#work and some private stuff - hopefully it gets better in about two weeks

[wilsons-journey]

Some early ArtParty Screens (EU, March 2024)

We had a Mosh Mountain.

[dipperdesperado]

guerrilla gardening is very cool

I’m really stoked to talk about praxis and solarpunk today. Hopefully, you all know what solarpunk is. I imagine fewer of you know what praxis is. Essentially, praxis is a term, used a lot by leftists, to talk about doing stuff. It’s a practice or activity, informed by theoretical and experiential knowledge. In our goal to create an ecological society informed by appropriate technology, we should think not only about the massive upheavals but the things that we can do right now. That’s where guerrilla gardening comes in.

Gardening in general is activism, but guerrilla gardening is like, super solarpunk. The rundown is essentially when you and/or a group of homies take some love-starved land and turn it into a garden (or just plant stuff there) without permission from the owner of said land. That lack of permission is what makes it guerrilla. This can lead to a better community, and supports abolition (of private property), autonomy, and collective resiliency. Ideally, you can get public support behind ya, and be able to work with the municipality to not get in trouble. The classic asking for forgiveness than permission, until you’re the one that can decide.

Where to Start: X Marks the Spot

When you (and your small-but mighty collective/affinity group) decide that you want to set up a guerrilla garden, the first thing you want to do is find a good spot. It can be that little line of grass that split up two sides of the road, a sidewalk bed, or an empty lot. You want to make sure there’s good sunlight and decent soil. If the soil ain’t good, but you wanna do stuff there, I’d recommend researching how to rehabilitate it. Obviously, that’s more work, though.

Once you have your target spot, you’ll need your tools and plants. Some basic things will be gloves, a trowel, a water source (like a can or hose), and plants/seeds. Some nice-to-haves could be mulch, compost, or soil amendments. It depends on what you’re planting and what your conditions are to know what you’ll need to bring. If you’re in a high visibility area, it could be nice to have some clothing that makes sure you don’t look suspect. That’s probably a good general rule of thumb. Act like you deserve to be in the space because you do! If you look suspect, people will think as much.

Prepping the Garden

Once you have everything you need, you’ll need to get the garden site ready. If you need to clear it out, whether there’s vegetation you’re not interested in, trash, debris, etc., do that. Ideally, you can also improve the soil quality with stuff like compost and organic stuff if you need to.

Time for Plants!

Here’s where the real fun begins. Get some plants going! You want the ones you pick to be a good fit for the target climate and soil. Even better if some of them are edible. When you’re planting, be sure to space the plants out and water them pretty well. If you're planting seeds, be patient! It can take a few weeks for the plants to sprout.

Garden Tending

Now that you have a garden going, it’s time to keep it up. You want to water them regularly and watch out for any invasives or weeds that could crowd out your plants. You might also have to add additional amendments to the soil, to keep the plants happy. Try to make sure to think about and account for issues in the garden. Whether that’s nonhuman neighbors or mean vandals, you want to try to think of ways to uphold the values of the project while protecting its continued existence.

Permablitzing

I also want to touch on some more specific types of guerrilla gardening. Firstly, let’s talk about permablitzing.

Permablitizing is a portmanteau between permaculture and blitzing. Permaculture is a type of gardening and farming that aspires to copy natural ecosystems to create harmonious gardens that are self-sustaining. It generally will include a mix of native, edible, and wildlife-attracting plants. Permablitzing is taking that permaculture idea and rallying the community to create a permaculture garden in a single day.

It looks a little something like this: volunteers collectively design and install the garden. They put in garden beds, plant trees, and shrubs, and install irrigation. There might also be compost systems, raised beds, or accessible walkways through the garden. Permablitzing is great because it’s relatively quick, it’s tangible and immediately garners buy-in. It’s more about finding the space to do this and finding people who are willing to participate.

Seedbombing

If you’re not able to work with a group, or you just want to be able to very quickly deposit new plants in places, you can seedbomb!

Seedbombs are small packages of seeds wrapped in soil that can be thrown or dropped onto the ground. This kinda stuff is great for rewinding and restoring neglected or degraded areas. Just make sure you do research! You don’t wanna introduce invasive or incompatible plants.

The basic seedbomb recipe is:

Soil

Clay or compost

Seeds

You mix them together, roll them into small balls, then let them dry. You can just toss them into your target areas. Seedbombing is great because it’s fun and creative while being a great way to un-neglect neglected areas. You can also do it alone or with the homies. It’s a very flexible guerrilla option.

Final thoughts

One of the most important things to think about when trying to enact social change is aligning your ends (the liberatory future you envision) with your means (the things you do to get to that vision). Guerrilla gardening is great to this end as a form of praxis because it allows for this to be realized in the here and now. It helps us realize that we don’t have to wait until people let us do what we think is right. If you see an issue, you can respond to it. Also, gardening is fun, gets you outside, and allows you to be more connected with the earth, which is just so so so good for you. Be smart, keep each other safe, and good luck with your gardening!

[mack-attack420]

Witch Among Gods pt. 4

A/N- I have a computer now so hopefully I will be posting more :)

With how interested Yagami seemed in me being a witch, I expected him to be around me more. It’s been a relatively quiet week. Though Ryuk has been appearing randomly and scaring the absolute shit out of me. It’s almost like a game, seeing how badly he can scare me. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” My mom says walking down the stairs, “Your father and I are going out with some work friends. We won’t be back until really late tonight. There's some money on the counter for you for dinner.” 

“Thanks!” I yell after her and my dad as they walk out the door. 

We hardly ever eat together anymore. As soon as my mom realized that I could order takeout for myself, her and Dad have been out almost every night. I don’t mind being left alone. I get to do whatever I want without Mom telling me I should try harder in school.

“They leave you every night?” A voice says behind me.

“What the hell?!” I yell at Yagami, after I jump a foot off the couch, “How did you get in here?” 

“Your parents let me in. We’re supposed to do homework together.” He walks around the couch and sits down next to me.

“Dude, you can’t just sneak up on me like that!” I yelled at him.

“I do it all the time.” Ryuk floated out of the floor. I screeched and pulled my legs up to my chest. 

“What is with you two trying to give me a heart attack?!” I was losing what little of my patience I had left. 

“I want to learn more about your magic.” Yagami says.

“I'm still learning so I’m not going to be teaching others.” I get off of the couch and go up to my room.

“Well then I can just watch you practice then.” Yagami followed me up the stairs.

“I told you that it’s a very private thing.” I slammed the door in his face and locked it. Won’t that guy take no for an answer? I ignore the noise of him and Ryuk talking outside the door and take some deep breaths. I need to meditate and I don’t want his energy in the house. I grab some incense and a lighter. I lit the incense and spread the smoke around my room. When the room is sufficiently cleansed, I open the door and let it drift towards Yagami and Ryuk.

“What is that?” Yagami asks.

“Incense.” Ryuk answers, flying back a bit.

“Oh, you don’t like it then?” I walk towards Ryuk. He keeps backing up. I get closer to him and he runs, technically flies, away.

“That stuff reeks.” Yagami says, waving his hand in front of his face.

“It banishes bad spirits and negative energy.” I get closer to him and he starts coughing.

“It won’t stop until you leave this house.” I blew some smoke right in his face.

“Ok, ok, I’ll leave.” He coughs more and leaves.

I lock the door once he walks out.

"May your throat be cleansed, that you might speak rightly when words are needed. May your eyes be cleansed, that you might see the signs and wonders of the world. May this person and space be washed clean by the smoke of these fragrant plants" I say a cleansing prayer getting rid of the bad energies. The house feels much cleaner now. “Much better.”

When I’m back up in my room, I put the incense on a stand to let it finish burning. I set up my pillows, crystals and other candles for meditation. I always have a comfortable place to sit. I tried laying down for meditation but I kept falling asleep. I lit a lavender and vanilla candle. I have an amethyst worry stone that I hold when meditating. As I settle into my spot, I can feel the energies around me fading away. My consciousness faded in the scents of lavender and vanilla and I went onto a different plane.

should i do a taglist?

MasterList

[mr-leach]

So I've enabled tipping on my blog because I'm in a rough spot and I'm gonna be struggling to feed everyone for the next week or two, depending on certain factors. Sob story is below the cut cause I genuinely hate having to drag this shit out but I also feel like I owe it to the people potentially willing to help me out, so:

So some of you may or may not know that I recently had a bout with thyroid cancer this past year or so and that I had surgery in the summer to have one side of my thyroid removed. If you didn't, it's cause genuinely I'm not a huge fan of talking about it in online spaces cause it's pretty personal and I don't really like the type of attention stuff like this gets.

Anyway at the time I was not doing too badly financially--I actually had a bit of savings built up and I had enough work hours accumulated that I qualified for EI sickness benefits so I wasn't too worried. Well, what I didn't know was that the "insurable weeks" number for my region was increased from 15 to 24, which heavily altered their calculations and made it so I was essentially getting 35% of my regular paycheck each week.

On top of that, the CRA still wanted me to pay back their CERB "loan" (if you follow any other Candians you may have heard about this garbage move by the government to sign up workers who were laid off during the start of the pandemic onto a benefit program that, while it kept a lot of people afloat, apparently included a caveat that if you didn't use 100% of it and went back to work you would have to pay $2k back to them, essentially punishing essential workers for going back to work) and decided they were going to garnish my already dismal benefit payments. They figured I would be fine to survive off of $90 a week while recovering from surgery.

Predictably, my savings disappeared. I am very grateful that my roommate was patient and did not see fit to make me move out when I couldn't pay rent, and when I got back to work I tried as hard as I could to pay him back as quickly as possible. I was essentially giving him every dollar I was not already spending on rent and bill payments. I struggled to pay for groceries and had to beg folks on twitter for money.

At the same time I started to develop further health issues. I couldn't sleep at night, I felt like sleeping all day, and I started experiencing episodes of somnolence (sudden feelings of tiredness bordering on falling asleep) while at work. I would have to leave work early, or sometimes I would even fall asleep while eating my breakfast in the morning. I missed more and more work and when I did make it in my performance would plummet after 4 hours and I would make major mistakes or even injure myself. I work in a garment factory btw.

I struggled to get in touch with my doctor, or really, any doctor to figure out what was wrong. Our healthcare system right now is in the process of being tanked to hell by the provincial government so they can justify introducing a two tier semi privatized system that values money over care. All this to say I was basically on my own trying to treat my worsening health with sleep supplements and energy drinks. It helped, but not enough. As of early February I was still missing work and struggling to stay awake most days.

I hit a wall and my anxiety made it impossible to go to work in the morning. Full on anxiety attacks, self harm, emotional breakdowns, the works. I asked to take a leave of absence to try and focus 100% on getting better. I've since been able to get in contact with my doctor and hopefully work towards a solution.

Right now I am waiting. I am waiting on EI to get back to me about benefits. I am waiting to hear from Social Services to see if they can help. And I am waiting on my tax return to be reviewed so I can pay my past due rent. I have a negative account balance. I went to the store yesterday and bought milk and margarine with a roll of change. The CRA is saying I could be waiting until the 13th to hear about my tax assessment. EI does not have an estimate for me lol. Social Services hasn't even gotten back to me and I'm dreading trying to reach out due to past trauma working with them.

Anyway. If you have anything to give the tip option is there. I'm gonna attempt to make dnd adoptables as well in the meantime but I'm gonna be real it might take too long to make anything worthwhile and idk if it can wait. I got myself, my spouse, and Victor to keep fed and my roommate breathing down my neck at this point so if you've read all this and have anything to spare it would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading.

[the-firebird69]

Two things to mention the place is a mess it's not finished the paint hasn't been painted you don't have to per code it looks really bad the whole place leaked and the roof isn't fixed not completely the glass is still broken and that's not safe Port Charlotte and the admitted that we're a message say and her son said it this is a disaster and there's another storm or two coming hopefully it won't hit New England and North Carolina the place not very good shape either but it's better than this and he's wondering why people are doing work. They have money a lot of money and they could have just hired people and there's a lot of people that could hire and there's a ton of work telling people could have had our son do stuff nobody nobody did anything it's just a series of threats and it's unending and they're going nowhere it's getting worse and worse and he's telling the girl there's a ton of people here usually there's some younger people some old people now there's people everywhere doing nothing. She knew about it and she said this is going to stop at least we should be applying ourselves to make a plan coming up with the plan they can temporary repairs and to keep ourselves busy and staying healthy and instead it's just waiting for something and it we felt it before too for years this same group is waiting for something it is working and stuff so it's a form of masochism and it's it's very dangerous and gross and that's what he's experiencing all the time with others here and he doesn't like it it's evil so we are doing things he's right too it's swamped again with people who don't do anything

-Charlotte county has lost about 50 workers today that's for the county that's out of the 3500 remaining and they're working on it now and it's it's quite a bit of people there are a lot of people who work there so you have to account for that but they're still at 3500 the same people their clerks and it will affect them but not that much

-in addition to that they had about 10% government workers left in Florida last week they got down to about 5% this week and today they're they say they're firing 2% more that's a lot and it's continuous it will affect things they're going to try to get it by force again and they'll probably hand over more equipment because they went after Stan and they've reached to two bases out of five and they're swarming in and he's really low he's down to like 3 million ships but they're huge so the number of people are high it's getting worse not better

-along with that the police to fire the sheriff and other agencies they're laying off probably they said 20% and we think they'll get to 10%, it's going on today all throughout the day that's a lot of people out of agencies that are law enforcement and they haven't been doing it they're doing it now they're laying them off and they're patrolling and going back to their headquarters and it takes a lot of work they say.

-private businesses today are laying off people and they're a good sized they're probably several that are in the very large category and they're going to be laying off probably 15% more and they're 70% laid off and they're hiring Max as they do it is it giant operation and other than there's a few more things happening they said that they're coming into the two towns and they are removing people who are troublemakers and what they mean is they have records and they are supposedly unstoppable and so forth they're seeking them daily now and they said they would and they finally got up to speed

-have a situation with clones where the clones are becoming aggressive and they are getting dangerous so you think that they should not be doing that

-there are several other people who are causing issues that they're going after and they are people who have no permits for work on their homes and people who do not have contractors license and more things like that people who have businesses that are defined or in arrears or have too many calls in against them or simply a ripping people off and they're sending out a lot of people after them the bad part is that sometimes they do the work and they just get behind but they're going after Bullock.

-they're recording off the county and they are making sure that they don't get in on a large scale they have rings now they are monitoring those rings and they're utilizing what they have and they're bringing hardware down and they're making it yes they're getting it from the Midwest as well in upper Midwest and it is the same stuff that these guys were using so they noticed that

More shortly

Thor Freya

Olympus

Hera good kens here

Zues

[eponymous-rose]

Tuesday!

Working from home! No big fires in e-mail today, just one of my research interns CCing me in a conversation with a postdoc about getting her remote access to our servers and a quick note to my colleague asking if she's going to be in the field today during our usual meeting time.

Working on my lecture for tomorrow's class! I did indeed have a half-finished set of slides ready to go here so hopefully not too bad. For reference, I've taught this class before 3 times, but only ever in a co-teaching thing with another faculty member; this is my first time teaching the whole course solo (it's technically 7 hours a week of lecture/lab/writing, so it used to be split since our faculty technically should only be teaching 3-4 hours a week (not including prep time etc) given our research expectations - we're working on dialing it back a little). This lecture is one of the last of the new-to-me material where I'm working entirely from someone else's notes - so excited to get back into my material from previous years! Class prep is about 90% easier and about two or three times better the second time I teach it, and it only improves from there. Very grateful to my colleague for her help and guidance in co-teaching but it's also so dang nice to have full control over how this course is presented and evaluated. Got the lecture put together!

Aha, colleague can hop on for a quick call in the early afternoon! Half an hour until I meet with her, so I'd better take a quick peek at her comments on my research proposal. Oh man, lots of really great suggestions and hopefully nothing super super time-consuming to implement. She's been really successful at getting funding from various national agencies so I'm super grateful for her feedback (we're co-writing these two project proposals - I'm lead on this one, she's lead on the other). I do have some substantial prior research funding from this agency and had a lovely chat with the program manager, who seemed excited about this proposal, so I really want to make sure I'm putting my best foot forward. Ahh, and she had to delay half an hour so that gives me a little more time to start making changes.

I go through and for each of her comments either make a change or leave a note for what needs to be done. Just a couple quick things to clarify with her on the call - we're envisioning this project as opening future lines of research rather than as an end unto itself and I'm having trouble deciding where to place our community-wide efforts (working with leaders in certain impacted communities to inform future research directions). Normally I'd want that to happen early, but we honestly won't have much of substance to share with them until the dry modeling stuff is done, so we might want to frame this first three-year project as a laying-the-groundwork thing. She also rightly highlights that we should do some deeper digging to find out if there are any warning signs about using some of our tools in these very unusual environments (the whole point of this research is weird weather happening where we wouldn't normally expect it to, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that some stuff Simply Will Not Do in a new environment). Due diligence is important! I also need to better describe how we're setting up our 'control' dataset. Right. Ready for the meeting, back to e-mail.

One of my students who was having trouble getting his data is sending me grumpy emails about the department-provided computer being "old and slow" and like... yeah, I'm sorry, but if you want to do science you're gonna have to use some legacy equipment sometimes. Flashback to 2010 where I did an entire research project using Windows 95 because that was the only OS that worked with the incredibly outdated software that underpinned the $25,000 camera setup we were using. Turns out private companies eventually just stop giving a shit about legacy support, go figure. In this case, all the computer needs to do is stay alive long enough to download a small text file and throw it on a thumb drive once a week. I send him a sympathetic e-mail since it sounds like he just wants to have someone make an "oh no" sound at him rather than actually expecting me to do something about it, but I do include a bit of a gentle nudge that we're providing him a laptop for free here and remind him that dealing with real scientific setbacks (including subpar equipment) is a big part of the hands-on portion of this class.

As I wait for my colleague to get online for our meeting, quick check-in on the to-do list for the week. All that remains:

Prepare some lectures for next week (optional but would be nice to my future self!)

Finish the last set of changes to the proposal after our meeting and submit it to our grants admin

Get a good start on the commissioned review article (currently have a synopsis approved by the editor of the journal and a list of 90-odd references... I want to get this done soon so I can send it to my coauthors to give them time to squabble over the details)

I'm gonna putter on the lectures a little bit, since they're a bit shorter to set up and it'll be nice to just have them done. One is a lecture I've given in the past; a few quick changes and it's good to go. The next is going to be a guide to technical writing and a deep dive into the grading rubric for their final project. Pretty straightforward (the kind of thing I'd normally stick in an intro lecture if I didn't know they'd forget all about it by this point), but lots of important information! I may take a stab at this and come back to it later since I probably want to sleep on some of it.

Great meeting with my colleague! We co-advise a postdoc, a grad student, and two undergrads (lots of overlap in our research areas, plus we just get along great and are next-door office neighbors) so there's a lot of catch-up to do. We run through the specifics of the grant proposal I outlined above and decide I'm going to make the changes this week and send her the draft to look over by next week so we can get it out the door! Exciting stuff. We also talked about my maybe hiring a second graduate student this year, which I definitely need to think about more.

Tomorrow: MEETINGS. So many meetings. At least the seminar is cancelled again, although I'm sure I'll get some panicked emails looking for it at some point.

I'm gonna do this again because it turned out last week kinda went off the rails without it and the little bit of accountability is super super helpful.

Monday!

It's a busy week! It's also my birthday week! Let's do this!

E-mail with coffee: sent a prospective grad student a congratulations on her admission to our program. I'm really hoping to hire her, but I do need to consider whether I might want to admit two students for this position and just get the extra funding for the second one elsewhere if both decide to come. Hmm. Confirmed coffee on Friday with the wonderful admin I've been wanting to befriend for a while - finally we'll interact outside of paperwork! Sadly Wednesday's seminar speaker is ill and won't be able to present - I'm leading the seminar so that does add up to a little less work for me, which is the silver lining there. One of my student groups is struggling to grab data from the weather station they built on the roof because the dang software doesn't work on Macs - managed to coordinate getting them a loaner PC laptop from the department, whew. Completed two letters of reference for an undergrad student applying to internships. Somehow managed to double-book a meeting and gave one a heads up to cancel. Showed my availability for scheduling a PhD defense for a student whose committee I'm on. One of the speakers for my seminar series sent a somewhat passive-aggressive e-mail to the department chair to let him know his info's not up on the website yet. Department chair forwarded it to me, I replied with, essentially "hold your dang horses, your talk isn't until mid-March". He replied back with a sheepish apology. All good.

Formulated my list of essential stuff for this week:

finish Wednesday's (and next week's?) lecture(s?)

prepare next week's homework & key

work on grant proposal

work on commissioned review article

So excited that we're finally to the part of the class that I have taught before in past years! Great lecture today about statistical data analysis. Hurt everyone's brains with the Monty Hall problem. Showed a lot of XKCD comics, got some laughs. Good times. Answered some student questions on the homework assignments, looks like everyone's on track to ace this one as well. This is a really strong class and I'm very proud of them!

