#today's props goes to:

[hijinxinprogress]

The JL keeps trying to stop Captain Marvel from talking to the media (and it’s not working)

The jl held a meeting about marvel’s conduct with cops bc he got a little too excited and suplexed a cop completely fucking forgetting he’s a 7ft buff ass man (the video goes viral for months) and the press is having a fucking field day with this bc ‘Captain Marvel Hates The Government!’ ‘Justice League Member, Captain Marvel, Shows His True Colors…?’ ‘Fawcett Superhero Attacks Civilian!’ ‘Captain Marvel Sends Police Officer to ICU!’ ‘Philadelphia Hero Puts Public Servant In Coma’ and shit like that is on the front page of every newspaper, magazine, and tabloid for the next eight months at least

so they’re like ‘hey you gotta say something! The people think you hate the us government esp the police!’ and he’s just sitting there confused before he says very slowly and clearly ‘But I do…I fucking despise them’

Barry and Hal are fucking losing it bc this is the guy that says ‘darn!’ in the heat of battle and has said on multiple occasions ‘Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?’ to opponents that destroy worlds for fun

like this guy still tries very hard not to make faces at the broccoli on his plate in front of the jl (and fails)

this guy hears a yj member or even the very adult titans cussing and going on the longest rant bc ‘I’ve not heard such foul language in all my years-!’ and what’s this ‘‘I’m an adult’ nonsense?? I’m older than Ravens grandfather 🤨 When you get to be my age-’

they’re all so pissed when they hear him cussing like a sailor playing video games on cyborgs phone the next day and he’s playing fucking temple run at that

[seagulley]

why must dogs prefer vomiting on soft surfaces? asking for a friend

[thedarklyblue]

i want to KICK someone !!!

[aro-tarot]

Meh. I can start to feel the numbing stuff just slightly starting to go away, but I can't take painkillers because my tea is too hot to drink.

[classyrbf]

aaaaa plzzz do nanami getting a boner when y/n is speaking to him and they end up fucking? (Established relationship)

<33

YOU TURN ME ON! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami is so easily turned on when it comes to you, he can’t help but get hard at the slightest things

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, reverse cowgirl, praise, spanking, creampie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“So how was your day?” You asked your husband as he loosened his tie, a long sigh leaving his lips as he slipped his jacket off.

“The usual. I don’t wanna bore you,” he chuckled. He sat at the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and tossing them to the side. He could feel the bed dip behind him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. His eyes closed shut, embracing your warmth. “How was your day, darling?” He asked.

You hopped off of the bed in front of him, grabbing his shoes from the floor and placing them on the rack. “Well, I went to the mall today!” You smiled.

“Yeah? You buy anything?” He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he stared at you in adoration. He couldn’t be more lucky to have you as his wife.

“Actually, I did. There was this cute dress that I wanted. You remember the one I showed you?” You asked. He nodded in response, a small smile creeping up on his face. “Well I found it in my size, and it was the last one. But, Ken, it’s so much prettier in person!” You said with excitement. Running over to the closet, you pulled the dress off the rack and held it up. “What do you think?”

“I think the color goes great with your skin. Makes it glow,” he explained. He could see the smile widen on your face. He loves when you get excited about the little things in life.

“Awe thank you, Ken,” you giggled, turning around to put the dress back on the rack. His eyes scanned over your figure, the shorts that exposed your legs, the tank top you wore making it obvious your nipples were hard. “Ken!” You shout.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, blinking away his confusion. He could feel his slacks slightly tighten as he shifted in his spot on the bed.

“I was talking about the new bed set I saw in the mall. Did you hear me?” You walked over to him, straddling his lap.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t. Please, tell me again.” His hands rest on your waist, gently caressing your skin as you began talking again. He stared at you as your mouth moved, going on and on about how you think it’ll match the room. “You should’ve gotten it,” he said.

“I know, but I wanted your opinion first!” You whine. “After all, you sleep here too.” You peck his lips. Nanami let out a small groan, pushing his hips back. “You okay?” You ask, looking at him with concern.

“Yeah, it’s just…um…” Nanami let out a breath, trying to hide the fact he got turned on just from you talking about your day and walking around the room. It was quite embarrassing. But with each passing second you were on his lap, he was getting harder. “Darling, I’m sorry, I’m hard.” He looked up at you.

“Oh…oh!” You laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “Ken, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t even do anything sexual, I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m some kind of perv—”

“What’s wrong with a man being attracted to his wife?” You question, staring into his eyes.

“Sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that…fuck,” he whispers under his breath. Within seconds, you push Nanami onto the bed, catching him by surprise. Your hands are moving quick to undo his belt. “You don’t have to—”

“Shush, Ken,” you demand, pulling down his pants. His cock springs free, already dripping with precum. “How are you so hard already?” You giggle, feeling arousal pool in your panties.

“You turn me on, darling.” He props himself up on his elbows as you remove your clothing, kicking aside your shorts and panties. Your crawl onto the bed, faces inches apart before you plant your lips on his, tongues moving against one another, biting down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ken.” You peck his lips once more before turning your back towards him, angling yourself above his cock. You lift your hips just so enough so you can slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. A small gasp leaves your lips, a groan escaping from your husband.

“Fuck you’re so warm and tight,” he breathes, his hands coming up to squeeze your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s entranced at the way his dick completely disappears into your cunt, sucking him in without hesitation.

You start to pick up the pace, growing more comfortable as your hips move faster, your juices dripping down his shaft. “Ah! Yes!” You hold onto his legs for support, while he watches the way your ass ripples against his dick. “Shit!” You wince, throwing your head back.

“Atta girl. There you go, sweetheart.” He lands a slap on your ass, guiding it up and down his cock. “Oh fuck, you always you always make me feel so good,” he moans. Your pussy clenches around him as you continue to slam your hips against his.

You reach your hand down to rub your clit in circles, adding to the stimulation as his cock hit your g-spot over and over. Pleasure coursed through your body, aching badly for an orgasm. Whimpers and moans from you and Nanami filled your bedroom, along with the sound of skin on skin. “Ohhh, Ken!” You whined. “Shit, baby!” You panted.

“You’re doing so good for me. Look back at me, darling, I wanna see my pretty girl.” His brows furrowed slightly as you milked his cock, he could tell you were getting desperate to cum. “There’s my girl. Keep looking at me while you ride me.”

You bit your bottom lip, muffling some of your moans and whimpers, trying your best to keep the exact rhythm you had going. Nanami cursed under his breath, eyes darting back and forth between your face and your ass. He couldn’t get enough of you. The way his tip kissed you cervix and bumped your sweet spot each time made your head spin. The curve of his dick making you arch even more.

Thick fingers squeeze the plump flesh of your ass, stuttering hips still set on riding him. “Fuck…s-slow down, sweetheart—ah! You’re gonna make me cum.” He grabs at your hips, a weak attempt to slow down your movements, but you’re so set on fucking him, feeling every last inch of your husband. You don’t care how much of a mess you make, how loud you get. It turns you on knowing your husband gets so worked up about the little things. A groan leaves his lips, head falling back in bliss as you practically ride him to cloud nine, his orgasm approaching just as quickly as yours.

Your little pants and whimpers fill his ears, eyes set on your husband glossy eyes, so fixated on the way your pussy is suck him in. His abs tense up, hand squeezing down on your ass and pulling you flush against his pelvis as he cums inside of you. The sheer feeling alone sends your orgasm raking through your body, quivering. “Oh my god!” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut. You slowly lift your hips before bringing them back down, fucking his cum into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” he coos, watching his cum ooze out of your sweet cunt. “Goddamn,” he sighs when you finally stop riding him. His dick twitches at the missed sensation of your gummy walls.

“If I knew just how easily I turn you on, I would’ve done this more often,” you tease, placing a wet kiss on his neck.

“Should’ve known already, pretty girl.” He playfully smacks your ass, earning a small laugh from you. “We’ll clean up in second, just give me a few.”

[sturnsreckless]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐋,, c.sturniolo

summary: while you were away visiting family in florida chris sent you a video of him showing the clothes you had ordered

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

wc: 1189 words

you had left chris two weeks ago to go visit your family in florida for a month, and before you left you made a clothing order and while you were on your trip chris sent you a video of him giving you a ‘haul’ of the clothes you bought.

you were laying in your bed, ready to put a show on and go to sleep when you felt your phone vibrate with a bunch of snapchat notifications. when you turned your screen around and saw chris’ name show up you were instantly confused, you and chris never used snapchat to communicate.

chris had sent you some kind of video, considering the amount of notifications you just got from him. he wasn’t one to spam so you were curious as to what he had sent you. pressing his name and opening up the messages, your screen was suddenly filled with the familiar sight of your handsome boyfriend holding up a big bag of the clothes you had ordered online before you left for florida.

a smile instantly came over your face as you realised what he was going to do. his voice began to fill your ears, pretending to be you.

he began speaking in a much higher pitched voice then usual, trying to act like you as he picked up the first piece of clothing from the bag. you couldn’t help but giggle, he was so cute no matter what he did.

“hey guys, today i’ve got a clothes haul. so let’s get started” he said, with a high pitched funny voice.

but as soon as he started talking again but his voice was normal but still pretending it was his haul.

he held up the first top he found in the bag, examining in his hands as he held it up close to the camera. “let’s start with...this adorable top...” he spoke, pretending to act as if it was his own order. but you knew chris well enough to know he knew nothing about girls clothes nor would he ever wear a top like that.

“the adorable top…that looks like it will be see through when i put it on my body — amazing, i love when that happens” he says sarcastically, holding up the strapless white tube top.

he grabbed another one out from the bag, he held it up in his hands with a confused look on his face, “and... what the fuck is this?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the camera with a cocky grin. he held up a black backless halter top, “and of course this is for when i’m going to an orgy” he jokes as he notices how revealing the top is.

he continued to look through the bag of clothes, each one getting more revealing than the last. he pulled out a black mini skirt, he held it up in front of his face, looking at it with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“and this little skirt is obviously for when i’m feeling frisky” he joked, slightly wiggling his eyebrows with a pout at the camera.

he delved back into the bag, pulling out the next item. he pulled out a packet of thongs, he looked at them with a cheeky smile forming on his face as he held them up for the camera, “and, of course, we can’t forget these. the fucking bit of string that goes up my ass, but at least they have little cute bows on the front.” he chuckled, shaking the packet in his hand.

the bag was beginning to become empty, only two items left. he pulled out a bikini, a thong bikini with a triangle top. he held up the tiny little dark blue bikini, looking at it with a mix of shock and awe, “wow, this is… something else.” he chuckled, holding it up next to his body to compare how small it was to him.

“chat should i model it for yall?” he says with a cheeky giggle, he looks down at the bikini before looking back up at the phone that was propped up videoing him. he smirked before pulling on the bottoms over his shorts, and attempts to put on the top, but gets confused when all the tying comes into play.

he struggled trying to figure out how to tie the top on, his hands getting tangled in the strings as he tried to figure it out. he grumbled under his breath as he struggled, mumbling curses and profanities as he tried to pull the string to tie in a bow around his chest.

“finally” he says as he got it tied, very messily, around his body. he struck a pose, mocking you, “hi my names y/n and this is my new bikini, what do you all think? do i look sexy?” he mocks your voice before breaking character and laughing.

“okay i gotta get this shit off, im embarrassing myself so bad right now” he laughed as he fumbled with the strings and sliding the bottoms off his body. he was about to throw them back in the bag before he saw he had slightly stretched the bikini, “oh shit…sorry baby, i���ll get you a new one.” he said before throwing the bikini in a bag.

he looked at the bag where he had just thrown the bikini, guilt suddenly washing over his face. he knew how excited you were to get that bikini, and he hated the thought of having ruined it for you.

“damn, i can’t believe i stretched it out. i’ll have to get you another one for when you get back.” he muttered to the camera, scratching the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“back to the haul” he says dismissing the bikini before reaching in and taking out the last item, a dress. he held the dress up and looking at it confused due to all the strings and whatnot, “all i see is black lace and a bunch of strings. i’m not even gonna pretend i know what this is supposed to look like but no doubt you’ll look amazing in it.” he smiles before placing all your items back in the bag with a smirk.

“and that concludes my haul, i hope you all loved it. comment and like for more.” he says mocking your voice again, before pressing the end button on the video and pressing send to you.

as you finished watching the video, your face broke out into a wide smile. chris was always so goofy and adorable, and the way he was trying to pretend to be you was just too much. you couldn’t help but giggle at how silly he looked trying to wear the bikini and not knowing what to do with the dress, once your giggles died down you typed out a reply to chris’ videos.

dude are u fr😭😭 i literally just got those and you already stretched them

for an orgy???? SO DRAMATIC

i’ll let it all slide since im laughing so hard and because you’re cute

@sturnsreckless

[dumbbitchgalore]

“Wanna cum? Too fucking bad Birdie.” - Blue collar!Price 💙

Running a construction company was no joke. Idiotic workers, idiotic clients and idiotic paperwork fucked with his head more times than it should. Today was astronomically strenuous, his workers came in late, the council didn't approve of the building plans and now he's left with trucks loaded with concrete mix with no place to use it. So what better than to get his baby to help him with his stress?

