yes. He would protect you.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tight, trying to shake his influence. Safe meant under his thumb.

Tony was closing the space quickly and you cowered. He was stronger than you and would undoubtedly win a fight.

“Omega…” he said, the title falling from his lips like a song. You froze and he took a few more steps. He shivered, seeing your response. “Be good. You don’t have to be trapped in here anymore. This room is so small, confining. You can come with me… up to our cabin.” Our, the word usage was not lost on you. “There’s a lake. Space to wander. You will have freedom there. With me.”

Half of you was screaming to listen to him, go to him, obey. The other half was screaming at you to try to duck around him and find an escape to make sure you would not fully come off the suppressants and be his puppet, his breeding machine.

Tony was there, inches between you and your chest pulled towards him, wanting him to touch you. He noticed the movement, hunger swimming in his eyes, pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, Omega. Be good.”

A soft whine left your lips, embarrassingly, at the command to be good.

Yet, another thought flashed. This was not right. And your eyes hardened. His jaw clenched at the sight, and you knew you were in trouble. Before you could react, he brought his hand up, and all you felt was cold metal against your neck before you saw black.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter XV

Chapter: 15/?

Wordcount: 2900

Title: Hand Signs

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Tobirama Senju X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14

Symbols: ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s): none

N. A.: Yeah I think I owe you apologies for taking this long to post this chapter, but here it is, finally! I was feeling so upset and guilty for not writing as much as before, but it's simply because I haven't had time to sit down and work on my stories. These days have been rough 😣

You didn’t remember well how things happened after the man left your door. You only remembered seeing Tobirama turning to you and saying something, trying to raise his voice above the storm’s sounds, but it wouldn’t let you understand the exact words. You probably stood up and took the first clothes you could find, but you weren’t sure how; even less passable of an explanation was how your husband could find time to put his full armor before you two left the room, all your package except for the weapons being abandoned there as well as your hopes of having at least one pacific night before going back on your journey.

Somehow you reached the first floor, from where the people of the tea house were trying to leave as fast a possible. The ninjas you saw when you arrived at the place came to speak to you. They were in three.

You two turned to them and the one who seemed to be the leader of the group introduced himself:

- I am Yuuta from the Land of Wind– and turning aside to indicate his partners – These are my brothers, Yuji and Yoko. We understand that you two are shinobi like us. We’ve heard about the ditch and thought we could work together to help the people who live here.

There was no time to think about the strangeness of the situation or to have suspicions about the group. You felt a sort of regret for the bad impression you had of them at first, because they seemed to be honest people now that you paid close attention to them.

Apparently Tobirama had the same opinion, judging by his response when he spoke for you two.

- We are shinobi from the Leaf Village. I am Tobirama Senju and this is my wife, Y/n from the … clan. We are going to the village near this tea house to help the people there.

- I am used to work in rescuing missions and it would be of great help if some of you came with me – you completed.

Yoko, who was the only woman among them and seemed to be the youngest sibling, replied that she had experience in rescues too. You and the three ninjas had a quick conversation and it was decided that Yuuta and Yuji were going to help the people of the inn while you and Yoko were going to the village. However, when Yuuta asked Tobirama to stay at the inn with him and his brother, the Senju refused.

But it was the explanation given by him for such refusal that left everyone stunned.

- I will be more useful if I’d go with the women because I have a plan to stop the flood. However,I need to see the territory to make sure it will work.

The entire group stared at him in silence, but none of them dared laugh at him or question his attitude: it was clear that Tobirama was not joking, neither he was the type who needs to justify himself to others, even more if he just met them. That was not a man one wouldn’t take seriously. You yourself were caught in surprise, but you had the same reasons as the others to keep quiet as well.

In the end, Yuuta and the others nodded and the group was divided and you three were running toward the small village that was said to be near the tea house.

***

Now that you had some time to pay attention to your thoughts, you were running without talking, trying to process everything that was said during the conversation with the three shinobi of the Wind. So, Tobirama had a plan to help the villagers – perhaps a plan that started to take form when you were still in the inn’s room and your husband was talking to the man at your door – but whatever he wanted to do, it sounded absurd even to his standards. You started to think if all the Senju people were like him or if he was the one who differed from the rest of the clan.

Above these valid questions, an intrusive thought that you’ve been trying to suppress just took over your mind: you couldn’t forget the involuntary way in which you turned your head away from the group when you heard him introduce you as his wife. If that situation happened just a few days before you’d surely be irritated: he haven’t done anything that served as a proof that he acknowledged you as his spouse, so why would he call you his wife in front of those strangers? Well, after the things you’ve been through in that journey, it didn’t seem appropriate for you to just get angry. The truth was that you didn’t know how to feel about it.

If things stopped at this, you would be okay. Problem was that it didn’t: soon, you were remembering the dream you had just before the knocks on your door woke you up. The strangest part of it was that you weren’t sure of when exactly you fell asleep – was it before or after the… kiss? You firmly believed it was before. Just the diligent manner in which he left your side on the bed to answer the door showed that the kiss was not real. It couldn’t be.

But it felt so real. Almost as if you’ve been wanting it for days. Thinking of this made your face warm up despite the cold drops of rain falling on it.

Yoko’s voice brought you back to the present moment, among the sound of the raindrops on the trees above and the soaked soil swallowing your feet.

- Y/n-san, do you know this village? – she was asking – Any information about its geography can be useful for us to form a rescue plan!

You took a second to understand what she was saying under that storm, but once you did you tried as best as you could to explain that you’ve never been at the village.

- I’ve been in that tea house before, but I’ve never visited the village itself! I don’t know what we’re going to find there!

- So what now? – there was preoccupation implied in her tone.

- Supposing that the village’s territory is similar to the inn’s, with a flat ground and enough open space, things can be a bit easier – you knew it was a shot in the dark, but you wanted to avoid causing desperation in your new partner – It means that its people have a good chance to escape just by running. I’m a Doton user. I can stay behind and build barriers to delay the flood while you lead the way for them!

Fortunately for you, Yoko agreed with your suggestion.

- Right!

However, that was not the end of the conversation or your worries. The girl didn’t forget that Tobirama took a difficult – almost impossible –task for himself that would separate him from the rest of you, and decided to question him about it.

- And what about you, Tobirama-san? – she spoke to the man who was slightly ahead of you – What exactly are you going to do?

Tobirama replied your question as if the answer was something obvious.

- I am going to check the flood’s path and think of a way to stop it.

You opened your mouth and the storm drops that entered it almost made you gag.

- Listen, I know you are a master of Suiton, but I think that’s a bit extreme!

That time he looked at you while speaking.

- I do not plan to use mere Water Style to solve this, y/n-san. I will explain when we get there!

***

The village, just as the inn’s owner informed you, was so close to the tea house that you reached it in less than two minutes.

It was smaller than you imagined, though. It was formed by one large, main street that had its lines defined by groups of small, modest houses on both sides. These houses had their doors and windows all open, and the villagers were reunited outside them.You didn’t need to look for too long to see terror in their eyes. An old man was holding his cane so tight that his fingers were becoming pale; no so far from him, a woman was trying to calm down a child crying and asking what why was everybody so scared. Others were trying to run with packs on their backs, trying to reach the grove’s path. Among all those people there were some animals, faster than their owners in leaving the place to hide among the trees.

Tobirama, you and Yoko looked at each other but didn’t say anything. You just walked ahead and when the people noticed your presence, they opened the way for you without questioning your reasons to come. You knew what this reaction meant: it only showed how rare was for them to see shinobi in their territory.

Before any of you could ask who was in charge there, a man ran toward you, screaming:

- Who sent you three? The village is doomed! Soon this place is going to be under water!

You asked if anyone was missing.

- No, we are all here – the man replied – Except for Toji, who ran to the inn to alert the people there.

You were thinking of what to say in response when Tobirama took a step toward him and spoke in his commanding voice:

- We are shinobi from Konoha and we’re here to stop the flood! – and elevating his voice for the others to hear – All of you! My partners, y/n-san and Yoko-san, will guide you through the grove! Our other friends will meet your group in the middle of the way and help you! Do as they say and everyone will be safe!

You didn’t know it was possible for someone to obtain such power of influence on people they didn’t even know in so little time until you saw the people’s reaction to your husband’s words. Once they heard his voice, they gathered around him, their desperation soon replaced by a serious attention; they stopped pushing and stumbling on each other he gave his instructions. Their eyes turned to you then, and you did your best to calm them down: as your experiences in rescuing missions told you, that was the crucial moment when you had to make sure the victims would trust your leadership.

- Prioritize the women, the children and the elderly! Those ones who can carry children, do it! Do not take unnecessary weight with you! Follow the same direction and do not push each other! Yoko-san will go ahead of you, and I will be right behind you!

You pointed the grove’s path and felt relieved when you saw the people obeying your command. With words like “Do not look back” to the people, you went to the end of the line and saw Tobirama going to the end of the street, now empty. Instead of staying with the last people of the group, you followed him. You needed to ask what exactly he was going to do, because yes, you already knew he had an established plan, but you would feel safer if he shared its entirety with you.

Before you could say something, he turned and asked you:

- Y/n-san, do you have any Doton technique that is able to open a large crack or a ditch in the soil, one that could divide this ground from side to side?

You swallowed your surprise for receiving this very specific question and said that yes, you knew such technique. As well as its level of danger.

- Of course. But this is not a simple technique. It requires great quantity of chakra and might not work well if you’re not familiar with it. The ditch could end up not being deep or large enough.

Your reasons apparently were not enough to scare the Senju, however.

- Do not worry about it. This is exactly what I need right now. Tell me the signs.

You swallowed and told him the signs. His eyes followed your movements without blinking, and when you finished he thanked you with a nod. He made the signs of his Shadow Clone technique and created two other versions of him, each one with a pair of kunai that carried the mark of his Hiraishin. He also marked the Clones themselves with the seal.

As if he understood that you wouldn’t leave until he said something, he didn’t deny an explanation of his plan.

- Me and these two Clones are going to take positions at the points where the flood is going to pass. Each of us are going to use your jutsu to open ditches on the ground. They will contain part of the water and diminish its force. If it shows to not be enough to completely stop the flood, it will at least minimize the destruction in the village’s ground.

So he was really going to try what you suspected: to stop the water all by himself. Within the little time you had at the moment, you thought of it. If this have happened just a few days before, the first and only thing you’d think would be how ambitious, even pretentious of him to try such plan without help. But now that you’ve seen a bit more of Tobirama, something like that coming from him didn’t sound so absurd. No, it was exactly the kind of thing you should expect. You also remembered when he manifested an interest in seeing that village’s structure when you were talking to the inn’s owner. Of course: he lived in a village, one that he helped to build and worked to protect. It was only natural for him to be willing to do something for the people of this one when it was in his power to do it.

You stood for a moment.

- Tobirama.

That was the first time you called him by his name. It was enough to make him turn to you again; his Clones followed his move.

- If your plan doesn’t work as you expect, do not stay here.

There was no disdain for your preoccupation in his reply. Still, the respect for your worries didn’t stop him from exposing his belief in the plan’s success and reminding you that you didn’t know everything he could do. Not yet.

- It will work. Thanks to your technique.

And without waiting for a response from you, he turned to his Clones and sent them ahead. They used their kunai and teleported themselves to somewhere out of your sight.

***

When you went back to the group of villagers and explained your husband’s idea to Yoko, you sensed that she was as shocked with his plan as you were, but she was better than you in handling her surprise.

With the shock came the question you never felt you were ready to answer.

- Well, that’s an audacious thing to try. But do you trust him with this?

You nodded without thinking too much of your own fear. Yoko was not your only company; the villagers were there, looking at you – and you knew that in times like that, the wrong word could mess up with the best plans.

- I will go to the end of the line now. Just follow the plan!

The girl didn’t waste time with discussions or doubts.

- Right!

With these matters solved between you and her, you ran back to the end of the line.

But you wouldn’t stay with the people for too long. Patiently, you waited until the last villager entered the woods, far enough from the flood’s way, to go back to Yoko and talk to her apart from the folks.

- Listen. When you asked me if I trusted my husband’s plan, I said yes. And I really do. But I can’t go with you and leave him behind.

The woman’s reaction was nothing like you expected when you said that. Instead of minimizing your worries or suspecting from you, she put her hand on your shoulder, speaking in an assuring, whispered tone;

- Of course you can’t. Don’t worry. I’ve been living among men for a while. I know how stubborn they can be sometimes – she then looked over her shoulder, to a spot above, in a tree; there was a bird looking down at you, one of the species used to send messages – Besides, my brothers are close now. They can help me with the people.

You put your own hand on her shoulder to express your support and gratitude.

- Right. I’m leaving, then. Thank you.

She laughed.

- Just go!

You looked behind you, to the deep grove, eager to cross those trees again and terrified by what you could find after them. However, you were on a rescue mission, not only for the people of that village, but for him and yourself. You still had to leave that place and follow your journey; you still had to reach your family’s compound. And you wouldn’t do that if you stood there. The flood was coming. There was no time to waste.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move.

[hexensalbei]

getaway green

find it on ao3

“Yeah, yeah… Love ya too, man.”

