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unhinged-summer-fun · 2 months

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common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 5

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 5: unknown planet

Osha was waiting for him this time when he walked past the storefront. She shook free of her daydreaming when she recognized the gait of the figure strolling by. The lighting did neither of them favors; she could still tell it was him even in the dark, just by how he paused and tilted his head. She waved for him to wait while she locked up.

Yord’s espresso machine crimes hadn’t been the felonies of the last few days, and Osha found she wasn’t as annoyed by them tonight, not when it meant she could see her stranger as he walked by. If the first time was a coincidence and the second time was a choice on his part, this instance was her choice.

She tucked her scarf into her jacket before locking up the cafe. “You know, we really have to stop meeting like this,” she joked.

He had a cut on his cheekbone. Around it bloomed a purpling bruise, meaning he’d gotten hurt in the last day or so. If it hurt him to smile as wide as he did, Osha couldn’t tell. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Hm.” Osha smiled and tucked her hands in her pockets. “You walking home, or somewhere else?”

“The night is young, Osha Aniseya.”

She was helpless to the frisson of excitement that came from hearing him say her name. “What do you normally do on Sunday nights?”

“Typically, Sundays are my rest days. Otherwise, I’d invite you to train.”

“Well, training’s out. What else do you do to have fun?”

“I fight. I study. Until recently, I trained someone else. I live a fairly straightforward life.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those types.”

They came to a stop at a crosswalk. “What type would that be?” he asked, turning to look at her with amusement.

“A hardass.”

He laughed, long and loud—so deep she could feel it in her bones. “I could be. That’s a highly subjective descriptor. Your sister would call me that if she felt bold enough.”

The mention of her sister had Osha looking away, swallowing back her scowl. “She told me you trained together for two years.”

“What else?”

“That she stopped about two months ago.”

He waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, he tilted his head to the side and frowned. “That was all she told you?”

“When I found out the person I’m closest to had been lying to me for two years, I didn’t exactly want to stick around and hear her out. Some truths are best sipped and not shot.”

“Did you still want to know the whole story?” he offered.

“I think my sister is the last thing I’d like to discuss right now.” Osha trudged into the crosswalk before it turned green. “I think I found a picture of you in the gym today.”

She wished she saw his expression, because when he said, “That’s surprising,” his voice sounded very tight and tense.

“Why’s that?”

“Because some very talented people have done a very good job of ensuring I don’t exist.”

“What happened?” She slowed her pace to walk with him side by side again.

He breathed out slowly through his nose. “I’m surprised you weren’t told. I got the impression it caused quite the stir among members when I left.”

“I wasn’t told anything. I’ve only heard rumors, and there are no mentions of anything online at all.”

“That’d be Vernestra’s doing. A third of her profits go toward marketing and image management. Not just for the gym, but for herself as well.” His voice struck her as aloof, uncaring whether she believed him or not. It was a lie. The tension in his shoulders begged, believe me, believe me.

“How do you know that?” Osha asked.

“I’m the one who risked tarnishing it in the first place.”

I know what it’s like to be cast aside for an injury that wasn’t your fault.

She felt the need to share something of herself, even though what he’d shared was still vague and formless. “I… after Bestine, I noticed someone had taken down a bunch of photos of me in the gym, pulled all the ads, the marquee banners on the website. It was like I had disappeared overnight. Was that—”

“Yeah,” the stranger said. He sounded more engaged now that she seemed to at least humor him. “She went further with me. She scrubbed my name from everything—news reports, tournament results, the photos on the website, like you—everything but legal records. For a while, I had no evidence I existed besides my own pain.”

She shouldn’t have been entertaining this. Vernestra was a pillar in the community and had taken her and Mae in on Sol’s word alone. She’d bought Osha her first pair of gloves and showed her how to balance again after the car accident.

“Are there any bars open or something?” Osha said, looking around like one would appear out of nowhere.

“I know a place. It’s not far.”

Despite it being nearly 9 p.m. on a Sunday, the place he led her to was crowded. The neon sign outside showed a ringed planet with a big question mark filling the center. On the front window, the operating hours boasted that the bar was open from “moonrise to sunrise,” whatever that meant.

The stranger let her choose where to sit, and she pointed out a place far in the corner by a big fire. Her ankle thanked her for it, even though her jacket and scarf made things sweltering in moments. “Osha,” the stranger said, not yet sitting. “What do you want?”

In the dim red bar lights, she could have answered that question in so many ways. By the way his jaw flexed and his eyes flickered over her body, he knew it.

“Hot toddy.”

His brows went up, impressed. “That sounds much better than what I was going to get. You hungry?”

“Sure. I’m not picky.”

He walked off, and she shed her coat, scarf, and light jacket. Scooting down in the booth, she put her foot on the seat to rest her ankle and knee. It wasn’t as nice as the gigantic stack of pillows she preferred in her room, but it was still a relief.

The fire caught her eye, but she quickly looked away.

She’d never heard of this place before. Above the bar the stranger walked to, a large neon sign declared that the place was called UNKNOWN PLANET. She hadn’t been to a lot of bars, and didn’t if she could help it. Shit, her 21st birthday had been the most awkward experience in her life—her and Mae and Sol in their apartment, sharing a beer like it’d bite them for drinking it.

It had almost put her off of drinking entirely—which may have been Sol’s goal.

“Hello!” The stranger said at the bar, close enough for Osha to hear. She peeked around the divider to watch him—she’d never seen him speak with anyone else. He was speaking with the bumbling aw shucks persona he’d first blundered into the cafe with. “You uh, have hot water on, right?”

The bartender said something in return that she didn’t hear.

“Two hot toddies, then. And I’ll keep it open, thanks. Could I also do…” Osha couldn’t hear the rest of what he ordered, most likely something from the food menu. She wondered why he felt the need to hide part of himself. If what he said about Vernestra was true, it should have emboldened him to act however he wanted.

“You saving this seat for someone?” a new voice said. A burly man holding a sweating bottle of beer swayed a little at the opening of her booth. As far as she knew, she was the only one in this section, so for this guy to come over wasn’t just luck. He pointed at the booth seat where her leg was propped up.

“I am, actually.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take this other seat,” he said, intending to slip into the opposite booth.

“No, I will mind.” She leveled a look at the man, trying to use small words to convey her meaning.

“What, you don’t want company?”

“Not yours.”

“Everything alright?” The stranger appeared then, holding two mugs in his hands and a murderous look in his eyes. Still, his voice was boisterous and goofy. As much as Osha wanted to see the stranger in action, her pride dictated she get herself out of this mess.

Unfortunately, it meant playing dirty.

“Yeah, babe. Just a miscommunication. He was on his way.” Osha leaned in, grabbed his sleeve, and gently pulled the stranger into the opposite booth seat, already beginning to ignore the other guy. “Bye,” she said lastly, turning and facing her companion with a flip of her hair.

She didn’t anticipate the look on the stranger’s face when she saw it. Until then, he’d always tilted his head down and averted his eyes to show deference or submission in front of her. It was a tactic to make her feel safe. But now, his eyes burned, desire evident in his stare. The cut on his cheek looked black in the red light, making him look ceaselessly dangerous. He chewed his lip idly, an unconscious habit while turning over whatever sticky, hot ideas formed in his head. The steam from the mugs in front of him coiled and curled around his jaw, and her fingers envied how it brushed his skin in tender caresses.

The other guy stomped away at long last.

“You alright?” the stranger asked, sliding her mug toward her. His voice had dropped an octave or two, and the look in his eyes remained.

“I’m fine. I know how to handle jerks.”

“I know you do.”

“And—” Reality chased back in. “Sorry about the babe thing. It was a cheap way to diffuse the situation.”

“You can call me whatever you want. I’m not complaining.” Like that first night, he took a sip of his drink while it was much too hot for consumption, and again, he didn’t flinch or even blink away from her.

Osha gripped her mug in both hands, holding her breath before exhaling slowly. She shifted in her seat so her leg was straight out in front of her and not bent awkwardly to the side.

“I’m sure working on your feet all day doesn’t feel good.” Thank god, a subject change.

“When it’s slow, I can usually get a stool, but it’s still a bunch of blood rushing to a place with poor circulation.” She abandoned her drink to rub at her ankle through her compression sock, the warmth of her hands a soothing balm to the dull ache.

“It took me a while to stand up straight for longer than a minute at a time.”

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

“Does it still give you problems?”

“Whose body doesn’t give them problems?” he said with a dry chuckle. “Yes. Typically, if I sleep badly. It only hurts when I’m not moving.”

“Fighting is good for that, then.”

He nodded, and she didn’t realize his mask had slipped until it went right back on when a server brought out two steaming bowls of soup and half a loaf of bread. “Thank you!” he said, voice pitched up. His grin took up most of his face, which Osha supposed was the point of a mask. When the server left, his expression still bore threads of false delight, but it was slipping fast into what she was used to. “Odd choice for a bar, but I swear by it. Lived off this soup for years.”

She tried it, blowing on her spoon just before. From the first taste, it exploded in flavor on her tongue, all at once spicy, hearty, and smooth. He watched her eagerly, wanting to know what she thought. For a guy who held his cards close to his chest, his face always gave him away. “This is perfect, thank you,” Osha said.

The pair fell into a companionable silence. Between the drinks, the soup, and the fire, they lost the chilly winter’s edge quickly. It loosened the sharpness of their conversation in the cold.

“So, you told me you fight however you like. Do you compete?”

“In a sense.” He sat back, just tracing his finger over the rim of his mug. “The state athletics board doesn’t strictly sanction the kind of fighting I do.”

“NHB.”

“You remembered,” he said, a smile touching his lips but not his eyes. “Yeah, no-holds-barred. Street brawling made sure I was fed some nights, paid my rent, kept me clothed. High risk, high payout.”

“You still use different disciplines, ones that are built on rule sets.”

“It’s why I stopped using boxing skills. If someone’s coming at you with a knife, they’re not going to care if you think their legs are off-limits.”

“A knife?” Osha asked, frowning.

“Anything goes on fight nights. Multi-fighter brawls, armed versus unarmed, weapons demonstrations, fastest KO, the organizers are pretty creative. I think I’ve heard someone refer to it as zuffa or vale tudo or shoot fighting.”

“That sounds like a way to get someone killed.”

He shrugged. “Probably. They keep an ambulance on site just in case.”

“I suppose that’s one way to get to that bloodsong you were talking about.”

His eyes glittered with some emotion she couldn’t place. He held her gaze boldly for a few seconds before looking down and away. “That kind of fighting wasn’t what Mae wanted to do, though. I never told her about it.”

It was a relief to hear. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Did she tell you why she wanted to stop training with you?”

“No. I told her she could back out whenever she wanted, and I meant it.” His expression was somber. “I knew it was something to do with the Temple, though. She made her choice, and I won’t offer her the chance again, though.”

“Why?”

“She guessed, generally, who I used to be. My feelings about the Temple and Vernestra Rwoh were enough to point her in some direction or another. But she couldn’t prove it. And as we established, Mae never asked and wouldn’t have believed me if I told her. If she did tell anyone about me, it’s unlikely they’d find me. I prefer it that way.”

Osha turned his words over in her mind as she finished her drink. After setting down her empty mug, she rooted in her pocket for the newspaper clipping she stole from the gym. Without looking at it, she slid it across the table to him. “Then this is yours.”

His eyes softened when he unfolded it. “This is from when I was sixteen.”

“How soon after did you…” Get hurt? Leave? Get kicked out? Become shunned and exiled?

“Less than six months.” He folded the paper and arched his back, straightening his leg to get it in his pocket. The bottom of his shirt rode up, exposing just a few inches of his tummy. It derailed whatever train of thought she had going.

A low chuckle cut off her drooling daydreaming. Heat flooded her face. Caught.

“Um.” Osha laughed nervously. “Anyway, it—”

“Do you often use the gym at the apartments?”

A beat. “Only on my days off. They book me four classes a week for free at the Temple, and I’m typically scheduled to work those days, too.”

“They make you work on the same days you’re meant to train?”

A flash of irritation sparked something in her head, behind her brows. “I’m not a competitor. They’re not particularly concerned with my work-life balance. And I don’t mind, it keeps me busy.”

“Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the—”

“You’re working as hard as anybody else and you’re not up to fight competitively?”

“I mean,” Osha shifted in her seat and rolled her neck, still suppressing the rising frustration with his questions. “I’d probably embarrass them if I went back in, ring rust and all—”

“You don’t honestly believe in that horseshit, do you?” He looked… disappointed.

Osha didn’t answer. An ice-cold focus had glassed over her face into a calculating, hardened stare. Whatever he saw in her eyes wiped that disappointment from his face and had him sitting up straighter. Some vicious, clawed part of her remembered how he told her sitting still and straight felt uncomfortable to him.

The bar lights washed him out a little, but she didn’t miss the way he paled slightly at the intensity of her stare. She leaned in, folding her hands on the table.

And then he did something she didn’t expect.

He groveled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out that way,” he babbled. As he went on, he started to sound a little like the buffoon he showed everyone else—how much of that mask was false? “It’s just, you’re 26 years old. You have injuries that can get fully rehabbed, but they’re being treated like clipped wings. I’ve seen you fight, Osha. I’d love to see you fight again. Call it selfish of me; call it what you want.” His voice grew in composure from where she’d rattled him. “But you’re still a lion, as much as they want to make you believe you’re a housecat.”

He sat back, wincing a little and breathing out. She immediately felt bad for pressing him into an uncomfortable posture, but she couldn’t help sitting a little higher herself. Nobody had ever truly noticed they’d overstepped around her until him.

She didn’t even have to kick his ass to get an apology.

“Are you trying to get me to train with you?” she asked bluntly.

