#echoes his words in their earlier convo

[subtlybrilliant]

The Dark Urge being trapped in the mindflayer pod 🤝 Astarion being entombed

[lifblogs]

It’s surgery day for me! But, still, I have writing. Tech whump and soft Omega feels coming up. Convo starts with Omega wanting to volunteer to give Tech a blood transfusion.

The door opened and Omega rushed in, hand raised.

“I volunteer!”

Tech managed a small laugh despite his pain and exhaustion, and poison burning further through him.

“Omega, I could have had my pants down,” he admonished.

She covered her eyes. “Sorry.”

“I don’t,” he informed her.

“Ah, right.”

She uncovered her eyes, and came over, leaning in against the operating table. “But can I? Please?”

Echo rushed in, looking a bit bewildered. “Sorry, I was doing a patrol and she rushed off ahead of me before I could grab her.”

“It’s fine,” Hunter said. But then he took Omega’s shoulder, and drew her aware. He got on one knee to be more level with her. “Omega, we can’t ask you to do this for Tech.”

“You’re not letting me do anything to help him,” she cried.

“You’re too small. You can’t do it.”

“I was gonna do it,” Wrecker said, coming up with what looked like charcoal in his hands. “Tech, is this what you need?”

“Yes, that’ll be enough. Start putting it into the machine to my left.”

Wrecker started his work, also letting the new catheters he’d found earlier dangle off of the machine that hummed as he brought it to life.

“Still, I want to do something.”

Suddenly, crashing sounded along the starboard passageways.

“You want to do something?” Echo asked. “Let’s go fight some mynocks.”

Tech grimaced as Echo and Omega left.

“Hunter, perhaps there isn’t time--”

“Time for what? To save you? We’ll make time.”

“Maybe you should go.”

Hunter started helping with setting up, Wrecker picking up the pace.

“We’re not leaving you.”

A growl reached their ears.

Into his comms Hunter said, “Echo, what’s the situation out there?”

They heard firing on his end, and more dynamic vocalizations from the mynocks,

“We have two mynocks heading right down the passageway,” Echo responded. “They’ve broken through the last of the blast doors.”

Hunter tilted his head. “Wrecker, seal the door, but don’t break anything. We might need Echo and Omega back in here.

“Tech, what’s next?”

Remembering how Hunter had almost thrown up from the previous procedure, he was almost hesitant to say, but he responded, “We’ll need to insert the catheter into my internal jugular vein.” Hunter swallowed roughly. “And thread it down my right atrium.”

“Internal jugular vein,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed what he needed where Wrecker had left it, all the while feeling where his own internal jugular vein was, probably to make sure he had the right spot. “Right atrium, right atrium. Wait, your heart?”

Tech had been wondering when that realization would hit him.

“Doors are sealed,” Wrecker called, coming back over.

“Set up the blood transfusion,” Hunter said. “You’ll have to do it on your own. I’m busy with uh… this.” His face went pale, and green around the mouth. Tech wondered if he himself looked just as sick, or worse.

Wrecker got to work with taking some of his armor off, and rolling up his sleeve.

“All right, on three.”

“I hate when you say that,” Tech complained.

“One…”

“Because you always do it on two.”

“Two.”

“Ow!”

Hunter put a hand to his head to hold him steady as the catheter went in, and in, and in. In a way it wasn’t as bad as the one earlier, but in another way, it was much worse. His body was telling him this was wrong, that this vein had to be protected at all costs, and where the catheter was headed had to be protected.

“M-maybe you should grab the scanner,” Tech said.

“After. You can look at it. I think I can do this by feel.”

“Are you… trying to… kill me?” Tech asked, words interspersed with cries.

“Echo, update!” Hunter called.

The pain worked its way down his chest at a slight angle, and then it went lower.

“Kriff, I went too far,” Hunter muttered, noticing by feel that the catheter hadn’t had to angle upwards.

He pulled it back a bit, and Tech did his best not to throw up all over Hunter.

“One mynock’s dead,” Echo said. “The other injured. It withdrew for now. I think we scared them off. I don’t know how many more there are.”

An idea managed to strike Tech while he was in the throes of pain, chest trying to heave upwards, while Hunter pressed a hand down to hold him steady.

“Get back in here,” Hunter ordered.

