tales-from-exo-planet

[laiiaaa]

Your writing is stunning! Can I request injured!reader and Carmy rushing to be by her side? god the idea of that man dropping everything to be with you....

this has been in my drafts for probably a year now. i forget why i was hesitant to post it. so here’s something for you all :)

“Hey, Cousin—”

“I’m in the middle ‘f something, not now, Richie—”

“Hey.” He raises his brows, gives that serious look that has Carmen’s head peeking over his shoulder because it’s so sharp he can feel it. “It’s your girl. You wanna take this.”

He gets nervous, then, heart beginning to race. Where’s his fuckin’ phone?

“Give it here,” he says, arm extended. Richie hands it over and slips out the door, shutting it to leave Carmen by himself in the office; it only makes hurt stomach lurch harder.

He lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“. . . Carm?” Your voice is broken and wobbly, wrought with tears.

“Baby?” He doesn’t even think before he’s jumping out of his chair, tucking the phone between his jaw and shoulder while he scrambles to find his keys. “Baby, you there? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at the hospital, I tried calling you—”

“The hospital—?” His mind goes back to New York, back to that morning. “What—” He takes a deep breath. His jacket. Where the fuck is it? “Okay, you’re okay, I’m comin’ now, alright?” He storms out of the office toward the lockers, finds everything right where he put it, including his phone. Dead. Fuck. “I gotta hang up, okay? I’m sorry, I know, I can’t take the phone with me. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“O-Okay.” A shuddered breath rings through the line, and it kills him. “I’m okay, Carmy—”

“I know,” he says, shimmying into his jacket and feeling for his keys. “I know, baby, but I’m comin’ anyway, you hear me? Gonna be there in ten.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I love you.”

He doesn’t put the phone back properly, just slides it across the counter and hopes it doesn’t break again, shouting out orders over his shoulder on his way out the door.

The ride there is the longest ten minutes of his life. He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know anything at all, really. Are you hurt? How bad is it? What happened? Is it a burn, a broken bone, just a flu that got out of hand? Will you need surgery? Did you get in an accident? Did someone try to hurt you? He doesn’t want you to be alone right now. He needs to be there with you. You were fine this morning. You were fine this morning, all beautiful and groggy when he kissed you awake, still cozied up in bed when he left early as the sky turned blue after sunrise. You were fine. You were fine, and then he left, and suddenly you weren’t.

The fluorescent lights make him nauseous. They’re too bright, and a disgusting color, and too different from all the gentle lighting you insisted upon at home. Made the place homey, you said, and he agreed. The nurses at the station must think he’s out of his mind, all wide-eyed and asking for you.

“What’s your name?” the one asks him.

“Carmen, I’m her fiancé, I was—I was just on the phone with her—”

“Okay,” she nods, softening. “She’s doin’ alright now, she was askin’ for you, though. Still gotta get her wrapped up, but you’ll be outta here soon.”

He’s too busy wondering What the fuck does that mean? to properly answer.

When he’s finally brought to your room, his nerves subside—only a little. There’s no blood, no bland hospital gown to say you’re headed off to the operating room. Just a pillow over your tummy, with your arm—your swollen, bruised arm—resting on top of it.

“Hey, hon,” he says, coming to your bedside and smoothing a hand over your forehead to press his lips to your temple. “You alright? What happened?”

“They—” you sniffle when you look up at him, lip quivering— “They had to take my ring off, Carmy—” he nods along to your rambling with a concerned brow— “I-I told them not to, but they said my hand was too swollen—that-that it was gonna mess up my finger—. . .”

“What’s that, baby?” He smiles into your hair and exhales through his nose. So typical of you to get upset about something cute like that, he knows you’ll be okay. “Your arm’s all black ‘n blue, and you’re worried about your ring—?”

“But it’s special—”

“Shhhhh . . . I know, I know . . . ‘m just askin’ you to ease up.” Another kiss lands on your forehead before he asks, “Where’s it at, baby? I’ll fix it for you.”

You pout and look somewhere behind him. “On the table, but you’re not gonna be able to—”

“Just take a breath ‘n relax f’me, yeah? I got it.”

He stands upright again, turning to check that the ring is there—that beautiful, beautiful big diamond for his precious girl, before reaching toward the nape of his neck to unclasp his chain. Carefully, he threads it through the ring, silently urges you to sit up so he can hook it around your neck, icy-cool on your smooth skin, admiring the way it sparkles like your eyes.

You’re still pouting when he’s done, and he kisses your soft lips anyway while he wipes away stray tears. “Better?”

“. . . yeah,” you admit through a murmur.

“Good,” he huffs, pulling the visitor’s chair right next to your bed. With your good arm, you reach for him, just any part of him, and he holds your hand as he kisses your dry knuckles. “You gonna tell me what happened now? What’s got you all banged up?”

And you groan and roll your eyes, insisting that it’s too embarrassing to tell, and he lets you drag it out just because he thinks it’s cute when you’re stubborn. The doctor comes in with the x-rays to confirm that, yes, indeed, you’ve got yourself a broken arm, and after you’re splinted and discharged and given a sling and the next day’s protocol, Carmen holds your good hand on the way out the door.

“Oh,” you start, pausing before he opens the car door for you, “I forgot to tell you.”

“Hm?”

“I drove here.”

“You what?”

“I told you, I was embarrassed, Carm—”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” he grunts, laughing and shaking his head with fingers running through his hair as he helps you into the passenger’s seat. “You’re killin’ me today, y’know that?”

And it’s not the last time. When he unlocks the front door and sees the laundry spilled all the way down the stairs, with a basket flipped upside down at the bottom, he can put the pieces together. He kisses you softly, doesn’t say a word about it, takes you to the bedroom, and tucks you into bed to let you rest now that your adrenaline is wearing off and the pain meds are making you sleepy.

He fixes up the mess without a second thought, and once he’s done he slips right under the covers next to you, thanking whatever God there is that you’re okay, and that he’s got you back in his arms.

(And tomorrow, when he takes you into the doctor’s office for a proper cast, he has Natalie and Pete pick up your car. He still hounds on you about it weeks later, how you drove yourself to the hospital with a broken arm. You insist it makes for a good story, and to that he can’t deny.)

[strangerstilinski]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: eddie in blue jeans. eddie leaking in blue jeans. eddie cumming in blue jeans. that's it, that's the fic. [ 2.9k ]

𝗰𝘄: reader with a vagina & breasts, 1 occurrence where reader refers to themselves as a girl, overuse of italics probably, other than that we just have heaping doses of heavy petting, grinding, and kissing. oh! and a certain someone cumming in his pants ofc

𝗮/𝗻: imo the second half of this is where i reaaally shined, ok? there's just... something so *clenches fist* about eddie who's so turned on by you that he's stupid with it. anyway, thank you for reading! xx and remember to reblog to make eddie cum <3

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

The curls at the nape of Eddie's neck are damp where they tangle around your fingers. His breath rolls out in hot waves against your tongue, full, split-slick lips moving eagerly against your own. Eddie is kissing you like he thinks he might die without the taste of you, fervent and hungry and seemingly determined to stake some sort of claim on your mouth. 

You've only been at it for five minutes but, seriously, how in the hell did normal people ever make it through an entire evening without devouring their date? Either they are far stronger than you, or it's the power of something you'd simply dubbed The Eddie Munson Effect.

Regardless, you're feeling beyond desperate. 

Because you'd had to watch every single stumbling step Eddie made throughout the evening as he quite literally tripped over his own feet in a rush to open doors for you. He'd done so with all of his usual awkward charm, arm extended with gentlemanly grandeur — and on one occasion, he'd even bent at the waist into an adorably courteous little bow as he'd waited for you to step through. Each time, his hand found the small of your waist, and while he would linger a second longer than was strictly necessary, his touch always remained polite and comforting, never bleeding into the possessive brand that you'd noticed beneath the hands of men in the past.

Then again, every brush of Eddie's fingers over the course of the evening had sent sparks down your spine. 

There'd been one moment, when the wind had caught the hem of your skirt and sent it billowing up — you'd felt the cool air rush all the way up to the sliver of tummy above your underwear — but Eddie's hands had been quick to find your waist, smoothing the fabric back down over your thighs and holding it there for a beat. Thick fingers and clunky silver rings had hesitated on your hips until the breeze died down, and then Eddie's face had gone red in a way that had little to do with the chill in the air, and entirely more to do with the sudden realization of how close you were, how intimate the brush of his pinky was against the warm skin at the back of your thigh. 

And you absolutely had to take into account the condition in which he'd showed up on your doorstep. With a crisp white tshirt tucked neatly into the waistband of light-wash jeans. His hair shining lightly with gel, curls coiled in slightly neater than usual ringlets. With his jaw shaved smooth, and his skin smelling sharply of a rich, woodsy aftershave or cologne that gave you butterflies every time you breathed in.

Then there was the way each and every hearty chuckle that he'd let out over the course of the evening had curled in your ears and proceeded to pool pleasantly in your gut. The way every dramatic story retelling had left you fully enraptured right from the start. The way  every dimpled grin had practically sucked the air straight from your lungs. And your ever-deepening feelings for him had only solidified with each of his stuttered attempts to accept your compliments.

All evening long, you'd been eager to fast-forward, to get right here. Home, on your couch, thighs splayed wide over the cradle of Eddie's lap, skin flushed with heat, with your skirt rucked up and your sweater steadily slipping down your shoulder. 

And now that you're here, Eddie's hands have undertaken the impossible task of clutching at every part of you at once. Ringed fingers rake down your back only to grab ahold of your ass to drag you more heavily into his lap. Your teeth catch on his lower lip when he forces your hips to roll in a staggered rhythm, shaky thrusts driving his own hips up and slotting the bulge in his jeans just where you needed it to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs. 

You both gasp into the kiss at the friction that the poorly-synchronized movements are making. The rough chafe of his zipper and denim against the cotton of your panties is only just shy of being too much. It's delicious. 

"Y-your roommate-" Eddie pulls away to stutter against your cheek. 

"Out." You supply in a rush before your mouths are crashing together again like magnets. 

Eddie makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a satisfied sort of drawn-out groan that has your head spinning. You can still taste the lingering traces of the cigarette he'd smoked during the short walk back to his van, and the breath mint that he'd popped into his mouth immediately after. The mingling flavors are enough to give you a headrush. As if the combination of mint and nicotine were absorbing straight into your bloodstream merely from licking it from his mouth. But, maybe that has more to do with the way Eddie is kissing you-

Eddie seems to approach kissing with the same over-abundance of heart and enthusiasm that he does with literally everything else. Plush lips work against your own, smoothly encouraging your mouth open for him every time you dare to draw back for a quick breath. It's a perfect give and take, an intoxicating push and pull that you had zero qualms about getting lost in. 

This has always been your favorite part of foreplay. The slow-building desperation. The shared breaths. The wandering hands. The heated teasing that you felt pulsing in your clit and all the way down to your toes. It's something you normally relish in drawing out as long as possible, until your panties are soaked through and your lips are sore, but, fuck-

You can feel how hard Eddie is growing beneath you. The warmth of his cock burns all the way through his jeans until you swear you can feel it against your cunt and inner thighs— Until you swear you can nearly distinguish the sheer heat of the blood swelling his erection from the less-oppressive warmth emanating from his legs. And when his mouth trails down the line of your jaw to kiss and nip at your throat, you can't help but attempt to sneak a peek at the arousal you've drawn out of him.

The sight doesn't disappoint. 

His bulge stretches all the way from the bottom of the zip on his jeans and across the crease of his thigh. The obvious curve of his shaft straining against its tight confines stretches across his left thigh and then tapers out at the head of his cock—Jesus, he’s huge—and if you squint, you think you might even be able to make out a small spot, no more than the size of pea, where the light wash denim looks just a bit, well, wet. And, holy shit. 

It's drool-worthy. It's so hot. Your mouth might genuinely be watering just looking at it-

Oh, god. You really needed to kiss him just a little longer. You were certainly not about to be the girl who drops to their knees to suck a guy's dick within ten measly minutes of getting through the front door on a first goddamn date. That would be ridiculous. 

You'd make it at least twenty, surely — Maybe fifteen. 

In the meantime, more kissing. And that would be all too easy with the way Eddie's hands slip lower along the curve of your ass as he finds your mouth again. His fingers burying deeper into your flesh, rings biting with a sharp pinch that makes you keen and release an encouraging moan. 

There's a fire building behind your clit with every drag of your hips. You feel deranged beneath the haze of your lust, but Eddie only seems to be matching your need every step of the way. 

You've never seen him quite so out of control. So desperate, and God it's a beautiful sight. 

Eddie's spine arches forward from the back of the couch to push his chest to your own. Your hips stutter, driving down against the bulge in his jeans. The hard line of his cock wedges neatly at your center, fighting against the oppressive barrier of your underwear and his jeans. Dull as it is, it gives the barest hint as to what it would be like to have him actually pressing into your aching cunt, stretching you out. 

Just the thought makes your hips buck, little rolls of your hips re-doubling in effort. The pressure against your entrance has you whining pitifully as Eddie's tongue strokes over yours. One of those gorgeous, wide palms of his moves up to your jaw to hold your face steady as he attempts to swallow up your sounds. 

"Eddie." You pant brokenly, a plea. Because you're trying, really, but fuck. If you didn't get him inside of you — in one way or another — in the next few minutes, you very well might lose your mind.

Your fingers wind tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp in that soft way that makes Eddie's cock jump in his pants. 

The noises you're making.. 

They're better than any song Eddie has ever heard in his entire life, high and needy and so fucking hot. Every little sound has Eddie's thighs flexing beneath you in an attempt to keep his erection pressed snug to your cunt, to push the intoxicating ebb and flow that the two of you have going over into something more. Into a constant, blissful friction. 

Another minute of the heavy grind of your pussy over his lap has Eddie's cock twitching again, his balls tightening up and his brain growing too foggy to hold back the needy whimpers that rise in his own throat. 

“Shit-” Eddie gasps, his voice gone raspy with need. 

You murmur something in response that gets muffled by Eddie's lips and tongue. Something about wanting his cock on your tongue but also possibly inside your pussy — The details are unclear. Eddie has no idea which exactly you're angling toward, but he's ready to bust already and you're both still fully-clothed, so. He's just praying to Ozzy that he'll even make it that far. 

