#so sorry but i'm tired and tired of looking at it so here you go lol

[giamee]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 6

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: You can't avoid it any longer -- it's time for you and Din to talk.

a/n: I feel like this is the moment many of you have been waiting for, lol. I'm very excited to see your reactions! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit more angst (sorry), but they are going to talk!

Chapter 6

You thought about your conversation with Kuiil as you walked to your rehearsal with Adrian, as you stretched and practiced in your morning classes, and as you took the stage over the weekend in Vince’s piece in the mixed program. You thought about it as you watched Din and Yuna in the Balanchine ballet and as you did your PT for your ankles and as you talked with Talia about your role in Midsummer. You thought about it as you sat on the bus home at night, so tired and achy that you needed something to think about to keep you awake.

You thought about it so much you barely had time to think about anything else.

Was Kuiil right? Was Din more uncertain than frustrated? Was he finding it difficult to communicate and connect in a way he hadn’t before, at CBC? You thought about seeing him on stage with Yuna, and how effortless that had seemed. But Balanchine’s choreography, more than so many others, was so technical, so focused on precision. There was so much less room for the dancer in a ballet where all of the space was taken up by striving for technical perfection. 

In class, you let your eyes stray to Din for the first time in two weeks. You watched as he stretched and jumped and wondered if perhaps you had just been talking past each other.

What if he’s trying, and you simply haven’t realized it? What if he just doesn’t know how?

He’s never done this before, you reminded yourself. 

Your mind was swimming as you stepped into the studio for your fourth rehearsal with Kuiil. You found Din was already there, as usual, and tried not to stare as you worried over your questions. You resolved to be more observant, this time.

And this time, because you were looking for it, you finally saw what Kuiil was talking about.

More than once, as you danced, Din reached for you, literally and figuratively. You leapt past and he oriented his body towards yours, echoing your movement. He turned, but kept his eyes on you as he did. You could see him trying in the ways he knew, to shape his movements around yours, to showcase his partner on stage, but his discomfort with improvisation shone through. The problem was that all of his movements were so stylistically different from yours, that there was little for you to hold on to. And so the two of you struggled to react to each other, as Kuiil had asked.

You tried. You tried to respond to him, to react, but it threw both of you off. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to improvise so drastically. Suddenly the dance was disjointed, and you fell so badly out of step in trying to turn towards him when he moved away from you that you stumbled. 

The music stopped.

Din turned to look at Kuiil and you spun around to do the same. 

Kuiil simply looked at you both for a moment, and then sighed. “I have pushed you too much, I think, and forgotten the basics of partnership. And you will need to work together, to connect more deeply, as we begin the second movement.” You started to shake your head, but Kuiil held up his hand. “No. Here is what we will do, as you prepare for Midsummer and Swan Lake.”

And then he gave you homework.

…

“So, what, is Kuiil going to lock you in a room until you talk to each other?” Adrian’s voice was teasing, but you could tell he meant it.

“Not quite,” you said. “But instead of rehearsal next week we’re supposed to try to get to know each other. To talk.”

He smirked at you. “Ooooh, to talk.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes?” You poked him in the side and he yelped. “Stop teasing me and help me figure out what to talk to him about.”

He laughed. “I think you know what to talk about. You just have to figure out how to get him to talk at all.”

You shook your head. “He’s talked to me. Just not about… this.” You waved your arm at all of the problems you’d been having in rehearsal.

Adrian seemed to consider that for a moment. “You know, you’re right. He does talk to you, in a way he doesn’t talk to anyone else.” He furrowed his brow. “Maybe all you need to do is ask.”

…

You followed Adrian’s advice and started with simply asking Din to meet you at the rehearsal studio, without Kuiil, to talk. He agreed readily and you decided to take that as a good sign.

It was the week of Midsummer’s debut, and you were focused to the point of distraction on your role as Hermia. You appreciated it for taking your mind off of the disaster that was the pas de deux, though, and by the time you found yourself outside of the studio where you’d meet Din you realized you’d barely thought about the meeting at all.

(Well, not much. Not as much as the week before, at least.)

He was, as usual, already inside.

You closed the door behind you and dropped your bag and shoes before moving to join him where he sat with his back to the mirror. As you slid down beside him, he nodded in greeting. 

“So,” you said, when it became obvious Din wasn’t going to jump in first. “I think we both know what the problem is, but where do we start?”

You looked at Din and took a moment to observe him up close. He was staring straight ahead, but you didn’t think he was looking at anything in particular. He seemed too inside his own mind for that.

Just when you began to worry that you’d have to push him, that this wasn’t going to work because he wasn’t going to meet you halfway, he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” 

You blinked, startled — you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. Did he think you meant he was the problem?

“What? Din, no—”

He shook his head and finally turned to look at you. His expression was as closed to you as always. “No, I want to say this. Let me… let me say this. I should have told you this weeks ago, but I can’t…” he trailed off, but this time you didn’t interrupt. You turned slightly towards him on the floor, extending your left leg and drawing your right knee to your chest. You gave him your full attention. He looked down at his hands and continued, softly. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve been so worried that I won’t be able to… to let go of my training. To dance in any other way. To do anything else.” 

You wanted to reach out to him, but you were worried he would startle if you did. You laced your own fingers together and squeezed your hands around your knee.

“I can see the problems, but I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know how to move like you do. I don’t know how to do anything but what I’ve always done. I don’t know…” Suddenly he looked up at you, and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sheer emotion in his eyes. “I want to dance this with you. I want to partner with you. But I can’t seem to figure out how — not because of you. Because of me.”

You were reaching before you could stop yourself and lightly rested your hand on his forearm. He didn’t startle, but he did look down at it, brow furrowed. You forced yourself to leave it there and squeezed his arm lightly. 

“Din, I…” you weren’t sure how to reassure him. You’d seen his discomfort in rehearsals and you knew this was new to him, even if he hadn’t told you so before. You decided to share your own worries instead, since he had just been so open with his own. “This is the biggest role I’ve ever gotten. I mean, you know I’ve got Hermia, and then the spring fairy in Cinderella… but I’ve never been chosen for something like this before. I’ve never had a chance like this.” He lifted his head and met your eyes again, and this time his eyes were soft. It encouraged you to continue. “And you’re so good, I’ve been so worried that I’m not…” you bit your lip and squeezed his arm again when he opened his mouth. You shook your head and he nodded, letting you continue. “That I’m not good enough. I’ve had bad reviews before and I’m not even a principal and I know there are people out there who think I’m not good enough to be one. I—”

This time, Din cut you off. “That’s absurd.” His tone was flat, like his point was so obvious he couldn’t believe he had to say it.

You blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head, his gaze dancing over your face. He covered your hand on his left arm with his right and squeezed. “Of course you deserve to be a principal. They should have already promoted you. Karga clearly wants to, anyway. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in that barely-there smile and you felt your cheeks start to heat as his praise continued. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice me watching you. It wasn’t just for our homework. You’re… amazing. I don’t know how you put so much emotion into your dancing at the same time as so much such skill and technique. Like in Midsummer, everything you bring to Hermia, it’s…” His eyes scanned your face again, and you wondered if you were gaping at him. It felt like it. “It’s so real. And connected. I feel like a robot, compared to you. I’ve been trying to find that connection for myself, but…” he trailed off again and let his hand slip from where it covered your own. You took your hand back, too.

A connection, he said. “Um, thank you. Maybe…” you started, hesitant. He looked at you again. “Maybe we can help each other. Practice together, outside of our rehearsals.”

He nodded. You nodded back, and then you both laughed, a little. You’d never seen him laugh before and couldn’t help but stare.

You felt a bit shaky after all of that honesty and decided to lighten the air a little. “Ok, well, one thing we definitely need to do is get to know each other, right? So we’re comfortable together.” He nodded, and his expression was so open you had to force yourself to keep going, rather than to simply marvel at the fact that he’d dropped his mask. For you. “So. How about we each get 10 questions, but we can pass if we need to. Ok?”

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

You shrugged. “It’s a good way to get to know someone, especially when you have to dance with someone new.”

Din nodded. “Alright. You go first.”

Over the next half hour you learned that Din’s favorite color was black (“come on, really?” “Fine, my second favorite is green.”), he hated smart technology (“I don’t want my fridge to talk to me. I want it to be a fridge.”), and his favorite ballet he’d ever been in was, surprisingly, Giselle (“it’s not in the normal repertoire there, and they didn’t like how I danced it. But I did. It was the most free I’ve ever felt on stage.”).

You wanted to ask more about why he’d left CBC, but that felt like too much for your first real conversation. You did learn, though, that he had a son.

“Grogu,” he said, “that’s his name. He’s five. He loves watching ballet.” Din smiled a little, looking off into the distance. “I don’t know if he’ll want to dance, but at least he likes watching me do it.”

You smiled. He was more open when he talked about his son, who must have been the little boy you saw him with, back in December. “Sounds like he sits through it better than my family.”

Din laughed, and shook his head. “We’ll see if it changes as he gets older.”

“Is that why you’re always in such a hurry?”

He nodded. “My friend takes care of him during the day, but I hate leaving him for so long. She lives close by so I try to go home for lunch, on the weekends, or to pick him up from school.”

That made sense. A new understanding of Din was forming in your mind — not an avoidant, aloof principal dancer, but a father who wanted to spend time with his son as much as he wanted to dance. Someone with more on his mind than fitting into this new company — you imagined the move must have been difficult on Grogu, too. 

“How’s he settling in here?”

Din looked at you, that little half smile back on his lips. “Just fine. He likes his new kindergarten, he’s made some friends. Better than I even hoped, really.”

You nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s liking it. I bet that was a difficult transition for him. And you.”

Din sighed. “A bit. But it was necessary.”

Before you could even consider asking what he meant by that, you both heard commotion in the hall. You checked the time and realized you needed to get to your next rehearsal. Din stood first and offered you his hand.

You slid your hand into his, and he squeezed it as he pulled you up. 

“This was a good idea,” he said, squeezing your hand again. “Do you think next week will go better?”

You nodded. “I think so. But do you want to meet beforehand, to talk about the choreography? Maybe figure out where we can find each other instead of missing each other.”

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

…

You felt lighter after your conversation with Din. You hadn’t solved the problem, of course, but you’d at least talked to each other. It felt like the air was clearer, now that you both knew the other was struggling in some way. Neither of you was alone in it.

Over the weekend you focused on Midsummer — it was a big deal for you, getting cast as Hermia. You were excited to dance through her turmoil. She was so torn, as a character, and you wanted to portray that on stage. 

As you prepared and stretched on Friday night, you thought about what Din had said — that he couldn’t figure out how to dance in a new way, and that he felt like a robot. You shook your head. A robot? You weren’t sure what he was feeling while he danced, but Din never looked like a robot when he was performing. He’d said, too, that he loved being in Giselle, an overall more emotional performance than much of CBC’s usual repertoire. That he’d felt free. 

You thought about his face, every time you’d seen behind the mask, and you knew he could do it. You just had to help him figure out how to find that connection again, and how to lower the mask more while he was performing.

As you stepped out on stage that night, you let that certainty ground you. As you performed your variation, you’d never felt more like you were floating.

...

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a/n: they talked!!! what do we think?