Tech said, “No, Echo. Find a terminal. Turn on the ship’s power, but not all of it. Lead the mynocks away from here, preferably towards the bridge. They might ignore the medbay if they have a much more potent power source to feed off of.”

“Good idea. But get Omega back in here. We sealed the door. Can you seal it behind you after she’s in?”

“Of course.”

Tech accidentally screamed into the comm, and Hunter switched it off.

“Nearly got it…” Hunter said. He happened to say kriff right as Omega was walking in.

“Why does everyone get to say it but me?”

But then she realized the situation, and rushed over, placing her bow down, so she could grip Tech’s hand and arm.

Tech tried to hold in his pained sounds, but ended up letting out a low groan.

“Hunter, are you almost done?” Wrecker asked. “I need to reach his IV.”

“Let’s see.” Hunter grabbed the scanner.

“I thought you couldn’t—” Tech started to say.

“You can’t miss a heart on these things.”

He scanned it over his chest, and then Omega was the one to say, “That looks right!”

Hunter taped the line down against his neck, and then hooked him up to the machine.

“Everyone ready?” he asked.

Tech nodded feebly.

Hunter turned on the machine, Wrecker connected to his IV, the medicine he had needed finishing some time ago.

They all breathed a sigh of relief as Wrecker’s blood started to go into Tech, and Tech’s poisoned blood started being drawn out of him.

Before anyone said anything Omega started releasing the binders, and Tech breathed a sigh of relief.

He was still shaking though, and sweating quite a bit.

Omega didn’t seem to care, putting a hand on his forehead, and then brushing it through his hair.

He smiled at her.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your throat?” he asked.

“Barely hurts. And stop worrying about me. I have to worry about you. I am not losing you.”

Tech was relieved to move his limbs again, no matter how weak they felt, and he caressed Omega’s cheek. Her kindness amongst all this was going to make him break down more than the pain and fear was going to.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 10]

Warnings and Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint). Should know the drill on my use of Mando'a, italics and my headcanons by now if you've been following along with the AU series this far. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Mentions of blood and bloodstains. More! Domestic! Clones! More wholesome sibling stuff to go around! Expanding on Hunter and Crosshair's "little" convo together using instances of dialogue to reference what happened in the past. Medic!Reader had a bad day (like predicted) so there's some mild angst/sadness after a brief moment of panic - there’s a line that could be interpreted as an instance of police brutality, but it’s kept very vague - but Hunter's there to make it better without diminishing feelings much like earlier that morning. No one's feeling bad on his watch today [I feel like Hunter's the kind of person who becomes a lot happier when he's in love… so~ At least that's the vibe I'm going for for this AU!] if he can help it. So that means more domestic Clone stuff along with more flavors of hurt/comfort!! Who's up for a little home cooking and snuggles?

Word-count: 5,656

Good to hear. No such luck. Up to elbows in injuries and bacta and disinfectant. It's a kriffing madhouse today like I was worried about.

> Sorry to hear, sweetheart. I'll take Omega with me to make sure Spoon's settling in okay. 

thanks Hunt

> Anytime, mesh'la.

"Was 'Hunt' a nickname? How cute." Echo teases once he's sent off the message, handing his brother the device after he's gotten his shoes laced up to set off with Omega. "Very funny, Ech."

Echo laughs in partial disbelief at the dismissive tone. "You think it's a typo?" C'mon, if she shortened the name of their explosive ordnance expert to Wreck as a nickname, it made plenty of sense to the ARC for Hunt to be a nickname too.

"Could be. Or she was in a rush." Hunter suggests with a shrug. "She's too busy to check on Crosshair's new best friend during lunch." 

Echo shrugs in return, ignoring for a moment the sniper's laugh from another part of the house. "Good point. Just hope the kid's going to have a moment to eat something between patients." It wasn't exactly a regular thing for the medic to call her day at the clinic something beyond just a little hectic, but manageable to his memory.

"We'll be back!" Omega calls into the house as she and Hunter skip down the stoop together, cheerfully waving good-bye over her shoulder. It isn't long before she looks at him with an expression he knows means she's got questions or things she wants to say that she's refraining from saying. "Out with it," Hunter urges softly with a hand on his sister's shoulder, "What's on your mind, ad'ika?" 

