#take a shot for every time i forget an important tag

[marigoldenblooms]

That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by. 

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda���s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 

------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

decipher you | Woozi one-shot

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x fem. Reader

tags: angst, fluff, established relationship, yearning, happy ending, good surprises, a pov switch at the end (just for funsies)

a/n: It's been eons since i wrote on here and a sudden woozi brain rot caused me to write this. not proofread and please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions or fics

masterlist

It’s way past sunset and well into the next day. Hey you can’t help but keep staring at the clock, your phone and the door. The same order. Every 15 seconds.

Clock. Phone. Door. A heavy sigh… Silence… Clock. Phone. Door. A sigh… Silence…

You should go to sleep, you are aware. But the flicker of hope in you has not died yet. He’ll be home before sunrise… today.

You had the same thought for the fifth night in a row. And the last four days you’d been proven wrong.

Yet here you sit, on the edge of your soft brown couch- handpicked by your Jihoon, looking and hoping for any signs of him showing up for a full night’s sleep.

Jihoon always tiptoed in at the early hours of the day- dragging his messy hair and droopy eyes slowly to lay beside you on the bed. Every morning you pretended you didn’t notice him come in. You pretend you didn’t notice his exhausted sigh as his head hits the bed. You pretend you didn’t notice the light peck he gives you even as sleep threatens to take him away. You pretend not to smile as he says the same thing each morning- “Love you baby. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

And each day you pretend you have faith in his sleepy promise. But why wouldn’t you?

This is Jihoon. Your Jihoon.

The same person who stood through your strenuous years of doctorate degree madness. The Jihoon who held your hand through countless vaccinations, never once complaining that you’re too old to cry about needles. The same Jihoon who always cooks every weekend for the two of you, no matter the amount of pressure he is in.

This is the Jihoon who flew 14 hours across the globe to be with you during your thesis presentation.

This is the Jihoon who took a stand against his company and the industry to proudly announce you as his partner and dedicate multiple love songs to you.

This is the Jihoon who learnt your language to talk to you and your parents in your mother tongue.

The is the Jihoon who married you in your home country even if it meant having to fly out his family and friends across the globe.

This is Jihoon. Your whole universe for the last decade. You trust him with everything in this world and know him like the back of your hand.

But even after all these years, you can’t decipher him.

The way he goes silent suddenlymakes it almost impossible to understand if it’s a good, bad, or nothing silent.

Of course, over the years he has learned to let you in on his thoughts. But once in a while, he relapses into this shell of his. This regression happens in higher intensities during the song production time. He is more present during dance practices and comebacks. But when Jihoon is in Producer Woozi mode, he forgets everyone and everything for hours (and sometimes days) on end.

You had gotten used to it for the most part. Usually, this wouldn’t have annoyed or irked you the way it is right now.

But this time, it’s different.

Your world turned around in the last three days and the one person who needs to hear it isn’t there. The one person your heart is leaping out to isn’t there to hold it. This one time you wished life’s timing wasn’t cruel.

There are a lot of things in life you are capable of accomplishing on your own.

But you know how important his work is to Jihoon. After 13 years in this field, the incredulous passion he still carries is commendable. And after everything he and the team has been through, they’re finally enjoying their craft and you’d be the last person to disturb that equilibrium.

Jihoon’s craft is special. His dedication and work ethic are special. You knew he didn’t like to be interrupted or questioned during his process. And god knows you didn’t want to do that.

But you need Jihoon, now more than ever.

So you look up at the clock once again. 1:05 AM Sigh… You turn on your phone once again. No New Notifications. Sigh… You run your hand through your hair. Holding your breath in, you look at the door. Silence… Sig-

The clicking sounds on the door awaken your soul. One-click. One push. The door swings open and there he is- Jihoon. Your Jihoon. Same fluffy, messy hair. The old worn down black hoodie. Droopy eyes now wide open in surprise.

“Baby. Why are you awake? It’s so late.” He says as he kneels next to you after removing his shoes.

“Jihoon-ah…” your voice comes out in a croak. You haven’t uttered a since the last 5 hours you were at home.

“Hmm?” He looks at you with stars in his eyes. The eye bags prominent as the light hits his face. He’s the most beautiful human you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Before you could speak he begins, as his one palm draws circles on your thighs and the other holding your hip. “I’m really really sorry baby… I know I haven’t been present in a while. The company has been pressing us for variety and I’ve been breaking my head about it.”

A pause as he lays his head on your lap and looks at you.

“But today I got it baby. I did it.” His smile lights up his whole face. Pure happiness gleaming from his eyes. This version of Jihoon was one of your favourite. The one gleaming with pride, grinning with joy and enjoying every bit of satisfaction that comes with the kind of dedication only he can pour into his art.

So you smiled, mirroring his happiness.

“I’m so proud of you honey. Can’t wait to hear it soon!”

“You’ll be the first one to hear it.” He says grinning. Your raise your eyebrows and he giggles. The sound of heaven.

“I mean after the team you’ll be the first to hear it.”

Both of you laugh, a soft ringing laughter echoing through the walls of the home you built for yourselves.

You clear your throat slightly.

“Jihoon I need to tell you something…”

“Yes?” He says in the middle of a yawn.

He looks so exhausted in the moment that he looks 10 years younger.

You decided to wait another day.

“I… just needed to tell you… that I missed you… a lot.” Your words come out in a whisper. Barely audible but you know he heard it by the way he shifts on your lap like a little cat.

“I know baby… I’m sorry.”

You sigh. He was sorry and you knew it.

“You could’ve texted me”

He grumbles an apology into your thighs.

“Jihoon you told me you’d communicate better… we��ve been through this cycle before. You’re always going to be creating music, but the least you can do is let me know. You promised me jagi…”

More grumbles as he manoeuvres himself to settle against your stomach.

Your heart skips a beat.

“I understand work is hard. And I’m an adult so I understand even if it’s difficult. But… but your child won’t be able to…”

By the end of your sentence, you could barely hear yourself. But the way Jihoon freezes against you is proof enough that he heard you.

A moment passes and there is no reaction from him. Another moment.

And what feels like a million tiny moments later, Jihoon’s messy head pops up away from your stomach to your face.

His eyes are glistening and big like boba balls. You hold your breath trying to n to read his face. The creases in his forehead and the straight closed mouth slowly give way to the tiniest smile.

That’s all the sign you need as you break into a huge smile.

He looks at your smile, his own mirroring it, and then down at your stomach then up again at your face. He does it a few more times as you break into soft laughs.

He sits upright on his knees, his face in front of you, big wid eyes full of surprise and hope, as his hands cup your cheeks.

“Y/n… are you being serious right now?”

You nod, words too little for the happiness pouring out of in the form of tears.

Jihoon looks stunned but pulls into a close and tight hug.

Home…

When he faces you again, tears are rolling down his cheeks. “When did you find out?” “Umm… four days ago” “Baby why didn’t you tell me soo-“

The color drains from his face as he moved toward your stomach again. He hugs you around your stomach so lightly as if he’s holding a feather.

“I really am sorry jagi. I know I say it a lot but I should do better. I should’ve done better. For you. For us. And…” He looks at you with an apologetic smile, “and for our child.”

You run your fingers through his silky tousled hair. “Jihoon-ah, it’s okay. What’s done is done…”

He smiles at you.

“You have no idea how restless I’ve been waiting to tell you. To see that look on your face.” His smile grows wider and he places a peck on your very normal stomach whcih makes you giggle.

“You do know there is no actual baby in there yet right?” He pouts as he looks at you, causing more giggles on your end.

“I hope our kid doesn’t get your oversmart brain and is normal like me” he says defiantly.

You let out a snort. “Please Mr worldwide popular idol ‘Woozi’! You’re as far from normal as is possible my dear.”

“Well normal or not, I know our child will have the best dad.”

Jihoon’s cheeky comment sets of a back and forth of arguing about which one of you is better until early hours of the morning as laughter rings through the house.

———

Jihoon:

It was another night of sleeping after dawn for him. He was no stranger to a late night. But for the first time in years he feels too ecstatic to sleep.

His mind and body are buzzing with happiness at the thought of the love of his life carrying their child.

He thinks back to the 17 year old Jihoon who saw this cute girl across the street struggling to get her bags on her cycle basket snd decided to forgo his inhibitions for once and help her. He thinks back to 20 year old Jihoon who, for the first time in his life, gave a speech at a bar confessing his love for the same girl despite all his social anxiety. He thinks back to the 28 year old Jihoon who decided to talk to her parents and arrange a special performance for her on their wedding even though all he wanted was alone time with her.

He thought back to everytime he took a chance for this beautiful and smart girl, now lying next to him peacefully asleep, and he thanks every god and higher power in the universe for giving him the courage to do so.

Without her Jihoon wouldn’t know love and life. Now they have a little bundle of joy on its way just to commemorate this love they share.

And this time Jihoon was going to make sure he’d be there every step of the way.

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hello there!😁

If u can of not, I would like to request MK, Wukong, &/or Macaque (U choose may choose who if u don't want to write all😊)x female reader headcanon that does photography(& maybe videography). They enjoyed it as a hobby as a child and continues on with age. Like taking videos or pictures with friends and family so she doesn't forget the good times.

Pairing: Wukong, Macaque, MK x fem!Reader Rating: SFW Warnings/Tags: Fluff, just fl u f f, and Macaque being a lil buttwipe. Word Count: 500+ words

WUKONG 

☀️ ️If Wukong had a partner that regularly took photos then be prepared to have your camera roll be 65% full of his beautiful face. 

☀️ He thinks your hobby is nice and would indulge in it to make you happy; you need a close up of a funny looking bug in that tree? Well, up you go! Oh, what's that? You couldn't catch up to the bird that keeps flying away? Have no fear, Wukong is here to help! 

☀️ When you're not looking, he'll take your camera/and or camcorder and take secret photos/videos for you to find later. They'll either be full of sweet praises or silly jokes and close-up shots of him messing around in your room. 

MK 

🍜 MK seems to be the type to appreciate every form of artistic expression, including photography. When he learns that you've had it as a hobby since you were a kid, he'll insist on being your muse or suggesting things for you to take photos of–cuz, y'know he's the type to think everything is an important memory to keep record of. 

🍜 "Oh, oh, take this one! This one!" 

🍜 "What about this one? It has four buttons on it!" 

🍜 "Don't forget to take a pic of that corner of Pigsy's shop-!" 

🍜 All in all, he's very happy when he looks in your album to find a lot of photos of him and you spending time together—MK's heart swells when he found that you even included a few of his suggestions in the album, but his face exploded when he found the photo of you kissing his cheek while he was distracted by something out of the shot.

MACAQUE 

🌙  While he respects your craft, he doesn't understand your insistence on trying to snap pictures of him. Don't get him wrong, he'll allow you to take some photos of him if he accidentally photo bombs the shot, but more…intimate photos are a hard no from him (especially since he knows how much you scrapbook). 

🌙 You could say he's embarrassed at the idea of coming across a lovey-dovey section of your collection of photos featuring the two of you. He can already hear the teasing comments from a certain group. 

🌙 There have been times when you tried to sneak a few shots of him, but these plans were all thwarted as he disappeared before the shutter went off. He'd reappear behind you, kiss your cheek, then tauntingly say you'll probably get him next time. 

🌙 And get him you did.

🌙 It was a random Tuesday when the two of you were chilling in your home/apt and a movie was playing on the TV. One thing led to another and you two began making out on the couch. Macaque was so into it that he didn't even feel you reach underneath the couch for your camera. 

🌙 The shutter went off and Macaque just..laid there above you frozen, wide-eyed, with his cheeks flushed and hair all in disarray. 

🌙 You had to beg and plea to keep the photo, but he relented after you promised you'll keep it out of the public's eye. No one else deserved to see that photo but you. 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

[zapreportsblog]

Let’s Have A Baby

➥summary: Hobie and his girlfriend babysits her cousin and seeing how good she is with kids, hobie decides that now he wants a baby too

➥ Hobie brown x reader

➥ one shot

➥ a/n: heads up I’m high writing this, I was smoking weed

The sun beamed brightly through the curtains, casting a warm glow in (y/n)'s cozy apartment. Hobie arrived with a smile, a bouquet of colorful flowers in hand, ready to spend a relaxing day with his girlfriend. They had been looking forward to this quality time together, away from the hustle and bustle of their busy lives.

As the day unfolded, they lounged on the couch, sharing laughter, stories, and affectionate moments. Time seemed to fly as they lost themselves in each other's company. The comforting ambiance of the apartment created an atmosphere of tranquility that made them forget about the outside world.

Just as they settled into their leisurely pace, there was a sudden knock on the door. (y/n) hesitated for a moment, wondering who could be visiting at such an unexpected time. She opened the door to find her relative, Alice, standing there, with two adorable kids by her side – a baby, Lily, and a bubbly toddler, Max.

Alice looked flustered and explained the urgency of her situation. She had an important appointment that couldn't be postponed, and all the babysitters she had arranged canceled at the last minute. She turned to (y/n) with a hopeful expression, "I hate to ask, but would you be able to watch the kids for a few hours? I promise it won't take long."

(y/n)'s heart melted at the sight of the innocent faces of Lily and Max. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't resist their charm and, after sharing a brief glance with Hobie, agreed to help her relative out.

“Yeah, sure I don’t mind.”

With Alice's heartfelt gratitude, she handed over a diaper bag filled with essentials, along with instructions on feeding and nap times. As Alice rushed off, leaving them with the kids, Hobie and (y/n) exchanged a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Hobie scooped up little Max in his arms, and the toddler giggled, quickly warming up to his newfound friend. Meanwhile, (y/n) gently cradled baby Lily, who was cooing softly. The apartment soon echoed with the sound of joyful laughter, toys scattered across the living room floor.

Hobie and (y/n) found themselves caught up in the sheer delight of playing tag with Max. The toddler's boundless energy and infectious laughter filled the room, making it impossible not to join in the fun. Hobie ran after Max with a playful glint in his eyes, while (y/n) carried baby Alice in her arms, wiggling her little feet in the air.

•••

"Tag, you're it!" Hobie called out, reaching out to tap Max on the shoulder. The little boy squealed with delight and dashed away, his tiny feet pitter-pattering on the floor.

Meanwhile, baby Alice, who couldn't run like Max, seemed to enjoy the game just as much. She gazed up at (y/n) with wide eyes, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. Every time Hobie chased Max around the living room, (y/n) playfully moved Alice's legs as if she were running too. The sight of Alice's gummy smile melted their hearts, and they couldn't help but shower her with affectionate coos and kisses.

As the game intensified, Hobie and Max sped past furniture, making wild turns and laughing uproariously. The apartment echoed with the sounds of happiness and joy, as if time itself had ceased to exist, leaving only the present moment of shared delight.

The little apartment became their playground, and they reveled in the simplicity of the game. No worries about the outside world, no deadlines, just pure unadulterated joy. (y/n) was grateful for these unexpected moments, realizing that sometimes the best memories are made when life throws you a surprise.

After a few rounds of tag, they all gathered in the center of the room, breathless and exhilarated. Baby Alice clapped her tiny hands together, as if she knew she had been a part of something special. Hobie and (y/n) exchanged a knowing look, realizing that their day had taken an unexpected but wonderful turn.

With Max's energy finally waning, they decided to take a break and set up a makeshift picnic on the living room floor. They laid out a blanket and placed an assortment of snacks and toys for Max to enjoy. (y/n) continued to hold Alice in her arms, cuddling her close as they all sat together.

As they nibbled on snacks, Hobie couldn't help but be in awe of (y/n)'s natural way with children. Her caring and gentle demeanor was evident, and it only made him fall even more in love with her. Their eyes met, and in that moment, they silently acknowledged how much this day meant to them – the laughter, the love, and the sense of togetherness.

•••

With the excitement of tag wearing off, the group decided to wind down and enjoy a Disney movie together. Hobie found a classic animated film that he remembered fondly from his childhood, and they all settled on the couch with baby Alice nestled comfortably in (y/n)'s arms.

As the movie started, Max's curiosity got the best of him, and he turned to Hobie with wide-eyed wonder. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing at the main character on the screen.

"That's Simba," Hobie replied with a smile. "He's the lion cub and the future king."

"Why does he look sad?" Max inquired, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Hobie patiently explained, "Simba lost his dad and has to go on a big adventure to find himself and become the king he's meant to be."

Max nodded thoughtfully and seemed satisfied with the answer. But his inquisitive nature wasn't satisfied yet, and he bombarded Hobie with more questions throughout the movie. "Why are they singing? What's that animal called? Why is she wearing a dress?" Hobie answered each query with enthusiasm, happy to engage in Max's curiosity.

(y/n) chuckled softly, admiring Hobie's patience and how he interacted with Max. She couldn't help but feel grateful for having someone like him in her life, someone who not only embraced her family but also took the time to bond with her younger relatives.

As the movie played on, the room filled with a sense of warmth and joy. Baby Alice seemed fascinated by the colorful characters on the screen, her eyes fixated on the dancing animals and vibrant scenery. Every now and then, she would let out a contented coo, as if she were trying to join the conversation in her own baby language.

The movie continued, and Hobie and (y/n) exchanged affectionate glances, their hearts full of love and happiness. Despite the initial interruption to their planned relaxing day, they had found something even more meaningful – a chance to share special moments with the little ones, making memories that would last a lifetime.

As the movie drew to a close, Max leaned against Hobie, his eyes drooping with drowsiness. (y/n) gently rocked baby Alice, and soon, she too began to drift off to sleep, her little fingers curling around (y/n)'s thumb.

With the movie ending, Hobie and (y/n) exchanged a quiet smile. The apartment had transformed into a haven of love and laughter, and the unexpected visit had brought them closer in ways they couldn't have foreseen.