On to a virtual meeting with my peer mentoring group! We talk about how utterly wild it is that different departments manage research funding in completely different ways. I vent a bit for the umpteenth time about having to rely 100% on grants to pay my grad students (bigger departments often have student funding provided if they TA, but we just don't have enough classes to sustain that). Easily the biggest source of stress in my life right now is running out of funding for my students: "in order to pay your graduate students, you have to receive a major grant" "cool! how likely am I to get one?" "success rates are about 1 in 15" "uhhhh" "also the applications (if you manage to find a perfect match for your research) take about 40-60 hours to plan and write and it's not work that's looked at formally as part of your tenure review so you're actively taking time away from research" "uhhhhhhh" "and you won't find out if you have been awarded the grant or not before you have to make the decision to hire a student so you just gotta gamble on it" "UHHHHHHH" "you don't get paid in the summer either unless you pull in 2-3 grants that can each cover one month max of salary so I hope you're not putting well over 50% of your take-home toward rent in one of the worst markets in the US or anything haha." It's A Lot. But it's very helpful to talk to people about it!

Realized I left my half-finished Wednesday lecture on my computer at home so I can't work on it during my break between meetings. Shoot, guess that's a tomorrow problem. At least I can work on the homework assignment! This one was an absolute nightmare last year but I think I've come up with a way to simplify it while still hitting all of the learning goals. It's complicated but hopefully very satisfying and builds on everything they've learned thus far. Even with the simplification, I'm definitely expecting some traffic in office hours next week. Opted not to include the more tedious section of the homework because I've tested that particular skill amply in the earlier assignments this quarter. Ran through it once on my own, sent myself the key, then posted the homework and the submission portal for their online module for next week, so all I'm missing now is the lectures.

E-mail break! A professor at a small university nearby wants to bring in a grad student from my group to talk to her class about tornadoes! I have someone in mind (who is both a great presenter and also could use a little confidence boost to get back on track with his research), but of course he's working remotely on the other side of the country, so it's time for a quick check to see if a remote presentation is possible. Checking in on my seminar speaker for next week - project title and abstract up on the website, phew. She's a grad student, so I should find out if her advisor can introduce her or if they want me to do so (and if so, I gotta do some digging for fun facts to share!). Got an invite to a lunch with the faculty & chair where we're going to be brainstorming our next faculty hire, so I gotta be there for that (also because free food)! Surreal to think that we might be hiring my colleague for the next 30 years. It's... kind of intimidating and I definitely want to be in the room for that discussion. Aha! A reply already: virtual talk is fine, so I put the professor and my grad student in touch.

Nice virtual meeting with my former postdoc advisor - we commiserate for a while over his recent illness, but he's feeling better now so we quickly jump back to talking research. The small grant I was awarded recently actually dovetails with some of the broader research ideas he and I had been talking about, so I'm gonna keep him in the loop on that!

Up next: a meeting with my two undergraduate research interns. They're coadvised by my colleague who is flying research aircraft on the other side of the country right now so it's just the three of us. Due to holidays and conferences, this is actually the first time in 2023 we all managed to meet! We go over some paperwork to make sure they get college credit for this research. They're spinning their wheels a little bit but I had them shoot off a couple emails while I was there to start them getting their data ASAP. We then chatted about severe weather we'd all witnessed. One of the students mentioned she's been saving the candy from my office candy bowl for whenever she forgets to bring lunch to campus and now I'm realizing I should maybe get some protein bars or something for some variety.

All good stuff. There's a seminar in 15 minutes but it's a chemistry seminar so... I may just sneak home a bit early.

Tomorrow: no meetings (maaaybe one remote meeting), so work-from home! Should be able to get the last bit of coursework done for the week so I can start on my research to-do list.

[cheesus-doodles]

Yo is it just me or does it make sense for yandere kokonoi (and maybe inui too) to keep a very close eye on darling's medical appointments and physical health? Cuz he definitely was traumatized when he lost akane... so i'm thinking he'd be the type to run them to the doctor's over a small fever- since he has those resources now, he'd want to use them every chance he can.

(idk it just reminded me of how i have an uncle who grew up in an area where it was really hard to find/buy shoes, so now that he lives in a better place, at least once a month he'll try to buy shoes for me. I think that koko might develop similar behavior but with medical stuff instead of shoes)

ah I do love me some Koko love. I've been feeling kind down this week :/ back here to escape again - hopefully life has been kind to yall :)

Masterlist

‎

Ahh definitely sounds like Koko (and to a lesser extent, Inupi, no matter how much this boy denies it). Being unable to pull through for Akane all those years ago, now that Koko had the means, this boy was determined that he would never fail you the same way. He was your bestfriend after all, and he would make sure that you were well-cared for at all times, that you would never have to suffer even a single moment (or rather, he would never have to suffer through the potential mental trauma of losing someone so precious to him again).

Started out as just him pouring over you, anxiously wringing his hands whenever you have a sniffle even if its after coming out of an air-conditioned environment - you go along with it and allow Koko to indulge, dragging you to the doctor's whenever, because you don't want him to have another nervous breakdown like when you refuse. Somehow manages to pull Inupi into this as well when he finally gets to meet you - you and your mannerisms and the way you treated him remind this boy too much of Akane for him not to get involved in your life.

Koko definitely has a team of private doctors on his retainer and on call 24/7, all of whom are very well certified and come highly recommended, yet even still he can't quite trust them to see you without him or Inupi present. What if they didn't know how to properly handle someone as fragile as you? What if these "doctors" tried to fool around with you, or tell you all sorts of lies about him and Inupi, or tried to help you run away? The two of them make sure that they are there the whole check-up session, insisting that they can help to remember what was said, that they were making sure the doctor treated you right, honestly anything to convince you to let them sit in. And if words didn't work, crying always did the trick.

But when you start insisting that you were okay, that you really didn't need all the fussing and would like to stop having to see doctors every other day so you had time to attend school and do literally anything else, Koko would instead very guiltily start making you feel sick. Nothing serious of course, just enough to make you feel maybe weak in the limbs, or giddy in the head, enough to 'help' you to agree to yet another doctor's visit. A mild case of vitamins or sugar deficiency, some stomach discomfort - symptoms that are easy to induce and easy to resolve. The two definitely do collude to make you weaker as time goes on though - still nothing that could actually harm you. But you were a lot more agreeable and malleable when you didn't have the strength to do much more than sleep and eat, plus Koko had the opportunity to get you to see even more doctors and have more check ups.

And Koko and Inupi 100% absolutely loves it when you were so dependent on him - Koko especially loves helping to draw your blood every day for all the various blood tests that he orders under the watchful eye of a trained nurse (and then later on by himself), loves helping you swallow the variety of pills that you get prescribed for your various symptoms together combined with all the supplements he makes you take. Inupi secretly enjoying helping to spoon feed you and gently lifting you out of bed and into a wheelchair (refusing to let you walk even if you said you were feeling okay after that one time you fell over), pushing you around wherever you needed to go. And you were happy to repay them in anyway you could, letting the boys cuddle with you whenever they wanted (since you spend most of the days sleeping anyway), freely handing out affection and attention.

Once you "started getting better" and recovered your strength, Koko and Inupi definitely throw you an enormous party to celebrate - a cause to celebrate given that you were also finally starting to listen to them and give in to their strict supervision and close monitoring of your health.

[transbodydreams]

Things transwomen should think about before they start transitioning - clothes edition!

Okay, I'm a month into committing to transitioning, and one of the first things I've had to deal with is building a brand new wardrobe. I had a handful of feminine items, but nothing that was practical and nowhere NEAR enough to actually have something to wear every day! It's been really hit or miss so far - I do now have enough cute, wearable clothes that I could wear something different every day for a week, but that included buying at least as much stuff that didn't fit, was poorly made, or turned out to look terrible on me. I've had to entirely relearn how to shop for clothes and wade through a ton of confusing, contradictory information about sizes, fabrics, styles, and all of the things that make women's clothing so much more fun (and infuriating) than men's. These are a few of the key lessons I've learned that I wanted to share - hopefully someone will see this and not make at least some of the mistakes I made? 😏

Trying to build an entirely new woman's wardrobe all at once is f*cking expensive! Women's clothes cost more than men's in general, and bigger sizes cost more than smaller sizes - sometimes a LOT more, since often the sale prices you see online only apply to the smallest sizes. As a man I could walk into Old Navy or someplace like it and pick up a couple pairs of pants, 2-3 shirts, and some underwear for less than $75, but the equivalent women's basics at a will cost you anywhere from $100 to $200, even if you're shopping at a discount chain like Marshall's. You'll find better deals online, but still expect everyday clothes to cost you at least 25% more for even the most simple items, and don't even get me started on the cost of a really nice dress!

Set a budget and plan your purchases based on what you need, not just what you want. You need to start with basic FUNCTIONAL items like practical, wearable underwear (hose, panties, bras. etc.), season appropriate tops, leggings, skirts, dresses, and if winter's coming, don't forget sweaters and outerwear!

You really do need to know ALL of your measurements before trying to buy clothes - don't guess, you'll get it wrong! There are lots of online resources that tell you what and how to measure. Get yourself a measuring tape and write it all down! Oh, and good luck trying to figure out what a listed "bust" measurement means for a top or dress - does it mean underbust or chest or overbust or bust, because those are all different names for two different measurements 😒

You're going to want to throw out all of your boy clothes, but remember that some female things are just not going to fit you yet, no matter how badly you want them too. Pants are a good example, especially fitted jeans. Unless you're really lucky or you plan on wearing a padded girdle all the time, you probably don't have the butt or hips yet to make most women's jeans work. If you already have some men's slim-fit stretch jeans, for example, very few people will notice the difference from women's low waisted jeans (other than the fly going the wrong way) and they'll look better on you. Plus, some men's items can be repurposed to be worn in a more feminine way, so resist the urge to burn them all!

If you're only wearing your fem clothes at home you can afford to be a little impractical, but if you intend to start wearing them in public remember that you'll need practical stuff that you can wear to do mundane things like grocery shopping or going to work. Don't be that girl in the bodycon mini-dress and 6" platform heels in the produce section!

If there's someplace you feel comfortable going in person, you really should start by trying some things on in a store to get a sense of how things fit and what will work on your body vs what you WISH would work on your body. Online ordering is private and safe and awesome, but there's no telling if what you buy will fit or work for you. If you take the time to try on a bunch of things on for real first, at least you'll have a basic idea of what might work and what definitely won't.

Think about what you want your personal style to be, and try to be realistic about it. Much more than men's clothes, women's clothes are really designed for very specific body types, and no matter how much you wish you could pull off a look, you need to figure out what actually works for your body now. Are you thin enough or young enough to carry off that super cute ultra-stylish street and clubwear, or is it just going to make you look old and fat? Do you really have the hips and butt to pull off those booty shorts? Think about all the times you saw someone dressing inappropriately for their age or body type and cringed, and don't be that person. If your goal is to look good in those styles then figure out what you need to do for it to work for you, but don't waste all of your money buying things that don't look good now and won't fit when you achieve the body you're working toward. Patience, woman! You'll get there!

All that said, if you really feel great wearing things that aren't necessarily "right" for your body, then f*ck anyone who tries to judge you for it. You be you, girl!

Just because it says it's a size 12 doesn't mean it actually IS a size 12. Women's sizes vary a LOT depending on what brand you're buying or where you're buying it from, especially if they only use small/medium/large etc instead of numerical sizes. Find a store or brand that fits you consistently and use that as your gold standard. that way if you buy something from a different brand or store you can get a sense of whether their items are going to trend bigger or smaller.

Finally, a word about wish.com. Someone suggested this site, which is basically the Chinese version of Amazon, as a place to get some stuff really inexpensively, but it is definitely a buyer beware situation. The prices are jaw droppingly low, it's true (seriously, you can find just about anything for under $5!), but it's REALLY hit or miss, like you should expect at least a third of what you buy to be unusable. The sizes are all over the map - some items don't list a size chart at all, and in general everything is a size or two smaller than you would expect it to be, except when it's not. Plus, a lot of the less expensive stuff they have is really poor quality, and their shipping times and costs are RIDICULOUS! I ordered a bunch of cute summery things and not only did the shipping cost more than the items, it's taken so long for them to get here that it's now too cold for me to wear them anywhere except around the apartment with the heat on full blast! I love the site and will probably keep using it (who could resist getting 3 dresses, two tops, two pairs of heels, 2 pairs of leggings, and a couple of cute bras and panties for under $100, even including the exorbitant shipping and the likelihood that at least 4 of those items will be unwearable?) but do your homework and at least read the product info and reviews before purchasing! And remember, it's really easy to get a refund on wish, and given that they only ask you to return items that cost more than $25, all that cheap stuff is basically free to try if you're willing to wait 4-8 weeks for it!

[yaomomvs]

SEIJOH MANANGER HEADCANONS

seijoh, aoba johsai x reader | slight oikawa, iwaizumi and kunimi x reader.

a/n: ugh! i just love my seijoh boys so much! and so, i decided to make one more headcanons for them, tysm! hopefully i’ll do inarizaki next or maybe karasuno.

a bit long but i just love them,and i will do a part two mainly focusing on while they do volleyball this is more of random things

other seijoh!manager works: one | two

the volume in this bus is ASTRONOMICAL

you actually never thought of joining a club, specially a sports one.

but you needed it, so while looking at the board of the school’s options you were unsure.

“i just really need something not that complicated, and that helps me helping others” you muttered to yourself

little did you know the coach of the volleyball team was there, this nice man turned to you and offered you a place in the team.

“but please if you are one of oikawa’s fangirls dont-” “who now?” you genuinely asked. seeing that you didn’t had a clue of who he was talking about he immediately handed the application for to you.

it was first day and you were already late, but you managed to enter the gym half way practice.

you guys remember that tanaka and kiyoko scene in s4? well it was the same

“sorry for being late coach!” your voice sounded all over the place since someone was serving and it was pretty quiet.

ALL OF THEM WERE SHOCKED LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️

the serve even hit yahaba’s face because everyone got distracted by your beauty

“i- did i do something?” “existing omg”

the coach lined up everyone and they greeted you welcoming you to the team.

you were flustered because it was like you never had a lot of guys around you and now you had to take care of all of them and also

aoba johsai’s team had one of the most attractive boys around likeeee

now, a year later, the energy is purely chaotic.

and i mean like

kindaichi and kunimi are lowkey the ones who respect you the most

not only because you, even if it was for only a year, you were their upperclassman but also you had presence

when karasuno came to the practice andy oh catched both of them after talking to kageyama in the bathroom, you pinched their ears and scolded them

“you both do that again and i’m not being compassionate” “SORRY Y/N”

but also lowkey your admirers

kunimi literally only showed strong emotions around you

“i brought you some sweets” he regularly says

“oh you are great! thank you kunimi!”you appreciated this guys little details with you

“so you have a favoritism with our manager huh?”

“y/n permission to hit kindaichi”

“permission conceded”

kindaichi also respected you because you, when he entered seijoh months ago, were one of the ones who made him believe and helped getting over that anger he had with his ex teammates and you even assured that kageyama was the reason he got better, even if he wouldn’t accept it

the second years, your literal followers

like seriously yahaba watori were always around you.

being in the same grade and class as both dod not helped a lot.

they are like puppies with anxiety separation

because you are the reason they feel loved and cared for

they always sit next to you in class, and they make sure you are comfortable with it.

you need help with hw? watori always is there

yahaba lets you paint his nails every time you got bored in class

you were such a powerful trio

they always bring your favorite drink in the mornin

you even developed this sixth sense where if you just look at each other you know exactly who are you making fun of without even speaking

you always make fun of the shit way of yahaba to flirt oml

and you even advice him on what should he do or not when meeting someone new.

istg if it was not bc of you he would have never got his first date with his crush

kyoutani later joined you, but he had trouble on trusting you

but seeing all the team laying on you he actually let himself rely on another person for the first time

he was the one who scared those stupid volleyball boys fan girls (oikawa’s or the other guys ones) away from you

he also thinks that you are not bad physically talking and he actually says it but privately

he also whenever he is mad or just frustrated comes to you and what he likes is that you don’t go in deep of the details but instead you try to distract him with random thing you say.

“guys i told you several times” you laughed “i do have other thing to do! it not like i can attend every night out with you! i have other friends too!”

“so, we are not watching cartoons tonight?”

“i hate you all so much” you surrendered “see you at 8 pm”

you became the second years core four

and also they looked up to you a lot, why? because you are the only people who always deals with the third years shit

god i think your connection with the third years was only a bit more noticeable than the second years

why? you were not afraid to mess up with them

to be real iwaizumi as oikawa caught your eye since moment one, they were naturally attractive and talented but you made a promise to not fall for anyone

omg you were so wrong

if it was iwaizumi, he always made sure you felt comfortable around

you were no vb genius so he took the time to explain you a bunch of things you did not know 🥺

also, he’s the kind of guy to stop everyone spiking because you were crossing through the gym so no ball gets you

he is the one who always search for you in school, asked about your day, and stuff that might seem basic but it was really meaningful

like he is the kind of guy who memorizes all your favorite places, treats, music anything and actually tries to get you to talk about it

oikawa on the other hand was the one who actually made you feel like part of them

he is so sweet!

like

oikawa only starts practice when you are there

like bold of someone to start hitting a ball without you there, he considered you part of the team, so he always waited for you

he walked you home or nearby every time he could he wanted you safe

his eyes always always instantly light up and screams “y/n-chan!” and immediately runs to you

but also he is the one who search you the most around

if it was lunch time he went to your home room and literally lunches with you no matter what or who

he never lets anyone lend you their hoodie, it always has to be his that you are wearing

he self crowned himself as your favorite

he hugs you out of nowhere istg is the best feeling ever

hanamaki also also also considers you priority

he is kinda more of the lowkey one, he is mainly the one who checks up on you

he once spotted a bruise in your arm and he immediately freaked out

“DO I HAVE TO FIGHT SOMEONE” “god no! i just dropped a huge book there!”

hanamaki is the one who waits for you in the entrance of the gym to walk with you to practice

he also is the first one to notice if something is wrong with you along with iwachan

they both unintentionally pay attention to you a lot and if you do something out of the common they just approach you

and they are always right

“what’s wrong y/n?” hanamaki says

“yeah, is everything okay you need anything?” iwaizumi continues.

“what do you mean guys? i’m okay” you obviously try to lie.

“no you are not, you are acting different”

“yea iwachan is right you always change yous t shirt before practice and the way you are ordering the volleyballs is off”

“why do know me so well” you indeed had a terrible day, so you almost tear up bb of that and be of how amazing your boys were to you sometimes”

“come here little one”

you heard a pout

“i see you oikawa, you can get a hug too. matsu come here”

matsukawa is your hype man

he loves messing with you like in the big brother sister way

like if a guy asked you out he’d be like “sis you can do so much better”

you are always being salty whether it’s between you or other ones

besides if you do have a crush on anyone on the team matsu is the only one to know

and he’d constantly blackmail you with that

“if you don’t buy me anything from the vending machine i will tell oikawa you actually swoon for him” “OKAY FINE”

“tell the coach that we do not need laps or iwaizumi is gonna knowwwww about” “i hate you so much”

but returning to the point you always messed with them specially the four third years

and you were so good at it

one day, you ‘innocently’ mentioned to the boys “i’m just telling you! i’ve never seen two pretty best friends, one of them always gotta be ugly”

GOD LORD THE BOMB YOU JUST ACTIVATED

THEY SPENT A WHOLE WEEK TRYING TO FUGURE OUT WHO WAS THE PRETTY BEST FRIEND BETWEEN IWA AND OIKAWA, ALSO MATSU AND HANAMAKI AHHAHAHAAH

your third years never made you feel insecure

like if you think idk listening to btr was weird because someone in the past made you feel like it be sure the next day they WILL PLAY FUCKING BIG TIME RUSH IN PRACTICE ONLY FOR YOU TO VIBE WITH THEM

also they all four have this little thought that they have to be the ones who protect you

in the court you looked out for them, outside of it they were the ones who did that

if you were teased or someone even had the audacity to make fun of you it could go three ways

you stoping kyoutani and yahaba because they were so ready to throw hands

matsukawa, hanamaki and kunimi just taking you out of there and rather say positive thinks about you

or oikawa and iwaizumi behind you giving the saltiest and meanest glares to whoever dared talking you that way and saying “and you still wonder why people don’t like you?, ” then iwaizumi says “you are right oikawa, you piece of crap have your entire life to be a jerk. take a day off your stupidity won’t left anyways”

god you sure loved those guys

BUT

as it can be really useful sometimes there were other times were they become so annoying

specially when it’s about someone liking you.

like romantic styles

i live for the idea that the vb team had obviously fangirls, oikawa mostly. but you also did

like yeah the fangirls of oikawa and the boys envied you

but the guys in aoba johsai high envied the volleyball team even more

god bless the poor guy or girl who DARES to ask you out

like please someone stop them 😭

on valentine’s day you came to practice a bit late just because you needed to figure it out how to organize all the fucking love letters and the chocolates and flowers that you got over the day.

oikawa was already worried as he always waited for you to start, and so were the guys so they decided to warm up a bit more to wait.

you crossed the door with thousands of gifts and all of that barely catching the ones which you dropped. because at this point you did not even try to hide it from the boys, you just wanted them to start practice.

he looked at you and knew exactly what that meant. he received this every once in a while, but god what was that feeling in his chest when some other people like you?

iwaizumi felt that too, that weird feeling not wanting anyone to think about you that wayyyyy

the rest of the boys had divided opinions but still you were their manager.