And that is how you exactly found yourself in such a position. With your body slick with sweat, thighs burning from exhaustion as you slide up and down John's chubby cock. Head thrown back as you use hand to keep yourself propped up. Hands in front of you or behind you for support, nothing felt comfortable.

Your body ached, your throat dry and hoarse from pleading, begging, whinning. John on the other hand had a smirk on his face, arm resting behind his head as he looked at you doing all the work. He saw how tired you were, so how desperately you wanted to cum. But as if he's gonna let you cum that easily. If he has to work so do you; he works for money and you for your release.

You groan with exhaustion, planting your hands on his chest as you continue to ride him.

"God, baby... please-" You begin to plead again only to be cut off by his deep voice.

"No." He gives your arse a smack, making you yelp and ride him harder, faster.

"You have to work for it. Home makers have to work too, ya know."

You whine, unable to keep up your pace. Laying on top of him, you begin to lazily rock your hip as fatigue took over you. John tuts your action, gripping your hips as he guides your action.

"What a lazy little baby you are." He mocks, flipping you over and onto your back on the bed.

He hovers over you, a smirk plastered on his face giving your nipple a pinch before smacking your tits hard, leaving a light handprint. You cry out, pain and pleasure mixing together within your views. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you pull him close to you. He cock flush against your dripping cunt.

John huffs at your pathetic attempts for an orgasm. Rolling his eyes, he decides to give in. Putting a pillow under your hips before sliding his cock inside your pussy causing you both to moan in unison. He pistons in and out of your weeping pussy as it drools into the pillow underneath you. The height providing John with an angle to perfectly hit the gummy spot inside of you that made you see stars.

Back arched, you groan cockdrunk. You grab the headboard to ground yourself slightly. You began to see your heavenly release in sight as John continued to bully your cervix.

John presses his hand down on your abdomen causing your body to jerk. Your impending orgasm growing stronger as your sight goes hazy. His continuous pace causes you to topple over the edge, your release coating his lower abdomen, your body shaking as John own orgasm washes over him, coating your gummy walls with his cum.

He pulls out slowly groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of your used hole. His thumb begins to smear his cream all over your pussy making his way to your clit, rubbing it gently as your body jerks from the oncoming overstimulation causing John to chuckle softly at your body's response.

"Oh, sweetheart. Gonna tap out before your old man?"

[skzms]

📹ᡣ𐭩₊˚⊹ free, when you’re here with me lee minho x f!reader x han jisung

summary: one time you and jisung tease minho while he's live. another time you and minho return the favour. and the third time ... well, let's just say they're both live that time.

word count: 9.6k words

author's note: first fic back from sea may rise is my brand - minsung and exhibitionism. I have had this idea in my drafts for half a year now and I finally got around to writing it. straight filth. enjoy!

warnings: sexting and getting hard on live; porn without plot; established relationship; canon compliant; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); daddy kink; big on the exhibitionism; sexting and images and videos of sexual acts; sex toys; size queen behaviour from our reader; masturbation; oral; pubic hair bc it's sexy and I said so; they keep talking about tanghulu because it's canon and they need to be freed from these repetitive questions

skzms' masterlist

ᡣ𐭩 ONE

“‘Hi Lee Know, how are you today?’ Hiii, I’m good, how are you?” Minho singsongs, dutifully, throws a look at the camera propped up on the table in front of him, then back down at his phone where Bubble is open.

At least he’s alone in the room today. It’s always much less awkward when there are three staff members watching him provide fan service and make faces at a phone.

“’How was your day?’ My day was alright. Had a schedule this morning really early, but we finished around noon. I got galbitang for lunch, ate it with Kim Seungmin.”

He watches the chat predictably explode into messages about him and Seungmin, about Seungmin’s new show, whether he’d seen it. He gives it a second.

On the top of his screen, a message pops up.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: jisungie 🐹🍑 who allowed you to look so damn good when you’re not here

Minho doesn’t bother to hide the smirk that takes over his face as he reads the message.

“Ah, Kim Seungmin’s Song By, yes, I watched it. Who knew dogs could sing like that, huh.”

He knows this simple sentiment will buy him enough time to respond to Jisung.

from: minho got nothing better to do than watch my live?

The reply is instant. It’s a picture of Jisung and you, cuddled up together in what Minho can clearly tell is Jisung’s bed, based on the dark grey, checkered sheets and the orange and purple glow of Jisung’s LED lights.

from: y/n 😻 we just miss you :(

Minho resists the urge to roll his eyes, fondness dangerously squeezing at his chest. He swipes back to Bubble, takes a quick look at the chat, but everyone’s still talking about Seungmin’s show.

“Ah, yes, the song. I know it. He talked about it for a week before filming. He was very worried about his choice, but he chose it well.”

Quickly, he swipes back and is greeted by the picture again.

It’s adorable. Your head, pillowed on Jisung’s arm, eyes scrunched up in a smile as you lean up and into his neck. Jisung’s smile is soft, his cheek squished against your forehead. You’re both still dressed exactly like how he left you, Jisung in his oversized sweatshirt, you in one of Minho’s t-shirts. God, he wishes he could be there instead of here.

from: minho I left like an hour ago

Then he goes back to Bubble.

For a few minutes, there’s no new notification. Minho even finds himself swiping back to your group chat to check, but you and Jisung are suspiciously quiet. He answers a question about Soondoongdori, but secretly he wonders if your words, the fact that you missed him, weren’t true at all.

But then, four messages come in in quick succession.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 sorry, hyung, we got a little distracted wanna see? turn your volume off

The thumbnail of the video is blurry, but Minho can make out the colours of your clothes. He doesn’t know if he hopes it is what he thinks it is or if he should hope it’s something much more innocuous.

And Minho shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t open a video while he’s live on Youtube with thousands of people watching. But if there’s one thing that he loves more than he loves his job, it’s you and Jisung, and especially videos of you and Jisung. The photo gallery of his secret private phone is proof of that.

So he puts his phone on mute. Clicks the volume down until it shows it’s silent, and then clicks the lower volume button 30 more times for good measure. Angles his phone, so nobody can see, though he knows they can’t. And he clicks play.

It plays silently, Minho notes with an internal sigh of relief, but that fact is soon forgotten when he takes in the view. The framing is as gorgeous as it is simple. The camera hovers over you and Jisung’s upper bodies, cutting off right above your noses and right below your chests. You must be holding it because Jisung’s hand is cupping your cheek, your chin, black painted nails digging into the meat of your cheek as he absolutely devours you.

Or really, you devour each other, swapping filthy, wet open-mouthed kisses, tongues meeting somewhere in the middle, laving against each other. Then Jisung wraps his plump lips around your bottom lip and sucks, making your body arch into him, your hand scrambling to wrap around the back of his neck to get better access and arousal hits Minho like a tidal wave. You kiss Jisung harder, drag your nails over his scalp as you lick into his mouth, so deep Minho thinks he can hear the phantom of Jisung’s moan in his ears and Jisung kisses back, a dribble of spit running down the soft skin of your chin and the video ends.

And Minho realises he’s live.

It takes all of his idol training to swallow down his panic, to seemingly calmly swipe back to Bubble and check the messages when his brain feels hazy, and he can feel his cock pulsing in his sweats. But nobody seems to have noticed. All the messages are just the usual ‘notice me’s or ‘make a heart!��s.

His phone vibrates in his sweaty hand.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 I can’t believe you watched the video on live I’m so fucking hard that’s so hot

from: y/n 😻 don’t worry, it wasn’t obvious our pro idol <3

Minho bites back a scoff.

from: minho you two are fucking crazy

He shoots the message back and swipes back to Bubble.

“’Lino-yah, do you prefer kimchijigae or doenjangjigae?’ Kimchijigae, always!”

from: y/n 😻 does that mean you don’t want another video?

Minho could not give less of a fuck about Kimchijigae right now. The seconds he waits for another video to come in are agonising. He tries to respond to as many comments that fly past as he can, while he still can, before the message finally pops up.

from: y/n 😻 <kjs3js9asu8.mp4>

He swipes across and nearly lets out a groan at the thumbnail. Jisung’s bare, broad shoulders and brown, curly mop of hair, between your thick soft thighs, bathed in purple and orange lights. It looks like art.

Minho punches the volume down button another few times for good measure and hits play.

In the top of the frame, the ends of your, no his t-shirt, rucked up enough to expose the soft curves of your waist, your belly. Jisung is settled between your soft thighs, one of them slung over his broad, honey skinned shoulder, his hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place, ringed fingers digging into your skin. Minho wants them in his fucking mouth.

Jisung’s face is buried in your pussy. Nose-deep, hair bobbing with every lave of his stupidly talented tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in what Minho knows is ecstasy. His legs are spread, hips grinding into the mattress, his pert little ass in his sweats just about visible from how you’re holding the camera.

And then Jisung takes your clit into his mouth, flutters his glassy eyes open and sucks, and Minho watches the muscles in your belly ripple and your back arch. Jisung’s eyes are still on you, but then he flattens his tongue and licks at you obscenely and makes eye contact with the camera, and Minho’s cock throbs.

Your fingers thread into Jisung’s hair, pulls his head back so hard his eyes roll, and his mouth falls open, purple lights making the juices on his chin glisten. You shove him back down, and he goes willingly, dives lower, head bobbing harder, pink tongue peeking out from his rosebud lips. Then the video ends.

Minho is rock hard in his sweats. He forces himself to swipe back to Bubble. Half crazed, half out of his fucking mind, he looks for something to reply to.

“If Lee Know sees this comment he’ll wink,” he reads, looks at the camera with a deadpan expression and does a silly wink.

He wants to end this live right now and run home, but he promised their manager he’d stay on for longer today.

He swipes back to your chat.

from: minho did jisungie make you cum?

The answer is immediate.

from: y/n 😻 mhm yeah he did so good <IMG_363762.jpeg>

A picture. Of your face. Flushed and fucked out, hair messy against the pillow, a pretty little smile on your bitten lips. Minho is about to fucking lose his mind.

Subtly, he shifts in his chair, bites back a hiss when his cock drags against his boxers in a way that feels a little too good. Then he forces himself back to Bubble.

But the top of his screen lights up with another notification.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 when are you coming home, jagi? we want you so bad you and your stupidly big cock I bet it’s so hard right now

“My favourite song off the last album is Blind Spot,” he half growls out. His leg is jumping, his heart thundering in his chest. The chat goes wild. Hannie’s song! Minsung is real, guys.

Possessiveness always comes easier when his cock is hard, and he’s thinking about them.

“Exactly,” he just says. No indication what he responded to. It’s all he’s allowed to. But hopefully enough of them will know.

From: y/n 😻 <97jdn2yns.mp4>

He swipes over immediately.

Jisung. Filmed from your vantage point, clearly, if your bare thighs on either side of his beautiful waist are anything to judge by. Then your hand, manicured nails reaching up to Jisung’s mouth, tapping your middle and ring finger against his lips. Jisung blinks slowly, then opens his mouth, dutifully. He swallows your fingers down greedily.

inho has to actually bite back a moan. His cock twitches pathetically in his sweats. He hums a random melody, trying to distract the people on his stupid live from the fact that he hasn’t said anything in a couple of seconds.

But his brain, his cock, his entire nervous system – it’s all attuned to you. Jisung, flushed and fucked out, sucking on your fingers, his eyes rolling into the back of his head like he’s in some fucking hentai. Minho adores it.

The angle changes. With your fingers still in Jisung’s mouth, you lean over, prop up the phone against something on the other side of the bed, brows furrowed in a concentration so adorable it makes him want to ruin you, before you return to straddling Jisung’s waist, Jisung’s pretty hands splayed over your thighs.

Jisung sucks on your fingers harder, his eyes threatening to flutter shut as you lean forward, closer until you finally remove your soaking wet fingers from his lips. Jisung sucks in a breath and Minho knows that if he had his sound on, he would’ve heard the most delicious whimper.

With bated breath, Minho watches as you and Jisung stare at each other, before you dip down and replace your fingers with your lips. Jisung surges up, his hands wrapping around your waist like a man starved, and Minho swears he gets dizzy for a moment.

He doesn’t think he blinks once for the last few seconds of the video, watching you kiss Jisung into the mattress, watching Jisung’s hands grab at you wherever he can reach, kneading your ass, your hips, your waist, rucking up your shirt until he can pull it over your head, your naked tits pressing against Jisung’s chest.