Pas de deux & partnering -- Partnering in ballet is hard! There has to be a lot of trust and communication between partners, even though you don't necessarily need to be like best friends. These two are so advanced and have been in companies for so long that they are able to jump into something like this, but they still have to establish a partnering relationship, which is tough! To give you an idea of just some of what goes into partnering, here's a video of "beginning tips" (skip to around ~12:00 for some interesting stuff on balance). Din is used to verrrrry formal partnering, and that is some of the reason for their communication issues.

Midsummer - reader is dancing the role of Hermia in A Midsummer's Night Dream, which can go to either a principal or a soloist, just depending on the company. Here's a nice overview of the two acts and the ballet from the San Francisco Ballet. Here's a video of a dancer breaking down the role. Here's a couple examples of Hermia's famous variation (solo): one, two. Hermia has other big moments in the ballet but I've mostly been mentioning reader prepping for the solo. Companies might also spread out the roles over different nights or weekends -- in this case reader has Hermia for one weekend, like Adrian has Puck for one weekend (which isn't really mentioned in the fic because I didn't think it was relevant). (Is it a little unbelievable that reader is so unsure about her possible promotion if she got this role? Maybe. Soloists could get this role, especially a first soloist!)

Spring fairy - reader is dancing the role of the spring fairy in Cinderella, too. This and Midsummer are big story ballets that would draw an audience. Here's another two performances of the spring fairy variation and all of the fairies in one video from a 2003 Royal Ballet production. Spring starts ~2:30. The wiki page has a nice overview of the numbers in each act, so you can see where the fairies come in. The wiki lists 4 acts, though, and most companies do it like ABT I think -- with 2 acts. And here's a full length recording.

Giselle - Din mentions this briefly and we'll learn more later, but here's an overview of the ballet. (it's one of my favs)

tag list coming in a reblog!

[h-170]

Cockwarming g!p kkura while she's playing a game >.< !!

the most asked fic but can never get enough of!!!1!1! 😫😭🙏

also i apologize for the cringe title but ahem i didnt have any fucking ideas... also i think it looks a bit rushed?? idk 😭

✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆

“Me or the PS5?”

g!p (sub? dom? who am i) Sakura Miyawaki x female reader

Smut (+ crumb of angst?)

Cockwarming

Making out

Marking (hickeys...)

Dirty talk

Cock riding

Mentions of pregnancy (?)

Pet names:3

why does the parrot emoji appear when i type dirty talk... oh wait its just for talk oops 🦜

✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆

"Seriously, you're starting to piss me off, Kkura."

"Look, I'm sorry, I kn-"

"I don't wanna hear it!"

Well, you were fuming. Sakura's schedule was full as always and she comes home when you're asleep; you practically never see her. Until tonight, you were somehow able to stay awake – or it's just that she came home slightly earlier – and you had to confront her about this.

"I'm tired, you know? I feel like I'm alone in this house."

"I understand, Y/N. But I can't-"

"This isn't only for me, Kkura, you're tiring yourself too! Is there really no way you can-"

"No! Okay? I can't! It's how my schedule is, being an idol isn't easy!"

Her sudden outburst made you feel guilty. It's true, you were kind of selfish and wanted her all to yourself- but wait, were you selfish? You weren't seeing her at all! However, you were also looking after her, so...

You both sigh, Sakura rubbing her temples. She was tired, like you, and you had to do something about it.

"Can we... Just go to sleep? I'm tired."

You unclench your fists and nod quietly, both of you heading upstairs.

Days pass and you never really spoke about the situation anymore since Sakura's outburst was the thing that shut you up. But then one afternoon, you come back from the grocery store and enter the house to sound...? Faint music?

You slowly make your way upstairs and-

"Wha..."

Sakura, right there, on your bed, playing a game with a PS5 controller in her hands.

"Kkura?"

"Oh, hey, baby."

"Why are you home so early?"

Sakura explains that she took what you said about tiring herself out into consideration and decided to ask for a day or two off, which actually made you quite surprised.

"...so... You took days off to game?"

Sakura laughs.

"You weren't home, so, heh- I was just enjoying myself."

"Since you're here, can we cuddle, please? I missed you so much."

Sakura smiles guiltily.

"Can I... Finish this round first...?

You climb on the bed and smack her shoulder.

"Are you serious?! Sakura! Come on!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just... Please, I'm so close."

"Close to what?!"

"Finishing!"

You look at the screen, and she's at the second phase of some boss fight. You look back at your focused girlfriend, pouting.

"So it's the PS5 you're choosing over me?"

"Love, don't be like that... I'll do whatever you want after this, promise."

You smirk.

"You know, cuddles can wait, but... I kinda wanna punish you."

"Uh... Huh?"

"How 'bout you finish that game while I make you finish inside me?"

As the boss does some long animation for a super attack, Sakura looks at you, her cheeks flushed as you pull down her pants and boxers in one go.

"You're not gonna give me head while playing, right? You're not that evil..."

She gulps, preparing herself as the animation is almost over, no longer looking at you.

"Nah, I'm planning on doing something much worse."

That made Sakura's mind 'unfocus' and she barely dodges the attack, making her heart skip a beat at the fear of almost losing to that. While she was panicking, you were already undressed, sitting on her cock and taking it all at once.

"Fuck- Y/N! You-"

"Shhh, don't focus on me now, or you might lose~"

Sakura groans, tilting her head to the side as she wraps her arms around you, controller on your back as you hug her. Your hands slide inside her oversized shirt, roaming on her creamy back, making her shiver because they were cold.

Your lips find their way on her neck, kissing the warm skin. Sakura's mouth being next to your ear made you hear every single breath and whimper and gasp and moan, literally any sound she made.

"Y/N- Since when did you become so tight?"

"That's because you aren't fucking me so often."

As the third phase begins, you hear Sakura moan as you suck a hickey on her neck then she giggles.

"So you're saying you want me to fuck you more?"

You clench around her cock at her words, smirking as you lick the mark you just gave her. You definitely missed feeling her cock hitting you deep inside your pussy, and the memories coming back to you made you feel all hot and sweaty.

"Maybe~"

You plant a kiss on her cheek, teasingly clenching around her dick. She was so focused on her game, it made you wonder how she didn't just throw her controller and started fucking you yet. She must really like her game...

Your hands snake up to her chest, and since she wasn't wearing a bra, it just made the whole thing much easier for you. You squeeze her breasts, rolling her nipples between your fingers. You just do that for a few moments, hearing Sakura moan and squirm underneath you. And then, a cutscene comes up.

"Your lips look so dry, baby."

"So?"

"How about I take care of them for you, mm?"

And with that, you pull her in a deep kiss, to which she surprisingly doesn't hesitate. Controller in one hand, she runs her second one down to your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as she lifts you up maybe like one millimeter, then back down, as if telling you to fuck yourself on her dick. But you don't, kissing her even harder now.

"That desperate?"

"Fuck you."

It was now her turn to squeeze your breasts, taking one in hand but having difficulties to squeeze it correctly because of your bra. Unfortunately, she couldn't remove it as she couldn't risk both her hands being busy.

It was kinda funny if you think about it; both of you are just making out while you grind on her cock with random people talking in the background because of Sakura's game.

Sakura now runs her hand on your back, pulling you closer to her body as she feels you clench and clench around her nonstop. You could feel her smirk against your lips, and you couldn't help but smirk back.

It was true she might lose this game because of you, but... She would enjoy the way you're making her lose.

"You're always unsatisfied, Y/N."

"Can you blame me?"

She scoffs and thrusts upwards, making you gasp and tighten your grip around her. The cutscene was finally over so the game gained her focus again, leaving you breathless and dangerously close to cumming. You could tell she was also close by how big her cock became.

"K-Kku...~"

"Ngh- Just a second..."

"Please... Please, let me...~"

Your needy and hot voice in her ear made her gush out more precum inside you that you can assume she already came, but she didn't. All you could hear were your joint heartbeats, heavy breathing, soft moans and game sound effects.

"Sakura-"

"Y/N, just a minute."

"Please, so close~"

"Fuck, Y/N..."

"Cum inside me..."

Sakura's sick throbbed at that, and you moan at the feeling.

"Please... Please, just lose, I'll help you beat that level, you know I'm good at it..."

Well, it wasn't a lie, but Sakura stays stubborn. You jolt your hips forward, making Sakura moan.

"Damnit! Y/N, I-"

"Please, I'm a good girl...~"

You kept begging, but she wasn't listening. Just ignoring you seemed like a good plan to her, but little did you know it was so hard to ignore you.

You gave up, honestly. You knew how Sakura was with her games.

"You're really making me wait..."

"I'm gonna beat it."

"I told you I'd help you, I just wanna cum..."

"I know you don't like the game, that's why I'm beating it now."

You pause to process her words, blushing slightly. Did Sakura really just make you wait for that? Well, it was sweet, you had to say that.

And then, what seemed like an eternity, she beat the game, a golden 'Victory' appearing on the screen. Quickly, she goes back to the main menu and tosses the controller on the other side of the bed, holding your hips and slamming you down on her cock.

"Aaah~! Fuck! You could've warned me!"

"Sorry, princess, but I'm getting damn impatient here~"

Your whole body was bouncing; head, breasts, ass... The perfect view for Sakura. She loved seeing you go wild on her cock.

"So, you wanna cum, huh? Cum for me, baby."

"C-Cum inside me, please, please..."

"Aww, missed my cum? Don't worry, pretty, I'm gonna fill you up good."

Continuing her assault on your pussy, she forces your upper body down to give you a hickey as she starts grinding you back and forth on her length.

"There, we're equal now~"

You'd smile, embarrassed, meeting her lips in another heated kiss. Hands everywhere, she smacks your ass twice, full palms on cheeks, causing loud slapping sounds to echo in the room. Gosh, you loved that.

Your tongues were wrapped around one another, your lips red and sore as you continue your make out session.

"I... I c-can't take anymore~"

"Mm? Okay~"

She breaks the kiss and starts fucking you again – well, forcing you to ride her cock, actually – feeling your cunt tighten and soak her dick.

"I'm gonna fill you up real good."

She looks deep into your eyes.

"Gonna let you have my kids, how 'bout that?"

"Fuck, Kkura, give them to me!"

With one last thrust, she makes you sit on her lap, balls deep inside you as she explodes, releasing all her cum in your cunt. You cum around her, soaking her lap and dick, both of you moaning so loud, your voice cracking like crazy.

You collapse on top of her as she lays down on her back, her cock slipping out of you because you were so damn wet. She chuckles.

"Like the background music? It's really romantic, mm?"

The 'action' hype music along with her sarcasm makes you chuckle in turn.

"Definitely."

✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆☾ ✩₊˚.⋆

me and the PS5 least you know where I'ma be at night 🗣️

[wholelottaprompts]

ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩

from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter

"And I still make excuses for you constantly."

"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"

"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."

"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."

"Whatever, you're a waste of time."

"I can't myself when you get close to me."

“Oh, so you do have a type."

"Where else can we go?"

"I hate the way you left me dry."

"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."

"Don't say sorry now."

"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."

"I tried to look for the best in the worst."

"Oh, so you can reply."

"I'm so tired."

"You want me? I'm done."

"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."

"You're lucky I'm a private person."

"I'm over that son of a bitch."

"Don't make me cuss you out."

"You're so vicious."

"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."

"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"

"I can't help it, it's a habit."

"You act like a bitch."

"I never saw him and we never kissed."

"There's nothing left here to decode."

"Were you lying to me and the family?"

"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."

"You don't feel remorse."

"That never made too much sense to me."

"I can't read your mind."

"Why'd you let me down?"

"You knew I would see that."

"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."