His mouth twisted into a funny little half-tilt, tugging the cut on his cheek closer to his eye. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can.”

He laughed, eyes dropping to the table—no, he was still looking at her. Since she told him to sit down with her, his eyes had only left her when he blinked. Silence fell between them, and Osha felt acutely aware of where his gaze was, tracing the defined muscles of her arms as she leaned on them against the table. The stranger’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a way that felt like she’d been shot or something. His fingers traced up and down the slight curve of the empty mug in his hand.

Damn, she hadn’t been breathing for a long while. She inhaled a shuddering breath. “I think I should get home soon. Walk me there?”

“Well, since we’re going to the same place…” he said, voice tilted up playfully. “I’ll get the tab.”

He slid out of the booth and she started re-layering herself to brave the outside—

A touch to her inner wrist. Graceful fingers led to a muscled arm belonging to the stranger. She froze, looking up at him.

His face looked mildly tortured, which made sense when he said, “I am sorry. For upsetting you earlier.”

Osha wrangled the urge to give compulsory dismissals, her ingrained oh, that’s alrights and it’s not a problems. Instead, she felt pride bubble in her chest, knowing she was worthy of being apologized to, even for the small things. She nodded at him, and his thumb pressed softly on the sensitive skin of her wrist before he let go and walked to the bar again.

She was so utterly fucked.

CHAPTER SIX

#unhingery #common grounds #oshamir #oshamir fanfiction #the acolyte fanfiction #the acolyte #star wars fanfiction #osha x qimir

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manicpixiedreamjop · 1 year

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oooohhhh 28 - "I know your friends" with either solittle or armitozer please! <333

(Putting this one under a cut bc it got a bit long!)

“What the fuck happened to you?”

It’s not as if Edward has any say in where Sol goes or what he does, as Sol had been kind enough to remind him on his way out the door earlier when Edward had asked where he was going (“None of your fuckin’ business Neddie, you’re not my boyfriend and you’re not my mum, so fuck off, yeah?”). He feels justified in asking now though, as Sol stumbles through the door just past one in the morning, lip split, brilliant black eye blooming on the right side of his face.

“Got in a fight, didn’t I?” says Sol, tugging open the fridge and leaning into it, pulling out a beer and immediately holding it up to the bruise on his eye. His eyes look slightly out of focus, and Edward doesn’t know if it’s from the injury or if he’s been drinking already too.

“With who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Your face is bleeding, Sol,” says Edward, shoving himself to his feet and walking across the kitchen towards him. “So yeah, I’d say it fucking matters.”

“A friend,” snaps Sol.

“What friend?”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know your friends.”

“Can we not with the third degree, right now?” asks Sol, and this time Edward is sure he’s drunk. Better that than concussed, he supposes. “My fuckin’ head is killing me.”

“Do you think it’s because you got punched in the face?” asks Edward, but he softens his voice, taking the beer out of Sol’s hand with one hand and turning his chin towards the light with the other. The bruise is nasty, but the cut on his lip isn’t as bad as it had looked when he’d walked in, only crusted with old blood, already mostly closed. “Come on, Sol,” he continues, even softer this time. “What’s going on with you?”

Sol lets out a long, slow breath through his nose, and finally looks at Edward properly, eyes big and far softer than Edward ever gets to see them when Sol’s sober. “Was seeing someone,” Sol says finally. “Didn’t work out.”

“They did—” Edward says, forcing himself to stay calm, to push down the anger rising in him, sure it’s the last thing Sol needs right now.

“I thought—” Sol starts, but he cuts himself off too, shrugging awkwardly. Edward realises all at once that his hand is still on Sol’s chin, but can’t bring himself to move it, especially not when Sol leans into the touch. “I don’t know what I thought,” he continues after a moment, and then, before Edward can say anything else, Sol leans forward and kisses him.

He tastes like blood and whiskey, his several days of stubble scratching against Edward’s chin, and Edward is already opening his mouth and leaning back into the kiss before he quite processes what he’s doing. Because they don’t do this, him and Sol. They’re flatmates, they’re old friends, and maybe they’ve gotten off together a few times when they were drunk, and maybe Edward fantasises about getting down on his knees and sucking Sol off every time Sol comes home from the gym all flushed and sweaty and grinning, but they don’t do this. Edward has never even dared allow himself to want this.

“Sol,” he says, pulling away, forcing himself not to react to the small, disappointed noise that Sol makes. “You’re drunk.”

“And?” asks Sol. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you. That I haven’t wanted you for… for fuckin’ ever.”

“You’re drunk,” Edward says again, as much to himself as to Sol. “And bleeding, and… Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright? We can talk about this in the morning.”

Sol stares at him a moment longer, eyes still wide, before his face hardens again and he steps back, holding the beer can back up to his eye.

“I can deal with it,” he says tersely. “I’ve had worse.” Edward doesn’t know if he’s still talking about the black eye or not.

“Sure,” says Edward, taking a step back as well. “Yeah. I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

“Cheers,” says Sol, and then he’s stepping away, out of Edward’s orbit, and down the hall towards the bathroom.

#cw physical abuse #(happens offscreen)#ANYWAYS THEN THEY WAKE UP IN THE MORNING AND NED MAKES SOL BREAKFAST AND THEY KISS ON THE MOUTH #SORRY I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE SOMETHING ANYWHERE BETWEEN STRAIGHT UP ANGST AND STRAIGHT UP FLUFF #solittle #trantors #thank u for the prompt kiss kiss i adore u #my writing #little #tozer

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a-bit-too-much-of-a-pokemon-fan · 1 year

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Oops, forgot to post my early review of Violet

I found this just chilling in the drafts of my main blog, so I'm gonna post my initial review of Pokémon Violet here, then follow up on it with thoughts now that I'm on my seventh playthrough (sixth Nuzlocke, third Hardcore Nuzlocke).

When I was in the midst of catching Pokémon and progressing the story of Violet, it hit me that I was having some of the most fun I’ve ever had playing Pokémon. The fact that the game runs so abysmally is all the more tragic because other than that, I’m tempted to say this is one of the best games in the franchise. I grew up on Platinum, and White/White 2 are my overall favorites, but Violet is creeping real close. Performance aside, I think the biggest weakness is one that most open world games suffer from—a fragmented story. It’s eerily similar to Breath of the Wild in that sense. The story that’s there is really good, but the world design leads to a loose execution. Compared to Skyward Sword and Pokémon Gen 5, which are suffocatingly linear but deliver a tightly executed story that hits all the right beats at all the right points.

That’s the crazy thing about Violet, too. The story isn’t just good because of the characterizations and themes. The dialogue is just straight up good. It feels like you’re talking to real people and not video game npcs, or at least the most like it we’ve gotten in Pokémon. The localization was clearly done by people who are young and/or in touch. There are so many little gems. A gym leader who is a streamer and tells her audience to smash the subscribe button? The earnest but out of touch school headmaster asking you what “cheugy” means? It’s so good.

I’m surprised with how well the three-prong story fits and comes all together in the end. The gym challenge in your standard Pokémon romp and is fun but honestly the least interesting of the three. Arven and Team Star’s stories are genuinely well-written and touching. They both start kind of weird and forced, but they grew on me really fast.

Alright, and the music is fucking fantastic. Pokémon has always had great music. That’s probably the coldest take in this post. But there are some serious hits in this score. The East Province themes, Team Star themes, and very spoiler-heavy, late-game songs are so, so good. They made a great choice bringing Toby Fox in for more tracks.

In terms of the game design though, I’m a huge fan. Terastylizing is probably the most interesting battle gimmick since double battles introduced in Gen 3. The regional Pokédex is a nice balance of mons from every generation and sits at a very respectable number of 400 Pokémon. I just caught myself a whole living dex up thru Gen 6, so for this playthrough I chose to only use new (Gen 8 and 9) Pokémon. Still, I came into it knowing I wanted to catch every mon I can. I was struck by just how much encounter variety there is. On a second playthrough where I allow mons from Gen 7 and earlier, I can see myself using a completely different team.

Ah, my team. My companions for this adventures were as follows: Zaza the Meowscarada, Li’l Buddy the Pawmot, Blaze the Ceruledge, False Knees the Corviknight, Honey Bun the Dachsbun, Connie the Frosmoth, and the late substitution for False Knees to cover my crippling weakness to fire-types: Norm the Veluza. I can and will go in depth into this team and what I love about it, but suffice it to say that Weed Cat was a great starter.

I do think I’ll need a second playthrough a while down the road before I can say if I love this game, but it’s easily one of my favorites in the series. Again, that’s why it’s poor performance sucks so much. I really, really like Violet, but it can be miserable to play sometimes. I know it can be so much better then it is. So let’s get to the elephant in the room.

Gamefreak needs to slow down. From what I saw of Sword and Shield (I skipped these ones), there are points where you can tell corners had to be cut. The problem became obvious with Legends Arceus. I love the gameplay, music, art direction, and all the little experiments the designers took, but holy Arceus above, the game looks like ass. If the devs were given more time, it could have looked so much better. And now we’re here with Scarlet and Violet. The art direction is strong but it’s obvious in one look that the devs were rushed. The only parts of the game that don’t consistently drop frames are the Tera raid battles. I’m sure there are countless people listing every performance issue, so I’ll stop there.

The devs need more time to put out their best work, and the Gamefreak and Pokémon Company execs know that. But. Their main audience is children. As a former child myself, I know that children have no taste or sense of quality. Unless the game is literally unplayable and crashes every other minute, kids will not notice the myriad performance issues. So they will continue to ask their parents to buy them the games, and the games will continue being purchased. The share of Pokémon fans who are A) adults, and B) concerned with the state of the games and franchise, is tiny compared to the primary audience. So unless the next game is so rushed that it actually sells as terribly as it runs, things will never change.