“so did all this came from...”

“yes matsu...”

“okay but for scientific purposes we need the names”

“HANAMAKI NO”

poor boys, they just are all scared that you’ll leave them because of someone

what a dramatic queens they are all

some of them didn’t like it bc they also had a big crush on you

so what they do is that they gatekeep anyone from you

like oml if they ever catched you and a girl or guy and they knew they liked you they constantly beg for your attention.

and it’s not only because they are being dramatic but also because they remember last year when you went out with some random dude and broke your heart like

they almost killed that guy

so they wanted you to feel happy and safe

to them? honestly you are the light of their life.

they dedicate every game to you, they take care of you, they listen to you, they brag about you, they love you

because honestly you did all that for them first

and ever since then they made sure to return that to you.

[13uswntimagines]

Ghosted (Emily x Reader)

Request 1: sonnett where reader is really good friends with a goalie(your choice) and sonnett gets jealous because reader and goalie play for the same club and Emily is in Europe. Do she goes to Lindsey and reader thinks Emily is going to breakup with her and pushes her closer to the goalie and it’s a whole shit show

Request 2: Can you do a Emily Sonnett imagines where her and the reader are together but the reader use to date someone else on the team ( you can chose) and the comments gets to Emily. And the Reader shows Emily how much she loves her?

Request 3: Something with Jane Campbell please

Author’s Note: I thought these three would work very well together, so I combined them. Also, this one takes an interesting turn in the end and if you look closely enough there are hints to a very interesting dynamic and why reader and jane wouldn’t work out. Let me know what you think. I live for interactions and stuff. They help to keep me motivated. 

It had been one hell of a year. It had started with both you and your girlfriend getting zero notice when the thorns traded her to Orlando and you to Houston. Then you had been trapped on opposite ends of the country due to the pandemic. That distance only got bigger when she decided to go to Sweden when Orlando pulled out of the challenge cup. 

But the two of you had made it work. Well, at least you thought you had made it work. apparently, Emily thought differently, if the silent treatment you had gotten the second you stepped into camp 3 hours ago was anything to go by. 

Hell, she wouldn’t even look in your direction. All you wanted was to hold your girlfriend (cause you hadn’t seen her in person in almost 6 months) and it felt like she didn’t even give a fuck that you were there. And Lindsey intercepted you every time you tried to get close. 

You smiled as you approached your blond girlfriend, leaning on the squat rack next to her. Normally you’d wrap your arms around her and kiss her neck, but you didn’t want to overstep with this weird tension happening between you. 

“Hey Em, wanna partner?” you asked softly, almost shyly.

Emily didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.

“I’m already with Linds,” She said tensely. Since when had she been so on edge around you? 

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening between you and your girlfriend. You glanced down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting. 

“Oh, maybe-“ You started, poking the squat rack with your shoe. You looked up, only to find that Emily had already walked away and joined Lindsey on the other side of the gym. 

You sighed, finishing your thought into the blank air around you. “we could do dinner or something later. Guess not,” 

You blew out a long breath, willing yourself to hold back the tears. She didn’t even wait to see what you were going to say. Your eyes followed her as she hugged the blond midfielder and laughed loudly at whatever she was saying. It was like a knife in your heart. 

“What’s going on with you and Miss Sweden?” Hands on your shoulders and the voice right next to your ear should have made you jump, but you were too used to Jane’s scare tactics. 

You rolled your eyes and shrugged the keeper off of you, your gaze never leaving Emily. “Honestly, I have no clue,” You sighed deeply. She had never been like this with you before, and you definitely hadn’t expected your reunion to go like this. 

“Maybe it’s just jet lag. You know how she gets when she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Jane shrugged, poking at your dimples, trying to get you to laugh. You batted her hand away. 

“The question is how you know that,” You said, sending her a scathing look. 

She smirked impishly, wiggling her eyebrows. “I live with you, remember?”

You dramatically rolled your eyes, shoving your best friend. “I don’t think You’d ever let me forget,” 

The only good thing about your trade to the dash was that you got to hang out with your best friend every day. You and Jane had known each other since college and instantly hit it off as friends. When you had been traded, Jane also just happened to be looking for a roommate and things had worked out pretty well. 

“Well, if you’re still looking for a dinner date, I’m free tonight,”  Jane hummed, wrapping an arm around you again. 

“Been there, done that,” You scoffed playfully, shoving her again, but she didn’t let go of you this time. 

So maybe the two of you had tried in college. It was more of a fling than anything else, and it had mutually ended on great terms. You loved each other, but you weren’t in love and that was alright. You decided you were way better off as friends than lovers and left it at that. Plus, you had kinda fallen insanely hard for a certain blond cavalier.

“Not that kind of date,” She giggled, letting you shove her ways this time (definitely taking note of how your lips ticked up and patting herself on the back for clearing some of the clouds on your sunny personality away). 

“Whatever you say, now shut up and spot me,” 

The two of you were so caught up that you didn’t see the annoyed blue eyes following you from across the room, or the clenched fists and jaw that would have told you exactly what the issue with your girlfriend was. 

*****

You tried to smile as you entered the dining room, hoping that you would finally have the chance to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering your girlfriend. 

You spotted her from across the room, seated at a table with Rose, Sam, and Mal. You released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding at the absence of a certain blond midfielder. Emily had been attached to her side, and watching them was like a knife in your chest, every interaction a slice at what felt like the tiny thread keeping your relationship together. 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You asked as you approached the table, stopping short of the seat next to your girlfriend. 

She tensed, and you noted how her jaw clenched with furrowed eyebrows. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond another body slid between the two of you. 

“Yeah, it is,” Lindsey said firmly, setting her plate down right in front of the seat in question. You frowned, and your fingers tightened around your plate. You bit your lip in an attempt to not say the thing that was on your mind. Despite how pissed off you were with the woman, she was your friend too. 

You glanced around the table that was now awkwardly staring at you, your eyes landing on an empty seat next to Mal and across from Emily. 

“Alright, what about that one?” 

“Taken too,” Lindsey said shortly with a shrug. Mal glared at her. “No, it’s not, sit Y/n,”

The team was growing tired of the tension between you, and how sad you looked. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, sliding in beside Mal. 

Silence fell over the table, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You never felt so unwelcome around your friends before. 

“Well I better get going,” Emily said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, shoving the chair back and abruptly standing. Lindsey stood up next to her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Your chest ached at the hand placement and how Emily leaned into her. 

You shot up too, clearing your throat and extending your hand. “Wait Em, I thought maybe we could talk after dinner?” You said, desperation clear in your voice. The table had never heard you like this before, had never seen a crack in your typically cool and unfailingly in control exterior. 

“She’s already got plans,” Lindsey said with an eye roll, and Emily seems to tuck herself further into the taller midfielder. You gulped down the defeat and desperation threatening to crawl out of your chest. 

“Oh, um maybe I could join you then?” You asked hopefully. 

“Private plans Y/n.” Lindsey snapped, already beginning to guide Emily out of the room, seemingly careless to what you had to say. The blond defender didn’t even give you the courtesy of eye contact as she left. 

“Sure, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. I love you, Emily,” You called after their backs, watching them go. 

Everything in you seemed to deflate. It felt like she was leaving with a piece of you like she didn’t even care you were crumbling behind her. You didn’t try to stop the tears as they fell this time, slumping miserably back into your seat. 

A warm presence knelt next to you, and soft but calloused hands gently wiped the tears burning down your face. 

You met the keeper’s concerned blue eyes and allowed her to pull you into her strong embrace, hiding your face in her neck. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” You sobbed. Jane rubbed large circles on your back with one hand and squeezed you tight with the otherHands-onother hand was trying to hold your broken pieces together. 

“I don’t know either,” She said, kissing the side of your head. 

You missed Emily pausing at the door to send you one last look, but Jane didn’t. Her eyes bored into the blond defender. If she thought she could just jerk you around like this with no consequences then she had another thing coming. 

Jane wasn’t romantically attracted to you, but you were her best friend and she wasn’t about to let you continue to get hurt. Emily might be able to avoid you, but she wouldn’t be able to avoid Jane, the keeper would make sure of it. 

****

“Alright cut the Bullshit Sweden, you’ve been ignoring Y/n for a week. What the fuck is your problem,” Jane growled, stepping into the nearly empty locker room and glaring at your girlfriend. She knew you could more than take care of yourself, but this had gone on long enough. 

Emily tensed at the new presence, back straightening and eye going wide. She hadn’t bet on the head of the Houston department of defense to get involved. 

“Fuck off Campbell,” Lindsey said back, stepping so she was standing protectively in front of her best friend. 

“I will not because your best friend there is hurting my best friend,” Jane took another step towards the duo, puffing out her chest. 

“Yeah right, she’s barely even noticed,” Emily scoffed, crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

“See, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that considering she’s cried herself to sleep every night since she’s been here,” Jane said, taking another terrifying step forward, stabbing her finger wildly into the air. 

She had been the one to hold you while you sobbed yourself to sleep because you were sure Emily had fallen out of love with you. The one who watched you agonize over every interaction you had with your girlfriend leading up to camp, trying to find where you had gone wrong. The one who listened to you degrade yourself for apparently driving Emily away and right into Lindsey’s arms. She was watching as you literally ripped yourself apart over this. 

“And what, You didn’t enjoy comforting your new girlfriend?” Lindsey scoffed loudly, shoving Jane’s hand (which was practically touching her chest) away. 

“What?” Jane asked shocked. 

Emily peeked over Lindsey’s shoulder, scowling at the keeper. Anyone with eyes knew what they meant. “Look, I know she’s cheating so you can both drop the friends act,” 

Jane oils to help the laugh that bubbled out of her lips. God, Emily was clueless if she thought you two were anything more than friends. Sure you had tried in college, but there weren���t romantic feelings there. You both wanted such different things out of a partner and agreed that you were better off as friends. Emily was your person, and Jane would be damned if anyone said anything different. 

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think she wants anyone but you and if you weren’t so far up Horan‘s ass you would know that. If you wanna break up with her to date Miss Portland then grow some balls and do it, but don’t you dare try and ghost the sweetest person in the world,” 

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” Emily spat. 

Jane rolled her eyes. “No, because it would hurt her more than you already have. She loves you, and I thought you loved her. If you do, then you should show it,”

Emily seemed to soften at Jane’s words. She did love you, more than life itself. She really had to talk this whole thing out with you. Jane didn’t give her a chance to respond, deciding that storming off to find you and make sure you were ready for practice was a more productive use of time (she would never admit that it scared her a little to leave you alone these days). 

*****

Emily wasn’t a jealous person. At least she tried not to be. But it was really fucking difficult when it came to you and your friendship with Jane. Well, it was difficult in the beginning, when she had you next to her, but with you so far away it was nearly unbearable. 

She hadn’t minded that the Dash moved you into Jane’s apartment, but then the comments started and they wouldn’t leave her alone. Instead of turning to you, talking it out with you, she had gone running to her own best friend. And in her effort to run from the fear that you wouldn’t choose her, she had hurt you in the process. 

She watched you from across the field, taking in the slight tilt of your head and slump of your shoulders. You smiled tightly at the keeper as she approached you, but Emily could tell that it didn’t reach your eyes, even from across the field. She also knew it wasn’t the blinding smile you saved solely for her. How hadn’t she noticed it before?

 “Jane was a little crude but she’s right you know,” Lindsey said, wrapping an arm around Emily’s shoulder, her eyes easily finding you. 

She felt bad about how Emily was treating you. 

“About which part?” Emily asked, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. Jane had said a whole lot, and she couldn’t find it within herself to disagree with them. It was childish to ignore you, and for her to be oblivious to your obvious feelings. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Lindsey scoffed, pinching Emily’s side a little harder than necessary. She didn’t like being the middleman between the two of you. You were her friend too after all. 

Emily sighed crossing her arms a little tighter around herself. “I know. I need to talk to talk to her,”

“I’m sure when she finds out what’s bothering you, there’ll be a whole lot more than talking. Isn’t communication one of those rules between the two of you?” Lindsey asked with a smirk, laughing loudly when Emily shoved her. The team knew about your relationship… dynamic and Lindsey was sure Emily was in for it when you realized exactly why the defender had broken your most sacred agreement. 

“Shut up,”

Emily’s cheeks flavored up at the implication. He was sure you’d come up with a very… creative… way to aid her in expressing her feelings next time and show her how much you loved her when you found out what this whole thing was about. 

*****

You watched Emily very carefully from your perch on the end of the bed. She had dragged you here right after practice, and as soon as the door closed the words were pouring out of her lips. 

You sat quietly, letting her finally get out the emotions she had been keeping from you for so long. She explained how the comments on Houston’s latest photo of you and Jane had started this whole shit show, and how terrified she was that you would decide you didn’t want to deal with the distance. 

You let her pace back and forth as she told you about how she didn’t want to confront the issue, so she thought ignoring you would be a better course of action. It didn’t give you a chance to tell her that you didn’t want to be with her anymore. 

She finally paused, turning to look at you with wide tearful eyes, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. 

“I don’t have romantic feelings for Jane,” You said seriously, looking your girlfriend right in the eyes. You wanted her to know how true those words were. She knew that tone and had this been a different conversation it would have sent a chill down her spine. 

“I know I just-“ She started, but you cut her rambling off an eyebrow raise and your firm voice“Got jealous and thought that cutting your losses was better than coming to me,” 

It was a rule in your relationship- communication was king. The only way things got done was if you talked about them. You talked through every aspect of your relationship, every like and dislike, every limit and desire. This situation broke every rule you had established and that didn’t sit well with you. You couldn’t be the only one initiating (or trying to), she had to do it too (especially if she was uncomfortable with something) for this whole thing to work. It scared you a little that she had just shut down and run off to Lindsey. 

Emily nodded slightly, staring a hole in your shirt. 

“I thought you had moved on already,” She mumbled. 

You stood from the bed, gently using a finger to tilt her head so you could look her in the eyes. You raised an eyebrow. “So you got cozy with Lindsey to make me feel as jealous as you were and then wouldn’t respond to me as punishment?”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would hurt less,” She mumbled, captivated by your y/e/c eyes and the little swirl of deeper emotion hidden inside. 

You nodded. stepping closer so your noises were almost touching and gently grasping her shoulders. “I love you Emily Ann Sonnett, even when you’re being a dumbass and ghosting me,” 

She could feel your breath fanning over her lips, only adding to the weight of your words. 

“I love you too,” Emily said, and you could see the truth to her words in her blue eyes. 

You smirked. “I know,” 

You leaned down and finally connected your lips. She grabbed your collar and pulled you closer, pouting all of her emotions into the kiss, trying to show you how much she loved you and how sorry she was for hurting you. 

Your lips moved together in a very familiar dance, slow and full of all of the emotions between you. At some point, you had flipped the two of you around so Emily was seated on edge of the bed. You pulled back and began to trail kisses down your girlfriend’s neck. 

She tilted her head to give you more room, sighing and moaning as you trailed your way down her chest, stomach, and thighs, placing kisses as you went until you were kneeling between her legs. Your fingers toyed with the waistband of her pants, an annoying cocky smirk plaster on your face when she whined that you were going too slow. 

“No, no baby girl. We’re going to work on your communication skills, so I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me exactly what you want,” 

[nugnthopkns]

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence. 

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something. 

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place. 

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more. 

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy. 

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain. 

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus. 

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over. 

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at. 

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why. 

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck. 

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste. 

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault. 

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize. 

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals. 

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things. 

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting. 

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person. 

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe. 

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better. 

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water. 

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we��re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands. 

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats. 

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program. 

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating. 

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack. 

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you. 

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked. 

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything. 

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home. 

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days. 

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice. 

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs. 

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes. 

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly. 

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight. 

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat. 

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment. 

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode. 

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.” 

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself. 

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase. 

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting. 

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble. 

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.” 

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed. 

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to. 

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home. 

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate. 

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year. 

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters. 

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone. 

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask. 

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat. 

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches. 

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors. 

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates. 

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time. 

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score. 

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended. 

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him. 

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah. 

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel. 

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up. 

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom. 

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair. 

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump. 

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip. 

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps. 

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey. 

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you. 

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake. 

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye. 

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel. 

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you. 

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before. 

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice. 

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves. 

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates. 

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet. 

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone. 

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd. 

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals. 

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features. 

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda. 

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point. 

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

 It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase. 

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him. 

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months. 

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received. 

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper. 

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about. 

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list. 

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship. 

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them. 

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights. 

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.  

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop. 

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.” 

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience. 

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around. 

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door. 

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles. 

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years. 

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut. 

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?�� 

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall. 

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?” 

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is. 

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete. 

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly. 

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction. 

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well. 

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much. 

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal. 

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror. 

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger. 

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates. 

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch. 

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city. 

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile. 

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift. 

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible. 

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable. 

“Good morning,” he repeats. 

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities. 

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off. 

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals. 

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine. 

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep. 

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front. 

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly. 

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay. 

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse. 

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.” 

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you. 

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself. 

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms. 

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot. 

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down. 

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help. 

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there. 

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater. 

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain. 

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength. 

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again. 

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink. 

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @boqvistsbabe​ @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice​ if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[obae-me]

Tail Wagging Wing Flapping Fun

This idea is thanks to @astaroth1357​ ! It’s a short guide on how to influence their demon forms to do something...embarrassingly cute. I write this fluff with no regrets. Enjoy. 

Sure, it might be a bit disconcerting at first getting used to the sight of humanoid creatures having unusual things like horns and wings and tails (oh my), but it comes with a benefit. While their words and demeanor might suggest otherwise, their demon forms might involuntarily reveal some of their hidden feelings--or not so hidden feelings. Your new mission, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out what sort of scenario sets off these uncontrollable actions. Let’s get some tails wagging and wings flapping, shall we?

Note: Difficulty ranges from 7 being the most difficult and 1 being the easiest.

Extra Note: Seems the brothers happened to come across this guide, hopefully they didn’t mess with it...

Lucifer

Difficulty: (7/7)

Hands down, this man is the hardest one to get a reaction out of seeing as he is always aware of how he is perceived, probably due to that prideful nature of his. Not to mention, he’s only ever in his demon form on rare occasions such as parties or political events. Or, most often, if he needs to use it for intimidation, and you’d rather not get a good look at his wings when he’s ready to obliterate someone or yourself for that matter. So, it goes without saying that this might take some planning or some timely good luck. Perhaps begging if you’re not above it. 

When to do it: Your best chance of success is to catch him when he’s either distracted, so sleep deprived he can’t even see straight, or just flat out drunk. If you choose the first option, chances are, once he’s back in his own head he’ll recall the event and make a mental note to never do it again. With the second, he’ll be at the point where he can no longer care as long as he can get his work done, but then there’s the more likely scenario where he’ll decide to kick you out entirely so he can focus. Lastly, if he’s drunk, not only will this be super effective, but he’ll cuddle you all night long. He might not even remember every embarrassing thing he did the following morning--which never happens, just for everyone’s information. Even in an intoxicated state, he’s in complete control with no embarrassing moments to speak of--Anyway, this is your best choice, but even then he only gets really drunk when he’s with Diavolo, not to mention refraining from coming home until the late...very late hours of the night when he knows no one will be awake to watch him stumble to his room. So, you’ll have to be diligent. Maybe take a nap. 

How to do it: You might think it would be praise, him being Pride and all, but Lucifer knows after so many years that words can often be hollow. Compliments and sugar-coated phrases are mostly used as a means of manipulation or getting something in return. Don’t get him wrong, he does like them, might even give you a slight smile and a pleased hum if you tell him how stunning he is, but he will know you probably expect something in exchange. So, for him, the best way to get his wings aflutter is to do something for him. Actions speak much louder than words and are much more precious to him, especially if you do so unprovoked. Make him some tea! Bring him food in bed! Dust his record collection! Sweep the floor in his study! The list can go on, it’s all up to you to decide what to do, but make sure he knows it's for him. He likes to be pampered--I mean, served. 

What happens: It will take him a moment to register. He’s not used to someone doing something for him so freely before. As a punishment, sure, but of your own volition? You did look expecting, no matter how hard you tried to hide it, but the only thing you were anticipating was his happiness and reaction, nothing else. The wings against his back have no choice but to twitch and shift, and he notices you eyeing them each time they move. As they fluttered, you beamed, and all he could do was roll his shoulders to try and keep the infernal things tucked against his back. The more you smiled, the more they were restless, feathers falling from their place as they twitched with emotion, threatening to wrap around you, to shield you, to envelop you, all like he was a hen protecting a baby chick. Depending on how weakened he is, or how much he cares for you, he might do more than just some shifting wings. He does his best to control himself, he really does, but the joy and warmth flooding his body from all his affection for you can make him do the unthinkable. His entire body will shutter, shaking and rattling him like a wet dog. His wings will jut out from his back, quivering in the air. When all is said and done, the black feathers coating his wings are extremely puffed up, a stunned and embarrassed expression hidden behind his new unruly and disheveled countenance. 