Hobie carefully lifted Max into his arms, cradling the sleepy toddler as they prepared to say goodbye to Alice and head home. But in that moment, (y/n) knew that the memories they created that day would forever hold a special place in their hearts, reminding them of the joy that can be found in the most unplanned moments.

•••

As (y/n)'s relative gathered her children to leave, she turned to Hobie and (y/n) with a grateful smile. "Thank you both so much for watching the kids. I know it was an unexpected request, but I couldn't have asked for better babysitters. You two are amazing with them!"

Hobie and (y/n) exchanged pleased glances, feeling a sense of pride in having cared for the little ones so well. "It was our pleasure," (y/n) replied, gently handing baby Alice back to her relative. "Anytime you need help, don't hesitate to ask."

With that, Alice and Max were on their way home, leaving Hobie and (y/n) alone once again in the tranquility of the apartment. As the door closed behind them, they let out a sigh of contentment, their hearts still warmed by the precious moments they had shared with the kids.

Hobie settled back onto the couch, pulling (y/n) close to him. He grinned mischievously and said, "You know what, love? I want a baby now."

(y/n) looked up at him, a mix of surprise and joy in her eyes. "Are you serious, Hobie?"

He nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Yeah, I mean, seeing you with those kids, it made me realize how incredible you'd be as a mother. And I can't imagine anything better than starting a family with you."

Her heart swelled with love for him, and she leaned in to kiss him softly. "I'd love to have a family with you, Hobie," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "But let's take our time and enjoy each other for now. When the time is right, we'll make that beautiful dream come true."

Hobie smiled, understanding and respecting her wishes. He knew that their love was strong and that they had a lifetime ahead of them to explore parenthood when the timing felt perfect.

They spent the rest of the day in each other's arms, basking in the love they shared. Their hearts were filled not only with love for each other but also with the newfound joy of spending time with little ones. The unexpected visit had brought them closer than ever before, igniting a desire to create a future together filled with laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

As the evening sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Hobie and (y/n) knew that this day would forever hold a special place in their hearts. It had been a day of unexpected surprises, of building beautiful memories, and of realizing that their love had the power to create something magical.

With a sense of gratitude for the day they had shared, they snuggled up together on the couch, looking forward to the countless adventures and cherished moments that awaited them in the journey of love and life.

[a-spes]

T H E B L O O D O N M Y H A N D S - One shot.

Words count - 3,2k.

Tags & Warnings - Natasha Romanoff x reader, angst / comfort, a form of self-harm, mentions of death and blood.

Summary - When you kill someone on duty for the first time, Natasha is the one being here to stop you from falling.

— — — — —

You haven’t been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for long, barely more than three years. It may seem long for some people but, in that kind of job, it is not. Although your training ended up a long time ago, your teammates are still calling you a Rookie because even after years of duty, you still have a lot of things to learn, some the hard way.

You guess this nickname will stick with you until a new recruit joins the agency. It has been three years that no one passed the entrance exam so you are still seen as the newest addition which pisses you off sometimes. It is frustrating to not be taking seriously just because you are a bit less experienced than your teammates, some of them only been on the agency for one more year than you but are acting cocky with it.

However, despite your teammates’ attitude, you are convinced you are right where you are supposed to be : even if some days are rough, you love this job. Honestly, you never planned to join the agency but now you are here, you don’t want to leave.

You have always dreamed about becoming a police officer, not some kind of governmental spy. You ended up here thanks to a bit of fate and, mostly, thanks to the help of one of your professors. At the police academy, you were doing great, you were among the best of your promotion, that is why Mr. Andrews suggested you to take the entrance exam for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. Before that day, you had never heard about the agency, but you still decided to give it a try, it was the least you could do to thanks him for everything he did.

Surprisingly, you succeed the exam and earned a place at the academy, alongside with two of your classmates. You weren’t sure it was what you wanted to do, but it was probably your only chance to give it a try so you went to the academy, thinking you could always leave if it doesn’t suit you. Yet, it has been the best decision you made.

Surely, you doubted it sometimes, thinking about quitting because the training was so hard, both physically and mentally, that you thought you couldn’t take it anymore. But you stayed, not being alone helped you a lot so, even if you doubted a lot your decision, you never regretted it.

Until today.

One day was enough to change everything. The first rule in the job is that you know nothing. Every mission is different, every mission could go wrong at any moment, it is impossible to be prepared to what it could bring to you. After three years of duty, you tend to forget about that rule. Up to now, everything went smooth, except for a few injuries you got, you were lucky.

It was supposed to be a routine mission, not much different than the previous ones. Your team was supposed to take back some important documents, so you needed to infiltrate the hotel the guys who stole it were staying.

“I get it”, you whisper in the communication device.

But when you are about to leave the room, you hear the voices of two persons. You don’t have much time, so you decide to quickly hide under the bed, you wish there was a better place but all you can do is waiting here, praying they won’t notice your presence. However, it seems fate is not on your side tonight.

After maybe ten minutes of waiting that felt like an eternity, you eventually feel someone pulling you from under the bed by grabbing your legs. You may be a qualified agent, but they are way more experienced than you are. You were listening to their conversation but yet, you couldn’t have guessed they knew you were here the whole time. Racing heart and irregular breath are the signs of panic, but you can’t let those take the control of your body, fear is a synonym to death. Take a deep breath, think and attack before they can.

It is quite easy to escape the man’s grasp because he wasn’t expecting you to be so fast. But the man wasn’t the problem, it was the woman with him. She was aiming that gun at you while you were fighting with her mate, not shooting yet because she could’ve killed him instead, but as soon as you stand up, she doesn’t hesitate anymore.

It was a reflex.

She missed the first bullet because of the circumstances, because she couldn’t clearly target you so the bullet passed closed enough. Except she doesn’t look like someone that misses an easy shot and you don’t look like someone who wants to die so you shoot first.

It was a reflex.

It is the first you kill someone on duty. Three years of duty during whose you ensured that you wouldn’t kill anyone. You get them out of the way, you hurt them, sometimes you knock them out like you just did with that guy but you never took a life. But tonight you did, for the first time. Tonight, you didn’t aim for that woman’s leg but for her chest, right where her heart is, she died almost on the spot. It feels awful.

On the way back to the base, you are silent. Your teammates don’t even notice how quiet you are tonight. The two sitting on the front of the car are talking, the last one is humming some music. The mood is light because the mission was a success: you did bring back those documents. So why aren’t you joyful? You don’t know, but tonight you don’t feel like joking, laughing and jumping around as you usually would.

Tonight, you won’t celebrate with your mates because there is nothing to celebrate. A woman died. It doesn’t matter which side she was on or if she was aiming that gun at your head because you shoot and it makes you no better than the people you despise. When you joined the Academy, it was to save civilians, to make something good about your life, you wanted to feel useful and make a difference. So from the moment you became an agent, you avoid killing people. A part of you knew that, one day, wouldn’t let you choose but you didn’t think much about it; if after three years you didn’t kill anyone, it’ll may stay that way until you end your career.

Oh, how naive you were.

Maybe you are too gentle for that world. Your mates kill people and you never saw them hesitating, so what’s wrong with you? Can’t your mind just shut up? It is not that a big deal, is it? It is supposed to be your job, you did what you had to, right? So why does it still feel wrong?

You are a person that easily slip on other people’s shoes. Those people called villains are nothing more than people that got lost at a moment in their lives, people that were failed by the system or made a wrong choice, does it mean they deserve to die? Some of them, maybe, but definitely not that woman. She was barely older than you are, she had a whole life to live but she will never get you because of you, because you decided she didn’t deserve to live.

It is something your superiors often blame you for: your inability to shot when it is needed. It is not because it led to failed mission, but because it caused you a lot of injuries that could have been avoid. They never understood why you were so reluctant to do so, sometimes they are angry, sometimes just disappointed. But tonight you eventually did exactly what they are expecting from you. That’s what you are repeating to yourself but it doesn’t make you feel any better, if you hate the idea of disappointing Agent Romanoff, your superior, you probably hate your actual situation even more.

This moment is playing again and again on your mind, making you oblivious of your surrounding. The sound of her body falling is covering your mates’ voices. The way her chest raised one last time before she stopped moving, the way her eyes were wide open and the blood. Everywhere. On the ground, on her suit, on your hands. A bit of your own, but mostly of her, who knew a body contains so much blood? Not you.

When you are finally back at the compound, the redhead is here. Even if you are not a trainee anymore, you are still a rookie until they decide otherwise and she will probably be your mentor for a few more years. And being your mentor means that wherever you are, she is. Today was your first mission alone. Well, you weren’t really alone, you had your usual team by your side but she wasn’t here. At first, she didn’t want to let you go, wherever she is, you are, but she let herself be convinced. This mission couldn’t wait more, neither could the emergency call she got.

The mission was easier than some you did by the past, she knows you are capable but still, she can’t get over that strange feeling, being scared for you security. She knows she can trust you but can she really trusts your mates? She is stressing over the fact that, for the first time, she isn’t here to protect you.

She is now regretting her choice, it was irresponsible from her to agree to such a demand. She has no idea what exactly happened during the mission but she heard that things didn’t go as smoothly as they were supposed too. She is pacing back and forth on the garage, waiting for your team to come back. She tried to get more information from Fury, but he doesn’t know much more than what he already told her.

A few hours later, the team is eventually back. When her eyes catch you, she is relieved: you seem fine. Her relief only lasts a moment as she quickly notices something is off with your attitude. You ignored her, didn’t even looked for her as you would usually do.

“What happened?” she asks to one of the agents that was on the mission. She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to look at her, she is taking the whole situation seriously.

“She fired”, he replies, shrugging.

The man doesn’t really understand why it is such a big deal to you, after three years, you should be used to that kind of things happening in a mission. However, Natasha immediately understood.

She rushes to find you but it is already too late. She can’t find you on the locker room, neither she can on your dorm or on the common areas. It is on the shared bathroom that she eventually finds you. She can’t help but being worried. She was really young when she killed for the first time, but she still remembers how it feels, years don’t take away the guilt and the disgust. The difference is that she never got a chance to think too much about it, she was raised to kill, it felt almost normal after a while, she got used to that feeling You, however, are not of that kind. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are: you are not a murder.

“What are you doing?” she asks, frowning when she saw you here.

Scrubbing. That is what you are doing and the only thing left in your mind, you are just obsessed with the idea of cleaning your hands. So you are scrubbing. You are scrubbing until the water turns clear but it doesn’t, it stays red and bloody. It seems there is always more blood on your hands.

You are so focused that you didn’t even hear the woman coming in. Your ears are ringing and your vision is blurry because of the tears in your eyes, the only thing you can see clearly is the blood, all this red. You are using a nail brush in hope it would help you get it of the dirt? but it doesn’t. It just hurts.

A pain that you ignore.

A pain that you feel like you deserved it, like it is the only way to get those memories out of your mind, even if it is just for a moment, you are glad to be able to focus on something.

However, Natasha is not. As soon as she realizes what you are doing, she steps in. She turns the water off, wrapping her hands around yours to make you stop, as her attempts to talk to you failed. She slowly takes the soap and the brush from your hands, putting it on the sink.

For a few minutes, you remain silent. You don’t even dare to look at her in the eyes, how could you? The guilt and the shame make you avoid her gaze, a part of you being scared about what she could say or think. Maybe she sees you exactly as you do right now: pathetic and horrible.

“Let’s clean those wounds”, she eventually says in a quiet voice that surprises you because you thought she would be angry and yell at you. Or maybe it is what you wished she would do. It is easier to hate yourself when people do too.

But she doesn’t.

On the contrary, she is sweet and caring, an attitude that is rarely hers, Agent Romanoff not being someone showing that she cares the usual way. She is usually demanding with the people she cares for but she understands that tonight you don’t need that. Right now, what you need is someone by your side, someone to guide you through that situation.

So she makes you sit on a stool. You don’t protest, there is something good in not having to think about what to do next. She comes back with a few seconds later with medical kit. She sits in front of you and, in silence, she starts to take care of your hands. You scrubbed them for so long and with so much pressure that the blood at the end wasn’t the woman’s anymore. It was yours because the brush scratched your hands.

“Here we are”, she says once she is done. She cleaned your wounds with alcohol and then applied bandages on your hands. She seems to want to add something, but she hesitates. “Do you want to talk about it?” she eventually asks.

You shake your head, no. You don’t want to talk about it, you don’t want to hear about it, you don’t even want to think about what happened today. If it was possible, you would like to erase this day from your mind or turn back in time so you can change the outcome, but you can’t.

Natasha sighs but she doesn’t push, she knows it is not the solution. Instead, she guides you to her quarters.

“It is not my room”, you remark when you get here. It is a one person room, one of the privileges of being a superior.

“No, it’s not”, she acknowledges, “but I am not leaving your side.”

“You don’t need to do that, I am gonna be fine”, but she doesn’t let you go. As you try to leave the room, she firmly hold you by the arm. You staying here wasn’t a question, not even an invitation, it was more of an order.

“No, you are not. And after what happened I don’t trust you, at least not tonight”, she tells you and she is not joking at all. She has that serious expression and you know she won’t take no as an answer. You want to be alone, but deep down you are relieved you won’t spend the night alone.

She helps you take off your suit. She then helps you to put on some of her clothes, a short and a t-shirt, so you are ready to go to sleep. It is already late, midnight was long gone. She guides you to the bed, it is a bit small but it is just for one night and you don’t seem to protest, you just let her guide you, your mind being far away.

The two of you are leaning in the bed in silence. Her chest pressing against your back, her head near to yours. She is holding you firmly, as if she was scared you could run away. You stay in that position for a moment before your voice breaks the silence.

“I- I don’t even know her name, I barely saw her face and-” you eventually say, feeling the need to let a bit of what is in your mind out. You are exhausted, but you can’t even close your eyes to try to sleep, those memories and thoughts keeping you wide awake.

“it’s okay”, she whispers in your ear. She is not sleeping either, too worried about you for that. She already knows that she is going to stay awake the whole night to keep an eye on the woman she is holding in her arms.

“No!” you yell. You can’t stand how calm she is. “No it’s not, how could it be okay? I killed her. I killed a woman and I don’t even know who she was.”

“It happens, sometimes, you have no choice”, she continues to talk in a quiet voice, soothing you by stroking your hair. She knows nothing she could say right now would make it easier. You need time and support, all she can do is being here and let you know she is.

“I do, I should’ve aimed for her limb or…”, you start, but you can’t even finish your sentence. You feel your throat tighten, your voice broke on the last few words.

“You did exactly what you had to. You did exactly what you had to stay alive. I know it is hard but you will get through it, okay? And I am gonna be here, with you, the whole time”, she whispers again in your ear, her voice calming a bit the storm in you.

This is how you eventually fell asleep. In the comfort of the arms of that woman, with a feeling of security. The way her hand is brushing your hair calming your mind until Morpheus accepts you in his realm. The words she is whispering in your ears are helping to ease the guilt and the hate. However, Natasha won’t sleep. She is going to stay awake the whole night just so she can be here if you wake up needing her, no matter what time of the night it is, she wants to make sure you are not alone because it is the worst in situations like this.

[magicfootballstuff]

Price Tag (alessia russo x reader)

Summary: When Manchester United sign you for big money, it takes you a while to settle in. Luckily you have Alessia by your side to help you overcome your worries that you’re not worth the price they paid for you. 

———

You were one of the signings of the summer. 

You weren’t specifically looking for a move to the WSL - there was still a year left on your contract at PSV and you’re young enough that you figured there was no harm in waiting out that year before considering a move abroad. 

But then Manchester United came in with a big offer that neither you nor your old club could turn down and suddenly you were making all the headlines.

You’re mostly used to the pressure. You’re only twenty-one but you’ve been hailed as a star since you broke into the youth sides of the Dutch national team at the age of fourteen and already have nearly thirty senior caps to your name. An article that was published when you were sixteen called you ‘the next Vivianne Miedema’ and you’ve had a spotlight on you ever since. Until now, you’ve found it pretty easy to ignore the outside eyes and just focus on being the best footballer you can possibly be. 

But having your worth printed in black and white in every major sports column around Europe is a different kind of pressure.

You’re eased into the team gradually but your first few appearances are shaky. For the first time in your career you feel the need to prove yourself and it shows in the way you play. Gradually you get used to the style of play and what Marc wants from you, your nerves settle and you start more games. When you go through your stats with the trainers, it’s all good - you’ve got high rates for dribbles and tackles, you’ve created lots of chances and even got a couple of assists.

The one statistic you’re not happy with and the one that matters most is that your goal tally still stands at zero. Four months and still nothing. It’s not helped by the fact that everyone keeps saying that Manchester United have goal scorers all over the pitch, and they’re right. Maya bags two on her debut, the other new signings have all got at least a couple to their name, even defenders like Ona and Millie have scored. But you, the player with the biggest price tag, haven’t got a single one.

You try to put that right in the only way you know how - by practising long after everybody else has gone inside to get changed.

And that’s where Alessia finds you today, kicking ball after ball into the net on one of the training pitches.

“Hey,” Alessia greets you. She’s freshly showered and changed back into her normal clothes, and she continues, “I was wondering where you’d got to. A few of us are going out for lunch if you’re interested?”

You appreciate the invitation, but you can eat later. This is more important.

“Thanks, but I need to keep practising,” you reply.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody work as hard as you,” Alessia comments.

“Doesn’t matter how hard I work in training if there’s no end result in the game,” you respond, sending another football flying into the top corner of the net with a thwack of your boot against the leather.

“Is that what this is about?”

“Forget I said anything.”

Alessia hesitates as if she wants to probe further, but instead says, “Okay, well we’re leaving for lunch in about ten minutes. If you change your mind, just let me know and I’ll wait for you.