So,,, yeah. I give it a 6/10. Fix the performance and I’d give it a 9.5/10. Good game. They gave me a weed cat.

~~~~~~

Alright, that was the review I wrote on December 31st, six days after I got the game. I had just finished my vanilla playthrough of the game. I'm even more conflicted on the score now than I was before. I think I'll itemize it then revisit the overall score.

Music: Easy 10/10. Banger after banger here. Battle themes, boss themes, town themes, area themes, oh man. Almost everything is great. There are some tracks I aren't the biggest fan of, namely the West Province theme and variants. But the sheer quantity of songs I like, and the phenomenal use of adaptive music makes up for it.

Story: 8/10. Easily the strongest story of the series in terms of writing quality and dialogue. I don't have much more to say than what I wrote in December. It loses points on having that weaker execution than Black and White, and if I'm being honest, it still doesn't compare to the better-written non-Pokémon games I've played. Halo 4 or Undertale, anyone?

Trainer/Boss Battles: 7/10. Where are the healing items? Where are the switch-ins? Random trainer battles aren't always easy, granted. The trainers with black dialogue boxes (the strongest trainer of each area) are no joke, especially in Nuzlockes. Boss battles though. Thematically, always reserving their ace for last then Terastallizing works very well. It makes the battles much more predictable. I can definitely feel the lack of healing items, which reduces the amount of strategizing needed. I also dock points for removing set mode. That was legitimately the only form of a difficulty option in this game and they turned it into another input and a time loss every time you KO an opponent's Pokémon. It's especially frustrating when I return to Violet after playing earlier games that have the option. Overall enjoyable though.

Wild Pokémon Battles: 10/10. Phenomenal. Perfect, even. Continuing the mapping of Pokéballs to the X button instead of needing to go into the bag is perfect. Makes catching smoother. Pokéball animations are much faster. Roaming encounters are such a welcome change from random encounters. The only problem with them is that they complicate Nuzlockes, but that's really not the designers' fault.

Accessibility: 1/10. Abysmal. Disclaimer that I almost never use any accessibility options in games because I don't need them. But there's no options for disabling or toning down animations. No button remapping. No color blindness options. No text options beside changing the speed. Forgive me if I forgot some. Again, I don't use them so I don't usually think consciously about it. Besides, GameFreak forgot all of them. I give one point because falling of cliffs is made harder by a buffer, and you can warp back up if you do fall. Nintendo-published games need to have more accessibility options and I can't believe they keep getting away with their absence of options.

Presentation: 4/10. Oh, this is rough. Character and Pokémon models are fantastic, manmade structures are great, but almost everything natural looks terrible. I don't see any anti-aliasing. It's terribly optimized. Performance issues abound. And what's with the pace of battles? The higher ups needed to let the devs and QA teams cook. Damn.

Overall: ... 8/10. In some ways, ScarVio knocks it out of the park. In others, it falls flat on its face. But the most important part to me personally is whether the game is fun. And I stand by my previous take. It's some of the most fun I've had in Pokémon game. If my seven playthroughs (four complete, two Nuzlocke wipes, one in progress) are any indication, I like this game quite a lot.

#pokemon #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #my review #woof that's a long one

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pedrospatch · 1 year

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🌻 if you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let’s get to know the person behind the blog 🌻

thank you for sending this in bb! it’s the third time I’ve gotten in and I love it! lmao 🫶🏼💗 more random facts about Vee:

1. i work admin for a Mercedes Benz collision center (aka where we fixed crash cars but mostly Benz) and here’s a fun fact: rich people can’t drive for shit, which explains why Vee works 45 hours a week and has yet to ever take a vacation from work 🫠

2. i live in gym clothes…but barely go to the gym

3. my favorite food is sushi, in fact, about to stop and pick some up for dinner right now 🍣

#vee answers mail 💌

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phase0exe · 1 year

Text

- ⚙️🩵👑

doing absolutely horrible right now, reeeeaaaaally don’t like venting but it might help so… scroll past this because i don’t think anybody really cares. tw for just… a lotta things, dude.

honestly today has been… a day, to say the least. the last few days have been filled with nothing but stress and anxiety. it’s like shark’s parents are TRYING to make switching schools as hard as possible for us. shark wont get to see their girlfriend anymore because of school, the only people we know are going to this school are the people that are out to get us, we’re gonna have to hide who we are and blend in with the slutty sickeningly-straight tiktoker whores at this new school.

shark’s parents also said we’re only getting plain colored supplies and should only wear solid colored clothing. wow. how… unique.

we’re in a bunch of stupid classes too, like video filming tech and entrepreneurship because the school has such limited course selection. they have a medical course and an entrepreneur course, but no art or theater or asl like the school we were ABOUT to go to has.

today especially has sucked because i first fronted when we were going somewhere, so i immediately got anxious out of not knowing where i was. then i’ve been frontstuck most of the day, so that’s great too. i actually wanted to go to the gym today but of course today we didn’t get to go because of weather. me and shark are excited to go to the aquarium… well, not as excited anymore. the waiting is really taking all the fun out of it. i mean sure, there’s only two days left, but the hype has run down.

i spent the past hour or so on the phone because one of our “friends” forced us to play smash bros with them for a really long time. now, i’m not good at smash bros, so i kept losing. that frustrated the hell outta me.

i dont even want to sleep tonight, and i don’t want to eat or drink anymore either. we constantly feel bad about eating because either shark’s mom will say something about our body, or when we do ask for food shark’s dad sighs seemingly frustrated at us. we barely drink enough anyways but we’re still alive so… does it really matter? i mean, we’ve not passed out or gotten heat stroke yet, so…? why exactly do we need to drink water?

admittedly, we sleep a lot, but that doesn’t mean we want to. i just… really don’t like it here right now. at this point i think i’m the third host of the system with how much i front, and i dont know how to feel about that.

i just… feel like i can’t talk to anyone anymore. what if everyone is out to get us? what if everyone wants to hurt us? what if this isn’t even real, and just some dream i’m having?

i’ll cut myself off there, ‘cuz i’m feeling guilty for venting. i don’t know if you guys will be able to tell who i am by my emoji signoff or whatever, but you don’t really need to know. if you can figure it out? good for you, dude. if not, oh well.

-⚙️🩵👑

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peskygirl13 · 3 years

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MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work).

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to.

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons.

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion.

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you.

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question.

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror.

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter.

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground.

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake.

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them.

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble.

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious.

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys.

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!”

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina.

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying.

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority.

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-”

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina.

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina.

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted.

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball.

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off.

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something.

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did.

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder.

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey.

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares.

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

#ask #twst x pokemon au #pokemon #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x pokemon #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #silver #pokemon platinum #pokemon sinnoh

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troubatrain · 4 years

Text

want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew��s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Note

Could I order a medium well steak with mashed potatoes and peas please? I’ll be splitting it with Bakugo and/or Kirishima ☺️

Oh honey yes yes you can!! And thanks for giving me my first poly fic ☺️☺️ 💪💥

Pairing: KiriBaku x fem!reader poly is this happening or.???

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral fem and male receiving, hair pulling, one or two daddy calling, threesome, fingering, spanking, it’s my first time writing poly mkay

Enjoy your meal~

Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, and you. Friends since high school and now inseparable in your fourth year of college. The dynamic between the three of you was always energetic, supportive and fun. Most of your friends always found you three together and it would always be weird if one of you was without the other two. Yes, this was perfect, it was working, it was fine.

It didn’t matter that feelings between the three of you began to shift from platonic to romantic.

When did that start really? Well it could be boiled down to a couple of instances. The first one being your first major heartbreak in college. You were a freshman, young, a little naïve, so you dove head first into the arms of an upperclassmen who claimed to see you for you. Until you saw him in the arms, rather sheets, of someone else. The pain you felt was excruciating as you ran and told your two best friends. Each of them lending an ear and some advice to your heart slowly closing off to them and the world.

“That extra didn’t deserve you anyways. You can do way better.”

“I already got your favorite ice cream. Now come on, I know you wanna cry in my shoulder. We’re here for you.”

You hadn’t expected them to be so kind and caring about that. The three of you ended up cuddling together and watching your favorite movies. It was confusing. This is normal for friends right? Totally platonic for friends to snuggle and provide affectionate care after a bad break up. Totally and completely.

But your heart can’t stop racing and you can’t stop the warmth you feel from their closeness.

The next time was when Bakugou’s college hockey team made it to the national title your second year. You and Kirishima had been at every game, even the ones out of state. You cheered him on and yelled at all the right times when plays and calls seemed unfair.

“You call that an infraction? Bakugou barely touched that guy, come on!”

“Hell yeah bro! That’s how you score on those unmanly boys over there!”

He never admitted it, but seeing the two of you in the stands at all of his games made him want to play harder and better, push himself to be the best despite any potential injuries he could have gotten. Being able to hear your intense screams over the crowd and Kiri’s booms of what’s manly on the ice and what isn’t made his heart race in a way he couldn’t figure out. There’s no way it’s the l word. No, they’re his best friends.

That’s all it is, he loves his best friends in the most non-romantic way possible.

The third and last instance was a little more personal between the three of you; starting with you and Kirishima. It was a party, celebrating Kirishima’s new job at the university gym, where you began to realize your feelings. The apartment was filled with close friends and some acquaintances where alcohol and some drugs flowed freely. The two men had lived together with a couple other guys they knew so for the most part they were on host duties. When you had finally arrived with a couple of your girlfriends, you greeted the blond and red head and continued to dance and mingle with your friends.

About an hour after you had entered, you walked over to Kirishima’s room to use his bathroom (you didn’t want to touch Denki’s bathroom) in his room. When you walked into his room, you were surprised to see him standing in front of his closet, half naked and changing shirts.

“Ah geez Eiji! Sorry to interrupt, I’ll wait outside.”

He chuckles and finishes putting on his shirt. “It’s all good pebble. I just had a little spill and needed to change.” He looks you up and down in an unfamiliar way. “Did you need to use my bathroom?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at how close he had gotten. It had to be the alcohol, right? That’s the only explanation. “Yeah,” you huff out, “but I don’t know if I need to go anymore ha ha.”

He grins at you and asks, “do you wanna sit for a bit? I feel like we haven’t had much time just the two of us.”

And who were you to say no to one of your best friends? So you sit beside him on his bed, something you’ve done plenty of times before. But somehow this felt, different. You feel him lay his head on your lap, a move he’s done before to indicate how tired he is and you naturally rake your fingers through his soft hair. You wish he would wear it down more often, you think he looks better that way.

“You really think so?”

You look down at him and freeze. Seems that you were talking out loud instead of in your mind. You giggle awkwardly, but keep your fingers attached to his scalp. “Yeah,” you hum. “It looks really nice.”

He hums into you, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his hair. A soft smile adorns his face as he muses to himself, “wouldn’t it be funny if Bakugou gelled his hair down?”

You don’t do much to hold in the laughter that erupts from your stomach, making the man in your lap laugh with you. The small intimate moment between you becomes more intimate when Kirishima sits up to look you in the eyes, his pupils dilated. You feel his hand come up to your cheek as his thumb rubs circles near the crease of your eye. “God you’re beautiful,” he whispers holding your gaze. The hand that was previously in his hair rests on his broad shoulder. Had he always been this rough yet soft to the touch? You don’t realize you’re sharing breaths until his next words are felt on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod fervently and close the short distance between your lips. The rush that you feel when his warm lips are on yours is an experience you want to relive over and over. Just like him, his kiss is soft and full of care as he gently kisses you. Kirishima’s hands run down your body and find comfort on your hips while your wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. You can feel how hard he is from your bodies grinding on each other.

You break for air with a string of saliva connecting your lips. This is it. You might’ve known it for a long time but it’s glaring at you right in your face. You love him, and from what you can muster, he loves you too. The way his fingers are still touching you even though the act of passion has ended. Your foreheads are touching as you both exchange breaths.

“I,” he starts, “I think I’m in love with you. Well, have been for awhile.”

You smile when he smiles and slowly peck his lips. “I love you too, Eijirou.” You pause to cup his cheek and feel happiness grow inside when he leans into it. “But what about-“

“Bakugou?”

“Yeah.”

Your hand falls into your lap and Kirishima reaches for it. He holds it gently and strokes his thumb at the back of it. The silence in the room isn’t complete because of the muffled music and shouting outside the closed door. You part your lips and struggle for the next couple of seconds to say the right thing. “I don’t want our dynamic to change.”