The video ends and Minho swears his ears are ringing. His whole body is burning with a desire that makes his teeth ache. His cock is so hard it fucking hurts, pulsing where it lies against his thigh, hard and leaking and neglected.

He forces himself to swipe back to Bubble again.

“‘If Lee Know oppa doesn’t see this, it means we’re married’,” Minho reads with a shaky voice, and it shocks a laugh out of him.

The only people he’s married to, mind, soul, body, entirely, stupidly, are you and Jisung. He wishes he could scream it from the fucking rooftops.

“Ha,” he answers out loud, smirks at the camera, “well, it can’t be helped. Guess we’re not married.”

He feels crazy. Insane. He wonders how much longer he has to be live when another message comes in.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 fuck, hyung, I can hear it in your voice please come home please <093knahi2.mp4>

Minho holds out long enough to answer one more question, something about a trendy new street food snack, before he scrolls back to their chat and clicks on the video like a man possessed.

It’s Jisung’s perspective this time. Jisung’s point of view of your naked, beautiful body, glowing shades of orange and purple, sheen of sweat making you shimmer like a thousand diamonds, twirling your hips up and down on Jisung’s cock.

Minho’s spit catches in his throat, and he nearly drops his phone, so harshly does it make him cough. His face is burning, probably bright red, but at least now he has an excuse.

“Ah, sorry, everyone,” he groans out, gives the camera a sheepish look.

Then he looks down again. He missed a few seconds of the video, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t scroll back.

There it is again. Your body, the body he knows so well, your tits, your belly, the dip of your waist, the plush of your skin, the little patch of hair right over your cunt, which is, oh fuck, perfectly, snugly, wetly wrapped around Jisung’s cock. Your juices are shimmering in the light where they’re wetting the coarse, short curls around the base of Jisung’s cock. Your head is thrown back, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Jisung’s hand is resting on your waist, then trailing up, guiding you up and down in a slow, deliberate grind, before it snakes up, and he grabs a fistful of your tits in his big hands, rubbing his thumb over the hard bud of your nipple.

Minho has to pause the video.

His underwear is wet. He hasn’t said anything in at least a minute. He … fuck, he’s actually out of breath.

Bubble he reminds himself. He swipes over clumsily, answers the first thing he sees.

“’Have you ever had Tanghulu?’ Aaaah, yes, of course. Everyone’s had it, right?” he actually sounds out of breath, fuck. He wonders if they’re still watching. If they’re seeing him, flustered, out of breath, or if they’re too busy fucking each other’s brains out. “I don’t typically like sweets. The texture is nice, though. The crunch is good. And the fruit is sweet.”

He knows what’s sweet, and it’s the sounds you make when you get fucked just right. It’s the skin behind Jisung’s ear that he could suck on for hours. It’s the pre-cum that drools out of Jisung’s cock, the taste of your chapstick in the morning when Minho licks it off your lips.

He’s had enough.

“Ah, would you look at the time, Stay. I’m gonna go and devour some tanghulu right now. Bye!”

He reaches over with shaky fingers, pushes the end button.

Everything happens in slow motion. He double-checks that the live ended, locks the phone, places it facedown on the table for good measure.

Then he swipes back to your chat. He finds the last video. He clicks play cranks up the volume, and shoves his hand into his sweats.

Moans, so much sweeter than candied fruit. Jisung’s, high and needy, yours, a little further away, breathless, desperate.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Jisung moans into the microphone and Minho throws his head back with a moan of his own. His cock drools.

Minho starts working his hand over his cock faster, the slide slick and loud in the empty room. You whimper, lean forward, your hands coming to rest on Jisung’s chest, digging your nails into his skin if Jisung’s gasp is anything to go by.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Jisung groans, and Minho nearly cums. His eyes roll back and his cock throbs.

“J-Jisungie,” you whimper and Minho has to dig his nails into the skin of his thigh to keep his composure, “need m-more, pl-please.”

“Ah, fuck, baby, fuck,” Jisung keens, “yeah? You want it? Don’t want to wait for Min?”

Minho twists his wrist and pleasure zaps up his spine.

“C-can’t,” you whimper, and then there’s the sound of rustling. When Minho looks back at the video, it’s no longer pointing at you, but instead at the ceiling. But he can still hear you.

Punched out little ahs, falling from your lips in a never-ending stream, perfectly timed with the wet smack of skin against skin. Jisung fucking up into you, no doubt. Jisung swearing, a litany of curses and baby’s and so fucking good’s.

Minho whimpers into the empty room. The moans, the sound of skin against skin, the desperate pleas, your voice teary and broken, Jisung’s tone shifting higher and higher, cooing and praising you, it’s all too much.

Minho’s orgasm careens through him with the weight of freight truck. His hips buck up into nothing, trying to shove himself harder into the tight ring of his fist, his whole body locking up in pleasure. His vision whites out, and he vaguely registers himself moaning, hears you and Jisung fall apart, Jisung’s telltale hiccuping moan, your choked sob.

Then the video ends and Minho slowly comes down and there’s a gigantic wet mess in his boxers and utter silence in the room, except for the blood thumping in his ears.

ᡣ𐭩 TWO

“Hi Stay,” Jisung mumbles. Deep breath in, deep breath out. It’s just a stupid live. “How are you all today?”

He tugs at his shirt, then his over-shirt. Checks his expression in the little window that shows what he looks like. A strand of hair is sticking up a little, and he tugs it back into place.

People keep trickling in, the chat on Bubble picking up slowly but surely.

It’s not like he’s horribly nervous. Just a little. Being live, being expected to entertain, with no way to rest or edit, it always sets him on edge a little bit.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long. How have you been? Have you been well?”

His voice wobbles a bit, but then it settles. He takes a shaky breath in.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: y/nie 🌸💦 deep breaths, jagi you’re doing great

The smile that steals onto his face is real, his heart doing a little flip in his chest.

“I’ve been well, thank you,” he says, looks up at the camera, “you’ve been giving me lots of strength.”

He’s saying it to the audience, yes, but he hopes you know it’s also for you.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 ah I love you so much you’re so cute

Okay, he’s blushing now. Jisung leans back, watches his own glowing cheeks.

“I-I just got these earrings,” he hurries out, tugs at the little silver rings in his ears, “do you like them? I’ve been liking wearing earrings lately.”

The chat flies past. They do seem to like them. It makes him feel a little calmer.

from: hyung 😼🍆 the cutest

Jisung blushes harder, kicks his feet a little bit under the table. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the chat.

Ah, you’re so cute, Han-ah Why are you shy?

“Ah, I’m shy because you’re all very nice to me,” he says, blinks up at the camera, then back down, when his heart starts to race. But the spell of the first nerves is finally broken.

He chats here and there. Answers some questions, takes a few sips of his Iced Americano. Then a familiar comment pops up. It makes his smile dim.

“You can see my beard marks?” he asks, laughing awkwardly, “I shaved this morning and I even put on make-up, and you can still see them?”

Almost immediately, a message pops up on the top.

from: hyung 😼🍆 did they say something bad about your beard

Jisung can feel the protectiveness from here. It makes his cheeks warmer.

from: hyung 😼🍆 don’t listen to them, jagi your stubble is so fucking sexy you’re gorgeous

Jisung takes a deep breath, swipes back to Bubble. Similar messages greet him there, people defending him, calling it cute. Some people still question it, but he no longer cares.

from: hyung 😼🍆 our pretty boy our perfect boy y/nie thinks so, too

Jisung breathes out a flustered little chuckle, his cheeks burning hotter. Quickly, he opens the group chat.

From: jisung hyunggggggg stop ittttt I’m liveeeee

Jisung can hear Minho’s little chuckle in his head. You’re probably lying on his chest, reading their conversation. Absentmindedly, he brings the back of his hand to his cheek, trying to cool down.

He swipes back to Bubble and is about to answer a question someone sent about his most recent song when another message pops up

from: hyung 😼🍆 such a nice voice, too getting someone all riled up and needy in my lap

Jisung’s mouth runs dry. He mumbles something about having slept at 3am before he swipes back to the group chat.

from: jisung hyung…

from: hyung 😼🍆 what, baby? you don’t want to see?

Jisung fidgets nervously. Oh, this is so payback for last time when you and him did this to Minho. And he’s already half hard about it, heat pooling in his abdomen, cock filling out even faster because he knows how many people are watching.

from: jisung you know I do …

from: hyung 😼🍆 yeah? ask nicely, then

From: jisung 😑 hyungie pleasseeee~~~~ let me see her let me see you

The response is instant. Like the video was already filmed and Minho only had to click send. Damn him. He knew Jisung would fold.

from: hyung 😼🍆 <j29shl1998k.mp4>

It takes everything in Jisung to be patient, to swipe back to Bubble and find a message he can answer to buy himself some time. He mumbles something about tteokbokki being too spicy while he’s already swiping back again.

He clicks his volume down a million times, double, then triple checks it, and then finally holds his breath and presses play.

The video is only 10 seconds long. You’re lying on Minho’s chest, between his spread legs, but he can’t see you or Minho’s face. All he can see is your hips, your ass in your favourite sweats, subtly, slowly grinding, forwards. Jisung wishes he could turn up the volume because he knows you’re probably making the sweetest little sounds, and Minho is probably murmuring filthy nothings into the camera that would make a shudder run down Jisung’s spine.

Without the sound, it’s easy for Jisung to focus on all the details he can see, though. On the way your toes are curled in your socks. The way Minho’s legs spread wider, the muscles in his thigh jumping with a particularly good roll of your hips.

It ends all too soon.

He wants more. So much more. But he knows he can’t let that show or Minho will break this whole thing off. So he swipes back to Bubble, raises his head, his glowing cheeks stupidly obvious in the camera. He can play it off with Stay, can say it’s warm in the room. But you and Minho will know better.

He watches the comments run through, lets himself get distracted as he waits to see if Minho will do anything else.

“13 reached 3 million views on Youtube? Really? I didn’t know that,” he exclaims with a smile at the camera, and he’s actually impressed how normal his voice sounds. And three million! For a SKZ Record, one that is so dear to him, too.

A message pops up at the top of his screen.

from: hyung 😼🍆 did you watch it?

Jisung grins to himself. Maybe he wasn’t being as obvious as he thought.

He picks his next words carefully.

From: jisung I did

Then he swipes back to Bubble.

“Ah, yes, I still watch EXchange, though not as much as I did when I wrote that song. Life has been busy lately.”

Who has time to watch EXchange when there are almost always one or two people in your bed, indulging your need for naps and cuddles and blowjobs and unimaginably filthy marathon sex.

“Yes, we’re working on music. Of course. We always are!”

That, too. But the filthy marathon sex …

As if on cue, another message from Minho pops up.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jisungie, are you playing coy with me? do you think I don’t know you want more

Leisurely, Jisung swipes back to his messages.

from: jisung of course I want more, hyungie but I was trying to be patient be good for hyung

from: hyung 😼🍆 are you hard?

from: jisung a little … :3

from: hyung 😼🍆 I am someone got so needy she needed something in her mouth and you know how good her mouth is

Jisung’s body responds almost instantly. His cock twitches. Of course, he knows how your mouth is.

Jisung knows he could play coy again. He could wait it out, bait Minho into asking him again. But the knowledge of thousands of eyes on him and the thought of you, back at the dorm, in his bed …

From: jisung ok, hyung, I’ll bite pleaseee? can I see???

He swipes back to Bubble as fast as he can.

“‘Is it raining in Seoul?’ Ah, it’s not. It’s sunny,” he mumbles before he looks at the camera through his lashes. “The weather is really nice today.”

from: hyung 😼🍆 😺 <j39sh2kl478.mp4>

Jisung swipes back to his chat and nearly chokes from the thumbnail alone. Your head between Minho’s thick thighs, Minho’s hand in your hair.

But before he can click play, another message comes in.

from: hyung 😼🍆 fuck, baby the weather’s nice, huh fuck, I love you

It’s like Jisung can hear how turned on Minho is, and it sends him reeling. He punches the volume down button on his phone another few times and finally clicks on the video.

Minho is still in the same place he was on the bed, but his sweatpants are rucked down, pushed down enough to expose his cock. You’re lying in between his legs, back arched prettily, one of your hands wrapped around Minho’s thigh, your head bobbing up and down.

Not much is visible from how Minho is holding the camera, your face, and mouth obscured, but you’ve got him deep, your nose bumping into the trimmed hair above Minho’s cock, and it makes Jisung dizzy with want.

Minho’s hand is laced into your hair, leaving you to do as you please, until he suddenly pushes you down. You go willingly, let Minho wiggle your head back and forth before he pulls you back and up, pulling your mouth off his cock slowly, inch by inch, your unfocused eyes staring into the camera. It’s fucking obscene how much of his cock was inside your mouth, and Jisung thinks he might pass out. When the head of Minho’s cock pops free, and it slaps against his abdomen, Jisung nearly moans out loud.