“Thanks,” you reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead as you fire the final ball into the net, before walking towards the goal to collect the balls for another round of shots. You can feel Alessia’s eyes burning into the back of your  head as you kick the balls back out to the edge of the eighteen yard box, but by the time you’ve collected them all, she’s already on her way back towards the main building.

———

The game against Everton ends goalless. You’re fuming, mostly with yourself. You played the first eighty minutes until you were subbed off and you had at least four or five chances to put the ball in the back of the net. Sure, the opposition goalkeeper pretty much had the game of her life, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to do better in front of goal.

You barely listen to Marc in the huddle after the game, and once he’s finished talking and dismisses you all, you can’t get off the pitch quick enough.

As you head inside, you lash out with your feet at an empty water bottle, sending the plastic clattering across the floor of the dressing room and startling a couple of your teammates in the process.

“Hey,” Alessia says, snaking a protective arm around your waist as she enters the changing room behind you, though it feels like her touch is to protect your surroundings from your temper more than anything else. “You’re not to blame for today’s result.”

“I could’ve scored,” you growl, as you sit down and start removing your boots and socks. “I had the chances. I should’ve fucking scored.”

“There were eleven of us on that pitch and none of the rest of us scored either,” Alessia points out with a shrug, sitting down beside you. “We’re all responsible for this, not just you.”

You don’t understand why she’s so nonchalant about the result. You were top of the league going into today’s match, now you’ve dropped vital points in a game that you should have won. It feels like the kind of game you’re going to look back on in a couple of months and think what if?

“Shooting practice tomorrow girls,” Mary jokes loudly, as she enters the dressing room and drops her gloves onto the bench.

You want to retaliate, maybe to throw your balled up socks at Mary or at the very least tell her to piss off, but something about Alessia’s presence at your side, her hand reaching out to touch your leg, stops you from lashing out.

———

Social media is a terrible place. You’re normally pretty good at blocking out the outside noise but when you’re already feeling shit and looking for any excuse to wallow deeper in self-pity, you go searching for the negative comments that just reinforce the idea that you’re not good enough.

It starts when the Manchester United social media pages post a clip of you from the Everton game. With no goals to shout about, they post a video of you twisting your way through two defenders and nutmegging a third as you pass the ball to Alessia on the edge of the box.

The comments are mostly positive - a few hearts and flame emojis and one person comparing you to a hurricane with the way you tore apart almost the entire Everton defence in the space of a few seconds, but then one comment in particular catches your eye.

Shame she can’t score. 

After that you get sucked into a downward spiral, actively seeking out the negative opinions of fans who reaffirm how you’ve been feeling recently.

Not worth the hype or the price we paid for her

Imagine spending that much on a striker who can’t score goals!

She needs benching. Not good enough to start for United!

We spent all that money and still drew against Everton 

And so it continues. 

Alessia finds you half an hour later, still dressed in your training top and shorts, sitting on the floor of the shower room as the water cascades over you.

You’d already been feeling very low, but now you can add embarrassment at being caught like this on top of your misery.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Alessia asks, rushing over to turn the shower off, before crouching down beside you. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I think I need to leave United,” you announce dramatically. 

“What? Why? What’s brought this on?”

“I’m not good enough. They spent a lot of money to bring me in and I bottle it every time I’m in front of goal. I’m not bringing anything to the team, the fans don’t like me…”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you there,” interjects Alessia. “You’re an amazing footballer. You’re fast, you don’t stop running until the whistle blows, some of the passes you see are just ridiculous. Do you remember my goal in the last cup game? Your assist for that was one of the most insane things I’ve ever seen. Don’t forget that you’re still young and this is your first season in a new league. For someone still adapting, I think you’re doing an amazing job.”

“It’s been five months and I still haven’t scored a goal.”

“Your goals will come, I promise. Something tells me that when you start scoring, you’re not going to be able to stop. Until then, just keep doing what you’re doing, working hard in training and showing the world how amazing you are.”

“The fans don’t think that,” you mumble.

“Is that what this is about?” Alessia asks, raising her eyebrows. “When I scored in the Euro semi final last summer, the first thing that went through my mind was ‘Thank god I scored that because otherwise people would crucify me for missing the first shot’. And do you know what? There were still people who ignored the goal and criticised me for missing a sitter. There’ll always be people who think you’re not good enough but are you really going to listen to anonymous people on the internet? There’s a reason why United wanted to sign you, a reason why Marc keeps playing you. You bring so much to this team. Plus, I think you’re pretty great. Does that count for anything?”

You shrug, Alessia’s words doing a little to lift you out of your total despair.

The wet clothes clinging to your body are cold, and you can’t help shivering. 

“Shit, you’re freezing,” Alessia says, when she notices you shudder. “Let’s get you dry, then I’m taking you out for food. My treat. Then tomorrow, if you really want, I’ll stay late with you after practice and we’ll do some shooting together. Okay?”

You let Alessia help you to your feet and she drapes a towel around your shoulders.

“Thanks, Less,” you say, through chattering teeth.

———

The international break comes at a good time. You’ve been playing alongside some of these girls for over seven years, you know your role and the style of play as well as you know your own name. You don’t have to worry about proving yourself and it helps - you get three goals and an assist across two games.

Alessia texts you after both games, despite being busy with her own training and matches for the Lionesses. She forwards you a clip of one of your goals - one where you receive the ball with your back to the goal, spin past a defender and then chip the keeper - and asks you to teach her how to do that.

The clip ends up on the Manchester United pages the next day and remembering the last time, as well as Alessia’s reminder that there will always be people who want to put you down, you stay well clear of the comment section.

The only comment that matters is Alessia’s, who shares it to her Instagram story with the caption ‘OUTRAGEOUS 😮‍💨😮‍💨’.

———

You’d been hoping to ride the wave of your international form as you return to Manchester United but you barely get the chance. Marc benches you for the next couple of games, only bringing you on late in the game when you have very limited opportunity to make a difference. United win both games comfortably and the doubtful part of your mind wonders if they won because you were dropped. Maybe Marc has finally realised that the fans on social media aren’t trolls after all, but people with the correct opinion that you’re not good enough for this team.

With the next game against title rivals Chelsea, you don’t have much optimism that you’ll be trusted to play this game, which is why nobody is more surprised than you to see your name listed on the team sheet as a starter. At the end of the meeting where Marc shares the team news, he dismisses everyone but asks you to stay behind for a minute.

“I know you were disappointed not to get many minutes in the last couple of games but you’re exactly the kind of player we need for this match,” he says, maybe sensing that you’re in the middle of a crisis of self-confidence. “Chelsea will be organised especially at the back and I want you to show me what you can do. Press everything, chase every ball. If I have to take you off after an hour because you physically can’t run any more, that’s fine. Just frustrate their defence like I know you can. That’s all I ask.”

———

The game plan works well in the first half, the only thing missing is the goal. You focus less on trying to get the goal yourself and instead concentrate on what Marc has asked of you. You can tell that the Chelsea defenders are still trying to figure out how to contain the way you link up with Alessia - each time they think they’ve got it, you switch things up and find another way to get the ball through to Alessia.

Against a lesser team, you’d definitely have scored by now. But Chelsea are reigning champions for a reason and have just about managed to keep you at bay, limiting Alessia to a couple of chances, plus one long range shot from a free kick. At the other end, the United defence has allowed Chelsea’s star-studded front line to have even less, and you go in at half time definitely feeling like this game is yours to win.

You’re not sure what was said in the Chelsea dressing room at half time, but three minutes into the second half they score. It’s the first mistake the Manchester defence have made all game but of course Kerr pounces on it and puts Chelsea ahead. 

You’re furious - not specifically at anybody on your team for conceding, but furious that you can fall behind so easily after looking the more likely team to go ahead.

“Fuck that,” you growl, as you walk with Alessia towards the halfway line for the restart. “I’m not letting Chelsea win after we dominated that first half.”

Alessia nods in agreement. 

“Keep doing what we did in the first half,” she says. “We’ll get back into this.”

Less than two minutes later you get the ball and drive it forwards to the edge of the box. There’s a defender right on you and the positioning is all wrong - you’re never going to find the goal yourself and you have just a split second to get the ball away before the defender tackles you, so you tap it through to Alessia, who outruns her own marker. The goalkeeper rushes at her and thinking about what you’d do in her situation, you expect her to take a risk and try to lift the ball over the keeper, but Alessia sees that you’ve continued your run into the box and you’ve now got an open goal in front of you so she passes sideways. The goalkeeper just misses the ball and you stretch out studs first, sliding across the grass as your toe makes contact with the ball and knocks it past the line.

You’ve scored some brilliant goals in your career so far but this isn’t one of them, a messy tap in made possible entirely by Alessia’s unselfishness when most probably would have gone for it themselves. But it’s your first United goal, finally off the mark after months of nothing, and all you can do is lie there on the grass and exhale in relief, closing your eyes and blocking out the roar of the crowd as you let the moment sink in.

A hand finds yours and you open your eyes to Alessia crouching over you, and you let her help you to your feet, then pull her into a celebratory hug.

“You did it,” Alessia says, beaming at you in delight, possibly the only person in the world who knows exactly how much this goal means to you. 

You think back to that moment in the shower room at the training ground, where you let your mind get to such a dark place that you’d half-convinced yourself that you needed to give up playing football entirely, and know that even if Alessia hadn’t been the one to assist your goal, it wouldn’t have been possible without her by your side.

“We did it,” you correct her. “Now let’s go do it again.”

You’re reinvigorated as the game restarts. Before, in the few minutes between the two goals, it was rage that drove you. Now you feel invincible. What a statement to level the game so quickly. You can tell the whole team feels it, and Chelsea are understandably rattled at how little time they held onto their lead.

The Manchester United team from the first half is back. The defence behind you stays solid which gives you the freedom to take a few risks yourself. You feel like the lead is just within your grasp when one glance at the bench, where a couple of substitutes are taking off their bright bibs tells you that you’re probably about to be taken off. Understandably so, you’ve pushed yourself so hard that you’re beyond the pain barrier now, but you feel like you have one last push in you.

With the ball at your feet, you drive forwards. The Chelsea defender takes her eye off you for half a second, checking where Alessia is as if she expects you to slot the ball through to her in the box like you’ve been doing all game. But you take advantage of that momentary lapse and switch the ball onto your stronger foot, then curl it round the defender, past the goalkeeper’s outstretched fingers, and into the top corner.

Your emotions after the first goal had been a combination of relief and disbelief and time passed too quickly for you to fully appreciate the moment, but you’re not going to make that mistake twice. Even after the ball has hit the back of the net, you continue your run, looping around to the section of Manchester United fans in the corner of the stadium with your arms held out wide in celebration, only turning around when you feel your teammates bundle into you from behind. 

Alessia finds you in the middle of it all, one hand coming up to either side of your head and her forehead resting against yours as she says, “That was unbelievable.”

As your teammates disperse, you turn back to the fans once more, gesturing with both hands for them to make more noise. They drink it right up and as you turn to jog back towards your starting position near the halfway line, you hear them starting to sing your name.

As expected, it’s only another couple of minutes before the board goes up to signal that you’re being substituted.

You walk the long way around to get back to the bench, behind the goal you’ve scored in twice, and cup your hand behind your ear as you pass the United fans, knowing they could be the difference between clinging onto the win or conceding a late equaliser. They love it and make plenty of noise, and you’re just enough of an asshole that you give the same gesture to the Chelsea fans too, earning you a nice loud boo.

When the final whistle blows without any more goals, you’re out of your seat and sprinting onto the pitch with the speed of somebody with fresh legs. You forget the agony you’ve put your body through and race straight over to Alessia, jumping on her as she lets out an unintelligible cry of victory.

You can’t remember ever feeling this much joy before. It seems ridiculous that just a few weeks ago you were feeling so low that you contemplated quitting football, leaving United, returning to the comfort of your native Netherlands. Moments like this are why you could never actually quit football, and there’s no team you’d rather do it with than Manchester United, no person you’d rather celebrate with at full time than Alessia.

After the huddle, you want to continue celebrating with your teammates and the fans, but you’re ushered away and presented with a player of the match trophy. In all honesty you don’t care about it, the three points and the miserable looks on the faces of the defeated Chelsea players are a much more rewarding prize than an individual award, but the television cameras are on you so you accept it gracefully and give a couple of lines about how proud you are of the team before they finally let you go.

You seek out Alessia again, who spots the trophy in your hands and grins at you, before you’re accosted for yet another interview, this time with the Manchester United media manager who wants to talk to you and Alessia together about the game.

You repeat what you told the Sky pundits about your love for this team and your teammates but let Alessia do most of the talking, barely able to keep your eyes off her. She’s glowing in the aftermath of the victory and completely professional in her answers. In comparison, you’re just distracted enough by Alessia’s radiance that you miss the start of another question directed at you and hope you can play it off as a language issue.

“Sorry, could you repeat?” you ask, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

“How much does it mean to score your first United goals in such an important match?”

“It means so much,” you answer. “I always want to play my best against every team but it definitely means a lot to help the team get the win against Chelsea and hopefully give the fans a performance they can be proud of.”

The interviewer turns back to Alessia and asks, “Alessia, how happy are you to see your teammate get her first two goals for the club?”

“I’m buzzing for her,” Alessia gushes. “What the fans don’t see is how much work goes in behind the scenes and nobody works as hard as this girl. Big games need big players and that’s exactly what she is.”

“Thank you and congratulations once again.”

With the interview over, you and Alessia return to the rest of your teammates. Kingsmeadow is rapidly emptying except for the section of away fans and while you’re still getting used to the passion of the Manchester United fans - your little shower meltdown after going too deep on social media is proof of that - they cheer as you approach and you lean into it, lifting your Player of the Match trophy aloft as you dedicate it to them and their support.

Alessia peels off to greet some of the fans closest to the billboards and you follow suit, signing a few shirts and posing for photographs until your cheeks ache from smiling.

Alessia finds you again as the stewards wrap things up and you walk back across the pitch towards the changing rooms. She’s just the right height to drape an arm around your shoulders and you melt into her embrace.

“Proud of you,” Alessia reminds you, as you enter the tunnel.

Your heart swells with affection for her, and perhaps still dizzy and delirious from the match, you stop in your tracks and turn to look at her.

“Less?”

“Yeah?” she asks, frowning at you curiously.

You fist a hand into the red material of her jersey and pull her in for the kiss you’ve been wanting to give her since she saved you from you own misery in the shower a few weeks ago. She lets out a little grunt of surprise, then relaxes into the kiss, her hands seeking out your waist as you slowly move your lips against hers.

After a few seconds, aware that while the tunnel conceals you from any lingering fans you’re hardly somewhere private, you pull back to catch your breath.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Alessia asks, sweeping a wild strand of hair out of your face.

“Believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself,” you shrug. “Also I’m definitely still high on adrenaline. That might have something to do with it.”

Alessia laughs.

“Better get you scoring more often then, if this is the result.”

“Yeah?” you grin at her.

Alessia’s arm winds around your shoulders again and she presses a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Is that incentive enough for you?”

You squeeze her waist, glancing down at the trophy still held in your other hand.

“Way better than winning one of these.”

[tsukimefuku]

Colleagues in arms

Nanami and Higuruma are dispatched on a mission together, having to conciliate their personal issues in order to get the job done.

tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, these two are a well coordinated duo, canon-typical violence.

wc: 3.7K

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) This is especially preceded by "Right, wrong and the in-between epilogue" here, and "Team Fighting", here.

Disclaimer: these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

There had been reports of a curse inside a government office used for safeguarding documents. The sheer bureaucracy to evacuate the few workers they had was enough of a hassle, delaying Nanami's and Higuruma's entrance.

That alone had rendered Nanami in a foul mood, given they'd only have around an hour and a half to exorcize this curse without incurring in overtime. 

He found that highly unlikely to happen.

"You should be aware that I will not be sacrificing myself or taking any damage in order to save your life, so be mindful when in battle" Nanami said, while he and Higuruma made their way inside the building, and Ijichi lowered a veil over them. Nanami was referring to all the occasions that you saved Higuruma to your own detriment, and the supposedly main reason he still held  resentment against the former lawyer.

To be fair, Nanami already questioned his luck when assigned this mission to shepherd on Higuruma, considering all the available options to accompany the former curse user other than himself.

Higuruma looked at him, and replied indifferently, "same to you, so perhaps we both shouldn't put ourselves in harm's way." 

Nanami sighed and looked at his wristwatch. One hour and 26 minutes remaining for the end of his shift. 

"So, this is common for jujutsu sorcerers? Having to exorcize curses inside government run buildings?" Higuruma asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I couldn't say. I don't pay much mind to that, specifically."

"Hm. And how often the work of a jujutsu sorcerer is related exclusively to exorcizing a curse, not involving curse users or other cursed energy related events?"

"I'd say about 90% of the times we're dispatched for a mission, it ensues solely exorcizing a cursed spirit" Nanami noted.

Higuruma huffed, seemingly amused with something, and began speaking again. "From what I've been told, curses just keep spawning as long as there is cursed energy leaking from non-sorcerers, right?"

"That is correct."

"So, are we Sisyphus?" Higuruma finally asked.

Slightly entertained by the commentary, Nanami decided to indulge it. "Constantly pushing the same boulder uphill, just to have it fall over and push it up again the next day? Yes, one could say that we are doing Sisyphus deeds."

"And all that while risking our death or the death or of our colleagues every time there is a curse to be exorcized?"

"Yes."

"Ah, this is idiotic work. Jujutsu sorcerers are idiots" the former lawyer replied, absentmindedly.

Nanami looked at him as he said that, nearly forgetting his distaste for the man for a moment.

"Interestingly enough, I've been saying the same thing for years."