He probably needs to take a breather, and really he's going to, but then your hips stutter and you let out the sweetest little moan and Eddie kind of goes dumb with it.

He's too far gone to hear the telltale rattle of keys against your front door, or the click of the lock that has your own head snapping up toward the doorway in surprise. You stiffen above him, your ass driving down against his cock as your movements come to a halt and your weight drops heavily into his lap. 

And shit, he'd already been fucking throbbing in his jeans. The new pressure on his erection is just too much. 

A small noise of shock and pleasure tears from Eddie's throat, a pathetic sounding thing that makes your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and a rush of arousal soak the cotton of your panties. His lips part beneath your own unmoving ones, his jaw gone slack around the broken moan that falls into the heat of your mouth. 

Eddie's hips buck up sharply, fingers biting meanly into your hips as warmth floods his briefs, cock twitching and eyes rolling back as he shakes through the quick waves of his orgasm. His brain is pure static, ears ringing with such strength that your nervous laugh and stammered greeting sound far off despite you being pressed so close to him. Everything sounded just a bit like he was underwater. 

His head clears a little as you brace your hands on his shoulders and push yourself up, his eyes popping open as the distance between you grows and the warmth of your body disappears altogether. You're smiling awkwardly, laughing despite yourself, with your gaze locked somewhere over his shoulder as you attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt — and then Eddie finally processes the sound of Robin's voice in the entryway behind him. 

Oh. Oh, fuck. 

Eddie's heart had already been beating heavily, but suddenly he swears he can feel each and every rhythmic pump of the blood in his veins. The strength of it makes his pulse thump so violently in the hollow of his throat that his eye might've been twitching in time with each beat. 

His gaze drops to his lap, where, to his horror, light blue denim is already a few shades darker. His cum is already soaking through his underwear and very, very quickly spreading into a wider, far more noticeable wet patch, and Jesus fucking Christ, this cannot be happening to him-

He tugs at his pant-leg desperately in an attempt to draw the fabric away from where the cum had pooled in the crease of his pelvis and then dripped steadily down the length of his thigh, but it's too late. 

He'd come.. so hard. And so much. His pants are stretched too fucking tight because he's sitting and you'd just rung out every last fucking drop of cum from his balls with your pretty pussy rubbing over his lap again and again and-

Robin's muffled curse breaks through his inner-turmoil, followed by the loud thud of something heavy landing on the kitchen counter behind him. Eddie turns sideways in his seat to find Robin with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on her brow, her arms draped limply around a large television set. She's panting exaggeratedly, mouth running a mile a minute as she regales the story of the older couple on the first floor who had upgraded to a 35-inch and offered up their old console for, quote: “Twenty bucks! A goddamn steal, you guys-!”

The two of you are babbling excitedly back and forth, the front door to your apartment still hanging slightly ajar all the while. Eddie realizes, belatedly, that Robin must've carried the behemoth of a thing all the way upstairs by herself — How the hell had she even managed that? 

“Eddie, would you mind giving her a hand with that while I clear a spot for it over here?” You delegate gleefully as you flutter back into the living room to do just that.

You rush to the console table against the far wall and quickly begin shuffling things around to make space for your new possession, stacking books and knickknacks and sliding the clunky record player as close to the edge as you can manage. 

“Oh, uh..” 

Eddie smacks his lips once, eyes dropping from you to the gargantuan fucking wet patch stretched across his thigh. While he's reluctant to dig his own grave, he fears he has no other choice. 

“-Well.. To that 'm gonna have'ta say..” 

He swallows and gives a nod to himself in resolve, a burst of air pushing past his nose as he snatches his jacket from the floor beside the couch and uses it to shield the focal point of his embarrassment, avoiding looking back toward Robin completely. 

“Shit, uh.. Nope. No, sorry." 

Your movements falter at his response, an amused little smile tugging at the corners of your eyes as you regard him, “No?” 

You laugh, like you're waiting for Eddie to clue you in on the joke.   

Of fucking course Eddie had opted to wear a pair of light wash Levis for your date tonight instead of black. Because now? There is no way in hell you and Robin won't see the evidence of his predicament the moment it's no longer hidden behind his leather jacket. 

If you see the way he'd shot off in his pants like a horny teenager from nothing but a little bit of kissing, Eddie is certain he'll never get a second date ��� Not to mention the constant ribbing he'd be destined to get for the rest of his Goddamned life from everyone else.

There's no way that Buckley won’t tell Harrington — with the weird and questionably platonic friendship the two of them had fallen into at some point around the time they'd graduated high school. And Harrington will, of course, inevitably spill the beans to Dustin. And then Dustin's loud mouth would manage to somehow tell absolutely everybody else in Eddie's life. 

He is so fucked. 

“Yeah, sorry, I gotta bounce, actually-” Eddie fights back a cringe, bounce-? What the fuck is he even saying? “I, uh, I forgot I have a.. A thing.” 

He can't quite hold back a wince then, at the sound of his own excuse in his ears. He's usually a lot better on his toes than this, but he's fucking floundering all of a sudden. 

It's because of you — it has to be because of you. You and your pretty eyes that are slowly narrowing in confusion and maybe a little bit of hurt. You and your angelic little voice, pushing out with a soft, “Oh.” 

But then you're nodding, a weak smile pasting on your lips to cover that flash of sadness he'd seen. You tell Robin you'll be back to help her in a moment and walk Eddie to the door, arms brushing as your gaze remains focussed on the scuffed floorboards. 

You're being sweet, because of course you are. You thank him for a wonderful date, tell him you'll call him, even lean in to press a delicate little kiss to his cheek that Eddie definitely doesn't feel like he deserves. 

When the door closes behind him, it sends a rush of air hurtling toward Eddie smelling distinctly of you. Like your perfume, and the spice of the candle sitting on your kitchen counter, and the sweetness of your shampoo. The scent makes Eddie's head swim with regret and his cock twitch weakly in his pants. 

Yeah, he's definitely fucked. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

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

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

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

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

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

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

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k

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

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

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

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

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

PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..

[ NINE]  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you reading?”  

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

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

“Am I in trouble?”  

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

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

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

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

_ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__  

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

You find this to be very strange for several reasons.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__  

[ TEN ] 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” 

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

“Hi,” He says back.  

You smile.  

“What’s your name?”  

“Bachira,”  

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

“How old are you?”  

“I’m ten,”  

“Really? Me too,”  

“Do you know how to play soccer?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,”  

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” You tell him.  

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

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

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

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

“Not really. I’m just normal.”  

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

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

__  

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

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

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

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

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

__  

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

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

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

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

__ 

“So, you’re an omega?”  

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you like alphas?”  

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

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

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

“But do you?”  

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

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

“Then what about omegas?”  

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ ELEVEN ]  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__  

[ TWELVE ]  

You return to the classroom early after health examinations.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess what!”  

“Did you find out your secondary sex?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__  

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

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

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

“Does that bother you?”  

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Right.”  

__  

[ THIRTEEN ]  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.  

“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?” 

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

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

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

You’ve never seen him so angry.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** 

__  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__  

[ FOURTEEN ] 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buy something with it later.”  

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

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

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

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

“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”  

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

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

“New shoes, maybe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,” 

You shake your head, displeased.  

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am!”  

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

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

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

You blink.  

“Sorry?”  

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

“What a good question,”  

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

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

“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.  

“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.  

“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”  

“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”  

You pause.  

You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.  

 You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”  

“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“  

Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.  

There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.  

 Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference. 

“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,” 

Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.  

“Didja miss me?”  

A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.  

“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.  

“Rude!”  

Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.  

__  

[ FIFTEEN ]  

“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”  

Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.  

He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.  

His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.  

But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.  

“You’re home late,”  

“I had student council,”  

He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.  

“You’re in student council? Since when?”  

You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”  

“Then are you in other clubs?”  

“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”  

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…” 

You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”  

“You heard all of that?”  

You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”  

“It didn’t scare you?” 

“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”  

His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”  

“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”  

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.  

He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?” 

He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?” 

“Uh-huh.”  

“Got any plans?”  

“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”  

He makes a face at you. “That brat,”  

“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”  

“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”  

“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.  

“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”  

“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”  

“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”  

__ 

“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”  

Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.  

You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.  

You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason. 

You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”  

“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”  

You shrug indifferently. 

Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.  

A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.  

Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.  

Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.  

So after summer break, the two of you started dating.  

It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.  

Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.  

It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.  

Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be. 

“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”  

“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.  

“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”  

“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”  

There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.  

Sometimes.  

You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”  

He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”  

“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”  

“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.  

“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”  

There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.  

“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”  

You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.  

“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.  

“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”  

He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.  

__  

[ SIXTEEN ] 

On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.  

You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.  

When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.  

The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.  

The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.  

He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.  

The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.  

The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.  

The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.  

He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.  

This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.  

It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.  

He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.  

You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.  

Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.  

He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.  

His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?  

You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”  

Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.  

What an incredible view.  

__  

(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.  

Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.  

A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.  

After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.  

You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.  

You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.  

“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.  

“I know you are,”  

His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”  

He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.  

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” ) 

__  

[ SEVENTEEN ] 

“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”  

You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”  

“Are you on the street in front of my house?”  

“Huh? Yeah, I am.”  

The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears. 

You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.  

“You ran here,”  

“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”  

“News? What about?”  

His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”  

__  

The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.  

You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.  

And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.  

It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.  

Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.  

It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.  

Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way. 

 Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.  

This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.  

Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.  

Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.  

But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.  

At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.  

“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”  

“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”  

You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”  

Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  

“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”  

You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”  

Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”  

You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”  

“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”  

You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”  

“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”  

You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”  

Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.  

He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.  

It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.  

“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!” 

__ 

You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.  

You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.  

You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.  

You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”  

You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.  

You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”  

“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”  

“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”  

You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.  

You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.  

“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.  

You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.  

Are you some sort of masochist?  

“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”  

Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.  

__ 

Hours pass.  

You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.  

You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.  

You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.  

He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.   

You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.  

“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.  

“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”  

“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”  

“Sorry.”  

He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”  

“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”  

“Really?”  

You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”  

“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”  

You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.  

“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”  

Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.  

“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”  

Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.  

Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.  

You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.  

You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.  

Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.  

You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.  

__ 

You don’t talk about it.  

When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.  

The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.  

Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.  

__  

The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.  

It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.  

You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.  

When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.  

You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.  

You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.  

In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.  

Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever. 

The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.  

The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.  

It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.  

He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.  

You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.  

He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.  

 You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.  

And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.  

So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied.  She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.  

You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.  

You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you. 

Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”  

“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”  

“Huh? Why?”  

“Because—“ 

You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.  

You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.  

Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”  

“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”  

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.  

“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”  

“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”  

“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”  

The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”  

You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.  

“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.  

“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”  

“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it. 

“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.  

“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”  

“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”  

“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”  

You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line. 

‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.  

__  

For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.  

Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.  

Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.  

Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.  

The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.  

Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.  

You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words. 

You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation. 

“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.  

Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”  

Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”  

Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”  

You blink.  

“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?” 

Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”  

“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”  

You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”  

Isagi smiles. “Sure.”  

You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.  

You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to  a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.  

Bachira is still Bachira. 

But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.  

What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?  

You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.  

You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?  

Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.  

It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.  

You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.  

What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you. 

Was he never going to tell you? 

Did he never trust you enough to tell you? 

That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe. 

The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?  

“Meguru,”  

You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.  

“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”  

You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”  

“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”  

“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”  

“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”  

You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.  

But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.  

You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.  

“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”  

“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.  

“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” 

Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.  

You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.  

“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?” 

Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply. 

__  

[ EIGHTEEN ] 

On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.  

Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.  

“Ah. Hello?”  

“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”  

You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”  

“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”  

“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”  

“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”  

You flush. “…I did.”  

She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”  

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”  

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”  

“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”  

“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”  

[gallaghersgal]

how do you think lip would go about aftercare? i feel like he’s the type to be like ‘and that thing you did? soooo hot’ as you cuddle

oh 100% this is exactly what he'd be like. i liked this one sm i made it a little blurb for youuu enjoy nsfw 18+ just some vanilla sex and aftercare

lip holds you close as he thrusts up into you, planting his feet on the bed so you don't have to do any of the work. you may be on top but you're exhausted, having already reached three orgasms tonight. he clutches your hips as his mouth latches onto your shoulder. he sucks a mark into your delicate skin, then moves to whisper in your ear.

"so fuckin' good baby. be good jus' a little longer yeah? gonna- ah- gonna come," he tells you, fingers holding your hips with bruising force.

you nod, slumping softly over onto his chest and whimpering as his thrusts become sharper and more erratic. he's so good to you. with a deep groan and a smattering of kisses to your neck and chest, he comes undone. you feel him shake gently beneath you, thighs wobbling and arms tightening around you.

you roll off him, whining softly and reaching out with a slight smile as he lights a cig. he chuckles and ruffles your hair softly, to which you duck your head and bite his side playfully. he passes you the cig with a swat to your head, then rifles around for an old tee to clean you up with. you lay there, taking a long drag from the cigarette and exhaling with a soft sigh.

he kisses your thighs, your hips, your tummy, as he crawls up to lay next to you. he yawns and stretches, nimble fingers picking the cig from your lips and placing it between his own. propped up on one elbow he smiles down at you. he brushes your hair away from your face. "that uh, that thing you did. when you were on top of me?"

you laugh softly, tucking your head against his hip sleepily. "yeah? tell me babe." you say with a sly smile. you want to hear him describe it, loving the way he speaks so firm and confident about these things. the slight blush on his cheeks is perfect as he smiles down at you.

"when you stopped movin' so much, got all slow and just rolled ya hips, yeah?" he nods, lips quirking into a smirk as he blows smoke away from your face. "best fuckin' feeling, baby, jesus."

you laugh, loud and proud and take the cig from his extended hand. "was really fuckin' good f'me too."

end.

[nejiverse]

OH OH I HAVE SOME IDEA TO SHARE I hope ya don't mind this FLUFFINESS

How would think Aki react when their baby starting to kick around inside Reader's tummy?🥺😩💖👉👈

- Leafy 🍃

THEIR LITTLE ONE

[Hayakawa Family Series]

yes!! i love this idea so damn much, aki’s absolutely adorable here😌

cw: none

700ish words

Y/n hated mornings, for the sole reason that she felt even more yucky and groggy than before she was pregnant.