Mammon

Difficulty: (1/7)

If Lucifer is the hardest, Mammon rolls in as the easiest to get a reaction from. He’s very expressive in everything he does, and his demon form doesn’t change that. If it’s not gambling, he has no desire to keep himself under control, and he’s very much an ‘actions now, thinking later’ type of demon. In fact, when you’re around it nearly ends up worsening, he ends up being so flustered and distracted he’s usually unaware of the things he does or says, which gets him in a lot of trouble. However, because of this, it’s so easy to get him to do all the cute things you want. 

When to do it: Honestly, it does not matter. The only things required are himself and you in the same place, and the two of you are already basically attached at the hip. Truth be told, you don’t even need to be near him to get him sheepish, but that’s a secret he tries to keep to himself. You two could be alone in your bedroom, out for a walk in the garden, in Diavolo’s castle, even in the back parking lot of a cheap run-down restaurant. It is not important to him. As long as he has you, anywhere is a party. Public? Private? No matter. Either way his brothers will find out and tease him about it. Getting him in demon form isn’t an issue either. He’ll transform at the drop of a hat if you asked him too. 

How to do it: Much like Lucifer, the most obvious answer is incorrect. You can buy Mammon all the stuff in the world, but his Greed will still want more. Besides, that’s all anyone expects him to enjoy anyway. Everyone thinks just giving him money or gifts will make everything better, but he’s more complex than that! Well, it kinda does make him feel happier, but--oi, that’s not the point, we’re supposed to be gettin’ deep here!--What will really make him melt for you is compliments. This demon loves to be praised, because it doesn’t happen often. Why? Cus he’ll get a big head about it, but that’s Lucifer’s problem, not yours. Tell him how proud you are of him. Let him know how handsome he looks. Assure him you know he’s smart, and how much you look up to him. Tell him how grateful you are that he’s your ‘first’. It’ll get to him instantly and fuel his self esteem for weeks. 

What happens: The skin stretched over his wings will contract, causing his wings to fold into themselves only to burst open again. It’s this strange sort of flapping motion that reminds you of an umbrella opening and closing. Mammon won’t even notice, not until you gush over it. After that, he’ll be so flustered by his involuntary movements that he’ll try to chase his own wings, circling around on his feet while cursing. He’ll do his best to keep them hidden from you behind his back, but you can still hear the fluttering. Pretending like he didn’t hear you, he’ll attempt to get you to repeat what you said. This is your chance to take things to the second stage. If you bombard him with enough sweet words, he’ll have no choice but to bounce from foot to foot, shifting the weight on his feet as joy floods his body. The wings attached to his back will then waggle up and down, waving themselves in the air. You’ll be permitted to watch this for a while before realization dawns on him and he goes back to manhandling his blasted demon form. At one point he managed to grab one of them with his mouth and growled even. You have it on video. 

Levi

Difficulty: (2/7)

The second easiest. Just above Mammon in difficulty due to the fact that he’s in his room all the time and does his best to get himself out of humiliating situations. However, he’s truly an open book, and an emotional one at that, which is why he and Mammon tend to butt heads so often. They’re more alike than either of them will ever admit--w-which is not at all! How anyone could--could see similarities between Levi-chan and stupidmammon is ridiculous!--Similar or not, you could simply look in Levi’s direction and he would blush, and so of course when he’s in his demon form, there will be no hiding his emotions there either. 

When to do it: It will have to be in his room, it’s his safe space and so he’ll be more open to expressing himself when he’s in his sanctuary. There’s no real way around this. It will have to be a good day, so try to prepare by keeping his meddlesome brothers away. Keep an eye on how much internet they’re all using, and then try to monitor them so they’ll use less, making Levi’s loading times effortless. Let Levi know in advance that you want to hang out, that way he can get his mental state in check! This should be good enough to influence a happy tail-wagging Levi for when he permits you to enter his room. 

How to do it: Safety and comfort are the name of the game. Let him do whatever he wants and don’t make fun of him for it. It’s hard for him to be passionate about the things he truly enjoys without his brothers picking it apart or ruining it altogether. Let him speak. Be patient with him as he tries to string together a coherent plot with fragmented statements like “Oh, but there was also when-”, or “Oh, and how could I forget this happened! I’ll need to go back a bit!” If he ever says sorry, assure him there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t necessarily have to be interested in the things he likes, but if you listen to him and let him feel safe enough to be vulnerable, you’ll have him in the palm of your hand. 

What happens: It will happen the longer he rambles. His tail will start to slowly sway across the floor, the gentle sheer sound of smooth scales brushing across smooth tile. The more he feels safe around you, the more traction the tail will get, happily snaking back and forth as the glint of light off his scales reflect back on the ceiling. Of course, you can’t help but stare, which he notices. He’ll grab his tail in his arms, preventing it from moving as best as he could while being a mortified mess. Although you can still see the tip of it twitching, rattling, and quivering. If you comfort him in knowing you aren’t there to make fun of him, that you think it’s actually sweet and cute he feels that protected around you, he’ll let his tail drop to the floor. Only because his hands are now being used to cover his blushing face. The pounding in his chest is drowned out by the intense thumping of his tail against the floor. At one point you managed to pet it and could’ve sworn you saw Levi’s tongue dart out of his mouth, but Levi denies it ever happened. 

Satan

Difficulty: (6/7)

Right under Lucifer as the second most difficult to provoke a physical reaction from. He’s spent millennia doing his best to keep his wrath under control, so controlling other emotions is even easier for him. Although, he’s second in difficulty only because he doesn’t care as much for appearances as Lucifer does. I mean, if his attire is anything to prove--I mean, of course Satan is the bigger man in this aspect, truly. It’s foolish to be so caught up in how you look to other people. He’s not that vain, so if anything, he’s better than his brother. Your main worry is being able to see these emotions in his demon form. Demon form usually equals violence in Satan’s case. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. 

When to do it: Make sure it’s a day he’s calm, obviously. Ideally, you’ll both be in a quiet place like his room or the library. If you can, make sure it’s a day where there are no distractions and no noise, which in the House of Lamentation unfortunately only comes by once every century. So, if that means paying Mammon to go on a little shopping spree, making Asmo go with him since coincidently he’s run out of his favorite perfume that you totally didn't use for this excuse, informing Beel that there’s a special going on today of his favorite snacks, bribing Belphie to go along since he’s about to get the show of a lifetime, and then ‘accidently’ letting Lucifer know Mammon stole his credit card, well then, that’s what you’re going to have to do to get some peace (sorry Mammon). Just pulling that off alone will get you some extra brownie points with Satan. 

How to do it: Be inquisitive! Ask him about anything, and it’s likely he’ll know the answer. In fact, he’s almost amused when you treat it like a game, quizzing him about any obscure and specific topic and seeing what he knows of it. If there happens to be something the two of you are unsure of, he’ll find the book and you’ll both learn together. In return, he’ll have you talk about the human world, about cultures, about topics you’re interested in. Asking questions is your ticket into getting him into demon form as well. If you simply tell him you’re dying to get a closer look at demon features because you’re so fascinated, he’ll be inclined to transform for you. Satan encourages and rewards curiosity. Of course he knows your plan already, but all your efforts just because you were eager to note how his demon form would react? Well, he’s willing to give in just to observe your feedback as well. It’s also worth noting that bringing up Lucifer in the conversation will immediately ruin your plans. Satan wants to feel special, so give him your full attention!   

What happens: You had to first coax the tail he so often kept wrapped around his leg to come loose. Once it did, it enjoyed flicking itself back and forth every so often when he was amused, the end curling up and down when you said something particularly enjoyable. They were small simple gestures, but you wondered if you could draw out more. You threw out a sudden ‘psst psst psst’ like one might do to a cat. His tail shot up straight in the air before he glared at you, albeit with a slight smirk. With a new playful expression on his face, his tail whipped back and forth harder, sharper, convincing you that he might pounce were you not careful. Although, he still seems very aware of his movements, which defeated the purpose of the involuntary aspect. So, acting like there was something on his face, you stepped over. You struck by scratching the underside of his chin. His entire tail quivered, trembling, the bony skeleton-like structure of his tail rattled. Pushing you away, he’ll marvel at his own demon form which seemed to have a new mind of its own. It tucked itself between his legs for a few seconds after the initial embarrassment, then continued to shiver and shake anytime he looked at you. This is exactly why he keeps it wrapped around his leg in the first place. 

Asmo

Difficulty: (4/7) 

Amso is another expressive individual, in fact almost more so than Mammon. However, Asmo is a master of the body, and is absolutely aware of how he moves and acts in front of other people. Every movement he makes is completely intentional, it adds to his charm, to his popularity. Every eye flutter, every finger curl, it’s all purposeful. He can’t accidently slip up in his body language! Who do you think he is? He can’t afford to do anything embarrassing, it’ll ruin his reputation. However if you get him alone--not like that, this is a wholesome guide--he might not have to worry about his image so much. 

When to do it: This part isn’t hard, just tell him you want to spend time with him, in private. After thoroughly getting it across to him that, no, it’s not as dirty as he’s making it out to be, he’ll still be happy to squirrel you away for himself. His brothers are running you ragged, they’re such brutes. He’ll make sure to take good care of you...Sometimes you wonder if he can’t control the way his suggestions sound. Perhaps interest him in the idea of a self care day. He’ll be more than happy to paint your nails, style your hair, whatever you feel comfortable doing. You might have to continuously lead him away from the idea of letting him bathe you, but he truly just wants to treat you. However, the more you spend time alone together, the more he acts a bit more like himself. When he’s around you and not in the public eye, he can let himself relax a little, instead of always needing to live up to those social expectations. 

How to do it: This is the trickier part. As Asmo is the demon of lust and a certified social media star, he gets compliments daily, several gifts from potential lovers, and all the physical touch he could ever need. At a glance, he gets enough attention than any one person should ever need. However, he secretly craves quality time together, and no not like what you’re thinking--Unless you want it to be, and then he’ll happily oblige~-- He needs time to destress, to wind down, to spend time with someone who doesn’t care if he’s perfect all the time. Make him feel comfortable in his own skin, and I don’t care what he says, because there’s a hidden part of him that isn’t. So sit him down for a movie night, convince him to take off his makeup. Let him relax in his demon form since not only is it truly him, but you’ll need it for your plan. Brush his hair while he tells you about his day. Get him away from social media as best you can so he can “detox”, making sure it’s simply you and him. He doesn’t need Likes to be Asmo, he doesn’t need to be perfect to be worth it. 

What happens: He will act like he has no idea what you’re talking about for sure. Imperfections? He doesn’t know them. Truly he’s not so insecure as you think he is? Like Levi? Please...But your words have gotten through to him. The soft actions and...chaste time together that you’ve shown him throw him for a little loop. It’s like aftercare but...all the time with you. His wings can’t quite contract like Lucifer’s or Mammon’s, so they just bob up and down, flapping occasionally which messes up his hair. He looks on in confusion. Since when had he been so focused on you that he forgot how to present himself? It drives him insane, how embarrassing! And of course, the more you convince him he has nothing to be worried about, how it’s actually adorable, the more flustered he gets. You always knew how to compliment with no other motives. Instead of a wagging motion, his wings will move from side to side, hitting against each other. It sounds like light clapping. Asmo hates how his wings move like this, striking against each other when he’s pleased. He’s worked so hard on controlling it, and now he’s doing it in front of you. He’s immediately going to go hide, but it doesn’t prevent you from hearing the adorable sound of tapping. 

Beel

Difficulty: (3/7) 

The third easiest demon to get those special demon form movements from. He really cares for you, like a lot, and he’s the only one who isn’t afraid to say it and show it. In fact, the only reason why he isn’t ringing up at number one is due to the fact that he’s not overly flustered by his movements, he’s doing them on purpose to show you he cares, which is kinda what you’re going for here. Getting a reaction out of him without him being in full control is going to be a little bit harder, which is why he’s coming after Mammon and Levi. You want to catch him off guard, making him do things he wouldn’t normally do.

When to do it: You don’t have to try to sneak and lie and trick him into doing anything. He’s not worried about a ruined image or anything like that. Just make a day to spend time with Beel, tell him you’re bringing snacks, and tell him it would make you the happiest human in the Devildom to have him be in his demon form. That’s all you have to do, Beel loves your honesty, it lets him know you trust him and in return he trusts you. Super easy. 

How to do it: Bringing him food will definitely achieve putting a smile on his face and getting him in a better move, but it won’t bring out the soft side of him, and you want maximum softness. Beel is always taking care of his brothers, being the backup when Lucifer cannot, and just generally doing his best to keep the peace in the family. He’s the big strong bodyguard, the protector. So, to really throw him for a loop, to make him act beside himself, you’re going to protect this boy. Let him feel small even though it’s physically impossible with how large he is, especially in demon form. Let him be weak and vulnerable and safe in your arms even if they’re half the size of Beel’s. Give him snacks, make him sit on the floor and tilt his head back into your lap. You can try to have him sit in your lap-- Just be careful, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, seeing as how you’re so fragile…--He rarely ever drops his guard, so it’s a nice change of pace for him. Plus, he finds it absolutely adorable trying to be his protector, attempting to act three times your size. But he truly appreciates what you’re going for, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once. 

What happens: You’re able to hear the deep buzz of his wings as they flutter against his back. He frowns, immediately causing the noise to halt. He still doesn’t particularly care for these new ones compared to his older ones. However, the pleased look on your face along with glimmering eyes causes a touch of pink to grace his cheeks. Alright, he can’t deny you what you want. So he lets his wings do what they want. They vibrate intensely, a small whirlwind kicking up in your bedroom, the buzz turning into a deep hum. Your eyes go wide, at least until the intense winds almost knock you to your feet. Then the air stops and you’re wrapped up in his arms. You have to squirm out of his arms to prevent him from becoming the shield again. He’ll try to tell you that he’s not cute, so persuade him he is. Sometimes he wishes he had wings like Lucifer’s so he could wrap you up in them, but he supposes his arms will have to suffice. Every so often now, he lets his wings buzz for you, grateful you accept him for who he is. Unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, he always goes back to being the one protecting you. Although, every so often now he’ll come to you to feel safe. 

Belphie

Difficulty: (5/7) 

The demon of sloth is far too lazy to even walk most of the time much less moving his tail. A lot of times, when he is in his demon form, it ends up dragging itself across the floor. Not to mention he’s got a nearly indestructible emotion wall built up around him in the form of apathy and a bit of bratiness. Getting him to become so physically and emotionally moved by you to lose control of himself is going to take some work. 

When to do it: He’s asleep during the day mostly, so if you attempt to do it during normal hours, you’ll need to have a crazy amount of luck. So, it’s suggested you approach this demon at night, very late at night. So late, you know you’ll have regrets in the morning, or hopefully no regrets if you manage to pull this off. It will have to be past curfew, because if there’s anything Belphie loves more than sleeping, it’s opposing Lucifer. Get him alone where the sky is full of stars and the house is plunged into slumber. 

How to do it: Let him feel validated. Of course, there’s a lot of...grey area around him for some things, but in the here and now, just listen to what he has to say. He has seven older siblings, it’s easy for his voice to get lost in the clamor. Maybe if someone had just listened to his woes before taking action, things wouldn’t have gone the way they did. And, he did spend a lot of time alone, where he wasted countless nights hoping someone would just talk to him. So he appreciates how you can sit there, staying quiet--which nearly every one of his dumb brothers seems to be incapable of except his twin--letting him be heard. Who knows, if you feel vulnerable enough to share some of your deeper problems, he’ll find a newfound respect for you. There’s something about being able to relate to someone, to be able to spend hours just going back and forth where each party just makes them feel accepted. Of course, he’ll act like it’s no big deal, that this isn’t special, that this means nothing to him. 

What happens: It’s slow, like almost everything about him. But, you can see his tail lift itself up off the ground, the end curling. It likes to slowly sway, the furry end gently dangling back and forth in a soothing motion, like it was being blown by the wind. That’s all you can really get out of him, since anything more would be too much effort. It’s very subtle, but you notice every detail. Like most things about him, it makes you sleepy somehow, the placid rocking motion. It takes a very long time till he realizes what he’s done. Then his tail will hit the ground with a faint thud. If you ignore it long enough, out of the corner of your eye, you’ll watch it drift back and forth against the ground, a barely noticeable pink hue to Belphie’s cheeks. The more you look away, the more it’ll curl around to where you’re sitting, making the demon of sloth blink, attempting to tug his tail back away from you. It’ll crawl back, moving so slowly you can’t notice the changes anymore, but he does, and he can’t tell why it keeps trying to protect you from behind. Oh well. Best to not think about it. Right? 

[iam93percentstardust]

Hello. I am very interested with WinterIron. Enemies to Lovers, abo with omega Tony, accidental bonding, mutual pining, a lot and a loooootttttt of kissing and touching (with "I do it because of bond" excuses).

Please feel free to cross anything you feel uncomfortable with.

Hi there! I wasn't able to get everything in there, but hopefully there's enough? I loved this prompt so much, it was a fun verse to write in 💙

CW for omegas having few rights in this verse and for creepy Aldrich Killian

As always, everything I write can also be found on ao3

~

mate bond: [meyt bond] noun

1. A mental and physical connection that ties two people together following a mating bite

2. A pair bond between spouses

~

[An excerpt from The Other Half of My Soul: An Exploration into Unconventional Bonding Methods by Anderson-Lopez et al, 1972]

“While rare, it is important to note the existence of mate bonds in individuals who have not exchanged bites. These instances have notably occurred during times of high stress for one or both individuals, and are sparked by an inciting incident of some kind, usually a traumatic event. While these types of mate bonds, dubbed soulmate bonds by the media, frequently occur between individuals who are highly compatible, it is not necessary. Curiously, however, it does seem necessary that the individuals are scent matched for a soulmate bond, even though compatible second genders are not a requirement.”

~

Bucky maintained that it was an accident.

Tony had been meant for Steve, after all. That was the arrangement Howard Stark had decided on with Fury. Bucky had only come along as moral support for the first meeting between Steve and Tony. He wasn’t even supposed to meet Tony first, but the crowded ballroom had been too much for him, so he’d ducked out into the hallway, only to come across two alphas menacing an omega. He supposed that some of Steve’s fiery nature must have rubbed off on him, as he normally would have never taken on two alphas by himself, not when he was down an arm. But he’d taken one look at that omega, pretty brown eyes wide with distress, and leapt into action. It hadn’t been until both alphas had been sent off running with their tails between their legs that he’d realized the omega he’d rescued was Tony Stark, Steve’s arranged mate.

Unfortunately (fortunately? No, definitely unfortunately), the arranged match would never come to fruition as Bucky and Tony had looked at each other and immediately bonded without a shared word or bite between them.

Howard was furious, Fury less so—Bucky was still a SHIELD agent, even if he wasn’t the great Captain America, so the planned union between SHIELD and SI would still happen—but both Bucky and Tony insisted that it hadn’t been done on purpose. And, as neither had a mating bite but could still feel the other at the back of their mind, it was hard to disprove the existence of what had once been called a soulmate bond, though was now called the rather unglamorous name of Mate Bond Subtype C, which Bucky thought sounded like an illness.

The media thought it was the most romantic thing they’d ever heard. Steve, who was slowly courting another alpha from SHIELD, thought it was a relief. Bucky, who didn’t want an omega while he was still recovering from the surgery on his arm, thought it was a nightmare at first.

He didn’t know what Tony thought.

They might have shared a bond between them, but Tony had quickly figured out how to shield his feelings. It had taken Bucky a little bit more practice but he too had worked out how to keep his thoughts and feelings private, which was good, because he doubted Tony would like to know what he was thinking.

They’d been bonded for three months and, while Bucky had moved into Tony’s penthouse apartment, they didn’t share a room, let alone a bed. He still took long missions that took him away for weeks at a time. Tony spent more time at SI’s research labs than he did at home. Bucky hadn’t shared Tony’s heat, nor had Tony shared Bucky’s rut, though neither of them had invited anyone else into their beds. And other than their planned public outings where they had to touch to put on the façade of a happily bonded couple, they didn’t hold hands or kiss or lean into each other, giggling.

The problem was—Bucky wanted all of that. He wanted to sleep curled around Tony. He wanted the two of them to be home long enough to share more than one dinner together at a time. He desperately wanted to share cycles, but even more badly than that, he wanted to touch Tony as often as the omega could stand it. Because the problem was also this—sometime in the course of three months, he’d fallen in love.

~

Tony slid his hand into Bucky’s as they stood in the elevator. “It’s just a quick walk around the ballroom, say hi to a couple investors, and then we can leave,” he said reassuringly, giving Bucky a quick smile. “I know how much you hate these shindigs.”