***

“They’re what now?” You asked again, as Shoko slid her fingers on her phone’s screen, completely unbothered.

“They went together on a mission today. Since it was in a particularly important building that definitely should not withstand a lot of damage, Yaga didn’t want to send you to shepherd on Higuruma, because, I mean, you know” Shoko said, motioning an explosion with her hands right after, alluding to your cursed technique. "So you're stuck with me for the day."

“Oh, damn” you sighed to yourself, picking up your phone to text both men. From your last accidental joint mission, you remembered Nanami had a distaste for Higuruma. The situation had been like this ever since you got severely injured due to the former lawyer’s irresponsibility on the battlefield, and the 7:3 sorcerer certainly knew how to hold a grudge. 

"What?” Shoko asked.

“I mean, Nanami hates Higuruma ever since the poisoning debacle.”

“Oh, he does?” Shoko asked, looking at you and smiling, something else behind it beyond simple amusement. “It figures.”

“Huh? Figures? Why?” 

“Never mind” she said, brushing you off. "But why are you worried, anyway? It's not like they'll fail this just because they don't like each other. Nanami is a great sorcerer, and the lawyer guy seems to be at least a decent one."

"They'll probably headbutt their way through this" you sighed.

"Why are you so insistent that they get along, anyway?" She inquired.

"Well, first of all, Nanami is a close friend. Beyond that, Higuruma is also becoming a good friend, and I like the people I consider important in my life to get along. They'd be good friends if they got over their differences, that's all."

"'Close friend', huh?" She asked, grinning.

"Shoko, leave me alone" you replied, looking at her with a sour face, while you stepped out of the room, phone still in hand.

***

Nanami and Higuruma felt their phones vibrating at the same time.

Higuruma pulled it from his pocket to check it out, and saw a text message from you that said 'I hope your mission goes well today, try making new friends other than me'. He smiled and put it away.

"It is not advisable to check our phones when on duty, it can be a problematic distraction" Nanami pointed out, while they took the stairs to investigate each floor, one at a time. It would take some time, though, considering there were five floors, and they were still on the second.

"I believe I heard your phone, too" Higuruma replied.

"My phone did receive a message, yes" the other sorcerer replied.

"Well, I guess it's something you'll want to read, that's all."

Higuruma suspected you'd be up to antics like these, and he particularly knew how to poke curiosity into people, even the most stoic of them. Those such as his current mission partner.

Nanami held the urge to roll his eyes at himself, realizing the bait had worked on him. He pulled his phone quickly from his pocket, only to see a message from you. Upon reading it, the message just said 'please, be nice'. The man sighed heavily, and could hear Higuruma huff an almost chuckle.

"It's her, isn't it?" He inquired.

"It is" the ratio sorcerer answered, putting his phone away. "What did she send you?"

"She wished me a good day and told me to try 'making new friends'. And you?"

"She told me to be nice" Nanami replied as he involuntarily sighed, yet again, feeling his chest flattening.

"I have a deal, if it would interest you" Higuruma told Nanami, "given that it is evident she wants us to get along, and you still don't like me. It will take her off our backs."

Getting reeled in and completely aware of that, Nanami asked, "and what would that deal entail?"

"You tell me why you dislike me, I get a chance to make a statement myself, and if we still don't get along, we might just pretend we do just to get her off our case. I'd appreciate that a lot." 

Higuruma knew full well that Nanami disliked him, and the ratio sorcerer, on the other hand, made no effort whatsoever to actually conceal his dislike for him. However, ever since the conversation the three of you shared about how important the Jujutsu Society potentially was, as flawed as it had always been, he'd grown to at least respect Nanami.

"Would you?" Nanami pretended to ponder for a second. "How unfortunate, then."

Higuruma sighed. "I'm disappointed, but not surprised."

They were both engulfed in silence until stepping up the metal stairs towards the third floor.

"I'll just probe you, then" the former lawyer stated, completely out of the blue, having Nanami grunt lowly in discontentment. He realized the 7:3 sorcerer was someone he'd be able to derive answers from by eliciting in Nanami the urge to correct anything he deemed to be a wrong statement.

Nanami entertained the idea of losing Higuruma inside the building and exorcizing the curse on his own, if even for a moment.

"Well, first of all, I believe you dislike me because I'm a former curse user" Higuruma began. Nanami stayed silent, so he proceeded, "and I also think your dislike stems from the occasion she was poisoned after our third mission, you two seem like close friends."

"She was poisoned due to your irresponsibility, you should add."

"Due to my irresponsibility, yes. But since then, I've apologized and improved. Also, there's a piece of information that I've learned from Shoko."

They were rounding the last corner on the third floor before proceeding to take the stairs again.

"And what would that be?" Nanami asked him, pushing his glasses into place.

"This wasn't the first time she was bedridden for aiding someone on the field. The same thing happened before, and from what I've been told, she was protecting you in that instance."

That definitely got under Nanami's skin, even if his impassive facade remained unwavering.

"Is that so?" He began. "You must've learned, also, that it wasn't due to recklessness on my end, but due to unforeseen circumstances during our mission that made her sacrifice the best alternative in place."

"If you could have stopped her, even considering her decision was the best at that moment, would you have done so?" Higuruma asked, looking directly at the other sorcerer.

Nanami stayed silent for a few moments. "Yes, I would."

"Me too. I'd prefer taking the hit."

Nanami looked at Higuruma, slightly caught off guard. The other continued to speak. 

"Unfortunately, that woman does what she wants, and we're left to deal with it" Higuruma answered, looking forwards. "We are in a more similar situation than you'd like to admit, so my current hypothesis is that's precisely the reason you dislike me. Am I remembering you about your own guilt from that event?"

Nanami chose to be silent, as he was having flashbacks from you probing him like a relentless little devil. He felt a small surge of nostalgia and annoyance at that, simultaneously.

Maybe Higuruma was more akin to you, after all.

They rose through the stairs towards the third floor, and still no sign of the curse, or remnants from cursed energy that could be used as leads. Nanami noticed it, given he knew how unusual that was.

"So, is this normal? Not bumping into anything throughout the entire vicinity, or most of it, when looking for a curse?" Higuruma asked the ratio sorcerer, almost as if reading his mind.

"No, it definitely is not. We should be on high alert from now" Nanami replied, pulling his blunt blade from his back. Following suit, Higuruma manifested his gavel on his hand, having it being around the size of a katana.

Rounding the last corner and walking down the hall towards the stairs, they finally felt the cursed energy emanating from the fifth floor. 

"Go ahead, I'll follow your lead" Higuruma said to Nanami, much to the latter's surprise. Apparently, you had been training Higuruma on coordinating with other sorcerers when in joint missions, and he clearly learned some things.

Nanami nodded and proceeded to go upstairs, just to be met by a passage closed with vines. Their cursed energy, though, was very faint, what would explain why neither him nor Higuruma had sensed the cursed spirit's presence. It felt almost like a non-cursed entity.

Using his blunt blade, Nanami struck a 7:3 critical hit on the vines, tearing them apart completely. On the last floor, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all completely covered in leaves, flowers and branches, and the flowery humid smell was overpowering.

Both sorcerers stepped inside, and the vines behind them closed the path back down again.

Nanami began walking in front of Higuruma, and stopped every thirty to forty steps or so in order to make a cursed energy marking over the vines where the walls should be. 

Remembering Higuruma was still somewhat new to this job, he thought it would be a good idea to explain what he was doing, if only for the man to learn something.

"I'm currently leaving breadcrumbs as we walk" Nanami began, "because this curse has covered the entire floor. Curses and cursed techniques are able to, sometimes, bend time or space, so-"

"So you're making sure this one isn't putting us in some sort of spatial loop, or has broken physics." Higuruma interjected. "Making cursed energy markings is the best way to do so, since these vines regenerate and would easily cover any other thing, like an object, for instance. The cursed energy markings leave remnants that we can feel in case they get covered up."

Nanami was pleasantly surprised at how quickly Higuruma was able to grasp the workings of jujutsu sorcery and curse exorcising.

"I see you have been dedicating some time to learn about the work of jujutsu sorcerers."

"Of course. This is the way forced on me to atone for my crimes. I should at least try to be the best I can be at it."

***

They had been trying to cut the curse down to shreds for at least thirty minutes. However, every time they did, the curse instantly grew back, covering every area on the fifth floor.

The cursed energy markings, however, had not disappeared or shifted places, proving that neither of them was stuck inside a spatial loop, just dealing with a very annoying curse.

Even though there was a desire to preserve the integrity of the building's internal structure, which stopped Nanami from using his collapse technique, the sorcerer asked himself if it wasn't better to just have you called instead of him and Higuruma. Your cursed technique would be a much better fit for this, especially when using the corrosive type of grenades.

"They should've called her, she'd melt these things in no time" Higuruma said, sitting on the ground to rest a little before coming up with another plan other than trying to blunt force all the vines away.

"Hm, I was just thinking the same thing" Nanami replied, "but apparently they couldn't, because this is a place used by the government to keep records of some sort. They couldn't risk having it destroyed."

"So, let's take some time to come up with a plan?" Higuruma asked. Nanami checked and about forty minutes had passed, to which he sighed.

"Why do you keep checking your watch?"

"Because my shift should be over by 6 PM, and I loathe having to work overtime."

Higuruma sighed, scratching his forehead. "You're probably right."

They were both silent for a moment, before Nanami began speaking again.

"How does your domain expansion work?" This was the first time that Nanami actually spared some time to ask Higuruma about his cursed techniques, and the former lawyer was a little surprised his colleague actually asked him about it.

"Well, it was the first thing I ever manifested. My domain expansion is an extension from what I used to work with before becoming a curse user, and later on a jujutsu sorcerer. My shikigami puts my opponent on trial. The target gets to make a statement, I do a rebuttal, and then Judgeman issues its sentencing. The options are absolution, confiscation and death penalty. The last one turns my gavel into a sword that can kill or exorcize anything upon immediate contact. But the tried one has to be sentient, so I don't think I could do it against this curse, it barely resembles a curse." 

"Your domain was the first thing you manifested?" Nanami asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yes. Is that uncommon?"

"Very. I don't have a domain expansion, just like most sorcerers."

"Oh, I didn't know" Higuruma admitted.

Nanami sighed for a moment, knowing they'd be stranded there for a while, before asking, "how did it happen?"

He had finally become curious about his colleague, after realizing the man wasn't such a bad sorcerer after all, and found that conversing with him was actually interesting. They had to take a break after all, to come up with some plan in order to exorcize this pest of a curse.

"Well, I had a client that was innocent. The evidence in his favor was abundant. He got a favorable verdict the first time around, but then, after the prosecution appealed, his innocence verdict was overturned, basically because neither judge nor prosecutor were actually trying to administer justice. They simply wanted to appease the media. I was so incredulous and angry that my cursed technique manifested in the Courtroom, and-"

Higuruma took a breather.

"And I killed them both of them out of my own volition. That's all. Then I just went around Morioka exorcizing curses until she found me and brought me to Tokyo." He sighed. "Did you know Japan has a 99% conviction rate? It's... It was hard, trying to fight a loosing war. By the end, it also felt like pushing a boulder uphill over and over again, except I rarely reached the peak of the mountain."

Nanami could sympathize, having been someone chewed by jujutsu sorcery and, for some time, corporate cogs himself.

"What about you? You left jujutsu sorcery for a while, from what I could understand."

Nanami sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose before continuing. "I did. I worked for a an over-the-counter brokerage house as soon as I left Jujutsu High."

"Really? Which one?"

After Nanami answered the name, Higuruma scoffed.

"When I was in law school, they plucked students out of the classroom like weeds in a field."

"Is that so?" Nanami inquired.

Higuruma nodded. "The ones that went there were basically the people that went to law school for money." 

Nanami let out an almost chuckle at that. He wasn't the only one on that sprint, after all.

Higuruma was silent for a moment, before proceeding. "Why did you come back?"

"Because even though I thought jujutsu sorcery was idiotic when I left, and still do, I discovered that a 9 to 5 job is just as idiotic. Out of the two idiotic things I could do, I chose the one I'm better at."

"Hm" Higuruma hummed, tilting his head as he looked at Nanami.

"What?" The ratio sorcerer asked.

"Doesn't ring very true, no offense. You don't seem like the utilitarian type to that degree" the former lawyer answered.

"What do you mean?"

"You look like you actually care" Higuruma replied.

"Hm, interesting. You're the second person to tell me that."

***

After chatting for a while, Nanami and Higuruma had come to the conclusion that the curse would probably have a main core from where the vines stemmed from, and began following them to find the source. 

The vines were all leading towards an office right in the middle of that floor, which was completely closed from the outside by a considerably thick wall of branches. Nanami quickly opened their passage way, striking a hit with his blunt blade, and both sorcerers darted inside the room before the vines closed off once again.

Now inside, they could see right in the middle of the office a towering silhouette from where all the vines were probably stemming from. 

Right after they entered, some vines lifted from the ground, and began whipping in their direction.

Nanami fended off most of the blows that came at him with his blunt sword, meanwhile Higuruma did the same with his gavel, now turned into a blade to sever the ends of the tendrils as he did so. Both sorcerers were back to back with each other, and made their way slowly towards the curse's core.

Unexpectedly, one vine wrapped around Nanami's foot, knocking him down on the ground. Higuruma was quick to notice, and swiftly cut the tendril, freeing his colleague. Upon reaching his arm to help Nanami up, a new vine darted towards the ratio sorcerer as he rose, being instantly cut by Higuruma's free hand before it could ever reach the other sorcerer. 

"Are you okay?" The former lawyer asked, resuming their back to back stance. 

"Yes. Thank you" Nanami answered. He was fairly impressed as to how Higuruma was carrying himself in the field, being attentive to his partner in battle, and reaching out when needed. "Did you train fighting alongside other sorcerers recently?" 

"No, I danced!" Higuruma answered, smiling, as he saw an opening dashed towards the core.

What? Nanami didn't understand what Higuruma was referencing, and followed him to finish exorcizing this curse. 

Both sorcerers hit the core at the same time, destroying most of it.

The remainder of the core, as well as the vines, began dissipating slowly, and after a short while, there was no trace of the cursed left spirit behind. 

Upon checking his watch, right after getting into the car with Higuruma, Nanami saw that there were 5 minutes left to 6 PM, and felt incredibly pleased.

"So, no overtime?" Higuruma asked, half jest, as he smiled.

"No overtime" Nanami answered, smiling discreetly.

"So, where are you two headed now?"

"I think I could use something to eat. Not dinner, but maybe a snack" Higuruma answered, absentmindedly. He then asked Ijichi to drop him off at an address that Nanami found to be familiar.

"There's a bakery there" he noted, looking at Higuruma.

Higuruma nodded, "yes. I really like their coffee, but the best thing they sell is the ciabatta with pesto and cured ham."

"I know that bakery. That really is their best sandwich. It's the perfect fit for salty and bitter when eaten with coffee" Nanami stated. 

"I know, right? It's my usual when I go there."

Nanami seemed to ponder for a moment.

"I believe I might join you before heading home" the ratio sorcerer said, looking at his watch. "After all, it's still early, thankfully."

Higuruma's phone vibrated, and he picked it up.

There was a message from you, asking how was your mission? Did you make new friends?

"Is it her?" Nanami inquired.

"Yes. She asked me if I made new friends" he retorted, amused. "So, did I?" Higuruma then questioned, looking at Nanami.

Nanami looked back at him for a moment, before answering, "a colleague".

"Fine, then" the former lawyer concluded, before putting his phone back in his pocket, and extending his hand to Nanami. "Colleagues in arms?"

Nanami looked at him for a second, before acquiescing to the handshake. "Colleagues in arms."

[lahooozaherr]

Chick at a Rock Concert

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x Fem!Agent!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.8k

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNT WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: You’re a Kingsman agent and tag along for a mission at a music festival, looking for a distraction after the lingering loss of your fellow agents. Jack takes immediate notice of you, sparking a mutual attraction between the two of you. When he’s rejected by the “chick at a rock concert”, you take the opportunity to spend the day with him. That day leads into a night of even more fun.

Warnings: fem!reader, soft dom!Whiskey, age gap sorta (Age not specified for reader, Jack’s ego is just bruised), daddy kink if you squint (Jack refers to himself as it a few times, no hard feelings if you wanna just replace the word in your head because this isn’t a ddlg dynamic), praise kink, smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, soft turning into rough sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, pet names, no physical description of reader and “festival outfit” is left vague, smol amount of angst

A/N: I’m ngl this is pretty self indulgent. It’s been a brain rot simmering in my head for a few weeks. I just have a feeling Jack would go nuts over someone who tries to match his energy while wearing one of those sexy music festival outfits lol. Jack is one of my faves and I hope I’m able to do him justice. I’ve debated making this a one shot series or something to weave into the story of the movie but we’ll see lol. I did my best to keep the reader’s “backstory” vague. This is also my first smut, so kind-of practice for when I get to that point in my current Mando WIP. Also not beta read :D

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Read it on AO3

The mission was pretty simple, and you probably weren’t needed for it. But the previous days for you and your very few remaining Kingsman peers had been a disaster, to say the least. You volunteered to come along, knowing it was at a popular music festival. It was still work but it was also the small “break” you needed to have a moment away from the grief and sadness over losing so much. You just needed something, anything, to help forget for the time being.

You picked out a cheeky festival outfit, not uncommon for these kinds of events. Might as well try to blend in, you told yourself. Weaving through the crowd, you set to find Eggsy through the sea of eccentric festival goers.

—

Eggsy had too much on his mind and was reeling from the current realization of how this mission was about to go down. Agent Whiskey demonstrated with his fingers and a subtle explanation of how to plant the tracking device on the target.

“Where is that other agent of y’all’s?” Whiskey asks, an undertone of annoyance in his voice as he takes a swig of his flask.