"Bet you wanna love me now."

"How do you do this to me?"

"Tell me what's gonna happen."

"You knew I would notice."

"I'll drive you home."

"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."

"I want you there sometimes."

"She looks nothing like me."

"Your signals are mixed."

"Everything reminds me of you."

"I know you know it keeps me up."

"You drive me crazy."

"Chase me."

"Did you even give a fuck?"

"You disgust me."

"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."

"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."

"Why do you look so happy?"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks to you, I can't love right."

"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."

"You fit every stereotype."

"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"

"Now I can't even look at you."

"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."

"I know what you're about to say."

"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"

"He had it coming."

"I deserve my own consideration."

"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."

"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."

"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."

"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"

"All my friends think I've gone crazy."

"I care, but I don't."

"Please fucking fix this."

"Tell me that you miss me in your life."

"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."

"You were all I looked up to."

"Was I being lied to?"

"I got ways to find you anywhere."

"You miss me? No duh."

"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."

"It was all so innocent."

"What the fuck is patience?"

"I can't even stomach loving someone else."

"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."

"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."

"I bet your house is where my other sock is."

[spikyiwaizumi]

It’s a perfect morning for a hike.

The chill dusts Yaku’s nose as a soft winter kiss, his hot breathing tearing up his throat as he pushed onwards.

His thighs strain with pleasant effort, the slope harsh and unforgiving under his well broken-in boots, a stone breaking free of the thin, frozen layer of snow to bounce down behind him. They're all familiar sensations, worn into his skin almost as deeply as the court.

With one difference.

A gasp heaves behind Yaku. He turns back to his companion, who is bent over, hands on his knees.

“Wow, you really have left yourself go, huh?”

“Shut —“ here one of Kuroo’s hands lifts weakly, flagging his words. “— the fuck —“

“I’m waiting.”

“Up.”

The last line is delivered with a laboured expulsion of breath. Kuroo’s hand drops back to his knee, his gulping of air audible to even where Yaku is standing. He grins.

Kuroo had always been a single step faster than him in high school, and even in the early years of university he could hold his own; it’s nice to get the upper hand for once.

Yet something needles at Yaku; a slight twinge in his knee. A reminder that he, too, is getting older.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo continues, straightening up. “That I can’t keep up with an Olympian while having an actual career.”

An actual career, huh?

Kuroo probably hadn’t meant it like that, but Yaku becomes aware of a pit in his gut, one that had been growing since he hit thirty. It seemed to swallow good moments with the overwhelming knowledge of time, and Yaku hadn’t adjusted to it yet.

“Your career is literally making my career a viable thing.”

“Semantics.”

"I don't think you know what that word means."

"I don't think you know either."

Yaku flips up his middle finger at him, and Kuroo cracks a grin, trudging up alongside Yaku.

“I’m good to go for a while longer.”

“I can carry you, if you’d like.”

The answering glare that Kuroo gives him makes Yaku grin again, the movement of his cheeks feeling welcome, as if dislodging a layer of frost.

The camera shutter noise rings out alone in the deserted, slumbering mountains.

“Shame Kai couldn’t see this,” Yaku mentions as he sends the photo to him.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s devastated,” Kuroo says. “Being flown in to Australia to consult on Japanese flora there instead of waking up at an obscene hour for a hike must be so awful for him.”

“His girlfriend got a ticket too, didn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “Well, fiancé now. He had a plus one, and I can't believe that he brought his fiancé instead of say, one of his best friends of…”

He scrunches his brows, hesitating. Yaku wants to laugh.

“Don’t strain your—“

“Eighteen years!”

“There you go,” Yaku says encouragingly, and Kuroo shoots him a death glare.

“Don’t pretend that you were any better at me at math.”

Sticking out his tongue, Yaku winks at him. "At least I'm not the one who called Akaashi at two in the morning, crying over his project finance homework."

"He told you that?! And I wasn't crying, just on the verge of tears -"

"Like that's any better."

It works, as it always had. Kuroo doesn't notice Yaku speeding up, doesn't notice how they move faster when sunk into arguing. Maybe he does, and chooses to say nothing.

The sunrise is a haze of orange and pink, and Yaku thinks that it looks beautiful. It shines against the snow-patched hillsides, throwing up brilliant glares as it spreads across the mountains, claiming them for the morning. Here and there, a grey cluster of rocks emerge from the snow, as if waking up.

He glances across at Kuroo. Kuroo, who had agreed to take a day off of the work he loved so dearly to join Yaku at ass o’clock in the morning to clamber up a mountain to catch a sunrise.

He’d sounded tired on the phone when Yaku had called, just at the end of his workday, just long enough for Kuroo to run into his boss’ office and tell him that he needed the day tomorrow — yes, he apologised for the short notice, yes, he had everything in order — and then returning to Yaku to curse him out for forcing him to do that.

Yaku had asked why he wasn’t the boss yet, how come his career was flatlining, and Kuroo’s swearing at him had increased at a rate Yaku hadn’t thought possible before.

Yet he’s here.

“I missed this,” Yaku says.

“Yeah,” Kuroo agrees. His tone is a little wistful, softened by the sight in front of them. “I can’t remember the last time I went hiking.”

He's here, with his hands set on his hips, his chest driving out with each hard breath. There's unmistakable satisfaction in the curl of his lips.

“Better than lazing about on the beach, huh?” Yaku comments, moving closer to elbow Kuroo in the side. “Glad to hear you’ve seen the light.”

“Hey, that was not me saying that mountains are better.”

“Not yet.”

Yaku grins up at him, and he sees the edges of Kuroo’s lips curve upwards in response, despite trying to cling onto the mask of annoyance. His gaze wanders upwards, over Kuroo’s rough cheeks, a day’s worth of black stubble sprouting up, to the almost invisible scar on his cheekbone left from one of Fukunaga’s “inventions,” to rest on the grey bags beneath his eyes.

Cradled in the delicate glow of the sunrise, Tetsurou feels familiar and strange, all at once.

The pit stretches its muscles inside Yaku’s gut again, the pit that consumes his friends’ lives and leaves men in their places that Yaku only half-knows. His absence had been a choice.

He doesn’t regret it, but he acknowledges the painful consequences.

Swallowing, he turns back to the sunrise, and thinks he feels a wave of warmth from it. Kuroo is still a bachelor. Yaku has waited over a decade, expecting him to be one of those consequences, one that he paid the moment he chose to pursue volleyball professionally. He wets his dry, cracked lips, and glances up at Kuroo again.

Kuroo’s face is awash with an orange tint, and there are folds Yaku doesn’t recognise, smile lines faded into his skin, his bone structure just a fraction more prominent than before. Yaku wants to relearn all of it — maybe even better than before. His eyes are creased up in the way they always did when he was considering something; his tongue working within his mouth.

“I’d have brought you here sooner if I knew this is what made you speechless,” he says, and Kuroo’s removed, thoughtful expression vanishes. It's replaced by a flicker of a fondness, a momentary splinter before his usual laid-back expression settles in.

Instead of a snarky retort, Kuroo only leans his forearm on Yaku’s shoulder. He's heavy. Yaku can feel his body heat, revved up from the walk, radiating against his side.

“You’d get bored without my quick wit,” Kuroo proclaims. “We can't ever go to a mountain peak at sunrise again. Only beaches from now on, I think.”

He flashes a smile down at Yaku, and Yaku, after climbing up a tough trail for two hours, now, only now, feels woozy. He wasn’t a stranger to how Kuroo makes him feel. He’d been ignoring it for years.

Consequences.

Yaku looks down at Kuroo’s hand, jutting past his shoulder, dangling in the air. He’d stripped off his gloves at some point during their hike, and the tips of his fingers are tinged with a dusty pink, just visible through the brown. They’re lined. Yaku thinks of Kuroo telling him how his last relationship didn’t work out, that they wanted different things.

For the first time in a long time, Yaku stares at a Japanese sunrise and thinks of coming home.

Bending his elbow, he reaches up and takes Kuroo’s warm hand in his, interlacing their fingers. Beside him, Kuroo shifts his weight; taking more off of Yaku.

One last time, Yaku upturns his face to meet Kuroo’s gaze. His whole body is buzzing with the risk he’d just taken, but Kuroo’s steady eye contact grounds him; reminds him that they’d be alright, no matter what.

He inhales the crisp air, tasting a new day.

Waits.

“You’re serious?”

Kuroo’s voice is low, stripped of all and any teasing edge.

Yaku nods.

“I’m serious.”

[sugurusfavemonkey]

A Helping Hand (Part 2) read part 1 here summary: after a long winding wait you and Gojo finally take your relationship to bed the next level. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader word count: 4.2k warnings: MDNI; fluff and love confessions, cursing, oral (female receiving), creampie (this is a work of fiction, wrap it before you tap it irl!); rough s&x; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings.

a/n: I lied, put your clothes back on... we're going on a fluff ride (roughly 1.5k words) before the sexy bits make an appearance (the other 2.7k), because, apparently, I cannot control myself once I start writing.

Unfortunately for you and Gojo, things did NOT progress as expected that night.

Tsumiki insisted they should help you with the cleaning after dinner and dessert and then launched into animated retelling of the debate club happening earlier that day as she dutifully dried the dishes you handed her.

It was many hours later before the kids finally went to their beds.

You put both of them to bed with a forehead kiss - the embarrassed blush on Megumi's cheeks never failing in making you chuckle - and  you were exhausted by then, hand covering a big yawn that had Satoru laughing.

He threw his arm over your shoulders, using the leverage to pull you away from the kids' bedroom as he closed the door behind you with his free hand.

"Tired?" 

"Completely wiped." you admitted, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, the realization of just how well you fit under his arm making you giddy "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just wanted to have a wild first night with my new boyfriend, but I don't think I could even fathom the idea of keeping up with his stamina right now."

"This boyfriend of yours sounds like a dream."

"Except when he's being a self-centered dimwit." 

You tried to untangle yourself from under his arm, but Satoru had a different idea. He bent his knees until he could reach with his free arm underneath your knees and picked you up before you had time to protest, a yelp of surprise the only noise you managed to release as your own arms found support around his neck, and adjusted the arm around your shoulders to better support you on his hold. 

"I'm sure he has good reason to think so highly of himself." Satoru spoke as he rearranged his hold to support your weight in one arm, allowing himself to open the door to the other bedroom. 

"Stop praising yourself, Gojo." You chastised as he kicked the door shut as soon as you crossed the threshold.

"Nuh-uh. That's Satoru to you. We went over that already." 

"Not when you're being insufferable, no." Your words were barely discernible through the yawn you let out as you let yourself relax against him. 

"Hmm. Let's get you to bed, sweets."

"Yeah? You gonna do unspeakable things to me in the master bedroom, Gojo?" Your words were slurred, breath fanning teasingly against his neck, eyelids heavy with sleep.

"It's Satoru," he insisted, "and no. Not tonight. Even though I'd like nothing else than taking you, you're so sleepy you sound drunk right now."

"Look at you being all gentlemanly. I though Nanami was the last one left of those." 

"Why are you bringing up Nanamin when we're talking about sex?!"

"You jealous?" you hummed, eyes already closed.

"Pfff! As if I had any reason to be jealous of that nerdy emo."

"I don't know... I think he has his charms." Satoru unceremoniously dropped you on the bed just you you finished uttering those words. "Ah!"

"That's for talking about other men in my presence."

"Oh my god, Satoru! Are you really going to be that much of a possessive boyfriend?" 