Eddie abruptly stops before he enters the changing room. Heʼd recognise that voice everywhere because itʼs Buckʼs. But the words he overheard make him uneasy. Love ya too? To whom Buck might have said it? The most likely answer is to Eddie but he’s right here and he’s definitely not talking with his best friend. It’s not Chim either because Eddie saw him already in the station. So… Who else? Albert? No, that’s just ridiculous. Albert and Buck are friends—not as good as him and Buck, obviously—but why would they talk via phone when they probably saw each other this morning in Buck’s apartament? It doesn’t make sense. So… Who is it then?

Eddie feels like someone just twisted his guts. Has Buck met someone new? No, he would’ve told him about his new relationship, he’s sure of it. His best friend has told him about reconnecting with Taylor and doing the whole “friendship without benefits” thing, for god’s sake. He would at least mention that he met someone worth dating.

It’s not very helpful or reassuring, though. Eddie knows it sounds bad but he doesn’t want Buck to find someone to date. Unless it’s him Buck would be dating. He can’t stand the idea of Buck spending his free time with someone else, kissing someone else, loving someone else.

Eddie’s very much in love with his best friend. He’s tried to get over with him by dating Ana. And it was a fucking disaster because everytime he kissed her, he wished it was Buck instead. So… It’s safe to say he got it bad. And he has to keep it under control because he doesn’t want to blow up the best friendship he’s ever had. Telling Buck he’s in love with him is not even an option.

He tries to suppress his jealousy and finally goes to the changing room. Buck’s already in his work clothes and he’s scrolling through his instagram; there’s a wide smile on his face. When he hears Eddie coming in, he looks at him and his grin gets even bigger.

“You’re almost late, Diaz.” He teases and Eddie can’t help himself but smile too.

“Almost late makes a big difference.” Eddie emphasises, quickly changing his clothes. Buck only rolls his eyes. When they’re both ready, they go upstairs and greet their coworkers. The blonde goes to the coffeemaker and he pours two cups of coffee—one for him and one for Eddie—and he hands it over to his friend. They sit on the couch as usual; their arms and thighs pressed together as if there’s any free space left.

“Uh, I’ve got news.” Buck says and waits until everyone pays attention to him. “TK’s coming to LA this weekend.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Do you mean the TK with whom you stole the fire truck and who you were flirting with?” Chim asks curiously.

Eddie nearly chokes on his coffee.

Was Buck really flirting with that kid from Austin? Sure, he noticed that dumbass and dumbasser hit it off very quickly but it wasn’t something unusual—Buck was so sweet and easygoing, it was almost impossible to not like him.

“I wasn’t flirting with him! I just invited him to LA! And besides, he has a boyfriend. Who is coming with him, by the way.” Buck explains; he’s slightly embarrassed, Eddie can tell, because his cheeks are more pink than usual. Again, why would he feel embarrassed if he wasn’t flirting with TK?

Maybe he was flirting but he just doesn’t want to admit that? Whispers a very annoying voice in Eddie’s mind. He tries to silence it.

“That’s amazing! Is that captain Strand’s son? You should come by the station with them, I want to meet them.”

Bobby’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

“Sure, I was actually thinking… Maybe we can have a night out together? As a team?” Buck suggests. “TK says he can’t wait to meet all of you guys.”

“Fantastic idea. I’ll ask him if youʼre bluffing.” Chim quips. Eddie has a strong urge to strangle him.

And then it hits him. Buck was talking with TK earlier, in the changing room. It was definitely TK.

The jealousy is eating him alive. Sure, Strand may have a boyfriend but is it really that big obstacle? Women were flirting with him when he was still married to Shannon; they’ve pretended not to see his wedding ring and ask him out anyway.

Oh, shit. What if he will be the witness of Buck flirting with TK? He’s not sure he can handle that. How will he react? What if he will finally blow up and say something he’s not meant to? He shouldn’t tempt fate and just stay at home instead of going out with the 118 and TK. He decides to gently decline the offer and thinks about a good excuse—he could easily use Christopher as a reason to not go with the team—and Buck would totally understand it.

When he finally opens his mouth to say something, the bell rings. Of course.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

The whole friendship thing between Buck and TK is bothering him so much, he can’t even fully focus on the job. He’s so distracted that Bobby asks him if he’s okay. He shrugs his shoulders and lies that he’s completely fine. What would he say anyway? That he’s in love with his best friend who doesn’t love him back and he’s probably into another, very cute firefighter? No, this is already pathetic as it is. No need to embarrass himself more. When they’re back at the station, he’s almost on the edge. He needs to find out more, even if it causes him more pain.

He quietly follows Buck to the kitchen and when they crash on the couch, he musters up courage to ask him about his relationship with TK.

“I didn’t know you and TK were such close friends.” He says, trying to sound playful, teasing.

Buck sighs heavily.

“Oh, come on, man, you too?” He groans and shoots Eddie kind of an annoyed look. “Yes, we’re close and it’s nice to have a friend outside of the 118. And we’re just friends. No flirting, no hook ups. Besides, I’ve mentioned he has a boyfriend who will be there with us.”

Eddie believes him; he hears honesty in his voice and it makes him a little bit calmer. He feels like he can finally breathe again and—

“I wouldn’t flirt with him anyway even if he was single because I think I might be in love with someone else.”

Eddie swears he can hear his heart shattering on a million pieces. He wasnʼt prepared to hear this, he wasnʼt expected to have a breakdown in the middle of a shift. Buckʼs in love and he didnʼt know about this. How? Who is it?

“What?” Is the only thing he manages to whisper.

“I’m in love with someone.” Buck repeats. It’s very quiet, unsure, almost fragile. Like he’s afraid of Eddie’s reaction, afraid of being open and vulnerable. Afraid of being in love.

It breaks Eddie’s heart even more because the only thing that’s worse than his broken heart, it’s Evan Buckley’s broken heart.

“Oh. Are you... Does this person know about it?” He asks gently, moving a little closer to his best friend. He feels like heʼs been hit by a truck but right now he wants to at least reassure Buck itʼs okay, make him feel better. Thatʼs what friends do anyway. He can have a full breakdown in his own house when heʼll be alone. He starts to pat his back lightly and after a while, he can feel Buck relaxes a bit.

“No...  It’s… Complicated. It’s probably best if I don’t say anything. At least nothing will be destroyed. I canʼt destroy it.” He hears Buck’s muttering. He understands him perfectly; sometimes not telling the truth is just the best option.

Eddie still feels jealousy, he envies the nameless person who Buck loves. He’s trying to shove down his feelings and only focus on his friend to cheer him up.

“You wanna come home with me after the shift? We could make pizza together and watch some movies with Chris.” He proposes. He realizes he said coming home—like it was their home. Not only his and Chris’ but Buck’s too. And it is his home; Buck belongs to the Diaz family anyway.

His invitation instantly lightens up Buck’s mood because he finally looks at him and there’s a small smile dancing on his lips.

“Deal. But only if you stay away from the kitchen, we don’t wanna call 911 to the firefighter’s house. You can wash the dishes.”

“Fine. Whatever you wish.”

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

The rest of the week passes fairly peacefully. They don’t talk again about Buck’s feelings and Eddie successfully pretends he’s not jealous. They joke and bicker as always so it’s fine, it seems like everythingʼs perfect.

It’s Friday—and it means TK and Carlos are coming. Buck has a day off and he’s picking them up from the airport and giving them a quick LA tour. Eddie’s working and so are Hen, Chim and Bobby. It’s a busy shift so they’re definitely not bored; Buck keeps them entertained between the calls—he’s blowing up Eddie’s phone with texts and photos.

Eddieʼs happy that his friend is enjoying his day off, he really is. Of all people in the world, Buckʼs the one who deserves it the most. He wishes heʼd be there with him.

» from Buck: dude, we totally need to take Chris to this museum of space, heʼll be thrilled«

Eddie opens another photo from his friend—this time itʼs Buckʼs selfie whoʼs standing in front of the museum and smiling. It melts Eddieʼs heart because Buck always thinks about Christopher, always includes him in his plans. Despite what Hen says, heʼs aware that theyʼre basically co-parenting Chris; he canʼt pinpoint the exact moment when Buck has become a second dad, it just... Happened.

» to Buck: iʼm in. so museum and sleepover at my house next saturday? i think i need to get my revenge after last time«

Buckʼs response is immediate.

»from Buck: you can keep dreaming, Diaz«

Eddie stifles a laugh when he reads the message. At least, heʼs the one Buck chooses to share even small things with. And at this moment, everything is alright.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

They finally meet at the 118ʼs favourite pub. Eddie went home after the shift to drop Chris at Abuela and change into something nicer. He tried once to say heʼs not going out with them but he quickly changed his mind when he saw the disappointment in Buckʼs eyes. Heʼs quite nervous, though. Despite what his friend said about flirting with TK, the doubt, the uncertainty is still there. He hopes he wonʼt do something stupid. Heʼs the last one to arrive and Buck spots him the second he crosses the threshold. When he reaches the booth theyʼre sitting at, Buck almost jumps out to pull him into a hug.

“Thanks for coming.” He whispers into his ear and Eddie shivers involuntarily.

Then, heʼs crushed by another hug—this time itʼs TK which is a little surprising but Eddie returns the hug. Carlos sticks to the traditional handshake.

“Nice to finally meet the famous Eddie Diaz.” He says fondly. “Weʼve heard about you quite a lot.”

Itʼs quite dark here but Eddie notices Buck blushing anyway. Itʼs cute, he thinks.

“I hope Buck hasnʼt told any embarrassing stories.” He quips.

“Your embarrassing stories are safe with me.” Buck says very seriously, placing his hand on his chest.

“Trusting Buckley with your secrets? Youʼre either brave or stupid. Or both.” Chim laughs, sipping his drink.

“Iʼm telling Maddie. She will kick you off the couch for at least a few nights.” Buck warns him. It piques Carlosʼ interest because he asks a question, looking at the other man.

“Wait, so Chimʼs with your sister? Wow, you guys are really close.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

The conversations go as smoothly as the drinks they keep ordering. Eddie feels buzzed and content. Heʼs talking with Carlos about their childhood in Texas. He discovers that they have much in common; itʼs a very pleasant surprise and he feels like they will be very good friends. Bobby already called the night off, saying he needs to go back to his wife—because you canʼt say no to Athena —but Hen and Chim are still there and theyʼre singing karaoke alongside Buck and TK.

Eddie keeps an eye on these two; there was a reason why Judd called them dumbass and dumbasser. Buckʼs also slightly more drunk than him so someone really should check out what heʼs doing. And that is Eddieʼs responsibility. There is definitely no hidden meaning, no other reason to glance from time to time (fine, very often) at the scene.

Itʼs their turn to sing—itʼs Ed Sheeranʼs Give Me Love —and Eddieʼs confident it was Buckʼs choice. He notices how synchronised they are, how they keep sharing casual touches, how they laugh at each other, how they look at each other during the song—

And the jealousy almost throttles him. Because this is something Buck had only with him. Heʼs never been so touchy with Chim or Albert; sure, they have hugged many times but itʼs different with Eddie. Their closeness, lack of personal space was there from the first Eddieʼs day at 118 even when theyʼve been showing off to each other. Itʼs never felt awkward or inappropriate. It was easy, natural, kind of like breathing—something that people do without even thinking about it because itʼs just part of life. Because it was Buck.

Heʼs spiraling. He needs to go outside, somewhere where he wonʼt see Buck and TK together. It doesnʼt even help him that TKʼs boyfriend is right there next to him and he doesnʼt feel annoyed, threatened. He watches them with amusement in his eyes.

“I... I need to go to the bathroom.” Eddie says quietly and he rushes out of the booth before Carlos can say something. In the middle of the road to the bathroom, he changes his mind and goes out of the pub. He needs to take a deep breath, calm down and donʼt let jealousy take over him. Itʼs not like Buckʼs his boyfriend; heʼs allowed to be close with anyone he wants to. He knows that this possessive feelings and fear of being replaced, hurt is probably irrational but it still gets to his head very easily.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

He goes back inside after a while. He orders a beer and sits in the empty booth because apparently Carlos decided to join the rest on the stage. Eddieʼs grateful for that because he doesnʼt have to explain himself, he just can sip his beer in peace.

He doesnʼt notice TK coming to the booth, heʼs too lost in thoughts.

“What are you doing here all alone? Playing a dark, brooding hero?” He hears a very amused voice when TK sits across from him.

Eddie glares at him.

“Iʼm not brooding.” He scoffs. Heʼs definitely not brooding, heʼs just... Thinking. Trying to behave as usual. It would be rude of him to just go home without saying goodbye, right? And Buck would definitely call him to check if everythingʼs alright. Itʼs better to wait a little even if heʼs sitting alone.

“If you say so.” TK shrugs but then, he continues. “You know, thereʼs no need to look at me like you want to rip my head off.”

Eddie opens mouth to say something, to deny it because heʼs sure he didnʼt look at Strand like that but TK doesnʼt let him.

“Dude, donʼt. If looks could kill, I would be already dead when we met in Texas. Well, maybe it wasnʼt that intense back then but tonight you look like you want to strangle me. Thereʼs no reason. I like Buck but heʼs my friend. Just a friend.”