Eggsy stops walking, “she should be meeting with us any minute now. She told me she’s here already.”

Whiskey and Eggsy, while looking for you, had also spotted the mission's target. A woman lounging at one of the many outdoor bars of the event. Eggsy’s heartbeat quickens, he’s dreading every minute of this. But this mission is too important and he knows that.

Jack scoffs, “takin’ her sweet time, our girl is right over there.”

“Ah! There she is!” Eggsy shuts Whiskey down. Before he can continue to complain, he looks up towards you. His jaw hangs a little after Eggsy points you out as you stride towards them.

This was your first time physically meeting Whiskey, despite technically being in the same room as the “meeting” with Statesman’s leader, Champ. But you didn’t have glasses at the time that would allow you to see a projection of him in his seat. You couldn’t help but stare back at him as you got closer to the two.

Ginger warned you about him when she helped you set up for this mission. Telling you he’s a huge flirt and will likely make a pass at you. You didn’t exactly mind though, you weren’t afraid of a flirtatious encounter. You requested to read his file and after doing so, you really felt for him. You wanted to see the good in others, to understand them. And based on his past you could tell he’s been through a lot, and it’s probably complicated. You could at least empathize with him.

Aside from that, what’s wrong with wanting to have some fun? Maybe you both could help each other forget, just a little bit.

He drank in the sight of you in the outfit you’d chosen, and suddenly you were not regretting it because you could tell. You found yourself doing the same to him. He’s attractive, broad shouldered and golden skinned. He wore a Stetson, white T-shirt, leather jacket and jeans that did a beautiful job of capturing the shape of his slender hips and legs. A sharp nose and jawline, clean shave save for pouty lips with a perfectly groomed mustache atop them.

Approaching them, you sigh, “so sorry to make you guys wait, this place is packed!”

Whiskey seemed to be momentarily frozen until Eggsy breaks the silence with a clearing of his throat. He introduces you to him by your code name and actual name.

“And uhm, this is Agent Whiskey-“

“Jack. Jack Daniels.” Cutting Eggsy off while taking a large step towards you, not hiding the way his eyes take a quick look at you, up and down. He holds his hand out for you and you take it with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” Hearing you choose to use his actual name sends a thrill through him. A grin creeps across his lips, “darlin’, the pleasure is all mine.” He lifts your hand to his lips to leave a small, chaste kiss. You can’t help but giggle, both at the act and Eggsy giving a very exaggerated eye roll from behind him.

Jack’s eyes are a dark, chocolate brown and you don’t break the eye contact he maintains with you. They almost sparkle.

“Anyways, our target is right over there.” Eggsy interjects. Jack jerks upright and clears his throat, letting go of your hand.

Jack takes a swig of his flask, “watch and learn, buddy.” He puffs his chest and struts towards the bar.

————————————————————————-

Watching Jack get rejected like that was…rough, to say the least. You couldn’t help but quietly snicker, watching Eggsy so swiftly capture the attention of the woman away from Jack’s failed attempt at hitting on her.

He frowns deeply and glares, walking away. You decide it’s safe to let Eggsy take the reins and catch up to Jack.

“I’m not going to lie, that was a little hard to watch,” you say to him. He stops walking and looks at you, unamused. You shrug it off and continue, “that’s ok though. Why don’t we enjoy the festival?”

Jack lets out a deep sigh and turns his head, “darlin’, you don’t want to hang out with an ‘old man’ like me.” The way he says the words “old man” is a mocking echo of what Eggsy had called him in front of that woman. Dang, he took that pretty personally. You imagine you probably would too, if you were in his shoes.

You decided to take this opportunity to rekindle the flame on that brief “chemistry” you had with him earlier. You boldly insert one of your arms into his elbow.

With a lilt in your voice, batting your lashes at him you say, “I prefer men who are experienced, anyways.”

That seemed to do the trick of snapping him out of this small depressive slump. That sparkle returned to his eyes and his smile widened, revealing his perfect white teeth.

“Oh sugar, I can be that and more.” He wraps his free hand around yours in the crook of his elbow and you both continue on into the crowd.

—————————————————————————

At some point, after wandering for a bit, you both found a space in the grass field, a far distance out from one of the stages. Both of you are lounging and basking in the sun. Hours had passed before you had realized it, the two of you were too distracted by each other and your conversation to even notice.

Jack’s personality was provocative, fiery and passionate. His cheesy pick up lines worked on you, in a way. He took joy in sharing interesting stories he kept up his sleeve that hooked your attention. He described various close calls he’d had in the field, especially from when he was younger. You listened intently and never broke away from him.

He laid out on his back, arms braced behind himself in the grass. Next to him, you’d opted to rest on your front, propped up on your elbows and your legs kicked up behind you. The angle giving him a front row seat to your cleavage.

Here and there you’d notice the way he’d look you up and down, but you preened under his gaze. There was an obvious attraction between the two of you and neither of you tried to hide it.

When you were deep in telling your own story, one that caused you to shift into sitting on your bottom, he took one of your hands in both of his large hands. He rubbed his thumbs across your knuckles and carefully inspected your palm and fingers, absentmindedly, as you spoke.

You let out a deep sigh, “spending time with you today has been a breath of fresh air, thank you.” That might have come out more sentimental than you intended but life has been a wild ride lately. “I don’t know whether I’m going up or down anymore….”

Jack’s facial expression softens and he squeezes your hand in one of his, “anytime, darlin’. In some ways, I’ve been in your shoes before. It never gets easier.” His tone was even and more serious. You knew he understood. It comes with the type of job you’ve both found yourselves in.

“However,” you start, “I’m thankful we found the Statesmen. I don’t know what we’d be doing if it weren’t for you all. I don’t know if finding who did this will fill the hole in my heart but something has to be done.”

Jack sits up and leans towards you, “a hole in your heart, huh?”

Your face heats up, “I-I mean, that’s the best way I can describe it I guess.”

“No no, I understand. I’ve just never heard it put that way….” He pauses, his eyes briefly drift off and then come back to yours. His other hand reaching to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, a shiver runs up your spine. You’ve lost yourself in his eyes and never want to come back up for air.

“Don’t you worry, sugar. We will make things right.”

—————————————————————————

This mission ended up being pretty easy, at least for the two of you it did. You felt bad for Eggsy. Jack later explained how and WHERE the tracker had to be placed, and you could imagine the inner turmoil that that had caused. Or even worse, the possible relationship problems it could cause for him.

When Jack described to you what he had told Eggsy to do with the tracker, your face heats up. Jack on the other hand, winked and flashed a white toothed grin. He had assumed he would be the one doing the deed but it looked like the universe had other plans, and you certainly didn’t mind.

The bright, sunny day had started to fade into night. The sky progressed from a beautiful orange sunset into a deep purple. Some stars could be seen above the continuing hustle and bustle of the festival. You hadn’t heard from Eggsy since leaving him and you started to grow concerned. Standing off to the side of one of the festival's exits, you called him. Jack stood near you, hands on his hips as he waited.

Your call to Eggsy goes to voicemail and just as you’re about to hang up and try again, you get a text notification from him.

It’s done, I’ve let Ginger know. I’ll meet back up with both of you tomorrow.

You read this aloud so Jack could hear, he rolls his eyes and shrugs. You snicker, “are you really still bitter about him stealing your thunder?”

“Hey now….” He gently grabs your elbows and brings you close to him. Wrapping one hand around your waist and the other pinching your chin and stroking from your cheeks to your jawline. His eyes meet yours and they’re dark, reflecting his growing hunger. Whatever sass you were about to quip out immediately evaporates, leaving you a melting mess in his arms. Your own breath slowed and you returned his gaze under fluttering lashes.

His voice dips an octave and he stares deeply into your eyes, “Ol’ Jack never lost his thunder.” A shiver runs up your spine once again and you smile bashfully. Your eyes drifted to the side in an attempt to hide the flustered heat on your face. He hums, using his thumb and forefinger to delicately redirect your eyes back to his.

“Don’t hide from me.”

After a day full of flirting and building sexual tension, you make a snap decision. Bringing your arms up and draping them around his neck, chest against his. You hold his gaze a few seconds more while he adjusts his hands to sit on either side of your waist.

“Well then, Cowboy,” you say, echoing back the same low, husky tone. “Would you say ‘mission accomplished’?”

Jack hums in amusement, happy to see you rise to his challenge.

“Not yet, sugar. Still haven’t hooked up with a chick at a rock concert.”

It feels like a burst of butterflies in your stomach. Heat pooling in your stomach and thankful his hands are on you because otherwise you feel like you’d float away.

You flash him a sultry grin, “I think I can make that happen.” His face brightens as you shift your hands down from his shoulders to his firm pecs. His large hands explore up and down your back, his body is warm and inviting. You could smell the musk of his chosen cologne for today. Touching him like this after a day full of passive brushes and small gestures felt like finally drinking water in a parched desert.

“But on one condition,” you add, lowering your voice.

Jack quirks an eyebrow at you, “tell me, beautiful.”

Your eyes flick up to his hat and back down to him, his eyes following you. You maneuver yourself closer to his head, bringing your lips close to his ear.

“I want to wear your hat while I ride you,” you whisper.

The next thing you hear is a deep growl erupting from his chest. In one swift move he has one hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss. You mutually feel like a dam has finally broken.

The kiss is long as you both exhale and hum into each other’s mouths. He licks into your mouth and in return you gently bite his bottom lip, almost sending him into a frenzy.

Jack, almost painfully unlatches himself from you. His eyes meet yours, dilated and blown out on lust. A dark chuckle escapes his mouth and he pins you close to him with both hands behind your neck, using his thumbs to balance your jaw. The act itself sends arousal coursing furiously through your veins. You’re going to be a puddle before you can even leave the festival.

Jack grabs your hand and leads you alongside him, back to his Bronco. You both run and giggle like teenagers in love trying to sneak around. When you approach his car, he opens his passenger side door and lets you in. He dashes to the driver's side and buckles in.

With one hand on the steering wheel, he uses the other to wrap around you and bring you close to him, buckling you into the middle seat. Then, with smooth precision, he reverses out of his space and makes his way out of the parking lot and towards his hotel.

—————————————————————————

Jack’s Bronco screeches to a halt in the driveway of the hotel. Within seconds he exits and is at the passenger side letting you out.

He wraps his arm around you and brings you close into his side as he walks towards the entrance. His hand gives the meat of your thigh a small grip and you yelp. Jack throws his keys to the valet boy and struts inside.

Once at the elevator, Jack scans a key that sends it to the private suite up top. Of course he would have a private, fancy suite you think to yourself. You both enter the elevator, his hand on the small of your back guiding you in.

Once the doors closed, you’re on each other. A flurry of gnashing teeth and grabbing hands. He pushes you against the corner of the elevator with both hands on your waist. You wrap both arms around his neck, one hand stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, using his body to balance you.

His hand trails upward to grip the back of your neck, threading through the hair that grows there. He breaks away from your lips, using his grip to carefully tilt your head back, exposing your neck. Trailing heated kisses up and down, murmuring in between each.

Jack’s going to treat you right, don’t you worry babydoll.

I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.

You had been thinking about this all day too, unashamedly.

You moan when feeling his pelvis grind up against you. He’s already very hard and the sounds he pulls from you only serve to excite him further. Just as he’s about to slip a hand underneath the hem of your shirt, the elevator dings and opens up into the suite.

The hotel suite is massive. A living room with a kitchen to the side. Further in is a doorway to the suite’s master bedroom. The trip there becomes a mix of kissing, groping, and removing articles of just your clothing one by one until you’re brought to the edge of the bed wearing only your bra and panties. Looking around the room you see it break off into an open, large bathroom with a claw foot tub and glass door shower.

The back of your knees hits the edge of the mattress, with Jack gently pushing into you as you sit. Your hands come up to undo his belt buckle, but his hands grab yours to stop you.

“Not yet, gorgeous,” he says with a husky tone. “Daddy’s going to have his way with you first.”

You’ve decided you will never get tired of the nicknames. They cause your heart to hammer in your chest and you love every second of it.

Your arms drop back to your sides on the bed. Jack licks his lower lip and leans over to reach behind you to unlatch your bra. Once it’s free, he slowly slips it off your shoulders and discards it to the side.

He proceeds to gently guide you to lay on the bed. His hands grab under your knees to bring your legs up, feet resting on the bed. Finally, he loops both forefingers into the sides of your panties and pulls them off, joining your bra on the floor. Following that is his leather jacket.

Standing up straight and resting one hand on each of your knees, he pauses. His eyes rake you over and he hums.

“Lemme get a good look ‘atcha.”

The sight of you beneath him, naked and vulnerable, is downright breathtaking to him. Your breathing is heavy, your eyes hooded and lips parted and swollen. He’s proud to have been able to rile you up like this. He grabs his Stetson off his head and sets it on the other corner of the mattress.

Watching him look you over sends a buzz through your body and centers on your core. However, you need his touch, right now.

“Jack, please….”

“Please, what?” Thumbs tracing the inner sides of your knees. “Tell me, gorgeous.”

“T-touch me…” You manage to stutter out. “Please touch me, right now.”

Immediately, Jack drops to his knees on the floor and grips your thighs to scoot your bottom to the edge of the bed. He leaves small kisses on your inner thighs making his way to your heat. He goes right into it, flattening his tongue and running it up your folds. One hand reaches up to massage your breast, rolling his thumb over your nipple. You bite your lip in response.

It feels like a shock to your system, sending slick to gather between your thighs. Back arching, soft pants as you send a hand down to card through his soft hair. You suddenly feel one of his fingers circle your opening and insert. You almost cry out but stop yourself by biting the knuckles of your other hand.

“Jack….Jack, oh my god….”

“Mmmm gorgeous, you taste better than I had even imagined.”

His finger slides in and out, rubbing your clenching walls. Not too long after, he inserts another finger, earning another loud moan from you. The fire at the base of your spine rapidly grows brighter and brighter, causing you to involuntarily begin to buck against his face. His tongue and lips expertly sucking, licking and laving on and around your sensitive bud. His free hand sliding up to cup your knee and keep your legs apart.

You cry out and whimper the closer you get to your limit, beginning to see stars. You were not prepared for how good he is at this. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs and squeeze, holding you steady while he rubs his face deeper.

“You going to cum for me, sugar? Come on baby, I got’cha,” Jack cooes.

That’s enough to send you over the edge, feeling you clench down on his fingers as you climax. Murmurs of That’s it, show Daddy what you got through your loud moans. Your vision fades to black, you reward his ministrations with cries of Yes, yes…oh my god Jack, yes!

After working you through your first orgasm, he stands up and rests his hands on either of your knees. He watches your panting, heaving chest. His hands shoot forward, tenderly grabbing both of your breasts in his hands. You make a small, strangled noise in response and then hum.

“That was…..amazing,” you say between small gasps, still regaining your breath.

Jack smiles wide and crooked, “that’s just the start, gorgeous.”

Jack finally starts to really let go of his restraint with you, moving to make quick work of removing his clothes. When you attempt to sit up, his hand immediately pushes you back down and wags his finger with a tut from his mouth. “So needy. But I’m going to take my time.”

His words cause something between a moan and giggle to come from you, biting your lip while you watch him undo his ridiculous belt buckle. He sees you eyeing it and quirks an eyebrow, “Should I use this on you? Wrap it around your pretty wrists?”

A light forms in your eyes and you shake your head yes, excitement building in your stomach and between your thighs. “I’d love that, Jack.”

“I’m sure you would, darlin’,” he says silkily.

The last thing to be stripped off is his underwear, cock springing forward red and heavy.

Jack positions himself between your thighs, arms caging your head and your upper bodies melding together. His lips meet yours in a fevered kiss while you stretch your arms out above your head to give easier access to you.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip and you grant him access, his tongue quickly overpowering yours and licking into your mouth. It’s almost difficult keeping up with his passionate kissing.

Your eyes open to meet him when he stops and his gaze is still dark and hungry. Those warm brown eyes only added to melt you into the trembling mess you're becoming at his expert fingertips.

Jack starts to trail down your body, nipping and kissing your jawline, moving down to gently scrape his teeth across your collarbone. Taking one breast in one hand while the other supports him above you. He takes your nipple in his mouth and you arch into him, sending electricity through your nerves. Arousal starts to build back up in between your thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” Jack says breathily. “I can wait much longer. Are you ready for me, gorgeous?”

Your eyes cast down to meet him as he continues to lap at your breasts, “Yes Jack, please. I need you.”

“Welll….” He drawls. “Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she needs?”

Taking his length in his hand, he lines himself up with your opening, sliding it through your slick folds and coating himself. Then slowly, but surely, he begins to insert. The stretch around him feels amazing and takes your breath right out of your lungs.

Jack almost loses himself doing this, and he’s not even all the way in. Jack has quite a length himself, he knows this. Hence the need to prepare you like he did. He lets out a low groan from his chest as he buries himself in your wet cunt.

His face is right above yours, lips brushing as you breath in each other's air while he adjusts himself. You widen your legs to give him more space to sink himself in, he rolls his hips to enter gradually. After a few rocks of his hips, he’s into the hilt.

You can’t help but cry out and the sound is music to his ears. His hips start a steady, rolling pace with each thrust increasing the volume of your wanton moans. You can feel every inch of him dragging against your walls.

He feels almost impossibly deep as he picks up his pace. You arch your back from his bed, your chest becoming flush with his. The feeling of your soft breasts against his chest elicits a deep moan from the back of his throat.

One of his hands cups your cheek as he lowers his face to your ear on the opposite side. Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly take in any more different sensations, his hot breath fans over your skin while singing you praises.

Atta girl, that’s it, I’ve got you.

Oh you take me so well…so well.