"Too late to back off now, sweets." He playfully stated, leaning over you before dropping to the other side of the bed and making you bounce on the mattress again.

You turned your head, staring at his annoyingly perfect side profile.

"Why do you always call me that?" Satoru has always used that pet name when referring to you and though you always wondered the nickname's origins that was the first time you proffered the question aloud. 

"You know how much I love my sweets."

"Who would have thought you could be so corny? I'm serious, Satoru."

"So am I," he turned his head to face you as well, "I think I've loved from the moment we've met." his small confession has your heart stuttering in your chest.

"Now, that just can't be true. If I remember correctly, you called me weak and said I'd never be able to keep up with you and Su-" you cut yourself off before you said something that would potentially strike a sour note. 

Still, you weren't fast enough. You saw the moment Satoru's face fell, his expression becoming somber. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well... everyone is weak compared to me."

You sighed bitterly, annoyed at yourself for spoiling the moment.

"I shouldn't ha-"

"You're not-"

The both of you started at the same time, pausing once you realized the other was also talking. Satoru was the one to break the tense silence following the sudden standstill: 

"I was wrong. You're not weak. You never were." his voice was quiet, serious. So different to his usual laidback disposition.

"I mean, I'll never really get anywhere near your level."

"Still. You're strong. You're efficient and resourceful. And you care. You care so much sometimes I'm scared you'll wear yourself thin. Just like- just like him." Somehow you knew he wasn't just talking about your prowess as a sorcerer.

"Satoru. Baby. Look at me." You pleaded, turning your entire body this time and tenderly grasping his chin, coaxed him into looking your way once more.

"I'm not leaving." You stared intently into his impossibly blue eyes as you made the vow. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

His hand found yours on his face and gently entwined your fingers before guiding them to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You're not sure if he ever said anything in reply because you soon doze off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Satoru was no longer in bed with you when you woke up the next morning to a chime on your phone.

You sighed and sprawled onto your back, hand skimming over your face to find creases in the shape of the ruffled pillowcase and a bit of dried drool at the corner of your lips before finally picking up the offending gadget to 4 new messages from one strongest hoe🫸🟣:

Leave it to Satoru to make you go from embarrassed to delighted in less than a minute.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful you weren't summoned for anything. You were suspicious it had something to do with Gojo, he probably took on more curses just to spare you. It would explain the two whole days of a job when he usually handled curses in less than a minute.

Sunday came around and Satoru called you by noon, letting you know he threatened the elders into leaving the two of you free at least up until Monday and asked Shoko to watch over the kids for the night.

"Huh. This damn curse is tougher than I thought. Gotta go finish the job. See ya tonight. Love ya, sweets!" He ended the call before you even processed his words, your heart skipping a beat.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You had left Tsumiki and Megumi back at the apartment in Saitama with Shoko and went back to your own home in Tokyo to get ready for your first date with Satoru a few hours before.

The clock had just hit 7pm and you were anxiously pacing the living room back and forth when there was a knock to your door.

"I love you." You snapped as soon as you opened the door for him.

"That would have been awkward if it wasn't me. What happened to hello?" Satoru laughed extending the bouquet of red roses in his hands to you.

"You fucking hung up on me before I could say it back and this has been hammering in my head ever since." you explained with a small shrug, cheeks going warm in spite of your attempt at nonchalance as you took the offered flowers to arrange them in a vase.

Satoru waited until you put the arrangement on the center of your dinning room table before his hands found your waist and he glued his chest you back.

"Say that again." his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his warm breath causing a shiver to go down your spine, your hands finding support on the table when your legs went weak.

"Say what exactly?"

"Don't tease me, sweets." His warm lips leisurely glided down, purposefully leaving butterfly kisses to the column of your throat. You gasped, head falling back against his shoulder leaving your neck open to his relentless assault.

"I l-love you, Satoru." You mumbled brokenly.

His grasp on your waist went impossibly tight, his breath stuttering and a low groan erupting from his chest.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweets."

He sounded absolutely wrecked and the knowledge that you were the one causing Gojo Satoru to lose his cool made you throw you caution to the wind. You push your hips back against him and, sure enough, you can feel his hardness pressing into you.

"Hmm. I think I may have an idea." You crooned teasingly

"Brat!" He reward your taunt with a bite to the junction of your shoulder to your neck, immediately followed by his tongue lapping away at the harsh sting. "Have I mentioned how fucking stunning you look right now? I mean, you're always hot, but this look... I just wanna bend you over and fuck you right on this table."

"And what's stopping you?"

"I don't know, maybe the reservation I made for our dinner in 30 minutes." Even though Satoru tried to stop your advances, the way his hips kept lazily rocking against yours sent a different message. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume you sprayed just for him and mumbling something about how you smell good enough to eat under his breath.

"I can't think of a lot of things we can accomplish in 30 minutes."

"Ugh! You'll be the death of me. I'm trying to be responsible for once here!" He nearly whined.

You turned around in his grasp and had to crane your head to look into his eyes with the way he looms over you "Gojo. I don't need a fancy restaurant date. I think we're way past that anyway. I just need you."

He seemed conflicted, eyes searching yours through the dark sunglasses still perched to his nose.

"Please."

"Fuck it." Your last plea was all it took to break his resolve.

In a flash, Satoru had hoisted you up and sat you at the edge of the table, slotting himself in in between your parted legs and lips taking yours possessively, his tongue shoving itself into your mouth, savoring your taste. You opened up for him readily. His hands were wandering all over you, grabbing you like he owns you.

When you finally did part ways, you felt his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip and staring at the glistening skin in a daze for a moment before his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

"I wanna taste you. Will you let me taste you, sweets?" Satoru's hands found and toyed with the button to your pants, eyes begging silently for your assent.

You nodded mutely, throat suddenly dry.

The green light you gave was all the encouragement he needed to drop to his knees, finger dexterously popping open the button and sliding down the zipper before nearly pawing the offending piece of clothing down your legs. Satoru didn't have the patience to remove your boots, so the cloth remained bunched up at your ankles. He nibbled at the skin of your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where you needed him the most.

"'toru!" You whined, letting yourself fall back against the table, head knocking loudly against the wood.

"What is it, sweets? What do you want."

"Touch me!"

"But I am touching you."

"You little- Aw!" You complained when he bit into your thigh as a warning, head lifting from the table to glare half-heartedly at the man in between your thighs.

"Watch it." Satoru alerted, a dangerous glint on his electric blue eyes.

"Ugh. Fine." You relented, not wanting to test him that night. You'd have plenty of time for that on other occasion. "Touch my pussy, Satoru."

"Have you no manners?" He rested his cheek against your thigh, his earlier rush hidden beneath his commitment to have you begging for him.

"Pleas- Oh my god!" You bellowed when he finally dove in, practically french kissing your pussy. His tongue easily found your clit, making random shapes against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

He moaned loudly and shamelessly when your hand found purchase on his soft white hair, encouraging you to pull harder as his own fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs.

Satoru let go of your hips to hitch your legs up, spread your thighs wider and then one of his hands roamed down until he's brushing your entrance, whining pathetically at the slick that gathered on the finger prodding at your hole. The muscles on your thighs tightened in response and you forced yourself up on your elbows so you could take the delicious show playing out down there.

His free hand reached underneath your sweater, slowly gliding upwards, finger teasing the edge of your bra while his mouth changed its path and traveled up and under your sweater, kissing, licking, nibbling at the skin of your tummy and ribs. The comical sight of his head disappearing beneath the warm fabric had a giggle bubbling up at his silliness, but the feeling of the pad of his thumb striking wet and sticky across your clit draws out a sound deep from your chest instead, something sweet and guttural that made Satoru wish he could record to hear over and over again.

Gojo pulled your bra down and didn't waste a second before taking one of your nipples in his warm mouth.

You were squirming as he pressed down on your clit just hard enough. A cry left your lips as the fingers of his other hand pinched your nipple.

His actions made it seem as if he's not sure where to touch first, like a man starved, Satoru needs to feel all of you. Without warning, both hands found the edge of your sweater pulling it up and off you.

"You're so hot." Satoru sounded winded, wide eyes traveling all over your body in awe.

"Toru. I need you, please." You begged, still supporting yourself on your elbows, but you felt like they might give out at any minute with how weak the man made you.

Satoru smirked deviously and you nearly regretted pleading with him, knowing he was scheming something.

"I Got you, sweets" was all he said before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hand smacking your ass with a resounding slap sound. Your shriek only making him laugh. "Let's move this to bed so I can fuck you into the mattress."

Soon you joined in on his laughter even as he jolts you around. Just as it has always been, Satoru has a way of making any moment with you lighter.

When you reached your bedroom he thoughtfully places you on the mattress, kneeling by the bed to help you with your boots and finally remove the pants and underwear that has still been stuck at your ankles.

Once you were completely bare you expected him to do the same, instead he passed you by and sat down against the headboard, patting his lap excitedly when you twist around to follow his movements.

"You're still too dressed, Toru." You frowned.

"Yeah, and? Come here before I make you, brat."

Even though you were unsure of what he had planned, you trusted Satoru enough to do as he told you to. You got up and walked around the bed, slightly sheepish at your stated of undress, but the astonished look on his face gave you enough confidence to move forward.

You went to sit on his lap, but Gojo is faster, hands picking you up by your waist and setting you down, knees on each side of his legs, so you have no choice but to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.

Satoru hummed in delight as he pushed you back and forth until you got the idea. You braced your hands against his chest, your hips taking up the rocking against his hard length through his dress pants, your bare slit dripping all over his bulge.

“That’s it, sweets,” Satoru grunted, eyes hungrily following your movement “Get yourself nice and wet and ready for me. Rub your sweet little cunt all over my cock.” At his urging, you rolled your hips harder, eyes falling closed as you took your pleasure from his body.  

Your knees spread even further so you could press down on him harder, your slick staining his pants.

When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru's blue stare already on you, an overjoyed smile etched onto his face.

"I'm gonna fuck you so deep you're gonna be feeling me for weeks."

You moaned at the dark promise, unconsciously speeding up your hips as your hands grasped the lapels of his shirt in tight fists.

"Does the thought turn you on, sweets?" His hips thrust up from below, forcing another moan from your lips.

“Oh god,” you moaned, letting your head loll back. But Satoru wasn’t having none of that. He brought his hand to your throat, tugging your head until you had no choice but to meet his blazing gaze.

"Hmmm... I wanna feel you, Toru." You sobbed, desperate for more. “I need it—I need you, please.”

In an instant, Satoru had pushed you onto your back, one of his hands pinning you to the bed by your throat as he forcefully snapped his hips against yours.

You reached up, yanking at the buttons of his shirt and pulling it free from his slacks with a hushed demand "off."

"I should have know you would be bossy even when underneath me." He chuckled, letting go of you momentarily to shrug off the shirt. Meanwhile, you went for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling it before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper on his pants down. "Eager much?"

"Satoru. We've been dancing around each other for years, you can't blame me for being impatient now."

"Trust me. I get it." He licked his lips, eyes damn near burning a path through your skin as his gaze travelled your form. "You have no idea how many times I've pictured you just like that, naked and wet for me."

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him bare. You watched intently as he hastily stood up to kick off his shoes before pushing his pants, underwear and socks down and throwing it all behind himself. Revealing corded thighs and a magnificent long, twitching cock, so big you were glad you were wet and ready for him.