Eddie looks at him like a deer caught in the spotlight. Is he really that easy to read? He feels the blush creeping up in his cheeks; heʼs a little embarrassed because he really didnʼt expect TK to be so perceptive.

“I... How did you know?” He asks, his voice filled with uncertainty. He doesnʼt try to deny it anymore, TK wouldnʼt buy this bullshit anyway.

“Besides that I-wanna-kill-you look? ” TK laughs and then, he takes the water left on the table. “You look at him like the sun shines out of his ass. You were so focused on him that you barely noticed everyone else tonight. If I asked Hen or Chim about it, Iʼm sure they would say this is your normal behaviour. And you kept touching him like...” He trails off for a while, biting his lip. “You know... When I saw you and Buck for the first time, I was sure you two were together.”

Eddieʼs speechless; he’s mindlessly tapping his leg, looking at TK but not really seeing him. He’s silent for a few moments, but TK’s patient, he doesn’t rush him to talk.

“It’s… Complicated.” Eddie sighs heavily. He hasn’t told anyone about it but he doesn’t know if he can keep all of these emotions bottled up any longer. Maybe the fact he’s not entirely sober helps. And the fact it’s TK he’s talking to. “We’re friends. Best friends even. I… You know, he’s been there for me and he’s got my back since the day I arrived at the station. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with him. I don’t know how and when it happened but it just… Did? The thing is… I was panicking at first, I even tried to get over him by dating Ana. She’s—she was Christopher’s teacher. She was nice and sweet but I’ve kept thinking about Buck even when I was on a date with her. Even when I was kissing her, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It’s embarrassing, I know.”

He’s thankful that TK’s not interrupting him, that he actually pays attention to him. He notices the resemblance between him and Buck. Both of them have a personality of a golden retriever and they tend to do sometimes very stupid and reckless things. But after all, they’re so easygoing and sweet, it’s very easy to love them. Eventually, he goes on with his confession. “You know, I was jealous when I saw you two because you’re awfully… Handsy. You can understand each other without even talking. I know you have Carlos and that you two are serious but… I can’t help it, it’s stronger than me. And I can’t tell him I’m in love, I can’t destroy our relationship. I can’t do it because Chris would lose him too and he’s already lost one parent. Besides, Buck’s in love with someone anyway.”

He ends his monologue and hides his face in his hands. He definitely feels better after saying it out loud but it’s still a little bit awkward.

“And here I’ve thought Judd calls you Hollywood because of the looks but now I’m sure it’s because of how dumb you are.” TK says boldly.

Eddie raises his head to gaze upon his friend. There’s a very amused grin on his face and he looks like he’s refraining himself from laughing out loud.

“You really have no clue, don’t you?” TK asks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at you but it’s so funny how oblivious and blind two people can be.”

Eddie scowls.

“Are you gonna keep mocking me or you’re gonna tell me what you mean?”

“Fine.” TK chuckles. “Have you ever considered that Buck might be in love with you? I know that he told you, not directly, but he told you about it. I guess you didn’t figure it out.”

“He didn’t—” Eddie protests without hesitation but he stops when recalls their conversation after Buck told the team about TK and Carlos coming to LA. He mentioned being in love with someone and not wanting to tell the person about his feelings but Eddie didn’t even think that he could be talking about him. “You sure… He was talking about me?”

He looks at TK with hope; he desperately wants it to be true.

“I’m sure.” The younger man reassures. “He’s in love with you as much as you are. Oh, speaking of the devil.” He mutters, seeing Buck going in their direction.

Eddie rapidly turns his head only to see his best friend settling down next to him. His face is slightly flushed, hair disheveled and there’s a wide smile on his lips.

“Dude, I know you’re into Texans but I think one of them is enough, don’t you think?” He asks TK playfully.

“Don’t worry, Eddie’s all yours.” TK replies, smiling mischievously and he winks at Eddie. “I’m sure Eddie’s more into cute, blue-eyed blondes anyway.”

And then, he flees out of the booth, leaving them both alone. Buck raises one eyebrow, looking suspiciously at his best friend.

“Blue-eyed blondes, huh?” He asks very intelligently. Eddie’s sure his cheeks and neck are red by now and it’s very noticeable.

“Y-Yeah. He’s right.”

“Interesting. Neither Shannon nor Ana were blondes.” Buck points out, his voice very teasing.

“But you are.”

It makes Buck blushing furiously and Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing he saw this evening. Suddenly, he notices how close they are, how their bodies are pressed together, how blue Buck’s eyes are and how soft his lips are.

“So… You’re into blondes now?” Buck whispers, not tearing his gaze away from him, even for a second.

“Been into for a while now.”

“It’d make everything easier if I knew about this, I’d definitely do this sooner.”

Buck makes the first move and he closes the space between them. He gently brushes his lips like he doesn’t want to overwhelm him. But Eddie doesn’t want to back off. He’s the one who deepens the kiss, he’s the one who slides his tongue into his mouth, causing him to quietly moan.

“Do you think we could sneak off and go to my house maybe?” Eddie asks when they break apart, panting heavily.

“Dude, TK and Carlos are staying at my apartment, I can’t just sneak off.” Buck laughs. “I need to at least give them the keys if I’m not supposed to go back to my place tonight.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Just give them the keys and we can go.” Eddie pouts and he sounds so needy, it makes Buck giggle.

At some point, they get up and approach their friends who’re standing by the bar and ordering new drinks.

“Look who decided to join us!” Hen chuckles and she wants to say something else but she’s cut off by the Chim’s laughing loudly.

“I’m not sure if they are joining or leaving us.” TK smirks and Carlos nudges him softly to not to meddle.

“Actually, we were thinking about leaving if you don’t mind. I can give you the keys to my apartment.” Buck offers sheepishly.

“Just give us the keys, we’ll manage. You can go with your Texan.” TK says but then he adds, pointing a finger in Eddie’s direction. “But I need to meet Christopher before I go back to Austin.”

“I think we can arrange something. Tomorrow afternoon maybe?” Eddie suggests.

“Then we’re all set. Now, stop talking and get a room already!”

When Buck finally gives TK his keys, they say their goodbyes and order an Uber to Eddie’s house.

The ride is quick but quiet. They don’t really talk but the silence between them is not uncomfortable—it’s the opposite of it. They have to talk about their feelings eventually but they know they’ll have the time to do it. They enter the house and the second Buck closes the door, he’s slammed against the nearest wall. Suddenly, they’re kissing again; Eddie pushes his hips forward and it causes Buck to spread out his legs a little bit.

Eddie’s so glad Chris is at Abuela’s house because it means they have the whole night only for themselves—and they can do whatever they want to.

“Bed.” Buck growls when Eddie bites his lip and starts to unbuckle his belt.

“Someone’s impatient.” The older man teases.

“Said the guy who dragged me out of the meeting with our friends to have sex with me.” The blonde replies wryly.

“Just shut up, Buck.”

“Make me.”

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

Eddie slowly wakes up when the sun peeks through the curtains and shines on his face. His head hurts a little—well, heʼs not in his twenties anymore and he wasnʼt counting his beers last night—and he feels the weight on his chest. He needs a second to register that itʼs Buck; he sleeps very peacefully, completely nestled to Eddie. His headʼs on the place where Eddieʼs heart is, one arm around his waist; thereʼs a gingerish stubble on his cheeks and his blonde curls are perfectly messy. Itʼs a wonderful sight—and he wants to wake up like this every morning... Maybe minus a hangover.

He doesnʼt even notice how long heʼs staring at Buck like that but he doesnʼt really care. Eventually, Buck wakes up too and he raises his head a little. He seems a little confused but the expression disappears when he notices heʼs on top of Eddie and the manʼs grinning.

“Hello, sunshine.” Eddie says and he shifts a little to be able to pull his friend closer to properly kiss him. Itʼs kinda gross because they smell like yesterdayʼs beers and they havenʼt brushed their teeth but neither of them care.

“I assume you do remember last night... No regrets?” Buck asks. His tone is cheery, playful as always but Eddie can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

“Only one. That I was a coward for so long because we could have had it all much sooner.” He answers very seriously, looking directly into Buckʼs eyes. He wants him to believe in every word he says. “I know we hadnʼt exactly talked last night... But I donʼt want this to be a one night stand. Not with you. I want... More. Everything. I mean weʼve already been a couple for quite some time. You practically live in my house, youʼre Chrisʼ second dad and youʼve been my rock since the day weʼve met. We just... Havenʼt done the sexy part of the relationship.”

“Until last night.” Buck points out.

“Yeah... Point taken. So if you want to take it slow, we can take it slow. We can date like people usually do or you can already move in and take my closet, my bed and everything because youʼve already taken my heart.”

“If you think that your offer to move in is getting you out of asking me on a date then you’re terribly wrong, Diaz.” Buck teases and winks at his friend. “You need to romance me a little.”

“God, youʼre such a dork.” Eddie says fondly. He feels so damn happy and content because he can really have everything he wanted.

“You love it.”

“I do. Now, get your ass up. We need to pick up Chris from Abuela at some point. We have dinner with TK and Carlos later.” Eddie sighs because heʼd rather stay all day in bed with Buck—and maybe tell him some of the fantasies he had in his head—but the reality calls anyway.

“Are you sure you want me to pick up Chris with you? I mean, we donʼt have to do it together, I can go to my apartment and—”

“Buck. Iʼm sure. Itʼs not like we havenʼt done this before. I want to tell him about us too. I donʼt want to lie to him because I did it when I dated Ana and it didnʼt end well. Besides, heʼll be thrilled to see us together. Hell, he wants us together. He literally told me last week that I need to buy glasses if I canʼt see that you love me too.”

Buck looks at him with amusement and he laughs heartily.

“Heʼs a smart kid. And he definitely didnʼt get it from his father.”

Eddie scoffs.

“Youʼre really lucky that I love you that much because otherwise you wouldnʼt get away with saying stuff like this.”

Buckʼs smile is almost blinding.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

They get up, eventually. They go to the shower together to “save the time and water” but it turns into another long making out session. They eat breakfast (made by Buck) and they finally go to Abuela to get Christopher.

“Edmundo, youʼre late.” They hear in the second Abuela opens the door. Sheʼs a little surprised to see not only his grandson but also his best friend.

She notices the big ass hickey on Buckʼs collarbone thatʼs exposed because heʼs wearing Eddieʼs Henley and raises her eyebrow.

“Now I understand why youʼre late.” She smirks which causes them to blush. “Anyway, itʼs nice to see you again, Evanito. I hope I get to see you more often.” She adds and then embraces both of them in a hug.

“You will, Abuela, I promise.” Eddie says honestly. He wants to add something but he hears an excited voice from the hallway.

“Dad!” Christopher shouts as he goes to the door to greet Eddie. “Bucky?” He asks when he notices the other man standing next to his dad.

“Hey, Superman!” Buck says, kneeling down to hug the kid.

“I didnʼt know youʼll be there. Are you coming home with us?”

“Yeah, buddy, Iʼm coming with you.”

Christopherʼs smile only gets bigger.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“Chris? What would you say if Buck were living with us?” Eddie asks when theyʼre at home. Buckʼs making Abuelaʼs famous enchiladas with Christopher (none of the Diaz siblings have gotten the recipe despite asking for it a countless times; Buck asked once and Abuela happily gave it to him) and Eddieʼs only an observer. He loves watching those two interacting, spending time together. He loves how easily Buck has stepped into a co-parent role, how fast and hard he has fallen in love with Chris, how good he is with kids in general. Heʼs amazed by it almost every time he sees them together. He wouldnʼt have found someone better to be with.

“Buckyʼs moving with us? Iʼve thought it wouldnʼt happen!” Chris replies. The corners of his lips are curling into a smile but before it breaks into a full grin, he asks. “But does that mean you are dating and we wonʼt see miss Flores or someone else anymore?”

Buck looks at Eddie with a mischievous smile and mouths told you, heʼs a smart kid.

“Yeah, kiddo, no more miss Flores or any other women. Itʼs gonna be only the three of us.”

It seems to be a very satisfying answer for Christopher—he just nods and goes back to adding all ingredients to the enchilada sauce.

When everything’s almost ready, Christopher goes to his room to change his shirt because he spilled the sauce on it and they are left alone. Eddie doesnʼt waste any time and comes closer to be able to kiss Buck. He thinks it may be a problem to keep his hands off his best friend but they will figure it out too. Eventually.

“I think I can get used to this.” Buck says when they stop to take a breath.

“To what? Cooking with Chris?” Eddie teases.

Buck only huffs but then he smiles anyway because cooking with Christopher is definitely on top of his favourite things to do. “Yep, definitely. He is my favourite Diaz after all.”

“Then Iʼm in second place I guess?”

“You wish. Thereʼs also Abuela and Tia Pepa... Maybe even your sisters.” Buck grins. “You have very strong competition.”

“I think I may have some tricks up my sleeve to change your mind then.” Eddie states and heʼs ready to show them to Buck but the doorbell rings. He sighs heavily. “Guess you just have to wait to see them then.”

“Canʼt wait.”