“Neither do I. But I can’t deny these feelings I’ve had for you anymore! Ever since that jerk cheated on you at the beginning of college, I think that’s when my feelings started. I hated seeing you cry and I vowed that if you ever did cry that I would be the one to wipe away your tears and take care of you. Not that you can’t take care yourself, you know what I mean!” Your light chuckle helps him to keep talking. “But I think about how it’s always the three of us and… I don’t wanna leave Katsuki out of this, us! It wouldn’t feel right.

“And I think when we saw him score that winning goal last year, with the way you looked at him I thought you could never look at me that way.”

Your back sits up straighter at his words. Was that true? Did you also have feelings for Bakugou as well? He had turned his face away from you at his admittance, but you pulled him back for a kiss. This one seemed to be more heated and passionate than the last as your hands search and prod his warm body all over.

You were so tightly wound up in each other you neglected to hear his door opening.

“Hey dumbass, (Y/n) went in here to go to the bathroom forever ago- what the fuck?!”

Kirishima pulled away from you quickly at hearing his other best friends voice. The two of you do your best to fix your state of clothes but the damage had already been done. You’ve seen Bakugou upset before but never like this. Never like this at the two of you. He looked broken and betrayed.

You face him and get up off the bed, “Katsuki, wait lemme explain!”

Vermillion eyes glare down at you in such passionate anger that you were almost terrified to say anything. “I think everything makes perfect sense to me. You two have been dating behind my back haven’t you.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Kirishima responds first, “wait it’s not what you think, ‘Suki. We actually need to talk to you about something.”

“Tch,” he roughly pulls himself away from the two of you, “don’t fucking call me that. How long has this been going on, hah?! You really think I wouldn’t notice? You guys have been making go-go eyes at each other for years.”

“Would you please hear us out? And close the door,” you murmur, “everyone’s looking in here.”

Bakugou looks to the two of you and then behind him as his friends look on. Most people had dispersed or left so only your close friend group had stayed. Being the good and observant friends they are, Denki was the first to speak up.

“I think we’ll go somewhere else. You three need to talk.” And in his slightly drunk and slightly high daze, he and Sero managed to get everyone out of the doorway and out of the apartment. So now it’s just the three of you and open truth of the situation.

Bakugou roughly shuts the door and stands above the two of you. “So,” he huffs, “how long have you been dating?”

You can’t help but hear the hint of hurt in the last word he said. You want to reach out but know that it won’t help presently. “Ka- uh Bakugou, we’re not dating. We just, kissed and confessed our feelings.”

The ashy blond pouts and crosses his arms. “Don’t lie to me, dumbass. Shitty hair, is that really what happened?”

“Yeah dude, we really were just talking and then we kinda kissed and talked about our feelings.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything!” You had let your emotions get the best of you as you yelled at him. “It’s always been the three of us and we don’t wanna ruin this dynamic we have.”

Katsuki snaps back, “I get it. I would be in the way. Just, fuck, go be happy.”

Kirishima stands up and prevents Bakugou from leaving. “No dude, you don’t get it. (Y/n) and I came to an unspoken understanding:

“We can’t do this without you.”

With his anger subsiding, Bakugou was vulnerable. And in his state of vulnerability, Kirishima took the opportunity to cover his lips with his own. The ashy blond is caught off guard, but eventually concedes into the kiss. Something inside you stirs at seeing your two best friends kiss. It’s not jealousy, it’s contentment; like everything is finally fitting and working out.

When the two males part, their breaths are heavy as they stare into each others eyes. Kirishima speaks up first. “This is what we wanted to talk to you about.” He then tangles his fingers with the stunned in silence blond. “We think, no, we know that we have feelings for each other. But also-“

“We have feelings for you too Katsuki,” you chime in from the bed. “We couldn’t do this, thing, without you. I can’t imagine life without you two.”

Bakugou looks over to where you are on the bed, and his eyes soften. He can see the love in your eyes, a gaze that he’s seen you give Kirishima and maybe you’ve given those looks to him and he didn’t notice? Almost like he thought you wouldn’t have feelings for him, or that his red headed friend would feel similarly.

“Tch, idiots. How long have you,” he looks away as his cheeks start to tint pink, “had feelings for me?”

You stand up and walk up to the shy man, taking his other hand. “I’m not sure. I might’ve realized it when Eiji and I were cheering for you at one of your games… T-the way you looked when you noticed us made my heart leap. You were so happy and satisfied with that look on your face Katsuki. But I was confused cause by then I had already confirmed my feelings for Eiji so I- mmph!”

Katsuki ended your rambling and pulled you into his body. You had always dreamt and fantasized about what his tout and fit body would feel against yours, and it’s better than you could have imagined. Where Kirishima was soft, Bakugou was rough as he licks at your bottom lip and thrusts his tongue in your mouth. You accept him hungrily as your arms wrap around his shoulders. Your lips mesh so easily and effortlessly together that you can’t help but moan.

When the two of you pull apart, Katuski is back to his smug self. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that princess. Damn, so what now?”

The question doesn’t linger too long in the air as the three of you exchange glances at each other. “Well, we just keep doing what we’re doing. You know, now with kissing and hand holding and sex stuff I guess, hehe.” Kirishima laughs out as realization comes to all of your faces. To be fair, you all have already kissed and you doubt Kiri’s earlier hard on has gone down.

Being brave, you step up to Kirishima, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a lust filled kiss. You grind yourself on his torso, forcing him to put his hands on your waist. His grip on you tightens and doesn’t hesitate to lift you up, making your legs wrap around his waist. Behind you, you feel hands trail down your back sensually, stopping at your ass. You pause your kiss with Kirishima to whine at the touch, feeling Bakugou’s hands go down your thighs and over Kiri’s hands.

“Put her on the bed, Eijirou.”

The way he commands the two of you, the way how he growled that out right by your ear made your panties damp. Kirishima nods and walks you two toward his bed, gently placing you down. He works on getting your leggings off, slowly pulling each leg out to keep touching your soft skin. Once they’re off, you’re left in your top and lacy thong, unaware of how the night would turn out. The wet spot at your core doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males and Kirishima licks his lips and Bakugou starts palming at his jeans, hissing as he does so. “Is that for us, pebble?” He takes a single finger and slowly swipes it up your covered slit making your toes curl and a huff of air leaves your lips. “Fuck, baby you’re so wet. Katsu, you gotta see this up close.” He takes off your thong, brings it up to his nose for a long sniff, and stuffs them in his pocket.

You feel a new pair of hands graze your inner thighs, as a head of ashy blond is now seen between your legs. He breathes into your cunt and grins at your mewl, the sound going to his hardening cock. Without warning, his tongue dives into your folds, going in between kitten licks and deep thrusts of his tongue into you. Your jaw drops in pleasure and you can’t help but moan loudly. Bakugou pulls away, and grunts “Think you can shut her up shitty hair?”

You hear the red head chuckle to the side of you as he had already removed his pants and now his boxers. His cock springs free, swinging upward on his abs and already leaking pre-cum. The way you’re looking at him like a full course meal makes his dick twitch. “I can’t wait to shove my dick in your mouth.” You see a little bit of drool fall from the corner of his mouth and just seeing that turns you on so much. He moves to straddle you over your chest, careful not to sink down or hurt you in anyway. His ruby irises meet yours as he caresses your cheek, “is this okay?”

You nod, words failing you because Bakugou hasn’t let up on your pussy. Kirishima inches closer and sit up slightly so that your lips can finally met his warm and hard dick. You wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue flitting at his leaking tip causing the strong man above you to moan loudly. That moan caused a ripple effect from you sucking him harder and Bakugou’s tongue swirling on your clit, which made you moan onto Kiri’s cock. All three of you are beginning to feel extreme pleasure at once, almost as if everything in your lives was building up to this point.

You sink your mouth deeper onto throbbing cock, causing Kirishima to pant and curse. His hips struggle to stay still but your tongue, throat, and mouth are working wonders on him. You never thought he would be somewhat loud in the bedroom, but it’s making you love him more. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a slap on your inner thigh and but hear an extra one. The extra one you heard was Bakugou lifting his body just enough for him to reach Kirishima’s are ass and smack it. Just knowing he got spanked made you wetter.

“Heh, do you like it when I smack his ass baby girl? You’re gushing down here after I did that. Lemme do it again, yeah?” And you hear the sound of palm against skin and you taste more of him in your mouth after. Bakugou continues his assault on your pussy as your hips gyrate into his face, moans and cries muffled by Kirishima’s long and girthy cock in your mouth. Kiri moves his hand from your cheek to your hair and tugs as he chases his high.

He feels you whine something on his dick and smirk. “You gonna cum pebble? You’re gonna cum all over ‘Suki’s face while I cum down your throat? C’mon baby girl, milk my cock I wanna mess up your throat, ah fuck this feels good!”

Bakugou inserts two fingers into your aching pussy as he sucks on your clit. Your hips are moving out of rhythm as you feel the build up deep in your core want to explode. You suck hard on Kirishima’s cock as he moans above you loudly, filling your mouth and throat with his seed. As he comes down from his hard orgasm, you let out a pop as you let go of his cock. He removes himself from your chest and takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to spill a drop until he makes you cum. If any of it spills or you swallow it without permission, he won’t let you cum and I’m gonna punish you okay pebble?”

You nodded and he lets you go, realizing he hasn’t taken off your top. Kirishima brings you up to take off your top, giving you a look to remember his words just seconds earlier. He removes it and realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath. He lifts an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly. “You’re so naughty,” he growls as he takes a hardening nipple into his mouth. He sucks earnestly as Bakugou finger and tongue fucks you. You feel your orgasm getting closer and closer as Bakugou growls into your pussy.

“You ready to cum baby girl? You heard Ejij, don’t spill a fucking drop until I say.”

You nod vigorously, avoiding being vocal to keep your mouth full.

“Then cum baby,” he sucks on your clit harder, “cum for daddy.”

Your own orgasm rocked through you so hard you were seeing stars. You obeyed their commands and only swallowed after you were sure you were done cumming, holding onto Kirishima’s back tightly as your nails dug into it. Bakugou removes himself from between your legs, licking his chin and observing your juices on his fingers. He taps Kirishima on the shoulder and shoves his fingers into his mouth, catching the red head off guard. He moans around the wet fingers as his tongue dives in the valleys of Bakugous fingers. The scene before you was incredibly erotic as the to men didn’t break eye contact.

“She tastes good doesn’t she?”

“Mmm,” he releases with a pop, “fuck yeah she does, babe.” Your chest heaves up and down as you come down from your high, truly enjoying the moment between the trio of you. Kirishima lightly plays with your breasts still as Bakugou moves to the other side of the bed. “Get her on all fours. I can’t wait to fuck that mouth of hers.”

The two of you do as he says, and you get on all fours on the bed. You see Katsuki undress and you do your best to keep your dirty thoughts to yourself as you realize you are in the presence of two god-like looking men. You feel Kirishima smack you ass and you yelp out the sudden sensation. You hear him snicker behind you as you feel his hands knead your ass. The man behind you leans over you, hands trailing up your back and sides as he asks. “All of this is okay, right?”

Bakugou grunts, “speak.” He grabs your cheeks and forces you to look at him, “now.”

You nod at first, but remember that your mouth is empty. “Yes,” you pant, “please have your way with me, daddies.”

Wet lips attach to yours as you make out with Bakugou once more, accepting your consent. Kirishima palms at your cunt, making you clench around nothing, as his other hand reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom. The red head had no idea that he would need these anytime soon, especially with the two of you. Once the condom is on, he lines himself behind you, teasing your hole with his tip. At the same time, Bakugou lines up his aching cock with your lips, outlining them with this dick.

When Kirishima finally pushes in your eyes go wide. You knew he was big, but fuck would he fit? He moves slowly for you to adjust to his size and length. You pant wildly as he grips your hips tighter at how slick you are. Soon enough, he’s bottomed out in you and waits. He can tell you aren’t used to his size yet and traces your spine to comfort you. “You’re taking me so well, pebble. Tell me when it’s okay for me to move, okay?”

You let out more shaky breaths and then crane your neck to give him the most blissed out face he’s ever seen. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes, pupils blown out and your tongue lolling to the side as you tell him to move. And when he does, you never thought that fucking, no making love could feel so ecstatic, so euphoric. The feeling is overwhelming but you love it, it’s a good overwhelming.

You barely have time to moan because Bakugou shoves his needy cock into your mouth. He’s not as big as Kirishima so blowing him is going to be a fun adventure. You wrap one hand around the base and hollow out your cheeks as you suck him in. He hisses above you as one hand finds purchase in your hair. His hips stutter a bit when you lick a stripe up his cock from base to tip. A few pants escape him when you do that but what has him moaning more is when you lick and play with his balls. His grip gets tighter as you keep playing and messing with his cock and balls.

Meanwhile Kirishima is slamming into you, his balls hitting you with every thrust. You never knew you needed this but now that you have it you don’t want to go with out it. There’s one particular thrust he gives that makes your eyes roll back and stop working on Bakugou briefly. He tugs at your hair and you get back to licking and servicing him. Above you, you feel a hand on the middle of your back and a hand leave your hair. You catch Kirishima whisper a “c’mere” and the sounds of lips and tongues melding together is heard. The scene is absolutely erotic and you are living for it. Having your two best friends, no lovers, make out above you almost makes you cum again as your pussy clenches.

Eijirou pulls away when your pussy clenches around his dick in order for him to whimper at the sensation. He starts pumping into you harder, wanting you two to cum for the second time. You have a feeling Bakugou is close because his thrusts have become erratic and he’s pulling on you harder. The pull of your hair and the way Kiri’s dick feels inside you is enough for you to cum.

You whine on Katsuki’s dick, seeing the tears in your eyes as his hips keep moving back and forth. “You ready to take my seed, huh pretty girl? I know you are, just look at you. Fuck,” he moans out, “you’re something else princess. Shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Unf, (Y/n), EIjirou, fuck!”

His cum fills up your throat, some of it spilling out the side of your mouth. You swallow what you can and release him with a pop. Your breathing is ragged as you admire the taste of both men mixed on your tongue. The hands that were previously on your hips go to your stomach and pull you into a strong chiseled chest. Kirishima rests his forehead on your shoulder blade as he fucks you harder. “C’mon pebble I’m so close, I’m so close. God you feel amazing,” he mewls into your ear. One hand goes to your swollen nub and rubs at it intensely. Your voice raises an octave as you practically scream in pleasure, the waves of your second orgasm hitting you without warning.