Can you give me another? Come on gorgeous, I know you can.

The coil in your stomach tightens and tightens but you can’t seem to find the end of it. You open your mouth to say something but you’re not sure what. You just need more and more of him.

“Oh….I….” You can barely stutter out, your vision turning white. He nudges your temple with his nose then lays a sensual kiss.

“Do you need more? Tell Jack what you need.”

“Yes…yes please, I-I need more!” You finally manage to breathe out.

Jack’s eyes meet yours with a glint of mischief and a crooked grin to match. With one hand bracing above your head and the other snaking down to grip your lower back and waist.

“Hold on tight sugar and get ready to giddy-up!”

In a split second he stops thrusting, using his muscular body to swiftly roll over his side to his back while bringing you with him placing you on top. When adjusted, you allow yourself to sink down onto him, creating a whole new myriad of stimulation.

Jack marvels at the sight of you atop of him, puffing his chest in pride. Both of you breathily laugh as you adjust. A sheen of sweat has gathered across the soft skin of your body and shines in the lowlight of the bedroom.

At first you stay put, feeling the new depth of his cock inside of you. Conveniently, you remember what you told him earlier. You turn to find his hat still perched on the corner of the bed, stretching your arm out to grab it. He watches you carefully as you gently grab the top of his precious Stetson.

Turning back to look at him, flashing him a seductive look, you place his hat on top of your head. You lick your bottom lip and bite it, placing your hands on his chest to keep your balance. “Let’s go for a ride, cowboy.”

Jack grins back at you dangerously, “oh babydoll you’re going to be the death of me!”

He shifts and plants his legs into the bed, straightening his knees to give him leverage. He ruts his hips up into yours and sets a punishing pace, resulting in a loud, erotic moan erupting from your chest. Taking that as encouragement, he digs his fingers into your hips to keep you steady while the head of his cock strokes that spot deep inside of you.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten again and you clench around him. You can feel your next orgasm start to barrel towards you. The sound of skin slapping and your mutual gasps and moans intertwining fills your ears. You haven’t broken eye contact with him and it only adds to the fire deep in his own abdomen.

Your legs start to shake as you cum hard around him, riding out the blissful shockwaves. His cock continuing to fuck up into you and giving the perfect amount of overstimulation for you to ride it out.

“Fuck! F-fuck, oh Jack-“

“Theeeere we go, that’s it, come on Sugar, you can take it!”

Jack takes one large hand and reaches out to rub his thumb against your clit, sending you over the cliff.

At the tail end of your explosive orgasm, you collapse onto his chest. He removes his hat to the side and wraps his arms around your torso, bringing his lips down to your ear to whisper again.

You did so good gorgeous.

Christ almighty girl, can you hear that? You’ve soaked me to the bone.

You begin to whimper and shake. Not sure what to do with your arms, you stretch them out behind you. Jack takes the opportunity to grab both wrists into one hand while the other is still wrapped around your back. Giving him just enough leverage to keep up with the pounding of his hips.

Jack’s own orgasm is very close, your overstimulated pussy fluttering around his length. His eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m almost there sugar, w-where do you want me?”

You can barely speak while you dissolve into pleasure as you rest on his broad chest. You manage to spit out “inside…on pill….please, inside….”while burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

Jack’s position inside of you practically has his lower back hover above the bed with his legs keeping him up. He suddenly tenses up, hips stutter, and he finally crashes into his own orgasm. His thrusts begin to slow but ride out the pulsing of his cock as it shoots ropes into your tight, wet cunt.

With a loud, satisfied sigh, he relaxes onto the bed. Stretching his legs to rest on the plush mattress. You feel the deep rise and fall of his chest underneath your own. Lifting your head to see his eyes wrenching open to meet yours. He smiles, and you smile back, scooting up to kiss him. He welcomes your lips with a hum and molds his mouth around yours.

The two of you stay like this for a few moments, sated and content. You just know you’re going to be feeling him the next day and you’re sure he’ll love to know that.

Eventually his cock slips out of you as he rolls both of you to your sides, facing each other as closely as you can. He rubs his nose against yours and you giggle.

“Jack…that was phenomenal.”

“I know sugar, I was there,” he drawls, southern accent even more present.

You chuckle and playfully slap his shoulder, his hand reaches around to grab your ass cheek to bring you closer to him.

Jack brings his other arm up to wrap around you between the bed and your arm. He holds you close to him, planting a soft kiss atop your head.

“Thank you sugar,” he murmurs.

You rub your head into the crook of his neck, “thank you? For what?”

“For giving this ‘old man’ a chance.”

Your hand comes up to splay across his pectoral above his heart and you feel his quickened heartbeat underneath your palm. Your own heart is also rapidly beating in tandem. You then bring your hand up to caress his cheek, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“That girl has no idea what she missed out on,” you say, tenderly. “But I’m glad it ended up this way.”

Jack looks deep into your eyes and feels like his heart might burst. He didn’t mean to take the rejection so hard, but what he ended up with was far times better.

Be brings up the comforter on the bed to cover you as he slips out of it. You pout at him in protest, sitting up until he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, teasingly shushing you.

“Ssshh, sweet girl, just hold on tight for a minute.”

With a light kiss to your forehead as you lay back down, nestling yourself into the soft bed, he treks to the bathroom. You hear him rustling for a few minutes, the sink turning on and off and then the sound of the tub filling. He comes back with a cloth, you catch onto his intent and move the blanket to give him access. Softly, he cleans you up and then discards the cloth.

He offers you a hand and you accept it, letting him help lift you up from the bed to stand on shaky legs. You use both arms to grab him and he smirks, pleased with himself once again. Your legs feel like jello but you’re not complaining one bit.

He brings you to the tub, getting inside first and offering his hands to bring you in with him. You give a low hiss, feeling the hot water touch your skin as you sink into the water. You seat yourself between his legs and rest your back to his chest.

Both of you sigh in contentment, you rest your head back into his shoulder. His hand reaches to rest on your neck and rub his thumb along the hollow of it. He slowly places reverent kisses along your temple into your hairline.

Never, did you think this is how today would end up and you couldn’t be more thankful. Jack simultaneously excites and comforts you. Jack finds himself infatuated, you’ve possibly become the much needed balm for his aches.

“Oh shoot, we didn’t use your belt,” you laugh.

Jack smiles into your hair, “I was thinking we could use that next time…”

Your face falls, you turn your head slightly to face him. His eyes are affectionate and the corners of his lips turned up. You flutter your lashes and mirror back his expression, heart thumping harder in your chest. You didn’t mean to assume this was a one time thing but you’re thrilled to know he wants more of you. Will this lead somewhere interesting?

“I’d love that,” you whisper as he brings his lips down to yours, holding you in a long kiss. His thumb comes up to stroke your cheek and you deepen it. You turn your body towards his, sitting up and moving to straddle his hips. You break off the kiss to rest your hands on his shoulder as he rubs your back, pressing you tight against him.

Jack thought he might be scared to ever find love again. He’s not saying this is love, not yet exactly. But after years of one-night stands, not taking himself seriously and rejected flirting attempts, he’s tired. Ready for something fresh and new. He wonders how in the world your two worlds seemed to line up the way they did. Today might have started with a nearly instant sexual attraction, but it ended off with a full heart and ease he hasn’t experienced in a very, very long time.

Not since her.

And knowing you reciprocate that, enthusiastically, motivates him.

[carlos-in-glasses]

2023 Writing Round Up

Thank you for the tag @heartstringsduet @reasonandfaithinharmony @jesuisici33 @chicgeekgirl89 @thisbuildinghasfeelings @theghostofashton @orchidscript @welcometololaland @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @alrightbuckaroo

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you're most excited about.

15 fics this year! I have loved writing and sharing every one of them. Thank you to everyone who has read or will at some point. Work is a lot busier these days, so I don’t anticipate writing the same volume in 2024…but we shall see! I just want whatever I share to be good quality, and it’s my New Year’s resolution to keep improving. I love Tarlos. I love writing Tarlos fic. I love this fandom.

January

The Ruins of Wonderland – a reimagining of TK and Carlos getting back together after their breakup. I posted this on New Year’s Day, resolving to start 2023 off on the right fanfic foot.

Chasers – A coda for 3x13. TK talks to Cooper about his past, while Carlos goes for a swim and thinks about his own. When Carlos gets home, he and TK have an important chat. The rection to this fic spurred me on to continue writing in the flashback/vignette/timeline format.

February

Man to Man – A coda for 2x11 and 2x12, which also looks at Carlos coming out to his parents and where he is now with it all.

March

Afterglow of a Supernova – When fiancés TK and Carlos help Carlos’ high school crush and his wife during a call, they end up having a dinner with them that leads to jealousy in an unexpected way. The feedback I’ve had on this fic sent me to the moon on rainbows.

April

The Heart Behind the Shield – My first chaptered fic! I'd been wanting to write a 2x08 coda, but it was 4x04 that made it possible. This combines events from both episodes where there’s duality, and was an absolute blast to write and post.

The Light of Our Life – Listen, I wrote this during an extended lunch break and posted it the same day. For somehow it’s my fifth most kudos’d fic of the year…Thank you!!! We were all deep in our Lou II feelings at this time. Never forget.

Fire Island – TK and Carlos travel to Fire Island, where an older gay couple talks to them about their experience of the AIDS crisis in 1980s New York. This fic by far had the most emotional impact on me while writing it, and based on feedback it seems to be the same for readers(?) People have shared personal stories and memories with me since I posted this, and I just want to say I’m truly grateful for the response, given I wrote it in January but didn’t feel brave enough to post it for a few months.

May

With Infinity Folded Into It – Written for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Countdown to the Wedding event (prompt was: Love). After TK proposes, Carlos remembers the first time they said “I love you.” It’s fluff, it’s smut, it’s kinda angsty because Carlos is trying to bake and baking is stressful.

The Center of the Maze – Another written for Tarlos Weekly Prompts Countdown to the Wedding. (Prompt: "I Never Thought I Would Get This Day".) I thought this was going to be a 2k one-shot; it turned into 20k split into 4 chapters… Seven times they thought they would never get married, and one time when they actually did. I was super inspired and happy with the writing in this one.

June into July

When Soulmates Swim – The closest I’ll ever come to writing a sports AU (….or is it?👀…) Sparks and splashes fly when TK and Carlos each take up swimming while they recover from workplace injuries. I really pushed myself with smut and humour in this fic and the feedback I’ve had has been incredible. One of the most enjoyable writing experiences I’ve ever had, this fic holds a special place in heart.

Release The Hand to Relax the Animal – TK and Carlos explore the world of tantric massage in their own way. Written because Rafael Silva has madly attractive hands, and @heartstringsduet and I thought we should celebrate. You can read Michelle’s hands fic, Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life, Too, here. It is BEAUTIFUL.

(Nothing in August)

September

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines – A 3x08 coda, which also gets into TK and Carlos’ childhood memories of 9/11, and the way that event went on to impact their lives (to the point where it set them on the path to meeting each other). It recieved the most amazing comments, with people sharing their memories of 9/11, so like Fire Island this fic feels deeper to me in a social way.

October

Suddenly in the Silence – I’d ‘joked’ about the show giving us Ghost Gabriel in season 5, but a conversation with thisbuildinghasfeelings led me to explore that concept myself. In this fic, it’s up to the reader to decide whether they think the spirit of Gabriel is around, which made writing it challenging but a lot of fun. It’s so interesting to see what side people fall on!

November

Where All This Love Comes From – This is my Tarlos novel at ~90k words, due to finish posting in February. I began writing it in March, when a hefty amount of plot relied on Gabriel being alive after season 4. Substantial rewrites happened after May, which was pretty gutting at the time, but ultimately I think this has ended up being the best thing I’ve written so far in my life.

December

There is a smutty one-shot coming with a scream very soon…And I hope you like it!

I'm not sure who has already done this - tagging with no pressure if you want to share/haven't already - and open tag!

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @goodways @lemonlyman-dotcom @paperstorm @wandering-night19 @heartstringsduet @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @rmd-writes @rosedavid @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader @taralaurel @three-drink-amy @redshirt2 @noxsoulmate @sanjuwrites @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21

❤️🩷🧡💛❤️🩷🧡💛

[kagejima]

pairing: msby jackals + gn!newbie manager

mood music: the call - backstreet boys

author's notes: look, i don't know what to tell you. one day "the call" by backstreet boys came on shuffle in my library and i have not been able to listen to it since without picturing msby doing chaotic karaoke to it. i had to do 160 edits to this, if I missed something, I will come back to it later fhdjfas

author's notes part deux: i will bite your ankles if you trash talk the other older members of MSBY, chomp chomp. y'all forget writers can see every tag.

content warnings: alcohol consumption; the song is about cheating on your girlfriend (just in case); mild daddy kink; mild size kink; mild sex mentions

It’s just a job. 

They are just your co-workers. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself. 

But it’s difficult to remember that when the members of the MSBY Black Jackals have invited you out to a night of karaoke… And every single one of them is so attractive that your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest anytime they talk to you. 

How many other little managers in the past have been tortured by their good looks? With their smiles? With their flirting?

It’s a tradition!

That’s what Kotarou tells you, and you wonder if he means it’s a tradition for them specifically or a tradition for every team. 

It’ll be fun! 

That’s what Shugo tells you, but it’s hard to believe him. It’s only been two weeks since you started as their manager, so you think they’re just trying to have you included in things — a bonding thing with them as a team. 

But you wonder how it could possibly be fun for you when you’re the only non-player on this outing right now. 

Or maybe… 

Maybe that’s exactly how they wanted it to be.

After a couple of drinks and some chit-chat, they try to get you to go on stage in the crowded bar, but you refuse to. You don’t know what song you’d even sing, for one, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of all of them, for two. 

With all of their encouragement, you still won’t budge, so they all start their own separate conversations with each other. 

However, you still can’t get them to tell you something you desperately want to know. 

“So what’s this song that you all are keeping a big secret?” You ask Shugo, who’s sitting next to you, and he only grins at you before taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I can’t tell you that, baby. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise. But I have to say, it’s fun to see the looks on everyone’s faces every year when we do it.”

“How come that makes me more nervous?” You squint at him.

Shugo only shrugs, still smirking, and it’s driving you nuts. 

Luckily Kiyoomi comes to your rescue. 

"They did it two days before an important match one time, and we ended up winning. So now they do it before the start of every season." Kiyoomi explains, albeit vaguely, and takes another swig of his vodka tonic.

“Can I at least know who sings it?” You ask, trying to think of every popular karaoke song off the top of your head.

Kiyoomi is about to give it away, but Atsumu clamps a hand over his mouth. The glasses rattle around on the table because Atsumu has shot up from his spot and lunged over the table to do so.

“Ya can’t ruin the surprise!” Atsumu whines, his hand pressing harder against Kiyoomi's mouth, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!!”

Kiyoomi glares at Atsumu, but he obeys him. 

You’re about to try and trick Kotarou or Shoyo, thinking surely you can get the information out of them the easiest, but “Shugo plus party of 8??” comes through loud and clear on the speakers and they’re all downing their drinks before they make their way up to the stage.

Kiyoomi is the only one who stays seated with you.

“You’re not going up too?” You ask him, because it’s definitely not you included in the party of eight.

“I’m not needed until later.” is all he says.

…

Whatever the fuck that means.

When everyone sans Kiyoomi is situated on stage, a phone rings, and an incredibly familiar voicemail message starts playing. You look up at the stage and they all are vibrating with excitement like the voicemail is taking forever and a half.  

It’s a song you remember that your cousin was obsessed with back in the day, and it’s confusing to you that they’re getting excited over a song about cheating on your girlfriend.

But you digress. They all look like they’re having a fun time. 

You honestly don’t know whether to be happy or embarrassed since they’re all well past tipsy. Even with the alcohol coursing through their system, they’re all miraculously remembering who’s in charge of what lines. 

It’s quite a sight to see Alexander in the middle holding his microphone at stomach level with Shoyo and Shion on either side of him so they can actually use it. Alexander is new to the team, just like you, but he looks like he’s having the time of his life up there even though he doesn’t know the words like the others do. 

Atsumu and Kotarou are fighting over who gets to hold the microphone they have, tugging it back and forth because they’d rather have Ushijima beat them in an arm wrestling contest than not have all eyes on only them right now. 

Shugo, Adriah, and Oliver are as pally-wally as they can possibly get. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought they were actually brothers. Blissfully unaware of the chaos of Atsumu and Kotarou on the other end of the stage, Oliver is holding the microphone while Adriah and Shugo are on each side of him, their hands on Oliver’s shoulders and body as they throw their heads back and shout along to the chorus. 

You think that it can’t get any funnier, cheering along with the crowd as they are getting towards the end. 

But then the chair next to you scoots back in your peripheral vision. You watch Kiyoomi as he gets up and makes his way towards the stage, and everyone on the team is hyping him up, like they did this just to see Kiyoomi do… whatever the fuck he’s about to do. 

It’s almost like you’re experiencing a fever dream when you see Kiyoomi take the microphone from Atsumu’s hands and he belts out “GOTTA GOOOO-OOOO-OOOO” before the second to last chorus starts up. 

And then acts as if absolutely nothing happened before coming back to your table and sitting back down. 

When they finish, it’s met with wild applause, and you can’t help but join in on it yourself. You’re thankful their professional job is volleyball and not singing because they’re by no means stellar at singing - but that isn’t the point of karaoke. The point of it is to have fun.

When they all come back to the table, they all try again to get you to go sign up for a turn, and you reluctantly agree. Why not? They’ll probably be too drunk to remember you making an ass out of yourself.  

But you want to talk to someone first before you do. 

KOTAROU has golden retriever energy, through and through. He was the first one you met on your first day. You thought you would be meeting the captain first, but Shugo was running late. Kotarou made you feel more comfortable since you were slightly intimidated by it being your first real job. 