A soft smirk played on your lips as he leaned over you, one knee between your legs, arms caging you in against the comforter.

He gripped his cock and rubbed the bulbous tip up and down your slit, teasing your clit and making you whimper. You rocked your hips up against his dick, trying to find the angle to take him inside you. When that didn’t work, you resorted to begging, whimpering, “I'm so empty. I need you inside me, please Toru."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up sweets?"

You nodded, tangling your legs behind him and attempting to draw him in. For once in your life, you cursed his superior strength, because he sure was having a great time making you desperate for his cock.

“Toru,” you cried on a gasp, your arms around his neck trying to pull him closer, trying to bury yourself inside his rib cage alongside his heart. "Please!”

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Satoru captured your lips, pouring his passion and desire for you into a searing kiss. As his lips slid against yours, he pressed the tip against your entrance. 

He drank down your sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside you, inch by inch. You broke away with a gasp when it became too much.

"You're taking me so well, sweets." He mumbled almost incoherently.

Brows knitted and thighs trembling, your eyes didn’t leave his as you basked in the shattering, yet sublimely pleasurable sensation, slowly allowing yourself to relax around him.

Gentle caresses to your tight nub made you feel like the smallest push could tip you over edge and into ecstasy. Tight circles that didn't relent until he could bury himself inside you entirely, the air getting punched out of your lungs.

"Fuck. So tight for me." Satoru remarked with a low moan at the feeling of your walls firmly hugging his dick. "You good?" He checked when you didn't say anything.

"Y-yeah. You can move."

It started off slow but worked up to a gentle but intense rhythm soon enough.

"You feel so fucking good." Satoru praised, one hand moving to hold onto your wrists and push them together against the bed above your head.

"Satoru. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Don't worry." He rasped, "I don't plan to stop any time soon." timing the words with each frantic drive of his hips, gradually picking up speed until you felt his heavy sack slapped feverishly against you.

His girth stretched you out and filled you to the brink with each hard stroke until there were tears trickling down your cheeks.

"You crying?" Satoru quipped, peering down at you with a smirk.

You swore you would have slapped him if your hands weren't being held down by the very man torturing you with pleasure. You couldn't even respond, only unintelligible garble spilling past your lips.

"What? Have a fucked you dumb, sweets?"

Instead of allowing you time to recoup, Satoru gave into whatever restraint had been holding him back and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth, thrusting with abandon. He just kept going until your moans turned into cries, the lewd and sloppy sonance of your coupling reverberating throughout the otherwise quiet room. His free hand rubbing at your clit and, too fast for your liking, sending your body straight to cloud nine. 

Satoru let his forehead rest against yours, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours while he rutted into your body.

The pleasure you felt so grand it had you trying to scoot away, but Satoru was unwavering in his foraging, "Nuh-uh, come back here." he mumbled dropping kiss after kiss to your lips.

"I-I can't. It's too much. Too bi-big!"

"You can do it, sweets. You're doing so-" He moaned, "good. You can give me one more. C'mon."

The grasp keeping your hands in place relented as his fingers extended, entwining with yours and making the experience that much more meaningful.

Your free hand went straight to his back, nails finding residence sliding down his back, a move which rewarded you with a hiss from the white haired sorcerer. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs helped you meet him thrust for thrust, the two of you writhing together in a frenzy.

He looked at you like you were something meant to be cherished, his lips finding yours with wordless devotion, his tongue slipping into your mouth to slide against yours decadently, making your body thrum with pleasure.

It wasn't long before your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more as you fell over the edge, white heat running through your veins and stars exploding in your vision. Satoru let go once he felt your walls fluttering widely against his cock and buried himself inside with a final thrust forward, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he traded the firm motions of his thumb with a gentle bit of contact and, finally, halting it all to a complete standstill.

He fell forward, but still made sure not to completely smash you in a sweaty and jumbled pile. Your thighs were still quivering when Satoru slid out of you and turned the both of you around so you lied on top of him, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back soothingly.

"Holy fuck." it's all you can say at first.

"Second that."

And then you're both laughing breathlessly, because there's so much love and happiness and oxytocin laden in that moment that you just feel high on it.

"I can't believe we haven't done this before." Satoru chortled, dropping a tender kiss to your head. "How am I suppose to get anything done now?"

"Get your head out of the gutter!" You chastised half-heatedly "I need some time to recover in between sessions. Speaking of which... I'm kinda hungry right now. Is it too late for that reservation now?"

"By nearly two hours, I'd say."

"Whatever. We can just order in."

a/n: this was much harder than I thought it would be to write. How do smut writers do it regularly??

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Pt 2. Of my one shot (will be posted as one big post on ao3)

Thank you for all the support! It's getting me through a tough time I'm going through rn in my travels. I had a short oneshot in mind like 1000 words but I think I'm gonna fluff it out.

-----

So it keeps...happening.

Eddie gets up, walks to the door, Steve's on the other side.

He pushes past Eddie and heads to his room.

Falls fast asleep.

He hasn't even been drunk the past two times.

This time is a little different.

Eddie's been sleeping next to him of course. How could he pass up the opportunity for something he's been dreaming about for years months weeks.

He can tell Steve's faking being asleep. He's breathing lighter, not the chainsaw snoring Eddie's grown used to. He's spread out like a starfish and Eddie is stiff on the edge of the bed. His face turned towards Steve, he can't resist staring at him.

Steve's eyelids flutter and Eddie's mind races with possibilities. Is he dreaming? Still awake? What's going on?

"Will you shut up and get over here," Steve mutters.

Is he talking in his sleep?

"Eddie." He opens one eye. "Get over here."

What the fuck.

He doesn't even have a second to panic before Steve reaches over and grabs him, successfully rolling him over into his arms.

"Finally." He nestles his face into Eddie's hair. "Give me a copy of your key I'm tired of waiting for you."

Eddie chokes.

"Steve." He strains. "What're you doing."

"Isn't it obvious? Sleeping."

----

Steve's a sweaty sleeper.

Eddie only knows because he wakes with his face in his BARE chest.

Yes he's been sleeping better since this started but at some point Steve's gonna have to give him an actual explanation.

How does he get out of this one? It's his trailer he can't exactly walk of shame it.

Steve's starting to wake up. He sniffles a bit and squeezes Eddie before letting go.

"Mornin." He rolls Eddie off and gets up.

"I'm going to work. Give me the key later."

....ok?!?!?! Eddie's sure he looks completely flabbergasted.

"Bye."

Eddie's watches him as he walks out.

Well...he's just gonna follow him. He needs answers. It's not like he hasn't been trying!

-----

"Ok!" He screams as he throws open the doors to family video. "I want answers!"

Robin looks at him in shock while Steve looks bored.

"What's this about?" Robin asks.

"Probably about us sleeping together." Steve says, bored.

"I'm...sorry...what's this?" Robin looks shocked.

"You know, that I've been sleeping with Eddie."

Robin whips to look at Eddie who doesn't look much better. They both are speechless, eyes wide, mouths open.

"No I do not know!"

"I'm restocking!" Steve yells as he walks past them into the back.

As soon as he's gone Robin stomps over to Eddie and punches him in the arm.

"OW!"

"What the hell doofus! You're sleeping with him? Why wouldn't you guys tell me! When was Steve even gay? I mean I know that- nevermind that's not important. You're dating!?!"

"No! I don't know!"

"How do you not know?!"

"We're not sleeping together! We're literally just sleeping in the same bed. We're...sleeping...together?"

Robin squints at him.

"You." She pushes a finger into his chest. "You better figure this out."

"Talk. To. Him." She jabs her finger into his chest between words.

----

Comment your thoughts! Comment your feelings! Comment!

I know it seems basic but I kinda had the thought of "what is Steve just took over the trailer because he needed to sleep without nightmares and then just never left"

More of this and my other oneshots coming soon!

I'll also be working on uploading everything I've ever written to my ao3 which is pinned on my profile

[m4rs-ex3]

(even louder) trailer screaming part 2

the adrenaline i've had all day is making me crash hard so i'm tired so idk if i'll actually be screaming louder but like. internally i am

well starting off strong

oh fucking boy

first i'm gonna say i love the way he said "however ~vile~" like slay

and then i know that like. this feels like such an obvious/lame explanation but i do not believe this is "real". like of course there's the fact that the cube. yknow. isn't like that in real life that's just how it looks in his fever dream. a lame ass reason for sure but honestly my real reason for not believing this is that there's no way they'd put THIS reveal in the trailer. there's a distinctly lower number of new clips in this trailer then there has been for seasons past, which could be them building hype for the end of the arc(s), but still i have a feeling that there's only so much they were willing to put out (which excites me btw), so i doubt this would be one of those things, yk? i don't know anything ok im tired

could be another dream, could be hallucinations, could be anything

i do find it incredibly interesting that he's clearly in a xadian forest surrounded by giant mushrooms tho (zubeia?)

i will say this i believe

fuck she relapsed. but. b-ut also..ooo..w..

iiiiiiiiiii

we're all fairly certain that's human aaravos (which didn't even occur to me until i read one of the comments that shows you how observatory i am) and............... well i suppose it was inevitable. i've personally never really thirsted for aaravos; of course i get it but just can't relate. and now.............. oh my god this is the hottest person i have ever seen in my life. i've been awoogaing from the minute i saw him and damnit you can't make me stop

considering the following shot (also because it makes sense) that this is the spell that brought back all the spirits, but it makes me question the shot of aaravos standing in the valley of the graves cackling as the spirits surround him, because that just gives me very "mwuahaha we've just unleashed them" so idk. this is me trying to convince myself that that's not actually aaravos so i can drool over him without a little shame

ohoho this is exciting and fucking petrifying. that is a freeze spell if i've ever seen one, so it seems we have soren, TERRY !!, and allen rushing to presumably stop them, and then aanya kneeling over lujanne's body!!! yippee!

may i just say that the location zip zapping is hurting my brain. like callum and rayla both go from the nexus to katolis and everyone in katolis goes to the banther lodge and then callum ends up in a random xadian forest but also akiyu's grotto for some reason meanwhile rayla goes to the silvergrove but she also ends up in lux aurea with soren and coruvs who were with ez and aanya in the crystal cavern but ez and aanya were also at the valley of the graves but soren and aanya are also at the nexus where claudia and aaravos and terry are but before/after that they were/are first at the valley of the graves and also a xadian forest but then terry was in a different seemingly not-xadian forest and i need to lie down

in addition to the Cave Fuckers we also keep seeing this mf with BAT WINGS??? HELLO????

ok i know i sound like an edgy middle schooler but i'm sorry this is the most exciting shot in the trailer for me. what can i say blood excites me. my favorite characters covered in blood? even better. short king ram with that sickass head tilt? fucking hell to the fucking yeah (i'm choosing to ignore the way he literally went rawr XD immediately after)

this is another one where there's so much to process like as aforementioned we're in a xadian forest and terry's here looking perfectly content so assuming that he is abandoning ship (which is supported by the nexus shot) this is before that??

also as aforementioned callum in akiyu's grotto which is SO out of left field but whatever

and akiyu is also here. on the ground perhaps. good sign

this is irrelevant but. look at that lil face. hehe

ALSO AA IM STUPID AND AM ONLY JUST NOW REALIZING THIS BUT THE FIRE IS CLAUDIA'S YOU CAN SEE FROM THE BG OF HER DRAGON TRANSFORMATION SHE DEF THERE TOO AAKSDHFKJAHSKJDFHIASDHFLJKHSDKLFHKJSAHDLFK IM FO FUCKING EXCITED YOU HAVE NO IDEA HWO LONG AND HOW BADLY IVE NEEDE A PROPER CALLUM V CLAUDIA SHOW DOEWN EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

also it's giving

[silverynight]

The heart of the barbarian King

<--Previous

Chapter 4

"Kacchan, I brought berries!" Izuku beams, holding a basket full of them, as he walks back inside the house.