Kirishima pumps up into you faster after he felt you tighten around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum (Y/n). Katsuki I’m cumming, I’m cumming! Ah fuck!” He holds you tightly as he pumps through his orgasm, speeding up and then slowing down as the both of you calm down from your highs. You stay impaled on his cock, enjoying the sheen of sweat between the three of you. Bakugou comes up to you and kisses you sweetly, carefully lifting you off of Kirishima’s dick. He takes a finger to trace along the outside of your face and then over your lips. He lays the two of you down on the bed, just embracing the moment. Kirishima gets up and shaky legs to take care of the used up condom. He throws it in the trash and then heads into his bathroom. When he comes back out, he hands Bakugou a towel and the two of them begin to tend to you and clean you up. “You did so well for us babe,” Bakugou whispers, kissing your cheek and wiping your right leg. Kirishima has your left and himself to clean up.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Kirishima takes the towels to the laundry room and returns with bottles of water for each of you. He slides under the covers, the top comforter replaced with a Crimson Riot one, and cuddles up to you and Bakugou. “So,” he starts, “does that mean we’re together? Like officially?”

Bakugou who’s facing the two you, with you in the middle, rolls his eyes and extends an arm out to the adorable red head. “Dumbass, I wouldn’t have done this if we weren’t. Now shut up,” his voice lowers, “she’s asleep.”

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bakugou smut #kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #eijirou x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #kirishima x y/n #first time writing poly

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

The Words I Didn’t Mean

Prompt: Hi!!!! Would you be able to write a Bokuto x reader fic where they had an argument the night before a game. The reader ends up being really late to the game, so Bokuto is worried that they want to ends things with him and won’t be showing up at all. He is in his emo mode and the whole team is trying to help. Nothing works until the reader finally shows up and they have a happy ending!! Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: It got a lil rushed at the end :( but I hope you still like it! Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x F!Reader

"He won't want to see me."

Kaori sighs, her grip on your shoulders never relenting as she continues to shove you forward. "You're being silly."

Planting the heels of your feet firmly into the ground, you effectively stop her constant pushing (pushing around the big baby known as Bokuto has definitely made you stronger then you were before), spinning around to face her. "I'm not," you huff, voice sharp, before sighing at the look she sends you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you bite your lip, looking down at your feet. "I'm really not," you whisper, voice cracking at the end of it despite yourself. You promptly choose to ignore the pitiful look the third year manager sends you, glancing behind you at the doors to the game, where you knew Bokuto was. "He was really upset with me last night. I've never seen him that angry."

"Then, why'd you come?"

Blinking, you turn back to Kaori, eyes wide.

She just shakes her head; "you say he doesn't want to see you. Well, then, why'd you come?"

Flushing faintly, you fiddle with your fingers, biting your lip. "I dunno," you mumble, voice barely audible. "It felt weird not to come to one of his games. I've been to every one since we started dating."

Sighing, Kaori lets her arms fall to her sides, taking a small step towards you. "Look, I don't know what happened last night, but he does want to see you." And at the look of disbelief you send her, she quickly adds. "He does. He'd been a nervous wreck before the game, waiting for you to come. And when you didn't, he got even worse. Coach literally had to swap him out."

Your eyes widen even further at that. Bokuto was known for having his 'emo' modes, but it was very, very rarely ever bad enough that Coach had to take the captain off the court. He was Fukurodani's star player, and when he did get into one of his modes, he didn't take very long to give him the determination to get back into it.

But to be sent to the bench?

Maybe Bokuto was more upset then you thought he was.

"I'm not asking you to choose, I just--!"

"That's exactly what it sounds like," Bokuto interrupts, voice harsh and cutting as he glares at you. "You know how important these next few weeks are. I can't slack off on training!"

"I'm not telling you to slack off!" You all but scream back, your emotions getting the best of you as you all but forget to think rationally. "I'm just asking you that you tell me what days you're training, so I can at least be there!"

Bokuto huffs, and the action is so odd for the normally exuberant and bright-eyed boy that even in your distress state, it has your heart panging painfully.

"You'll just be a distraction."

But nothing hurts more then those words.

Lips parting, you struggle to the find the words. Bokuto has never said such hurtful words before, nor do you both ever really get into arguments. However, what has you railing is the fact that up until this point, you'd thought that your presence at both games and training had been comforting to Bokuto.

He always talked about how he loved having you there, loved being able to show off what he'd learned or perfected. He'd always told you that you being there made him feel like he was at his best.

Was that all just a lie?

“Oh,” is all you finally manage. All anger and frustration from before just dissipates with a single blink of the eye, and your heart hurts as you step back, moving to turn.

You don’t say anything. You don’t see the realization that dawns on Bokuto’s face, of what he said, of how he hurt you, and you promptly ignore the way he calls after you when you rush out of the school gym doors, wanting nothing more then to just be alone.

It’s why you came late to the game.

You spent over a half hour debating on if you should come, after having gotten ready already. When you’d finally managed to convince yourself to come, and had arrived at the gym, you’d been about to turn around and go back home when Kaori had found you.

Bokuto had told you you were a distraction. So, you hardly doubt he’d want you at one of the most important games of the season.

Still, you couldn’t deny that it hurt your heart a little at the thought of not being there for him.

“Just... Just please, go in and you’ll see.”

Turning back to Kaori, you sigh. “Fine.”

So, mustering up all your courage and strength, you make your way towards the gym, this time of your own free will, pushing the doors open with a sharp inhale. The game is in motion when you walk in, the sounds of cheering and the volleyball being smacked around the first thing you hear. As you walk past the benches, Kaori right behind you, you’re steered towards Fukurodani’s side.

You’re not allowed onto the court, but Kaori is quick to rush towards the coaches and Bokuto.

You frown when you see him; his back is turned to you, but you notice the specific notions and features that you tell you everything Kaori had said was true. His back is slouched, and his arms hang pitifully by his sides. His hair drops at the edges, turning downwards, and even though you can’t see his face, you can imagine the pout and the disappointed look in his eyes.

Kaori reaches him, and you can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s rapidly poking him on the shoulders, until he finally looks up at her and then in the direction she points; you.

You inhale sharply when his eyes meet yours, and you offer a nervous smile, terrified that he’ll be upset that you’re here. Or worse, he’ll be angry. The two of you never made up from the night before, what if you were the absolute last person he wanted to see right now?

Not to mention, he’d made it perfectly clear; you were a distraction.

But, instead, his eyes brighten, and he sits up and there’s an almost sparkle that radiates around him as a bright grin crosses his features. He looks ecstatic, and almost like he wants to bolt from his spot on the bench next to the coach to you, but Kaori holds him firm in the spot, whispering something to him.

You glance at the score board, wincing when you realize the opposite team was about to take the second set and win the game.

Turning back to Bokuto, you realize he’s standing and the coach is debriefing him; which means he’s going back onto the court. Swallowing thickly, you move to find a seat, easily finding one near the front, close to Fukurodani’s side of the court. And the minute you sit, Bokuto’s already looking at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Mustering up a smile, you nod at him, giving him a thumbs up.

They take the second set, and then, the third.

Everybody cheering for Fukurodani lets out a collective sigh of relief, and even though you hadn’t been there to see it; from what you’d gathered the first half of the game had been stressful to say the least. Everyone was in shock to see Fukurodani’s star ace so out of sorts and not on his a-game which left you feeling a little guilty.

What were you suppose to think, though? After what Bokuto had said to you?

But, when the games over, and you’re left wondering if you should approach Bokuto or just go home; you’re almost completely knocked off your feet by the large body that comes flying at you. Your name leaves Bokuto’s lips in a cry and suddenly he’s engulfing you completely, pulling you close against you and practically leaving you no breathing room.

“I didn’t mean it,” he all but spits out, as if rushed for you to understand. “What I said,” Bokuto pulls back, holding you tight by the shoulders as he looks pleadingly at you. “Please, I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I was just frustrated with it all and nervous for this game and I wasn’t thinking. And I hurt you. I really hurt you, and when you left last night, I didn’t know if I should’ve gone after you. But I thought, I should let you have your space and then you weren’t here--

“Ko. Ko!” You call, interrupting him as you desperately shake your head. He falls silent to a halt, and your hands fall on his chest, gripping his admittedly sweaty jersey inbetween your fingers, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry too. I... I wasn’t being fair.”

“No,” he adamantly shakes his head. “You were just trying to be there for me, and I pushed you aside. I’m sorry. And Y/N?”

Gently tipping your gaze up at him, Bokuto smiles down at you.

“You’re not a distraction. You never could be. You make me a better player, you help me do better. I need you.”

And honestly, that was all you wanted to hear.

Eyes watering slightly, you lick your lips; “you mean it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, “a million times over.”

Leaning into him, you let out a sigh of relief; “thank god,” you let out shakily. “Because I love coming to your training and games, I love being there for you, even if I can’t actually be with you. Just watching is enough for me.”

Squeezing you tightly, Bokuto nods; “it’s more then enough.”

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

a manny and a pedi

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst

warnings: lil bit of violence

requested: by @maximeevansblog

Its almost mine birthday so, a one with Steve, it is the readers birtday and steve is taking the reader to the hair and nail salon, and that night he has a suprise party for the reader and he is nervous that she wont like his gift but she loves his gift

word count: ~1.3k

summary: it was supposed to be "y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?" it was supposed to be romantic. why, then, did it become "that's my fiancée, you fucking asshole!" "your... your what?"

author's note: hiya peeps! okay firstly, happy birthday @maximeevansblog ! hope you have a wonderful birthday! also, im sorry if i changed your prompt a tiny bit, i hope you still like it. enjoy!

masterlist

---

"Hey lover boy, what—"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Barnes!" Steve exclaimed, startled. Bucky laughed and clapped him on the back once. "What are you doing here, are you spying?" he teased his best friend, peeking past him to look into the room outside which he found Steve standing. Y/N was inside the room, talking to a guy while holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"Y/N?! Your own girlfriend, Rogers?" Bucky admonished harshly in a whisper, pulling Steve away from the door. "It's not— I trust her completely, honest! It's the guy she's talking to, Manny. I swear to God he's trying to steal her from me—"

"Nobody is stealing me, Rogers, Manny's just a friend! No ulterior motives, he has already promised like a thousand times," Steve heard behind him and whirled around to see Y/N standing there with a smirk, an eyebrow raised. "You taking snooping lessons from Barnes now?" he muttered, "I know babe, I just—"

"Just nothing, Stevie, be happy! It's my birthday!" she laughed and gave him a tight hug, burrowing into his arms. To be honest, Y/N knew about Manny's intentions and Steve was right to worry; he flirted with her all the time, even when she insisted she was dating the ex-Captain America. But she knew better than to worry Steve.

He soothingly rubbed her back, swatting Bucky's hand away when he tried to run his fingers through her hair. "Stop it, that's my girlfriend," he pouted and both Bucky and Y/N burst out laughing. "She's like a sister; jeez, Rogers, tone it down a little bit," Bucky sighed and waved at the couple, walking away.

Steve and Y/N decided to go back to their room. They had been in a relationship for around 4 years now, and they weren't planning on stopping, ever. The only time Y/N would become Steve's ex-girlfriend was when she became his wife. Which he hoped she'd become soon, since he had a special birthday planned for her.

First, he was going to take her to a hair salon, then a manicure and pedicure, and finally, a picnic under the stars. There, he was finally going to pop the question: Y/N, will you marry me? After his retirement, that was all he wanted. A stable life; a wife, kids, maybe some pets. He was even ready to be a trophy husband, as Y/N was still in the Avengers Initiative.

"Steve? Steve!" He snapped out of his thoughts and gave Y/N a sheepish smile. "Sorry, pumpkin, lost in thoughts. So, uh, the flowers look nice," he stammered, looking everywhere but at the flowers which Y/N was putting in a vase. "Oh hush Rogers, you don't have to pretend to like them for me, I get it. I was just like that with you, you know?"

It was true, in the beginning of their relationship Y/N was what Steve was now. Jealous, overprotective, obsessed… somewhere along the line the roles were reversed. "I know, honey, I'm sorry… they're a birthday gift, I should be happy for you." He walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"It's fine. So, I've received everyone's gift but yours, where is it?" she grinned coyly, reaching up to cup his cheek. Steve smirked against her skin and spun her around, bringing them back chest to chest. "In my pants," he whispered seductively. A few seconds passed and both of them burst out laughing.

"I swear to God, Stevie, if that's your only gift I'm gonna be really disappointed." Steve pouted and leaned forward to give her a sweet kiss. "First of all, ouch," he began, "And second, no that's not the only gift. I have a really fun day planned for us, you up for it?" Y/N's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly, jumping into his arms. "Aw, Steve, I love you so much!"

"I love you too, princess. Now for the first gift—"

"Ste— oh…"

---

"I. Look. Freaking. Amazing!"

Steve smiled softly as Y/N admired herself in the mirror. They had just returned from the mani-pedi session, and Y/N was feeling the most refreshed she had in years. She had also gotten a fantastic new hairstyle, complete with a different hair colour. Y/N was feeling like a new person, all thanks to Steve. She turned to him with a huge smile.

"Words cannot express how much I love you," she began, giving him a tight hug, "But numbers can. 1 million out of 10!" Steve laughed at her excitement, gently playing with her hair as he held her close. "But the best part awaits: the picnic! We still have a few hours to go, maybe I can go some for training?"

"Sure, and I'm going to take some pictures and post them to all my social media sites! Oh my God, this is fantastic—" Steve laughed at Y/N's squeals and left the room, feeling giddier and happier than he was in the morning. You see, Steve was kind of nervous the whole day. First, it was because of Manny, second, he was worried she wouldn't like his gifts and third, will she say yes?

Two out of the three concerns were gone. It was the pesky last one that ran through his mind the whole time he was in the gym. After an hour, Steve decided to go back to their room to relax for a while under the Air Conditioner; he didn't want to be a smelly, sweaty mess on the most important night of his life.