This was true, Bucky did hate them, but he knew that Tony hated them just as much, though he hid it much better than Bucky did. “Don’t worry,” he replied, squeezing Tony’s hand quickly. “I’ll stick to you like glue.”

“Well, maybe not like glue. Like Velcro, maybe. Howard’s got a couple investors that I know he wants me to meet and that I know you’ll hate so you’re more than welcome to go off and find people more to your liking then. I heard Steve’s coming.”

Bucky had to fight to hide a frown. He knew Tony didn’t mean any harm by the comment, but he hated how Tony thought he wouldn’t want to be by his side even when meeting people he didn’t like. So what if he didn’t like them? He’d still prefer to be giving Tony silent support instead of wandering off and leaving him alone for that long.

Before he can respond, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening on a soft ding to reveal the glittering ballroom Maria Stark had chosen to host the Annual Stark Foundation’s Shareholders’ Ball, meant to honor those who had given so generously to charity over the last year. The room was decorated in delicate ice-like structures, calling to mind the snow blanketing the city outside, though it wasn’t nearly as cold inside. Golden chandeliers reflected off the dark windows, giving the impression of a never-ending stretch of light. It was all so very glitzy and glamorous. Bucky hated it. It was an obscene display of wealth, meant solely to remind everyone that the Starks were richer than anyone else in the room.

“One hour, Bucky Bear,” Tony murmured like he could hear Bucky’s thoughts. “And then we can go get burgers.”

He dropped Bucky’s hand in favor of sliding his own into the crook of Bucky’s elbow, gently steering him towards the first group of investors. Like every other rich person he’d met since bonding with Tony, they were simultaneously smug of their own “generosity” (mere pennies compared to their bank accounts) and jealous, both of Tony’s wealth and Bucky’s luck in landing a Stark (not his words). The smugness was blatant, the jealousy only slightly hidden in the way their eyes lingered as Bucky took the opportunity to brush his lips across Tony’s cheek, quietly telling him he was going to go get them drinks.

“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me,” he promised, understanding the minute tightness at the corners of Tony’s eyes.

Tony smiled and nodded, attention already turning back to the investors—or, more likely, to his latest project, however much it might have looked like he was paying attention to Hugh Worthington IV. Bucky slipped through the crowd to the bar. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded yet and he was able to order a whiskey for himself and a scotch for Tony, who always refused to drink the fruity drinks he actually preferred at these parties, almost immediately. As he waited, he turned back to the crowd, idly scanning it. Steve wasn’t there yet, if it was indeed true that Fury had managed to stuff him into a suit and send him off to schmooze. His eyes sought out Tony, who was laughing as he excused himself from the group Bucky had left him with, moving on to another small throng of people.

He smiled despite himself. Tony was lovely like this, despite his discomfort. Bucky got to see him laugh so rarely at home that he cherished every moment he got to see it while they were out in public.

“Sir, your drinks,” the bartender prompted. He thanked them absently and left a tip on the bar before making his way back across the ballroom to Tony’s side.

Tony wasn’t laughing now. In fact, if his pursed lips were anything to go off of, he was pretty furious, and Bucky wondered what had upset him between him leaving the bar and him returning to Tony’s side.

“Doll,” he said, letting Tony know he was there. Tony turned and took his drink, thanking him with a quick kiss that Bucky desperately wanted to turn into a longer, sweeter one.

“Honey, Senator Stern here was just telling me about an omega’s rights bill he filibustered so it wouldn’t pass,” Tony said, irritation bleeding into his tone.

“Now isn’t that interesting,” Bucky drawled, irritated himself. The bill in question was a law that he knew Tony had backed, as it would have put a stop to the arranged bondings the wealthy were so fond of. They’d both known it would be a longshot to pass, but they’d remained hopeful. “That’s the one that Stevie supported isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “My alpha here—” He patted Bucky’s chest. “—is close friends with Captain Rogers. They grew up together, you know. Steve spends nearly every Saturday evening with us. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear about this bill failing to pass. Isn’t he supposed to be putting in an appearance at the Senate hearing next week? It would be such a shame if he couldn’t make it.”

Tony’s statement was only partially true. Bucky mostly saw Steve at SHIELD, as Steve, despite being always welcome at their apartment, didn’t want to be reminded of how close he’d come to an arranged bonding of his own. But Steve, who had been an omega before receiving the serum, had always been an outspoken supporter of omega’s rights, and now that he was an alpha, and Captain America to boot, he used every bit of that privilege to push as much pro-omega legislature through Congress as he could. He was a thorn in conservative senators’ sides, like Stern, and it was a minor miracle that they’d gotten him to appear in front of Congress to talk positively about a Republican bill supporting an expansion of benefits for veterans, when he normally disagreed with anything Republican just on principle. Steve’s support would go a long way toward getting that bill passed.

Tony’s veiled threat was effective. Stern, one of the authors of the bill, blanched, making Bucky smile. He loved watching Tony do his thing. There was really nothing better than Tony putting bullies like Stern back in their place.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stern stammered out before hurrying away.

As soon as he was gone, Tony drooped, leaning back against Bucky. It was nice, being able to lend his support to his omega, but Tony was standing up straight again after only a moment, the façade falling back over him.

“I really hate that guy,” Tony said softly. He looked up at Bucky. “Sorry about using your friendship with Steve like that. I was just so angry. Saw red for a second there.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said. Impulsively, he reached out to clasp Tony’s shoulder, running his thumb soothingly over the soft skin just above his shirt collar. “You guys got a bad lot in life. You do what you gotta do to make it right.”

Tony hummed. “I really wanted that bill to pass. It wasn’t right, what Howard and Fury wanted me to do. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.”

“Sorry,” Bucky offered up. It was a lame apology, but he didn’t know what else he could say to make it better. He knew very well that if he and Tony hadn’t bonded that night, Steve would be Tony’s alpha.

To his surprise, Tony smiled and nudged his shoulder, teasing, “I don’t know, you’re not so bad.”

Bucky sputtered, nearly choking on his whiskey.

“Oh, look, Steve’s just arrived,” Tony said airily, like he hadn’t noticed the effect his words were having on Bucky. “Let’s go say hi.”

Talking to Steve at these events was always awkward. Tony and Steve were both aware that neither of them wanted anything to do with each other as mates, which made having to see each other a study in unspoken tension. He didn’t think it was that either of them had a problem with the other, and he suspected that they could even manage to be friends eventually, but it was that knowledge that they’d nearly been forced to mate that made things so tense between them. Still, he appreciated that Tony was willing to put up with it so that Bucky could see his best friend. It was the sort of small kindness that Tony unthinkingly did that had made Bucky fall in love with him so easily.

Tonight was no different. Tony and Steve exchanged no more than a few awkward words before Tony excused himself to go meet with Emma Frost. He didn’t bother kissing Bucky this time, as Steve was one of the few people they didn’t have to pretend with and it didn’t seem like anyone was watching them at the moment. It would have been different if they’d met up a few months ago. There’d been more than a few people who’d somehow got it into their heads that Steve and Tony’s proposed bond was a love match instead of arranged, and they’d all watched eagerly to see how Steve, Tony, and Bucky interacted in those days following Bucky and Tony’s bonding, clearly wondering if Steve was going to pick a fight. They’d been sorely disappointed, of course; Steve and Bucky didn’t fight over anything, let alone an omega that Steve hadn’t wanted.

“So Fury roped you into the dog and pony show, huh,” Bucky asked, eyeing the stiff collar of Steve’s shirt. He’d be willing to bet that it was brand new. Steve was much more at home in a pair of khakis and a flannel shirt than he was in a tuxedo.

“Senator Brandt actually,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “He thinks it’s good for me to make appearances and drum up support for SHIELD.”

“Sucks.” There was a niggling worry growing at the back of his mind, unrelated to Steve’s complaints about the brass, but Bucky didn’t know what it was. He glanced around the room, but was unable to spot anything amiss. He tried to put it out of his mind by asking, “How’s working with the Commandos?” He couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky had been moved out of the Commandos unit a few weeks before meeting Tony, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like being on Strike Team Delta, but he was still irritated that he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

“Not the same without you,” Steve said, grimacing at him like he knew what was going through Bucky’s mind.

They continued talking about SHIELD as they slowly circulated the room and all the while, that worry was growing stronger, slowly morphing into fear, but it wasn’t until he happened to catch a glimpse of Tony standing in the corner and looking tense and unhappy that he realized they weren’t his feelings. They were Tony’s. Tony was worried and scared and had brought down his shields so that Bucky could feel his emotions and Bucky was standing on the other side of the room like an idiot.

“Excuse me,” he said brusquely, cutting Steve off. “Tony’s in trouble.”

He headed straight for Tony, pushing through the crowd without sparing a thought to anyone he might be offending as he shoved them aside. For once, it was Steve who was trailing after him, offering apologies to everyone who looked offended.

There was a look of naked relief in Tony’s eyes as Bucky marched up behind the alpha Tony was talking to. It was a look he’d never seen on Tony’s face before, at least not directed at him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that his omega was happy to have him there or disliked that Tony had to be relieved at all.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asked, hand clamping down on the alpha’s shoulder.

“Bucky,” Tony breathed. He sagged back against the wall. “This is Aldrich Killian. He’d like to propose—” Tony’s mouth twisted unhappily. “He’d like to propose an omega trade. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he insisted on talking to you.”

Anger flared in Bucky’s chest, hot and furious. Omega trades weren’t common anymore, used mostly in backroom deals to secure a transaction. You treat my omega right and I’ll treat your omega right, and maybe we can have a deal. He knew the rich, traditional alphas Tony had grown up with still occasionally used them, but he hated them. He’d always hated them. The very concept treated omegas like property, like hostages, and the thought of seeing Tony—his Tony—under someone else had his vision shading red.

“Is that so?” he hissed.

Killian, the idiot, didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s growing anger. “Maya’s a great—” he began to say.

Bucky cut him off with a hand around his throat, slamming him into the wall.

“Bucky—” Steve started, a warning in his voice.

“Tell them it’s SHIELD business,” he snapped. “Isn’t that the usual excuse?”

What Steve did to placate the crowd growing around them, he didn’t know; he was too intent on Killian to care. “Let me get this straight,” he growled. “You asked Tony for a trade and when he told you no, because I know him, he wouldn’t ever want that and he wouldn’t be quiet about it, you cornered him and insisted you’d only listen to a no from me.” It wasn’t a question. Tony’s thoughts and emotions were flooding him with what Killian had tried to do to him. He growled again at the image of Killian’s hand on Tony’s arm, removed after only a moment. This—this—alpha had tried to put his hands on Tony, had ignored his clear no, and was still babbling on about whatever business deal he wanted out of Bucky—or, more likely, Tony, though as an omega, Tony wouldn’t be able to make that decision.

“It’s a yes or no question, Killian,” he finally snapped, losing his temper. “Did you or did you not ignore Tony’s answer—"

“He’s an omega,” Killian tried.

“He’s a person. He’s a person who was clearly uncomfortable with you and you should never have ignored that. The only reason you’re still standing and not laid out on the floor is because he cares about making a scene, but guess what, I don’t.” His hand tightened on Killian’s throat, making the man wheeze. “Do—”

“Bucky,” Tony said quietly, cutting through his anger.

Without removing his hand from Killian, he looked at Tony. Tony still looked a little shaken, but there was something else in his eyes, something that Bucky didn’t know how to describe.

“Let him go,” Tony continued. “You made your point.”

“He—”

“Yeah, he did,” Tony said, knowing what he was going to say. Bucky wondered if his own shields were down, letting Tony read his thoughts and feelings. “And you were here to stop it, so it’s okay. Let him go, we can go get burgers.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure Killian never laid hands on someone unwilling ever again, but then Steve was there, carefully pulling Bucky away as he muttered to him about seeing what Fury could do about Killian. And that wasn’t exactly what Bucky wanted, but it was better than nothing, and taking care of Tony was his priority anyway. So since Tony wanted burgers, he would go get burgers.

He spun on his heels, intent on heading to the elevators, only to freezes as soon as he saw Tony. They were supposed to be faking it, which meant that he should do something—wrap an arm around Tony’s waist or kiss his forehead or—or something. But Tony had just had to deal with an unwelcome touch. He shouldn’t have to deal with another one so soon afterwards.

Tony surprised him though by stepping forward and sliding his hand into Bucky’s, interlacing their fingers. “Come on, alpha. Let’s go home,” he said, leading Bucky through the crowd watching them. Bucky ignored them in favor of drinking in the sight of Tony whole and healthy, if not happy.

They were quiet in the elevator ride back down to the parking garage, quiet as they climbed into the back of the car, quiet as Happy pulled out onto the road. Then Tony slid across the backseat to tuck up against Bucky’s side. He rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and, after a moment, Bucky rested his cheek against Tony’s curls.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Tony said. Bucky could feel the truth in his words through their bond, and he realized that Tony hadn’t put his mental shields back up. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I hadn’t been expecting something like that.”

“Shouldn’t have taken it so far though. I know you’re not—we’re not—” He grimaced as he fumbled over the words. He’d been able to admit for three months that he and Tony weren’t in a relationship, why was it so hard now?

Tony hesitated before carefully saying, “We could be.”

“We—what?”

“Bucky Bear,” Tony said warmly, sitting up so he could look him in the eyes. “You have to know—people don’t just do what you did tonight or the night we met, for that matter. Not for me. I—I don’t know, the way we bonded, it threw me off. I wasn’t expecting it and I reacted badly. But—then the way you reacted to Killian got me thinking—maybe we could try?”

“Try?” Bucky whispered.

“Try us?” Tony asked, leaning back in slowly, giving Bucky enough time to move away if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We could try. I—I’d like that.”

Tony smiled at him, bright and lovely, and closed the distance between them.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 2

Heya @pocketramblr. I have no self-control.

.

Izuku expected his anxiety to subside, one way or another, once the exam was over.

As always, the universe set out to prove him wrong.

Home was more or less okay. But, for some reason, minor household repair issues started to bother him so much he spent the rest of weekend working on them

Then there was school, which was even more hellish than usual, despite being exactly the same as it had been since the sludge incident. Izuku was way too aware of how much of a threat everyone there was to him, specifically. Especially the teachers.

His hypervigilante state did keep him from getting poked (smacked) quite so much by the teachers, or cornered by 'fellow' students quite as much as usual, but it also led him to hide in the library storage room. He'd never be able to look at the librarian the same way again. Not knowing she kept multiple copies of books by anti-quirkless hate groups on hand.

And all through the week, he got nothing but silence from All Might.

But the end of the week came, and with it a letter from UA, which told him-

.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, FIRST PLACE?"

.

"I don't know, Nana, Banjo makes a good point."

"Don't take his side just because he was your predecessor. You all know a One for All holder would never resort to such devious- Yoichi, why are you making that face?"

"In an unjust world, bribery can be a tool for justice. I'm sure Eighth didn't have to, though."

"That's it, I'm not talking to any of you anymore."

.

"Anyway," said All Might, wiping blood from his mouth and glancing nervously at the other beachgoers. "Congratulations, young Midoriya."

Izuku felt his lip wobble. "You're not mad that I couldn't use One for All?"

"Not at all! Actually, in some ways this might be better. We'll have some time to experiment privately. And if you're in school when it finally turns on... well, we'll just say you're a late bloomer, alright?"

"Okay," sniffed Izuku, rubbing his eyes. "I just... I couldn't use it. What if-"

"Hey, hey, it's alright, my boy. No need to cry. You passed the entrance exam without using a quirk at all! You should be proud. Even with a quirk, it's an incredible accomplishment. Also, just so you know, I had nothing to do with the selection process. Just in case you were worried about favoritism."

Izuku sniffed and nodded.

.

"What a strangely specific denial."

"Uh, Banjo, usually I'd be reveling in the chaos, but I think Nana is seriously considering ghost murder right now. Maybe you shouldn't insult her kid anymore?"

"You and Hikage would protect me, right?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd sell you to Satan for one corn chip."

"So would I; it's been way too long since I've eaten. As long as it is Satan and not All for One, you've got my blessing."

.

"You certainly proved this old man wrong."

"You aren't old," protested Izuku.

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that," said All Might. "Here, sit down with me," he said, settling on the sand.

Izuku hurried to follow suit, and for a while, they both just watched the ocean. It was nice, today.

"I owe you an apology, young Midoriya."

"H-huh?"

"For what I said on that roof," said All Might, "and for what I... implied later."

"You already apologized for the roof, though?" said Izuku, confused. "I mean, that day..."

"That's what I'm talking about," said All Might. "I shouldn't have- The way I apologized, when I offered you One for All... It was like saying that you couldn't do it without a quirk, that you needed a quirk to 'fix' yourself and... well, obviously I was wrong. Quirk or not, you're going to be an amazing hero."

.

"Oh," said Banjo, "I can already tell this is going to be a problem once he finds out about Danger Sense. Gonna blow a hole right through his confidence."

"Maybe he won't find out?" suggested Nana, who'd wrestled her murderous impulses into submission. Temporarily. "Danger Sense is pretty low key."

"I feel like I should be offended..." said Hikage. "But if I got offended, that would be offensive to people who don't have quirks..."

"I don't know," said En. "If someone insulted your legs by saying they were so skinny it was like they weren't even there, would you being offended be offensive to people who don't have legs? Or would the original statement be the offensive one?"

"Somehow, I feel more offended after that."

.

"Oh," said Izuku. He felt himself crying again. "Are you, um. You're not going to- Are you- Do you want it back?" he whispered. "One for All?"

"No, no, of course not. You... There's no one I'd rather have it. I'm just... even if you didn't, you could be a hero. But I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll keep it."

Izuku swallowed and nodded. All Might awkwardly raised his arm.

"Do you mind if I...?"

"Sure?" said Izuku, not entirely sure what he was asking.

All Might put his arm around Izuku and gave him a sort of sideways hug. Izuku leaned into it. It was the safest he'd felt since the entrance exam.

Because, surprise, surprise, that anxiety hadn't gone away.

"What did you say?"

"Oh! Uh... it isn't important, it's nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing," said All Might, concerned.

"I, well, I, ever since the entrance exam... maybe even a little bit before? I've been really... jumpy? About everything. I think it's just because I'm a wreck, but..."

"Huh. Well, you know, that could be a facet of One for All."

"R-really?"

"After I got One for All, it seemed like it was easier for me to tell when people were in danger and needed help," said All Might. "S- A friend who knew about One for All used to joke it was my original quirk. But it was subtle and intermittent, not constant."

"Huh," said Izuku. "So... it might have been One for All all along? Trying to get me to help people?" He picked at his lower lip. "Maybe... I noticed a bunch of stuff I usually don't... I'm not sure I would have seen all the people in trouble during the exam."

.

"So much for not noticing-"

"His confidence... let him have it for at least a little while..."

"He seems to be taking it alright," said Yoichi, hopefully.

.

"I'm sure you would have helped them if you did notice, regardless," said All Might, "and that's what was really being measured, so my earlier point still stands."

Izuku nodded. "It would be really strange for a quirk to have two completely different applications like that."

"Yes, but One for All is a rather strange quirk, and I've seen odder split quirks." He fell silent for a moment. "I can't think of a way to test for it, though. Speaking of which, we should find some time to try and work on One for All before the school year starts. How do you feel about coming to UA after school?"

.

"Th-thank you for helping us with this, Recovery Girl!"

"It's no trouble, dear," said Recovery Girl. "I'd be here at this time, anyway. You wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork I have to go through. Just try not to break too many bones."

Izuku nodded vigorously, still somewhat in awe of being in the presence of not one but two incredible pro heroes. And at UA.

It was like living in a dream.

Except for the highly suspicious mostly-hidden wall panels and the very intense feeling of being watched through camera by an incredibly threatening being. It was fine.

"Alright, young Midoriya! Are you ready?"

"Y-yeah!"

"Then come at me, you zygote!"

.

Nana stared at her (former) student in despair. "Toshi... why... out of all the people..."

"So, you admit he can make bad decisions-"

"Bad and immoral are two different things."

"I think calling people zygotes is pretty immoral, actually..."

Silently, Nana agreed.

.

Izuku blinked at All Might- not because of the zygote thing!

... Okay, partially because of the zygote thing.

But mostly because he was still in his skinny, prone-to-coughing-up-blood form.

"Are you sure?" Izuku asked. "What if I..." he trailed off, blushing. What he was about to say sounded so stupid, and more than a little conceited, but...

"Hey, even like this, I'm much tougher than I look, young Midori- Ahem, I mean, zygote!"

"Toshinori, don't you think role-playing as Gran Torino is a little much?" asked Recovery Girl.

"Ah, do you think so?"

Recovery Girl shot All Might a truly terrifying look, but Izuku's mind was on something completely different.

"Is- is Toshinori your name?" he asked, awed.

Blood drained out of All Might's face, making him look more skeletal than usual. Should Izuku not have asked? Was it supposed to be secret? Oh no...

"Please tell me you haven't been training this boy for most of a year without him even knowing your name."