So when Aki decided to wake up his lovely wife, all he got was a bunch of barbaric grumbles....a cold sweat ran down the side of his face in slight fear.

"C'mon, we have a doctor's appointment today", he uttered softly, leaning down at the side of the bed and gently tucking strands of her hair behind her ear and out of her face. He wanted better access to her pretty features.

"In..a minute", she slurred out.

Aki rolled his eyes with a huff. "You said that the last 8 times".

"A minute..", she repeated, averting her head that was once facing Aki into her pillow.

"I guess the hot bath I prepared for you is gonna go to waste, what a shame", Aki sighed and stood straight up again, peeking through his peripheral vision to see if his comment had gotten any reaction out of her.

"Nice try—".

"Correction, hot bath with bubbles", he added which made the woman peek an eye out from the pillow.

Aki had a smug look on his face, making Y/n chuckle to herself. He was very much exploiting her love for foamy baths.

"Fine..", she playfully rolled her eyes and extended her arms out to him. "But help me up first".

He did as she said and kept a hand around her wrist, leading her to the bathroom.

Y/n brushed her teeth, her lids barely able to stay open. Aki came up behind her and snaked his arms around her body to support her tired and wobbly figure, admiring how she completely melted into his touch.

One thing Y/n needed to give Aki more credit for was that he always knew what to do depending on her mood, and the fact that he remembered back hugs were her favourite in the mornings made her really really happy.

Once Aki helped her into the bath, he went out to get a towel (he forgot to bring it in).

He decided to clean up around before heading back to his wife, it'd only take a few minutes. It really irked him when things weren't where they were supposed to and untidy.

Quickly, the apartment was spick and span. The last thing he had to do was vacuum a bit—

"AKI COME QUICK!".

The sudden shout of his name made the man's shoulders jerk up as he made haste to the bathroom, his brain only assuming the worst.

Aki abruptly opened the door, gasping for air as he was met with a smiling Y/n who gestured for him to come closer.

“You gave me a heart attack”, he sighed, shaking his head as he approached her.

Y/n smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I got excited..but gimme your hand!”.

It was an odd request but nonetheless he did so.

He crouched down next to the tub and the woman placed his outstretched hand onto her protruding stomach that was slightly submerged in the water.

“She’s kicking!”, Y/n exclaimed.

Once Aki felt little kicks against his palm, his pupils visibly dilated as the feeling felt so foreign to him. To say the least, he was simply in awe. He never knew such a thing could happen during pregnancy and it made him feel as though he was physically touching his little girl.

“Does…does it hurt?”, Aki inquired.

Y/n shook her head. “It just a bit ticklish, that’s all”, it merely felt like a flutter against her belly. “For now that is”, she frowned. As she got bigger she’d start throwing harder kicks.

A sweet smile tugged at the sides of Aki’s lips as he placed a kiss right on the spot she was kicking.

“I can’t wait to finally meet you”, he spoke under his breath.

Hayakawa family series masterlist :)

A/N: Aki is the loml in case ya’ll didn’t know 🤭

[dckweed]

Sooo glad you posted a second part of the Jakex best friend baby story. A huuuge hug for you =) so in a matter of fact I squealed a bit as I read that you're accepting requests for this story. So I would have an idea, maybe you like it, if not I'm still going to read EVERYTHING you write =)

I'm thinking of reader is feeling off for days, like feeling dizzy and stressed out. The nausea is also taking a toll on her. One evening at the Hard Deck with the whole squad a woman is approaching Jake... Unfortunately it's his ex girlfriend. She immediately flirts with him and making the reader really uncomfortable. Jake tries to get rid of his bitchy ex by showing off reader and introducing her to his ex. She's already sporting a small bump, which his ex notices. Later reader goes to the bathroom, not feeling so hot, but Jake's ex follows her and corners her at the bathroom insulting reader for being a slut, being pregnant and stealing Jake, absolutely stressing the pregnant woman out. After her harassment she leaves the bathroom leaving reader alone. The whole situation worsens her feeling sick and she collapses in one of the stalls.

Just need some huuuge whump and Jake and the Daggers being protective. Maybe you can use some of my ideas.

P.S.: it's so brave that you share your personal story here with us. You're a strong young woman. I belive in you!

hiii thank you for sending this in! absolutely love the idea! and thank you so much, i feel like eating disorders and the struggles that come with them aren't something thats spoken of enough and i really would like to bring awareness by sharing my own story :) so, if anyone has any questions about that, feel free to send them in ! I'm here to advocate and be a voice..if you think you have one or know someone who does and dont know how or where to get help, i got you, if you're wondering how to cope with symptoms, i got you!

in the meantime however, i give you my comfort loves, jake and babygirl! please feel free to send in any requests, comments or thoughts that you may have for this particular series ! and in lieu of halloween, this is officially halloween themed.

p.s. how are we doing today? are we hydrated? have we had a snack or two? this is your reminder to go do both if you haven't already! also does someone want to possibly make a boodboard for jake and babygirl?? full credit would go to you in every post if i use it !

warnings: elusions to sex and actual soft sex mentioned and described as well as cockwarming briefly mentioned, pregnancy, fainting, hospitals, grown adults bullying essentially

the babygirl series part three, part two here

BABYGIRL, the playlist

INSECURITIES. jake 'hangman' seresin

Your breathing was even as you layed on your back, one of your legs caught between his. The NAVY tshirt you were wearing (his navy tshirt) rode up to rest just beneath your glorious breasts with your arms raised up, one tucked under the pillow next to your head, the other laid across his chest, your tummy on full display. You had been with him for just over a month now, having extended your two week vacation indefinitely. He knew you two would have to fly home sometime soon, to pack up the things in your apartment and eventually make your way over to your families ranch's to let them know what was going on, but he didn't want to think about that, not now when had what felt like all the time in the world to admire you.

Your stomach rose and fell with every breath and almost instinctively he finds his hand resting there, thumb rubbing gently back and forth over the small but slowly growing more prominent baby bump you were beginning to sport. You had been shy about him doing that, and he knew that it was because in the back of your mind, that little baby growing in you hadn't come from him, but if you asked him, that little girl in there was his, even without the Seresin blood. He hadn't ran away or called you names when you had told him, infact, it had only drawn him to you more. You were his, and so was the little miracle you were growing and he wasn't afraid to admit it either. Hell, he had gone that night to the Hard Deck, a dopey grin on his face as he walked in with your hand in his and had announced it to the entire bar, happily telling his friends and Penny about the bun in your proverbial oven. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

You shift after another moment, a small groan coming from your throat as you turn towards him, head pressed against his chest now. He presses a content kiss to the top of your messy hair adjusting you so that his arm was under you now, holding you against him. The bedroom was still dark but sunlight was slowly starting to seep through the small slit in the curtains, lighting up a small patch of the floor and the bed. He wondered if he should get up and open the window for you, maybe brew a pot of the decaf coffee he'd immediately switched you to when he found out about the baby.

He's about to decide against the thoughts, not wanting to wake you, not when you were sleeping so soundly after having a rough week of being sick and uncomfortable, you beat him to it though, your soft whine reaching his ears. "Mornin' babygirl.." He says, southern accent more prominent in his gruff morning voice. A smile spreads across his lips, as easy as butter glides across toasts as you lift your head up slowly, sleepy eyes meeting his before planting a long and slow good morning kiss on him. "You were sleeping so good, i didn't want to wake you up.."

You hum, trying to gather your sleepy wits about you, even though it had only been a month, jake was usually the only thing you noticed in the mornings, his warmth and love completely enveloping you, the only thing your mind could register besides the nausea usually rolling in your tummy, so it took you a moment to fully wake up.

After a few minutes of snuggling into your boyfriend, his hand rubbing your belly almost soothingly, you decide that you don't feel queasy enough to run to the bathroom right away (a godsend, really) and you shift yourself so that you're sitting atop of him, legs on either side of his hips, comforter slouched around your legs.

He looks up at you with an amused smile, large hands gliding up your thighs to land on your hips, just underneath of the baggy tshirt you'd stolen from him. "Somethin' i can help you with?" He asks, sleepy southern drawl sending shockwaves through your body as the hands on your hips grind you down against him, you were still bare from the night before, the two of you having stayed up late together just making love to each other.

You were insatiable when it came to him, maybe it was years of pent up sexual tension, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just that you guys were so perfect for each other that you literally could not get enough of one another, whatever it was though, neither of you was complaining. You had never been more satisfied from just one single touch before, had never been left craving more of the person you were with until you had been with Jake.

"Have time for a proper good morning, fly boy?" You ask teasingly, already lifting the hem of your shirt to toss it onto the floor, which was where most of your clothes had been finding their home these days when it came to the bedroom.

"Keep it on for me, babygirl, want you to wear it while i watch you ride me," You hadn't even noticed that one of his hands had already been between your bodies, but he was sliding his cock out of his boxers and gliding you down onto it as he spoke, a sigh of pleasure already leaving your lips before you're even sunk down fully onto him. "Feel so good babygirl," He groans, already pussy drunk off of you.

His fingers grip tighter onto your hips as you ride him lazily, hips moving back and forth in a languid but pleasurable pace, his hips bucking up into yours softly. "Jake," You whine, hands planted on his hard chest, fingers curled into the coarse hairs that scattered there, he grunts in response as he thrusts up into you, his massive hands pulling you down to meet his cock with each one. "so full baby, feels so good jakey.." Your words only fueled his ego, his eyebrows furrowing as he pumps up into you, you were both still overly sensitive from the night before and he knew that he wasn't going to last long, and neither were you judging by the way your nails dug into the skin of his chest.

Jake furrows his brows deeper, watching your face contort with pleasure as he continues to slowly fuck up into your overly sensitive body, his own toes curling into the mattress as he tries to stave off his own orgasm, a feat proving much harder than he had originally thought with the noises that escaped you and the way your pussy felt clamping around him right then.. "..so pretty, babygirl, always so fucking pretty for me.." He grunts out, feeling the way you clench down on him, hearing the whine come from your throat as you cum, your thighs shaking on either side of him. "..that's it baby, thats it.." He says, not too far behind you. He cums as your body sags against his, his hands on your ass the only thing holding you steady as you bury your head in his neck, leaving small kisses along the top of his collar bone.

"..Do you have to go to work, baby?" You ask, lifting your head up to look at him, the pout that he had never been able to say no to adorning your lips.

You can't help but smirk a little as your boyfriend throws his head back with a groan, one of his hands snaking its way up your back. "Babygirl, i would give anything to stay home with you attached to me like this all day long," his voice is thick, that accent ever so present as he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear. "but i gotta go to work, we're running flight trainings today.." Though they were a permanent mission squad within the TOP GUN training academy, they weren't always training for missions and today was one of those days where they got to run flights with the newer admissions who all thought they were the shit. Otherwise known as, Jake Seresin Gets To Show Off day.

You groan and drop your head to his chest, listening to him chuckle at you before he kisses the top of your head. "Fine, shower with me?" You lift your head up, a playful waggle to your eyebrows that he just can't say no to.

"I think that can be arranged." He says with a smile, his arms wrapping around your ass to hold you as he swiftly stands up with you, making you squeal in surprise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him in fear of falling. Your ass meets the cold counter of the bathroom sink as he sets you down on it, peppering your face with kisses as he flips the light switch, making you giggle and smile that beautiful smile he loved so much. "Don't move."

"Yes Sir!" You chuckle, watching as he opens the shower door and steps in, turning it on. "Make sure its hot baby!" You instruct, practically feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head despite doing as you said.

"I will never understand you and the volcanic level of hot water you bathe in, how do you even have skin left?" He asks, voice serious as he walks over to you, stepping between your legs as he reaches behind you to turn the faucet on with one hand while the other reaches above your head, grabbing the bottle he'd seen you use every morning since you'd been with him.

"It's relaxing!" You argue, voice raising an octave as you try not to laugh at him when he suddenly splashes your face with cold water. "Excuse me for not liking to take an ice plunge every time i step into the shower," You cackle, causing him to start laughing as he brings his hands to your cheeks, gently rubbing them with your favorite facial cleanser. You hadn't even noticed him put it on his fingers, but it felt like he was massaging your face and it felt damn good. "You spoil me, you know?" You hum, relaxing into his touch, eyes closing. He could have lulled you back to sleep like that if he wanted to.

Jake grunts in disagreement. "I don't spoil you nearly enough, babygirl." He states, completely believing it. He wouldn't tell you but he was already planning how to ask you to marry him, he didn't need to wait a year, or even until the baby was born, he knew you were the one for him and he just couldn't wait to spoil you even more once you were his wife, and spoil the hell out of the little hellions you guys would have together.

After a minute he grabs a soft wash cloth from the drawer by the sink and wets it only a little, gently wiping the cleanser off of your face for you. The action of the thing was just so freaking sweet, and so fucking Jake that you didn't have the heart to tell him that you weren't supposed to wipe away the cleanser like that. It doesn't take long before the shower has steamed up the whole bathroom and he's helping you off of the counter before leading you into the shower, letting you step under the water first after he helps you slip his navy tshirt over your head.

You hum as the water hits you, your body relaxing as you feel his thumbs kneading the skin at the base of your neck, the spot where you tend to hold all of your tension. You lean back into him and just let the water wash over you, enjoying the closeness with him.

The pleasantness of the morning only lasts for a couple of hours, not too long after Jake leaves for work (with a kiss to your cheek and a smack to your ass) the intense feeling of nausea and a pounding headache that had been plaguing you with it for the past two weeks came crawling back, you thought you had been rid of it finally when you woke up feeling perfect this morning, but of course it was too good to be true. You're hunched over the toilet for hours, the breakfast Jake had been kind enough to make you crawling its way out of your stomach.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" You ask your stomach after a nasty bout of vomiting, and as if in answer, your stomach lurches unpleasantly, though you manage not to spew everywhere this time.