As he was walking towards their room, though, Steve happened to bump into Y/N. And… Manny. Manny took one step forward, Y/N took a step back. One step forward, one step back as Y/N held her hands out in front of her, protecting herself. Without even bothering to know the full story, Steve rushed over and punched Manny straight on the nose.

He fell back with a groan as Y/N gasped, covering her mouth. "That's my fiancée, you fucking asshole! Have some respect for other people's relationships, she said no, no means no!" he yelled, so loud that a few others came over to check on them. Bucky, Sam, Peter, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Bruce and Natasha, all stood a few feet away, watching with wide eyes.

Y/N's head snapped towards Steve when he called her his fiancée. "Your… your what?" she whispered, and Steve finally realized what he had blurted out. Shit. "I… I was going to ask you tonight at the picnic— it was supposed to be romantic, damn it Manny, you ruined—" His speech was cut short as Y/N immediately took him in her arms, kissing him deeply.

"Yes, Steve, I will marry you," she mumbled with a small, teary smile that Steve mimicked as he brought her in for another kiss. They only stopped when they heard the massive applause coming from the others. "Congratulations, you guys, this is brilliant news! Who's the best man?" Sam hollered.

Steve hugged Y/N closer, wiping his tears off with a chuckle. "Well, I was thinking—"

"I'll be honored," Sam grinned, scowling when Bucky smacked him across the head. "He was going to ask me," Bucky sneered and Steve rolled his eyes. "If you keep bickering like that, I'll ask Bruce," he snarked and Bruce laughed as both Bucky and Sam quieted instantly. "Where's the fucking ring, Rogers, there's no proposal without a ring!"

"The ring is in the bedroom, I was training and that's no place for a precious jewel," Steve answered and Y/N smiled into his arms, burrowing her face further into his chest.

"Yes, the hair salon was great. The mani and pedi— not that Manny, Steve— was also great. But this, by far, was the best birthday present I got today," she whispered to him. "What about the sex? Am I becoming an old man now—" Y/N pushed Steve with a disgusted look on her face as everyone else gagged and groaned. "Rogers, it was a sweet moment!"

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't help myself, it just came— there it is again!"

"Blergh, fuck you, man!"

"I deserved it."

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you liked it!

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poisonedapples · 3 years

Text

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test.

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react.

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #foster au #implied past abuse #past abuse #stealing

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waka-chan-out · 4 years

Note

your fics are so good!!

idk if you take requests but if you do, could you do a third gym fic (tsukki, bokuto, kuroo, akaashi) with a switch reader?

Third Gym Reunion

akaashi, kuroo, tsukishima, & bokuto x switch!reader

Plot: Your boyfriend, Akaashi Keiji, gets invited to meet up with his old practice buddies. His friends already know you have an open relationship and are fully ready to take advantage of it.

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 8.5k (jesus christ !!)

content warning: (deep breath) established relationship, open relationship, five-some (if that’s even a word), sub!bokuto, reader calls bokuto puppy, bokuto with mommy kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), praise kink, degradation, snowballing, spanking, hair pulling, spit-roasting, finger sucking, calling tsukki his given name, spitting, in my canon akaashi and bokuto have hooked up before so you’ll see the repercussions of that in this story, don’t mind me putting in an anal warning for them here, slight exibitionism but not really, slight overstim but not really, essentially it’s filth.

“For the last time, no,” Keiji said.

“Why not? I want to meet the boys,” you whined, grasping at his forearm. He kept staring straight at the road, seemingly immune to your pleading.

“Because I know my friends. It will not end well.”

“How come? Don’t you trust them?”

Keiji laughed. “Absolutely not. Bokuto I can talk into behaving. Tsukishima and -- oh god -- Kuroo? Absolutely not.”

“What could they possibly do?”

“They know we’re more . . . open, love. They’ll try to take advantage of that.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“Babe!”

“What? You said they’re all tall, right? Are they handsome?”

Keiji shrugged, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. My answer is no.”

“Why don’t you just take me along? I’m sure they’d bring a girlfriend if they had one. You’re the lucky guy out of the three of you.”

“What if they try to . . . proposition you?”

“If they’re icky, I’ll say no.”

He turned to you, alarmed. “And if they aren’t?”

“Are you saying they aren’t?”

“Answer the question.”

“If they aren’t, I’ll look to you for approval.”

“No.”

“What? You don’t even know they’re gonna ask.”

“You haven’t met them. Bokuto is going to take one look at you and be latched onto you all night. God only knows what Kuroo will do.”

“What about the other one?”

“Who?”

“The blond.”

“Oh, Tsukki? He’ll just insult you. I doubt he’d ever sink to asking me.”

You smirked. “He sounds fun.”

“Only some --” Keiji noticed your cheeky expression. “Hey! No.”

“You never know.”

“I know.”

“Whatever you say, Kei.”

“Don’t call me that around them.”

You pouted. “Why?”

“That’s Tsukishima’s first name.”

You grinned. “So you’re saying I get to come as long as I don’t use your nickname?”

Keiji sighed. “I guess so. I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t.”

“Yay!” You hummed happily, then turned to him with a cheeky smile on your face. “Wait . . . is Bokuto the one that you--” Keiji cut you off by clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t.”

“I’m right! Oh my god, Keiji, I’m excited to meet him.”

“It’s been a long time, love. He probably doesn’t even remember.”

“Oh please, if it was with you, he remembers.”

Keiji’s brows knitted together.

“What does that mean?” he asked. You wiggled your fingers at him.

“You’ve got very memorable hands.”

His face flushed a bright red and he turned away from you.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your confident demeanor only faltered slightly when you arrived at gym three, where they all used to practice together. Only Kuroo and Bokuto were there and, as you suspected, they weren’t even remotely icky. Kuroo was tall with dark hair, his dress shirt and pants hiding a slim but muscular frame. He looked like he had just come from work. Bokuto on the other hand was huge. He wore simple sweatpants and a sweatshirt and looked thoroughly happy to be there. He was holding a volleyball and yelling when you and Keiji stepped through the doorway.

“What do you mean I’ve gotten worse? I’m a professional!”

“You’re a dumbass that can’t receive the ball.”

“And you’re a scammer!”

“Bokuto, this is my work uniform. I don’t scam people.”

“You look like a scammer.”

“I work for a legitimate company!”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding. See? Scammer.”

“Bokuto-san,” Keiji called from the doorway. “His company is real. You need to calm down.”

“Aghakshi!” Bokuto sprinted for his friend while Kuroo fell into step behind him, a pleased smile on his face. Bokuto wrapped Keiji up in a bear hug.

“You’re late, ‘Kashi. Kuroo was mean without you.”

“I’m not mean.” Kuroo placed a hand on his chest. “I am a very nice man.”

“No, you’re a scammer and a liar.”

“I’m not --”

“Guys,” Keiji butted in. He gestured behind himself to you. “This is my partner, Y/N. Please behave around them.” Both men’s eyes froze on you, making you distinctly aware of your height difference. Keiji wasn’t short by any means, but these men were huge.

“Hi,” you said, pasting a cheerful smile across your face. “It’s nice to finally meet you guys. I’ve heard all about you.”

“I guarantee we’re worse in person,” Kuroo said, eyes sparkling as he reached out to shake your hand.

“Why do you do that?” Bokuto asked, eyebrows drawn down in a frown.

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s not the truth,” Keiji stepped in, separating your hand from Kuroo’s. You hadn’t realized you were still holding it. “You’re both dorks and they know it already. Stop being weird.”

“Hi,” a bored sounding voice came from directly behind you. You turned around and shrunk against Keiji. Tsukishima stood behind you, shaggy blonde hair just barely hiding his serious eyebrows. He was thin, too, but tall. He and Kuroo were about the same size, but seeing Tsukishima so close to you made your heart pound.

“Tsukki-poo, how are you, buddy?” Bokuto yelled, pushing past you to wrap his friend up in his arms.

“Don’t call me that.” Tsukki sounded bored and annoyed, but you knew he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t miss his friends just a little bit. “Who’s the little one?” he asked, staring down at you with cold eyes. Bokuto grinned, still hanging onto him.

“That’s Akaashi’s partner. Isn’t that cool?”

“Sure. You guys fuck other people, don’t you?”

Silence. You stared at the ground, eyes wide in amused disbelief.

“That. Well. You aren’t wrong but that seems inappropriate.” Keiji was bright red and only burned brighter as he spoke.

“Not as inappropriate as you describing your sex life to us. Do they know you do that?”

“Yes, I do,” you said, staring up at him. “Slow down, lamp post. I think you need to relax.”

Kuroo let out a hyena laugh. “I like them,” he said.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Are we playing or not?”

“Playing,” Keiji said.

“Fine. Akaashi, you help tiny. Bokuto, you can be on their team.”

Bokuto frowned. “Why? You guys just have two middle blockers.”

“Kuroo can receive and both of us can spike.”

“Who’s going to set for you?” Keiji asked.

“I can,” you chimed in. Keiji’s friends all turned to you in surprise.

“I played through college. It’s only fair. Bokuto and Akaashi against me, Tsukishima, and Kuroo.”

Kuroo smiled, eyes glinting again as he stared at you. “I think that’s a brilliant plan. Ok with you, ‘Kashi?” Keiji narrowed his eyes at his friend, who still had his eyes trained on you.

“They can play setter for you. That’s it.”

The three other men looked at each other in surprise. The implication of his words was . . . jarring. You smiled nervously and walked to one side of the net. You shrugged off your jacket, revealing a thin long-sleeved shirt that no longer covered the back of your leggings. You could feel at least two men’s eyes on you, but you ignored it. All you had to do now was prove you could still play volleyball.

“You know the rules, then?” Tsukishima asked, tying his shoes tighter.

“I’ll be just fine, Tsukki-babe,” you said. He cringed at the nickname. “I’m more concerned with how Kuroo is going to play in his work clothes.

“Give me a minute, dearest,” he said, walking past you with a bag in his hands. “I brought clothes.”

“Hustle up, buddy, or we’ll start without you.”

“Shut up and practice before we lose to the chaos twins.”

Tsukki scoffed. “Like we’re going to lose to them. Bokuto’s going to go emo-mode in ten minutes, guaranteed.”

“Emo mode?” you asked. Tsukki’s brows raised and he smiled for the first time since you had met him.

“You’re dating Akaashi and you don’t know about Bokuto’s emo mode?”

“I guess not.”

He let out a delighted laugh, completely out of character but quite sweet. “God, you’re in for a treat.”

Kuroo returned in a short pair of red athletic shorts and a black t-shirt.

“Is that the same outfit you had in high school?” Keiji asked, a smile on his face.

“The very same,” Kuroo said, laughing and stretching his arms across his chest. “Well, not the exact same clothes, but the same colors. I outgrew my old stuff. I’ve gotten much bigger since high school.” He winked in your direction.

“Gross,” Tsukki said.

“Shut up.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Can we start?” He shrugged off his own jacket, revealing a long-sleeved shirt and athletic shorts.

“Who gets first serve?” Keiji asked.

“There are more of us. You guys can start,” Kuroo said.

“Bokuto, do you want to serve or should I?” Keiji turned to Bokuto, who looked grumpy at the lack of attention he was getting.

“You do it, ‘Kashi.”

“Are you sure?”

Bokuto nodded vigorously and Keiji walked to the back line. You stood up towards the net while the other men backed up on the court.

“Nice serve,” you yelled.

“Shut up. He’s on the other team,” Tsukki said, sounding exasperated.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“So, you should want to kick his ass,” Kuroo said. You laughed and Keiji hit the ball over the net.

It went to Tsukki, who easily bumped it up. It traveled high in the air, thank goodness. You were a little rusty, but this made it much easier on you.

“Left!” Kuroo called, hand in the air. You pushed the ball his way, satisfied at the way it lifted off your fingers. You missed this feeling. It landed right against Kuroo’s hand, who slammed it down. It barely grazed the top of Bokuto’s fingers before spinning off and hitting the ground. Kuroo ran for you immediately, grin on his face.

“That was great! I gotta say, I thought you were going to suck, but that was great.” He continued rambling as you turned to Tsukki.

“What did you think, tough guy? That was a nice receive.”

“It wasn’t that impressive. I just knew it had to go high so your dumbass could actually hit it.” He sneered as he spoke, but from the way he was rubbing his forearms you could tell he was excited too. Though he played on his own, you were sure he missed practicing with this group.

“I’d like to see one of your famous blocks next time,” you teased.

“Then tell Bokuto-san to receive the damn ball.” He turned away from you and walked to the back line.

“Hey!” Bokuto had gotten into a receiving position, hands on his knees waiting for your team to serve. You couldn’t help but notice how thick his thighs were, even through his sweatpants. “Can we go or is Tsukki-dude gonna keep complaining?”

“We’re going,” Tsukishima replied, picking up the volleyball that Keiji had rolled over to his feet. “Relax before you use up all the energy in your brain.” You couldn’t help but snicker. His responses were so quick. He was an ass, but he was charming in his own way.

Tsukishima took his place on the back line and easily popped the ball over the net. Bokuto received it and sent it up high. Keiji had to run for it but he got under the ball. Tsukishima and Kuroo took their places on the net, following Bokuto closely with their eyes. You backed up and bent your knees, ready to receive if they somehow missed it.

They didn’t miss it.

The ball hammered into Tsukishima’s hand and he flexed his fingers, sending it straight back down over the net. Kuroo hollered and slapped him on the back, while Bokuto drooped down and a pouty expression came over his face.

“It wasn’t a hard spike. I don’t know why you’re freaking out,” Tsukishima said as Kuroo continued chattering on about how much he’s improved.

“Aghashkiii,” Bokuto said. Tsukishima’s attention was on him in an instant, eyes twinkling.

“Oh fuck, it’s happening.” He gestured for you to come closer. “Shortie, are you watching?”

“Yes, I’m watching. What’s going on?” You approached and watched as your boyfriend’s shoulders fell in a deep sigh.

“Kashi, we have to switch,” Bokuto whined. “You can’t set it to me anymore.”

“Told you it’d be less than ten minutes,” Tsukishima said, expression smug.

“Is he gonna be okay?” you asked. Kuroo laughed.

“He’ll be fine,” he said. “He just needs his setter. Akaashi, on the other hand, will barely survive. He hasn’t had to deal with this in years.” You snickered, then briefly wondered if they knew about Bokuto and Keiji’s . . . antics back in the day.

“Does he do this on his pro team?” you asked.

“Not that I’ve seen. Either they’re better at managing it or Bokuto just goes full baby for Akaashi.” Kuroo rolled his eyes and walked away.

You laughed to yourself. What an idiot. However, he was an idiot that was wrapped around your boyfriend’s finger. Interesting.

“Bokuto-san, are you sure?” Keiji was saying. “Your setting isn’t very precise.”

“Apparently neither is my spiking.”

“Fine. Good luck.” Bokuto didn’t see Keiji shake his head as he spoke. Tsukishima grabbed the volleyball again, a wide smile on his face.

“God, I can’t wait to see this one,” he said, then raised his voice so the other men could hear him. “Akaashi, it’s coming to you!” Keiji nodded and got into position. Bokuto’s eyes were still wide and blank as he got closer to the net.

Tsukishima hit the ball right into Keiji’s arms. He bumped it up without much trouble and shouted for Bokuto.

“Get under the ball, Bokuto!” He backed up to start a spiking approach.

“I got it!” Bokuto sounded frustrated. He ran for the ball, settled underneath it, and . . .