“Hi Buck. Fancy seeing you here.” TK says with a very wide smile on his lips. “Iʼm guessing last night went well then.”

“Well... Yeah? Thanks to someone who was meddling just a little bit.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but he doesnʼt look even slightly irritated.

“Please, donʼt boost his already big ego, he was talking last night about changing his career to be a matchmaker.”

“Matchmaker?” Buck raises his brow. “Sounds interesting.”

“Carlos, we should really keep our boyfriends apart, itʼs dangerous to let them use their brain cells together. If they even have them.” They hear Eddieʼs amused voice and he appears right behind Buck. The blonde blushes at the word boyfriends. “But come on in, weʼre all ready.”

“We brought a six pack and a gift for Christopher.” Carlos adds, lifting up the beers.

“Oh, Chris will be thrilled. Heʼs already so excited to meet you two.”

“Weʼre excited to meet him too, Buck has told us so many things about Christopher, I feel like I already know him.” TK explains when they go inside.

“Bucky was talking about me?” Christopher peeks in the kitchen shyly. He sounds quite surprised.

“Yes, he did. And itʼs very nice to finally meet you. Buck couldnʼt stop talking about you. He didnʼt even talk so much about your dad I think.”

“Because my dad is very boring sometimes and heʼs all grumpy.” Christopher shrugs, looking apologetically at his dad. “Sorry dad but thatʼs the truth.”

“When did you become so sassy, huh? But I guess youʼre right. But... This is TK and this is Carlos.” Eddie introduces his friend to his son.

“And we know youʼre very interested in space so we got you a little gift.” Carlos adds, handing Chris over a package.

“Thank you.” Christopher says simply and puts it on the floor to unpack. “Whatʼs this?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, let me help you unpack it but maybe not here? We don't want to make a mess now.” Carlos proposes and Chris immediately agrees.

They go to the living room together and Buck sees with how much fondness TK looks at them.

“Carlos seems pretty good with kids.”

“He is. Heʼs fantastic. Maybe one day weʼll think about it.” TK replies thoughtfully.

“Oh, really? You two would be amazing dads.” Eddie says honestly, putting up the plates on the table. TK looks a little stunned.

“Never really thought about it too much earlier. But, anyway, howʼs my favourite couple? Because you two are a couple now, right?” TK eyes both of them carefully.

“Buckʼs moving in. Donʼt know when yet but Iʼm planning to make it as soon as we can.” Eddie announces proudly.

“Wow you really donʼt waste your time. So should we expect an invitation for the wedding next year?” TK laughs.

“... Maybe?” They both reply in sync.

“Well, weʼre doing it backwards. We started by raising Christopher together instead of just simply dating each other. So maybe we should marry each other soon. Iʼd marry him even now.” Buck states and winks at his boyfriend.

“Something tells me that the 118 would be mad at us for weeks. If they wouldnʼt kill us first for not inviting them to the wedding.” Eddie points out.

“I hate that youʼre right. They would totally kill us. But dinnerʼs ready and boys are probably starving so letʼs feed them first.”

The dinner is excellent, the conversation goes smoothly and Chris talks about his gift—an International Space Station Lego set—with so much excitement, they donʼt even dare to interrupt him. Buck and TK even offer to help him build it later. They eat a dessert and then, Eddie and Carlos settle on the couch, beers in hands and Buck and TK sit on the floor alongside Christopher and they discuss how to build the space station. Eddie canʼt tear away his gaze from Buck who looks so happy and excited to play with his—their —son and agrees to everything Christopher says.

“You two really fit together.” Carlos says quietly because he doesnʼt want to distract boys from work. “And Iʼm glad you were able to finally talk about your feelings. I must admit, I was pretty invested in your story when TK was talking about it. I really hoped you two would figure it out somehow.”

“Can you believe I was really jealous yesterday? I was sure Buck and TK were flirting and.. God, I was so mad at you for a second why you donʼt even react, why are you so cool about it. And... Yeah, I was stupid because I was sure he was into TK.” Eddie sighs because heʼs still embarrassed about it, he still canʼt believe he was so anxious that Buck might be in love with someone else.

“Oh, you probably havenʼt seen the way he looks at you. Itʼs really something. And TK was really invested in—and I quote—bringing these two lovesick idiots together. They were never flirting. Not seriously at least.”

“Yeah, I know... I... I really hope heʼll be happy with me. But Iʼve heard your relationship is getting more serious.”

“Yeah, well... We live together now so itʼs a pretty big step for both of us. We havenʼt killed each other so Iʼm taking it as a good sign. I donʼt know whatʼs next. Maybe a wedding but I need to be sure TK will say yes and wonʼt freak out about it.” Carlos sighs, knowing that TK may be still cautious about the whole wedding thing but he definitely wants to try it anyway.

“He mentioned earlier something about you two having a kid so I think heʼs taking it very seriously too.” Eddie reassures him.

They both look at his boyfriends who are completely focused on building a space station with Christopher and itʼs very heart-warming sight. “I donʼt think he would say something like that if he didnʼt mean it. Besides, he��s a lot like Buck and I bet he loves kids as much as him. And I need to add that Christopher is not really a kid who trusts easily but he clearly has so much fun with TK. I wouldnʼt worry too much if I were you. You two really fit together too.”

“Yeah, we do. TK was annoyingly stubborn at first and he didnʼt want to admit that itʼs more than just a hookup. Now weʼre living together.” Carlos laughs, looking softly at TK who sticked out the tip of his tongue and visibly tries to concentrate. “I must say, this is a really nice trip. Glad I could meet TKʼs friends and just... Let myself relax a little bit. Something tells me ifʼs not our last visit in LA, though.”

“I bet.” Eddie hums in agreement. “You can visit LA as many times as you want to. We will probably visit you in Texas too. I have to properly introduce Buck to my family one day so we can definitely do a quick trip to Austin then.”

“Weʼll be happy to see you. Captain S—Owen—will be thrilled to see you. He was disappointed he couldnʼt go with us, he wanted to see Hen again and meet your captain.”

“Yeah, he was whining all the time since we told him weʼre going to LA.” TK adds suddenly. Heʼs still focused on building the space station but Carlos and Eddie stopped talking quietly and now he hears what theyʼre saying. “Mateo was disappointed too, he wanted to visit his cousin. Marvin? Or something like that.”

“We can organise something bigger so everyone can be there.” Buck agrees. “Eds, we should definitely tell Bobby about it. I donʼt care if itʼs here or in Austin, I can definitely organise it.”

“I have no doubts.” Eddie says fondly and then looks at their guests. “You shouldʼve seen him when he organised a Christmas party for us all with help from Athena. We were all working and our kids were so disappointed by it but Buck basically rescued everything. That was really amazing.”

“Really? You didnʼt even mention that!” TK scoffs. “But nice to know, maybe Iʼll hire you to organise my wedding with Carlos since youʼre so good at this stuff.”

“Oh, I donʼt know. Maybe Iʼd work with Carlos because heʼs so sweet and nice but you? I bet youʼll be a bridezilla.”

TK only throws at Buck a piece of Lego in response, followed by the laugh of both Eddie and Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

Itʼs almost 10pm when TK and Carlos decide to go back to Buckʼs apartment. Christopher already fell asleep but he managed to build the space station with Buck and TK and he was really proud of it, just like both of his helpers.

“Dude, your kid is really amazing. I mean, I donʼt remember the last time when I had so much fun—sorry, babe—and Iʼm really gonna miss him.” TK admits and thereʼs so much honesty in his voice, nobody even questions it.

“Heʼs gonna miss you too, if it helps.” Eddie tells him, grinning softly. “Both of you. But youʼre gonna see him soon. At least I think so.”

“I take your word for it.” TK warns him.

“Well, you can always face time with us.”

TKʼs face instantly lights up and he hugs Eddie.

“I will miss you too, Hollywood.”

Eddie only rolls his eyes.

“Hey, you two big saps, you will see each other tomorrow because weʼre gonna drive you to the airport before our shift.” Buck announces.

“Fineeee.” TK sighs dramatically. “But I think our Uberʼs here so weʼre gonna leave you alone. It was really nice to spend more time with you.”

“Likewise.”

They say their goodbyes eventually and when TK and Carlos are already in the car, Buck takes Eddieʼs hand and smiles widely.

“It was really an eventful 24 hours.” He says.

“It was. Now we only have to prepare ourselves for tomorrowʼs shift. I bet Hen and Chim will be insufferable.”

Buck groans.

“Ugh, they will be. Maybe we should be insufferable too?”

“Buckley, do you have something particular in mind?” Eddie asks, watching his boyfriend carefully. Maybe other people wouldnʼt notice it but heʼs Eddie and he knows Buck too well. He notices that mischievous look in his eyes and heʼs sure Buckʼs up to something.

“I have a few ideas, Diaz.”

“Care to share them with me?”

“Always.”

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

next

Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics. 

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had. 

*

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead. 

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat. 

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke. 

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife. 

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?” 

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

*

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye. 

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed. 

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward. 

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 7 - Mutual Pining / Requited/Unrequited Love / Angst with a happy ending

My boys

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Angst (all of the angst), Angst with a happy ending, Witness Protection

AN: Day 7 of @tropetember. Another Hotch story that could be expanded into a small series. Enjoy the angst (and fluff because I CANNOT HELP MYSELF)

You've been looking to spending a quiet day with your boys, until a phone call turns your world upside down.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.6k

You were in the middle of pottering around the kitchen putting your groceries away when the phone rang.

Glancing at it, you realise it’s Aaron. Why would he be ringing you right now? Jack’s soccer game wouldn’t have been finished for very long and they usually got a treat before coming to visit you.

You answer with a smile, you were looking forward to spending the day with your boys.

“Hi sweetie, what can I do for you?” You ask.

Aaron says your name and his voice shakes. You instantly stop what you’re doing. Something is wrong. Something really bad is happening. You can tell.

“Scratch.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Scratch was at Jack’s game.”

You gasp and panic floods through you.

“Is he ok? Are you both ok? He didn’t get to either of you did he?”

"No, he didn't."

There's a pause and you feel your heart start to calm. At least they're OK, although you can't figure out what's happening. Unfortunately, your relief at them both being unharmed is immediately destroyed.

"Jack and I are being put into witness protection."

You hear the glass you were holding smash as it connects with the marble floor of the kitchen. It's funny, you feel like a spectator in your own body. The only other thing you're aware of is that you feel like you can't breathe.

Aaron calls your name a few times but you're hyper fixated on one thing he says. 'Jack and I.' Not we. Why hadn't he said we?

"Can I not come too?" Your voice is small. Lost. "If this madman is following Jack, he'll know who I am, Aaron."

You hear him exhale.

"I know. I tried to get the Marshals to offer you the choice of coming with us." You imagine he's scrubbing his hand down his face in frustration. "They said that, since Scratch's focus is the team, and I will no longer be around or know what's happening, you will no longer be at risk." He lets out a scoff.

Tears silently trace down your face. Your world was ending but, no matter how much you wanted to beg and scream and demand they stay, this was already a done deal. Jack's safety was the most important thing in the world and you wouldn't dare risk it for your selfish desires.

"OK." You take a moment to breathe and clear your throat. "Can you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Tell Jack I love him? Give him a big hug and kiss and tell him that I'll see him when this is over?"

That breaks him, and he quietly sobs out your name.

"You're going to be OK. Both of you. And I'll be here waiting." You take a shaky breath. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm putting everything into your name. I don't mind if you move into the apartment or if you rent it out and put everything in storage. Just try to hold onto the keepsakes and Jack's stuff."

"I've got it. Don't worry. It's in good hands."

"The very best." He gives a shaky laugh. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault Aaron. God, I love you so much."

You both go quiet, knowing you don't have long until the Marshals disconnect his number.

"I can't ask you to wait for me." He tells you. It makes a sob break through your restraint. "That would be selfish of me. Just know that I love you. And, once this is over, we'll see you again."

"I know, it's OK. I love you."

"I…."

The line goes dead and, like the glass spread across the floor, you break.

---------

The weeks following are hazy in your memory. You imagine it's not totally dissimilar to a bereavement. After all, you'd discussed seeing each other again, but you both knew that there was a chance it may not happen. Scratch had been evading law enforcement for months with ease. He was watching Jack and no-one even knew. It didn't bode well.

Time continued to pass. Eventually, from around the 6th month mark, people started offering to set you up with friends/relatives/colleagues. You weren't getting any younger they kept saying. You can't miss out on the rest of your life.

It was something you were well aware of. You were only a couple of years younger than Aaron so you were moving past your prime, particularly if you wanted to have kids of your own. You couldn't do it though. It just felt wrong when Aaron was out there alone somewhere with a new name and identity. How could you move on? Instead, you focussed on work, even getting a promotion for your efforts.

You didn't move into the apartment, you couldn't bring yourself to. You and Aaron had been discussing moving, and potentially purchasing a proper house with a garden Jack play soccer in in the future, mere days before everything happened. It was just another thing that didn't feel right. Instead, you moved the important things out to Dave's basement. He had the space and it would be much safer than a storage locker. It also helped sooth his guilt over the fact that none of the team were supposed to have much contact with you to try and keep you off Scratch's hotlist.