Minho lets go of your hair and Jisung assumes he said something to you because the prettiest little smile tugs at your lips before you give Minho the filthiest bedroom eyes, right past the camera, and lean back to suck his cock back into your mouth.

When the video ends, Jisung wants to scream.

Still dizzy, he clears his throat and swipes back to Bubble. His mind is anywhere but here, but he dutifully scans the questions and babbles something about American cheesecake at some restaurant they went to.

Directly in his eye line, just below where he’s holding his phone, his cock is now rock solid, tenting the front of his sweats. There’s a little wet patch darkening the fabric, and Jisung has what he thinks is his best idea yet.

He looks up at the camera with an innocent smile, acting like he’s staring at Stay, but really he’s gauging just how far down the camera can see. He figures it’s high enough. He leans back, slouches a little, pretends to be engrossed in Stay’s comments, even lets out a little laugh like someone just said something funny.

Carefully, he swipes over to his camera app. Then, with his heart beating in his throat, he carefully grabs his waistband and tugs it up enough so his hard, leaking cock is visible. He snaps the picture, swipes back to Bubble.

“‘Is Alien still your favourite song?’ I think so! Though I have written a lot of songs that haven’t come out yet,” he comments casually, though he thinks he can hear his arousal in his own voice. It’s just a little more gravelly. A little lower.

from: hyung 😼🍆 you really watched it, huh I can hear it in your voice fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re turned on

Minho doesn’t usually say things like this, not on their main phones, not so candid, not with so many swear words – not unless he’s really turned on. And Jisung is about to put the final nail in the coffin.

From: jisung hyung :( look what you did <IMG_83792871.jpeg>

Jisung blinks up at the camera, his cheeks still flushed, his pupils blown to shit. 50 thousand people are watching. His cock twitches. He smiles.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jisung you didn’t oh my fucking god tell me you didn’t take that just now while you were live

Hook, line, and sinker.

Jisung takes his time. Talks about tanghulu, how he tried it with Felix, how he liked strawberry the most. How he heard that tomatoes aren’t really considered a sweet fruit.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jiji it’s y/nie had to confiscate min’s phone he was blowing my back out and just nearly came when you sent that picture

Jisung nearly laughs out loud.

you’re so fucking gorgeous our gorgeous gorgeous boy your live is still playing I can’t stop looking at you

Heat. All the way up to his ears. And pooling in his abdomen.

Gingerly, he reaches down, wraps a hand around his cock loosely, through the thick material of his sweats. He just squeezes once and pleasure cascades down his spine. He lets out a shaky sigh.

from: hyung 😼🍆 it’s hyung again come home right now <j39sln8jmn2.mp4>

Jisung doesn’t even look at the video yet. He takes a deep breath, every one of his nerve endings on fire, his body screaming out for some relief, for him to touch himself, for them to touch him.

“Stay, I will have to leave now,” he purrs at the camera, gives them his biggest doe eyes, a sweet, innocent smile. He lets his voice drop even lower. “Thank you for keeping me company today. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for everything you do for me. I love you. Have a good day. Bye.”

And he smiles again, winks when he gets close to the camera, right before he turns the live off.

When it’s off and silent in the room, he blinks, double checks that it’s off. Closes the app and turns off the company phone for good measure. Then he rips his hoodie from the back of his chair and shoves it between his legs.

The first grind of his hips is heavenly. He slides down the chair, his head thudding against the back of his chair with a dull thud. He’s so sensitive it almost hurts.

Gingerly, carefully, he sets a slow rhythm. On a particularly good thrust, a tiny moan falls from his lips.

Dimly, he remembers the video, but he’s got other plans. He unlocks his phone with shaky fingers, opens the camera and sets it to selfie mode, hits record. Then he props it against the tripod that was holding the company phone for the live.

It’s better than the live because he knows who will watch this one. He smiles at the camera, turns sideways so he’s perfectly in frame, and grinds his hips up. He doesn’t hold back his moan, lets his eyes flutter shut, his head loll back against the seat again.

He builds up a rhythm again. It’s erratic, choppy, his hips jittering up inconsistently because he’s been so hard for so long that every brush against his cock nearly sends him over the edge. If it wasn’t for them, he would be embarrassed. But he knows they will love it. Eat it up, the fact that he’s humping his sweater, about to cum after three minutes just from Minho’s filthy words, some lewd videos, one of which he hasn’t even watched.

The thought of it makes him chase his high harder, grind his hips deeper into the soft material, his fingers fisting into the hoodie until the rings on his fingers bite into his skin.

“A-ah,” he breathes out, “c-can’t … w-won’t last.”

His voice is breathy, whiny, scarily loud in the empty room. But it only adds to the thrill. That someone could walk by and hear him. Minho would call him desperate. You would call him a filthy pervert, would probably wrap your hand around his throat and slap his cock.

His back arches, his whole body locks up, and he’s cumming. He fucks up into the soft warmth of his sweats, his hoodie, unloads ropes and ropes of his sticky cum, making a show of it for the camera, bucking his hips, milking himself dry.

He reaches for his phone before he’s even come down, a particularly delicious aftershock making him visibly shiver as he grabs for the camera.

Looking at himself, he preens. He looks deliciously fucked out.

“Thanks f-for keeping me company today,” he rasps into the camera.

He shuts off the recording, swipes over to the chat and sends it unseen.

It doesn’t even take ten seconds before Minho replies.

from: hyung 😼🍆 get the fuck home right now

ᡣ𐭩 THREE

“… we are Stray Kids,” Chan announces into the quiet of the hotel room. Jisung bows and says it with him on autopilot, at this point.

They’re all piled into Changbin and Hyunjin’s hotel room, scattered over one of the beds, Jisung and Minho leaning against the headboard, Chan sitting right in front of Minho with Felix nearly splayed over his lap, Hyunjin and Changbin leaning against the foot of the bed. Jeongin is in a seat off to Jisung’s right, and Seungmin lounges on the bed in front of him.

It’s not late by any means, but jet lag has Jisung in a vice grip. He was already half asleep, snuggled into your arms in your hotel room down the hall, when Chan called them all together to go live. Minho had to bribe him with snacks, you had to promise him unlimited kisses, before he finally hauled himself out of bed, shoved a beanie onto his head and let Minho drag him down the hall.

But now the soft, padded headboard against his back, the pillow on his lap, Minho’s soft breathing next to him … he can feel himself getting drowsy again. As carefully as he can, he stretches his leg out until his knee rests against Minho’s thigh.

Minho looks over at him immediately, cocks an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move away. It makes Jisung feel all warm and fuzzy inside. A yawn tugs at him, and he pulls the collar of his sweater up over his mouth, but when he does, he is hit with a whiff of your perfume. It makes him yawn even harder. What he would give to be able to sneak out, back down the hallway, and slip under the warm blankets with you, soft skin all sleep warm and ready for him to glue himself to.

“Yah,” Changbin yells, and Jisung startles. He makes a small, unhappy sound in the back of his throat and out of the corner of his eyes he sees Minho throw him a sweet little smile, eyes brimming with love. His pinky stretches until he can gently graze Jisung’s knee. The small touch sends shivers all over Jisung’s body, and Minho sees that, too. He rewards him with another raised eyebrow.

But Jisung is already far gone again. Felix is saying something about a fashion show he went to recently. His phone buzzes where it’s lying between his thighs and Jisung picks it up without a second thought.

When he unlocks it, he’s greeted with a picture of your bare legs on the white hotel sheets next to your laptop with the live open, Jisung’s boxers stretched over your thighs, little white ankle socks hugging your feet. Pretty.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: y/nie 🌸💦 <IMG_2763379.jpg> supporting you from 4 doors down also tell chan I want my cuddle partner back :(

Jisung bites back his smile, lets his eyes linger on the skin of your thighs for a second longer, before he swipes back to Bubble. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Minho open the message. He doesn’t really react, but he looks at the picture for a long time, before he clicks on the message bar. Jisung watches as he types.

from: hyung 😼🍆 your cuddle partner is about to fall asleep live on youtube

from: y/nie 🌸💦 free him 🗣️🗣️ let him come back to me I promise I’ll treat him so well

It’s just a throwaway comment, most likely innocent, but in his hazy state Jisung’s brain immediately goes down a very different path. Maybe if he asked really nicely, you would wrap your soft hands around his cock. Or even suck him off. He’s always out like a light after a good blowjob.

Minho looks over at him and huffs out a laugh.

from: hyung 😼🍆 your cuddle partner is getting horny

from: y/nie 🌸💦 😼😼😼 I think I know how to keep him awake

from: hyung 😼🍆 y/nie be good

from: y/nie 🌸💦 of course, daddy when am I not 😇

Minho fidgets next to Jisung and Jisung giggles quietly.

Drowsily, he tunes back into the conversation around them. Chan is talking about a moment at a recent fan meet, where the pyrotechnics didn’t go off as planned. Jisung speaks up a little, mimics Chan’s hand movement, laughs with Felix when he mimics Chan’s confused, disappointed face.

When his phone buzzes, he doesn’t even notice. But Minho next to him does. He freezes for a solid three seconds, before he scrambles to turn down the brightness.

As inconspicuously as possible, Jisung lets his eyes trail over and oh. You sent another picture.

You’re no longer in bed, no, you’re kneeling in front of the full-length mirror that’s attached to one of the walls next to the bed. Your little socks are still on, and so are Jisung’s boxers, but you have one thumb hooked into the front of them. That and you have Minho’s shirt rucked up all the way to your chin, your tits bare. Jisung salivates.

Minho is still typing out a response when another message comes in. A video this time.

Minho’s thumb finds the volume buttons immediately, clicks them down so aggressively his phone almost flies out of his hand. Jisung will definitely tease him for his eagerness later – when he’s not equally desperate to see.

It’s not a long video, and it takes Jisung a minute to figure out how it’s different from the picture you sent, but then he sees it. Your hand. Down the front of your … his … boxers. The subtle movement, your legs slipping further and further apart, your hips grinding in small motions.

Jisung scrambles for his own phone so fast he bumps into Seungmin, who turns around and eyes him suspiciously. But Jisung just mumbles out an apology before he unlocks his phone, already punching down the volume and sliding down the brightness to the minimum.

On his own phone, one he can hold so close to his face, the video is even better. The motion of your fingers, your chest heaving a little when you touch yourself just right. His fucking boxers. He’ll steal them and wear them tomorrow, and then Minho can suck your scent off his cock when he blows him and …

Jisung’s wide a-fucking-wake now.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 aw looks like that worked looks like jisungie liked it did you like it too, daddy?

It’s brazen, calling Minho daddy twice like that …

Jisung shudders at the thought of the potential punishment Minho might dole out later. But really, Minho mostly looks flustered. His face is unreadable, but his breath is coming quicker and his ears are a dangerous shade of red.

from: hyung 😼🍆 careful, kitten don’t want our jisungie to get hard here where everyone can see

from: y/nie 🌸💦 what about you, daddy? not scared you’ll get hard?

from: hyung 😼🍆 I have a little more self-control than that, sweetheart

from: y/nie 🌸💦 hmm sounds like I need to try harder thankfully, I have just the thing

Silence for a second, then a picture. Jisung nearly chokes on his spit.

Two silicone dildos. One bright pink, veiny, big. Another almost translucent purple, a little smaller, also veiny, with a bulbous head. They’re almost like …

from: y/nie 🌸💦 it was really hard to find ones to match your sizes :( it’s the best I could do I brought them all this way just for you do you like them?

Minho takes a shaky breath next to Jisung, and Jisung’s fingers move before Minho can even finish his thought.

from: jisung fuck 🤤 I do, baby

from: y/nie 🌸💦 I knew you would, Jiji I also got a double ended one it’s at home maybe we can try it soon

Next to Jisung, Minho swallows thickly, grabs his hoodie from next to him and drapes it over his lap.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 does daddy not like them? :(

from: hyung 😼🍆 kitten, I’m warning you

from: y/nie 🌸💦 but daddy it feels so good inside of me

Without warning, another picture pops up, and this time Minho actually does drop his phone. Thankfully, it lands screen down on his lap because Chan in front of him turns around instantly. He takes one look at Minho’s burning cheeks, looks from him to Jisung, who’s equally flushed, pressing the pillow on his lap harder against his crotch, and furrows his brows.

“Behave,” he mouths at them, and Jisung nods quickly.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 aw, did I fluster daddy?

He unlocks his phone, holds it as close to himself as possible to make sure Jeongin doesn’t accidentally see … you, still in front of the mirror with your shirt rucked up over your tits, but with your lower half bare now, sitting on the massive pink dildo, your wet folds wrapped around the thing snugly.