He was the first to ask you if he could have your phone number ("For… for work… purposes?" His lie was obvious with the way he was wincing and rubbing the back of his head, but you thought it was sweet). 

He was also the first to have to hide a boner from you. 

SHOYO reminds you of your younger brother. If your younger brother was jacked… and could jump scary high… and never stopped talking. You think he's adorable, and you think it's cute how strong of a bond he has with Kotarou, almost like he's Kotarou's little brother. 

You also think it's cute how he looks in your direction whenever he pulls off a fancy new move in practice. "Didja see!! Didja see me??" 

You have to reassure him that, yes, you definitely did watch him pull it off. You didn't though. You were too busy staring at him and wondering what his stamina would be like in bed if he were this way on the court. 

ATSUMU is the type of guy you had a crush on in high school. Even though he isn’t in school anymore, something about him still screams jock. Maybe it’s the hair or the way he carries himself. Maybe it’s the way everyone and their mother fawns over him, but he just gives you jock vibes still. 

Or maybe it’s how he kissed your hand and introduced himself to you at that first practice (half of the team groaned at this). Perhaps it’s the way he made a cute nickname for you the following week, or maybe it’s the way he only has eyes for you. 

It’s almost like you put a spell on him, and he's hopelessly in love with you. So much so to the point that when Osamu came to drop off food at a practice, he literally shoved him out the door so you wouldn't fall for him instead. 

KIYOOMI makes you giggle with his comments when the others are getting out of hand. He thinks he isn’t heard, but he fell for you because you paid attention to him. Every sly remark that passed his lips, all the sarcastic commentary he thought he was getting away with about the other teammates, never got past you. It was like a little secret between the two of you. Little inside jokes.

He’s also the one who wants to get to know every little thing about you that he can. You keep hearing from the others that he can be blunt with how he speaks, but he’s never spoken that way to you. Instead, he’s always been very kind and thoughtful, never rude at all. There’s something sweet to you about him and how he awkwardly asks you questions about yourself to get to know you better. 

SHION is your little partner in crime. Sort of. Kotarou made you feel more at ease, but you feel like Shion just got you when it came to pranks and silliness. It’s usually Shion that’s brainstorming the tricks, and you wonder how long he’s been thinking about doing things like this to his teammates. It’s almost like he’s doing it just to keep himself sane from the chaos he has to put up with on a daily basis. 

So you’re a little surprised when “We should get together for a date!” comes tumbling out of his mouth, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean… I thought of something hilarious we could do to Atsumu next practice. But we should get together to… umm… discuss it. Is that a date? Is that weird? It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be.”

SHUGO knows. He knows all the things that only someone with experience knows. You want to look inside his head because there is no possible way he knows all the right things to say in every scenario. He’s too good to be true. 

And you still hate that after one practice, you were delivering the freshly laundered uniforms and saw him slip his shirt off, and you just stood there. And instead of saying his actual name, you called him Daddy. 

He still hasn’t let you live it down. 

You have to regularly converse with him since he's the captain, but he takes every opportunity he can to watch you squirm. Like how he'll bring you something you asked for - a notebook, a pencil, your phone - and he gives you the biggest shit-eating grin as he stands there and says, "Aren't you forgetting something?" 

He lives for your reactions when he leans closer to your ear and says, "Aren't you going to say 'Thank you, Daddy'?" 

ADRIAH has older brother energy. He’s the one who is always helping Shugo reign in the others (especially Kotarou and Atsumu when they get pouty). He’s asking how you’re adjusting to managing the team when there’s a break. 

He’s nice. Almost too nice. It’s to the point where you’re wildly suspicious of his motives when he talks to you. “Just tell me if you need anything!” is what he’s always telling you, a cheerful smile on his face. You do write it off as he’s just nice though a couple of days later when you can’t find evidence not to trust him. 

But you don’t know. 

You don’t know he goes home and hopes someday you’ll tell him, “You. I need you.” You don’t know he goes home and touches himself to thoughts of you. You don’t know that he’s plagued with dreams of you whimpering his name and begging him to fill you up, seeing pretty little tears spill from your eyes as your legs shake around him.  

OLIVER is big. At 6’10”, everything about him is enormous. His laugh and his smile are what caught your eye the most though. If Adriah has older brother energy, Oliver has your best friend’s goofy dad energy. And a man of that height? Others would find him intimidating, but he’s not. The very opposite. He's the most good-hearted person you've ever met.

Like when he asked you how your friend was doing after her surgery and he sent flowers to the hospital. Or the time he walked you home from practice because it was too dark out. 

"Do you want me to carry you?" He had offered because practice was grueling that day, and you had been running on very little sleep.

You don't want to talk about how you realized you maybe had a size kink that night, with how his big strong arms carried you all the way back to your house like you were nothing to him (You weren't). 

ALEXANDER is the kind of dreamy and rich lead you read about in your books. His taste in clothing, accessories, and fine dining is absolutely divine. You’ve made plans with him a week from now to go shopping and to a new restaurant you both are dying to try. 

He’s traveled much more than the others, which is saying something. He always has fun little anecdotes to tell. And you love listening to him speak. You could listen to him for hours with his voice - deep and smooth. You keep telling him he would be good at ASMR content, but he almost replies… shyly… almost submissively, when you tell him this. 

Sometimes you wonder if his voice would have the same quality if you were to be on top of him. 

You look at the men all around the table, most of them having their own conversations, but a few of them have been watching you, dying for you to look at them so they can talk to you. 

And really, they all are more than willing to give you their undivided attention. 

The only question is… 

Who has your attention for the rest of the night?

[outtoshatter]

This week's author spotlight goes to the fantastic and lovely @missanniewhimsy!!

Fics to Read:

Brave in the Shadows | NR | 5k tags: space, war, epistolary, open ending, angst Summary: Derek pulls his phone out as soon as he’s in the kitchen.

You have no new messages.

It’s the same every day.

Here Together | T | 10k tags: gaming, speedrunning, glitch hunting, online friendship Summary: In which Derek is a world-record holding speedrunner, Stiles is the glitch hunter who's found some of the biggest strats for the run and Derek's second most annoying mod. Small crushes get blown wide open when Derek invites Stiles to do commentary for a major run and they finally have a chance to meet in person.

Worthy | G | 1k tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, they both deserve nice things Summary: Stiles took a breath, then another, eyes locked on Derek’s. He shook his head, willing himself to calm down. “It--it’s been a while.”

Fics to Hear:

little boy lost | T | 1-1.5 hours tags: single parent Stiles, magic Stiles, deputy Derek, autumn Summary: If someone asked Stiles to write a parenting book, Stiles would say the best and most important rule is to love your kid. Just love the hell out of them, and make sure they know it.

The second most important rule would be don’t turn your back on a curious three year old with supernatural speed.

Stiles is currently failing at the second rule. Badly.

i went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees | T | 2-2.5 hours tags: fallen angels, guardian angels, rest stop Summary: Stiles is a crossroads demon operating out of a rest stop Subway, Derek is a guardian angel whose family has passed on. When Derek decides to stick around, the Jacob Campbell Southbound Rest Area gets interesting. Well, more interesting than it already was.

(aka the prompt generator drabble that grew legs and turned into an meditation on grief, guilt, responsibility, and the redemptive power of unconditional love.)

And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved | T | 1-1.5 hours tags: space, kidnapped Derek, kidnapped Stiles, no torture Summary: "Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay."

"You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood."

Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head."

"Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles.

"I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead."

Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."

In Progress:

[podfic] Fractured Starlight | M | 9/34 chapters tags: hurt/comfort, amnesia fic, witch Stiles, blood and gore, alpha Derek Summary: Stiles is driving home when a werewolf pops out of his trunk like a demented jack-in-the-box, aggressive, confused, and with no memory of who he is or how he got in there. Stiles has no choice but to take him through the protected borders of Willow Pass so he can figure out what's going on and if this strange werewolf is a danger to his coven.

Go check out allll of misswhimsy's fics on their AO3 page! Don't forget to mind the tags, leave a kudos, and maybe even drop a comment!

[sauron-kraut]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much for tagging me, @nihil-ism 🖤

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 15.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

9,329 - you see, my works posted so far are either shorter one shots or ficlets/drabbles.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Silmarillion and adjacent works by Tolkien. :) And within this fandom it's almost exclusively about rather niche ships with Mairon. Let's see when/if I will write for other fandoms; I'd love to at some point.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Gods And Monsters

Sacrificial

Plaything

Sugar

Sacred

All of these are Mairon/Ar-Pharazôn. lmao

5. Do you respond to comments?

I will respond to every single (first) comment someone leaves on a fic of mine. I thorougly enjoy these little interactions and I want to show my appreciation to people who show me theirs.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That must be my double drabble Plaything I guess. At least if we talk about the very moment ending the fic. Throwing up from negative emotions and alcohol alike seems pretty... angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That must be Of Being Born and Little Deaths. Everyone (well...) is having a good time and it literally ends with an orgasm.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

So far I haven't and I'm very grateful for that.

9. Do you write smut?

I love writing smut. And I love weaving character analyses/studies and some poetry into it.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't, personally not a fan of crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but sharing headcanons and ideas with others has endlessly inspired many of my fics.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Angbang (Melkor/Mairon). I love them, I will never be over them; they've been with me for ten years now, I could ramble on forever about how important this ship is to me and what it means to me. It's rather popular in fandom though and I feel like there's many great writers out there who have graced us with their brilliant work. That makes me feel like I don't necessarily need to... add to that somehow. I'd love to write (more) Angbang at some point but as far as writing goes my favorite ship is Mairon/Ar-Pharazôn (which many of you might have guessed at this point lol). It's rotten, it's biblical, it's a playground for all things terrible to me. And it's a rarepair (why??) and therefore (in my mind) lies like a bare field before me, ready to sow and play in. 🖤

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

No such thing. My WIP are my children and I will not abandon them. It might take many months but they will see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Building atmosphere, pretty lines, poetry, in some parts characterization. (Very) short formats are my strength in general.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Not really able to write anything plot-driven, sometimes dialogue (though I might have started to improve a little), prioritizing pretty imagery and rhythm/sound over meaning/sense sometimes, having difficulties writing longer stuff.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not really my thing; could get awkard quickly imo.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Visual Kei bands (Moi dix Mois) when I was 14.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? 

Easily my little double drabble Reverence. It illustrates nicely what I talked about regarding my writing strengths for question 17 imo.

Tagging @lvsifer, @curufiin, @cilil, @saintstars, @gardensofthemoon, @elevenelvenswords , @crackinthecup , @swanhild , @a-world-of-whimsy-5 and @i-did-not-mean-to (no pressure ofc and sorry if I forgot anyone, in that case: that's just my forgetful brain at work)

[herearedragons]

Fan Work Friday

I was tagged for this by @greypetrel a While ago, so! Time to do another rec post.

Rules: If you’re tagged, MAKE A NEW POST and showcase one fanartist or fanfic you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don’t forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in!

(I'm bending the rules again and doing A Bunch of fic recs instead of one)

Tagging: everyone tagged in this post, and also @solas-backpack-mug @layalu @ndostairlyrium @apeirotilio if any of you feel like making a rec post!

Fanartist: @bragganhyl (Pillars of Eternity fanart)

I found this piece again yesterday and I still think it's really cool. I haven't seen a lot of fanart of Maerwald, so it's cool to see him represented, and it's really cool to see all three Watchers lined up like that, with all of their respective Themes and Symbols. Just. Idk, Watchers are cool, and this art made me appreciate that a little more.

Fanfic #1: The Way The Story Goes by @dragonologist-phd (Pillars Of Eternity)

The prince was born with a dragon. Dragons and the reasoning behind them were something of a mystery in the kingdom. Nobody knew where they came from, or why the hatchlings only appeared in the company of newborn royalty. Nobody knew how they picked their companions. None of these questions were all that important, in the end. What mattered was that there were certain types of stories that started with a dragon, and there was a way these stories were supposed to go. The king and queen turned their backs for one minute, and suddenly there was a tiny, iridescent dragon curled up next to their son in his crib. That was the beginning of the story.

A Pillars of Eternity fairytale AU where Iselmyr is a dragon and Aloth is her prince. It's a cute take on these two and I had fun reading it, so now I'm inflicting this fic on you all! If you're in a mood for a fun one-shot, I definitely recommend it.

Fanfic #2: In Lothering by @heniareth (Dragon Age: Origins)

“Now, now, is that a way to answer a friendly greeting?” The bandit captain clicked his tongue as his men tightened their ranks behind him. “A simple ten silver and you’re free to move. Not so bad, eh?” Astala smiled. There was no way in the Void these shem would squeeze several months’ worth of rent out of them.

I'm slowly making my way through this fic!! I really like how it slows down and lingers on all the small problems the DA:O party faces in the early stages of their travel, and the different perspectives they all have on these problems. If you like stories that combine great characterization with attention to Logistics and the practical side of adventuring, you're going to have fun reading this one.

Fanfic #3: the cracked and the cared for by @curiouslavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition)

Risk was mitigated through planning. He picked this room just for the fact that it had so many possible exits. He kept so many different weapons close to hand to give himself options. He had been trained to wake at the slightest indication of danger, and to respond in the same moment. No one would be sneaking up on him here and living through the attempt.  Bull knew all of this. None of it made him feel any better at the moment. None of it helped him sleep. He didn’t think he could bring himself to take up any of the weapons. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get his head around fighting hand-to-hand in time. Retreating would be easier to handle, mentally, but every time he moved more than an inch, Halveri made this pitiful little whimper that he couldn't stand. So he just went still again and tried not to think about the fact that the most magical person he had ever seen in his life was currently asleep on his chest.

I read this fic A While ago, but I reread it recently and, yup. It's still good. I don't know what is it, but the Bull POV in this fic is just really fun to read: it's the perfect balance of doubt and strategizing and picking his own brain apart and the vulnerability of being attached to the Inquisitor and. AAAAA. anyway, it's a good fic, I recommend it if you're in the mood for a character study that makes you Feel Things.

Fanfic #4: THE FURY OF A SHATTERED MIRROR by ASpooky (Disco Elysium x Slay The Princess)

YOU - How did I get here? THE NARRATOR - You walked, I presume. You've probably come a very long way and endured quite a number of trials to get here, but given the magnitude of the task still left before you, it won't do to get cold feet now. You can take a well-deserved rest after you slay her. ENDURANCE [Easy: Success] - You *aren't* tired. Not even a little. You could run a couple miles right now without breaking a sweat. PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] - Even at a jog, the worst you should feel through the thin haze of painkillers is a dull ache. It's probably not a good idea to start running on a bum leg, but when has that ever stopped you before? PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - There's still time. The sun hasn't risen yet, which means you can get in back-to-back morning jogs if you start *NOW*.

I actually don't know if this fanfic needs a recommendation because apparently it's so popular that at least one (1) youtube video was made about it, but I've been reading it and I want to talk about it, so in the rec list it goes.

If you have even a surface level familiarity with Disco Elysium and Slay The Princess, I recommend checking this out. The amount of attention of detail and effort that has gone into this fic is amazing and it's really clear why it's so beloved. The fic uses a CSS theme that looks like the Disco Elysium UI, and the author has gone the extra mile to play with the layout in pretty fun ways when it comes to the Disco Elysium voices-in-your-head and the StP voices-in-your-head interacting. And I haven't even said anything about the writing yet, but the writing is also really good. The character voices are great, the jokes land, and the story is really interesting and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s Phone Call: Newlyweds [新婚燕尔] Translation 

*Light and Night Masterlist | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Evan: Were you sleeping? Did you receive the photos I sent you?

MC: I got them! There were so many of them that my phone was constantly buzzing!

MC: I’m currently in the middle of admiring them… Not that I’m anywhere near done.

Evan: There certainly were a lot of pictures. Did I disturb you by sending them?

MC: No, these are all really great photos!

MC: I feel like even if I see these photos again years down the road, it’ll still make me feel as if I was just there.

MC: And you even took this many pictures of me! I completely didn’t notice you taking them…

Evan: I wanted to capture the most natural shots of you, that’s why I didn’t give you a heads-up beforehand.

Evan: I actually spent a long time sorting out the photos I took and picking out the best ones before sending them your way.

Evan: But all the different angles and expressions in each photo invoke different feelings.

Evan: In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to come to a decision, so I sent them all to you instead.

MC: I’m as spoiled for choice as you are. All the photos you took are so impactful and I can see the amount of effort you put into each and every one of them.

Evan: Only because you looked so stunning in a wedding dress, that no one is bound to forget.

MC: Really? Did I look better than usual?

Evan: Are you trying to tease me? This question sounds like an infamously tricky conundrum.

MC: I’m being serious here.

Evan: Why are you so concerned about this?

MC: I am a designer, so I have both designed and worn various casual and formal outfits.

MC: But no matter what new styles of apparel I design, it will never be able to best people’s impression of a wedding dress being the best look out there.

MC: So I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed a little.

Evan: Ah, I now understand what our great Designer is all so troubled about.

Evan: People say that a girl’s wedding day is the day that she is most beautiful, however, I beg to differ.

Evan: If a girl is unable to return to her prior beauty after the wedding, then wouldn’t the wedding be a disaster?

MC: That’s true. It makes the saying sound a little odd, now that you mention it.

Evan: In our interactions, I can tell, day by day, that you’re getting more experienced, and becoming even more alluring.

Evan: Growth does not stop at a wedding. I believe that you, too, would not choose to accept that sort of marriage.

Evan: I wish for you to grow stronger by the day, and to have more confidence in yourself. I think that is what true beauty is.

Evan: Hence, in my eyes, you are only growing more beautiful by the day.