Since you didn't need the income from the apartment, you instead approached a charity who worked with women and families escaping domestic violence. You'd offered them the apartment at a reduced rate for short term lets that rolled month by month, with potential to go up to a year. The plan was to give people time to get back on their feet and regain their independence in a safe and secure environment.

You'd had two small families in so far. Both had moved on after securing jobs with good salaries and new full time accommodation. They were both keeping you updated about how they and their kids were doing, and you were happy that you were able to help them even just a little. It was empty at the moment and you were busy organising some basic maintenance and were going to repaint some of the rooms to freshen it up.

You'd just been on the phone with Derek, who'd offered to do the small repair jobs you needed doing, when someone knocked at the door.

Glancing at the clock and seeing it was nearly 9pm, you paused and texted Derek as a safety precaution. It was probably nothing, but better safe than sorry.

The knock sounded again, a little more urgent this time, and you hustled to the door to open it.

When you realised who was on the other side, your knees gave way.

There in front of you, looking almost exactly the same as when he left, was Aaron with Jack peeking out from behind him.

Realising what was happening, he reached out to steady you and you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing as if your life depended on it.

He held you just tightly, rocking from side to side until you pulled back. You lower yourself into a crouch and hold your arms out to Jack, who collides with you with enough force to knock you on your behind.

You both laugh as you land on the floor, a light, carefree combination of sounds that tinkles around the room as you press kisses all over his face. Aaron bobs down to join the hug before helping you both to your feet and guiding you all to your sofa.

"I'm so glad you're both back" you tell them. Jack is snuggled into your lap and you're snuggled into Aaron. Declarations of love pass easily and frequently between the three of you and it fills you with warmth.

You spend the evening catching up with them. Apparently Scratch had been caught at the end of last week but it had taken this long for word to get through to the Marshals and for them to organise transferring them home.

Jack tells you over dinner (pizza, Jack picked) about his school and all the things he's learnt since the last time he saw you. Aaron tells you about his cover job as a law clerk in the backwater town of Nowhere, Iowa. In return, you tell them about how you got promoted at work and what you've done with the apartment in their absence. Aaron's eyes shine with pride as you explain the cause and you know it's one that's close to his heart.

Before you know it, it's almost midnight and Aaron is suggesting they go back to the hotel that they've been set up in for the next few days. You won't allow that though. They'll be lucky if they're allowed to leave your sight ever again.

You all brush your teeth together in the bathroom while joking around before getting sorted and all clambering into your bed together.

Wrapped in Aaron's arms, with Jack tucked up against your side, you finally feel whole for the first time since that dreaded phone call.

"My boys," you gently sigh. "I love you both".

Aaron presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let the sound of their breathing calm you as you fall into the deepest nights sleep you've had in forever.

Even better, they're still there when you wake up.

[paisley-print]

Near The Water’s Edge:   Chapter Four

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you ’re forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.

Series Master List

Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut. Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of death, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of police case, police.  Word Count: 

Note: Another heavy chapter, but things will let lighter as the chapters go on. Enjoy the first half of the beach day. 

Tag List:@qytyy @winter-fox-queen​​​​ @sherala007​​​​@inkededucatednnerdy @quica-quica-quica​​​ @hnt-escape​​​ @giizhkens-cedar​​​@heythere-mel​​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​​

The ride passed in comfortable silence, the three of you listening to the radio and Lucy looking out the window at the cars in the next lane. All Frankie could think about was how nice it was to have someone else there to spend the day. He knew Lucy must have been feeling the same way, since he hadn’t seen her so excited about a beach trip in a long while. 

He appreciated how patient you were with her; it was something he noticed even on that first day. The way you refused help until you knew she was alright. That moment had stuck with him more than anything else. 

The memory of what Will said earlier surfaced in his mind. He shifted in his seat and glanced at you. Yes, you were beautiful. Strikingly so. A woman who could walk into a room and turn every head in the place; both men and women alike. Of course Frankie had been taken with you. He tried to suppress it, scolding himself whenever he was alone in bed at night and found his thoughts wandering.... 

His only goal right now was to be your friend because he cared for you and knew that you needed help. He wasn’t sure what kind of help, but he sensed that you were alone and at some point in your life something very bad had happened to you. He wouldn’t pry though, he would wait until you were ready to share. 

-

The beach wasn’t too packed; it was still early in the season and  the tourists hadn’t moved into their summer homes yet. The boys had done an oddly efficient job at setting everything up. When Ben and Will got into a little spat about how to sink the umbrella into the sand , Frankie simply rolled his eyes and continued to spray Lucy with sunblock. It made you laugh, they all seemed so comfortable with one another. 

The day was hot and everybody seemed eager to get into the water, everyone except you and Frankie.  You had bought a bathing suit at the store, intending on going in... but somewhere during the car ride you changed your mind. 

“You can go in if you want,” you told Frankie “I don’t mind just watching.”

He shrugged, “I don’t normally go in either.”

Then just like that the two of you were suddenly alone, both woefully unprepared for any sort of conversation.

You thought of something quickly, filling the silence “the marina was packed today.”

“Yeah, It’s always like that on memorial day. Most of the summer too, be prepared for the restaurant to start getting busy.”

“I prefer it that way. It makes the shifts go faster. So I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you do? I assumed you owned the marina?”

He paused for a moment. “Uh, technically I do. It was a wedding gift from my parents. An uncle had died and left it to them. I think they just wanted to get rid of it, but I have an office manager that does all the upfront stuff….. normally I just work on repairs.”

Married. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but still no ring. “Did you go to school for that?”

“Kind of. I had training for planes, but you would be surprised just how similar the two are.” You gave him a look. He glanced at you and laughed sheepishly. “What?”

“I’m sorry, did you say planes?”

“Yeah”

“You fix planes?”

He smiled and crossed his arms, trying to seem much cooler than he actually was. “I fly them too.”

“You fly pl-....do you take constructive criticism?”

He laughed, “Of course.”

“Lead with that next time.”

He looked at you skeptically. “How am I supposed to lead with that, exactly?”

“You say, hi my name is pilot Frankie …..” 

He shook his head, grinning. “Morales,” he informed you. 

“Hi my name is pilot Frankie Morales, nice to meet you.”

He played along, “but how will I know if people actually like me for me, or they just want me to take them for a ride in a plane?”

You shrugged “it's tough being a celebrity, I don’t make the rules.”

“Oh yeah, celebrity, that’s me,” he said sarcastically. 

You kicked at the sand with your foot. “Also I liked you before I knew you had the coolest hobby in the world. So, you know that you can trust me.”

He glanced over at you and immediately noticed your smile. He had seen you smile before, but they would never quite reach your eyes. This one, he could tell, was real. He opened his mouth to speak when, in the distance, a wave crashed and Lucy squealed with laughter. Both of you turned your heads to look.

“Will Lucy be okay out there?” you asked. She had on a life vest and was being supervised in the shallows by the rest of the adults. Santi was holding onto a boogie board Lucy used to keep herself up. 

“Yeah, I know they seem like idiots but they are good men.” Frankie reached into the cooler to grab a bee and popped the cap off with the bottle opener. “Do you want one?”

You shook your head, “No thank you, but I’ll take a water bottle if you have it.” He set his beer down in his cup holder and reached into the cooler again. The bottle was freezing cold when he handed it to you. Perfect for a sunny day.

You wiped the condensation off on your dress. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, taking a sip of beer. 

“Lucy’s mom is she….? Are you two still….? I don’t mean to pry, I guess I’m just a little confused.”

“You and I both,” he said with a sigh. “I’m married but we are not together anymore, haven’t been for a few years.”

“Oh,” you said simply, not finding any clarification in what he told you. If anything, you had more questions, but you didn’t want to push. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway…. you couldn’t, you were married as well. “Does your family live in the area?”

“Nope, they live up north. Katie never really knew her family. She grew up in the foster system and was bounced around until she enlisted at eighteen. It’s just me and Lulu now, and the guys when they find the time to travel here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “It must be hard not having your parents support.”

He shook his head and took another sip. “I expected it, even when I was younger, it seemed as though they were only interested in keeping me alive.” He looked down and started to peel off the sticker on the bottle as he spoke. “They are both doctors, mom is an archaeologist and dad an engineer. He actually helped design parts of the international space station…. I think they valued their careers more than anything else... they still do. The only time they ever came down to see Lucy was right after she was born, aside from that it’s usually a phone call on a holiday and a card with money in the mail.”

Although he tried to play it off as if it were just another part of life, you could see that it still affected him deeply. For a moment you thought about reaching out to take his hand, but you stopped yourself. “It really is their loss, they are missing out on two wonderful people.”

Frankie adjusted the baseball cap on his head, a sheepish little smile playing on his lips at the compliment. “Well, thank you. Lucy and I could say the same thing about you. You’re great with her.”

You glanced back at the little girl. She was smiling happily as Ben pulled her along on the boogie board. “I think little girls need to be protected, but not only that - they need to be seen and heard. She is already so independent and fierce. I can see how you encourage her to be her own person and not fit into any one mold. That’s important for little girls to learn.”

He laughed, “Yeah, she definitely gives me a run for my money, that's for sure. She can already repair an engine better than most men I know.”

A large gust of wind came through and took hold of the multi-colored beach ball beside you. Both you and Frankie sprang from your seats to race after it. The thing was fast, and you could not stop it from crashing into the waves. You noticed just how much cooler it was near the water’s edge. Although the temperature outside was sweltering, the Atlantic still held that winter chill. Both of you stared at the ball as it bobbed up and down with the tide. 

Frankie waved it away with his hand and squinted in the sunlight. “It’s fine, it’ll probably just float down the beach to another family or something.”

You smirked at him “or choke a poor dimwitted sea turtle to death.”

He paused and shot you a pretend glare, then took off his hat, dropped it in the sand and reached for his shirt. 

You giggled “no, no I’m joking. I got it.” You said, starting to strip down to your bathing suit also.

“Well, you gotta be faster than that,” he said, half jogging to the water.

You slipped off your dress easily and ran straight past him into the waves. Frankie was not far behind. You two were pushing against the tide as you reached for the ball. Fingertips just barely brushed against the plastic before it slipped a couple more inches away. This left just enough time for Frankie to swoop in and grab it.

Your stomach hurt from laughing so hard “hey!”

He shrugged, “I’m sorry that I care more about the environment than you.”

You splashed him with water playfully.

-

The two of you swam for another fifteen minutes, chatting about the town and volleying the ball back and forth. Frankie pretended not to see the way the droplets of water clung to your skin and sparkled under the sunlight. When he noticed the little lace pattern on the bottom of your swimsuit, he knew he had been staring for too long and forced himself to look away. The very last thing he wanted to do was scare you away, or make you believe he had some sort of ulterior motives to helping you. 

You both dressed again before walking back up to the chairs. When the two of you returned, the group had already come back from swimming. They were passing around Tupperware full of fruit while Santi was starting up the tiny little grill he had brought. 

“You guys really don’t play around for beach days,” you mentioned to Frankie. 

“I tried to warn you,” he said with a smirk. 

Will had Lucy thrown over his shoulder, carrying her easily with one arm. “Has anyone seen Fry?”

“I’m right here!” Lucy’s little voice drifted out from behind him.

Will started turning, pretending to look for her “Fry! Fry! Where are you!”

Lucy was hardly able to speak through her fit of giggles, “I’m behind you!”

He put her down on the sand, pretending as if he had seen her for the first time. “Jesus Fry! You scared me!”

“Lulu,” Frankie said, “come here so I can put more sunscreen on you.” Frankie took the bottle from the bag and sprayed her again, making sure to get her ears and the tops of her feet as well. He sprayed some in his hands, and Lucy scrunched up her nose as he applied it to her face.

Watching the two of them together made you smile. You were reminded again just how different Frankie was from your husband. David would have felt emasculated by having to take care of a child. If he had attended today, you would be sitting beside him silently the entire time, only getting up to fetch him a beer.

“Do you want some?” Frankie asked, and you were suddenly snapped right back to reality.  

Even though you weren’t threatened by a burn yet, you figured it would be a good idea. “Yeah, thank you.” You offered him your arms, then the front of your legs.

“I used to be terrible with remembering sunblock until I got sun poisoning in Iraq, god never again.”

“Iraq?” you asked, and turned so he could get the backs of your legs.

“Yeah, with the air force” he told you, assuming you already knew. 

Breath hitched in your throat as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. You cringed at the feeling of the warm sunscreen hitting the back of your neck and jerked away. It was enough for the others to notice. You laughed and lied quickly “damn horse flies hurt when they bite. They say you should wash off the bite with soap to get it to stop the swelling. Is there a bathroom here?”

You sounded believable. Becoming an expert liar had been the only thing keeping you alive for so long. 

Frankie felt horrible. He didn’t quite know what he had done to trigger you, but he knew it was something. “It’s pretty far, I can walk with you-”

You shook your head, a wide smile still plastered across your lips. “Nope, I just need a direction.”

Santi jumped in quickly. “That building when we first came in, near the tennis courts.”

You nodded and started forward, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Why was this happening right now? You were fine a moment ago and now you felt as though you couldn’t catch your breath. You shivered, remembering the feeling again and putting your hand on the back of your neck to stop it.