Omega glances at her shoes, kicking a pebble to the side as she walks alongside him, trying and struggling to match his stride. "What did… you and Crosshair talk about?" She smiles appreciatively when Hunter takes notice and makes an effort to slow down his walk and fall out of the habitual march.

"Oh, a lot…" Hunter replies simply, unsure what to say at first honestly. "Kaller, for sure. And the chips… spent a while wondering how that Jedi-kid… uh, Padawan… how the Padawan must be doing if he's survived this long after I let him escape." Hunter steals a glance at Omega, knowing she's heard him argue with Cross about it in the past. Those venomous arguments in the cockpit or cargo-hold of the Marauder while so deep in hyperspace it was often another standard cycle before they'd reach the next planet. Seen their bruises when things came to blows before Wrecker could strong-arm them apart.

Heard them both grumble that "Maybe it would be preferable to be eaten by some of the megafauna Tech's warning us about than see the other's face any time soon!" when they stalked down the gangplank upon landing on Kashyyyk. Hunter knew she'd stayed behind with Wrecker who'd promptly trotted back into the attack shuttle in dismay while Tech trailed after Crosshair, and Echo after Hunter, trying to talk sense into the respective brothers. 

"The first thing Hunter does every time we get an excuse to come to Kashyyyk is take off his helmet a-and he gets this great big smile on his face! He didn't do that this time a-and Hunter loves Kashyyyk! They're still fighting all the time even though the chips are gone; and I'm sick of it! I don't understand what's going on, I thought they'd be better by now and… I-I-I just want my brothers back!!"

WHAM!

"Wr-Wrecker that's a critical panel! Please don't go punching holes in our medbay equipment! What if one of us gets sick?!"

Hunter takes a deep breath, reaching in his pocket for the keycard that would unlock [____]'s front door. "We… also did a lot of apologizing for not being better brothers in the past. For how much we fought. For how much I avoided trying to understand what was happening to my brother because of his inhibitor chip when he needed me… I- uh oh. That's not good." he stops mid-sentence when there's a greatly delayed response from the panel as he uses the keycard.

Her front door opens only part of the way before it gets stuck. Badly. It's open wide enough that Spoon could easily get out when there's no telling where she'll be in the house. Omega would probably have to slip through the gap and see if she can't close it from the inside. Or at least make sure the Tooka kitten doesn't scamper out the door while Hunter calls Tech. 

Omega looks just as panicked as her little brother. "Wh-what do we do, Hunter?"

"See if you can get inside. We should make sure Spoon stays put. I'm going to message Tech." Omega shimmies through the gap quickly, and as he's trying to get Tech on the comms channel, the inner panel is making sounds that suggest the whole thing is royally kriffed. "It won't close!" 

"Don't panic, Omega. Go see if you can't find Spo-"

"Yes, Hunter?" Tech sounds calmer than he was this morning, for now. Less irritable. That's a good sign. "What is it?" 

"Tech, how do you feel about fixing [____]'s front door? This thing won't open or close all the way. Panel won't respond either." Calm is out the door now as Hunter can hear the crack of the mechanism before the door to Wrecker and Tech's room is thrown open once it's been unlocked. The other vode are either laughing as a way to cope with being startled, or Tech truly looks as delighted by the prospect of something to fix as he sounds when he shouts "I will be right there!" before mashing the disconnect.  

"Aww, you're so cute! I found Spoon! She was pacing outside what must be [____]'s room!" Omega calls from inside, giggling. "And [____] put her pictures I drew for her birthday up in her room, too! Just like she said!" Hunter smiled, not surprised that his sister's curiosity had gotten the better of her for a moment and led to the discovery. So much for showing her himself. Oh well. 

"Yeah, she sure did. That was quick, wasn't it? Tech's coming to get the door fixed for [____], so we might be here for a while." Through the gap, he could see Omega with the young female Tooka he'd met the other night carefully cradled in her arms, nodding to express her understanding. "That's okay! But… won't that mean we won't be able to-" Omega paused, glancing around for a time device somewhere in the home, "Are we going to make it to the place we need to get the paint from before it closes if it takes Tech a long time?"

The shop they needed to get the color from in the spaceport ran at odd hours of business. He was certainly excited to get his room dressed up at long last with the recent nudge, but some of his siblings were more outwardly excited than him.