As soon as the alpha sees him, he relaxes immediately and smiles at him fondly.

"I'm guessing you had fun in the market again."

"I did!" The omega nods as he starts washing the fruit so they can eat them as soon as possible. "Your friends are great!"

"They're not bad," Katsuki concedes somewhat, refusing to admit they're awesome, even though Izuku knows he's glad to have them. "Which are your favorites?"

"Huh?" Izuku tilts his head, a bit confused as the alpha hugs him from behind and starts nuzzling the back of his neck.

"The berries."

"Oh! Blueberries, obviously!"

He hears Katsuki chuckle behind himself.

"Obviously."

"They're the best berries, Kacchan," Izuku says, smiling too. For a moment, it's like none of the bad stuff happened and this was his choice: to live near the mountain with his childhood friend. "You seem tense. What happened?"

"I'm feeling much better now," Katsuki assures him, nuzzling against the omega's cheek as soon as he turns around. "It's just... some of them are a bunch of idiots and I have to deal with them almost every single day."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kacchan," Izuku mumbles sincerely as he places a few berries on a plate and sits next to the alpha at the table. "Here. This will make you feel better!"

"You make me feel better," he assures him, but he takes a bite of the strawberry the omega is offering him.

For some reason, the custom of feeding him the first two bites of every single dish feels a lot intimate now.

It's a bit weird to feed one's friends like that. But Izuku doesn't want to be rude after everything Katsuki has done for him.

"Kacchan, if I ever eat with your friends do I have to feed them too?"

"NO!" Katsuki growls, and for a moment, Izuku thinks he can smell something sour in his scent, but it's just for a few seconds. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. What I was trying to say was that you shouldn't... It's just you and me because... we live together."

"Oh! I see!" Izuku nods. "Thanks for letting me know, Kacchan! I wouldn't want to make a mistake!"

Katsuki still looks tense though, so Izuku hands him a cranberry that the alpha eats from his hand before taking a few himself.

He feeds Izuku a couple of blueberries too.

"Wait, you have–" he interrupts himself when he notices the juice of the blueberries sliding from the omega's bottom lip.

Izuku can't see it, but he feels it; he blushes, getting embarrassed and trying to find something to clean himself with when the alpha grabs him by the chin and uses his thumb to remove some from his lower lip...

Katsuki abruptly stops as soon as he realizes what he's doing; he turns completely red and blinks a couple of times. He suddenly rises from the chair and tells Izuku he's done eating and that he wants to rest because he's tired.

"I need to go to my room."

The omega thinks it's a bit early to sleep, but Katsuki is a King; the responsibilities he has to deal with daily must be really exhausting.

He deserves to rest. Izuku cleans everything, washes his face, and eventually goes back to his room.

***

"It's going to be alright, Izuku," the alpha assures him, caressing his shoulder gently as they walk to the middle of the town and sit on the ground around a huge bonfire.

It's been a week since Izuku arrived there and, according to Katsuki, the heads of the clans have grown curious about him and want to meet him.

"You don't even have to talk to them," the barbarian says. "They just want you to be here to see you since you'll be living with me from now on."

Izuku supposes that's fair; they're protective of their people and wouldn't want anyone dangerous to live among them.

He relaxes a bit when he manages to see Jiro, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima arriving; they make sure to wave at Izuku and sit next to them.

"Let me scent you, nerd."

The omega nods immediately; Katsuki is the one he trusts the most, and being surrounded by his scent will help him feel a lot better.

The alpha pulls him into his arms before making sure to nuzzle against his scent glands throughly; this time, it feels different for some reason, even when Izuku shyly scents Katsuki back.

"Geez!" Jiro grimaces, looking in their direction before glaring at the barbarian King. "I think that's quite enough! We get it, he's yours!"

Katsuki smirks triumphantly as Izuku gets distracted by the group of barbarians who bring a couple of instruments with them.

He perks up when the sound of music starts filling the air.

"Come on, nerd. Let's dance!"

"But I don't know how to!"

"Just follow my steps and you'll be fine!"

He manages to copy Katsuki's steps and follow the rhythm of the music just fine, and he realizes he's having so much fun! At some point, Katsuki grabs him by the waist and lifts him as he turns them both around. Kaminari and Kirishima are dancing and laughing next to them.

"See?" Katsuki chuckles, putting the omega back on the ground before going back to their spot. The King had arranged his own cape so Izuku could sit on it. "It wasn't difficult at all."

The omega nods because he's a bit distracted by the plates a woman placed on their spot and notices that his has a few blueberries on the side.

As other people dance around the bonfire, Izuku and Katsuki start eating; the omega makes sure to feed him the first two bites of his plate and the barbarian does the same.

After a while, Izuku notices that a couple of people are watching them with curiosity.

"Pay them no mind, Izuku," the alpha mumbles before nuzzling against his cheek softly and placing a hand on his leg almost protectively.

After a while, the heads of the clans decide to leave, but they approach them first and bow in front of Katsuki and Izuku before walking away.

Except three of them. They pay their respects to their King, but ignore the omega completely.

Katsuki growls, looking like he's about to start a fight, but Izuku places a kind hand on his cheek to calm him down.

Kirishima is right next to them in a second.

"Don't make things worse, man," he tells him. "They're doing this to provoke you for what you did to Chisaki. But it's okay, the important thing here is that the majority of them approve of Izuku already."

"It's not like their approval matters to me–"

"I know, but it's an important part of being a King," Kirishima reminds him.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, but grunts in agreement.

"Fucking politics," he grimaces before pulling the omega closer and burying his face in the curve of his neck.

As Izuku strokes his back to calm him down, he looks up at the alpha with red hair and smiles at him.

"Thank you," he says sincerely, prompting Kirishima to smile happily in return.

"You're welcome, Midoriya! Although you do a lot for him already too!"

Izuku is not so sure about that, but he's determined to try; Katsuki is his friend, and he'll be more than happy to help him now that he's stuck in the barbarian kingdom. It's the least he can do.

***

Katsuki starts teaching him hand to hand combat; he's good at it, he explains calmly to Izuku what the weak spots on an average person are, and which part of the body he should usually aim for.

"Although, if they're a trained warrior, that won't stop them," the alpha continues, moving around Izuku in a circle. "You should try to analyze your opponent while you're fighting them and find their weaknesses."

It's like All Might used to tell him; Izuku recalls, trying not to get distracted by the memory of him.

He wonders where he could be at the moment.

Of course, Izuku ends up on the ground after a few minutes; Katsuki has had a lot of training over the years, and a good one because the barbarians are very skilled when it comes to fighting techniques.

"Not bad, nerd," he smirks, offering the omega his hand to pull him up. "You learn really fast."

They keep doing that in Katsuki's spare time over the next couple of days. They also pay a lot of visits to Dynamight so Izuku can pet the cute dragon and tell him how amazing he is.

"He's not cute!"

Jiro and Kaminari spend a lot of time with him lately, and Izuku thinks he can safely think of them as his friends too.

They're getting ready for the trip to the city, although Jiro says that the trip has been postponed a couple of times and she's not entirely sure why.

"But..." Kaminari tilts his head in confusion. "Would you be able to go? I mean... the dark magic won't stop you from leaving this place?"

"It's not the place," Izuku explains. "It's you... I mean, all of you. As long as I don't leave your people, I should be fine. And since I'll be traveling as part of your group, nothing will happen."

Kaminari smiles at him, visibly relieved; Izuku can't help but grin back because he knows the beta was genuinely worried about him.

All of them are such good friends.

***

The more time he spends with Katsuki, the more he realizes being around him feels so natural, like they never stopped seeing each other. It's like they have known each other their whole lives.

Sure, they fight and argue, but they also know how to make things better and apologize when they have to.

"Kacchan, let's spar!"

Izuku doesn't have to tell him twice; he can see the smirk on the King's face immediately before his red eyes spark with joy.

The barbarian jumps at him, but the omega has learned enough to avoid the first hit. None of them are careful when they spar, but they don't try to actively hurt the other either; the main goal of their training sessions is to make the opponent fall to the ground.

It's difficult, especially having someone as Katsuki as his sparring partner because he's great at all types of combat.

But Izuku has learned a couple of things, and he spends his nights taking notes on a journal he bought at the market almost since he got here. He takes notes on everything; the weather, the fauna and flora of the place, Dynamight's habits, his fire and, most importantly, all the things Katsuki and Izuku's friends have been teaching him so far.

Although when it comes to fighting, it's way easier to read it on paper than actually do it.

The barbarian tries to catch him, but Izuku manages to avoid him again; he has realized that even though Katsuki is stronger, Izuku is faster than him.

And he has to use that to his advantage.

Finally, Izuku sees an opening; he jumps at Katsuki and while he manages to throw him, the omega ends up falling with him.

"Does this count as me winning, Kacchan?" It should, right? Because the alpha is on his back, vulnerable, while Izuku is basically sitting on his chest. He's the only one that can move at the moment.

"Huh?" The barbarian blinks a couple of times before looking up at the omega and placing a gentle hand on his thigh. He doesn't seem to be fully aware of what he's doing because once his eyes follow the movement of his hand, he moves it away. "You have freckles on your thighs."

"I have freckles all over my body, Kacchan," Izuku replies, wondering if the King hit his head too hard when he fell.

Katsuki's face turns a deep shade of red, which makes the omega worry even more.

"Y-You win this time," he stammers, carefully grabbing Izuku by the waist, getting him off him and placing him carefully to the side.

As soon as Katsuki is free, he rises from the ground with a single, very rushed jump.

"Are you alright, Kacchan?"

Katsuki doesn't answer, he just keeps walking until he finds the buckets of water they leave outside the house and dumps one all over himself.

"Kacchan!"

"It's alright, nerd!" He says, clothes now soaking wet. "I was feeling really hot... that's it."

"Oh... okay?" The omega is still a bit confused. Although he can tell that clearly worked because Katsuki's face is not red anymore. "Perhaps you should go inside and change so you don't catch a cold?"

"You know what? You're absolutely right, Izuku."

The alpha goes back inside after that, leaving the green haired man a bit confused still. He shakes off some of the dirt from his clothes as he rises and thinks about taking a bath when he sees Jiro and Ashido rushing towards him.

"The trip to the city has been approved! We're leaving tomorrow, isn't that great?" Jiro informs him.

"I can't wait!" He blurts out, beaming, already thinking about the witch. He hopes she has a solution to his problem.

"Where's your blond gremlin?" Ashido chuckles, looking at him with curiosity.

"Inside... changing. But he'll probably be back in a minute."

"It's alright. He can take his time. The things I have to tell him are going to make him mad."

"Why?"

"He won't be able to come with us to the city; he has a couple of meetings to attend to."

She's right, Katsuki won't like it at all.

***

You can read Chapter 5, Chapter 6 and Chapter 7 on my patreon already!