"Oops?" said All Might, faintly.

.

"He did do that, didn't he?" asked Yoichi, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. "Nana, your boy is a disaster."

"All of us were disasters. We're still disasters."

"I'm not."

"Hikage, you spent most of your adult life living in the woods, completely isolated from humanity."

"I know, it was great."

"Unbelievable."

.

"Back to what we were talking about before," said Mr. Yagi (Mr. Yagi! Izuku knew All Might's name! And had permission to use it!) after Recovery Girl was done scolding him. "Focus on actually hitting me before worrying about accidentally hurting me. Today, I just want to get a baseline. Next time, we can work on basic punches and throws."

"So, do I just-?"

"Yep, just come right at me!"

.

The next hour consisted mainly of Izuku being thrown bodily into various padded surfaces. Despits this, according to Mr. Yagi, he was much better at dodging than expected. As a bonus, although he certainly felt sore and bruised, he didn't break any bones.

He also didn't manage to activate One for All. Not even a little bit.

Nor did he on any of the other days leading up to his first day as a student at UA.

.

Aizawa Shouta, down two nights of sleep and dreading the new batch of bright eyed hero hopefuls he'd be teaching- and crushing the dreams of- next week, glared blearily at a computer screen. Currently, it displayed a student's name, a quirk name, and the single least helpful quirk description he'd ever seen. Which was saying something, because he'd seen Hizashi's original quirk description.

Midoriya Izuku

Quirk: undetermined

Description: None.

I am either too tired or too sober to deal with this, decided Shouta. However, sleep simply wasn't on the table, and getting drunk was illogical. In that case, simply not dealing with it was the only option.

Nevertheless, he picked up his phone and called Nezu.

"Good evening, Aizawa!" said the internally chipper maybe-rodent. "Or should I say good morning?"

"Midoriya Izuku."

"Ah, you're browsing your class list, I see. Any thoughts about their potential?"

"Illogical." It would be, to make a call about a student's potential without meeting them first.

"Quite so!"

"Midoriya. Quirk," grunted Shouta, reminding him why he was calling.

"Ah, yes, he is a strange case. He's listed as quirkless in the registry."

That woke Shouta up, just a little. He'd seen a handful of documents for the quirkless over the years. If Midoriya was quirkless, his file should read N/A, not undetermined.

"What?"

"I have reason to believe that he might have been diagnosed in error," said Nezu. "I am still investigating. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you kept an eye on him. Assuming, of course, that he isn't expelled!"

Shouta grunted and hung up. He minimized the window on his computer and pawed through his files until he found the entrance exam video for Midoriya.

A kid who passed the UA hero course practical entrance exam either entirely quirkless or with a subtle, stubborn, or invisible quirk on rescue points alone. A kid who seemed to run straight for danger on purpose (mostly on purpose, Shouta amended after seeing him collide with the invisible girl, coincidentally pushing her out of the way of some sort of water pressure quirk. There was just no way he could have known she was there). A kid who had almost certainly faced brutal quirk harassment since the time he was four and most likely possessed the self-confidence and trauma to match.

"Least he's good at dodging..." muttered Shouta. He rubbed at one grainy-feeling eye and pulled his sleeping bag closer around his shoulders. Kid wasn't all that bad at falling, either. Some light martial arts instruction, maybe?

He paused the video and reopened Midoriya's file, flipping to school and admission records and exam results. He usually didn't look closely at this part of the file, it was enough for him that the students passed, but, exceptions...

Speaking of exceptions, Midoriya's file was a mass of contradictions. Unusually high written test score that didn't correspond with middle school grades. Dozens of citations and black marks on his disciplinary record that should have kept him from even being invited to take the exam, but a letter of recommendation from All Might.

He frowned at the last one. There was no way...

He shook his head, and clicked on the link at the bottom of the file. It brought him to a herotube video about a year old. A hostage situation with a vaguely familiar middle schooler and slime-like villain. Also, a bunch of heroes, but none of them seemed to be addressing the suffocating child. Shouta felt his lips curl. Even if this was in the past...

Then Midoriya Izuku ran into the frame and tried to pull the other boy free, just seconds before All Might arrived and punched the villain so hard it started to rain. Then the video ended.

Alright, then.

Shouta's admittedly currently-less-than-razor-sharp mind presented him with two possibilities. One, Midoriya was All Might's secret child and All Might had bribed Nezu into letting him take the exams despite his less-than-stellar records. Two, this child had, with bloody fingernails, managed to claw a single spark of luck out of an otherwise bleak existence by impressing All Might enough that he got Nezu to ignore the otherwise damning records.

If the first, well, he had still passed the practical without use of any obvious quirk. He probably had some potential.

If the second... Shouta had been a hero long enough to recognize the circumstances that drove people to desperate, and sometimes unforgivable, acts. Dangling a single hope in front of someone only to snatch it away at the last minute...

Forget the maybe-quirk. This was the real conundrum of Midoriya Izuku.

The rat knew he wouldn't expel Midoriya with these stakes. It would be the height of irrationality.

(Even if he did turn out to be All Might's kid.)

What a pain.

He flipped through a few more profiles, quickly reviewing 1-B as well, before hitting redial on his phone.

"Calling again so soon?" asked Nezu with a squeaky chuckle.

"I want Monoma." He paused. "In my class," he elaborated.

"Oh? Whatever for?"

"If I'm going to have to figure out Midoriya's mystery quirk, I want to make it as easy for myself as possible."

There was silence on the other end of the like, and Shouta checked to see whether or not he'd hung up accidentally. He hadn't.

"I must say," said Nezu, finally, "I had not considered that solution. Depending on the mechanics of Monoma's quirk... I cannot think of any reason to deny your request."

That was a strange way of phrasing it.

"We'll exchange him with Bakugo, in that case."

"Not that I'm complaining," said Shouta, "but why him? Why not..." He racked his memory. "Mineta. He's got one of those body part quirks Kan likes."

Nezu chuckled again. "Normally, I would pick Mineta, but, by my calculations, a classroom that contained both Monoma and Bakugo would be demolished within thirty minutes of their arrival."

Shouta groaned. Why did they even let people like that in?

No, wait, he had an answer to that, actually.

"Forget a mouse, a dog, or a bear," said Shouta. "You're a sadist."

"Some certainly think so! But one thing's for sure! I'm the principal!"

.

The door to class 1-A sure was big... and intimidating... and radiating a faint sense of malaise. But, then, Izuku's middle school classroom had done far worse, so...

He opened the door. No Kacchan. Thank goodness. He must be in the class B, then, because there was no way he'd let Izuku beat him to school.

The strict boy from the entrance exam was there, though, and, oh, dear, he'd noticed Izuku and was coming right for him.

(Oh, gosh, and the invisible girl was here, too. He felt himself blushing furiously.)

Still better than Kacchan.

"Hello!" he said, rather loudly. "I'm from Somei Private Academy! My name is Iida Tenya!"

"Oh, uh, I- I'm from Aldera Middle School..." said Izuku. Was stating the name of your middle school a normal thing? He hadn't read about this in any manga... "I'm Midoriya Izuku."

"Pleased to meet you!" He moved his arm in a rather robotic fashion, taking a deep breath.

Oh, no, was he about to yell at Izuku again?

.

"Danger Sense isn't even going off right now, Izuku," said Yoichi, despairingly. "Why are you still so nervous?"

"Maybe we never really gave him Danger Sense after all, and it was his natural anxiety the whole time."

"Please stop denigrating my quirk."

.

"Midoriya... you... you perceived the true nature of the practical exam. Meanwhile, I was blind! I misjudged you! I hate to admit it, but you were the superior candidate."

Oh, that was nice, but... "I didn't perceive anything, though. I had no idea rescue points were a thing. I was mostly just trying not to die."

"Ah! That curly hair! It's Midoriya!"

"Oh! Um, Uraraka?" Please, please, let him have remembered her name right.

"Yeah!" said Uraraka, smiling brightly.

Augh! Too cute!

"I'm so glad you're in my class! I was so worried I wouldn't know anyone here."

"Y-yeah. T-this is Iida, by the way," said Izuku, trying to get attention off of himself.

"Nice to meet you, Iida."

"It's nice to meet you as well, Uraraka!"

"Yeah! So, we've got the entrance ceremony and guidance sessions today, right? I wonder who our teacher will be- They're all supposed to be pro heroes, right?"

"Um," started Izuku, "that-"

"If you're here to socialize, then get out."

.

"That's a teacher, huh," said Yoichi.

"Why are you saying that like you've never seen one before?" asked Banjo.

"I've seen teachers before," said Yoichi. "I've seen all of your teachers. The ones you've had while you had One for All."

"Okay, now you're saying that like you've never had teachers."

"Yeah, that is kind of strange, Yoichi," said Nana.

"I had professors," said Yoichi.

"Still weird."

"I went to college. And med school."

"Did you graduate?" asked En, interested.

"No."

"Why not?"

"My brother kidnapped me, kept me in a vault for a while, and then I died."

"I didn't know what I expected," said En, shaking his head.

"Wait, weren't there several years between the vault and the whole dying thing."

"Yeah, but I'm ignoring them."

"Because?" Banjo hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Second and Third.

"Yep," said Yoichi.

.

"Todoroki. You were the highest scorer on the Recommendation Exam. See how far you can throw this ball with your quirk. Stay in the circle. Anything else goes."

A boy with white and red hair stepped forward, scowling faintly. He took the ball and stared at it.

"Time is valuable, Todoroki."

And then there was a glacier.

Izuku felt his jaw drop. How was he supposed to compete with that?

.

"My name is Monoma," said a blonde boy, offering his hand.

Izuku stared at it a moment before remembering handshakes were a thing.

"Midoriya," he said.

Monoma then offered his hand to Uraraka and Iida as well. "I look forward to experiencing UA's superior brand of education with you," he said.

Izuku laughed nervously. "You're confident," he said, glancing at the track where two others students were doing sprints. It would be their turn soon.

"But of course!" Monoma struck a sort of pose, fingers splayed out on his chest. "I welcome this sort of challenge, this opportunity to prove myself! It just goes to show, UA only accepts the best of the best!"

Monoma was called away to the starting line a moment later. "Two good, one dud," he mumbled under his breath.

What did that mean?

Then Monoma was at the starting line, and he was using Iida's quirk. Did he have a copy quirk? That was so cool!

... Is that what he meant by good and dud? Did he... did he see that Izuku didn't have a quirk? Oh, no... What if he told everyone? Even if people were being nice to him now...

"What's wrong?" asked Uraraka.

"U-um," said Izuku. "Nothing?"

.

"Oh, gosh," said Yoichi, crying. "I just want to wrap him up in a warm blanket. You deserve friends."

"Yeah, kid, it'll be okay," said Banjo. "Bakugo's just a freak. And so was your whole school. Place gave me MLA flashbacks."

"Sure glad they aren't around anymore," agreed En.

.

All in all... Izuku didn't do terribly. Especially given that he didn't actually have a quirk, and this was a quirk assessment. At least, he didn't think he did. At least, he hadn't tripped or hurt himself.

It had, in fact, been a rather good day. No Kacchan. No bullies. The teacher had clear standards and requirements, and he stated them up front.

He had been getting... bad vibes... from the short, purple-haired kid, and he'd noticed other people frowning at him, especially the girls. But he hadn't been able to put his finger on why, even though he had been watching him carefully during his turns.

Other than that...

UA really was the best.

"By the way, no one's getting expelled. It was a logical ruse."

Monoma raised his hand.

"What is it?"

"I must object!" said Monoma.

"You... want someone to be expelled?"

"In fact, I insist! To allow this to continue would blemish the reputation of the school."

"Well said, Monoma!" exclaimed Iida. "Living up to the reputation of UA and all the alumni who have come before us is a duty of us students! But what blemish are you talking about? Surely, as Mr. Aizawa said, we all went plus ultra!"

"Maybe so, but my concern has more to do with moral standards!"

"If you kids keep going like this, I'm just going to go to sleep. You're giving me a headache."

Izuku caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and a wave of unease went through him. He turned to see-

"Hey! What are you doing?" he demanded, shocked and more than a little horrified.

Once again, he was mortally embarrassed on behalf of the invisible girl.

"I wasn't doing anything!" said the small purple boy.

"You were looking up her skirt!"

"It isn't like there's anything to see!"

The invisible girl gasped and quickly moved away. "Gross!" she said. "That's terrible!"

"See? See?" said Monoma, wildly. "This is what I'm talking about!"

"Next time," said Aizawa, "get to the point faster. Time is valuable. Mineta."

"What?"

"You're expelled."

"What? You can't do that!"

"Go complain to Nezu."

UA really was the best.

"Midoriya."

Okay, never mind. He was doomed. Completely doomed.

"Monoma. I want to talk to you after class. The rest of you are dismissed."

Midoriya stood nervously as Uraraka and Iida bid him goodbye. Was this it? Was Aizawa going to expel him after all? At least it wasn't in front of absolutely everyone... But what was Monoma doing here?

Speaking of which, Monoma looked nervous, too... Was he okay? Surely, Aizawa wasn't going to expel him, too.

"Is this about me using other people's quirks?" demanded Monoma. "Because you said anything goes! I wasn't cheating. You can't expel me!"

Oh. There was some trauma there. Izuku could tell. Did people make fun of him for his quirk?

"I'm not going to expel you," said Aizawa, looking up at them from where he laid in his sleeping bag in the grass. He almost looked like he was praying for patience. "I need to ask you some questions about your quirk. For future reference and to better serve your needs as a student. I know how tricky meta quirks can be."

"Oh," said Monoma, slightly deflating. Then he sent a curious glance at Midoriya. "Is he-?"

"His matter is slightly more sensitive. If you would like me to send him away while we talk, I can do that."

"No, no, it's fine." Monoma sniffed, his eyes suspiciously wet. "What's the question?"

"You copy quirks through DNA contact. Do you decide when to activate passive quirks you copy, or can you choose?"

"I can choose, as long as it's within my time limit."

"When you first make contact, can you tell what quirk a person has?"

Monoma shook his head. "No, sir, I have to activate it to do that, so I can get duds- oh, that is to say, quirks I can't use because I don't have the proper activation conditions, like Midoriya's. He's got some kind of stockpile. I can get duds without realizing it. But I can tell whether or not someone has a quirk."

"Were you able to test all your classmates' quirks today?"

"Not everyone, yet," said Monoma. "I usually try to avoid more extreme mutation quirks outside of controlled conditions."

Aizawa's head bobbed up and down minutely. "Great. That should be enough for now. You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir! I look forward to seeing your superior lesson plans tomorrow!" He paused. "Midoriya."

"H-have a good day, Monoma."

Monoma had felt One for All! What a relief. Izuku had been half worried he'd lost it somehow.

But why did Aizawa want him?

"Um, sir?" he asked. Sort of asked. 'Sir' alone wasn't a question, even if it was said in an inquisitive tone.

Aizawa's eyes turned red, and his hair started floating. Izuku felt... Huh. Calmer, somehow? He was no longer vaguely aware of how the light post over there could fall on him, or any of the other many minor dangers surround him and oh, gosh, he was no longer aware of the dangers! How was he supposed to stay safe like this, when he felt like he'd been blindfolded?

Aizawa blinked. Everything came back.

"Wow," said Izuku. "That was so cool! Was that your quirk? Is it an emotional quirk? It made me feel calmer at first, but then I was, I don't know, too calm, and it made me anxious, but then-"

"Problem child," said Aizawa, and Izuku froze at the reprimand. "What I just did was erase your quirk."

Erase?

His quirk?

"Oh my gosh! You're Eraserhead! I'm a huge fan!"

Aizawa closed his eyes. Was he counting? No? Did he fall asleep?

"You do know you're listed as quirkless, right?"

"Yes?"

"But you just had a reaction to my quirk that a quirkless person definitely should not have."

"O-oh?"

"Combined with Monoma's ability to sense your quirk, I'd say you are not, in fact, quirkless."

"But I have the toe joint?" Izuku wasn't sure why he'd said that. He shouldn't be arguing against this, because, as Aizawa had said, he did have a quirk. It just wasn't exactly his.

"Yeah, that's an old wives' tale."

"Really?"

"As real as my quirk counselor license. Whoever diagnosed you was a quack."

"O-oh."

"My initial impression from your entrance exam video is that you might have a sensory quirk of some kind. On the other hand, we should take Monoma's assessment into account, and consider stockpiles. Either way, I would like to schedule some time to test things out with you."

"You- You'd do that? For me? I mean, I don't want to be a bother-"

"This is literally my job."

"It... yeah, I guess so." His previous teachers would have considered it a bother. Except Mr. Yagi, but Mr. Yagi wasn't really a teacher. He was more of a... a mentor.

(Or a dad.)

(Oh, no, he did not just think that. Bad. Bad brain. Bad brain that read too much All Might RPF as a pre-teen.)

"Besides, even if your quirk doesn't have many applications in hero work, it will be useful for you to know what it is and how it affects you." Aizawa yawned. "Also, don't tell your class that I'm Eraserhead."

"O-okay," said Izuku. "Of course, sir, but... why?"

"I have two full time jobs. I get my entertainment where I can. You can go now. We'll schedule tomorrow."

Izuku nodded, and Aizawa just... zipped his sleeping bag the rest of the way closed and rolled over.

Was... was he just going to go to sleep here? In the middle of the field.

"Um? Mr. Aizawa?"

A grunt came from the sleeping bag.

"This is... isn't this kind of a dangerous place to sleep?"

"Go home, problem child."

"... okay."

[sweetea-rosey]

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

.

.

.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

.

.

.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

.

.

.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

.

.

.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

[dewykth]

—CYBΞRSΞX (m)

pairing. jeon jungkook | female reader | park jimin genre & au's. smut, humor / camgirl!reader, camboy!pjm, rich boy!jjk word count. 10.213 warnings. please read ! multiple explicit sexual scenes, masturbation (f + m), porn, sexting, nudes, jk in a thong (bc yes), ice play, sex toys, face sitting, sub!jk, (soft) dom!reader, sub!jm, [18+] note. AHH it's finally here!! thank you to everyone who liked the teasers, i hope you'll enjoy this baby! this went thru a lot of editing, rewriting, and deleting, but i’m finally happy w it !! feedback is vv much appreciated <3!! note two. and yes, i did take the opportunity to write subby bts, bc i can, and we need more of it. thats it. sub jk rights! 

—shoutout to vira ( @periminkle​ ) for beta reading and making me laugh w her reactions <3 ily

[teaser #1] ♡ [teaser #2] ♡ [playlist]

synopsis. there are three rules you set for yourself when you signed up for cybersex.com. one, separate work from your personal life. two, do not get involved with any cyberboy, no matter how stupidly & unfairly gorgeous he is. and three, do not, under any circumstance, fall for a client. they're very simple, and very easy to follow. so why are you about to get in bed with park jimin, cyberboy extraordinaire, in order to spite a loyal client of yours?

 [ :: LOADING... my strange addiction :: ]

The hot pink log-in screen of cybersex.com is a sight Jungkook is embarrassingly familiar with. Frankly, he’s afraid to admit how many times he’s logged on this past week. It takes him no longer than a minute for him to input his account information, quickly searching for the sole reason he’s still on this site at all.

Jungkook glances at the time. He might still be able to catch a bit of your show tonight. Even if it were only for a few moments, it’d be enough for him until he actually got to talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully. 

Jungkook knows better than to think he could ever get enough though.

● LIVE!: sittin here undressed...

By Sweetheart666

83,938 viewing now

The screen goes black for a second before you appear, sitting on your bed with a pink pillow between your thighs. Jungkook sucks in a breath, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants. Your hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples and whining softly. Your sounds spur Jungkook further, his eyes glued to the completely fucked out expression on your face and (too soon) his dick is fully erect. He doesn't know how you're able to get him like this so quickly every time.

There's sensual music in the background, but Jungkook only focuses on the pretty sounds falling from your lips. Jungkook begins to palm himself through his sweats just as you tease your fingers over the band of the mesh shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination. Jungkook's skin is hot to the touch, and he can feel the sweat building on his forehead. 

“Oh? Do you guys want this off?”

Comments fill the screen quickly, all fervently voting in favor for removing the sheer white fabric. But this isn’t Jungkook’s first time, and he knows better than anyone you like for them to beg.

“Show me how bad you want me to take it off.”

v_steponmepls_ tipped 2,000 hearts!

secretly1ntoXhibitionism tipped 5,000 hearts!

bbybun14 tipped 1,600 hearts!

“Aww, is that all? Guess you don’t want it that much...”

Your fingers leave the band of your shorts, choosing to fiddle with the heart chain around your neck as you wait. Jungkook chuckles, knowing that the comments were all probably whining at your teasing. But as previously mentioned, Jungkook was a bit more experienced in your realm. His fingers dance on the keyboard of his computer.

nj_94 tipped 10,000 hearts!

Tiny red hearts fill Jungkook’s screen as he smirks, lying back against his headboard. He sees the way your eyes flash, before you’re smirking at the camera, as if you could see how desperate Jungkook was. 