A soldier…. it made sense. You were too stupid to have seen it, the nicknames and the holiday...... 

Thankfully, they were single stall restrooms; you pulled the door shut and locked it behind you. The bottom of the floor was disgusting and filled with wet sand. You lifted yourself up onto the counter and sat, trying to calm down. A soldier, a soldier, you kept repeating to yourself. It was too similar. The anger, the potential for violence…. just like your husband. 

You placed your head in your hands, and suddenly you were back in New Jersey. It was a bitter February, snow still on the ground. You were in your bathroom hiding as David raged in the living room and screamed at his coworker on the phone. A little boy had been killed by his father weeks ago. David was assigned to the case. When the trial came, the jury found the man innocent and let him walk free, even though all the evidence pointed to him as the killer. It was an embarrassment to David and the entire homicide unit

“God fucking dammit, y/n! y/n!”

You pulled yourself up on shaking legs, straightened your dress and walked out. David was red in the face waiting for you. “I thought I told you to call Comcast, did I not?”

“They said that they could get someone out here Wednesday because of the snow-”

He took the television remote and threw it at you as hard as he could; he aimed for your face but it hit your shoulder instead. The plastic connected straight with your collarbone. You doubled over in pain, holding it as it throbbed. He stalked up to you and you moved back, the fear evident in your eyes.

His voice was teetering on the edge of lunacy as he screamed at you.

“I give you a simple fucking job to do and you can’t even get it done. You’re a lazy fat fucking bitch.” he shoved you hard but you manged to keep standing. “Spend all day sitting on your fucking ass while I have to go to work for the both of us! I need the television because I need to see the news coverage of the fucking case! You knew this! Or would you like me to get fired and the both of us live on the fucking streets!” He shoved you again, and you fell against the stone fireplace. Your hands came up to shield your face as he picked up the remote and hit you with it repeatedly. It caught your lip, busting it open. 

You didn’t care about the blood, all you could think about was the gun still holstered in his belt. You got the television fixed the next day-

“Summer?” 

You stood quickly and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, pretending like nothing was wrong. “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” 

It was Frankie. 

You shook your head and smiled in the dingy plastic mirror in front of you. “Yeah, why?”

He could hear that you had been crying. He pushed on the door but it was locked. 

You didn’t like that at all; you slipped off the counter and sat on the floor, against the door. Bracing it closed with your body “I’m fine-”

“You’re crying-”

“No, I’m not I- I get allergies and that horsefly hurt. I am such a baby I’ve always had a low pain tolerance-”

“If it’s something that I did -”

“Nope, it’s nothing that you did. I’m fine, I’m really, really fine I promise. I just got overwhelmed and needed some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you guys can eat without me. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Frankie wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to force anything. “Would you like me to save you a plate?”

“Yes, please.”

You could hear his footsteps start to retreat and relaxed a little. 

“Summer?”

“Yeah?”

Frankie was about to say something, but he thought better of it. He figured it was better to let you have your space now.

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

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“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

⁜

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

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⁜

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“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

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⁜

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“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

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[venenatd]

atsumu x reader; motion sickness - chapter three.

summary; atsumu wants to get to know reader better, and somehow convinces her to take him to the ice rink

content warnings; nsfw content, public sex, unprotected sex (nothing will come from it), dom/sub undertones

a/n; i hope u enjoy!! i think from here on out i get more into the swing of things and much prefer my writing so i hope u do too! reblogs/thoughts are v appreciated <3

ao3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | 18+ minors dni

Choosing to wake up alone means the bed is cool and spacious. You can roll over and feel nothing. Sheets fold against your body, swallowing you whole. No need to tug them away, they are all for you. You push the thoughts away too, the idea that there could have been a warmth to tuck into. All throughout your routine you ignore how someone else could fit into it. 

Breakfast alone stings a little more, the hotel full of families and teams. You’re more aware now at the buffet, of the many muscular men that stand around in groups. They pile plates high of the day's energy. Wildebeest at the watering hole, you note to yourself. If there was anyone to eye roll at, you would. You notice you don’t see a certain head of toned blond hair. Not that you’re looking for it, you remind yourself.

People watching is best done on your own however, and your eyes flit between young couples, children spilling honey down their chins, and people desperate for the relief of caffeine. 

Alone is safe and comforting. An observer, as Faiz would often call you. Watching and analysing and playing with the stories in your mind. You can live through the honeyed child, the tired parent. Give them a job, a goal, a life. It’s fun to enter their space, if for a moment. 

The moment ends as Faiz breaks into your thoughts, fragments of faux futures shatter around you. “I have a challenge for you today.” 

“Oh?” 

“I want you to trust me,” the cheeky glint in his eye makes you want to do anything but.

“You already know I do.” His overjoyed energy is infectious, and your morning of distraction in other people’s brains has been replaced. You can feed off him to feel full. “What are you planning?” 

“So, before you ask he’s down,” he begins, grinning at your raised brow, “but I think you should work with Makito today.” You chew on your toast for a minute, thinking through what Faiz is really asking. Or telling, as is more often when it comes to your coach. 

“It’s for p—”

“Passion, you dumbass.” 

“—ssion, isn’t it? Oi.” you go to flick his forehead, but he’s too quick and instead gets yours. “Ow, Faiz. Insulting and hurting me? Your favourite skater?” 

“My favourite skater you may be, but you also need to score well. And I’ve got a plan.” 

He drones on for a while, about how working with Makito is going to help create an environment where you’re performing for someone in particular. If you are embers, he will try and find someone or something to breathe the fire into you. You see how much he’s thought about this, and hey, you’re willing to give it a go if it might help. 

As you make your leave from the hotel restaurant, you bump into something. Firm and tall and moving in such an ecstatic manner that it’s almost difficult to believe it’s so early in the morning. The someone grabs your shoulders, almost picking you up to move you to his side. You fluster, and they lean down to you.

“Sorry, sorry! Apparently way too hungry for breakfast,” his voice is deep but keeps the same energy as his movements. “Wait, do I know you?” 

And then you see it. Another flashback to your night of heavy drinking. A shock of white and black hair, and bird-like features. “Barely, I think. I was drinking with your,” you’re not sure what term to settle on, “teammate, I think? Atsumu?”

“Yes, Tsum Tsum’s girl! Hey!” 

“I’m not—”

“She’s not—”

And there he is. Sun gold hair still damp from an early shower. He looks like the warmth you were missing that morning. You didn’t miss it, you correct your runaway thoughts. It’s just a feeling you were once used to. 

“Oh. Awkward. Well, breakfast calls!”

Like that the owl flees the nest. 

“I should get going,” you say, shuffling past him as an attempt to run from the atmosphere. You don’t need to talk about it, or what you did. Hookups are a lot easier when you’re not both staying at the same hotel. 

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he calls after you, waiting a second for you to turn. You shouldn’t turn around. Not if you don’t want to give him the chance to offer again. But it’s like his voice has a command over you, and you pause briefly. He rewards you with the easy curl of his lips and the way it shows in his cheeks. A small flash of hope in his eyes. “I’ll teach you a spike for a spin.” 

At least there’s someone for you to roll your eyes at now. 

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Glad ya keepin’ up.”

Atsumu is quickly realising that you don’t quite speak your mind. It’s always you won’t take no, you don’t have to. It’s so far never been, I’m interested, I want that. There’s something about the way your brain is wired that makes him curious. Not that he would tell you about the other women that have flit through his life, but his type usually falls under demanding, high strung. Osamu would tease him that he dates reflections of himself. They could barely be considered dates, if he really looks into it. It’s always to bars and parties, his ‘date’ enjoying the expensive alcohol or his teammates. 

Maybe he does have a jealous streak. When he goes for those who throw themselves at him, he never quite expects them to do the same to his teammates in turn. It’s nice to be wanted though, if only as a stepping stone. 

If you are not demanding, it would only be natural to assume you are easy or effortless. But you are not that either. You need persuasion and nudging to agree to the course you want anyway. 

You are a curiosity, Atsumu thinks as you enter the rink together. His practice isn’t till late, your schedules are so perfectly mis-aligned. 

The not-boyfriend from the bar is here too, pushing off the seats to greet you. Atsumu stays back and lets you explain the situation, giving a polite nod when Faiz is introduced as your coach. He relaxes more when Faiz gives him a grin, one that spills with knowledge of late night escapades.

“So, you’re the guy?” 

“Am I the guy?” he questions you, and as your eyes once again move to roll, he speaks again, “y’know, your eyes might get stuck like that one day.” 

“I told her the same thing!” Faiz laughs, patting Atsumu’s back. “She’s always doing it too, as if I’m so below her.”

“Both of you should stop talking.” It’s cute, he thinks. Your little pout that you probably think looks oh so stern. Brows knitted and a finger to your temple. A kindergartner would laugh in your face. 

“Faiz, I hate to break it to you. But she didn’t deny it.” His hand squeezes Faiz’s shoulder, a look of woe playing on his face. The coach responds with a hand clasped to his chest, stepping back as if your words have shot him. 

He mutters your name under his breath, as if shocked by the revelation. “You’ve been using me all this time? And here I thought we were friends.” Faiz looks between you, lips trying so hard to fight a smile, and the beaming blonde next to him. “And him? You’re using him for se—”

Your eyes widen, and your hand immediately goes to slap your palm over Faiz’s mouth. “Okay! Okay, I get it! Very funny Faiz, very funny Atsumu. You’re both first class athletes and comedians.” 

There’s murmuring that comes from the fingers covering Faiz, and you open them just enough for Faiz to let you, “was it any good at least?” before you close them again. 

Atsumu goes to open his mouth, goes to prod more fun in your direction. But your hand goes from Faiz’s mouth, to his hand, and you’re pulling him and his words away. 

“Please not in the locker room,” Faiz calls in your general direction, to which you pull your signature middle finger back at him. 

“Are we gonna do it in the locker room?” Atsumu asks, praying the slight element of hope is hidden by the teasing. How easy it would be to guide your hand in his, move it towards your waistband.

“You wish.” He does.

“I like your coach.” Atsumu leans against the rows of lockers, watching you swap shoes for skates, “seems more fun than mine.”

“He knows me better than anyone. And he’s honest, doesn’t hide anything,” you speak as if it's routine. A question that has an automatic answer. “I already regret letting you two meet.”

“Oh c’mon, Golide,” he trails after you, admiring how on earth you can walk so comfortably on blades. “We both know you enjoy it.” 

“You need me to say it?” you question as you step on the ice, whisking away before he can respond. 

Maybe he doesn’t need you to say it, but he certainly wants you to. There’s elements of your attitude that Atsumu wants to learn. Why you very clearly have walls up, and how he can seep into the cracks. 

Faiz comes to stand next to him, both of them watching as you move across the ice. Now you do seem effortless. Atsumu is sure it takes huge effort for you to push yourself across the ice, but somehow it looks like you prefer it to walking. 

“So,” Faiz begins, and Atsumu knows the tone of the protective friend, “you like her?” 

As much as you can after hanging out with someone a couple of times. Atsumu knows he’s become curious. Is that liking you? It sounds like something a teenager would say. So far he knows he likes aspects of you. Your smile, first of all. The banter between you both is easy, it keeps him on his toes. Your moans and sarcasm are both equally sweet. 

“Something like that.”

Faiz hums thoughtfully and Atsumu thinks he’s not going to do it, and that he doesn’t need to make any promises. “Just be nice to her. She deserves that.” 

It’s a weird way to phrase don’t hurt her, but Atsumu nods nonetheless. Just like that the men are back to smooth and easy jokes and discussions of career. 

Eventually another man, the other not-boyfriend Atsumu recalls, joins them, and Faiz bids his goodbyes. They both go towards you on the rink, and so your new lesson begins.

Makito is almost giddy to work with you. His movements are too quick and too erratic for you to feel calm. Your head is usually clear in practice. Knowing where the exact places your skates should be, the extension of your hands. But it’s fogged doing it with someone else, as well as knowing two pairs of eyes are watching. 

You had begun by simply holding on to one another, doing the most basic of motions to make sure you were working together well, and that no one was going to trip over the other. Deeming it a success, Faiz had moved onto the next challenge. 

“Remember, this is all about feeling with Makito,” he instructs, putting both your hands on each other, “I want to see you responding to him. Acting the part.” Pretending to be in love is what he really means. 

You both move across the ice, you’re meant to be jumping into Makito’s lap and the two of you leaning back to balance the weight. The idea is to make it look sexy, alluring, erotic. All words that you think far from describe you. 

From the edge of the rink Atsumu wolf whistles, and he imagines the eye roll, although he’s not sure he likes the idea of that so much when you’re seated in someone else's lap. 

“Makito, how did that feel?” Faiz quizzes.

He winces, looking sheepishly towards you before he answers. “Like she thought she was going to fall.” 

“Did you think you were going to fall?” He directs the question your way, but you think he knows the answer. Curse him understanding you inside and out. 

“I- I don’t know. Trying so hard to look romantic I didn’t think about much else.” 