You seem to be fine for the rest of the day, though your head pounds and you sit in darkness until about the time that Jake gets off work, knowing he was going to be home and excited to head straight to the hard deck with the crew for Penny's Halloween party. You had been excited too, had even planned out your costume with him but god you hadn't felt this bad before, this was the most intense day of morning sickness that you'd had the entire time you'd been pregnant. You were tempted to call it off, send him on his own, but you knew he wouldn't go. He would stay by your side and take care of you, and you didn't want that, not when he had been so excited to show you off tonight.

Despite your better judgement you start getting yourself ready around the time you know he's getting ready to leave base, you know your timing is right because you get a 'be home soon babygirl' text from him a few minutes into your endeavor. You smile at your phone for a second, wondering how you got so damn lucky to be able to be in love with your best fucking friend in the whole world..

You're in the middle of painting your small but ever present swollen baby belly with safe, brown paint, standing in the full body mirror as you do it. You're trying to make it look as much like a bun as possible, which isn't as easy as it seems when you can't physically detach your stomach and lay it flat on a table to look at and paint like you could literally anything else. You hear the front door open, and his voice carry's through it's usual greeting. "In the bedroom!" You holler back. You hear something thump onto the floor (his duffle, probably filled with his sweaty khaki uniform and underclothes) and his boots thud down the hallway.

"Hey, Babyg-" You turn to face him as soon as you peek him and his dark green flight suit in the doorway, showing off the bun you were working so hard on. Thankfully, focusing so hard on something else had pushed your nausea and headache to the back of your mind, the least of your worries as you locked eyes with your grinning boyfriend. "That looks so good Babygirl! Look at you and our little girl all dressed up for Halloween.." He steps into the room, his smile lighting his face as he brings his lips to yours, before he can even kiss you though your nose scrunches up at the smell of him, sweaty and smelling like airplane fuel and oil.

You know it's coming before your stomach even lurches and you shove him away from you so hard he lands on the bed, a shocked noise escaping him as you rush into the bathroom, sliding in front of the toilet just in the nick of time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Jake rush into the bathroom behind you, crouching down with you to rub your back. You manage to wave him away as you heave and he seems to get the hint, taking a step back.

"You smell." You groan when you're sure you've finished, trying to find the strength to stand up and rinse your mouth out. Jake makes an offended noise in the back of his throat, but you shoot him a glare that tells him you're serious and it seems to shut him up.

"Right," He says, clapping his hands together as you finally stand up. "i'll shower, you finish getting ready if you feel like you're able to go..if not, we'll stay home and watch 90 day Fiancé or something.." He wouldn't admit it to you, but your reality show addiction had become one of his new favorite hobbies and he would be more than happy to spend the night in bed with you binging. Who needed a Halloween party anyway? "How many times have you done that today?"

"I'll be fine to go, that's the first time that's happened all day." You lie, sidling up next to him to rinse out your mouth, trying desperately not to breathe through your nose so you don't repeat the emptying of your already empty stomach for the tenth time today. You meet his eyes in the mirror, he's looking at you like he doesn't believe you. "Really baby," You smile, turning around to face him. You look up at the handsome man before you, trying your hardest not to breathe in his scent. "I'll be okay, just take a shower and wash all the airplane gunk off of you before it happens again."

He gives you a long look, green eyes searching your face for any sign that he shouldn't let you go tonight and just make you stay home instead, he really couldn't have cared either way about the damn halloween party, now that he had you, you were the only thing that he ever cared to spend his time with. "Okay," He concedes, ruffling your hair with his ginormous hand. You roll your eyes at the action, but your body relaxes despite feeling horrible about the lie. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

You pushed through the next hour or so, finishing your costume while Jake showered and got himself ready, eagerly talking about how the two of you were going to kick Phoenix and Bob's asses in the costume contest that Penny was hosting tonight, and how he was so excited to show you and the belly off and as you checked yourself out in the mirror, you were once again reminded of just how lucky you were to have Jake to love you and the little miracle growing inside of you.

You pushed through Jake cooking himself a quick snack, you even made it through the drive to the bar like a champ, driving his big ass truck all the way there while he lay in the back seat because he refused to take his costume off until after the contest.

You had been at the bar for a couple of hours, mingling with Bob and Phoenix for the most part, who looked adorable in their Buzz and Woody costumes, when you took a turn for the worse. You and the rest of the squad had gotten to the bar quite early to help Penny finish setting up and as it started filling up with other people from base and some of the new TOP GUN students you and Jake had somehow gotten separated and after a while of talking with Phoenix about doing a shopping trip and lunch date on her next day off you started to look around for him.

Jake was at the pool table, high fiving Bradley as he sunk a ball into one of the pockets, very obviously wining the game of pool he had been roped into with the new recruits. You cant help the smile that lights your face when he catches your eye, sending you a signature Jake Seresin smirk and a wink of his eye. You giggle to yourself, your heart feeling full of nothing but love and happiness when it came to him.

"God, you guys are so in love its honestly sickening.." Natasha mutters, rolling her eyes with a playful smile on her face as she sips her whiskey on the rocks. You cackle in laughter, pushing her shoulder gently as you leave her side and make your way over to Jake, you'd had enough of being away from his side for one night.

A couple of people move in front of you as you're walking, and you have to stop and say hello to Maverick, who had arrived stylishly late to the party. "You're glowing!" He had said, giving you a kiss on your cheek. He was honestly in complete awe of you and the affect that you had on Hangman, he had done a complete 360 since you'd gotten together and he couldn't thank you enough for it because he wasn't sure how to handle it some days.

You chat with him for a few moments before making your way to Jake, except when he comes back into your view this time there's someone else with him. A tall bottle blonde in a risqué nurses costume that was honestly probably lingerie, she had fishnet stockings on and mile high platform stripper heels.

She was the kind of girl that had always caught his attention before you.

She was the kind of girl you had always been underlyingly jealous of.

And that jealously came rearing its ugly head. Fists clenched to your sides you walked over to your boyfriend with a purpose, not even catching their conversation before you wrapped your arms around his always so toned and tight bicep that was sticking out of the arm hole of the costume he had spent time making himself.

"Hey Babygirl," He says immediately, turning his head to plant a big fat kiss on your lips, you could practically feel his body relaxing at your touch and that seemed to cause you jealousy to ease, knowing that he was being held hostage in the conversation. "Jessa, this is my Babygirl.." The woman in front of you looked at you with narrowed eyes and then looked down at your costumes, her eyes roaming from your painted pregnant belly to his oven costume and and then back again, it seemed like it took a moment for all of the wheels to turn but they finally clicked into place.

"We dated for a while, not that long ago..just wanted to come over and say hello." She says. "I had heard you were settled down but i didn't think it could possibly be true.." Her eyes never leave his as she speaks, batting her eyelashes at him as if trying to entice him.

Jake raises his beer bottle to his lips, glancing down to you as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well, I hate to break it to you but..its true.." You grind out, your queasy stomach returning as you catch a whiff of her strong perfume. "I'll be right back baby.."

You barely make it to the ladies room all the way across the bar before it spews out of you. You're hunched over the toilet for a good few minutes heaving and queasing and so focused on yourself that you don't hear bathroom door squeak open again, or the stripper heels smacking against the tiled floor that Penny thankfully kept in pristine cleanliness.

You don't notice the other presence in the bathroom until you've stood up and turned around, headed to wash your hands and try to wash the small bit of vomit off of your black shirt. You stop in your tracks immediately when you spot her, arms crossed over her outrageously exposed breasts as she stands with her hip popped, as if she were looking for a fight.

"I always knew he liked easier girls, but i never thought he liked actual whores." She states, eyeing your pregnant belly with clear disdain. "I'm not stupid, i can do basic math. He stopped calling me almost two months ago, way too soon for you to be thus far pregnant with his baby."

"..excuse me?" You utter, mouth watery again as you fought of what you hoped was just nerves and not another round of throwing up..you didn't think you could go 12 rounds today and still make it through the party.

The woman cackles damn near evilly. "The way Jake always spoke about his babygirl I thought she was this pure angel. Turns out she's a fucking whore." She shakes her head, eyeing once more. "You're not his type either, he really must fucking pity you if he's fucking you like this, the poor thing.."

You can't think of anything to say, you could barely hold your head up with how suddenly dizzy you were. As she turns to leave the bathroom, the door swinging open, the vomit spews out of you like lava spewed out of Pompeii and as you sink to the floor, trying to keep your own head up, too dizzy to see straight or use your voice or even think, you couldn't help but to remember the words that she had said..that he must have pittied you..that wasn't true..right?

Natasha noticed Jessa come out of the bathroom that she had seen you go into earlier, and maybe it was just because she was slightly paranoid but she felt like she needed to poke her head in and check on you, especially after she sauntered right back up to Jake and ran her hand down his bicep after you had very clearly made it known that she needed to back off.

"Keep an eye on Jessa," She says to Bob, catching her Wizzo's attention as she slipped off of her bar stool. "I'm gonna go check on Babygirl.." Everyone had taken to calling you by Jake's nickname for you, it was practically your God given name by this point.

"On it." Bob says, taking his Shirley Temple with him as he strides from the bar top to the pool table.

Natasha pushes people out of her way, the wings of her Buzz costume doing all of the work for her as she makes her way to the restrooms, pushing the door opening and entering sideways. She hears your moan before she sees you slumped in a pool of your own throw up, your skin paler than the flourescent lighting in the small bathroom and a small sheen of sweat on your forehead. "Holy sit.." She says, crumbling down next to you, taking your head in her hands. "Babygirl? You awake?" A slight moan is the only response. "Fuck...fuck.."

She doesn't leave your side, but she thanks God for having long legs because she's able to catch the door stopper just right with her foot and open it far enough for her voice to carry. "JAKE! BOB! SOMEBODY HELP!" You moan again, your head thumping to her chest. Her voice must be loud enough because there's a drawn out silence before a scattering of feet pounding against the hardwood flooring of the Hard Deck. "Call 911!"

Jake's heart drops into his stomach as soon as he sees you, his eyes widening. "What happened?" He doesn't bother to care about the emotional crack in his voice as he drops to his knees, Bob and Rooster right behind him in the door way. "Nat, what the fuck happened?"

"I don't know, she was like this when I came in - Jessa had just come out!" She says panicking because she had never once seen Jacob Seresin look so scared and vulnerable before. "She keeps moaning and she's sweaty..Jake what if it's the baby?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn't bare to think of it, he couldn't bare to think of how sad and broken you would be..he couldn't even begin to think of how to pick up those broken pieces if that were the case, so he didn't think about it. He focused on Bob's voice behind him, on the phone with the 911 operator.

"...17 weeks pregnant, semi conscious.." Bob spoke to the person on the other end, Jake had told them all this morning how far along you were, forcefully showing everyone the pregnancy tracking app on his phone screen. Bob had remembered because of how excited Jake had been.

Jake looked at you, your head in Natasha's lap and then glanced back at Bradley who's eyes were wide with fear, an exact mimic of his own facial expression he was sure. He remembered suddenly that Natasha had said that someone had been in here before she found you..Jessa.

He was on his feet before he had even finished having the thought, shoving past Bradley who had the wherewithal to dutifully follow him as he stalked down the hallway and into the main area of the bar.

"Jessa!" He thundered, the bar going silent. She wasn't hard to find, she was one of the few girls dressed like a hooker. "What the fuck did you do? Huh?" He asks, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Jake, back off man-" Bradley's hand is on his shoulder pulling him back. Jessa scoffs at both of them and rolls her eyes turning around.

"Not my fault the skanky trash can't handle the thing growing inside of her." She says to her group of friends, causing them to start cackling.

She was lucky that Nat hadn't heard her, and that he didn't go crawling back to the bathroom to send her out here to do what he knew she would have because just then flashing lights shined through the front windows of the bar. Paramedics had arrived.

"Oh now that's just fucking dramatic!" She groans to her friends as Jake walks away, causing him to turn back around to start yelling at her once more. Bradley spins him back towards the door though and he runs outside to rush them in.

When you come to you're scared out of your mind, the last thing you remember were the words Jessa had said echoing in your mouth. Your heart starts to race and you hear a monitor start to go off, there were things attached to your stomach and your arms and all of a sudden his hands were on your shoulder, weary eyes looking into yours.

"..jake? what happened?" You ask, your heart already starting to calm down and you realize that the monitor that was going off was attached to you.

"You were dehydrated, you passed out.." Jake says, pressing a kiss to your temple as one hand goes to rest on your stomach, right next to the fetal monitors. "Your OB says that it's from throwing up so much, says that you weren't getting in as much as you were getting out.." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the pillow, kicking yourself for letting it get that bad. "Why didn't you tell me it was that bad babygirl? You scared me shitless..you scared all of us..Nat found you laying in your own vomit..she came with me, wouldn't even go home to change..she's off hounding your doctor for more information.."

You process his words, hating yourself for putting your friend in that situation, for ruining the halloween party. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. "Is the baby okay?" Your lip quivers and tears begin to stream down your face. "Jake im so sorry baby, I thought I could tough it out, I didn't want you to worry.."

Jake sighs, kissing your forehead as he wipes the tears from your eyes, letting you know that the baby was okay, and that you would be okay too. That he was going to take care of you always, and his words washed over you completely, emptying your head of whatever doubt Jessa had temporarily placed in it.

taglist:

@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Night-Night (Part 2)

Word Count: 1.6k

Content Warnings: court, profanity, mention of abuse

Spencer tucked his white long-sleeved dress shirt into his classic black suit-pants. Although the occasion was unfortunate- family court- Spencer still looked cute as usual. He stood in front of his standing bedroom mirror, adjusting his tie around his neck. 

You slid your arms around his waist and tummy nonchalantly, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay. We already know how it’s going to end anyway- you’re getting full custody while she’s away.” You reassured your worried boyfriend, then spun him around to face you. “Plus, you look pretty handsome, not going to lie,” You grabbed his suit jacket from off the bed and slid it onto his arms. “There, perfect.” You cupped his cheeks to kiss his nose.

“I love you, y/n.” Spencer whispered, pulling your waist to press your hips against his. “So much.” He leaned in to kiss you, the quiet, hot moment stirring your stomach. 

You began to tug at his hair a bit, humming against his lips slightly as you heard little knocks wrack the bedroom door. You and Spencer turned around quickly to spot Beth in a cute dress, formal black, and her last court teddy bear under her arm. “We ready to go, Daddy?” Beth asked, swaying side to side with her bear. 