“So needy, aren’t you, nj_94? Alright, I guess I can give you a little something then...”

Jungkook suddenly feels warmth on his face, and he realizes he’s fucking blushing at your attention. There was something about you acknowledging him in front of almost ninety-thousand people that made his chest swell with pride. He’s so fucking whipped, a thought that crosses his mind momentarily before his focus is back on you. When you finally remove your flimsy shorts, Jungkook moans loudly at the sight of your dripping core. Oh, how he wishes he could stuff his face in between your thighs. 

He pulls his sweatpants to his thighs, letting his dick spring free. Jungkook gathers his saliva, spitting into his hands before leisurely stroking his shaft. You play with your clit, moaning softly. He can see your juices dripping onto your mattress, leaving a mess. Jungkook briefly wonders how you would taste on his tongue. 

nj_94 tipped 15,000 hearts!

“Wow, straight to the point huh?”

When you slip two fingers into yourself and whine, Jungkook’s strokes begin to speed up. He moans, uncaring of the fact that it was past midnight. Jungkook is mesmerized by the sight of your small fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. Your moans begin to grow louder, and he can tell by the way your hips are grinding along your hands that you're getting closer to your release. Jungkook can feel his coming as well, his strokes becoming sloppier. 

“Fuck, I wish those were m-my hands instead of yours,” he mutters, lost in the way you’re making him feel. You moan louder, almost as if you could hear the words coming from Jungkook's mouth. It's impossible, but Jungkook lets his imagination wander. 

“You’d probably make me beg for it, w-wouldn’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly as you grind down on your hand. “I-i don’t m-mind, though,” Jungkook is sure he’s mumbling nonsense, yet he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s so close to his release. “I l-love begging for you.” His voice sounds echoey, but in his lust-ridden mind, he can’t make sense of anything else other than you, you, you. Jungkook watches through lidded eyes as your hips stutter. You thumb your clit a couple more times before a loud whine rips through you, and you're reaching your climax. 

Jungkook keeps his gaze on you, stroking himself a few more times until he too is spilling his seed all over his abs with a low groan. He’s left breathing harshly, lying on his back as he stares at the ceiling in a post-orgasmic haze. It takes a couple of minutes for Jungkook to fully recover before he looks at his computer screen again, realizing your live has abruptly ended. He sighs wistfully before closing his laptop shut.

Until tomorrow.

[ :: LOGGING IN... computer (almost, but not really) luv ::]

[ENDED]: feelin a bit bratty tonight?

By Sweetheart666 

106,729 viewers / 202,728 hearts

jacker82: sailor moon cosplay plssssss?

i_swallow_: feet?

James Miller Jr.: would love to take you to dinner some time!

_tittystan_: OH MY GODDD PLSS PUNCH ME IN THE FACE T-T

catdaddyXoX: ur so hawt yumm XD

Scrolling through the comments section and reading them out loud always made you giggle to yourself. They were either always some absurd comment or a simple compliment thrown your way. And you’d be lying if you said doing these videos didn’t make your confidence go up tenfold. During the past few months you’ve been a Cybergirl, you’ve been steadily growing a following. Your past three videos have done exceedingly well, but it was always your lives that got the most attention. 

It started as an easy way to get money to pay your bills. A lonely night in your apartment spent drinking cheap wine and crying about how pathetic you felt, because you couldn’t keep a job to save your life, led you to the hot pink sign up screen of Cybersex.com.  You told yourself it would be just for you to get yourself back on your feet, but as you began to post more and see the numbers in your bank account go to the triple digits, you grew a penchant for the website. 

All it took was a bit more effort into your videos for it to become your main source of income. You’ve grown much more comfortable around the camera than when you first started, and with that you've also been able to claim your place on the Hot200. It was undemanding work, for the most part. As expected, there was heavy competition between the cybergirls, which only worked to fuel your desire to chart. You had to come up with new and creative ideas for every video, and if you were being honest, you’d say you were pretty fucking good at what you do. And of course, there was no way for you to get fired.

To put it in simpler words, you loved being a cybergirl.

But, the best part, if you had to choose, were the personal clients. The ones who would pay an additional price in order to be able to talk to you directly, maybe even get a private show or pictures if they gave a bit more. You had yet to give a private show to anyone, which was pretty expensive depending on the popularity of the cybergirl.  Not that you were complaining, there were enough message requests to keep you pleased and your pockets full.

An alert appears on the corner of your screen, signaling the low battery of your computer. After plugging it in you opt to clean your cam set-up, putting away your toys and equipment. You check the time on your phone, noting that you had time to shower before your upcoming session. One that you had been waiting impatiently for all week. 

When you emerge from your bathroom, you pick up your phone again, scrolling through the messages until your eyes fall on one in particular. You look at the time. Punctual as always.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜᴇʏ ;)

Him.

Nj_94 was your most loyal client, but he only messaged you twice a week. It’d been almost four months since you first started talking to him and you’d be lying if you said his messages didn’t leave you feeling giddy inside. Granted, you’ve never met him, nor do you even know what he looks like, but it didn’t exactly matter to you. Getting to know him over the soft pink message threads of the Cybersex app, you've definitely grown a soft spot for him. There was something about his cute, albeit awkward, self that sometimes had your mind brewing up visions of him beneath you, quivering and begging and-

You digress.

Your back hits the soft silk sheets of your bed, deciding to make him wait a bit. If there was anything you loved more than your little sessions with nj_94, it was teasing him. 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜɪ…

There’s not a moment for you to put down your phone before there’s a chain of pings! echoing through the quietness of your bedroom.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜɪ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ?  

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ᴠᴇʀʏ.  

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ… 

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…

The text appears and reappears several times before his message finally graces your screen.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ... ᴍɪss ᴍᴇ?

Of course you did, but you’d never tell him that. You sit up on your headboard, playing with the frill of your shorts for a few moments before typing out your message.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴍᴍ... ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴜ?

On the other side of the screen lays Jungkook on his bed, eyes wide as he stares at your message. He knew you were going to ask him about it, but he didn’t think you’d do it right away. Of course he listened. And he enjoyed it an embarrassing amount, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone except you. Shaky fingers tap on the screen of his phone, typing out his response before he clicks the send button.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴀʙʏ?

His heart quickens when he reads the sentence. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call him pet names, but it usually meant he was in for the night. And probably on your good side.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ.  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ ᴄᴍᴏɴ ʙᴀʙʏ... ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɴᴏ ɪ 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ... ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ

A blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks almost immediately after he types out the message. No matter how many times he’s texted you the most indecent and lewd words, he’ll probably never be able to fight the shyness that accompanies it.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ… ᴀʀᴇ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪᴛ?

Jungkook glances down at his bare thighs, where the thin fabric wraps around his hips. He gulps.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟺.ᴊᴘɢ]

There’s a moment where your mouth hangs open, watering at the sight of his salacious thighs. But, the thin black lace barely covering his prominent bulge is what makes you squeeze your thighs together. If his texts weren’t enough to show how desperate he was for you, this unexpected picture definitely got the point across. God, he was such a—

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.]sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜ ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

Jungkook's heart throbs, or is that his dick? Either way, it's almost humiliating how easy it is for you to rile him up from a few words. You just had that effect on him. And, god, did he fucking love it.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴍ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss :(

This was... new. Usually, you only allow him to be the one receiving all the attention and pleasure. Despite the waning professionalism in your relationship, this was still your job. It was only after your sessions that you'd grant yourself to come to the fresh memory of his whining and pleading. But who were you to deny him?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ...ᴏᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʀ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ 𝟺 ᴜ…

His fingers itch, his cock aching for any form of relief, but he knows better than to do anything without your permission. Besides, you make it all worth it in the end.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ 𝟸 ᴛɪᴍᴇs 𝟸ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ, ʜᴜʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ 𝟸 ᴅᴏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

nj_94 has sent 3,000 hearts!

[𝟷:𝟻𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇᴇᴇ

You laugh breathlessly despite the wetness building between your thighs at his begging. Your hand slips behind your back, unclipping your bralette before slipping it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. You angle the camera so that only the top half of your body shows before snapping the picture.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟻.ᴊᴘɢ]

Fuck. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of the image of your bare chest. Your hand sits right above the band of your thin panties, before the image cuts off. There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you bite your lip, staring straight into the camera. Jungkook can’t help it, he whines. His hand is pulling the black panties down to his mid thigh before he can think. He sighs at the feeling, grabbing the strawberry lube -your favorite- from his nightstand drawer and squirting a generous amount into his palm. He begins to leisurely stroke his member before a ping! from his phone interrupts him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?  

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀs. ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴɢ ʜᴏᴛᴛ 

[𝟸:𝟶𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪsʜ ɪ ᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡ ᴜ

You wish so too. To have him begging to touch you, to feel you, right in front of you? Fuck, it definitely did things to you. He did things to you. And you wanted to show him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟼.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

Jungkook’s hand falters when he sees you’ve sent a video. Not that it was uncommon, but usually he’d have to send hearts first. But, he decides not to question it, instead choosing to click on the video. It takes a few moments to load, but once the first few seconds start playing, Jungkook’s mouth drops. 

Your fingers are in your mouth, sucking and lathering them in spit before they trail down your body and under the fabric of your thin panties. Jungkook doesn’t need to see it, no, he can hear how wet you are. The sounds of your soft moaning and your fingers entering you drive Jungkook utterly wild, and he finds himself whimpering. He can’t stop watching the way you bite your lips and giggle, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Of course you knew. 

Jungkook replays the video, deliberate strokes of his hand sounding through the quietness of his room. “F-fuck, ____... what are you doing to me...” There’s another ping! that seems to reverberate in his head, and Jungkook slows his movements before he can get too lost in the endless ocean of his thoughts.

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇss, ʙᴀʙʏ? 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʀ ʀ ᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʙᴄ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ?  

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ɪ ᴄɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛғʟʟ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ sɴᴇᴅ sᴍᴛʜɴ ɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏғᴄ ʙᴀʙʏ

A few minutes pass before your phone finally vibrates, your screen lighting up with a new message. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟼𝟽.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

You hesitate for a bit, biting your lip before you press play. The sound of his hand fervently sliding up and down his shaft fills your ears, soft whines of pleasure slipping through the speaker of your phone. If you weren't turned on before, you definitely were now. Your hand travels down your body, slipping underneath your panties. Gasping at the pool of your wetness, your hand moves along your clit expertly as his hand slides along the mess of precum and red lube. Strawberry.

Right as the video is reaching the last ten seconds, your hands speed up against your heat. Your thoughts are clouded, lidded eyes staring at nj_94’s huge cock. Right before the video ends, you hear his voice, muttering nonsense, but that isn’t what makes you cease your motions. “F-fuck, ____, see what you do to me.”

It’s clear he doesn't realize he’s said your name, your actual name. But that's not even the weirdest part. No, because the voice sounds too familiar to you. Similar to the voice of— ping!

nj_94 has sent 5,000 hearts!

[𝟸:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғᴄᴋ ɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴇs 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʟᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴍᴍ 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss?  

[𝟸:𝟹𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟽.ᴊᴘᴇɢ]

The still image of your drenching core is enough for Jungkook to spill his seed all over his hand. His hand slows as he pumps the last spurts of his cum, chest heaving harshly. He grabs a couple of tissues from his nightstand, using it to clean the cum off of his fingers.

[𝟸:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟸:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

[𝟸:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼:,, ɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

Jungkook’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t think it’s from the breathtaking orgasm you had just given him. He’s on edge as he watches the little typing bubble appear and disappear multiple times. What could you possibly be ‘thinking’ about? Were you thinking of ending this whole thing? Oh god, were you thinking of—!

[𝟸:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?

No, this was definitely much worse. Jungkook never would have guessed how far this would have gone when he first impulsively texted you all those months ago. After the first two months, when the sexting had turned into a regular thing, he knew you’d eventually grow curious.  He knew you’d eventually ask. And, god, does he wish he had the fucking balls to tell you. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said this hadn’t turned into something more than just sexting. At least for him. He wasn’t really sure how you felt about him, though sometimes the things you’d say when you were coaxing him into an orgasm would go to his head, and he’d think, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more as well.

But after he’d come down from his high, and come down back to reality, Jungkook knew it was just wishful thinking. How could you have feelings for someone you’ve never met, never seen? Even if you did, it wasn’t Jungkook you felt something for, it was nj_94. Which, yes technically was him, but not to you. You probably thought it was, well, literally anyone except your nerd of a neighbor who was too much of a coward to tell you who he was. What the hell would he even tell you? How the hell would he tell you?

“Oh, hey, _____! You know that guy you’ve been sexting consistently through Cybersex for four months? Well, surprise! It’s been me the entire goddamn time!”

SLAP!

Yet, even in the safety of his imagination, you're fuming, ears blowing steam as you slam the door in his face. A demand to never speak to you again, and Jungkook sinks into the floor from shame and embarrassment. Sometimes, you’d laugh in his face, disbelieving, or worse, unwanting of him.

Jungkook’s mind was a weird and ghastly place.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at your message, but he sees you’ve gone offline, probably tired of waiting for him to reply. His thumbs hover over the keypad of his phone, but he can’t bring himself to say anything, not even to jokingly brush you off. There have been many moments before where you’ve brought up what nj_94 looks like, but somehow this time it feels different. Jungkook can’t pin down the feeling coiling in his stomach, so he does what he does best.

He ignores it.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The blaring sound of your alarm fills the once quiet room, ripping you away from your peaceful slumber, and you groan loudly into your pillow. Your hand fumbles around your nightstand as you try to blindly reach for your phone. Once you're able to turn off your alarm, you hear the pounding at the door. You lift your head, able to make out muffled calls of your name through your clouded mind. Who the fuck is trying to knock the door down so early in the morning? 

You choose to bury your face in your pillows again, shifting the duvet over your head in order to block out the noise. Reaching for your phone once again, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright screen, and- oh, shit, you’re running late... again.

You throw the covers off your body, almost falling over the heap of clothes strewn over your bedroom floor. The knocking continues, and you rush out of your room, throwing the door open without sparing another glance at who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Give me five minutes!”

The figure chuckles, entering the threshold as you run back to your bedroom to throw on something presentable. “Rough night?” he says, voice sounding muffled through the closed door.

You laugh breathlessly, “More like rough weekend.” but you’re sure your voice is too quiet to be heard. Hastily brushing your teeth, you attempt to slip on your sweatpants at once. Following your successful multitasking and finishing your morning routine in record time, you emerge from your bedroom. Grabbing your keys and book bag from the living room, you pad over to the shoe rack near the front door.

“Wow, you should start waking up late every day if you’re gonna get ready this fast.”

You roll your eyes turning to shoot Jungkook a glare, “Don’t worry, I’ll start taking my time now just for you.”

Not waiting for a response, you open the door, gesturing for him to exit. He curtsies before he begins walking down the hallway to the elevator, you following closely behind.

-----

There’s something different about you today.

You’re quiet, gazing into the distance as you both walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away from your university campus. He tries to think nothing of it, chalking it up to the sleepiness still wearing off from the early morning. But usually you’d be pointing out random things on the street, or teasing Jungkook endlessly. And maybe he might miss the (albeit playful and meaningless) flirting, but he’d never say that out loud.

You reach the shop without a word, the sound of the city waking up and Jungkook’s boots hitting the pavement the only source of noise between you. When you reach the cashier, you’re still dazed, and if Jungkook didn’t know your order by heart (something he also would never admit), you’d probably forgo ordering anything.

Despite noticing all the things off today, Jungkook decides to not ask. He really doesn't want to push you to talk. And you’d come to him if there was something really bothering you.

At least that’s what Jungkook tried to do, but when you continue to be off in your own world, unknowingly ignoring his attempts at making conversation, he decides fuck that. And even though Jungkook would deny, again, if anyone would ever ask him, he does care deeply for you. Anything bothering you, bothers him.

“Alright, what’s up?” he asks, trying to seem casual despite rethinking the words a thousand times in his head.

“Huh?” you blink, coming back down to earth. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sends you a disbelieving look, “You know what I mean. I asked you three times if you wanted a piece of my cheese danish, and you haven’t said a word since we left your apartment. So, what’s up?”

You duck your head, suddenly feeling bashful for ignoring Jungkook, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about... him since the weird conversation you had on Friday. And to make matters worse, the fucker has been ignoring you. The only times he has bothered to text, was only to cancel your Saturday night appointment, despite the money already being transferred to your account. And when you tried to send it back, he declined the request without a word. Everything that he does leaves you more confused than before, and now you’re left to deal with these gross feelings building inside you. 

Because even if you’re trying to ignore it, and him, as much as possible, your stupid brain can’t help thinking about all the sessions you’ve had with him, and all the mundane conversations that crossed the strictly business and purely sexual line. It was all too much, and you wished you could make sense of at least some of it, but now he won’t even talk to you. You can’t help thinking that maybe you had imagined it all. That maybe you had somehow convinced yourself that he felt the same way you did.

Or maybe he felt that it was becoming too much, too intimate, too serious, and wanted nothing to do with it. But even then, why couldn’t he have just told you that? Why did he have to fucking ghost you, for crying out loud? Why did-!

“Hello? Earth to _____!”

You blink, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of your face. “Fuck, did I do it again?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. What the hell is up with you today? “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you hesitate, because what would you even call this? The whole situation is weird if you were to explain it to, well, literally anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook thinks you work as a coder from home. “Boy problems.” 

Jungkook clears his throat, averting his eyes and choosing to focus on the grey concrete beneath him. “O-oh,” and as much as he doesn’t want to know about the other guy who’s got you so in your head, he still asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

You’re quiet for a moment, and Jungkook thinks that you might not say anything, that you might brush him off. He almost sighs in relief but then-

“Well, there’s this guy, and well- uhm,” you stare at the iced coffee in your hands, contemplating how to word your thoughts without actually spilling your secret. “We’ve never actually met, or anything, but we’ve been talking through this,” you pause again, glancing at Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched, “dating site. And well, we’ve been talking for about four months...” 

Jungkook almost trips over his own feet whipping his head to look at you. You’re still talking, but now his brain is hazy and he can't think straight. No...  you couldn’t... you’re not... you can’t be... you can’t be talking about... him, right? There’s... there’s no way. It has to be someone else. It has to be a coincidence that almost everything you’re saying sounds exactly like your relationship with... nj_94. Right? Right, of course, you’re definitely talking about someone else and it’s all in his-!

“...and when i asked, if uh, i’d ever get to see him, he kinda ghosted me, so, yeah.” you laugh nervously, noting the way Jungkook hasn't said a thing.

But, Jungkook is more sure than ever that you’re talking about him, well, not him, but nj_94, which technically- ok, you know what? It doesn’t matter because he feels nauseous and he’s sure he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach right here on campus in front of everyone. And now you’re looking at him with worry in those beautiful gleaming eyes of yours and oh, god, he needs to do something, anything to make this go away. Jungkook opens the lid of his coffee, taking a huge gulp without thinking anything of it because- OH FUCK!

IT’S FUCKING SCALDING. OH, GOD HIS TONGUE IS FUCKING BURNING AND HE’S SPUTTERING AND SPITTING THE COFFEE BACK OUT AND FUCK, IS HE SWEATING? IT’S SIXTY FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE AND HE’S SWEATING? NOW YOU’RE LOOKING AT HIM WITH CONCERN IN THOSE BEAUTIFUL GLEAMING EYES- wait, isn’t that the exact reason he’s stuck in this situation? God, what were you doing to him?

Jungkook barely registers the fact that you’ve both stopped walking, and are standing underneath one of the big trees on your campus. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he realizes through his mess of a mind that it's yours. 

“Jesus, Kook, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, like a liar because no, he’s not okay, far from it actually. Because you’re fucking talking about him, and you don’t even fucking know it. God, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like this. Truthfully, Jungkook doesn't exactly know why he’s been ignoring you. It was in a panic that he had cancelled your next session, afraid to talk to you after the sucker move he had pulled Friday night. 

And he knows, he fucking knows that avoiding it is just making it worse. And that it won't go away, no matter how much he tries to ignore it. Jungkook is at a loss for what to do, and it's not like he could go to his friends to ask for help. This whole situation was too fucking absurd to even bother explaining. But if there was one good thing coming from this, it was learning that you did actually care about him, or...erm...nj_94, at the very least. Sure, there were almost a million other things Jungkook had to figure out, but hey, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Jungkook unconsciously pouts, willing the tingling on his tongue to go away. He’s too busy glaring at the offending coffee in his hands to notice the way your worried stare turns into one of suspicion, if only for a moment.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

His head whips up at that, eyes widening at your words. Innocent and insignificant, yet Jungkook can’t help but think of the videos where you use the same tone. He’s sure that he’s completely forgotten the scalding burn on his tongue now. And it’s then that he sees it. The amused glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are pursed, seemingly holding back a laugh.

You’re making fun of him.

Jungkook scoffs, pushing your hand off his shoulder. You offer him the ice in your now empty cup, but he only rolls his eyes. You both toss your drinks in the can next to you, continuing the walk to your morning class. 

And he tries to act upset, he really does, but when he sees you start to laugh, he can’t help but do the same.