Hunter just smiled reassuringly, watching as Spoon carefully climbs up Omega's shoulder and tries inspecting the girl's blonde hair. "There'll always be tomorrow if this does run long, Omega. [____]'s said the clinic is really busy today, so I'd rather not add one more thing for her to take care of once she's closed."

Omega nods once more to show she understands, slower this time. "Right… Makes sense." 

"Hunter!" Tech was jogging up the street, carrying a case full of tools in the crook of his arm. "I'm here! … Where's Omega?"

"You got here fast," Hunter chuckles, taking the tools to allow Tech to double over and catch his breath, "and Omega's inside to make sure someone's got an eye on our friend's new little Loth-cat. Now, once you've caught your breath, would you like me to help, or just stay out of your way?" He, admittedly, still hasn't gotten to know Tech's tools quite like Echo did once he'd joined their squad, so oftentimes he wasn't sure what his brother meant by codes like "S-17 and a twist", but he was willing to try to assist if Tech would allow. 

Tech only blinked at Hunter with surprise. It'd been a long time since Hunter had offered help after the last time Tech had waved him away. "You want to help me?" He now felt… almost a little guilty for continually waving Hunter off.

"Well, sure…! Only if you're okay with a little verbal hand-holding to make sure I understand what tools you're asking for." Hunter told him with an earnest smile. 

Tech nods slowly, reaching to take the case of tools. "Of course. I'd be… happy to have you help me."

"Hand me the second-smallest spanner, please. There's a blue paint smear on it." 

"Here," Hunter pawns the tool off into the palm of Tech's outstretched hand through the gap in the doorway as they get the inside panel synced up with the outside panel, "trade you for the spanner you don't need." 

"There. Just lay it in the toolbox for now. Might need it again." Tech passes back the other spanner, humming thoughtfully to something Omega says while she plays with the Tooka on the floor. "Hmm… perhaps. Not a bad idea."

Hunter peeks into the house. "What's not a bad idea?" 

"Inviting [____] to dinner at our place." Omega repeats, giggling as Spoon playfully pounced after a toy she'd thrown down the hall. 

"Mm, maybe. She might be pretty tired afterwar-" 

Fwreep! Fwreep-reep-reep!

Speaking of [____]; she's sent Hunter several messages rather suddenly... No, not just Hunter, on second look. It's the wider group of siblings so they all see the same thing. 

IMP AT CLINIC. 

STAY AWAY. 

STAY HOME. 

STAY!! HOME!! DO NOT CONTACT ME!!

The message is chilling. Tech stares at the message, a slight tremor in his voice betraying the calm façade in the rest of his face. "That's not good..." Omega looks over at her brothers after reading the message herself, a panicked whine climbing out of her throat. He tries to ignore the roar of blood in his ears as his heart begins to race. Imperials at her clinic? Oh galaxy and all her stars…

"Let's get this panel set and get home, Tech. Omega, get your shoes on so we're ready to leave as soon as possible." [____] didn't live too far from her clinic, a modest little place not too far from the shipyards of the travel-hub either. Returning home would be the safest option for them. 

Things would definitely have to wait now. 

Omega's voice was choked as she hurriedly stuffed her feet into her footwear and exited the house. The panel was quickly finished before being closed up, set and locked before the three of them took the long way home, jogging up the side streets. "I-Is she… Hunter, do you think [____]'s in trouble?" 

"I don't know, ad'ika. Kriff, I hope not." Hunter scooped Omega off the street so they could move faster, growing more nervous with every stumble his sister makes trying to keep up with the two war veteran brothers that she’s going to trip in her haste. He feels just as panicked as she looks and as Tech sounds while he’s reciting the various modifications he’s made to the Havoc Marauder under his breath. “I’m hoping she’ll find an excuse to send them away too.” he utters, returning the sniffled sentiment as Omega curls against his chest. 

It’s a nice day outside, but each and every last window is shut and shuttered once the three of them make it inside.

And all goes quiet for an hour.

Hunter remade his bed with the threadbare sheets for the time being, trying not to step into an anxiety spiral by keeping his hands busy along with his mind. The holofilm had been a nice distraction and killed a few hours of time as each member of Clone Force 99 waited out the clock.

I may need to come by and see everyone when I’m done. I can't promise I will. Please don't reply or drop by my clinic once I close. I don't know if this person with the Empire will insist on walking me home since I was given a lot of trouble. I'm closing early.