“Yes, baby. Y/n is just getting finished getting changed, but we can head into the car. Go put your shoes on for me?” Spencer asked Beth to be met with a compliant nod. She exited the room, closing the door behind her. Spencer grabbed your waist again, “You know, you don’t look too bad yourself, baby. This dress really suits you, and the heels.” Spencer gave you a quick kiss before pulling away, leaving you a lovesick mess as per usual.

“Of course it looks good, my boyfriend picked it out.” You teased, following him out of the door. 

Spencer locked the front door behind you and Beth, watching you carry his baby to the car and buckling her up. He’d thought about what you said, “You have a family.” He thought about it as he watched you care for her like your own. 

Eventually you turned around to see Spencer looking at you, “Come on! If you think I’m driving, you’re crazy.” Spencer chuckled, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“All ready, Daddy?” Asked Beth, kicking her feet in the backseat.

Spencer took a deep breath and started the car, “All ready, baby.” 

Spencer pulled into the parking lot outside of the court, taking one last deep, shaky breath. He couldn’t help but spot Beth’s mom’s car parked just a few feet down. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Spencer made his way around the car to unbuckle Beth and let her out of the car. As soon as he placed her on the pavement, her hand rose up to her eye. Spencer assumed she was blocking the sun from her face until she extended her hand to a point. 

“That’s Peter, Daddy. Peter’s never come with us before.” Beth questioned, clearly catching Peter’s attention because he sent an unreadable glance her way. 

You looked to Spencer. It had been less than five minutes- just in the parking lot- and Spencer was already sweating bullets. You asked the question Spencer didn’t want to. “Who is Peter, Beth?” 

“Mommy’s boyfriend. Just like you’re Daddy’s girlfriend.” Beth explained to you. Spencer was pissed. He noticed what Beth hadn’t- Peter’s fading black eye. There was no doubt in his mind who left that mark on him. 

Without saying a word, Spencer started towards the entry doors. You directed Beth behind him with one hand gently resting on her back. Inside, the court was crowded. The jury was full and the judge most definitely looked over it for the day. And Spencer’s ex-wife, well, she looked just about as thrilled as Spencer about this. 

You, Spence, and Beth sat all together across from Beth’s mom and Peter. Peter and Beth’s mother were questioned first. This was the part that sucked the most: poor six-year-old Beth having to sit there, listening to how her mother abused Peter. You handed Beth your phone, giving her a distraction. She nodded as she opened some game you’d let her download a while ago on your phone. 

You then turned your attention to Spencer, placing one hand on the back of his neck. Just as you did, you heard Beth’s mother’s shrill voice, “Why is that whore here?” She stood up from her chair shakily, pointing in your direction. Two things happened in result of this: Beth was no longer distracted and her full focus was placed on her mother degrading you meanwhile Spencer shot up from his seat instinctively. 

“Spencer, sit down, it’s fine.” You whispered to him, rubbing Beth’s back, lightly. Spencer refused to sit, though. 

You thought you might throw up as Spencer began to open his mouth, but was interrupted by his ex-wife, “She’s touching my daughter’s back! She’s sitting with my daughter and touching her.” 

You heard a small high pitched squeak come from Beth, like she was trying her best to suppress a cry. “Beth it’s okay,” You took your phone from her, then stood up beside Spencer, “Could we get her out of here, please?” You attempted to remove Beth from the situation.

The judge shot everyone down, sending a security guard to sit beside Beth’s mother instead. She ended the case with a final statement, “Due to the fact that this is your second offense, you will be facing up to one-hundred-fifty days in D.C. Women’s Correctional Prison. You may hug your daughter before leaving. Court adjourned.” 

One-hundred-fifty days, you let it sink in. That’s nearly five months without her daughter. No doubt, she was a shitty mother and an even worse partner, but five months without your daughter? That would kill you, and Beth wasn’t even yours.

Spencer didn’t seem to care much, though. Without saying a word to you, Spencer left the courtroom before you or Beth even could. You guess, he didn’t want to be a part of the goodbye. He didn’t want to see her touch Beth. 

That left you to walk Beth up to her mother, alone. Beth’s mother called after her, but something kept Beth at your side, attached to the skirt of your dress. Her tiny hands clung tightly to you as a tear rolled down her cheek. 

“Hey, Beth, if you can go be a big girl and say goodbye to Mommy, you’ll get a new teddy bear.” You attempted to bribe her in whatever way you could. Things would only be worse if she refused to hug her mother. Beth nodded, bravely, and made a quick run to her mother. 

Spencer’s ex held Beth tightly, shaking from nerves and what you were sure was also some drug withdrawal. The moment she released Beth, Beth was handed a soft, pink teddy bear, which she promptly kissed on the head. With a giggle, you reached out for Beth’s available hand and exited with her, like a proud mama who just watched her daughter survive a hard thing.

Laying in bed that night you could tell Spencer was in distress. The two of you hadn’t really talked much since he walked out of court and drove you and Beth home. Some lingering emotion tormented him and it was clear. 

“Spence? Are you okay?” You wrapped your arms around his chest and placed a small kiss on his cheek. 

He still smelled like that one cologne he wore to court this morning, light and woody. Spencer didn’t give much of a verbal reply, but more of a nod. You sat with that for a moment, with him. You knew something bigger was coming, he was just working up to say it. “I’m so sorry I just left you to handle the goodbye by yourself. God, I’m such a dick.” Spencer sighed, his chest rising and falling dramatically with his words. 

He was having a panic attack. Whenever Spencer had panic attacks they didn’t usually involve crying, just hyperventilating or unreasonable thoughts.

 “Baby everything was okay, she gave her mom a hug then got a bear. Then we left. No biggie.” You cooed at him, brushing his hair out of his face. You began to notice that this time there were tears. Little ones- but they were tears. You’d never seen Spencer cry so often. It killed you to see him under this kind of stress. “You’re not a dick, you’re a dad. You don’t like watching people hurt your baby, Spencer. That’s okay. That’s why I’m here, because I love you and I can handle it, really.” You assured him.

His breathing only seemed to pent up more though. You decided to sit up so you could peel up his shirt some, placing your hand underneath it and over his skin- his heart. He seemed relieved at the cool touch of your hand against his chest. Spencer began to inhale and exhale slowly, sucking the air in and blowing it out.

“Good job, Spence.” You told him, removing your hand and kissing his soft cheek. 

Spencer nodded peacefully before his eyes darted open, “Shit, what time is it? Beth needs to be asleep.”

Spencer sat up, nearly jumping out of bed before you shushed him, “I put her to bed already, it’s okay.” Relieved, he slid back into bed. “It’s okay.” You reminded him once more as he curled into your chest, placing a short kiss on your neck.

“It’s okay. Night-night.” Spencer repeated your words before dozing off on your chest, calm and sweet. 

[credince--writes]

Can we talk more about Captain Daddy? All thanks to @glossysoap and @sprout-fics pls and thx for unearthing these brainworms I can't get out of my head.

And i have very distinct vision for the double teaming taking place here. (and no, i know it isn't realistic, but that's half the fun haha)

Yk what under the cut

I can see them both on some form of leave lingering in Mactavish's shop, shooting the shit while looking at some kind of project they've been 'working on' for the last 5+ years (It's A) related to a vintage vehicle, or B) related to some kind of drift boat to go fishing out of and they much prefer simply sitting by the bank to fish). A long standing agreement between the two neither seemed to break off with the introduction of you into their lives.

Some minor transgression or outright game to get the blood flowing (I fully believe every Easter someones hunting the Easter Bunny- running around stark naked in a bunny costume- accept it isn't a costume. It's just ears, paws, and a bunny-tailed buttplug. And let's just say neither of the men could get the paws to fit on their hands.) A snarky little remark of this prefabricated game, the lines you know you can toe and that you know how to push Mactavish's buttons like nobodies business.

It's one of those snarky comments about maybe if you weren't too busy sucking eachother's dicks out there you'd have heard me come home, love. That has you in the situation you're in now.

Bent over one of the barstools tucked into your kitchen's little island, groceries forgotten and set down in their plastic bags on the countertop. Tummy down against the vinyl upholstery, you can help but feel the wood dig into your hips from the chair beneath you. the length of your legs make it so your feet can barely touch the ground. Even so Mactavish has your legs kicked out so far and a hand gripped in your hair that the only support you can muster for your upper body is sliding your arms down the wooden legs closest to you and just holding on.

Anything on your lower half already pulled down and discarded- all Mactavish has to do to confine you to this space is simply keep his left arm extended with the grip in your hair. Hips trapped between the seat and the tension forcing your back to curl down and around. The four legs of the chair holding you steady, regardless of the occasional creak if he leans his bodyweight into it. (this isn't the first time) The height of the chair also makes it the perfect angle to prop your ass up at a casual swatting level. Bare heat on display, he'll smack it until he's decided you've learnt your lesson (you haven't) or the wetness accumulates enough to glisten, smearing around your thighs with his "punishment".

It's not until the static of your headspace is interrupted by a second, large hand smoothing up your spine. Recognizing that docile headspace you've been reduced down too- boiled down fruit into a syrup, ready to spread across his dessert. Does he lazily pull his cock out, not bothering to drop his pants- bringing that warm hand down to your throat- up under your chin where his thumb and middle finger wrap fully around your face coaxing your mouth open, and feed it into the back of your throat.

He dosen't always move right off the bat- sometimes he'll wait until Mactavish slides a finger or three into that sopping mess and use the momentum of the fingers inside of you to fuck you against the chair and into the hulking mass of flesh before you- and down your throat.

Mactavish will chastise you, the bad cop of the bunch questioning why they should even entertain making you feel good when you're only a brat. Not until your whining and begging- with the Price seated fully down your throat, he likes the feeling of you struggling to speak- does Price start to combat it. Smoothing hands over your cheeks and hushing the whines coming out of your stuffed mouth. There's other things you need to be focusing on other than chatting, love.

The mouth-stuffed garble of 'Daddy' when Mactavish seats himself fully from behind, grabbing hold of the seat of the poor little bar stool before putting it's wooden frame to work.

Price simply leans against the countertop and inspects the stonefruit you'd selected when shopping- he forgot peaches were in season, he'd have to ask you how to make him that delicious cobbler you'd made last time he was over for dinner- when you were able to speak again. It wouldn't be any time soon.

[nerdieforpedro]

Can we talk for a minute?

Chapter 3 of "This is the Neighborhood Din" Series

Din Djarin (Modern AU) x Sierra Harris (plus size OFC)

This fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.6k

Warnings: Brief mention of injuries, awkward texting, HOA beef, boyfriends alert, that one nosy coworker, Grogu is adorable

Summary: Things have been a bit off between Din and Sierra, though individually they are doing well. Luke and Greef agree to disagree and our boyfriends are here! Dinner usually makes things better, maybe.

Notes: We meet more characters in our neighborhood or at least in Din and Sierra's orbit. I did my best with the teaching and mechanical engineering stuff. 👀 I did figure out how to make dividers finally! 😍

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin - The Mandalorian Masterlist/ This is the Neighborhood Din Series

Two days. Sierra hasn’t spoken to Din for two days. She’d mainly been hiding in her room. She’d actually seen more of Din’s son Grogu. Johnnie Mae and Sierra never spoke about the other night, she just helped change her bandages in silence. She felt bad for not telling the truth to her aunt. Johnnie Mae felt offended that Sierra thought she couldn’t tell her. She should be able to tell her anything.

Today, Sierra had to leave the house to go into the middle school she’s supposed to be teaching at. She’d done the background check, now it was ID photos and to meet the department head of the sciences to check in. Her hair is on top of her head in a tight bun with her favorite poppy red scrunchie in it, she made sure her edges were as flat as she could get them. She wore her brown flats, a navy blue skirt and a black button down shirt. She didn’t tuck it in to cover her tummy so she pulled her skirt up and over. It was a long sleeve shirt to cover the bandages, there were a few less thankfully but she didn’t need any questions of that nature at her new job. This is a new start. All of it is a new beginning.

“Good morning Ms. Sierra!”

A small voice called her name as she saw bouncing chocolate curls before seeing his cute little face. He was waving as his father stood behind him in a red Henley shirt, a sweatshirt tucked over his brown satchel and a gray lunchbox in his opposite hand. Grogu held his bright green lunch box with a large frog on it. He ran up to Sierra. “How are you? You’re going out today? You usually are working on a project in your room right? Miss Harris said it’s a difficult one. Good luck!” The sweet little boy said before heading over to his father’s black SUV. Din nodded and his son quickly puffed out his cheeks. “Daddy! You’re supposed to say good morning, manners are important right? Isn’t that what Uncle Greef says?” Din chuckles and turns to face Sierra.

“Good morning Sierra. You look pretty today. Something important?” He asked. He was curious about so much more, but it isn’t the right time to ask at 7:30 in the morning. She’s been avoiding him and he understands but he couldn’t help but wonder how she was doing after such an intimate moment. She doesn’t expect him to really put it out of his mind right? Sierra smiled and nodded.

“Yes. I’ve gotten most of my stuff set up at my new school so I’m meeting with the science department head to get a feel of what they’re teaching and how I can fit into it. I’m excited but also so nervous. I just hope it goes well.” In explaining, she touches her left arm, the worse of the two, she released it as soon as she noticed that Din looked down at her arm. “It’s a lot better. I…maybe in another week or two.” She doesn’t want to go into any detail, not with little Grogu here. She hoped he wouldn’t ask anymore, not right now.

“That’s great. And you’ll do an amazing job. They’ll be lucky to have you. Let me know how it goes tonight.” Din offered, he wanted to extend an invitation, a reason for them to talk. At least he would know if she was willing to. Grogu had opened the door and was up in the truck. 

“Daddy! We can’t be late! You made a wrong turn the last time!” Grogu yelled, making both Din and Sierra look over at the truck. Din waved and so did Sierra who hopped in their vehicles and drove off to start their days.

Johnnie Mae watched from her screen door with a grin. “Maybe I won’t have to do anything, ‘cept keep an eye out to make sure that bastard never goes near her again. Thank God they’re divorced.”