 [ :: ENTER... the (cyber)boy of your dreams ::]

There’s a familiar ping! that sounds through your bedroom, making you run out of your bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth as you reach for your charging phone. 

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟸 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ ʜᴏᴡ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ?

Trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, you roll your eyes at his compliment. Typing out a response, you hit send before chucking your phone across your bed, huffing as you plop onto your mattress.

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴏ ᴜ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴜʀ ɪɴʙᴏx?  

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ ;)

Jimin was a bit of an icon in the cybersex world, adored by fans and other cyberboys alike. His videos centered on a more… demanding persona, which is what got him his mass audience. It obviously worked in his favor, if a peek at his account was anything to go by.

ParkJimin 

@mincams

1,500,000 monthly viewers / 10,183,209 hearts

Most Popular: be a good girl, would you? / 7,937,937 views

And while a lot of cyberboys faked their personalities on screen, everything Jimin did had a sense of genuinity, and there was no doubt he was just as dominating in real life as he was on camera. You’d know better than anyone.

Jimin had begun texting you a few months ago, right when your videos had begun charting. It definitely took you by surprise, having only been messaged by two other cybergirls asking where you had bought your lingerie. And seeing his immense following only made you question it even more. What did he want to do with you when there were so many others who were more... on his level? 

Yet, despite you sometimes disregarding his messages due to the suspicion you had in the early weeks, there would still be a text from him every Wednesday without a doubt. This obviously led to you, eventually, texting him back, if only to satiate your curiosity. And well, he was definitely... intriguing, considering the fact that you’ve been speaking ever since. Though, your ‘acquaintance’  with him has definitely crossed that line of playful flirtiness and frisky texting.

Cyber fuck buddies was probably the best way to describe your relationship with Jimin now. One lonely, frustrating late night had led to you and Jimin exchanging some very lewd thoughts with each other. And yes, although you had broken your second rule of being a cybergirl, the intense orgasm Jimin had given you was enough for you to... tweak them a bit. 

See, at the beginning of your Cybersex journey, you had set rules for yourself, if only to make your job easier. And rule number two was to never get involved with a cyberboy. And, really, you were doing a great job at ignoring them completely, then Jimin had managed to slip his way into your life. But could you really blame yourself? Jimin was fucking hot, and you had your own desires that needed to be satisfied every once in a while. When he had just offered himself up, what were you supposed to do? Say no? It’s not like you were fucking him in real life anyway. 

So, you changed that rule to never fuck a cyberboy. Harder to actually break and straight to the point. And yet... here you were, thinking of bringing none other than Park fucking Cyberboy Jimin onto your next show.

And you know, it sounds fucking stupid because what the hell? Did you not go over your own rules just now? But Jimin was the only one that could (possibly) help you in this very... unique situation. And, no, you were not gonna fuck him. Despite how much you’ve bent your rules, you were still going to try to respect them. Besides, you had other plans for him. 

Like you mentioned before, Jimin was as demanding in his videos as in real life. Yet, there he’d be, in your direct messages, damn near begging for an opportunity to film a video with you. 

Who would have thought that Park Jimin, the one who has everyone begging for him, actually wanted to be on his knees for you. 

And at first it was easy to brush it off as a meaningless joke. Hell, you’d even respond back with a quip of your own. But when he actually explained himself, you had to say, all his points were very convincing. Something about gaining a bigger platform and a more ‘enlightening’ sexual experience. But, you had never brought anyone on your channel, and honestly, you had brushed the idea of a ‘partnership’ with him to the back of your mind. That is, until now.

Now, you needed him more than ever, for your own reasons.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴜʀ ᴏғғᴇʀ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ... ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀsᴋ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs   

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs.  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸4 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʀs? 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴜʀᴇ...ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɴ ᴡᴇ ғɪʟᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴀᴛ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴇᴀʟ?  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.  

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴅᴇᴀʟ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴛᴜʀᴅᴀʏ ;)

The buzz of quiet conversation fills the room, accompanied by the sounds of the documentary playing on the projector that no one could be seen paying attention to. Even the professor seemed to be falling asleep grading papers near the corner of the room. There were excited whispers of a party later tonight, but you, you were ecstatic for reasons completely different.

“Pssst! Jungkook!”

Jungkook lifts his head, looking around before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and almost jumps back in shock from how close your face is to his. 

“Uh, yeah?” he whispers back.

There’s something in your smile that throws him off, demure and something else he can’t seem to figure out. Maybe Jungkook pays too much attention to anything you do. Fuck, you're driving him crazy just sitting there.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Uh, no... why?” he stutters, and maybe it’s just the dark lighting in the room, but he swears he sees your eyes gleam. 

“No reason,” you respond, leaning your head against your hand. Your other hand comes to toy with the necklace sitting around your neck. “But I’d advise you to stay home this weekend.”

His eyes widen. What the fuck? Did Jungkook hear you correctly? Or is he starting to hear things too? What the hell are you doing to him? “W-what?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the... show,” you make sure to look right into his eyes, “playing tomorrow night. I heard it was going to be really special.”

Jungkook blinks multiple times, sure the confusion and shock is written on his face as he stares at you. Fuck, he doesn’t know if he heard you correctly, and he’s too afraid to ask. He’s only able to dumbly murmur a “what?”

You only smile, no indication that those words had actually left your mouth. Except the fact that Jungkook had seen it. “There’s supposed to be a storm tomorrow. It’s not safe to go out.”

The lights flicker back on, and students begin to get up to leave the lecture hall. Jungkook is glued to his chair, staring at the desk you had just been sitting in. He’s too stunned to even bother thinking of a response, but luckily (or unluckily) you don’t seem to mind it. Instead you rise from your seat, swinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“I’ll see you later, Jungkook.”

He glances up, swallowing hard at the coy grin on your face. Jungkook can’t help but follow your movement, watching as you pause at the door. You turn your head, making sure that you meet his eyes once again before winking at him. You take your leave, disappearing down the hallway but lingering in Jungkook’s mind.

There was... no way you knew, right? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip. Maybe you were talking about a TV show? As much as Jungkook tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, that no, you didn’t know about his not-so-little secret, somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that it was futile.

He’s embarrassed to admit that once he gets into the safety of his apartment, he runs to his computer, biting his nails as he waits for it to turn on. Jungkook clicks on the pink heart icon in the corner of his home screen, inputting his memorized account information.

USERNAME: nj_94

PASSWORD: boyzwithfun97

Jungkook hasn’t logged onto Cybersex since last Saturday, but searching for your name is like clockwork. Right as he clicks on your profile, he sees you’ve made a new post. Usually, Fridays were the days you went live, but apparently things were different tonight.

[9 MINUTES AGO] SWEETHEART666 said:

no live tonight, babes. vv special video coming tomorrow <3.

Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.

[ :: JOINING... the valley ::]

Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even know what to expect. It’s finally Saturday, well Saturday morning and Jungkook finds himself lying in his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. He’s already dreading the day, knowing that all that would be on his mind today would be you, and your stupid, vague words with your stupid smirk and, fuck, let’s just be real for a second; Jungkook has never been more mortified in his twenty-three years of living. Though if anyone were to ask, he’d say he’s doing fucking peachy, like the liar he is.

He hasn’t seen you since yesterday when you almost gave him a stroke from those borderline seductive words of yours. Fuck, a “show”? What else could you possibly mean? Did you know that he watched your videos? For Jungkook’s sake, he prays to whoever is up there that that’s all you know. The walls of the apartments are thin, thin enough for Jungkook to hear you moaning every time you film, and definitely flimsy enough for you to catch the sound of your name tumbling from his lips almost every goddamn time he comes. But, god, does he really wish he knew how you felt about everything. Instead of leaving him in the dark, he wished you would have at least told him you weren't angry at him for watching your videos in secret.

Oh, how things have taken a turn.

Something Jungkook is great at is pushing away his feelings. Which, in hindsight, has definitely never ever gone even remotely in his favor. Does that stop him from burying it all down? No. But it definitely has taught him ways to distract himself from anything and everything. And one of his favorite distractions is working out. In the gym located in the lower level of his apartment complex, he’s able to filter out the world, his thoughts, and throw all the shit he’s pushed down onto the treadmill. He focuses on the loud drumming of his playlist, pressing down on the arrow button until he’s completely drenched in sweat, panting from the thirty-minute sprint. Then it's weight lifting, which isn't as distracting as he’d like it to be, but if he turns his music up louder, he can't hear the way his brain is screaming at him to just! make! sense! of! his! feelings!

But it only lasts a short hour and a half during the workout. Now, all Jungkook can focus on is the way he hasn't ridden this elevator with you in what seems like forever, and how much he misses talking to you, even if it's just as nj_94. He wonders if maybe he’ll catch sight of you walking back from doing your laundry like he always does when he comes back from his Saturday workouts. Much to his dismay, there’s no sight of you when the elevator reaches your shared floor. His shoulders deflate, and he walks with his head down, feeling completely pathetic.

It’s only when he’s a few feet away from your apartment entrance that he spots the unfamiliar man leaning against your door. He’s poised, aura oozing with confidence and nonchalance. Jungkook slows his walking. Who the hell was he?

The man in question turns his head slightly, and consequently makes direct eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook feels his eyes widen at how attractive this man was. But, honestly, he would be more surprised if he saw you with someone who looked any less than a fucking god amongst mortals. The man looks Jungkook up and down, plump lips shifting into a smirk before he tilts his head. Jungkook tenses, throwing him a quick nod of the head. His smile widens before the door to your apartment opens, and he walks in, disappearing as quickly as the door shuts. 

Great, the last chance he had to see you before tonight was gone. No questions answered, but it was fine. Everything was fine. All he had to do was wait a bit more. Jungkook glances at his watch, sighing loudly before inputting the code, rather harshly, to his apartment.

Only five more hours.

Five minutes.

Jungkook has lost count of how many times he’s refreshed your profile page. He probably looks as crazy as he feels waiting for the clock to hit eleven. He doesn't know what he’s feeling. Excited? Unnerved? Terrified? Jungkook's willing to bet it might be all three.

The minutes seem to go agonizingly slow as if taunting him. The ticking of the clock above his bed threatens to send him into overdrive. He has half a mind to rip it from the nail on the wall and throw it across the room. Even the soft rain hitting his bedroom window makes him want to scream. But he knows every jumbled thought crossing his mind is just an attempt to distract him from the absolute fear he’s feeling right now.

Then finally, finally, after the umpteenth time Jungkook has refreshed the page, right when he feels he's about to implode and have his insides turn into mush, it appears. Right as the shorthand hits eleven.

● [LIVE!] ur fav boy on his knees... w/ a special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

2,039 viewing now

Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop beating, and he almost doesn't click on the live, he almost shuts his laptop and walks to the corner of his bedroom to rethink his actions in shame.

Almost.

The sight is familiar, one of your dimly-lit bedroom and a king-sized bed freshly made with black satin sheets. It’s a view Jungkook has grown all too accustomed to, after spending countless late nights watching you come undone under the same light. But tonight, everything has him on edge. Even the sensual music playing quietly in the background makes his heart rate increase. 

It takes another minute before you appear in frame, wearing that damned smirk on your face again. But now there’s a flash of something he can’t seem to name, that flickers in your eyes. Jungkook must either be losing his mind, or the camera was playing tricks. You greet everyone in that same sweet voice of yours, as you always do in every video. You wait a few more moments for more viewers to join, toying with the heart that hangs on the chain wrapped around your neck. Everything seemed normal so far, and for a split second, Jungkook is able to breathe again. But before his thoughts could get any further, he comes into the frame.

“Everyone, this is Minnie. You might know him as Jimin, or mincams. He’s the first person I’ve ever brought on my channel, so please be nice to him...”

The same guy that had been standing outside of your apartment door. Jungkook should’ve connected the dots. It was all right in front of his fucking eyes, yet he was too in his feelings to even realize it. This was your ‘special surprise’. 

Jimin’s face is eerily familiar, and Jungkook realizes that it’s not from the fleeting hallway interaction. No, he’s definitely seen him on the trending page of Cybersex multiple times. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize him at first, having clicked on his videos out of curiosity before. He briefly wonders how Jimin, the ever dominating and controlling Cyberboy, was so willing to get on his knees for you. Then again, Jungkook knew better than to doubt your authority over anyone. 

“...unless, of course, he misbehaves.”

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, mind failing to grasp the last few words that had tumbled from your mouth. Had he heard you right? Judging by the way Jimin’s eyes light up, he’s gonna take a wild guess and say that yes, this was going exactly where Jungkook thought it was. He looks down at his pants. Jungkook was definitely more excited than terrified now.

You stand from your spot on the floor, but Jimin stays kneeled right where he is, eyes following your movement behind the camera. Jungkook glances at the growing number of viewers, half probably from Jimin’s own audience. Just one look at the comments, he notes that this is definitely something his fans had been waiting for. 

“Sit on the bed. Strip down to your underwear.”

Even though he knows your words aren’t directed at him, Jungkook’s dick has a mind of its own. Sure, he’s watched the way you dominate during your solo shows, but seeing you order about another man, fuck, does it do things to Jungkook.

He watches as Jimin obeys immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed and almost ripping his shirt in his haste to please you. You walk into frame again, holding a piece of fabric in one hand. You trace your fingers over the slope of his nose, past his lips, and down the length of his neck. “Such a pretty face. Shame I have to cover it...” you pout, though your eyes are shining with mischief. Your hands bring the silk scarf around his eyes, tying it behind his head. 

Jungkook puts his hand over his growing bulge as you guide Jimin further back onto your bed. You turn him to the side, both of your bodies perfectly lining up with the camera. Fuck, is it driving Jungkook absolutely wild knowing that this was all happening just on the other side of the wall behind him. God, the things he’d do to be in Jimin’s place. Or just be there in person.

You’re on his lap now, nipping at his neck as Jimin’s soft moans filter through the speakers of his computer. Your hands, however, are kept at your side, only making Jimin’s pleas for your touch more desperate. Yet, you give into none of it. Pulling away from him, but not without another whine from the blinded man, you grin. “So whiny.” 

Jungkook pauses his clothed palming, waiting with bated breath as you go behind the camera once again. The sight of Jimin’s flushed cheeks and harsh breathing makes his dick harden impossibly more. You appear in frame, this time with an unfamiliar object in your hand. Your hand goes to Jimin’s chest, and he jumps from surprise, then immediately after whines at your soft caresses. Once his nipple stiffens, your other hand clamps the pink clip onto it, prompting a gasp from both Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook watches as you adjust the tightness while struggling to pull down his pants laying down. Jimin looks even more flustered than before, hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. “Does it feel okay?” he hears you whisper, and Jimin nods eagerly. You chuckle, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” Jimin’s voice is strangled, and Jungkook can see the painful swell of his cock outline through the camera lens. “It’s perfect.” 

“Good.” you pat his cheek before pushing him to lie down on his back. Another piece of fabric comes to wrap around Jimin’s wrists, placing them above his head. You climb over his body, opting to lay over his thighs, just below his prominent erection. “Tell me, baby,” Jungkook’s eyes catch the matching pink remote in your hand and the smirk on your face. Your thumb presses down on the button, and the sudden sounds of buzzing mixed with Jimin whining sets Jungkook’s skin ablaze. “Is it ok if I use you for tonight?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, p-please use me, sweetheart.” 

Jungkook has his hand on his shaft, leisurely stroking as he watches you press the button once again. The humming stops, but Jimin is left gasping, back arching off the sheets. The sight spurs Jungkook further, and he brings his own hand to his erect nipples, pinching hard. You move to straddle Jimin’s thigh before lifting the other clamp to his mouth. “Open up, baby.”

Jimin quickly complies, opening his mouth wide enough for your index finger and thumb to enter. His lips wrap snugly around them, sucking until you tap his cheek. Your fingers and the clamp emerge drenched in his spit, but Jungkook only gets a glance before you’re shoving them beneath your thin mesh slip-on. The clamps come to life once again, you and Jimin releasing simultaneous moans of ecstasy. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat building on Jungkook’s skin as he pumps himself harder, whining at the sight. God, he’s never wanted to be beneath you as much as he wants to now. He watches as you press the remote once again, giggling quietly at Jimin’s complaining. Jungkook stops his stroking, despite how much he wants to continue, realizing he’d probably make himself come unintentionally. And he could tell you were just getting started.

Your hand trails down the expanse of his chest, trailing down his toned stomach before stopping right above the place Jimin wants you the most. Your touches are playful, teasing as you use your other hand to reattach the wet clip on Jimin’s bare nipple. Jimin gasps when you press your hand down on his erection. “Nngh, sweetheart. It hurts.” he pouts, and Jungkook is almost sure if he wasn’t blindfolded, he’d be giving you puppy eyes. 

But you’re inexorable.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?” you’re still talking to Jimin, but you look straight at the camera, and at Jungkook, as you say it, lashes fluttering.

Now that makes Jungkook cease his motions. Even in his hunger-ridden mind, the words feel strangely familiar, like he’s heard them before, but in a different situation. Jungkook can’t seem to remember, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. You’ve left Jimin alone on the bed again, standing beside as you slowly strip yourself of your underwear. Hearts blow up the screen as you smirk at the camera. “Everyone’s so needy today, huh?”

You crawl up next to Jimin, tracing your fingers lightly over his toned chest. “You could probably come from these alone.” Jimin voices his pleading objections, desperate to feel your hands elsewhere, but you leave his side once again, walking closer to the camera. “Hmm, let’s ask your fans what they think.”

There’s no need to even glance at the video chat, because your laugh says it all. “Looks like they want you like this, Minnie.” He arches his back of the bed, attempting to plead with you for more stimulation. “Nnngh, please, sweetheart.” Yet you only giggle quietly. Your hand reaches for the remote off to the side before you turn the clamps on once again. Jimin’s breathy moans are loud, loud enough to filter through your shared wall, and Jungkook gulps. 

Leaving Jimin alone on the bed once again, you emerge with a silver bowl in your hand. You crawl onto his thighs again, clicking the button and halting Jimin’s pleasure. Your fingers pick up an ice cube before tracing it down his chest. Jimin shivers at the coolness, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for your next move. When you reach the band of his boxers, you leave the ice cube to melt on his abs before pulling them down and letting his cock hit his stomach. Jimin gasps at the cold wetness, tied hands digging into the mattress above his head. “Is that better, Minnie?” he only nods in response, and this time it’s enough for you. 

Jungkook glances at the mess on his lap, a mix of his precum and spit lathered all over his shaft and hand. He looks back at his screen, and he sees you’ve crawled over his chest, nearing his face. Your hand goes to cradle his jaw, using your thumb to trace his bottom lip. “Tell me, Minnie, is this mouth only good for whining and complaining?” Jimin shakes his head fervently, tongue coming out to lick at your thumb. “Hmm, mind if I test it for myself then?”

Jimin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Please.”

You push his head back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of his head. Another ice cube finds its way to your hand, and you bring it to Jimin’s lips. “Open, Minnie.” he complies, sucking the ice into his mouth. His mouth is left agape, and you smile, pleased. “Good boy.” 

You slowly sink down, just enough for Jimin to start licking and sucking your heat. You gasp, holding your breath before letting out a small whimper. The hand that’s not steadying you holds the remote, pressing down on the button once again. Jimin groans into your clit. Jungkook watches the way your back arches with pleasure as his hand speeds up on his dick. He imagines being the one underneath you, eating you out like he’s wanted to for so long. Jungkook tries to be quiet, he truly does, but, fuck, just the vision of you spread out above him, makes him moan out loud.

“C’mon, Minnie, louder. Don’t you want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel?” Jungkook doesn’t realize how loud Jimin is until he hears his moans clearer through the wall than his computer speaker. Jungkook swallows down his whines as best he can, but when he sees the way your toes curl from Jimin’s unrelenting mouth, he can’t help it anymore. He’s sure the noises falling from his mouth can be heard as clearly as Jimin’s, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he’s so close to his own release.

Your whimpers only spur Jungkook further, and he’s too lost in the way you smirk straight at the camera to worry about his volume anymore. He groans, on the edge of ecstasy when your voice sounds through his clouded mind. “C’mon, baby boy, I know you can do it.” White flashes behind his eyelids, and he comes in spurts of white all over his stomach. Jungkook doesn’t notice the way all light in his room has suddenly shut off, leaving him with only the glow of his dying computer to luminate him. 

When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, there’s nothing but darkness, the harsh sound of rain splattering against his window and the howling noise of the wind mixing with his harsh breathing. Even Jimin’s whines and the humming of his laptop has stopped. The post orgasm haze clouding in his mind the only indication that whatever just happened was actually real.

CLICK!

[ENDED] ur fav boy on his knees w/ special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

687,982 viewers / 2,298,836 hearts

#16 on trending 

“Fuck.” he mutters, finally grasping the fact that the power had gone out. But, it’s when Jungkook’s eyes adjust to the darkness, that it comes back to him. Something you said that sounded too familiar, and this time he knows it’s not his imagination. 

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?”

It becomes clearer as his breath evens out.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

You know.

© dewykth. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, translate or modify.