Jisung’s cock fills out so fast it makes his toes tingle.

Jeongin narrows his eyes at him and Jisung blushes deeper, making Jeongin give him a look that says You’re doing something weird. I’m onto you. Jisung doesn’t even pretend to be offended. He’s never had a poker face.

Mercifully for them (and tragically, for Jisung’s raging boner), you don’t send any more pictures or messages for a few minutes. Seungmin ropes Minho into a joke, Jisung has to say something about his instagram posts.

And just as his hard-on is starting to go down, finally, with all the talk about work, all the eye contact with his members, his phone buzzes. Minho’s holding his, Bubble open, reading through the live chat and Jisung watches as he freezes again, but this time, he pales. Then he swipes over to the chat.

His fist tightens in the material of his hoodie so hard his knuckle cracks, and Jisung has never unlocked his phone so fast in his life.

The sight that greets him makes him briefly squeeze his eyes shut. When he opens them, Jeongin is staring at him again, but Jisung ignores him. Instead, he makes double, triple, quadruple sure his phone is on silent, before he clicks on the video.

Mirror. Floor. You, perched in front of it. Naked now, except for those stupid little socks that make Jisung light-headed. Sitting on the pink dildo, still, but also … Jisung swallows hard … also the purple one.

Your pretty lips are parted, your face flushed with the effort. Your eyes are hazy as you blink at the camera with so much desperation, Jisung gets even dizzier. You’re supporting yourself on the side of the bed, your free hand digging into your thigh as you languidly bounce on the dildos, both of them, squeezed together, disappearing into you again and again. With a pretty toss of your head, you roll your hips a little more, and it makes your back arch beautifully, head falling back in what Jisung knows must be a beautiful moan – one he can’t hear.

He thinks the video is about to end but then you lift yourself up, up, until first the smaller, then the bigger one slips out of you, before you make a beautiful, dizzying, absolutely obscene show of sinking down on them again, your fingers sliding down to your clit. Then the video ends for good.

Jisung’s mouth is as dry as sandpaper when he tries to swallow.

He thinks he might go insane. You’re down the hall, only a few rooms away, fucking yourself on a piece of silicone when he’s– when they’re right here, stretching yourself out on two dildos that you bought with the intention of them feeling like them, and they’re talking to a camera about Felix’s fucking tanghulu.

Chan claps his hands so suddenly both Minho and Jisung nearly jump out of their skins.

“Well, let’s wrap it up,” he exclaims and makes to get off the bed. Oh no.

Jisung … panics. He throws a glance over at Minho, who is frozen, the tips of his ears still bright red, eyes glassy and panicked as he watches Chan walk over to the phone.

As subtly as he can, Jisung experimentally presses the pillow on his lap down, and he almost shudders. Yep. He’s rock fucking hard and there’s a rapidly cooling wet spot in his boxers that, if he’s unlucky, has soaked through his sweats.

“Goodbye, Stay, say goodbye everyone!” Chan singsongs, and Jisung mimics him, forces a smile and a big wave. Chan shuts off the live and everyone starts chattering.

Jisung meets Minho’s eyes, who just blinks at him, then nods to the door.

Jisung turns and comes face to face with Jeongin, who’s staring straight at him, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“What were you two doing?” he asks, and Jisung pales. Seungmin in front of him turns around and eyes Jisung.

“What happened?” he asks and Jisung blinks at him, too, his brain scrambling to come up with something, anything to say.

“Minho-hyung and Jisung-hyung were being weird,” Jeongin explains to Seungmin before he turns back to Jisung. “Were you sexting Y/N or something …?

”He clearly means it as a joke, but when Jisung doesn’t respond and only blinks at him dumbly, his eyes widen.

“Oh … my fucking god. You were, weren’t you. You were sexting during the live,” he screeches, his voice getting progressively louder until Jisung realises everyone is staring at him. And he just … breaks.

He squeals, throws the pillow off his lap and runs out of the room, scrambling down the dull, carpeted hallway, all the way to your hotel room. In front of the door, he pauses, tries to catch his breath, but his heart is pounding in his ears and his cock is still so fucking hard, and you’re right on the other side of the door and Minho … oh God, he really abandoned Minho.

Should he go back? How could he have just left him there?! Minho’s probably hard, too. He was so pale. And now … with Jeongin announcing it to everyone.

He’s just about to walk back when Minho appears in the hallway. He looks murderous as he stalks towards him, a pretty blush on his cheeks and an even prettier bulge in the front of his sweats. His gaze pins Jisung in place, his heart thumping louder the closer he gets. Jisung takes a few steps backwards, until his back hits the wall. Minho comes to a halt dangerously close to him, so close, Jisung’s panicked breaths puff against his full lips.

“‘M sorry, hyung,” Jisung squeaks out, “I … I panicked …”

Minho’s gaze falls down to his lips, and Jisung’s tongue instinctively darts out to wet them.

“Unlock the door,” Minho growls.

When Jisung doesn’t immediately move, he gets closer, all but pinning Jisung against the wall.

“Unlock. The fucking. Door, Jisung,” Minho warns, and this time Jisung moves. He shoves his hands into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out the keycard, scrambles over to shove it into the slot.

The lock clicks open and Jisung doesn’t even have time to react before Minho pushes the door open and shoves Jisung inside. Jisung stumbles into the room and the first thing he sees is you. You’re still perched in front of the mirror, a shit-eating grin on your fucked out face.

“Took you long enough,” you hum, and Minho pushes past Jisung, who watches breathlessly as Minho hauls you off the floor and up into his arms before he crashes his lips into yours.

It’s a greedy kiss, tongue, teeth, punishment and desire, and it makes more heat pool in Jisung’s abdomen. Absentmindedly, he palms the front of his sweats, one hand travelling under his hoodie, touching his skin.

Minho spins you around and pushes you onto the bed so hard you yelp and bounce on the mattress, before he turns around to Jisung.

“Clothes, off. On the bed,” he orders and Jisung complies so fast he gets all tangled up in his sweatshirt and his t-shirt, then nearly falls over when he tries to step out of his sweats.

Jisung feels Minho’s eyes glued to him as he approaches the bed, strokes his cock twice as he looks at you, spread out and smiling up at him as if you hadn’t been the world’s biggest temptress for the last hour.

Jisung crawls over you, and at the first touch of heated skin on heated skin, he mewls out. It’s what his body has been craving ever since Minho dragged him out of bed earlier.

You meet him happily, soft lips finding his in a kiss that’s sweet for only a second before it turns hungry, dragging him closer until his chest is flush with yours, his cock trapped between you, rubbing against your belly with every one lick into his mouth and Jisung swears he’s in heaven.

But then Minho’s hands find his hips and when he turns around, Minho is shirtless, squeezing at his cock through his sweats as he watches you and Jisung on the bed, and Jisung thinks that this, this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

“Fuck me,” you pant out below Jisung and Minho squeezes his cock harder. “‘M all ready. Stretched myself out for you. For you both. I want you.”

Jisung’s cock twitches helplessly between you, and he grinds his hips forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the soft, slightly salty skin there.

“Jisung, on your back and you, kitten, sit on his cock,” Minho orders and Jisung happily complies, flips the two of you over and shimmies you up until his back is against the sheets, his head in the pillows. You kiss him one more time, slow and deep, before you sit up and line yourself up with Jisung’s cock.

The slide is so easy it punches a guttural moan deep out of Jisung’s chest. You bottom out immediately, making the prettiest sounds, your pussy so hot and wet and tight around his stupidly sensitive cock that he has to bite his lips hard so he doesn’t come immediately.

Minho winds his fingers into your hair and yanks your head back, making you clench hard around Jisung’s cock, tearing another pitiful moan from him.

“Let’s see if you need those stupid little toys, hm,” he rasps, his voice betraying just how gone he really is, before he drags you into an open-mouthed kiss, prying your jaw open with his tongue, until he can lick inside. It’s so possessive it makes Jisung shiver underneath you, his hips stuttering up, desperately seeking friction.

When Minho pulls back, a string of spit connects your lips to his and Jisung is about to surge up to lick it off their lips when Minho places his hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you down until you’re flush against Jisung’s chest.

You blink up at him blearily, and you’re so fucking beautiful like this that Jisung can’t resist. He dips down to kiss you, tenderly, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste Minho on your tongue, as his arms wind around your waist, pulling you ever closer.

When he pulls back, he meets Minho’s eyes. He’s fully naked now, hovering over the two of you, and he stares Jisung right in the eyes as he pushes the head of his cock against your hole, against the sensitive underside of Jisung’s cock.

You moan headily into Jisung’s neck.

“Gimme … give it to me. I’m ready,” you whine, and Minho responds by pressing his hips closer, until the head of his cock pops in.

You and Jisung moan out at the same time, the added pressure of Minho’s hot, pulsing cock, sliding against his, it’s almost too much. And yet Jisung craves more.

Minho rocks his hips forward carefully, fucks in deeper and deeper with every thrust, moulding his way into your body until you’re shivering, panting in Jisung’s arms. He winds them tighter, soothes fingertips up your naked spine, presses kisses and soft words into your forehead and your cheeks.

When Minho finally bottoms out, the head of his cock pushing against Jisung’s, he’s a flushed, sweaty mess. Jisung watches a droplet of sweat run down the side of his neck and down the valley between his pecs, and he wishes he could lean up to kiss it. But you’re still on top of him, your cunt pulsing around them, slicker and slicker with every passing second.

When Minho shallowly pulls out and fucks back in, he rubs against Jisung just right. His head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shivers up his spine. He doesn’t realise Minho has folded himself over them until he feels Minho cradle his face and pull him in for a kiss that is way too soft for the position they find themselves in.

As if to highlight just that, he pulls back and fucks into you hard, making you mewl against Jisung’s shoulder and Jisung himself moan into Minho’s mouth, Minho’s lips sliding down to his chin, leaving a hot trail of spit behind.

“Fuck,” Minho groans, and fucks in again. “Fucking perfect.”

You shudder with the praise.

As your body adjusts, the slide gets easier, wetter, until Minho’s cock is ramming into you at an unforgiving pace, jostling you up into Jisung’s arms, and Jisung further and further up the bed, until he has to press a palm against the headboard to keep himself in place.

When he cautiously starts rolling his own hips in time with Minho’s thrusts, pleasure hits him so hard he nearly blacks out. His mouth slides open, and he feels drool slip down his cheek, but there’s nothing he can do but take it, shallowly fucking upwards as Minho fucks you both into the mattress.

Jisung’s orgasm creeps up on him slowly, but it overwhelms him so suddenly that it sends him reeling, Minho’s cock, your fluttering pussy, milking him, prolonging the pleasure until his whole body feels numb.

“Do you … fuck, do you want to pull out, Jisungie?” Minho asks, slowing his thrusts down enough for Jisung to catch his breath, but your walls fluttering, Jisung’s cum slowly running down his cock, coating your walls and making the slide impossibly slicker, it makes it hard. Jisung shakes his head.

“N-no, keep going,” he mumbles, “I like the way it hurts.”

When Minho picks up the pace, fucks in impossibly deeper alongside Jisung’s spent cock, the oversensitivity makes Jisung’s entire body spasm. Against his chest, you’ve turned into a babbling, drooling mess.

“See, baby,” Minho growls, noses at your shoulder as his hips stutter, “you don’t need those stupid toys when we can fuck you so much better.”

You don’t even open your eyes, just nod, another weak moan, tumbling from your slick lips.

“So good, Min, s-so much better, oh, s-so fucking g-good oh, I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.”

And cum you do, nails digging into Jisung’s shoulder, your moans muffled in his sweaty shoulder, clenching so hard around Jisung that the overstimulation makes tears prick in Jisung’s eyes.

Minho fucks you through your high before he leans forward, buries his teeth in your shoulder, shoves himself as deep as he can go, and lets go. The feeling of his cock, pulsing, shooting ropes of cum into you, enveloping Jisung’s spent cock in more heat.

One of Minho’s arms gives out, and he almost collapses on top of you, only lets himself fall onto Jisung’s free side at the last second. He crashes against Jisung so hard it punches the air out of his lungs.

But he forgets any complaint he wanted to make when he feels Minho’s hot breath, his nose nuzzling into his neck.

After a few moments of silence, Jisung tries to move underneath you but finds himself entirely trapped under two hot, sweaty bodies.

“You’re very heavy,” he presses out, and you giggle, press a soft little kiss against his shoulder. Minho just hums against his neck.

“Just one more minute.”

Jisung sighs, wraps his left arm around you, and his right arm around Minho, and closes his eyes.

“One more minute.”

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[naomis-daydream]

her favorite place // paige bueckers

summary: paige goes live as she gets her hair done from her favourite person sat in her favourite place.

warnings: none!

a/n: not my best work but I wanna start writing for her and this is the first time in months i’ve flowed while writing so!