Patreon

[saiintvalentiine]

hello............ loyalty duo werewolf au..................... im gonna start posting bits and bobs here and there of things ive written that dont really have anywhere else to go. no promises on if this will be continued, but i. i do love me some werewolves........................ divider

Warnings for vague descriptions of injuries and implied torture. The writing and editing is kinda rough, sorry for any major errors :')

Wordcount: 1,087

“Werewolves don't exist,” is what the voice says. “What the fuck, werewolves do not exist!”

The muzzle hurts. It's too tight for his face. But he doesn't move from where he's laid, a bloodied heap slowly healing from his wounds. Every full moon he's dragged into this bedrock room after his fights, and every full moon he tries to escape while adrenaline is still flowing through him, and every full moon he suffers the consequences of thinking they can’t possibly stop him this time. He's too tired to fight this new voice, their scent uniquely cat-like and hovering above him. His eyes are too swollen. He's cried quite a bit. It's hard to stop when he's like this.

“Shit, I guess werewolves exist. Fuck. This isn't what I thought was gonna happen when they said there was dog fighting.”

The voice hovers closer, and he tries to shy away. Something is— broken, probably, in his leg, and his claws are cut through the quick, but he tries anyway to press against the wall.

“Hey, hey hey hey, no, I'm not gonna hurt you,” the voice pitches down, softens, and the part of his mind that can't bear another moment of cruelty forces a whimper out of his mouth. “Oh that's— I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm here to get you out, yeah? We're gonna leave. We're gonna leave riiiiight now, right now, I scared everyone else out, it's just you and me now.”

He's not sure he believes the voice, but beyond the walls, there is a terrifying, blessed silence. Whatever this voice did to everyone else, it could probably do to him. He's in no shape to fight it off.

“Hey,” the voice is even quieter now. “It said outside the door that your name is Wifies. Is that you? Wifies?”

He recognizes the name as the one they call him when he's not like this. He can't make any meaningful noise with his muzzle on, but he tries for. . . a purr, something in his chest that isn't a growl.

“Okay. Wifies. Okay Wifies, I'm Ken. You look too big for me to carry, so we need to work together to get you out of here, yeah?” there's some rustling, and Ken curses. He can't help the way he curls up further. “I brought all my escape kits but not a single healing pot. I'm an idiot.”

Getting up from his curled up spot sounds impossible, but his nails are already growing back in as jagged spikes, so he knows he can do it. He struggles to get his arms beneath him, hoisting himself up after a few false starts. Using his good leg, he twists around to sit and lean against the wall. That little bit of effort has him panting, or panting as much as he can within the metal restraints of his muzzle. He peels his eyes open, ignoring the sting.

“Hoooooooly shit,” Ken mutters, staring up at him. He's a head taller than Ken like this. “I definitely can't carry you, my God.”

Ken is dressed in all black, a brown strap across his chest and a bag hanging off his back. He's a cat hybrid, which explains the smell. His ears and eyes and whip-thin tail are split between a candied green and a golden orange. As soon as his blood stops rushing through his ears, he can hear Ken's heart beating, fast and skipping.

He can't make himself any smaller if he's meant to walk. He lowers his head and puts his ears back.

“Nooo, no no no, it's— you make yourself very small very well. Um, okay, let's— how am I gonna get you out of here?”

His bad leg still hurts, but if he can leave. . . He digs his palms into the bedrock behind him and pushes himself to stand. His weight, as paltry as it is for a wolf his size, causes his bad knee to buckle. Ken yelps. He withstands the shaking, burning pain of it to stand up properly.

“They don't chain you up anywhere?” Ken asks, eyes darting around the room. “I've got a netherite axe. I could definitely split any chain.”

Chains were no good. Once his nails grow back, they're easy to shred. He stares down at Ken.

“Jeez, you're huge, good fucking grief.”

He lumbers forwards towards Ken, and the darkened double doors of his cell. Ken takes a step back, then another, then turns around to push the doors open to their absolute maximum. He hunches over to squeeze through.

The hallway is just as dark as the cell, uninterrupted bedrock as far as he can see.

“It's a bit of a labyrinth. Just follow me.”

Ken hesitates for a moment before weaving his way through the halls. He follows, a loud, thudding, limping pace that should have alerted every single creature around to his presence. But it's just Ken’s feather-light footfalls and him. Whatever Ken did to clear the place out was absurdly successful. 

As they turn another indistinct corner, he sees— moonlight. It pools onto the floors, sweet and cool and calling to him. There's a hole blown through the bedrock, the sparkling smell of redstone surrounding it, and he scrabbles around Ken to squeeze through it. Tumbling onto soft, dewey grass (grass, real grass, when had he ever felt such a thing?) he loses all strength and lays on his back, staring up at the full moon.

She's so huge. He's never seen Her before, had just known when She was full or new in his core. But here She is. She is huge and beautiful and he feels, for the first time ever, at peace.

Ken hops out of the hole and steps closer, crouching next to him.

“Hey buddy,” Ken says. “Do you think I can take the muzzle off?”

He shakes his head, then growls for good measure— a soft growl, low and short to not intimidate Ken too much. He can't explain that the muzzle was put on when he was smaller, that it can’t be removed when he’s like this. Or, it can, but it’ll hurt so much he might cry again. Better to let Ken believe that it’s impossible, just in case.

“That's a no. Okay. Well, we should probably leave soon before anyone realizes anything,” Ken looks up at the sky before swinging back and sitting down in the grass, sighing. “But I don't think sitting here for a little longer can hurt.”

Wifies purrs and basks in the moonlight.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

5 - I'm Your Man

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Iceman's mortality is becoming more apparent, Hangman and Rooster have words, Jake is angry about his feelings

A/N: I shuffled around canon events so this would work. Never said it was canon compliant hehehe

Playlist

As Nat headed out the door to Sam's house, Jake was arriving. He'd pulled up in his truck and he felt slightly awkward as he hopped out. He had on his khakis and cowboy boots again and as Nat passed him she raised her eyebrows. She glanced back at Sam who had her arms folded and was standing in the doorway. Jake shut the door to his truck and popped his sunglasses on. He glanced at Nat one more time as she got into her car.

Sam was sure they'd have a chat later. She knew Nat cared deeply for her and didn't want to see her hurt, but she also knew how nasty Sam could be when she needed to be. Sam herself had scared off her fair share of guys who wanted to treat her like a piece of ass instead of with respect. Then there was Jake. Sam still hadn't figured out Jake's motives but there was something telling her they were more pure than she'd expected. Jake was in his late twenties. He was at a point where he needed to be done fucking around, especially if he wanted to continue with Sam. She definitely wasn’t looking for a hook up. He knew she was looking for more than that.  He was too. Now they just needed to get on the same page, but Jake knew he was going to have to work to show her that he was worth it.

He had a goofy smile on his face as he clipped his sunglasses to the front of his white t-shirt, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. His shoulders were tight as he reached the top step. 

“Feel like the secondary lover here...” Jake said sheepishly and Sam smiled as she waved at Nat, and pulled him through the front door. 

“Aww, are you jealous that Nat slept in my bed and you didn’t?” Sam asked, smirking at Jake. He glanced down at what she had on, realizing she was in sweatpants that hung low on her hips and crop top that showed part of her stomach. He licked his lips, and blatantly stared at her mid section.

“Uh, a little, especially if you were wearin’ that, honey bun.” He said as his eyes followed her up the stairs. She gazed back at him, just as Rocco appeared and headed straight for Jake.

“Oh, Jake...I wear much less than this to bed.” She said with a snarky undertone, and he sighed heavily as he cocked a hip, folded his arms behind his back and locked eyes with the little dachshund who was currently trying to climb up his legs. He leaned down, and picked Rocco up and held him. 

“At least you don’t tease me.” He said softly to the dog, who licked his cheek. The pair watched as Sam came down not too long later, in the same outfit she’d gone up in. Jake thought she was going to change but evidently not. 

“Sorry. Had to grab my phone and check on dad. You’re cute.” She said, petting Rocco’s head and kissing Jake on the cheek. He felt his face heat up and he was sure he looked like a tomato as she brushed past him to open the door so they could head out to get breakfast. 

“Thanks?” He tilted his head and placed Rocco back on the floor. The little dog wagged his tail and Sam grabbed his leash and clipped it to his collar. She motioned for Jake to follow and he did, putting his sunglasses on as they stepped out into the morning light. He reached for her, his hand meeting the small of her back, gaining her attention so he could ask her how her father was. 

“He’s okay. Really tired today. Usually he’s up before me but he was just laying there and my mother said he was having trouble breathing overnight...” She said, her voice taking on a somber tone and that’s where Jake saw the concrete foundation crack. The stoicism she displayed one hundred percent of the time ended with her father. 

“I’m sorry...” Jake said, chancing it by putting his hand around her waist as they continued walking. She leaned into him and let her guard down, placing her arm around him as well. Jake’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the cafe. When they arrived, Jake stopped her before they ordered. His gaze set upon hers and he reached up to run his fingers across her cheek as he spoke. “If you need anything, or you ever feel too alone in this...just ask me...and I'll be there.”

Sam blinked a few times before closing her eyes and pressing her cheek into his open palm. The movement set goosebumps across her skin and sent sparks through him. She reached up and rested her hand over his for a moment before pulling away. She took a deep breath, pushing all of the what ifs and maybes down deep, along with the tears that she didn't want him to see. 

When they arrived back at her house, she invited him in. They sat at the kitchen island, where she had a view of her father sitting on the couch. Jake watched as she went over and spoke quietly to him, obviously making sure Jake couldn’t hear what she said, and then kissed him on the forehead. When she came back over, Jake saw her eyes were misty again. He stayed silent as they ate, Sam glancing over at her father every so often. He was watching some sports show, mostly recaps from games from the last few days, and he would cough every so often. His cough was dry and harsh and sounded like he could hack up a lung at any point. Jake could only imagine how bad it hurt. 

The longer they sat there, the more Jake saw the happiness leave Sam’s features. He saw dread creeping in and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. He was sure she was coming to terms with what was going on, but as Jake had noticed, her mother was not around, neither were her siblings. Her mother had taken on full responsibility of the younger siblings during the day, taking them to school, then running errands for Ice because he couldn’t do them, then picking the kids up and taking them to whatever sports or after school things they did. Jake surmised that Sam was very much alone in this, especially since she worked at home. She saw Ice all day now and Jake knew it had to be hard watching someone’s life slowly be taken from them by cancer.

After they’d finished their breakfast, Sam walked Jake to the door and they stepped out onto the front step. He stood for a moment, toying with his sunglasses. Sam glanced around before her eyes met Jake’s and that was when she lost it. She dissolved into tears, resolve expired. Jake pulled her in close, knowing that his strong arms couldn’t shield her from everything but they could at least hold her tight and make her forget everything for a few moments. 

“I know it’s not okay...I know you’re not okay...but when I’m here...you put all this on me, okay? You let me take it all away. Let me have the aftermath, because I promise you, I can take it. I can't fix it, but I can hold you for as long as you need a break from the pain.” He murmured into her hair and she nodded in his arms, tears wetting his t-shirt as she held onto him for as long as she could untl he had to leave for the base. 

“Just breathe, babygirl. It'll be okay .”

🛩🛩🛩

Over the next week or so, plenty of situations arose where Jake had thought of his own mortality. When Mav and Rooster went at it in their jets, Jake thought about having to dive down and save one of them. When Phoenix and Bob had to punch out, he thought about how he'd never had to. Not once in his whole career. And when Jake took it a little too far, and Rooster was about to knock his goddamn block off, Jake thought about how he shouldn't have said what he said. 