MC: What you said just reminded me of the two girls we met. They were both really dazzling…

MC: Beauty is to live life as beautifully as you can, right?

Evan: Yes.

MC: I feel much more relieved after hearing you say all that.

MC: I was honestly a little worried deep down when I first participated in the experience.

MC: Wouldn’t I be making too light of a wedding by experiencing it once beforehand despite it being such an important ceremonial event in life?

MC: Now, I think that it’s not a big deal at all. We’re all constantly improving, and constantly making important choices in life.

MC: And the important feelings in the deepest recesses of our hearts aren’t something that can be diminished by a ceremony alone.

Evan: That’s right. Do you still remember the old couple we met today?

MC: Yeah! They participate in the wedding experience every ten years to experience the day once more. It’s super romantic of them!

Evan: Perhaps they come to appreciate different things about it with each time, but what remains unchanged is the feelings they share for each other.

MC: Oh, right. Hey, Evan. In the future, let’s also-

Evan: Hm? Let’s also?

MC: Nothing! Pretend I didn’t say anything!

Evan: I think I know what you’re trying to say.

Evan: I, too, feel that it is much too pitiful to only be able to see you in a wedding dress once in life.

[nerdieforpedro]

Beginners Guide to your Fanfic Tag game

I was tagged by @wannab-urs and @magpiepills

I didn't forget, I just had to write it down and save it in drafts because sometimes Tumblr will let me do stuff and other times not. 👀

Anyway, you pick however many of your fics you think readers should read first to get to know your work or what you would recommend to them. I think the two lovelies above picked five each so I'll do the same. 🫡 I put in bold themes that can be found in each fic, but do check the warnings. You picks as many as you like. 😄

Drops of Sugar - This ongoing series started with a two part fic that I wrote with Joel Miller (no outbreak - he deserves to be happy especially in my delusions) and Layla (OFC). It morphed into vignettes that I started writing about different points in their relationship. It's easy, breezy and beautiful. Domestic fluff and some smut.

Pleasure Principle - This was my first series (still ongoing) Dave York and Kiara were drawn to each other, have a lot of sex and are trying to figure out feelings. This series in particular had readers point out things that I didn't realize I included. 👀 Like not only a B&E but also that she was not mad at it. Which should indicate how twisted these two are. Also a domestic Dave, but manipulative with groceries and laundry? Smut, angst and feelings.

The Long Road to Together - My longest one shot (16k people like hydrate and have a bathroom break) to date. It features Tommy Miller (no outbreak) and Velora (OFC). My take on a friends to lovers trope that had a few twists because they're both messy. They need Joel and Sarah to be the voices of reason. Joel also has his own sub-plot, becuase Tess. Smut, fluff and angst.

Sard'ika Sessions - My neat six sexy sessions the reader has with Din Djarin, The Mandalorian. Is there smut in every session? Yes. Did I make it gradually increase? Sure and added some non-canon Mandalorian lore that I'm sure is true (in my delusions) which would be in chapter four. There are feelings because sometimes I stick feelings in between the sweaty bits. One thing in this series I did focus on was communication between Din and the reader given how their relationship starts and progresses. I was really happy when people commented and picked up on that aspect. Also a lot of beskar and hands. I in particular enjoyed writing the final session for the cameos I wove in, the blindfold, Din being a complete menace (Maker Yes!! 🙌) and a phrase I didn't realize I stuck in there, "not giving two wookies about what they said or did." 🤣 SMUT, feelings, dash of angst, fluff. (in that order)

Weddings 101 with Dieter - This is neck and neck with Sard'ika Sessions as my favorite. I enjoy all my work (why else would I write it?) But this holds a special place because it's ridiculous, the premise is flimsy and it's just fun. Maya (OFC) needs a lift, Dieter gives her one, there a villa. The goat is a supporting character and has Dieter's back no matter what. Oscar Isaac is slandered and injured (I'm sorry, but I was giggle wheezing while writing his parts it only gets worse) might be an enemy of Dieter's at this point. Oh and there's a wedding? Did we mention that? It's not that important. The weird cloud drum sexy dream I wrote for Dieter is what matters. Priorities people! I envisioned this as the rom-com that I've never seen Pedro in. That's why I wrote it. Not that all this would ever make it into one such movie. 🤓 My attempts at comedy, fluffy as a cloud or a goat, eventual smut, some drug use, future Oscar Isaac mishaps/slander, Dieter's MOUTH AND HANDS. Whatever else I think to put in this thing.

No pressure tags: @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl @morallyinept @trulybetty @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair @maggiemayhemnj @pamasaur @linzels-blog @avastrasposts @secretelephanttattoo @legendary-pink-dot @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gasolinerainbowpuddles @gwendibleywrites @undercoverpena @sin-djarin @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @theywhowriteandknowthings

My bad I tagged so many of you, I wanna know about all your stuff. I'm greedy! 😆

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine I know what you're gonna say, but I'm curious what you think of this list. 👀

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Nine.

Apologies the update is late, guys. I had one of my dearest friends home from America come and visit today, and I haven’t seen her for about ten years so it was good to sit and have a lovely long catch up with her! Thanks to those of you who are showing continued interest, even though I feel it has waned a little. In light of such, I’m going to lower the note count to 30 per chapter. Kinda don’t really know what else to do. 

I just hope people still love it and aren’t getting fed up. Maybe it’s too slow burn, I dunno, but at least this chapter brings them together in reality, so there’s that. I’ll just muddle along being an insecure mess, haha! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,611

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“So, why Utah, mano?” Bishop asked, getting a few more details from Angel over his impending mini-break for three and a half days a few hundred miles north.  

“Thought I’d embarrass myself on a snowboard again. I ain’t all that on actual snow, even though I do well on a dry slope.”  

“Ahh,” Bishop sounded, seeming surprised. “You still at that, even after breaking up with Lucy? I kinda thought it was only for her benefit, you actually moving other than to lift heavy things.” True, Angel had only taken up the sport because of his ex and her passion for it, however, he’d stuck at it upon realising he was actually reasonably decent.

“Ahem, aren’t you forgetting something?” He immediately side eyed the person who he knew would betray his reply, one Sharise Reyes who had piped up, and who did not disappoint. “That isn’t the only reason! He’s going to meet a fine little honey up there, aren’t you, Cassanova?”  

Coco couldn’t help himself. “Pfft, Cassanova. Our boy is more...” he paused, snapping his fingers. “What was that beat up, shitty little British import car was got in the other day?”  

Bishop began to hiss with laughter immediately. “A Vauxhall Nova!”  

“Yeah,” Coco grinned. “He that.”

“Fuck all of y’all,” Angel spat, sinking a shot of tequila as his friends roared laughing. “And you, with your big yap!” he then added to Sharise, who just grinned with mirth.  

“So, who’s the chula, homes?” Coco asked, ready to fire out a little more razzing.

“Just a girl I got talking to on Insta initially, so yeah, gonna go up and meet her.” Only his brother and Sharise knew the truth, and as far as he was concerned, that was the way it would stay.  

Coco’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah? Lemme get a peep at her.”  

Angel took out his phone, finding a picture she’d sent him the other day of her new hair, having it chopped just above her shoulders and highlighted with blonde tones. Turning the screen to him, he smirked at witnessing Coco’s eyes practically fall out of his skull.  

“Damn, she fine as hell. What the fuck does she see in your crusty ass?” He received a raised middle finger for that comment, laughing hard as he handed Angel his phone back. Not even the razzing he received from everyone assembled at the table could dent him, though. He couldn’t wait to meet Keri in the flesh.  

As for the girl herself, she was utterly fizzing with excited nerves, looking forward to spending just over three days with him, which would have been just two, had she not had a study day on Friday, and only one lecture to get to on Monday afternoon. Her idea of a study day would be to take him snowboarding with Frankie and Rachel, Keri loving that it was something they had in common.

Every so often, though, a little flare of anxiety would streak through her, wondering if he, at thirty-six, would be content with hanging out with a bunch of twenty-two-year-olds, in the times where it wasn’t just them. Also, what if he didn’t like her in the flesh? What if the ease they felt towards one another only existed in their dreams?  

“Hey, can I get an answer here?”  

David’s words roused her from her thoughts, looking over to see him holding up two boxes of cereal.  

“Those, please,” she replied, pointing at the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He placed them in the cart, locating Meryl’s chocolate and coconut granola and tossing the bag in, turning back to Keri. He’d finished early from work, collecting his stepdaughter at college and heading to the store so Meryl didn’t have to once she was done with her long day.  

“You seem a little distant this evening.”  

“Sorry,” she smiled, turning the corner of the aisle, picking up their regular brand of olive oil. “I’m just anxious about Angel coming up.”  

He made a silent ‘ah’ face, nodding in understanding. “You know, little, I’m glad you at least confided in me about him visiting, so I know where you’ll have disappeared to all weekend. Good plan too, having him stay at Frankie and Jaime’s with you. I know you have your unique time with him, but still, you don’t know him. Much safer, having your buddies close by. Frankie sure is efficient with that baseball bat, from all the home runs I remember her scoring on the high school team.”  

“Let’s hope he doesn’t turn out to be someone who needs to be Lucille’d, minus the barbed wire, huh?” she laughed, referencing one of the favourite TV shows, The Walking Dead.  

“No!” he exclaimed, picking up crackers. “Cheese or seeded?”

“Both, toss ‘em in!” She spied the brand of dried strawberry cookies she loved, placing those in as well, looking back up at David. “You’re not gonna tell her, are you?”

“Psht! Of course, I’m not! I’ll let you get your first meet with him over, decide if you feel like you’re gonna see him again, and then you can tell her. Yeah, she’ll likely be pissed that I didn’t share it with her, but we know how she is. She worries; she’s your mom, she loves you to death. Just make sure you check in with me a couple of times, though, so I know you’re alright.”

“Of course, I will.” She promised, continuing down the aisle. Looking at her watch, she despaired of herself, counting the hours. Fifty and a half to go, and he’d be landing in Provo at 6:30pm on Thursday. Seven hundred and eighty miles south, and someone else was feeling a few trepidations about that time, too.  

“You're nervous, aren't you? C'mon you can tell me, I won't say anything to EZ,” said Sharise, she and Angel sitting outside of the clubhouse together, enjoying the last of the warmth before the temperature dipped.

“I don’t know if nervous is the right word. Like, I’m not nervous about meeting her because she’s a girl I’m into, and I wanna see if there could be something there, but I am about what it’s all stemmed from. I dunno if that makes any sense to anyone else, but it does to me.”  

His revelation landed well with her, Sharise taking the blunt she had rested behind her ear and lighting it up. “I hear you, Angel. It’ll further cement her existence in reality, or more pertinently, your reality. I can imagine it’s s prospect that’s making your head spin, despite the fact you’re chatting to her regularly. Meeting her makes it a hundred percent real, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it, Bob.” He hesitated for a minute, Sharise side eyeing him as she passed the blunt.  

“What else, Angel?”

He took a long drag, holding the smoke tightly in his chest, steadily exhaling it again in a thick plume down his nose. “I kinda don’t know how to play it. We say we’re just friends and shit, but it’s obvious that there’s a little more there. Attraction at the very least. She’s shy, though, and I don’t know how to be around shy women. I ain’t being arrogant, but I’m not used to that.”  

“That’s not arrogant, I mean you’re right, they do usually throw themselves at you and you have to do very little to instigate that. Just let Keri take the lead, hold back, add about a half pound of subtlety to your flirting. Be charming without being like a sexual A bomb going off.” Her hand gripped his shoulder, stroking his arm. “I have faith in you. See where it all goes, and if she seems comfortable, then there you go. I know you’re not always the best at picking up on subtleties...”  

He was immediately affronted, interrupting to voice such. “Hey, I can read cues!”

She scoffed softly, taking the blunt back from him. “A skill that’s entirely dependent on your alcohol intake, so just keep that to a minimum and you’ll be fine. Like I said, I have faith in you.”

“I’m glad someone does.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, resting his head to hers. If he had a best friend in the world, they came as a pair. His brother and Sharise. That night, he arrived home at 1am, crawling into bed and falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, finding himself in a dream.  

He walked a sunny beach, the wet sand warm and squidgy beneath his bare feet, seeing a figure standing further along the shoreline.  

“Nice ocean, huh?” Keri turned to him, smiling, reaching to give him a hug.  

“Yeah, it is.” She looked out over the crystal blue sea, her eyes finding the waves, the sunlight making the green hues in her hazel eyes sparkle like pale emeralds. “So, we meet up for real tomorrow. Not gonna lie, I’m kinda shitting myself.”

He laughed softly, a little grunt through his nose. “Why? It’s only me, and you do sort of know me a little bit already.”

She shrugged within his embrace. “I guess that’s true, but still.”

“You’ll be fine, we both will. It’ll be weird though, won’t it? Weird but good.”  

She was about to reply, but the dream changed suddenly, a large wave appearing out of nowhere and breaking onto the beach, pulling her beneath the water. Angel looked all around for her, running to the ocean and diving in, searching beneath the water for her to no avail. He then felt a pull within his abdomen, opening his eyes to see himself back in the white bedroom.  

Turning to his side, he saw her there, curled up asleep. He reached over, stroking her head with the back of his knuckle, Keri not stirring. He felt calm settle over him, slipping from the dream into undisturbed sleep.  

By the time the day of his departure came, he was a picture of chilled, merely experiencing little ripples of excitement rushing through him every time he thought about it throughout the morning. Keri, however...

“Beets! You're gonna have the college billing you for the groove you’re wearing in the carpet. Come sit, fuck! You’re exhausting me just witnessing the pacing!”

Up and down the study suite Keri paced, nerves twisting through her, little pulses of energy she had no idea how to get rid of or redirect making her feel nauseous. “I’m nervous, alright?”

Frankie tilted her head back, amusement playing her features. “Oh, really? I could never tell.”

“This is not the time for sarcasm,” she pouted, her wrist being caught as she was promptly steered into a seat.

“No, but it is the time for calming you down a little,” she spoke, grasping her hands, her thumbs stroking her knuckles. “So, what’s the plan? You gonna meet us at The Lounge later, or just head back to ours and bang the pull out into a brand-new shape?”

“Frances!”

She snort laughed immediately. “Oh god, you called me by my actual name. Must be bad!”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

Frankie was even further entertained by that. “Sure, he’s flying over seven hundred miles to meet a girl he doesn’t like.”

“You know what I mean!” Keri pulled herself back then, taking a breath. “Sorry, that was a little sharp.”

She received a shrug, Frankie knowing well how wound up she could get. “S’okay.”

“You know what I mean though, right? What if he thinks I’m a total calamity?”

“You are a total calamity, beets. This is why we love you, though. I’m sure Angel will find that endearing. Just try not to spill anything on him.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “Oh god, don’t jinx me!”

Frankie clapped as she threw her head back, laughing hard. “You’re adorable, I swear. For real, though, try to calm down a little, save you making yourself all jittery. I would say let’s go for a few drinks, but you’re driving. I dunno, maybe do some deep breathing exercises?”  

“I think taking my mind off it might work, either that or I need to go and jog around the campus, rid myself of this nervous energy.”

“Nope, you’ll get all sweaty.” Ahhh, she made a good point. “Okay, I’m choosing Instagram funnies.” Frankie was glad to get a few laughs out of her, but she saw it clearly, the fact that beneath the cheerful veneer, she was still panicking. That mood lasted long into the early evening, too.

“What if he only wants to meet up so he can bang me?” she put to her friends, sitting with them in The Lounge, waiting for the time she had to leave. Twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds. Yes, she was down to counting the seconds tick by.  

“Then is he really any great loss?” Jaime put to her.

“Alright, I guess that’s sensible.” Silence passed, Frankie and Jaime waiting on it, for they knew there’d be further musings added. “What if he takes one look at me, turns and walks away?”

Frankie snorted. “Now you’re just being ridiculous! You have that man all over your Insta, telling you how pretty you are, and all over you in your dreams, for crying out loud! Look, I know it’s early, but why don’t you leave now, get there nice and early, have a coffee, try not to spill it on yourself, and just woosah for a little while?”  

Woosah? She’d require about ten shots of tequila all sunk one after the other to achieve such a state of relaxed ambience, but agreed that Frankie’s idea was a good one, giving them both a hug before departing. Keri was glad to have taken that advice, the traffic absolutely hellish, since a burst pipe had meant the usual route she’d have taken to the airport now incurred a detour, one which crawled slowly, such was the volume of rerouted traffic.  

“Calm and easy, calm and easy.” she repeated to herself, trying not to think he’d be wondering if she’d stood him up, since the traffic meant she’d be arriving ten minutes after he’d landed. After parking, she hurried through the airport over to the correct terminal, finding it and seeing the gate had been shut, meaning all passengers had alighted. He was there, somewhere.  

“Hey, pretty girl.” Right behind her. That was where he was.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” she cried, turning and then feeling her heart practically catapult out of her chest, witnessing him in the flesh for the first time. God, he was even more attractive in person. It made her feel weak inside, like it was finally confirmed to her. He was real, right there in front of her.  

“You walked past me, I was coming back from fetching my bag. Anyway, there's something more important here. I haven't been hugged yet.” Placing his bag down on the floor, he smiled down at her, opening his arms. It felt beyond strange to have her sink into them in reality, the whole situation hitting him in the chest, but god, it was wonderful.  

She fitted perfectly against him, just tall enough in her boots for him to be able to rest his chin atop her head as he held her, thinking to himself how tiny and cute she was, even more so than her pictures had shown.

As they stood there, content in each other's embrace, they didn’t speak, both a little spooked out at the craziness of it. After everything, there they were, the utterly inconceivable had drawn them together in reality, and for that moment, time stood perfectly still. They were more than happy to let it, too.