✧

the image looked suggestive, or at the very least, questionable to viewers.

as hundreds joined the huskie’s live, they couldn’t help but notice the comfortable position their favorite player had between a pair of parted thighs.

uconnfan what did i click awn…

user3 facing the wrong way tbh

user8 who is that behind her??!

she smirks slightly as her eyes dart over the flood of comments.

“where am i?” she reads, “my favorite place,” she says, scrunching her nose as she smiles.

she knows what she’s doing, you think from behind her, rolling your eyes at her antics.

as if she could hear your thoughts, she stops taunting her growing audience.

“y’all chillll, i’m just getting my hair done. my favorite spot, aka the hair chair, getting my braids. come on now,” she assures, turning the camera at an angle to show you, eyebrows furrowed as you focused on a braid.

she nudges you with her shoulder, nodding at the camera. “hey live,” you say gently, poking your head out from behind paige with a soft smile. in the bottom corner that the blonde was still visible, her lips curled into a small grin as she watched you speak.

“today we’re switching it up a little bit from her normal two braids. we’re doing three on each side pulled into a slick back.”

paige nodded along as she put herself back into frame. “yup,” she popped her lips, “she’s getting me right.”

a low “mm-hm,” left your lips before you spoke again. “yeah, i gotta treat her right after them cruise braids. poor girl was traumatized.”

she whipped her head around at your comment, truinng to look up at you. “hey, i thought we left that in the past, i got set up.”

you giggle as you take one hand to push her jaw forward. “stop moving. then your hair really is gonna be messed up.”

you hear the smack of her teeth as she refocuses on the live, shaking her head slightly.

as you continued, she spoke with viewers about the upcoming season, plans for summer holiday, and traveling, occasionally reading comments aloud to you.

“‘can y/n do my hair next?’ uhhh no, she’s booked. got her for the whole summer actually. right?” she pans the camera to you.

“sorry guys, p comes first,” you say with a feigned frown.

she turns the phone back, shrugging her shoulder. “i could get kayla for you if you want though, for sure.”

you apply oil to the parts in the braided section then smooth you hand along the middle section. “okay, im done with the braids. can you get the brush and gel so i can do the bun?”

“but i’m on live,” she replies, looking at the screen.

you stop, looking at the back of her head silently. really?

paige slowly turns around, meeting your incredulous expression.

“yes ma’am.”

“thank you,” you smile as she gets up, propping her phone up on the glass table in front of you both.

as she turns the corner to the bathroom you lean forward, reading some of the comments flooding in.

wbbluver period suh!! you tell her

huskie4l “yes ma’am” ohh it’s like that💀💀

ice.bradyy made blondie get up real quick

you laughed at a few, responding as you read. “yeah, because I don’t know who she thought she was talking to.”

said blonde walks back into the living area, gel and brush in hand “what’re you in here giggling about?”

“nothin’” you shake your head, leaning back to give her space back between your legs. “just chattin’ with the people.”

she sits down, folding her legs criss crossed as she passes you the products. “what are you guys saying about me in here, huh?” she asks as you push her head playfully.

“oh hush, we weren’t talking about you.”

she hums quietly as you begin brushing her hair back, smoothing over any fly aways or unarmed tangles before grabbing a scrunchie and tying her locks back. you pull her hair through twice before pulling it halfway through the third time and wrapping the excess hair around the bun.

you place your hands on her shoulders, sighing softly, “okay, you’re all done.”

her eyes light up as she sits up straight, “perfect! ayeee, lemme see.” she looks in the camera, licking her lips before they pull into a smile.

oh lord now she’s feeling herself.

“okayyy, my girl got me right! braids by y/n get at her,” she exclaims before correcting herself, “but like i said, i got first priority, you know this.”

you laugh at her softly, gathering the supplies to take em back to the bathroom before a hand stops you.

“wait you can’t leave without saying bye to the live,” she says, wrapping her free arm around your shoulder.

you smile, waving again, “bye liveee,” you blow a kiss, leading to paige blowing one of her own followed by a wink.

“talk to yall later, peace!”

✧

[norrizzandpia]

The Video (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: They’ve taken leaked videos to a whole new level.

Warnings: its a sex tape so that, sexual conversations, language, explicit

Note: when i was trying to come up with a part 2 for the video i literally couldnt think of anything until i was half asleep and this came to me and i was like THATS IT 🤓☝🏻(part 1 is here)

TWITTER

mclarensgirly woke up today and saw “lando norris y/n y/l/n sex tape” trending and thought it was a joke so i clicked on it and GOOD GOD IT WAS NOT A JOKE

- ln4andop81 my jaw DROPPED when it surfaced

- mclarenfan22 anybody watch it??

- mclarensgirly yeah ofc who do you think i am

- ln4andop81 YES.

- f1fan2 you bet your ass i grabbed my popcorn and STUDIED that vid

- mclarensgirly i had an idea lando was dirty but BROOOOOOO

- ln4andop81 its even hotter that the camera isnt propped up somewhere its literally being filmed by lando as he goes in from the back

- f1fan2 I LITERALLY STILL CANT WRAP MY HEAD AROUND IT LIKE HIS VOICE WAS SO CLOSE TO THE MICROPHONE AND YOU COULD HEAR ALL HIS MOANS AND THE SHIT HE WAS SAYING TO HER

- mclarenfan22 “you like being fucked from behind baby?” I CEASED TO EXIST.

- ln4andop81 WHEN HE WENT FASTER AND SAID “fuck baby so tight” 😩😩😩

- f1fan2 the way he gripped her hips so he could go harder>>>>

- mclarenfan22 this video has literally altered my brain chemistry.

—

y/nnn yeah ofc we have sex… look at him.

Comments:

danielricciardo HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

- landonorris shut tf up

- y/nnn let him laugh its fine im getting good dick

- danielricciardo im no longer laughing.

mclarenfan22 SHES SO REAL OMFG

Landos-lover1 slut behavior

- y/nnn stalker behavior babes, youre not his lover, i am 💋

- mclarensgirly oh how i wish to be as unbothered as her

- f1fan2 SHUT. DOWN.

landonorris this was not the planned statement we talked abt 🥲

- y/nnn planned statement my ass we were having good sex let them wish they were us

- ln4andop81 she understands the lando girlies to a level that makes me believe she once was one of us too

- y/nnn OH HELL YEAH I WAS DONT GET IT TWISTED HE WAS MY CELEB CRUSH FOR YEARS BEFORE WE STARTED DATING

- ln4andop81 BRUHHHHHH YOU MANIFESTED IT I ENVY YOU

- y/nnn THANK YOU THANK YOU I DID MY BEST

- ln4andop81 YEAH AND NOW YOURE HAVING GREAT SEX AND RUBBING IT IN EVERYONES FACES

- y/nnn THAT TRULY WAS THE GOAL.

- landonorris what just happened

—

landonorris apparently the statement never mattered anyway so basically i love my girlfriend and that video was supposed to be kept between us but honestly now all yall bitches know im good in bed SO THE NICKNAME NORIZZ BETTER BE PUT. DOWN.

Comments:

carlossainz norizz will never die.

- danielricciardo norizz lives on.

- oscarpiastri norizz forevermore.

- landonorris i hate you

- y/nnn its ok baby they didnt see the tape so they dont understand

- landonorris well now they need to watch it to understand im sick AND TIRED of this

- oscarpiastri ARE YOU STUPID DID YOU JUST ASK ME TO WATCH YOUR SEX TAPE

- danielricciardo lando there is a target on your back.

- carlossainz im gonna pretend like i dont even know who you are

- y/nnn what an overwhelming no!

- landonorris 😒😒

oscarandlando4ever norizz the nickname was forgotten the first time around when the grinding vid surfaced

- f1fan2 yeah they went in for the overkill this time

mclarenfan34 yeah we def KNOW youre good in bed now dw

- mclarenfan22 “do you like it when i make your eyes roll back my love?” PROVED THAT.

- mclarensgirly “ill never get over the feeling of you fuck baby” 🤭🤭🤭

- f1fan2 *she moans his name* “yes y/n say my name baby let everyone know who makes you feel this good” I HAD TO TAKE A BREATHER

- mclarensgirly “good girl” and “youre taking me so well” HAD ME DRY HEAVING.

- ln4andop81 no but the best part of the entire vid was when she came and he moaned “yes baby ill never get tired of the feeling of you cumming around my dick like a good girl”

- y/nnn im a lucky girl ‼️

—

TWITTER

mclarensgirly one month since the sex tape leaked and we FINALLY get the info from lando on HOW it got leaked

- mclarensgirly in an interview with lissie he says, “it was actually my fault. There’s a, uh, folder, if you will, on my laptop that has videos and pictures of that category which we have accumulated in the years we’ve been together. Well, anyway, i was emailing with a fan about her transaction with quadrant merch. It’s a long story but her order had been so screwed up that i had to step in and see it out myself, but, nonetheless, i was trying to attach her old receipt and new receipt to the email, but, because it was 2 AM and I was exhausted, I didn’t realize I went into me and y/n’s folder, didn’t realize I clicked and attached that video. By the time I realized what I had done, the email had already been sent. The fan never emailed me back to get her merchandise, but the next morning we [y/n and him] woke up to it being plastered on all platforms.”

- mclarensgirly he later goes on to say, “No, we weren’t that mad. I mean, yes, we were mad the fan had leaked it, but we weren’t upset it was out there. You can see us make jokes about it on our social medias. We’ve made sex jokes before and we had that other video leak a few months back, so it isn’t a shocker or touchy subject with our fans that we have sex. Yeah, the video was a lot and I’m sure made people uncomfortable, I’m sorry for that, but, at the end of the day, it’s a natural, healthy part of a relationship and we didn’t feel the need to try and cover it up.”

- ln4andop81 YOURE FORGETTING MY FAVORITE QUOTE FROM THE ENTIRE INTERVIEW WHEN HE SAYS “we have great sex! We have a great sex life! And if people know that I’m more than capable of satisfying my girlfriend in bed, then so fucking be it. Neither of us are complaining.”

—

TWITTER

landonorris 2 videos leaked, nervous the others will too

- y/nnn put the GODDAMN folder on a flashdrive and give it to me PLZ. i will keep it safe

- landonorris only way ill do that is if you recreate both leaked vids with me

- y/nnn deal.

[hedgehog-moss]

Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.

I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.

Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:

I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?

It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—

—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.

Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like

For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!

The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.

After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.

I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.

I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.

I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.

After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.

She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.

I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.

Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.

I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)

I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...

[jules-loves-lukecastellan]

| luke castellan x fem! daughter of poseidon! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ: none i think

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: luke and [reader] go on a secret date, only to be caught by annabeth, percy, and grover

౨ৎ PART 2 OUT NOW ౨ৎ

“I thought this place was secret..”

“where’re you going anyways at 10:00 am on a random tuesday??”

percy asked, giving a very confused look, mostly because, you’re never up at 10:00 am or ever putting this much effort into making sure your shirt looks good enough.

“percy, i’m not going anywhere. i just decided to.. put a little more effort in today i guess.”

you said with glowing cheeks, thinking of luke. percy doesn’t seem to convinced and was about to say something else, but you quickly beat him to it, to avoid other integrations.

“are you sure my shirt looks good?” “should i opt for the baggier jeans or keep these flared ones on?”

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it was a sunny day for camp half blood. perfect for a picnic or maybe even a secret date..

as you exited your cabin, ready to spend some much needed time with your favorite boy ever, you were stopped by annabeth. don’t get me wrong, you love annabeth. but right now, you wanted some alone time with luke.

“hey y/n! i wanted to ask if you could help me work on some new sparring skills? i was going to ask luke but i can’t seem to find him anywhere.” annabeth asked with a hopeful look in her eyes.

you hesitated in saying it, but you couldn’t ever turn down helping someone. “sure annie. why not” you said with a bit of a forced smile.

as she showed you the moves she’s been working on, you correct her on her form and where she would be exposed to the enemy. this goes on for about 20 minutes until grover walks by and starts talking to annabeth about something.

you use this opportunity to quietly slip away to finally see luke. all you wanted to do was kiss him and hug him and do everything affectionate with him because you felt like you haven’t seen him in forever (you haven’t seen him for like a day).

as you brush through the sharp pine needles and itchy bushes, you finally catch a glimpse of the boy you fell in love with when you were 14.

you see him laying down on a blanket, with his elbows propping him up. you sneak up behind him and put your hands over his eyes.

“guess who!” you say lightly laughing as he guesses stupid answers like “Chiron” or “Percy”.

as you remove your hands from his eyes he gets up and immediately kiss you all over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and finally your lips.

“hey, i’ve missed you so much.” luke says with love laced in his eyes.