It goes on like that for long enough that you’re both sweating. The same song plays on repeat as you go through set movements again and again. It makes it feel like both so much and so little time is passing. Even Atsumu is just flicking through his phone now. Why did you say yes to him coming again? You know Faiz can feel your agitation, the way you bristle each time he instructs you to look a certain way. If trying your best was enough, you’d be done by now. 

“Go. Take a break,” Faiz instructs. He’ll give you some time to cool off as he always does, letting you work it out isolated. It’s what works best for your brain. A whole other routine, walking away and turning music up far too loud. Stewing in it all. Absorbing yourself in the negative feelings until you can push them away or find something to distract yourself from them. 

It feels like you should be alone this time. Too many wrong buttons pushed and you could snap at someone only to regret it. Too bad for you that you said yes to your newest irritant. 

“You looked awesome” Atsumu begins, looking up from whatever feed he’s swiping through. He can barely finish the sentence before your face causes him to falter. 

There are two pairs of steps echoing down the hallway, the creak of a rusty hinge swinging twice. Hopes of a lonesome sanctuary in the locker room are dashed.

“Hey, you okay?”

His face is full of concern, which puzzles you. Your fingers struggle to unlace your shoes. Must you struggle with everything when it comes to your profession? Maybe a distraction would be better. 

“Goldie?” 

The nickname bounces around in your mind, coupled with I’ve got you. Your shoes are off and next comes your sweater. Tugging it over your head and discarding it unceremoniously on the floor. 

“Do you need anything?”

Perspiration still clings to your body, coming down from your workout on the ice. He is standing there, so big, so broad. It’s like a magnet is drawing you closer. He is a distraction wrapped in an aggravatingly handsome face and strong body. 

“Yes, I do.”

His eyes flick down to your chest, heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat. Not the time, Atsumu. You’re looking up at him through your lashes, and his lips part, thinking about- not the time. He thought it was annoyance in your eyes, but the darkness seems to hold a different weight. Fists are balled by your side, and he’s not sure if you’re holding yourself back from punching a wall or something else. 

“Fuck me, Atsumu.” 

“What?” His brain is short circuiting, he thinks. ‘It’s not the time’ he repeats again and again. He’d promised to be nice to you and suddenly he’s not sure if that means talking you down or engaging with you in all the ways he wants to. 

“You wanted to, right? Just fuck me.”

All of your body language is screaming at him to grab you and pull you in. Your palm crosses against his pectorals, your fingers curling to tease your nails down past his naval. 

“You want me to beg Atsumu?” On tip toes you can push your body against his. Low and whispered against your voice is at the shell of his ear. “You want me to say please?”

The tensing of his muscles underneath his shirt makes you not want to pull away. You want Atsumu to want you. No, you want him to need you. To show you that you’re good for something. So you fall back on your feet, starting to turn away, heart dropping for a moment when he stays still. Maybe you’re the desperate one. 

But then his hand grips around your arm, pushing you firmly against the row of lockers. His mouth crushes yours before you can even think of teasing him. Gripping under your ass, he brings your legs around his waist. You smile into the kiss as you notice he’s already half hard. 

He almost growls into your sigh, realising that he does not have easy access to you like this. Slow ruts against you, easily bringing you against his crotch as Atsumu keeps you stuck between his body and the lockers. He needs convincing to let you away from him for even a second. “Say it again.” 

“Please Atsumu. Please fuck me.”

It tips him over, sends him into some sort of feral need for your cunt. Dropping and rotating you, pushing you back up against the cool metal. 

Fingers rip at your leggings and panties, rolling them just far enough down your ass. You think he may manage to leave you with bruises when he grabs your hips again. He is always on you, whether it’s his tongue on your neck, his hands pulling down your cami to cup your tits. 

Your hands scramble behind you, desperately trying to pull at his pants. He’s quick to entertain you, bringing them down and tugging his cock a few times. 

Foreplay be fucking damned. You think you’re wet enough, or at least the stretch and burn of Atsumu buried inside you will be enough to sedate your over active mind. “I need you inside me. I n- need you to fill me, ‘Tsumu.”

As much as Atsumu wants to treasure your body, give you all that you deserve, the pure desire that fills your voice drives him into a new space entirely. 

His head presses at that tight ring of muscle, letting himself be lathered in your slick. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes it between his teeth to let it slowly drop on his cock. You whine, begging more and more. Pushing yourself back on him as best you can with your waistband keeping your thighs pressed together. 

Atsumu’s thumb pushes his spit around your already stretched hole, then moving down to press against your clit. It’s enough for him to fully sheath himself, giving you the delicious burn you were hoping for. 

You’ve never been fucked like this. Never been needy enough to beg for it, and fuck, maybe it’s because Atsumu seemed so eager to make you feel good before. Maybe it’s that you know you don’t have to feel anything more than his length pushing against your satin walls again and again. You’ll go home, and all the deranged things your mind made you do can stay here. 

Words fall from your lips, you’ve been the one talking- begging so far. “Harder, please, please, please, fuck yes.” One large hand is holding your elbows together behind you, the other plucking at your nipples or passing over your clit. He can’t make his mind up, each one drawing a new sound from you until you're babbling under him. Going from nothing to having Atsumu smacking his hips against your ass, oversensitive everywhere as you’re grabbed and played with.

“Yeah? You can’t even beg for it anymore, huh?” 

Glazed over eyes look back at him, as if his cock has been a complete shock to your system. 

But you’re defiant. “P-Please,” he makes out through your gritted teeth. 

It makes him think of things you both could do. Things that need safe words and more trust than he feels you’re willing to give. 

He’s close, feeling his abdomen and thighs tingle and tighten. There’s some part of him that wants you to be open to ideas, open to the trust that they’d need. He would need it. 

Quick thrusts slow. Atsumu moves deep and slow, his hand letting your arms go and wrapping under your chest. He almost fully pulls out before driving back in, leaving you gulping for air in short gasps. His fingers massage your clit, and instead of mocking you he’s whispering encouragement. 

“You feel so good, so, hah, s’fuckin’ good. Wan— wanna make you feel it all, wanna make you feel good.” 

You don’t even realise your satin walls are fluttering around him, but Atsumu does. The tightness of your pussy around him makes him want to fill you up with his cum, and then he realises. No condom. Fuck. He looks at your fucked out face, eyebrows raising in bliss.

More whispered praise against your ear, and now you can feel it too. The coil in your stomach that’s making you tighten, making you open your eyes in surprise. He’s not saying it, but all you can think about is Atsumu saying “I’ve got you” because you’re so sure he does. Holding you up and close to his body, wanting you to also feel the pleasure you can see etched across his handsome features. 

Before you realise it’s happening you're falling, spasming around his cock. Repeating “‘Tsumu, ‘tsumu, ‘tsumu” in a rapturous melody. Moans echo around the locker room, and Atsumu’s pulling out from between your plush folds, leaving you to clench around nothing. His cum coats your ass, jerking himself off to completion, wishing so hard it was your cunt milking every drop from him. 

Slow and sweet kisses pepper your shoulder and neck, the cheek that isn’t pressed into the metal. “You feel good?” he says softly between pecks. 

“Yeah, I… I needed that.” His thumbs massage into your hips, as if he’s working out the bruises that will definitely be there tomorrow. It’s another show of care that leaves you unsettled. “Feel better without your cum on my ass.”

Atsumu lets out a low chuckle, and he steps back to admire his work. A pretty painting, if he says so himself. Tucking himself away, he has to leave you standing awkwardly to run and grab tissues. There’s sincerity in how he cleans you up too, not quick and hurried as he should be. His fingers smooth over the curve of your ass, leaving more kisses in his wake. 

Once you’re clean, he neatens your hair and pulls your leggings back up. You smooth out your smudged mascara and you both head back towards the rink. It’s too quiet for too long, but before you can interrupt the silence he does.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Hmm?” you hum.

“You said you needed it. Frustrated about something?” 

The cold hits you both as you push open the doors into the rink. Makito and Faiz nod at you both before going back to their conversation. Probably about how much you suck at anything close to passion, you think, the feelings you’d just managed to smother becoming too quick to resurface. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyebrows deepen and his brown eyes are full of so much sincerity you can’t help but go on. “So, I did pairs skating for a while, like what you saw earlier.”

He lets out little hums as you talk, reassuring notes of interest. “But then I moved to singles, and lost the spark and, uh—”

“The passion.” Fuck Faiz and his fucking passion. Atsumu grins at him for a moment, and you’re waiting for the onslaught of teasing to begin, but it doesn’t. His eyes return to you, his smile stays, dropping from cheeky into something softer. 

“That. Passion, the desire, the,” you gesture wildly, “the stuff that turns it from spins and jumps into a performance.” 

“And that’s what you were doing with your friend?” Atsumu points at Makito. 

“The lift? Yeah, seeing if I’ve still got it in pairs.”

In a flash Atsumu is lifting you for the second time today, grabbing you by the waist despite your “hey!” Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the breath being pulled from you as he manhandles you easily. 

One large palm spreads across your back, and your body is running on it’s latest experience, curving back. Is he also thinking about what just happened, thinking about how he was going to take you like this? His face still holds onto something dark, his eyes lingering with lust. You pray your own doesn’t betray you, that you can feign it as surprise. 

“That’s it! That’s the look!” Atsumu and you both turn to your coach. 

His eyes wide and excited, both hands pointing at your face. Faiz is almost jumping up and down on the spot. “That’s what will make people notice! You did it!”

Your cheeks warm, watching Atsumu try to lean back also, replicating what he saw Makito do earlier. He’s strong and beautiful and everything you’re sure many women want. But with his eyebrows drawn in deep concentration, trying so hard to be elegant… He looks utterly ridiculous. Like that you’re giggling, hands having to loop around his neck to keep yourself from laughing your way to the floor. 

You sound so good when you laugh. The challenge of getting it out of you is what first caught Atsumu. A smile made his drunken self feel gooey. Now sober, the noise of you trying to even your breathing as you give him a full bodied laugh. It makes him want to cup your face, marvel at your eyes creasing, the way the corners of your lips curl. 

“And it’s gone again.” Faiz sighs, but it’s warm and full of so many emotions but not disappointment. 

Eyes full of sweet browns and honey catch you off guard. He’s looking too intently at you. Your smile fades, body going more rigid in his hands. Atsumu lets you drop, making sure you’re steady before his hands move from your waist. 

Practice starts back up, Atsumu watching from the sidelines. He can’t hear the discussion well enough between the trio on the ice, and soon his attention splits back between you and his phone.

His thumbs move quickly, typing out a ‘you’ll never believe what just happened’ to the MSBY group chat before he pauses, and presses against the backspace. To share what just happened feels wrong. It felt a little too personal. You needed him for a moment. If he was to tell the team, it’d be a fun anecdote. There’s the chance they could piece together it was with you, and if he can convince you to come to a game… 

Atsumu doesn’t want to mess it up. 

So instead his fingers take him to a different message, and start to type again.

Me // 11:21am

>> oi, i got a question for u

Samu🍙 // 11:24am

>> yes you need to wash everywhere. including there. 

Me // 11:24am

>> ok

>> guess i’ll ask someone else

>> scrub

Samu🍙 // 11:24am

>> don’t be a baby

>> what’s up

His quick typing stops for a moment, watching you jump into Makito’s lap once more, and then the three of you are grinning and high fiving. 

Me // 11:25am

>> have u ever liked someone 

>> like liked

Samu🍙// 11:25am

>> are you 12 years old 

>> i’ve had literal girlfriends

>> i’m trying to get ready for the lunch rush and you’re asking me about crushes?

Me // 11:25am

>> is a few days too soon to know

Samu🍙// 11:26am

>> depends i guess

>> you like someone?

Atsumu doesn’t know how to respond to that, so just hits the call button. 

“I told you I’m tryna be prepared,” Osamu immediately berates his older brother, talking about how there’s only so much time before he’s going to be swarmed. 

“Well, if ya shut it for a minute, I’d be able to talk.”

“Fine. So who’s my favorite twin crushin’ on?” he asks the question in a song, making Atsumu regret the call in the first place.

“I’m your only twin, dumbass,” he mutters, interrupting Osamu before they go off topic again. “I don’t know if I like her. We’ve hooked up a few times,” a gross comes from down the line, “but she’s just cool. I don’t know, dude. I just want to get to know her more.” 

“So what does it matter if you like her? Just get to know her.” Coming from Osamu it seems simpler. Sometimes his thoughts can run off, get muddled and confused and overwhelming. But Osamu’s always been the calmer, the one who can keep him on track and call him out when he needs it. If Atsumu is a boat in a storm, Osamu is the anchor. 

A few more words are spoken back and forth, general housekeeping to know what’s happening in each other's lives, before Osamu has to work, and Atsumu is left with his thoughts. There’s still that annoying doubt at the back of his mind. A little worm that’s dug so far down, even with someone else helping it’s hard to get out. 

What if you don’t like him?

You apologise for his cold rosy cheeks and how long he had to sit and watch. He reassures you that he had fun, the both of you headed back outside into the heat of the city. You fall into place easily next to one another, walking by the river rather than ordering a car back to the hotel. Atsumu had persuaded you, protesting that without the warmth of the sun, how could he ever regain feeling in his nose. 

“Next time you’ll have to get me on the ice.”