Greef Karga did not see himself as a difficult man. He felt he was fair as far as the leader of the Homeowners Association was concerned. Most people in the neighborhood conformed to the rules about grass length, approved colors on the siding and shutters. Even roof material. There was one thorn in Greef’s side. He thought it might have been the Djarin’s who he knew through some business dealings with metal supplies for different universities and labs. They’ve settled in well so far.

Luke Skywalker and his damn grass.

Luke Skywalker and his damn charcoal gray shutters.

Luke Skywalker and his damn trailer sitting in front of his house, gathering dust and rust.

Greef was walking toward the house in question, Luke was sitting in his usual spot on his porch, drinking his brand of liquor - Blue Space Milk.

“Hey Greef, what can I do for you today?”

Standing at the top of his steps, his hands were on his hips as he sucked his teeth. 

“You know what Luke. At the very least, the trailer that I’ve never seen you use. You don’t have any registered business that you can use it with.”

Luke chuckled as he took a swig of his blue liquor, some of it dribbled in his beard and wiped on the bottom of his tan sweater. 

“It’s on my property, I don’t see why you’re worried about it. There was just someone who moved in a few days ago. Clearly property values aren’t too bad. Like you keep claiming it would bring down prices.”

Greef rolled his eyes and sat down across Luke. “One thing Luke. If not the trailer, then the grass. I’ve seen three snakes in the last two weeks.”

Luke stroked his beard and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll think about it, if you buy me some more Blue Space Milk.”

“That shit is $100 a bottle and I don’t like your dusty, cranky, lazy ass. I’m not buying you a damn thing.”

“That’s a damn shame, Greef. I’m not doing shit.”

Greef snickered and stood up. “That’s alright Luke. I know someone who can motivate you. See you later.” Karga walked back down the porch stairs and threw Luke a thumbs up while the grumpy bearded man tipped his bottle toward him. Skywalker didn’t have the foggiest idea what Greed could be up to. He hadn’t been able to get him to comply with rules thus far, so he wasn’t worried about it.

Din watched as Grogu ran towards the double doors after giving him a hug. He’d be able to drop him off at school the first month, but after that, he needs to be at work at 7am and off by 4pm but thankfully in addition to being able to play with the other kids, Ms. Harris would keep Grogu for before and after school care. After making sure his son was safely in school, he pondered if he should send a text to Sierra. He did have her number for the other night but he didn’t know if it would be a bit much. They did at least speak today. He decided he would think about it more as he headed to work.

Sierra had finished her short meeting with the principal and was on her way to meet with the science department head. Things went well, the principal said that depending on how things went, next year, she might be able to join as a full time teacher instead of just subbing. Thinking about this morning, he’d reached out even though he didn’t have to. She honestly thought it was best not to speak to him, keep her distance. She believed that she had put way too much on him in their first meeting. But despite that, Sierra’s mind wandered to how he held her, how safe she felt, that he told her it was okay to be fragile. 

Thinking about it made her cry. Half the time she thought it was because he pitied her, but she thought about what he said and did. Asking if it was okay, apologizing because he thought he may have done something to make things worse. The care Din showed her in that one evening. Sierra needed time to accept it, that it’s alright. 

She arrived at the department head’s office and she was finishing up a call so she decided to send him a text. Opening her messages, she saw the cute pictures of Grogu and her aunt napping on the couch. Sighing with a soft smile, Sierra sent him a text:

Good morning Din. So far things went well with the principal and I’m going to meet with the department after her call. I hope you and Grogu are having a good day. Maybe you should come by for dinner tonight with Grogu. If you’d like. 

The department head got off her call and waved Sierra in. She entered with an extra pep in her step. She was taking another small step forward.

Din was in the middle of applying a concentrated torch to a sheet of aluminum alloy to see if by adding bronze to it would help increase it’s melting point and also be cost effective. So far, the temperature was up to 600 degrees Fahrenheit in the testing chamber as Din, Ray and Finn watched the experiment closely, taking notes. That way, it could be used to withstand temperatures needed for all sorts of applications. While bringing the temperature down, they discussed what they were going to eat for lunch. Din had packed his own from home, Ray did the same and Finn was waiting on his ride.

“I swear, he’s always late! He’s lucky he has all that curly hair and other attributes…” Finn’s voice trailed off as Din and Ray snickered. They knew exactly what Finn was referring to as it referenced his boyfriend. John and Mark, who’d helped Din move in, stopped by their lab to ask how things were going in the new house. Din said they were going well and that his neighbors were proving to be really hospitable. As they chatted, Rey chimed in asking about Grogu and school. Din said that it had only been a day but he was taking to it well, already having a friend in Quinton who they both originally met at Ms. Harris’ home.

“Hello good people! Have you seen an intelligent gentleman with a perfect brown leather jacket on?” A voice that they were all familiar with had them turning toward the door, with arms stretched out, only two buttons secured so all of his chest wouldn’t be out and bouncing obsidian curls with a bright white smile to match strolled slowly into the lab. 

Ray rolled her eyes hard and pointed to Finn who had stood up, picked up back and threw his arms round Poe’s shoulders. “You need to stop running late. I only have thirty minutes for lunch.” Poe kissed Finn’s neck and pulled back.

“I know, I know, but where we’re going has that coconut cream pie you love. Then I’ll make it up to you later.” 

“You naughty pilot you. Alright, let’s go.” Finn grinned and as he walked out, he popped a palm on Poe’s ample derriere. 

Din and company chuckled and went to his workstation. He let Rey chat with John and Mark while he went to go eat his lunch. He had a chicken sandwich with pringles and a strawberry applesauce cup that Grogu had stuck in his lunch that morning stating that he needed more color in his lunch and some fruit. He smiled at the applesauce and wondered if Grogu was having a good day too. He took out his phone and saw a notification and his eyebrows raised at the name: Sierra Harris. Din read it three times, trying to make sure there weren't any hidden meanings, there were not. He texted her back:

Good afternoon Sierra. Sorry for not seeing this earlier. I was working in the lab and I usually leave my phone at my workstation for safety. I hope things went well with the department head. They’ll make you full time by next year. We’d love to come by for dinner tonight. Let me know what time we need to be there.

Din sent it as Rey peeped over his shoulder. “Who’s Sierra? She’s met Grogu, that sounds serious.” Din closed his eyes and then looked up at Rey, annoyed. 

“You don’t have to be in everyone’s business Rey. Go back over to John and Mark. Nothing over here is any of your concern.” He stated flatly. Rey was a good colleague, though, but a busybody. He made sure that for the first two years of working with her, she didn’t know he had a kid. Of course when she found out, she took it upon herself to match him up with single moms and women into DILFs. A term he didn’t need to know about and was sorry he knew about. Rey took the hint and left him alone as he peered back at his phone. Three dots were rolling across the screen.

Sierra replied: Dinner will be at six tonight. I look forward to seeing you. What did you mean by safety? Do you work a dangerous job? My meeting with the department head went well. I start next week as there’s a teacher out with COVID. 

Um, is this a lot? This texting during the day? Since your job is dangerous, maybe I shouldn’t.

Din saw her delete the second message and he chuckled when she wrote:

You saw that didn’t you? How lame is that? It is too much, isn’t it?

His response was swift as he didn’t want her to spiral which to looked that was already in progress:

Texting me is fine. I won’t always be able to answer because I handle volatile compounds at work. That and I’m usually the one telling my co-workers to not be on the phone all the time. It’s not too much. Just type what you want to say Sierra.

Sierra could hear each message in the same comforting voice from two days ago. It made her smile as she leaned against her car, getting ready to head back home. She figured she would type it since he said to type what she wanted to say:

I didn’t say it the other night and I should have. Thank you so much for what you both said and did Din. That entire day for me was insane and I could only process so much. I should have said it sooner. I’ll explain better in person. I owe you that, tonight after dinner.

Din decided against telling her that she didn’t need to explain anything to him. He did want to know everything about what happened the other day and what led up to it. He’d only known her for a few days so he’ll take what information he can get.

You’re welcome Sierra. Tell me what you’re comfortable with. There’s plenty of time. I look forward to our sit down after dinner.

Din could kick himself…’sit down’? That sounds like she’s in trouble. Being team leader of these goofballs and Grogu’s dad might have rendered his vocabulary a bit lacking. Sierra only laughed at his word choice and got in her car to go home. She’s going to bake a cake tonight. It’s going to be special.

Chapter Two Chapter Four

Peeps who want to hang out with Poe and Finn: @readingiskeepingmegoing @604to647 @syd-djarin @yorksgirl @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @drawingdroid @katw474 @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @soft-girl-musings @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse @littlemisspascal @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

dog days are over (jake seresin epilogue)

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader (Sunshine)

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

A/N: So i thought long and hard about an ending and I do feel like chapter 11 could've been it but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging! I could do an extended epilogue with some smut or conversation about Jake's near death experience! (Also could write that scene of his near death)

Thank you so so so much for being invested in this story <3 please don't be afraid to reach out if you want to see smaller imagines of specific moments or things you would like to know about! I would love to keep exploring :D

You readjust yourself, small and smooth hands sliding up over his wrists. You tug him closer if that were even possible as your nose nuzzles against the apex of his throat behind you. Tucking your head further, you catch site of his fluffy locks, his chapped lips and you feel like you could cry. He stayed. “Good morning,” you clear your throat, butterflies erupting in your tummy and Jake presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, then to your flushed cheek.

“How’re you feelin?” the twang in his throat is thick with tension as you giggle, rolling yourself in his arms to stare at him. He pulls, falling gently onto his back to let you rest your chin on his strong pecks. Your lashes flutter as you search his face with a giddy gaze.

“Never been better,” you press a kiss to the skin beneath you, hot and taut. “You?”

“I haven’t slept that good in weeks.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you crack, giggling as he narrows his gaze. His jaw sets as he pulls you closer, melting your bodies deliciously together as his hips jut up.

“Are you being fresh with me?” His face comes millimeters from yours, breath washing over you as he growls.

“Definitely,” your eyes flash between his vibrant emeralds to his perfectly pink lips. “What are you going to do about it?” He searches your face, his tone sharp and his features soft as he stares back at you lovingly. He leans up, catching you in a breathtaking kiss. His lips move slowly, lazily against yours as his hand finds your face and cups your chin with a security you’ve never felt before. Your knees fall to either side of his slender waist, clamping down to press his length against your pelvis. You both make a noise, a delirious sound of want as you absorb each other’s auras and consume them for your own need.

 “I love you Sunshine,” he murmurs against your lips, large fingertips pressing into the flesh of your thick thighs before he bucks up into your clothed core. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

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[extollwest]

the lady and the cowgirl;

notes: inspired by the old west and rdr. a wlw drabble where a spoiled, aristocratic lady falls for meets a rugged cowgirl. cue the hot, lesbian sex or whatever (not actually, this drabble is very pure and super cute honestly!). let me know what you think!

The apple trees had begun bearing fruit that late summer evening when a young, well-dressed lady decided to make her home in the cool shade of their branches.

“Vivre d’amour et d’eau fraîche,” she whispered in broken French, lip curling in frustration at the sloppy attempt. 

Educated as the girl was raised to be, she despised foreign languages with a hot passion. Most attempts at learning them were futile and subsequently ended with tears of frustration.

A cool breeze swept through the orchard, kissing her rouged cheeks and mussing the bright green leaves above. They danced peacefully in the wind, rustling and crinkling in a beautiful, unified symphony.

Her back arched and hit the rough bark of the familiar tree, feeling it scrape against the soft linen of her dress. Her hand extended towards the sky, nimble fingers fluttering as the soft flares of sunlight trickled through her pale hand and down her face.

Something buzzed next to her ear, and she swatted it promptly with the back of her hand. The heat of August was bearable, yet certainly enjoyed to a lesser degree within the thick, bouffant layers of her formal dress that she half-heartedly agreed to wear that dewy morning.

In the less fortunate moments of her privileged life, she would grow painfully aware of the tight corset around her waist and how restrictive it was for her breathing. She would reach behind and untie it sloppily, letting the threads hang loosely against her back until someone ultimately reprimanded her for it. In the orchard, she didn’t have to hear anybody’s musings. Here she could forget her upbringing and legacy.

She kicked her leather boots off promptly and watched them fall into the tall grass with a soft thud. To her amusement, one of them had landed directly upright, and so she giggled loudly at the fact.

Her attention moved back to the leather-bound book resting peacefully against her tummy. She picked it up gently and skimmed through the delicate pages.

“Être né sous une bonne étoile,” she whispered hopefully under her warm breath, yet her tongue had already twisted uncomfortably and jumbled the words.

A red-hot storm began to bubble within her stomach, churning with a profound, uninhibited frustration that threatened to leap out of her lips at any moment. Instead, the young lady tucked the book closed, raised it over her head, and tossed it deep into the orchard with an exasperated grunt.

It landed within view, just between two thickets, open pages facing the azure of the afternoon sky. She sighed, eyebrows furrowed yet smiling, satisfied with her brazen impudence.

An intricate leather boot stepped out from among the rosebushes, followed by another. The lady’s gaze widened as it followed up the rugged, dirtied jeans, silver-clasped belt, leather-trimmed vest, and finally upon the worn face of an unfamiliar woman glancing down at her discarded book.

The lady froze in shock, scooting against the rough bark of the tree, deep enough for the texture to dig into her backside. Her eyes followed the woman’s movements fervently, curiously, fearfully. She leaned down and grabbed the book, skimming through the pages and smiling suddenly. It was an ugly smile, crooked and fit for a delinquent, yet earnest and uninhibited in how wide it appeared.

"Vous parlez français, ma dame?” she spoke through her grin, voice honeyed and raspy. It was a beautiful iteration, flawless and naturally flowing, yet it made the young lady’s blood curdle in horror. 

Their eyes met. The cowgirl’s eyes were sleek and cold, pupils like two oases entrapped in a sea of blue as she scanned down the lady’s vulnerable figure. Somehow, it felt like she could smell her fear, not only sense it; like a beast ready to pounce on its prey.

The girl’s throat went dry, hands fumbling with the thick skirts to reach a makeshift strap of leather on her thigh that harbored a crude, dull blade. She grabbed at the carved handle, yet her breath hitched when it stuck firmly within its holster, refusing to budge.