“I'm not running a fucking daycare here, Seresin! Act your goddamn age!” Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson yelled, slamming his hands on his desk. “You were top of your class, always a team leader, for fuck’s sake! Take responsibility for you actions and cut the shit with Bradshaw! And don’t think you’re the only one getting reprimanded here. I have yet to speak to Bradshaw, but you can bet the two of you are on thin fuckin’ ice. ” 

Jake smirked slightly at the expression but then his brows furrowed, thinking of Sam’s father. 

“Stop smirking, Seresin, you're dismissed.” Cyclone said and Jake saluted and left the office, noticing Bradley was walking toward him. 

“Thanks Bradshaw. Got my ass reemed because of you.” Jake said as he passed him. Bradley whipped around and charged at Jake, grabbing him by the neck of his flight suit. He pulled him close enough that Jake could smell his sweat and cologne.

“ You're a fuckin’ asshole, Seresin. You don't deserve the time of day from Sam. I hope she does what she does with every other guy and plays with you and you catch feelings and then dumps your ass, because that's really what you deserve.” Bradley gritted through his teeth and then he pushed Jake away, leaving him paralyzed on the spot as Bradley fixed his suit and headed into Cyclone's office. 

Jake blinks a few times before trying to dissect what Bradley just said to him. He heads back to the locker room, noticing most everyone had finished up. Now they were all sitting and chatting. Jake turned and faced his locker, unzipping his flight suit and stepping out of it. 

“So how bad was it?” Coyote asked. Jake turned and smirked.

“Ah, just got yelled at. Not that big of a deal.” Jake said, pulling his uniform khakis from his locker. He would shower at home so that he didn't need to stay here any longer. He didn't need to wait for Bradley to start shit again. Jake didn't need to get hit. In his own selfish and stupid way, Jake thought of his taunting as encouragement, hoping to make these guys better pilots. He knew most of them were hot blooded, so teasing got them riled...some more than others. When they got riled they tried harder, and they thought less and that's what Bradley needed. He needed to think less. Jake said bye to everyone, and that was when he felt like he was going to get ambushed again. And he was right about that.

“Hangman!” He heard Phoenix’s voice echo through the corridor and he stopped, sighing heavily. Here we go, he thought.

“Yes ma’am?” He said ss he turned to her with a smirk. She was in his face quicker than a wolf on it’s prey. 

“Don’t ma’am me. You better not hurt Sam.”

“Why is everyone protecting her but not actually doing anything to help her then? First Bradshaw, now you? Who’s next? Mav? Cyclone? Am I gonna get kicked out of the fuckin’ Navy if I date the fucking Commander’s daughter? No, you’re all talk and no action.” He was actually starting to get angry. He could feel it bubbling up inside of him and he felt bad that Phoenix would get the brunt of it. 

“If you’re not careful, you might! You’re a good pilot. Your attitude sucks though. And you’re a player. That’s not what she needs right now. You’re an asshole for thinking you can swoop in and get whatever you want while she’s going through...”

“Goin’ through what? Her father dyin’? Yeah, I know he is. I’ve seen him. I’m not tryin’ to take advantage of her. I’m tryin’ to be a distraction for her. I’m tryin’ to be the punching bag here because I know I can be. Don’t even try to say I don’t see what its doin’ to her. I do. Trust me...I see it every morning.” Jake bristled as he spoke and Phoenix’s eyes went wide. 

“You haven't even know her that long...” Phoenix said and Jake couldn't help his next words. The anger inside him boiled over and it came out as admittance.

“That shouldn't matter when I know I love her ! I know y'all think I'm very fuckin’ incapable of those types of emotions but I do feel them and I've never felt them this fuckin’ hard before. I would risk my career for her. For her. ” He said, gritting his teeth as the last words came out. Coyote, Payback, and Bob had poked their heads into the hall and had heard everything as they saw Hangman turn and walk off. Phoenix shook her head and sighed, just as she saw Rooster walking down the corridor.

“I heard all that.” He said as he reached for her shoulder. She saw Bob, Payback, and Coyote also had looks of astonishment on their faces.

“So...Hangman and Sam?” Bob asked and Phoenix gave him a look that could've killed him if he wasn't immune to Phoenix death stares already. 

🛩🛩🛩

Just before Jake was about to leave Javy’s house for a dinner date with Sam, a bunch of his co-pilots came through the door. There was most likely a game on tv. Jake waited for everyone to file in before he tried to sneak out, but Phoenix was the last through the doorway and she stopped. Their  eyes locked and she asked if she could talk to him outside for a moment. Jake nodded and they walked back out the front to stand on the steps. Jake leaned against one side of the railing and Phoenix against the other. Bradley followed them, standing in the doorway.

“Bradley, it’s fine. I just wanna talk.” Phoenix said and he glared at Jake before shutting the door. Jake looked away, at anything but her. Her gaze was menacing, as if she was trying to bore a hole right through him. “Were you serious earlier?”

“Every bit.” Jake said, his jaw working as tension wracked his body. Phoenix chuckled to herself.

“Hangman has feelings. Who would’ve thought?” She said and his eyes glazed over, stare becoming unreadable. “There you are, back to Bagman. You put on a very good facade.”

“Well, I have to, otherwise people might think I’m soft. Or nice. God forbid I’m nice to anyone.” Jake said, shifting his weight from leaning on the railing to his feet with a wider stance.

“You don’t with her, do you? Why?” She asked and Jake shook his head and shrugged.

“Don’t feel like I need to. She sees right through it anyway.” He said and Phoenix nodded.

“Yeah, she’s always been good at that. Listen...Jake...I’m not gonna tell you don’t hurt her because you’ve heard it...I’ve said it...like you said...everyone has said it...but after thinking about what you said earlier...just please promise me you’ll be there for her when this all goes south...because it’s gonna soon. Her and I are best friends...but our paths have grown apart more than I thought they would...and if you’re gonna take my place as her main support...just be there...just be there whenever she asks for it...because I worry what she might do if someone isn’t there. She’s so damn stoic about all of this...she’s so good at hiding her emotions, just like you are, but I know deep down there’s a deep well of them that will eventually bubble to the surface and when they do...I don’t know how she’ll react. I don’t know what will happen...so just...be there Jake. Please.” Phoenix finished her monologue and Jake nodded.

“I can do that, Nat. I can, I promise.” He said and Phoenix stepped toward him and pulled him into a hug. 

“Have a good night then. Tell her I said hi.” Phoenix said as she let him go and stepped toward the door. Jake saluted her and headed toward his truck. He smiled as he climbed in and opened up his phone, the background a cute picture he had taken of Sam and Rocco earlier that week while they had been walking on the beach. He hasn't even felt his phone vibrate but he had a text. From Sam.

Sam; hey flyboy, you're late

He typed a response back.

Jake: sorry honeybun be there in a few

Her response was quick and it made Jake's heart nearly leap out of his chest.

Sam: can't wait to see you 😍

[icarusredwings]

Once landed, Logan and Wade were gearing up. There was already an entire search party here, dogs, squad, all of them talking, some parts of the woods taped off. It made Logan's hair raise.

"What's wrong? Hank said you did good by killing that kid." Wade tells him, his snow suit bright red, boots, gloves, and some markings black.

"I didn't kill that kid. That's apprently the problem..." he grumbles, his breath looking just as thick as his cigar smoke. He gave a small shake, not used to the blizzard feeling over his nose again. He was retired. Too old for this shit..

"I fucked up, Wade..."

"What do you mean? You smelled something bad so you attacked it. That's 10 out of 10 wolverine-ing right there. If theyre too stupid to see it, thats their problem." He mutters, stopping in his tracks, Noticing the way Logan had stopped in his, death glaring.

"You found Scotty didn't you?" He looks to where Logans daggers are going. "Yup. You did. Well for now lets ignore him and focus on the little girl. And then after we can beat him to a bloody pulp until he apologizes to you."

Logan growls, trudging forward through the snow towards him.

"Hey?? Hello? Earth to Logan?..... peanut?.... Uugghh god you're so fucking stubborn.." He groans, complaining as he follows suit. "Didnt you hear anything I just said? Girl- then kick ass. There's a checklist!"

Logan couldn't hear his husband complaining, beelining for that asshole, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against a rangers truck. "Give me one damn good reason you drug my ass out here on a PLANE!" He snarls at him, popping the other hands claws out.

"Wolverine! That's enough!" A woman calls, before Scott could even threaten him back.

Turning his head, Logan glared, about to bark a 'What!?' Before seeing her. Standing there, was Ororo, still as beautiful as ever, wrinkles and all. She still was rocking that funky hair cut and she was still (in the snow) wearing those killer boots.

And she. Looked. PISSED.

"Ooh snap- youre in trouble now." Wade mutters, scooting out of frame.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"He-" He tries to explain, but mama bear Ro wasn't having it.

"Ah ah! I don't want to hear it! Let him go."

"But-"

"Now. Logan." Her arms cross, turning to give him that LOOK. She's always had that look. The kind that made unruely little kids behave.. and apprently the Wolverine... even in this old age.

Growling, he lets go of Scott, who drimatically coughs. "What is wrong with you!??"

"You sent a plane on purpose! And-!"

"I said ENOUGH!" Thunder cracks out of nowhere, the sky perfectly clear until now, lightning sparking in the clouds.

The two boys look at her, hell, Even Wade sits down. Right there in the snow. Criss cross apple sauce. ".. Yes ma'am.." he whispers out of instinct.

She gives Wade a look of being pleased with his unquestioned obedience, letting him sigh of relief. "You two. I am TIRED. Of this. Fed up! It has been almost 30 years and you two are STILL having such petty debates! There is a child MISSING and you two rather fight about who has the bigger penis!"

Wade coughs. "Logan- " Only to be shot an instant death glare. "Sorry ma'am, but it's true your honor." He salutes, sitting up straight as Ro rolls her eyes, stepping forward.

"Well do it sometime else!! Because so the godess help you, if this little girl doesn't survive? You will be sorry. Do I make myself clear?"

".. Crystal." Scott says, glaring at logan from the side of his visor, rubbing his neck a bit drimatically.

"Logan?" Her brow raised, tilting her head towards him.

"....Fine! But just know that if she dies... It's his fault." He growls, going quiet as he puts the claws away, crossing his arms.

"Good. Now get to work. I'm keeping it as clear as possible, but it takes a lot of power, so hurry up. We're already past the 48-hour mark..." She says this with a sense of melancholic bite as she turned, her cape flowing over as she walked away.

For a moment the boys were silent, only glaring into each others souls, eyes dark with dislike for one another to th very core.

"....soooo... you guys gonna kiss or what?" Wade asks, being shot two more death glares, making him put his hands up. "Fine fine! Lets go find the kid...sheesh.." Standing, he begins to walk off, towards the officers to see if they had anything for Logan to sniff.

Standing there, tense and still, Logan glared needles into him. If he stared any harder he hoped Scott would burst into flames.

"Logan! Come on!" Wade calls as Logan ignores him.

"... Better get going.... your husband is calling." Scott says, but the tone in his voice implied that Logan was the wife, enforcing a negitive gender association that only pissed Logan off anymore.

Slowly starting to walk off, Logan paused. "Better run along, Slim... Daddys calling... Oh wait.."

He walks away, leaving Scott to grit his teeth, tightening his fist into a ball..

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)

[hesgomorrah]

every time i see someone make the "trapper didn't leave a note" argument i lose 5 years off my life fr

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

questioning sexuality is so exhausting