“You already impressed Faiz so much, are you sure you’re ready for the career change?” 

“I’m sure a publicist could work it,” he’s quick to respond, holding hands out wide in front of the both of you, “I can see it now. The great Miya Atsumu conquers the ice skating world. Is there anything he can’t get gold in?” 

“Real humble, Miya,” you say with an exasperated smile. 

“Miya?” he echoes, “and here I thought I was gonna get a nickname.”

You’re either looking up at him with a quizzical stare or the afternoon sun is in your eyes. Either way Atsumu notes that it’s a cute expression, one that brings out the flecks of colour in your irises. 

Pausing for a moment, people shuffle around you, going about their days in the city. Bringing his lips to your ear, you can feel the width of his smile on your cheek. “‘Tsumu, ‘Tsumu, please ‘Tsumu” he whispers the whines - your whines - much to your dismay. 

Pushing him away, you’re only reminded of the hard planes of his abs, and now there’s definitely heat rising in your face. “Shut it Miya,” you wish you said with more defiance. Your grumble let’s him know he’s won your embarrassment.

“Thought ya liked it when I talked,” he teases, twisting you around by the shoulder to keep walking. The way you try and avoid eye contact only makes him want it more, and deciding between poking fun and giving in is all too difficult. 

You come around quickly though, Atsumu using his seemingly effortless charisma to smooth over jokes, bring you back out of your shell. There’s a feeling that he can, innately, get people on his side. Despite his seeming arrogance and over-confidence, he takes the quips you throw at him on his shoulder. Letting deep chuckles spill off his tongue and reassuring touches whenever he responds in a similar jest. 

Atsumu tugs you left and right, pointing your way back to the hotel with ease. The walk proves longer than the twenty minutes Google Maps promised you, trusting Atsumu when he says he ‘knows these streets like the back of his hand’. He does know them pretty well, at least knows that right turns should in fact be left. But the banter and laughter you two are sharing is doing more to him than the sun. It’s still surface level, discussions about plans for the week, where your home is. There’s a segment featuring each of your favorite colours, foods and films. 

“Really? Rear Window?”

“What? It’s a classic!” 

“The fact that you’ve even seen it surprises me.”

He goes on to explain that yes, it was the only film available at the hotel, but that he admired the determination of the main character. You wouldn’t have pegged him for watching anything considered old, or classic, let alone admiring the story. “And Grace Kelly, right?”

“I mean,” he begins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck “yeah but—” 

Your giggles quiet him. 

Eventually you’re back where it began, standing outside the hotel looking at one another. 

“So, are you goin’ give me your number or am I goin’ to have to beg you for it?”

“Oh, there’s a chance you’ll beg for it?” 

You don’t miss the glint in his eyes, flashing quickly before it passes. “Is that a no, Goldie?” 

It would be easier if it was a no. Your hands are acting on want, pulling your phone out and handing it to him with contact screen open before you can think too much about it. 

“You better text me.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

Atsumu hopes that you will. Maybe asking him to a meal or if you need him again, to your room. He settles that want next to another. No running before you can even walk. Like Osamu said, just getting to know one another.

Afternoon practice is long. Time spent sweating and running and jumping for hours away from his phone. He’s thinking about hyper active teammates, making sure he’s setting just right for them. Touching you right. All of his energy spent on the blue and yellow ball before him. Spending his energy on you. Then he’s on to letting his mind be consumed by proteins and carbs and what he can eat over the next week. Maybe just a film in, rather than dinner out. Thinking about Kiyoomi who’s acting all analytical, watching the group and remarking on Atsumu’s performance. 

“You seem distracted.” 

But he’s not, of course. He can laugh it off and joke around with Bokuto in the locker room. Purposefully not thinking about earlier in the day. His heart wouldn’t race when he finally can open up his phone. It wouldn’t thump in his chest when he checks his notifications.

 Unknown Number // 5:48pm

>> i can’t think of anything cool to say so

>> hi tsumu✨

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Omg do you have more cute hcs with the lov and class1a/1b

I dont care how long or short it is, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE READING THEM 💕💕💕💕💖 😊😊

Theyre so comforting <333

YES I HAVE A BUNCH. COME TAKE IT ALL.

Tomura is an expert in video games, right? Well, he's currently working from afar with Hatsume and Melissa to create a VR system to help the kids at UA train.

Everything because the first thing he did when meeting Nezu was telling him the UA system sucked.

No more public exposure, no more simple barriers keeping away the villains from the kids, no more pushing them to dangerous places with no proper supervision.

The new job of the League when it comes to working is the UA is keeping the place as safe as possible and helping the kids recover from the trauma of the war.

Dabi doesn't like working directly with the kids, so his job consist on patrolling around the UA. In case a crisis is reported, he's the first at the place and his job is to keep the crisis on minimum 'til the teachers arrive.

The funniest part is the type of crisis he has solved so far. They include:

Helping people with their crushes because they tried to confess and caused an accident. (Dabi has the fun of his life with it, being honest).

Accidents in the kitchen. (No much he can do except using Shoto as a way of taking down the flames).

Stupid fights (He is banned from helping in those since he cheered for Shoto when he was fistfighting Iida for saying something to Midoriya).

And his favorite: keeping Mineta at bay. Dabi is not the type of gentleman that defends women constantly, because he just doesn't care about helping anyone. But Mineta is a type of gross he would have incinerate in the streets if he was a man and not a kid. So instead, he just walks from a safe distance and keeps scaring the kid when he's about to annoy one of the girls.

Tomura always find Dabi is the halls complaining about the no smoking rule

They make fun of each other a little until they realize they should be working and there are kids staring at them.

Class 1-A talks about Dabi like the older brother who was in jail.

Oh, but Dabi told me...

They are actually well informed about a bunch of stuff and they know how to take care of street criminals better now.

Ah, but they're also the ones who check if he is not drinking too much, if he's having proper rest, if his burns and staples are taken care of, if he's not too anxious or depressed, if hes' taking his meds...

If he's not following one of those, they call Natsuo. Oh man, Natsuo has become the emergency contact of half the League somehow. Maybe because he has a golden heart or maybe because they all are scared of Fuyumi by some weird reason.

Shoto is the other emergency contact when it comes to Dabi, hmmm, but sometimes he just follows Dabi bad example and well.

Dabi is the anti-Santa. He's gonna give you that one gift you wanted but everyone said no because it's dangerous.

"Dabi, I'm trying to make a safer space for the kids" , "Tomura, I'm trying to make them relax".

After getting fired twice by Aizawa, Dabi is finally behaving.

This has nothing to do with the fact that he's finally dating Tomura tho.

WHICH TAKE US TO: SPINNER, THE BROTHER WHO ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGES HIS RESPONSIBILITIES.

Spinner works in the same thing as Dabi, but he's the reliable one.

Getting Uraraka down when she starts floating on her sleep, calming people down when they're having anxiety attacks, noting when someone is having a bad day and requesting the teachers to let the person rest...

Spinner is the one actually helping them with their ptsd. He makes everything so easy and pleasant. It's like they're just kids taking classes and having fun.

Besides, class 1-B knows he is amazing at cuddling and people love his hugs. Just by seeing Spinner, they cheer up.

He and Shinso are responsible for the purple hair tendency among the kids of General Studies. Their heroes.

He's also the one who helps the kids with their training sessions when they need a partner but there's no one else to help them.

He became one of the official bus drivers of the school after taking some lessons and requesting a license.

He sings with them while they travel, he always has snacks in case someone is hungry and he has pills in case someone is motion sick. Well, a bunch of pills since Dabi is always motion sick.

He had a crush on Tomura but he realized it was more platonic than anything.

Now now, Tomura and Spinner have matching gamer tattoos that said Player #1 and Player #2. Dumbasses in action.

If Dabi is the problematic uncle and Spinner is the responsible uncle...

That leave us with: Compress the artistic dad and Kurogiri the dad who's always working far away but you can totally rely on.

THE VIDEO CALLS WITH KUROGIRI AND COMPRESS ARE SO CUTE.

101 Flirting with Compress.

All the kids in all courses have a personalized mask. Compress is addicted to creating them.

His beautiful, mischievous kids that once, trying to distract him, stole his prosthesis and kept it going around the school from room to room.

Turns out it was a surprise party, but man if it was fun because Compress pretended the whole time he was a pirate looking for his long buried treasure.

HE GOT A PARROT AND HE NAMED HIM RED BEAK.

Bakugo almost exploded the whole place after hearing such a ridiculous name.

Well, Red Beak loves making fun of Bakugo, repeating everything he says.

RED BEAK AND KIRISHIMA ARE BESTIES. YES YES.

The Bakusquad would kill for Red Beak.

Sero is teaching him Spanish, Mina is teaching him to dance, Denki is teaching him bad jokes and Jirou is teaching him to sing.

Tokoyami is the official protector of Red Beak. Koda is the translator.

On the other hand, Kurogiri always gives them some honey and other things when he visits the school.

He congratulates them on their achievements, he hears them for hours talking about their adventures and he is the old friend you call when it's 3am, you're feeling bad but you don't want to worry no one else.

If you want to solve a problem, call Kurogiri. He's gonna give you the clues but let you solve it yourself.

The award for the dad with more patience goes to: KUROGIRI.

If you really really need to run away from some hours, he can use his quirk to rescue you and he would prepare some tea for you, wrap you in a soft sweater and walk with you through his yard. You can pick flowers or fruit with him until you calm down. Or you can watch old movies with him. Or bake. Being with him is like floating around in the sky, no worries, just clouds and stars and soft noises and lights.

The school always knows when it happens and they are okay with it. Mostly. Just don't do it too much.

Toga is another good option if you need to talk but you don't know with who.

She's actually a great listener and an expert on making things look less stressing than they are. You see, she pays attention at your triggers and moods and if she sees something is bothering the students, she finds a way to distract them immediately, while letting the teachers deal with the problem.

Ah, the queen of gossip.

If you want to know something about someone you need to pay the prize, tho. And she won't even tell you if she considers the secret must be guarded 'til the grave.

She's the one who takes the messages to the parents because she's fast, can hide at plain sight and doesn't put them in danger.

You never know where Toga is. She someone studies like the rest of them, but she's like, selected to secret missions. She has a lot of info but they all trust her somehow.

Maybe is the fact that she would kill and take a stab for you. And that she would never put Deku or Ochaco in danger. Or her family.

She's also Mineta's biggest nightmare.

Try sexualizing the girl and win a terrifying week, courtesy of Toga Himiko.

She won't let you sleep, she won't let you eat, you're gonna wish you were never born. She can make you feel as sexualized, observed and stalked as you make the girls feel. Oh, she's gonna show you exactly how it feels to be a girl.

Also don't sexualize the boys around her either. Stabby queen is not gentle to those who are not gentle with her friends. Period.

Friendly reminder: 0 stabbing accidents since she started studying at UA.

BECAUSE THEY GAVE HER A RUBBER KNIFE.

And finally, the Tomura headcanons.

He's always falling asleep on odd places. The kids have a new name called "let's put a blanket on Tomura".

And then they call Dabi or Spinner to take him somewhere more comfortable.

He's working so hard. He's really working so hard on redeeming himself, even when everyone has already forgiven him. But he has this fear of being a failure or being too much...

The kids are also well trained on how to help him through his anxiety or panic attacks. Even more, some of them have always a pair of gloves in them just in case.

Momo is more than happy to make him more.

It's kinda sad how much he's suffering even now. That's way they all do their best to let him know his doing great.

Kisses in the cheek, compliments on how he's looking, new products to his hair and skin, playing the games he recommends, telling how badass he is when he trains them...

Somehow being around Tomura has help them realize how important is communicating stuff. They all are way healthier now.

Tomura is just... So sincere. He's been instructed to share his thoughts, because he had a problem before with communicating properly. That means he used to forget saying certain information because it was obvious to him, but not to others.

He doesn't mean to hurt people. He's just saying what he thinks. Which also means he offends a bunch of people not by accident. And he doesn't apologize because he is just doing what he's been told.

Midoriya and Shigaraki's discussions are epic. And so are their fights. Yes, they fight like siblings. Which is crazy funny because they are like "friendly reminder you tried to KILL ME" and "WELL YOU DESERVED THAT FOR BEING A DICK".

They've finally found out that you can complain to him or get a little violent and he's not gonna even blink, just hear you out.

It was because Bakugo got a little violent with him and yeah, he just stared back waiting.

You can't imagine Dabi's anger when Tomura told him about Kotaro. He was frustrated because at least Tomura did step on Endeavor and humiliated him for life, but him? He is angry with a man that's dead and gone.

Okay no, the whole League is angry about the things that has happened to the whole League. That's the thing with finally being able to relax and feel. It all comes back in a flood.

They have prohibited being around school when the parents visit. Specially because they are no very civil to shitty parents.

And if a kid confess about having shitty parents, oh boy. The League is gonna BE PISSED.

The UA is still a total chaos, but now in the right ways. They have more normal problems, they don't have to win war and kill evil lords, they complain about not having money to go out and forgetting their homework. And the ex-villians can complain about life being boring a needing more action.

That's a good thing. That means they all are healing, together.

They're gonna be fine.