Suddenly, there was laughter, hoarse and gritty: a kind of powerful belly laugh that the lady hadn’t heard since coming of age.

“I don’t want no trouble, little lady. Just felt curious as to who would treat a book with so little respect like that,” she spoke calmly, seemingly unaffected by the girl’s attempt at defending herself. 

“And what’s it to you? It’s just a book,” the lady responded defensively, the grip on her knife loosening and falling to the side. She watched as the cowgirl’s honey-brown locks fell upon her sweat-slick forehead, peeking from under the wide-brimmed hat perched on her head. She smiled again, revealing a row of crooked teeth.

“A book’s never just a book. It comes embedded with a piece of someone’s soul, see?” she spoke brightly, raising the open book and tapping two fingers against the text. “Hand-printed, glued together, too. Someone out there took time outta’ their day to make this for you, blood, sweat, and all that.” 

She took a step forward, glancing at the discarded boot in her way, and kicked them to the side with her own pair. Then, she looked back up, a glint in her blue eyes. “Toss one of these away, you’re tossin’ out a piece of someone's soul with it."

[impishjesters]

Under the Weather

Rhett (tadc OC) x Sick Reader

warning(s): none, just sweet cute shit A/N: I forget how we got on the topic, but my friend and I were chatting about a sick reader and Rhett feeding them soup and this... was just so fucking funny to me I had to write it. His first debut and I'm already bullying him, I'm sorry my dear. (Also hehe, the reader got a lil virus, you poor baby)

“A-a-achoo!”

A dribble of snot ran down your face and was quickly wiped up with a tissue. “I know you caught a little bug, but I’m starting to think it might be a bigger bug than Caine anticipated.”

“Nuh-uh..” You sniffled, gently batting his hand away to take the tissue. After blowing the gunk away and bundling the tissue up, Rhett extended his hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust at the idea of putting your snot-filled tissue into his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Rhett looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. “Clearly.” You gave a weak swat to him and he easily caught your hand, stealing the icky tissue and tossing it in the bin. “How about you lay here and rest, and I make you a nice bowl of hot soup, yes? It’ll help soothe your throat, give you something light in your tummy, and help get all that icky snot out.”

Some soup did sound pretty good right now. You aren’t sure about how well it would help. The bug part was quite literal after all, so unless that soup had some magical bug-be-gone data in it, it wouldn’t do any good. But your boyfriend was being such a gentleman and it was clear as day that he wanted to take care of you—like he always did.

Maybe you’d humor him this one time and let him pamper you.

“Okay,” his center eye widened in surprise, you usually put up a fight.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“You can make me some soup and I’ll lay back and rest.”

The pupils in two of Rhett’s eyes turned into hearts, doing a silly little side-to-side dance before returning to normal. It was weird when you first saw it, his eyes acting so independently from one another—as if they had a mind of their own. Until it happened again, and it only took a bit of piecing together that it was a happy reaction.

With a lack of face to show his emotions, his eyes would quite literally be the windows to his soul—and emotions.

You still aren’t very proficient at reading him very well though.

He moved the tissue box closer and pulled the blankets up and under your chin, tucking you in. “I’ll be back before you know it.” The lower eye closed as he leaned down, giving you his version of a pseudo kiss.

Rhett left, leaving you alone in bed with the lights dimmed.

You drifted on and off until the sound of the door woke you up, your boyfriend’s body creating an unsettling headless shadow that nearly startled you. Still getting used to that.

“Ah, I’m sorry did I wake you, dear?” One hand held a bowl of soup while the other closed the door behind him before making his way toward your bed. “I tried to be quick, but you know Bubble trying to help only to further prove a nuisance.”

A hoarse little giggle left you before making you cough. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

He set the soup aside and sat on the bed, fluffing pillows up behind you before helping you settle into them. Once you sunk back into the pillows he simply sat there for a moment, taking in how cute you looked before snapping out of it. Right, soup first, admire later.

Rhett grabbed the soup, stirring it before lifting the spoon full of broth. A classic chicken noodle soup, if your nose can be relied enough on to go based on smell alone. He held the spoon up ready to blow on it and froze, was something wrong? You whisper his name, throat too sore.

The spoon was placed back into the bowl and brought back up, he froze again and all several eyes stared intently at the spoon in hand. Each eye was wide, staring at the spoon as if it threatened to kill his dog.

“Rhett…?” He was starting to worry you now. “You don’t have to feed me I can—”

“N-nonsense..! It’s still hot after all.” he cleared his throat, central eye focused on you while the other continued to stare intently at the spoon. “I-I’m sorry my love, I.. I seem to have made a slight miscalculation.”

“Miscalculation?” You sat up slowly, using the pillows as a crutch, and glanced at the seemingly normal bowl of soup. “What’s wrong with it? Did Bubble do something?”

“N-no..” Rhett shifted uncomfortably when your gaze moved from the soup to him. Lowering the bowl to his lap he looked away in a way that could only be conveyed as nervously. “I wished to feed you the soup but.. it’s hot..”

“Well yeah,” you grumble, clearing your throat. “It’s soup, fresh soup… it’s gonna be hot. I don’t—”

Hot soup. Feeding you. His words repeat in your head again and again, he wanted to feed you but it was too hot—oh. That poor baby couldn’t blow on the soup.

“I-I can feed myself, it’s okay!” You push forward and reach for the bowl just for Rhett to pull it just out of reach. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Really.”

Rhett doesn’t look at you, in fact, none of his eyes are looking remotely in your direction. He didn’t think this out—he of all people didn’t have the foresight to realize the error in his romantic gesture. He failed to take into consideration that with no mouth it meant he couldn’t simply blow on the hot soup before feeding you every spoonful.

While Rhett was having his moment, you cautiously took the bowl from his hands and set it on the side table. One eye flicked to you before immediately looking away, okay so he was slightly aware despite having his little realization.

He moved before you could, turning his back to you and face-planting directly into the bed sheets. You expect his groans to be muffled but they aren’t, he’s just groaning and muttering to himself along the lines of ‘how stupid’ he is.

It’s a little dramatic but he is a romantic. So he puts his heart into everything when it pertains to you or the ones he cares about. But you can’t help but find a bit of joy in his torment, the usual big-hearted gentleman reduced to whines and groans all because he couldn’t blow on your soup.

What a fuckin goober, god you love him.

“Rhett… Look at me.” He groaned, refusing to move from his little self-pity moment. “At least give me one eye?” Another groan but this time one of his eyes looked your way. It was creepy watching the eye completely rotate around like that, at least he did what you asked.

“You know I don’t think less of you for this right? Not being able to blow on my soup, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I know dear, I just—it was such a perfect plan. Spoon feeding you soup until you were full, then watching you get sleepy with a full tummy.” Was he describing a kitten or a person? “Then I’d just climb in bed with you and hold you close and keep watch while you rested. It was supposed to be perfect,” he whined.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of the singular squinting eye judging your eye-roll. “So one little thing went wrong, I can still eat the soup on my own—” he whined, “fine you can feed me, I’ll blow on my soup and we can cuddle afterward. It’s not completely ruined.”

Rhett lifted his head slightly. “It’s only ruined if you let it be ruined.” You added.

“Fine… I suppose that’s an acceptable agreement.”

A convenient tickle hits your throat causing you to cough, Rhett leaps up nearly knocking you back in the process only to steady you. “I’m sorry, your throat must feel awful. Here.” The soup is back in his hands in no time, by this point the soup should’ve cooled down enough to render blowing on it pointless.

The first few spoonfuls are consumed messily, Rhett wiping up every dribble with a napkin before carefully feeding you more. By the bottom of the bowl, you felt stuffed, the soup was light, more focused on the broth than the noodles and you were grateful for it.

He gave your mouth another gentle pat of a napkin before setting the bowl aside. You lied down with his help, getting snuggled under the blankets before patting the spot beside you. Rhett hesitated before removing his shoes, slipping under the blankets with you.

You let him get comfortable before practically draping yourself over him, laying half on him with your leg thrown over his. He made your bed look tiny with his taller body, but managed to easily lift you and scoot himself further into your bed. If you were going to use him as your mattress he wanted to ensure that neither he nor you would risk falling off.

Not that he’d let you of course. You were going to rest and he was going to keep a vigilant eye—eyes, out while you rested.

Rhett let a hand idly rub at your back, his central eye gazing down at you. “Rest easy my dear. You’ll feel better in no time.”

[pink-whiskey-woman]

Black and Blue

It was a cool crisp November evening, the kind that didn’t quite signal fall but one that made it seem like summer had extended. It was the evening of the police department annual gala benefit, an event Tim hated to go to but went for the camaraderie and in his words “ to show off my beautiful girl” After getting showered and ready you came down the stairs to find Tim looking absolutely delicious in a black fitted tux, crisp white shirt and black tie, his hair slicked back. His cologne permeated the air faintly and he had that shit eating grin on his face as you finished your descent slightly teetering  on your heels, cocktail dress hugging your frame seductively with a knee high slt and in a turquoise color. You gathered your clutch and added one more swipe of berry lis and out the door you two went. Driving to the event Tim’s hand never left your thigh softly caressing it up and down and the goosebumps building on your arms as the slight pool of arousal pooling inside. After a short drive to the reception space you valeted your car and walked in. Chatting aimlessly with Tim;s coworkers meant the dinner would hopefully start soon and you could escape into eating and away from the pointless chit chat. You enjoyed these events for Tim's sake but hated small talk and the fake niceties with the other wives and girlfriends. After a lovely meal of filet mignon and mashed potatoes dessert was presented a berry shortcake with extra whipped cream. “My favorite!”, you squealed softly as you tucked into the soft cake and berry sauce, whipped cream stuck on your lipstick. Tim turned around and kissed it off of you, that glint in his eye that gave you every indication he was ready to get out of there and go back home and enjoy you as his dessert.  You put your spoon down and grabbed your clutch, said your goodbyes and hightailed it outta there. On the drive home you put the windows down letting the wind blow your hair and the sweet smell of lavender drift in. Tim unloosened his tie and the mere thought of that sent your insides into a tailspin. The moonlight glinted off his face highlighting his strong nose and jaw, the silver streaks in his hair and you just sat quietly and admired how handsome he was. You couldn’t wait to get home and just let him ravish you. Not more than 5 minutes passed and you pulled in your drive practically dragged over the drivers side and out of the door by Tim.  You got in and headed upstairs to your bedroom. Tim tossed his jacket off, unloosened his tie a little more and rolled his sleeves up, his strong forearms peeking out. You kicked your heels off and turned around to find Tim sitting on the edge of the bed, legs slightly parted for you to step in and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. “You looked so sexy tonight, why did you want to leave so early”?” “ As soon as I saw you come down those stairs I knew I had to get you home so I could get you out of that dress as soon as possible” he whispered in your ear as his massive fingers toyed dangerously with the zipper at the back of your dress. You turned around facing away from him as you felt him stand up his erection hard against your lower back as Tim slowly unzipped your dress and ghosted his lips over your shoulders and back.

The zipper stopped right at the small of your back and Tim bent down to kiss the spot right above where our panties started sending shivers down your spine and fire in your insides. He slipped the dress off of you and let it pool to the floor, a shimmering reminder of what secrets lie beneath which were a teal lacy bra and matching thong covering the parts of you Tim loves the most. As you slipped the tie off of his neck you slowly and deliriously unbuttoned the remaining buttons on his shirt trailing kisses over his collarbones and strong chest and soft tummy, the dark trail of hair to his manhood leading the way for your lips to go. Tim unbuttoned his pants and kicked them off along with his boxers, liberating his love stick from its prison. He backed you to the bed and pushed you on it softly, his cock already a shade of crimson and weeping precum. You took and swirled your finger over it and into your mouth tasting the heady salty mixture. You scooted your way up the bed and onto the pillows. Tim braced himself over you resting on his arms, his biceps full and flexed and thick and kissed you deeply and hard. He grabbed his tie and restrained your wrists over your head as he tickled his lips against your jaw, your collarbones and down your chest to your breasts thumbing and rolling your nipples until they became hard pebbles and making you squirm underneath his broad big frame. He continued his lips down your soft stomach until he reached the top of your mound.  You closed your eyes and felt his mustache tickle your skin raising goosebumps on your flesh. He dipped his head lower and swirled his tongue against your cit and one finger pumped in slowly and each finger thereafter added until he was three fingers deep pumping you and sucking on your clit like it was his jb. He pushed himself off only for him to lift his hips up enough to where his raging hard cock was in your mouth. Lips parted he eased himself in slowly as your tongue swirled against his head and shaft inch by inch descending down your throat until he was inside fully, tears pricking your eyes and drool puddling in your mouth as you tasted how delicious your husband was. He eased himself out slowly and returned to sucking and biting your cit releasing orgasms one and two from you as the fire continued  to burn inside you. Tim released your wrists and flipped you on your stomach ass in the air just like he liked it and began to ease himself into your dripping folds. The thrusts started off slowly and you could feel each inch stretch and fill you as your moans began getting louder and escaping your throat. His hips canted and he began pummeling into you at a deeper pace pushing you down further into the mattress as his cock was hitting you at angles and spots  you didn’t know existed. The moans turned into screams of faster and more that were getting choked out of you as his fingers dug into your hips as he began thrusting harder. “ Baby, I’m so close” you stuttered out through mangled screams and an errant tear or two. You could feel the lava boiling inside of you and Tim's thrusts were kissing your sweet spot in a way he never had before and as fast and blinding as it was you released all of your guts like rainfall over hs cock, your sheets and his thighs. Tim continued to thrust and shortly after wrapped his free hand around your waist chest melting into your back as he released inside of you his thick cum painting you like a mona lisa on canvas. He finished and gently eased out of you curling beside you and kissing your neck. You rolled over to face him and kissed him sweetly, this tough as nails man who would do everything in his power to please you. No words needed to be spoken, you got up cleaned off and nestled your sweaty sticky naked bodies next to each other, moonlight pouring in the windows as you both fell asleep in each other's arms and ready for the moonlight to allow you both to succumb to each other's touch once more.

as always love to my sluts @sparklefarts38 @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotoninreplies@magpiepillsjunior@redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot

[puffy-fluffy272]

Since you mentioned EVE, how about M-O?