“not as much as i’ve missed you.” “i have to tell you all about the morning i’ve had just to get here!” you exclaimed with a smile as you both sit down, hand in hand.

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some time has passed. about an hour or so. your head is on luke’s shoulder as he’s telling you all about how his week has been and how much he’s missed you (even though you two saw each other literally the day before).

in the middle of talking, you decided to just kiss him because well, you love him and this is one of the only times you got to spend time with him alone. as you’re both ahem.. making out, you hear footsteps, but you don’t think much of it.

until you hear a percy yelling “WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT WITH MY HALF-SISTER?!?!!” as grover catches up with percy, panting. and annabeth removes her hat, “percy! you ruined our cover you seaweed brain.”

“well sorry that i’m freaked out that luke is making out with my sister!! we’re lucky we didn’t get here later..”

as both you and luke just sit there dumbfounded, you finally decide to speak up. “ok why are you all here??” percy replies back very sassily “oh missy that’s the least of your problems.”

you roll your eyes as one of the more mature ones respond (annabeth) “well after grover finished talking to me, i saw that you weren’t with me anymore and also judging how luke wasn’t where he usually is either, i got a little fishy. so i grabbed percy and grover and went off.”

percy is just glaring at luke. like staring daggers into him. luke is just sheepishly smiling as he lays his head on your shoulder kissing it. as you both hear percy lecturing you on how it’s not ok to sneak around and such, annabeth and grover just sit there laughing as you and luke just keep playfully rolling your eyes and being dramatic with your responses like “oh i’m so sorry percy! i won’t ever do this again!”

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as you walk back to your cabin, percy in the middle of you and luke, you’re thinking all about how much you’ve fallen for luke and how excited you are to build your future with him (oop).

and as all three of you walk toward the poseidon cabin, you mouth to luke “stay outside for a minute”. you and percy walk inside and you make up some excuse to go back out there.

you go back outside where luke still is and you hug him around his waist. “that date was fun.. until.. yknow” you said laughing.

he rests his chin on the top of your head, and laughs. “yea. i always love spending time with my sunshine.” he says as he kisses the top of your head and pulls away.

you smile and look at his left eye, his lips, then to his right eye (triangle method lol). you lean in and kiss his soft lips as his arms find their way to your waist and yours to his neck. as you both pull away, foreheads touching, luke whispers with a smile,

“my cabin. 10:30 pm. make sure percy’s asleep.” you lightly laugh and pull away going into your cabin. as luke is about to walk to his counselor duties, he sees percy in the window giving him the death glare. he flinches and he awkwardly smiles and walks backwards until percy walks away from the window.

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౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ-(PT2??) first imagine done! i really hope u liked this one. pls request some!! i love writing for our fav evil boyfriend lol. and give me feedback! i’m new to this whole “imagines” thing haha <3 (btw idk how to put my requests thing on so just pm me with them🫶🏻🫶🏻)

-jules🎀

[sturniqlo]

Shrunken Laundry- M.S

summary: matt loves doing the laundry, and y/n finds out she's pregnant what better way to tell him than using the laundry BLURB

cw: pregnancy, fluff

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for about two weeks now lol

masterlist

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

Y/n and Matt have been married for almost two years now. Dated for three engaged for one and now married. They were in that point in their lives where they wanted to start a family. They've been trying for about a month at this point. After countless negative pregnancy tests and disappointed tears, Y/n had finally gotten a positive. The only downside? Matt wasn't there when she took it.

Matt had to go and film with Nick and Chris for their channel earlier today. Y/n was sitting on their dining table eating a bowl of cereal when she got a notification from her cycle app. 'your a week late!' She gasped, Y/n was always the one to keep track of her period cycle, however this time it might've slipped her mind.

She nervously, yet excitedly, stood up with her phone in hand and went into her shared bathroom with Matt and started recording on her phone in case it was the moment. "Okay, so I just got a notification from my period app and I'm one week late. So, hopefully I get a positive." She props her phone on the counter and crosses her fingers in hope. Bending down to the cabinets she grabs the last two test and opens them. "I'll be back." She says to her phone, walking to the private toilet she closes the door behind her. She pees on the sticks, and puts the cap back on both of them.

She goes back out, washes her hands and flips the tests over and waits. "I'm nervous but excited if that makes sense? Me and Matt have been wanting a baby for some time now. And I hope I can give us a baby." She tears up at the thoughts. After five minutes of talking to her phone she notices that it's time to check. "Okay, I'm going to check now." With shaky hands, Y/n grabs both test in one hand, still flipped over, and she lets out a shaky breath. She flips them over and gasps. || is what she sees on one test and sees + on the other. "Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm pregnant!" She cries happily. She looks at the test again and laugh. "Oh my- look at it! She flips over the test to show her phone and squeals.

the next day

"Okay, so it's the next day. Specifically laundry day as Matt likes to call it." She whispers to her phone so Matt won't hear her. He's currently in their room, sorting out their laundry. Ever since they moved in together, he's always done the laundry. Anytime Y/n tries to put a load to wash, he takes it away from her. "This is my job, you already do so much for us." Is what he always says. "Yesterday when I found out, I ran to the nearest store to buy something to tell Matt about the surprise and I found this. It's so cute." She flips her phone and shows the baby onesie that has a eeyore on it.

"My plan is to throw this into the dryer once it's finished and it can be the first thing Matt sees as he opens the dryer." She flips her phone back to her. "I'll record his reaction." Forty minutes later, the dryer dings while Matt is in the bathroom. She takes the opportunity to quickly enter the laundry room and open the dryer door and nicely places the tiny clothing on top of the warm clothes. She quickly closes the small door and runs out.

Quietly she starts recording once she hears Matt come out the bathroom. She makes sure the camera is filming from her back camera and she pans in to the floor for the time being. "Did the dryer stop?" Matt asks. "I think so." She nods. He goes to the laundry room and she quietly follow behind. He opens the dryer door and grabs the tiny item. "Baby, what's this? Did one of your bodysuits shrink? I've never seen this one be-" He looks confused at first but when he turns around and sees you filming on your phone and a blue and white stick in your other hand he gets what your hinting at.

"Oh my god! No way! Are you actually?" He asks, his eyes glossing over. "I found out yesterday. We're having a baby!" She squeals. He scoops her into his arms and lifts her up. "Holy shit! I love you, I love you, I love you!l He places her down and she stops recording putting her phone in her pocket. He grabs her chin and puts his lips on hers.

"We're going to be parents!"

[moonstruckme]

hi i have an unhealthy attachment to your doctor!remus content…could i request a fic where reader is hiding some type of health problem from him or maybe ignoring it, and when something bad happens he finds out and is all stern with her and his usual worried self? i <3 this man, thank you truly for sharing your writing and doing it so well!!

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: description of vertigo, mention of nausea

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re sick of being miserable. You had a cold, which had turned out to be the flu, which had turned into a sinus infection, and your poor, sweet boyfriend had weathered it all with you. Remus had made you soup. He’d warmed damp towels for your sinuses. He’d stayed home from work a couple of days, and rubbed your back, and your chest, and your temples when they ached, and supplied you with name-brand medicines. He’d been so, so patient when you were whiny and awful to be around. So now, when your sinus infection has turned into this heinous ear pain, you’ve decided you’re done with it. 

You won’t entertain your body with its miseries any more. You certainly won’t be making it Remus’ problem. 

It’s easy not to feel miserable when you wake up before him on a slow Saturday morning. There’s a line of sunlight reaching across the room from the crack in your curtains, Remus’ face lovely even in shadow. He could use a haircut, you think fondly. It’s starting to cover the tops of his ears, which you think is a rather endearing look on him even if you have to agree when he says it’s not very professional. 

Eventually his eyes blink open. He smiles when he finds you watching him, the stretch of his lips sleepy and content. You draw a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose. 

“I think,” you say, “that we should stay here all day long.” 

Remus’ smile widens, and it takes half a second after his mouth begins moving for you to realize you can’t hear him properly. You pick your good ear up off the pillow as subtly as you can, propping your chin on your hand. You ignore the wave of dizziness that follows. 

“...what you really want? You’ve been home nearly all week,” says Remus. “What if we went on a walk today? We could go to that park you like, the one with the lake.” 

You shove down the dread that rises in your chest. This is what you want. You want to get over being poorly and get back to your life. 

“You’re right,” you say brightly. “That sounds great.” 

Remus peers over you to check the time. “Oh. God, we slept in, didn’t we? We may have to go soon if we want it to still be nice out.” 

“That’s alright,” you say easily. “I’ll be right after you, I just have to pick out what I’m going to wear.” 

Remus leans forward to peck you on the forehead, getting out of bed with a sleepy groan. He stretches his neck this way and that, movements sluggish as he goes toward the bathroom. 

Your movements are sluggish for different reasons. You sit up slowly, fighting through the vertigo that sloshes the room about you in protest. It wasn’t this bad yesterday. 

You discover a series of new miseries as you get dressed with cautious, snail-like movements. Your ear hurts something awful. More than that, the pain has spread to most of your head. The constant dizziness quickly results in a low nausea. You’re genuinely uncertain whether the ringing in your ears is a symptom of your ear infection or a warning bell of your impending insanity. 

Putting on your trousers is an ordeal. By the time you sit down on the bed to pull on socks, your resolve has spiderweb cracks spreading and threatening to unleash a meltdown. 

But you’re stubborn. You can do this, you think. If you’re only walking on even ground in the park, and Remus’ hand is in yours, you’re sure you can manage. The internet said your symptoms wouldn’t last long anyway—maybe they’ll clear up as the day goes on. 

“...ove? Dove?” 

You look up as Remus comes to stand in front of you, swallowing when the world spins. In the center of the swirl, you think he’s smiling. His hand cups your face. 

“You seemed off in your own world there,” he says fondly. 

You smile and hum, keeping your head perfectly still so that the spinning slows. Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. 

“You alright?” 

“Mhm, yeah.” You cup your hand over his, holding onto it as you stand. “Let’s go.” 

“You’re ready?” he asks while you pull him towards the door. You sway a bit in your effort to walk at a normal pace, reaching for the doorframe. 

The hallway in front of you looks like a funhouse horror. You put one foot in front of the other as surely as you can. “Yeah,” you say. “Aren’t you?”

Remus’ hand tightens on yours. You don’t understand why for a moment, but then you’re falling sideways, his hands catching you around the waist. 

“Dove.” His stern voice is slightly alarmed and largely disembodied, your eyes unable to find his face in the whirling mass in front of you. “What’s going on?” 

Like an overinflated balloon popping, you burst into tears. 

Remus collects you to his chest, holding your head securely against him as he half carries you back to the bed. It doesn’t prevent your dizziness entirely, but it helps. 

“What’s happening?” he asks more gently as you sniff and whimper. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know.” 

“I think it’s an ear infection,” you say in a small voice. “It hurts, and my head hurts, and I’m so—” You take in a short breath. “—so dizzy I feel sick.” 

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright.” Remus pets the back of your head, shushing you until you calm some. 

“Sorry,” you whimper. 

“What are you sorry for, love? For crying?” 

Your sniffly silence is answer enough. 

Remus sighs. “Why did you try to act like nothing was wrong?” 

“Because,” you say thinly, “I’m tired of things being wrong. I just want—” You pause, pressing your lips together to avoid crying again. “I want to feel normal.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your boyfriend’s mix of disappointment and sympathy only brings you closer to tears. “You can’t will it, my love. And you can’t pretend this away. These are the sorts of things I need to know about.” 

You blink away the blur of tears, grateful that your world has finally straightened out. You press your head closer to Remus’ chest. “I wanted to give you a break, too,” you admit. “The internet said it would go away in a couple of days, so I figured I’d just ride it out.” 

“Mm, a middle ear infection would.” 

You stiffen. “What does that mean?” 

The kiss Remus drops to your head is heavy with compassion. “Vertigo like this comes with an inner ear infection, dove. They take longer to go away, sometimes weeks, but the process can be sped up with antibiotics.” 

He pauses while you process this. 

“You know, the sort prescribed by a doctor.” 

“Oh.” 

He chuckles fondly, kissing your head again. “This is why you tell me things. Understand?” 

“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around his middle, clinging pathetically. “I’m sorry. Help me.” 

“I will, sweetheart. Think you can lay down and be still while I nip to work and the pharmacy?” 

You don’t think you’ll have any problems there.

[prettyboykatsuki]

ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.

they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.

☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young

maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.

PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..

[ NINE]  

A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.  

The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”  

You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”  

“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”  

You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite. 

You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.  

You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.  

You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.  

 Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.  

You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.  

Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.  

“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”  

You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…” 

Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.  

“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.  

Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.  

“What’re you reading?”  

His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again. 

“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”  

“Am I in trouble?”  

He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”  

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”  

Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better. 

“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”  

_ 

When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return. 

 Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.  

Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.  

After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.  

Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal. 

“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”  

 You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.  

“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’ 

“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”  

He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.  

__  

After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.  

You find this to be very strange for several reasons.  

For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.  

So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little. 

“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.  

“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.  

“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you. 

“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”  

You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.  

“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”  

__  

[ TEN ] 

 There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka. 

Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.  

He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.  

But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.  

(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.  

It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)  

You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.  

You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.  

Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.  

Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell. 

 (Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)   

When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.  

Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.  

“Hi,” 

The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet. 

“Hi,” He says back.  

You smile.  

“What’s your name?”  

“Bachira,”  

He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.  

“How old are you?”  

“I’m ten,”  

“Really? Me too,”  

“Do you know how to play soccer?”  

You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”  

He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”  

“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”  

“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”  

You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”  

You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.  

“Oh,”  

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”  

He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”  

You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”  

You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.  

“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”  

“Sure,” You tell him.  

As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.  

“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?” 

He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”  

Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.  

“Not really. I’m just normal.”  

He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.  

You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.  

__  

Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.  

On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.  

When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.  

It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.  

They don’t scold you again after you say it. 

__  

(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.  

Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.  

On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.  

It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. ) 

__ 

“So, you’re an omega?”  

Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.  

You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”  

He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.  

He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.  

“Does that mean you like alphas?”  

The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.  

You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.  

“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”  

“But do you?”  

You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.  

“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”  

“Then what about omegas?”  

That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”  

“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”  

A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”  

“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.  

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ ELEVEN ]  

Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.  

In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.  

You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.  

You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher. 

You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.  

Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.  

 Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.  

 Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy. 

 You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?  

You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.  

You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.  

__  

[ TWELVE ]  

You return to the classroom early after health examinations.  

It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.  

You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.  

After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.  

The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.  

You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.  

You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.  

It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.  

Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.  

You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.  

Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.  

You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.  

You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.  

There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.  

Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.  

Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.  

She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.  

“Guess what!”  

“Did you find out your secondary sex?”  

She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”  

“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”  

She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?” 

You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.  

You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.  

You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.  

It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.  

__  

“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”  

You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.  

You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.  

“Does that bother you?”  

Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.  

Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”  

You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.  

You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”  

You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again. 

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ THIRTEEN ]  

You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.  

 A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.  

Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.  

 It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.  

You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most. 

Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.   

You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.  

You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.  

You just need to keep it together until the train stops.  

There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.  

“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.  

You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.  

Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.  

“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.  

our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.  

“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?” 

You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.  

Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up. 

Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.  

You’ve never seen him so angry.  

You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears. 

“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”  

He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.  

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”  

It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.  

When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.  

He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.  

“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.  

 He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.  

Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.  

“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”  

“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.  

“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.” 

*** 

__  

The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail. 

 But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.  

You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex  - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.  

The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.  

You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.  

You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.  

You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.  

But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.  

__  

[ FOURTEEN ] 

Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.  

There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.  

Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.  

You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.  

You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.  

“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”  

“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.  

You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.  

“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”  

“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.  

You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.  

“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant. 

“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”  

He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.   

“Buy something with it later.”  

He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.  

“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”  

You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.  

“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”  

“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”  

You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.  

“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”  

“New shoes, maybe.” 

You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”  

“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.  

You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.  

“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.  

He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”  

“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”  

Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”  

You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.  

“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.  

“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”  

You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she  sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.  

“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”  

You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”  

“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”  

Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”  

“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”  

“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.  

Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.  

“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”   

“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”  

Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”  

You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”  

“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically. 

“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.  

You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”  

“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,” 

You shake your head, displeased.  

Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.  

“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”  

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.  

He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”  

You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”  

“Yes, ma’am!”  

Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.  

Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”  

She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”  

You blink.  

“Sorry?”  

“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.  

“What a good question,”  

You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”  

“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”  

“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.  

“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.  

“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”  

“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”  

You pause.  

You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.  

 You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”  

“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“  

Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.  

There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.  

 Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference. 

“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,” 

Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.  

“Didja miss me?”  

A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.  

“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.  

“Rude!”  

Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.  

__  

[ FIFTEEN ]  

“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”  

Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.  

He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.  

His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.  

But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.  

“You’re home late,”  

“I had student council,”  

He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.  

“You’re in student council? Since when?”  

You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”  

“Then are you in other clubs?”  

“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”  

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…” 

You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”  

“You heard all of that?”  

You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”  

“It didn’t scare you?” 

“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”  

His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”  

“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”  

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.  

He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?” 

He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?” 

“Uh-huh.”  

“Got any plans?”  

“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”  

He makes a face at you. “That brat,”  

“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”  

“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”  

“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.  

“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”  

“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”  

“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”  

__ 

“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”  

Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.  

You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.  

You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason. 

You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”  

“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”  

You shrug indifferently. 

Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.  

A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.  

Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.  

Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.  

So after summer break, the two of you started dating.  

It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.  

Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.  

It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.  

Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be. 

“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”  

“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.  

“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”  

“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”  

There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.  

Sometimes.  

You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”  

He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”  

“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”  

“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.  

“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”  

There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.  

“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”  

You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.  

“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.  

“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”  

He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.  

__  

[ SIXTEEN ] 

On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.  

You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.  

When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.  

The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.  

The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.  

He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.  

The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.  

The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.  

The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.  

He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.  

This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.  

It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.  

He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.  

You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.  

Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.  

He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.  

His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?  

You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”  

Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.  

What an incredible view.  

__  

(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.  

Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.  

A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.  

After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.  

You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.  

You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.  

“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.  

“I know you are,”  

His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”  

He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.  

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” ) 

__  

[ SEVENTEEN ] 

“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”  

You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”  

“Are you on the street in front of my house?”  

“Huh? Yeah, I am.”  

The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears. 

You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.  

“You ran here,”  

“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”  

“News? What about?”  

His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”  

__  

The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.  

You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.  

And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.  

It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.  

Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.  

It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.  

Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way. 

 Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.  

This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.  

Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.  

Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.  

But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.  

At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.  

“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”  

“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”  

You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”  

Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  

“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”  

You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”  

Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”  

You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”  

“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”  

You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”  

“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”  

You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”  

Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.  

He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.  

It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.  

“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!” 

__ 

You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.  

You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.  

You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.  

You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink. 

���I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”  

You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.  

You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”  

“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”  

“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”  

You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.  

You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.  

“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.  

You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.  

Are you some sort of masochist?  

“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”  

Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.  

__ 

Hours pass.  

You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.  

You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.  

You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.  

He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.   

You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.  

“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.  

“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”  

“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”  

“Sorry.”  

He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”  

“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”  

“Really?”  

You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”  

“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”  

You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.  

“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”  

Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.  

“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”  

Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.  

Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.  

You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.  

You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.  

Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.  

You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.  

__ 

You don’t talk about it.  

When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.  

The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.  

Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.  

__  

The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.  

It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.  

You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.  

When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.  

You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.  

You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.  

In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.  

Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever. 

The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.  

The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.  

It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.  

He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.  

You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.  

He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.  

 You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.  

And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.  

So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied.  She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.  

You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.  

You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you. 

Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”  

“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”  

“Huh? Why?”  

“Because—“ 

You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.  

You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.  

Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”  

“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”  

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.  

“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”  

“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”  

“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”  

The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”  

You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.  

“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.  

“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”  

“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it. 

“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.  

“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”  

“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”  

“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”  

You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line. 

‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.  

__  

For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.  

Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.  

Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.  

Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.  

The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.  

Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.  

You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words. 

You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation. 

“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.  

Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”  

Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”  

Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”  

You blink.  

“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?” 

Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”  

“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”  

You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”  

Isagi smiles. “Sure.”  

You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.  

You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to  a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.  

Bachira is still Bachira. 

But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.  

What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?  

You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.  

You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?  

Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.  

It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.  

You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.  

What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you. 

Was he never going to tell you? 

Did he never trust you enough to tell you? 

That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe. 

The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?  

“Meguru,”  

You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.  

“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”  

You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”  

“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”  

“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”  

“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”  

You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.  

But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.  

You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.  

“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”  

“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.  

“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” 

Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.  

You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.  

“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?” 

Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply. 

__  

[ EIGHTEEN ] 

On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.  

Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.  

“Ah. Hello?”  

“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”  

You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”  

“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”  

“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”  

“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”  

You flush. “…I did.”  

She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”  

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”  

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”  

“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”  

“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”  

[evie-sturns]

kiss - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your best friend matt invites you round for a late night hang out, it ends up in him confessing his feelings to you... leading to you kissing your best friend of 8 years for the first time.

contains: fluff, slight arguing, confession, making out.

---------------------┌── •✧• ──┐-----------------

i've known matt since 8th grade, we met in science class where he spilt acid on my shirt. after that we became lab partners, then friends, then best friends.

9:34pm

"matt!!" i sing, opening the door to his bedroom and walking in. his gaze lifts from his laptop screen to me, his face lights up. he's wearing a black shirt with white detailing and some grey sweatpants, he's sat up against the pile of pillows on his bed.

"i missed you!" matt smiles, patting the spot next to him.

i jump on to his bed next to him and cuddle up to his sides, resting my head on his shoulder.

"how have you been?" matt exclaims, rubbing my shoulder as i instantly start talking,

in our friendship i've always been the talker, matt's a natural listener so it's an easy dynamic for us.

"guess what happened when i was drving here, this bitch flew on to the road on a scooter! i swerved so hard to miss her, and- and she was fully grown on a scooter!?" i scoff,

matt rubs his eyes with a laugh, "jesus christ." matt scoffs.

i look to my side at him, "like if i totalled my car dodging a middle-aged woman on a children's scooter i'd be so pissed." i continue, matt's in tears now, a stupidly wide smile spread across his pink cheeks.

i sigh, "anyways, netflix?" i suggest, reach onto matts lap and yank his laptop further up his torso. "yeah!" matt replies, he scrolls through netflix and picks out some rom-com

"a rom com? you're feeling romantic today," i tease, matt jabs his fingers into my waist, earning a scream from me followed by a loud giggle.

the opening scene to the movie starts, i cuddle closer to matt's side and wrap a leg over his thigh, matt goes tense and i subtly hear his breathing pick up.

"you okay?" i whisper, matt nods.

"matt why don't you talk to me about things, i've known you since we were 12 you can tell me stuff." i sigh,

"im fine- i'm okay." matt insists, his cheeks are flushed now.

"i know but you've been distance recently, and i don't understand what i've done wrong?" i mumble, pausing the movie and pushing the screen down.

"its not you y/n." matt states,

"then what is it!" i argue back,

"oh my fucking god do you not get it?" matt says, i sit up and look down at him, my eyebrows twisted.

"you are so- so gorgeous. everything about you is perfect and i'm sorry, i'm sorry if this ruins things between us but i'm completely obsessed with you, i really really like you and i have for much longer than i'd rather admit. so i'm sorry if i'm being distant but its painful to be around you without the constant need to fucking tell you- how much i need you."

my mouth falls open, i've always thought matt was cute, i've just pushed it away.

matt looks at me, scanning over my face as he breathes deeply, his eyebrows slanted upwards out of nerves.

"you mean it-" before i can finish my sentence matt cuts me off, "yes- i fucking do." he whines, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.

his laptop slides off his lap, i crawl over and sit on his lap while he props himself up on the headboard.

i grab his chin, making him look up at me as i get comfortable straddling him.

"you should've told me baby." i whisper, the pet name makes matt's eyes widen.

"because you've always been cute matt, just my type yeah?"

"dont lie please.." matt shys

i smirk before pressing our lips together, his lips are plush and soft, i've always wondered what they would feel like against mine.

"oh my god." matt breathes against my lips, my heart thumps out of my chest as i place a hand on his shoulder, rocking my hips against the fabric of his sweatpants.

matt glides his tongue over my bottom lip, asking for permission which i quickly grant. his tongue slips inside my mouth, fighting mine for dominance.

his ringed hands lace into my brunette hair, pushing my head further towards his.

his spare hand finds its way to my ass, pushing me against his lap harder, a pathetic whine escapes my mouth, matt chuckles against my lips before pulling away.

"don't get too worked up sweetheart." matt teases, i scoff

"shut up"

i lean back slightly, his face scans over mine "was that okay..?" he asks shyly like he wasn't just pressing me down onto his clothed cock 15 seconds ago.

"that was really.. fucking good." i laugh, laying down on his body and burying my head on his shoulder, i press small kisses on his neck, marking lightly.

"what.. are we?" he asks,

"what do you want to be?" i reply,

"you don't have to say yes- this is random but, do you want to maybe.. will you be my girlfriend." matt asks quietly,

i laugh slightly "you're so stupid matt,"

he goes silent, i give him a proper reply before he starts to panic

"yes, yes matt i will be your girlfriend." i smile,

matt grabs both sides of my face and smashes his lips to mine again, smiling widely against my lips.

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

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