It clattered to the gym floor behind him. His expression remained blank and focused on the air above him, even when his arms flopped down to his sides.

“Our point!” Tsukishima called, smiling again. He ducked to the other side of the net and grabbed the ball. He really was a brat.

“Bokuto --” Keiji started.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” Bokuto said, slumping to the gym floor.

“You can’t just give up like that,” Kuroo interjected, sounding more amused than frustrated.

“I can and I will. Let’s just go to dinner. I don’t want to be sweaty if we’re going somewhere nice.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were grateful that Keiji had convinced you to bring something nice to wear to the restaurant, otherwise you would have looked completely out of place. Kuroo had put his work clothes back on. Keiji had thrown on a sweater. Tsukishima wore a button-up and a vest and Bokuto was wearing a blazer with a t-shirt. Somehow, the outfits suited them.

“So,” Kuroo said between sips from a bottle of beer. “Akaashi has told us all about you.” You chuckled, pushing around the remaining rice on your plate.

“Is that so?” You glanced at Keiji, who sat beside you. His cheeks were slightly pink. He looked precious, like he was skating right on the edge of a giggle fit.

“Yep,” Kuroo continued. He had a sly smile on his face and looked all too happy to be talking to you. He leaned toward you across Tsukishima’s lap, who frowned and shoved him off. Kuroo flopped back down, leaning on an elbow on the table in front of his tall friend. “I’d say we know more about you than you know about us.”

“You know, that’s probably true.” You leaned on the table and matched his posture.

“Lame. Akaashi, why don’t you talk about us?”

Keiji took a deep sip of his drink and shook his head.

“Because I knew meeting you guys would do all the talking,” he said.

“What’s that mean?” Bokuto said a little too loudly, leaning into Keiji’s lap. Keiji looked down at him patiently, cheeks flushing a bit darker.

“It means your personalities are so aggressive that they need no explanation.”

“I’m not aggressive!”

“But your personality is.”

Bokuto frowned, not understanding but accepting the answer.

“So, what do you know about me?” you asked, turning back to Kuroo. He shrugged, staring into space to consider your question before giggling.

“What are you laughing at?” You narrowed your eyes at him. You knew exactly what he was thinking, but you wanted him to say it.

“The…nature…of your relationship with our boy Akaashi.”

“Yeah?” You tipped back your glass and grinned.

“We’ve heard all about it.”

“All?” You turned your face towards your boyfriend.

“Not even close,” he said through a smirk.

“What?” Kuroo asked, snapping his gaze to Keiji. “You’ve told us so much.”

“And there’s so much more to explore,” you said with a smug smile and exaggerated gesture.

“Yeah? With who?” Bokuto chimed in. You leaned over to Keiji.

“You’re right. That didn’t take long.” Keiji shook his head at your words and finished off his drink.

“I told you not to trust them,” he said. He turned his attention back to Bokuto. “With anyone, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto’s eyebrows nearly raised off his head.

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Truly anyone? Or are you one of those couples that acts like they’re kinky but really just watches porn together or something?” You were surprised that Tsukishima decided to chime in now, but you weren’t surprised by his comment. He was the type that had to see to believe. You narrowed your eyes at him and ran a finger down the back of his hand, which still clutched his glass on the table.

“Try me and find out,” you said. His eyebrows twitched and he looked away.

“Wait wait wait wait,” Kuroo cried, leaning over Tsukishima again. “Is that an offer?”

“What would you say if it was?” you asked. Keiji scoffed.

“Seriously?” Bokuto asked, eyes huge. You shrugged and looked at your boyfriend.

“What do you think, Kei?”

Tsukishima choked on his drink, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Kei?” he asked, a deep flush crawling up his cheeks.

“Jesus Christ,” Keiji said, rubbing his eyes. You laughed.

“Sorry, Tsukki. Short for Keiji.” Tsukki’s eyes remained trained on your face, looking not-quite-convinced with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. You turned back to Keiji before you could get more distracted. “Well?” He let out a long sigh.

“Whatever you want, love.” He looked defeated, but you could tell he wasn’t unenthusiastic about the idea. You saw the way he had cupped a hand on Bokuto’s hip earlier, supposedly to keep him steady as he leaned into his lap. You couldn’t suppress a grin as you glanced back at the other men at the table. Bokuto looked confused, eyes still wide. Kuroo had paled, and Tsukishima seemed to still be reeling from you accidentally using his given name.

“Our place is closest,” you said. All three men looked like they had just been slapped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off awkard. There was plenty of time between your statement at the bar, getting the check, everyone finding their way back to your and Keiji’s shared apartment, and getting in a mental place where you could bring them all into your bedroom. Keiji had thrown a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube onto the foot of the bed, making everyone’s eyes go wide. Without kissing, touching, some sort of foreplay, it felt awkward, but truthfully, you had no connection to these men. They were just hot strangers that knew your boyfriend. You could do this.

“Who do you want first, love?” Keiji asked. You stared at the expectant faces in front of you. Kuroo’s eyes were glinting. He would be fun, but you didn’t want to jump into him right away. Tsukki was a silent brat, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You’d fix that later. He wasn’t a problem to deal with first.

“Bo?” you said. The large man perked up at your words, wide eyes trained on yours. “Come here, baby.” You gestured for him and he complied, swallowing hard as he crossed the room to you. You stood as he got to you and pushed him to a seated position on the bed.

“You seem eager, puppy,” you said, sinking to your knees in front of him. He inhaled sharply.

“I’m not--oh!” His sentence was cut off as you palmed him through his sweatpants.

“You aren’t what, Bo? You can tell me.”

“I-- shit.” His eyes fluttered closed as you established a slow rhythm, feeling him getting harder at your touch.

“You aren’t going to talk to me?” you pouted. You tried to sound sympathetic but you spoke through a small smile. “You haven’t been touched like this in a while, have you?” He shook his head and let out an unsteady breath.

“Want me to help?” you asked. “Want me to suck your cock?” There were several inhales from the wall behind you, but you kept going. You rose up a bit, keeping a hand between his legs as you kissed along his neck.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Aw, puppy, you know you have to ask better than that.”

“Will you -- fuck -- will you suck my cock?”

“So close, Bo. What do you call me?” There was the sound of Tsukki saying “seriously?” before he made a quiet grunting noise. Someone had elbowed him in the side.

“Ma’am?” Bokuto asked.

“Is that what you want to call me?”

He inhaled sharply and your hand ground into him harder. “I don’t want to say it.”

“Aw, puppy, why? You know I’m here to help.” You closed your teeth lightly on his earlobe and he exhaled hard, making you almost worried for his poor lungs. You whispered into his ear. “I want to hear you call me something pretty when you come down my throat.” His hips bucked up into your hand and he muttered something under his breath.

“What did you say, Bo? I couldn’t hear you.”

“M--” his eyes darted to the other men standing against the wall. You grabbed his face and made him look at you.

“Don’t worry about them. What do you want to call me, pup?”

“Mommy,” he said, so quiet you could barely hear him. You drew in a sharp breath. You were expecting something good, but that exceeded expectations. Your reaction seemed to give him a little confidence, because he spoke louder this time. “Mommy, please suck my cock.”

“Jesus Christ,” said a voice behind you. It sounded like Kuroo.

You grinned. “Good boy. Help mommy take off your pants.”

He immediately did as he was told, tugging them off and letting you throw them to the side. He was big, a little longer and thicker than Keiji. You felt heat rising in your stomach imagining your boyfriend in this same position years ago, using his adept fingers and skilled tongue on the man sitting in front of you.

“So big, puppy,” you said, smiling up at him. Let me help.” Before he could respond you had settled your lips over the head of his cock, swirling your tongue before taking him in deeper. He swore loudly and buried a hand in your hair. You hummed at his noises and moved your head faster. The room was filled with lewd noises that were quickly drowned out by Bokuto’s breathy whimpers.

“Talk to her, Bokuto-san, don’t be shy,” Keiji said. This is why you loved Keiji. He could swap personalities so fast, especially with the right partner.

“Feels good,” Bokuto stuttered, head tipping back. You heard footsteps approaching and felt a warm figure kneeling down behind you.

“Good girl.” It was Keiji. He leaned his face into the side of yours and undid your pants, slipping his hand down the front of them. “So wet already, love. I knew you were a slut, but Jesus.” He slipped his fingers inside you for a moment, wetting them before circling your clit quickly. He had a setter’s hands, precise and sure in every movement. You moaned and took Bokuto all the way into your mouth. He exhaled sharply and swore above you.

“You look so pretty with his cock down your throat, darling. Go faster for him, yeah? He likes it.” You complied, bobbing your head up and down and eliciting a series of loud noises from Bokuto.

“I want you to come when he comes, love. You’ll be good and do that for me, right?” You hummed in what you hoped would be interpreted as agreement and you sunk into Keiji’s touch. He knew exactly what to do to send you reeling in no time at all.

“Bokuto-san, tell her when you’re about to cum, yeah?” Bokuto nodded frantically and Keiji slapped his thigh. Bokuto jumped at the sudden strike, bucking his hips deeper into your mouth. “Use your words, Bokuto-san.”

“Yes. Fuck. I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Keiji said, rubbing faster circles against you. You continued to moan and you felt Bokuto twitch in your mouth. You knew he was close and thankfully, you were, too.

“Close, ‘Kashi.”

“Tell them, not me.”

“Mommy, please.” Bokuto moaned loudly. “Gonna cum soon.” Keiji leaned in close to your ear again, never losing his pace on you.

“Don’t swallow. Make him clean up his mess,” he said. You reached behind and squeezed his arm so he knew you understood, shaking a bit with your own approaching orgasm.

“Fuck. Holy shit,” Bokuto groaned, hips bucking as he came into your mouth. You continued moving on him as Keiji sent you over the edge, moaning around Bokuto’s cock.

“Dirty girl,” Keiji said through a laugh, pulling his hand away and returning to the wall. You pulled off of Bokuto, making sure not to accidentally swallow as you straddled his lap. He twitched at your advances, staring wide-eyed at your still-full mouth.

“Mommy, too -- fuck. Too sensitive.” You smiled and pressed your lips against his. He parted his lips instinctively, allowing you to kiss his own cum into his mouth. He swallowed obediently, moaning a bit as he did so. You smiled into the kiss, grinding your hips a little against him. He inhaled in a panic and pulled away, burying his face into your chest. You laughed and ran a hand lovingly through his hair.

“Good boy, Bokuto. Such a good boy. Should we let Kuroo go next? Wanna watch him fuck mommy?” Bokuto nodded against you, chest still heaving. You turned your head to face the wall. Keiji was smirking. Kuroo’s face was bright red. Tsukki didn’t look too phased, although you could see that he was fully hard.

“Kuroo, hon,” you said. He stiffened and pushed off the wall. “Bokuto says he wants to watch you fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Don’t be difficult. Get over here.”

Kuroo swallowed hard and approached you. You planted a quick kiss on Bokuto’s head and climbed off of him. He let out a gasp at the loss and laid back on the bed.

“Where do you want me?” Kuroo asked. You stared down at his hands and the growing bulge in his shorts and shook your head.

“No. Tell me where you want me.” You began working off the buttons of his shirt.

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Lay back.”

You smiled and did as you were told, scooting farther up onto the bed. Bokuto shifted so he wasn’t in the way. Kuroo smiled and leaned on top of you, capturing your lips in his. He was eager, tongue slipping easily into your mouth. You could still feel the happy curve of his lips as he moved against you, sliding one hand deep in your hair and the other curving around your waist. You kissed him back enthusiastically, surprised but delighted by the genuine affection. The hand on your waist slipped up under your shirt, like he wanted to pull it off but was too focused on the kiss to pull away. You tugged away from his lips and he followed, eyes still closed. You chuckled and sat up a bit under him, pulling your shirt over your head and capturing his face between your hands, pulling into another eager kiss. He breathed a sigh of appreciation and ran his hands over your newly exposed skin.

He pulled away and buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and lightly biting the sensitive skin. You sighed and tangled your hands in his insane hair. He kissed down, stopping just above the fabric of your bra. He tipped his head up to look at you, eyes bright. He licked his lips and you felt heat reaching the very tips of your fingers. You ran your fingers through his hair and nodded, giving him all the go ahead he needed to pull down the front of your bra and take a nipple into his mouth. You sighed again, grip in his hair tightening. He let out a huff at your reaction and circled his tongue. He bit down gently and you let out a gasp, locking your legs around his midsection.

“Kuroo,” you breathed. He didn’t break away from you, just let his eyes flicker up to meet yours. You felt a blissed out smile reach your lips at the sight. “Take off your fucking clothes.” He sucked harder on your chest for just a moment, eliciting a gasp from you, then leaned back down to kiss you again, grin on his lips. He only kissed you for a moment, tongue hungry in your mouth, before tugging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side recklessly.

“Oi!” Tsukishima called out from the side of the room. You and Kuroo both laughed as you worked in tandem to get his belt loose and pants open, kissing clumsily as you went. As soon as you got them down and he kicked them to the side, you pulled your legs up and wiggled your pants down. Kuroo reached behind you and unclasped your bra (something that took even Keiji several tries and a hearty laugh) and began to kiss over your chest again. You tipped your head back and reached down, wrapping your hand around his already hard cock through his boxer briefs. He hissed against you, biting down where he was. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Jesus,” he said as he pulled away again, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your lace undergarments and tugging them down. He stared at you for just a second before snatching up a condom and ripping it open with his teeth. “Flip over,” he said, voice rougher. You complied instantly, breathing heavily from the kisses and adrenaline. You were faced with a stunned Bokuto, who you had forgotten was still laying -- or now, sitting up -- on the bed. You laughed and reached out for him. His eyes were wide as he laced his fingers through yours. From behind you, Kuroo teased your entrance. You sighed and leaned your head forward onto your arm, bracing yourself. He pushed in gently at first, shuddering out a deep breath at the contact. Impatiently, you pushed back onto him, feeling his full length sinking into you.

“Fuck,” he groaned. He leaned forward on top of you while your fingernails dug into the back of Bokuto’s hand. He began moving his hips slowly, the curve of his dick hitting perfectly inside of you. You leaned forward onto your hand, still clasped with Bokuto’s. Kuroo sped up his strokes, leaning back up and getting a bit rougher. His hands found their way to your hips, tugging you back against him as he moved. You choked out a moan as he pushed into you deeper with the new motion.

“Kuroo,” Keiji said. Kuroo apparently didn’t hear, swearing under his breath. Keiji scoffed. “Tetsuro!”

“Fuck -- what, Akaashi?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Kuroo ignored him, slowing down for a moment, hitting a particularly deep part of you that made you whine and bury your face further against Bokuto’s hand. “Kuroo, hit them.”

“What?” Kuroo sounded slightly incredulous, or at least as incredulous as he could sound when out of breath and buried inside of you.

“Spank. Them.”