Omg, M-O is too darn precious! I'll gladly provide some headcanons! He's one of my favorite WALL-E characters, after all! It's canon that the bots of WALL-E have sensors (EVE was tickled two times in the movie), so it's possible that M-O could be ticklish as well.

M-O would be ticklish on his neck, under his arms, and definitely his little tummy!

I mentioned his neck since he can extend or lower it so that his head can fit into a specially made spot on his body. That little neck of his would be really darn sensitive, and he'd definitely tuck his neck in to avoid the tickles. His belly is always exposed, and it's just open for tickle attacks, so I suggest you get him there as well!

M-O's laughter would probably be one of the most adorable sounds you'd ever hear. It would be high-pitched digital laughs, giggles, and squeaks! He'd definitely be laughing up a storm if you managed to get to his neck!

M-O being a stubborn little neat freak would probably hate being tickled. He wants to focus on his job, and this would just slow him down. Maybe on rare occasions, he'd enjoy it when he's not busy. M-O would swat at you with brush and angrily curse at you in robot languages when he has had enough. Maybe even try to clean you out of spite.

Now, as a ler, M-O would be perfect. That cleaning brush attached to his arms would definitely tickle if he were ever to use it on you. Especially since it vibrates. If you were ever covered in dirt around him, you better run! He'd chase you forever if he could. Once he finally catches you, he'd snicker and giggle to himself as he cleans you up. He won't stop until every part of you is clean

M-O would eventually find out that you're ticklish and would use this against you during cleaning. He'd tease you by running his brush over your sensitive spots for a moment with the vibrations off before pulling away and giggling evily. Then, without warning, he'd full-on clean you with the vibrations on, and you'd be a laughing mess on the floor. Your reactions amuse him, and he finds it cute! Over time, you two will develop a friendship, and he'd continue to go after you whenever you're dirty and would make sure to tease you the whole time.

[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Love At First Sight

Two posts in one day! Day 10 of flufftober: Love of my life. Read it here on Ao3

There’s something about running as the last light fades from the sky in the summer that Buck just loves. The air is still warm despite the sun having disappeared and Buck is covered in a light sheen of sweat. His usual running path through his local park is empty and Buck takes advantage of having the path to himself.

It’s on his second loop of the park does Buck see something amiss. As he approached the park bench that overlooked the small man-made pond, he noticed something that hadn’t been there on his first loop. Slowing his pace, Buck squinted.  

It was a baby carrier.

Frowning, Buck looked around, but the park was still empty. Panting, Buck jogged his way over to the bench. His heart pounded in his chest in a way that had nothing to do with the run he had been on. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Buck peered into the baby carrier.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Buck’s heart plummeted in his chest, something cold spreading through his stomach. A baby stared back at him, letting out a little coo and waving a small pudgy hand at Buck. They were tucked up in blanket, a little beanie on their head. They were adorable, blue eyes staring up at Buck, little feet kicking out. A piece of paper was tucked up against their side and Buck took it with shaking hands.

Please take care of her. I can’t anymore.

“It’s okay,” Buck soothed, keeping his voice light. “You’ve had a rough evening but that’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

The baby girl cooed up at Buck again around the hand she was gumming at. He pulled out his phone, taking a seat beside the carrier. Buck didn’t think as he pulled up Eddie’s contact, hitting call and brining the phone up to his ear. As it rang, Buck looked over the baby. He didn’t see any visible signs of anything wrong, but he couldn’t be sure until he got her fully checked out.

“Hey, thank god you called,” Eddie said. “I’ve been banished from my own living room for bringing down the vibe.”

“What?” Buck blinked.

“Chris has some friends over,” Eddie explained. “I brought them snacks and suddenly I’m killing the vibe. What does that even mean? I’m not a vibe killer.”

“Well, you have a black thumb, maybe that extends to vibes,” Buck said, shrugging even though Eddie couldn’t see.

Eddie scoffed. “That’s not a thing.”

“Well, your kid is cooler than you,” Buck said. He grinned down at the baby girl, gently tickling her belly. She gummed at her hand more, letting out a series of noises that had Buck’s heart melting in his chest. “He clearly knows what he’s doing.”

“Ugh, why did I even bother calling you,” Eddie huffed. There was a beat and Buck could practically hear Eddie’s frown. “Wait, you called me. What are you doing?”

“I was on a run,” Buck started.

“Did you fall in the pond again?” Eddie asked, laughter in his voice.

“No,” Buck said emphatically. “And I didn’t fall the first time, I was pushed by that damn swan.”

This time Eddie didn’t hide his laughter. “Sure, sure.”

“I didn’t get pushed into the pond again,” Buck said. “I found a baby.”

The laughter died on the other end of the phone. “You found a baby what?”

“A baby girl.” Buck tickled the little girl’s tummy again. “Eddie, I’m pretty sure she was abandoned.”

Eddie swore in Spanish. “Is she okay?”

“She seems to be,” Buck said. “I don’t think she’s been out here long. She wasn’t here on my first loop.”

“Okay, hold on. I’m texting Athena to come meet you at the park,” Eddie said. “How do I –“

Buck smiled fond and dopey at the baby girl as he listed to Eddie struggle to work out how to send a text while he was still on the phone to Buck. His technophobic friend was adorable, and it made Buck fall just a little deeper in love with him. “Eddie, you can hang up.”

“I – no I can – damn it,” Eddie huffed. “I call you right back, okay.”

“I’ll be here,” Buck said. “Thanks.”

“Can’t believe you let me rant about killing vibes,” Eddie huffed. “Priorities, Buck.”

Buck laughed and Eddie hung up the phone. He chuckled down at the baby girl, leaning in closer. “That was Eddie. He’s my best friend and I’m a little bit in love with him.”

The baby girl cooed at Buck.

“Yeah.” Buck’s smile softened even further. “He’s going to call Athena. You’ll like her. She’s going to help us.” With a careful finger he gently stroked the baby girl’s cheek. “I’m sorry that you were left here.”

The baby girl leaned into his touch, releasing her own hand from her mouth. Spit dribbled down from her lips and Buck used the blanket to wipe it away.

Buck phone rang, Bobby’s name flashing up on the screen. Buck answered it, bringing it up to his ear. “Hey, Bobby.”

“Buck, heard you found something interesting on your run,” Bobby said. “You guys, okay?”

“We’re okay,” Buck answered. “Eddie works fast.”

“My wife works faster,” Bobby chuckled. “Athena’s on her way to you now. She shouldn’t be more than 10 minutes.”

“Thanks,” Buck said, shoulder’s relaxing. His phone beeped and Buck took it away from his ear to see that Eddie was trying to call him again. Bringing it back to his ear, he said, “Eddie’s calling –“

“Go ahead,” Bobby said. “Give me a call later.”

“I will. Thanks again Bobby,” Buck said, and he hung up, answering Eddie’s call. “Hey.”

“Athena is on her way,” Eddie said.

“I know, Bobby just called,” Buck said. “Thanks for calling her for me,”

“Of course,” Eddie said with a sound that told Buck he had been stupid to think otherwise. “I’d come myself but –“

“You’ve got a bunch of preteens to supervise,” Buck said. “I know. It’s okay.”

Eddie sighed. “Send me a picture.”

Buck grinned and he opened his camera app, taking a picture and sending it to Eddie. When he was done, he talked Eddie through how to open the message without hanging up the call.

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” Eddie breathed on the end of the phone.

“Gorgeous,” Buck said, stroking a finger down her cheek again. Her eyes were drooping, and Buck watched in real time as she fell asleep to his soothing touch. “She’s asleep.”

“Of course, she’s safe with you,” Eddie said quietly. “She knows that.”

“Ed’s.” Buck swallowed around the thick lump that appeared in his throat. It was moments like these that Buck wondered. Wondered if Eddie felt that same way about him. There was a line that they had been getting closer and closer too, Buck never quite brave enough to cross it.

A flash of blue and red light caught his attention and Buck saw Athena’s police cruiser pull up. Shoving those thoughts down, Buck cleared his throat. “Athena’s here.”

“Call me as soon as you’re done,” Eddie said firmly. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will,” Buck promised. After a beat, he hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He tracked Athena walking over to him. She was dressed in civilian clothes and Buck realised she must have been at home when Eddie had called.

“Buckaroo,” Athena called when was close enough. “Found yourself a little princess, did you?” She reached the bench that Buck sat on, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed it tightly as she leaned to get a look.

“Yeah.” Buck handed her the note. “I’m pretty sure she was abandoned.”

Athena read over the note, her frown deepening. “Poor thing,” She hummed quietly. “You up to coming to the station to give a statement?”

“Yeah, anything to help,” Buck said. He stroked the baby girl’s cheek again and she didn’t stir, just let out little puffs of air.

Athena ran a gentle hand over Buck’s curls, Buck leaning into her touch. It felt maternal, Buck’s heart stuttering in his chest.

“You ready?” Athena asked, carding her fingers through Buck curls one more time.

“Ready.”

~*~

It’s late by the time Athena dropped Buck back off at the loft. Before he could leave the car, Athena was grabbing his wrist, halting him.

“You need anything, baby, you call. Okay,” Athena said firmly.

Buck blinked at the tears that burned at the back of his eyes. “I will,” he managed to choke out.

“You’re a good man, Buck. I’m damn proud of you,” Athena said. “And I want you to know, that you aren’t alone in this. You both aren’t alone.”

Buck glanced in the back seat where the baby girl still snoozed. At the station, Buck had given his statement how he had found the baby. Social services had been called and by the time they arrived they had been at the station, Buck had there for several hours.

In that time the baby girl had been checked over and Buck was pleased to know that she was healthy. The on-call doctor believed her to be about three months old.

“We will have to do some tests to know if she’s been vaccinated,” the doctor had said. “But she appears healthy in every other way.”

The social service representative, Caitlyn, as she had introduced herself, had been kind, if a little frazzled.

“Finding placement will be difficult this late at night,” she had sighed. “But I will do my best.”

“I can take her,” Buck had offered without hesitation.

Athena and Caitlyn had both looked at him with surprise.

“I’m afraid you need to be a registered foster parent to be able to take her,” Caitlyn had said, giving Buck an apologetic look.

“I am,” Buck said. He didn’t even need to think about it, knowing in his heart that this was the right thing to do. “I can take her. I want to.”

“When did you do that, Buckaroo?” Athena had asked, giving Buck a look that was so full of pride that Buck’s heart had tripped in his chest at the sight.

“Before Jee-Yun was born,” Buck had explained, a hot flush on his cheeks. “After – After Eddie was shot.”

Athena gave a nod of understanding, and she squeezed his arm.

“Well, if you’re okay to take her tonight, I’d be happy to let you take her,” Caitlyn had said, looking relieved.

When everything was sorted, Athena had offered to give him a lift home.

“Bobby and I will be around first thing tomorrow with some supplies,” Athena promised him.

“Thank you,” Buck said, giving Athena a watery smile.

“Have a good night, you two,” Athena smiled.

Buck slid out of the car, grabbing the baby girl from the backseat, and headed inside his building. Even though she was asleep, Buck kept up a running commentary of what he was doing and where they were going.

“And this is us,” Buck said, grabbing his keys from his pocket. He opened the door, stepping into the cool air of his loft. He switched on the light, bathing the loft in light. He looked around the place and he let out a breath. “It’s not home though. Just a quick stop, okay.”

Buck grabbed the portable cot he had for Jee-Yun and a few other things before he was loading them into his Jeep. At the late hour, traffic wasn’t too bad and soon enough he was pulling up at the Diaz home.

“This is home,” Buck told the baby girl softly.

Getting her out of the back seat, Buck made his way up to the Diaz home. The lights were still on, and Buck used his key to slip into the house. He toed off his shoes and peeked into the living room. The TV was off, and Buck made his way to the kitchen.

Eddie looked up from the sandwiches he was making, smiling at Buck fondly. “Thought you and the little princess would be by soon enough. I made you something to eat.”

“You knew I would take her?” Buck asked, blinking at Eddie with surprise as he placed the baby carrier on a clear bit of table. “That we would come here?”

Eddie smiled at him knowingly.

Buck ducked his head with a blush. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

“I know you, Buck,” Eddie said softly. “How good you are. Besides, Athena texted me that you were still at the station, waiting for child services.” He slid a plate across to Buck before he came around and looked at the baby. He made a soft noise, melting the same way Buck had when he had first seen her.

Buck ate the sandwich quickly; unaware how hungry he had been. While he ate, he watched Eddie looking at the baby. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of Eddie carefully lifting her out of the carrier and cradling her to his chest. She squirmed but didn’t wake, Eddie grinning triumphantly.

“And you knew I would offer to take her,” Buck stated.

Eddie looked at Buck. “Yeah.”

“You don’t think it’s a mistake?” Buck asked, his own doubts and fears creeping to the surface.

“No.” Eddie said it so simply, so sincerely that Buck blinked.

Eddie saw this and he chuckled softly. “Buck, you’re a great dad. You’ve been co-parenting Chris with me for years now.”

Words failed Buck as the breath caught in his chest. He could only stare as Eddie came closer, rocking the baby in his arms. And Buck was hit with the vision, that this could be them, a family.

“We’re yours,” Eddie said softly. He swallowed thickly. “If you want.”

“I want,” Buck said, tripping over the words to get them out. “God, Eddie you have no idea how much I want that.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding. Then he was leaning down, pressing his lips to Buck’s. The kiss was a soft press of lips, the touch sparking inside Buck as he cupped Eddie’s cheek, kissing him deeper. When they pulled away, Eddie’s eyes were sparkling as he looked at Buck.

“I love you,” Buck said.

“I love you too.”

Buck glanced at the baby in his arms, his heart feeling so completely full of love. “She’ll need a home.”

“She has one,” Eddie said, his gaze never leaving Buck’s. “With us.”

Buck thought his chest might explode with the happiness that was crashing through him. “Yeah, she does.”

“She needs a name,” Eddie said.

“Chris can help with that,” Buck said, propping his chin in his hand. “After all, he is the cooler Diaz.”

And as Eddie shot him a mock glare, turning to sooth their baby girl as she started to wake, Buck had never been more in love with the man standing before him and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life showing their family how much he loved them.