Kuroo chuckled slightly and brought one of his hands back to rest on your ass, rubbing it before winding it back and landing a heavy smack against you. You bucked up at the motion, your back losing its arch for a moment. Your mouth fell open and you felt Bokuto reach up, running a finger along your lip in fascination. You looked up at him, tongue lolling out to make contact with the digit. His eyes widened and he pressed the finger onto your tongue. Kuroo landed another hit on your ass and you jumped forward, taking Bokuto’s finger far into your mouth. He shuddered out a breath. Kuroo smacked you again and you moaned loudly, still maintaining eye contact with Bokuto. His breath was picking up as he watched you, tongue swirling around his finger.

“God, you really like this, don’t you?” Kuroo asked, a smile evident in his voice. “What if I . . .” he reached forward and gathered the hair at the nape of your neck, tightening his fist so he was pulling it without yanking your head backwards. Your eyes fell shut and you let out a muffled moan, the sensation adding a layer of delicious pain on top of the pleasure racking your body.

“I knew it,” Kuroo continued. “Jesus, you’re fun.” He gasped, hips jumping slightly. You heard a scoff at his words. Your eyes flickered open and found the two men still sitting on the side of the room. Keiji was smiling, but Tsukishima looked like he was trapped in a haze, unable to fully comprehend what was happening in front of him. You pulled off of Bokuto’s finger with one last slide of your tongue. He shivered and brought his hand back against his chest.

“Tsukki,” you sang. Tsukishima looked up, eyebrow cocked. You let out a gasp and your eyes flickered closed for a second as Kuroo landed another smack. You smiled at the tall blond and the expression dropped off his face. “Come here, Tsukishima.” He rolled his eyes.

“You seem occupied,” he said, voice wavering just a bit. You bit down on your hand as Kuroo slowed down again, dragging his cock nearly fully out before steadily driving back in.

“Tsukishima, I’m not playing that game,” you managed through a gasp. “Get over here.” He rolled his eyes and stood, beginning to approach you. Your eyes met his hungrily. “Take off your shirt,” you said as he stopped in front of you. You moved so you could face him, Kuroo moving with you and adjusting to the new angle easily. Tsukishima made no move to follow your instruction, staring down at you with an unreadable but distinctly gruff expression on his face. You scoffed and reached out, grabbing his waistband and pulling him to you. You could see his dick, long and thin, fully hard through his slacks. Impatiently, you pulled at the button until it opened. You yanked down, freeing him from his pants and undergarments in one motion. You wasted no time leaning forward and wrapping your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning as Kuroo picked up his pace again.

“Jesus fuck,” Kuroo gasped. Tsukishima didn’t look like he knew what to do with his hands, holding them up by his chest in surprise. You hummed around his cock, looking up at him. He held eye contact, previously cocky eyes wide. Kuroo let out a groan and dug the tips of his fingers into your hips.

“Fuck. I’m cl -- fuck!” he groaned, hips stuttering. He wasn’t even capable of finishing a coherent thought, pounding into you from behind. He moved your entire body with each stroke, making you involuntarily take Tsukishima deeper into your mouth at every forward motion. Tsukki finally relaxed a bit, hands gently burying in your hair as Kuroo’s swearing got louder. He leaned down, supporting himself with one arm on the bed and the other wrapped around your midsection. He plucked at your nipples, elliciting surprised sounds from you that were muffled against Tsukishima.

You felt the moment Kuroo came. His face pushed into your back, panting breaths heavy against your skin as his hips broke their rhythm. He pulsed inside of you, dragging a groan from deep in your chest. Tsukishima’s grip on your hair tightened and he let out a sharp hiss, clearly trying to hold back any noise.

Kuroo finally pulled out and tipped away from you, probably realizing how close he was to Tsukishima. He stood up and took a few steps back, brushing his black hair, now sticky with sweat, out of his eyes. You popped your mouth off of Tsukishima and ran your hands up quickly, popping the buttons of his shirt open from the bottom up.

“What--” he started. You cut him off.

“Bo, baby, move.” Your order was gentle but firm. Bokuto recognized your tone immediately, scrambling pantsless up from the bed and moving out of your way. You sat up on your heels and pulled on Tsukishima’s shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed. He sat down and backed against the headboard, brows furrowed. His face flushed when he looked down and realized he was fully exposed, but you remedied that easily, crawling into his lap and silencing whatever snarky remarks were boiling in his brain to calm his nerves. You planted a heated kiss against his lips.

He was a gentler and less smiley kisser than Kuroo, but more precise. Every movement of his tongue felt like a calculated effort, feeling out your weak spots and taking advantage of them once he found them. You sighed and sat farther down in his lap, grazing his cock between your legs. You ground down slightly before realizing -- shit. You were so distracted by the kiss that you almost forgot. You leaned back, breaking the kiss but remaining in his lap. You snatched up a condom and wagged it in front of Tsukishima’s eyes. He scoffed.

“No need to act so giddy,” he said. You just smiled at him, taking in the vision of the red faced man in front of you. His lips were slick and parted, like he was desperately waiting for another kiss, and his glasses were slowly de-fogging. You laughed and captured his lips in yours again, biting lightly at his bottom lip and just barely teasing him with your tongue. When you pulled away, he followed you slightly, then immediately sat back and blinked, like he was trying to cover up the motion. You huffed a laugh and slid his glasses off his face.

“Kashi,” you said, holding them out behind you without breaking eye contact with Tsukishima. You felt them leave your hand and you returned your touch to Tsukki’s face, running your thumb along his bottom lip.

“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly laughing again at the way his face turned an even darker shade of red.

“Agashi,” Bokuto whined behind you. You laughed and peered over your shoulder. Bokuto was squirming. He had put his boxer-briefs back on, but you could see that he was hard again, probably painfully so.

“Keiji, love, take care of him,” you said, carefully putting on the gentle tone you used with Bokuto. Keiji slid next to Bokuto, whose eyes were now wide, and you turned back to Tsukishima knowing your boyfriend had everything under control. You heard Bokuto gasp and Kuroo mutter “Jesus,” but you just held the condom up to Tsukishima’s mouth. He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Open,” you replied, holding it closer to his mouth. His eyes grew wide but he leaned in, opening his mouth and closing his teeth on the wrapper. You smirked at him and tugged at the foil. You pulled out the condom when it was finally open and tossed the wrapper from Tsukishima’s lips to the side. You replaced it with your lips as you moved your hand between your legs and slipped the condom onto Tsukki. He gasped at the contact, leaning his head back against the headboard. You followed him with your lips and deepened the kiss as you wrapped a hand around him, lining him up with your entrance. You sunk down, not giving either of you a chance to really react until he was fully sheathed inside of you. He broke from your lips and leaned his forehead against your cheek. He let out a shuddering gasp and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned your face and kissed his forehead, then lifted up slightly and sunk back down onto him. He gasped and you began to rock more steadily, slowly picking up the energy and pace.

“Fuck,” he muttered. His head fell to the crook of your neck and he let out a sigh, fingers burying into your skin.

“God, you feel good, Tsukki,” you breathed into his hair. He grunted in response, lips pursing to kiss at your skin. You sighed and tipped your head back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. His hands shifted to your hips and he gripped them tightly, pulling down as you slid over him, making him hit you somehow even deeper. You gasped and threw your arms around his neck.

“Shit,” you whispered as he took control of your pace, pulling you down hard. “Tsukki,” you sighed, ruffling his hair.

“I--” he started, but was cut off by a sweet, choked sound that came from deep in his throat. “Say my name again.”

“Tsukki,” you said. He shook his head against you. As he tipped his head up towards yours, you heard the familar click of the lube cap and felt weight sink onto the edge of the bed. You were unsure who it was until Bokuto let out a strangled gasp. Ah. Keiji really was taking care of him. You pressed a quick kiss against Tsukishima’s lips and leaned your forehead against his.

“Say my name like earlier,” he said. “The other one.” Your eyes widened and you smiled.

“Are you sure, Kei?” you teased. He groaned. “Aw, you like that?” He didn’t respond, but his face was screwed up into a look of concentration and pleasure that almost looked like pain.

“Again.”

“You feel so good, Kei.” He moaned, a sound you didn’t think you were going to be lucky enough to hear. “So good. Fuck, Kei.” You scattered his name into bouts of praise and swearing. He removed one of his hands from you, making you have to keep up the pace with your hips. You didn’t understand why until his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, starting to draw small, focused circles against it. Your hips stuttered out of pace and you moaned, tightening your grip around his neck. You were so oversensitive from Kuroo and Keiji’s advances that the movement on your clit was almost too much. Your breathing was coming in gasps.

“Bokuto-san, relax,” you heard Keiji say, though it felt like it was a thousand miles away.

“Get off of my fucking foot,” Tsukishima said, sounding frustrated even though the words were strained. Your eyebrows pinched together, frustrated.

“Move, Bokuto,” Keiji said, and you felt the weight shift again.

“Kei,” you said, loud enough to give Tsukishima pause. “Don’t pay attention to them.” He looked suprised.

“I --” he started.

“No.” You cut him off with a particularly devastating buck of your hips, and his expression changed. Just a moment later, though, he was glancing behind you at the source of the muffled gasps and whines behind you. You grabbed him by the jaw and stopped moving.

“Open,” you said. His eyebrows knit together.

“What?”

“Open.” You ran your thumb down his bottom lip, holding it for a moment before he complied. You leaned above him and spat.

Shock was the first thing to flash over Tsukki’s eyes, followed very quickly by something dark. He swallowed, staring into your eyes like you just set him on fire.

“Learn your lesson?” you asked. He said nothing, but his hands returned to your hips and dug into them, like he was begging you to move. “Good,” you said through a smile. You began to rock into his lap once more.

He let out a genuine moan, choppy and desperate and gorgeous. It was like that one motion made him yours, completely. His thumb returned to your clit, rubbing faster and more desperate circles. You crashed your lips into his, moaning into his mouth as he returned the favor. There was something so intimate in his motions. It was hard to believe this Tsukishima was the same asshole from earlier.

“Fuck, Kei, I’m close,” you said. Tsukki nodded, forehead still pressed against yours.

“Come with me,” he mumbled. If you weren’t so close to him you wouldn’t have believed he said it, but sure enough, you were both leaning against each other like your lives depended on it. He started swearing, small “fuck”s that grew in volume the closer he got. You could feel yourself reaching the peak, eyes squeezing shut and body locking. Right when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, right when you were about to beg Tsukishima to hurry up and finish so you could die against him, his grip around you tightened. He could still move you, riding out his orgasm inside of you, but he squeezed you so close you thought you could shift into his chest if you really wanted to. Your body shook, jerking involuntarily against his thumb. Both of you were panting, and it felt like the world went black around you as you kept your faces pressed together.

You couldn’t tell when the moment ended, but when it did Tsukishima was kissing along your shoulders and allowing you to slump against him, arms barely holding you up.

“Why don’t you lay down?” he whispered, and you nodded, feeling almost drunk. You swung your leg off of him, shuddering at the loss of him inside of you. He laughed at your reaction and pressed a kiss against your forehead as you laid on your back.

“Love, scoot closer,” you heard Keiji say. Fuck. They weren’t done with you yet. You opened your eyes to finally see what had been happening behind you while you were falling apart in Tsukishima’s lap.

Bokuto was laying on his back, legs pitched up slightly. Keiji’s hand was pressed flush up against him, preparing him for who knows what else. Your eyes widened and, without thinking, you did what your boyfriend told you to do.

“Bokuto, turn around,” Keiji said, and Bokuto did as he was instructed. He looked blissed out and shaky, but allowed himself to be pushed forward until his face was laying against one of your thighs. He smiled up at you, as if he was greeting an old friend intead of laying ass up with your boyfriend positioning himself behind him.

“Y/n, open your legs.” Fuck. Bokuto’s cheeks flushed and he turned to look back at Keiji.

“‘Kashi, I--” He was cut off by one slow, perfect thrust by Keiji. You did as you were told, staring up at Keiji’s face in awe. His eyes had closed and he looked unbelievably content.

“You know what to do, Bokuto,” he said. “Just make sure you breathe.”

With that, Bokuto buried his mouth against you.

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation, like Keiji’s commands were magic. He had been like this as long as you had known him, but judging by the surprised sounds Kuroo and Tsukki made, it wasn’t the Akaashi they knew.

Bokuto seemed hungry, like you were the one thing holding him back from starvation. His tongue made long strokes against you, making your hips shake. He stopped every so often to focus on your clit, swirling his tongue or sucking harshly. You weren’t even sure what kind of noises you were making at this point, just that someone was making a lot of sound and it was more than likely you. Akaashi’s thrusts were slow and deep, making Bokuto groan against you. It was an overwhelming feeling, your boyfriend fucking someone else into you. With how oversensitive you were, you didn’t think you’d last long.

Your orgasm wasn’t a slow build this time. It was choppy and harsh, almost painful as Bokuto sucked enthusiastically on your clit. Your legs couldn’t stay open on their own, crushing his head between your thighs as you made a panicked noise. The rumble of another groan from Bokuto is what sent you over, back arching and head leaning back into the bed. You were breathless, not making much sound as your body reacted out of your control. You had to push Bokuto off of you and slide away in order to get him to stop. He was so eager it seemed like he would have tried for another if you hadn’t escaped.

Now all you could do was watch as Akaashi leaned forward, taking Bokuto’s cock in his hand and timing movement with his hips. Bokuto was drooling onto the bed, making the sweetest whining noises you had ever heard. He came quickly after that, crying Akaashi’s name into the comforter as his lower body jerked. Akaashi fucked him through it and followed soon behind, face scrunching and breaths coming out as gasps.

Bokuto collapsed against the bed as Keiji pulled out, yanking off the condom and tucking himself back into his slacks like nothing had happened. God, he was a piece of work sometimes.

You stood, collecting your clothing from the floor. You pulled on your shirt, not bothering with your bra. You didn’t even know where it was.

You missed the left leg hole of your pants twice before Kuroo finally wrapped an arm around you and helped you get them up, even buttoning them for you once they were on.

“Well,” you said, but it came out strained. You coughed, smiling up at the group of men. “That was . . .” You couldn’t finish the sentence, letting out a choppy laugh instead.

“That was,” Kuroo agreed, laughing with you.

“If you guys would be willing . . .” Tsukishima said.

“Can we please do that again?” Bokuto said, a bit too loud for the room. Keiji’s eyes grew wide.

“Not right now!” he said. Bokuto laughed.

“Not right now. But sometime?” They all turned to face you, looking precious and eager. You laughed, then sighed heavily.

“Absolutely.”

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