The vode found excuses to give themselves little opportunity for festering with worry. Ideas for some new, sturdy furniture that would fit in his room. There was some artwork that Tech had in mind. Crosshair called dibs on the old top sheet to use as new weapons cleaning rags. Wrecker was thinking about trying to replicate something from Kamino for dinner tonight. What Echo really wanted to do was go find out what ship that Imperial flew in on and kark up their controls; instead he's scouring the Holonet either for local news, or a decent strategy game. Omega really, really wants to message the medic with all the nervous questions she's teeming with, but they haven't been given an all-clear. 

She's too antsy to touch any of the art supplies the brothers have scrounged up for her over the months, instead, she's using her nervous energy to quiz Tech for facts about the holofilm. From his room Hunter can hear something about the main lead having starred in five other films within the franchise and guest-starred in the pilot episode of the spin-off show.  

And he just wants to make sure this Imperial personnel is not giving her trouble like the old pirates had been. He wants to make sure [____] feels okay and safe, but Hunter understands she's trying to keep him, them, safe by telling the vode they needed to stay away. She has a duty to the shattered cross to provide care to anyone seeking out the symbol of healers and healthcare. 

Even those she disagreed with, hated even, when she did not wear the symbol. 

"Where are you going Hunter?"

The bed's fixed back up. He doesn't have much more to do right now. "Just going to stretch my legs outside." He wants to wait outside for her. He knows that Echo knows that. There's no sense pretending the tracker means anything different.

"Don't… get your hopes up." Echo carefully suggests, his expression suggesting he's trying to do the same. They're all worried about their favorite medic, pretending otherwise is foolish. "I don't want you to be disappointed in case she's not coming by, brother."

"... I know." 

The door shuts behind Hunter as he steps out, finding a comfortable step to sit on and kill some more time with his datapad in hand while keeping an eye out for the medic. As dusk envelopes the street, more pinpricks of light begin blinking in one by one in the darkening sky above as the sun begins to drop below the horizon. 

He spends five minutes watching more and more stars "filling in" the sky above him as it darkens in half-interest before he hears the hydraulics signal that someone's coming out to join him. Faint notes of thin oil and sun-warmed cotton. It's not the smell of joint lubricant or machine oil, so it's not Echo or Tech, but the process of elimination temporarily makes him wonder if the ARC's kit of prosthetic care is sufficiently stocked. "Yeah, Cross?" 

Right to it. No want for excuses. "Really going to sit out here for half an hour at the most waiting for [____]?" 

At a leisurely pace, without the shortcut Wrecker made the day Hunter had been gravely injured by the bomb, it could take someone fifteen minutes to walk from their house to the medic's. "Want some company?"

"Not this time, vod. Thank you, though." 

"... Hunter." 

There was more the sharp-sighted brothers hadn't had the chance to discuss before Echo had made lunch for everyone. Shredded nerf steak meat between slices of bread toasted on one side using one of the hot plates. Echo did not cook as much due to the nature of his prosthetic appendage adding some challenges to meal prep, so the rare occasion he was set on the idea of cooking, the brothers knew it was going to be good. 

As much as Hunter wanted to continue the conversation from this morning, much like Crosshair, there wasn't enough time. "Really," he insists, twisting sideways on the step to better look at his brother, "I don't plan on waiting out here much longer… I do appreciate your offer, but, sitting with me for the five more minutes would be-"

"Over before it started." 

"Mhm."

Cross just nods, the action nearly lost when his head snaps in the same direction as Hunter's when notices the sound of [____]'s shoes coming up the street just before his brother turns back inside. "She got here quickly... I'll go inside so you two can kiss in private, lover boy. She'll be eager to see you." His brother's tone is teasing, but there's something… off, that prevents Hunter from joking back. 

The air smells heavy and sour already, even so far away. But it's not just the nearly overbearing odor of the disinfectant or the trace of rubber gloves…

His heart jumps into his throat in a moment of panic. There's a heavy tang that follows her up the street. Blood. He stammers as he calls out her name, mind racing with a thousand different possibilities why her sleeves are stained in shades of red as he throws himself off that stoop. "A-are you hurt?!"

"N-no I'm… I’m not hurt." the medic murmurs, her voice impossibly soft. 

It doesn't convince him. “You look hurt, [____], the blood-”

“None of it’s mine.” she insists as Hunter looks her over, his dark eyes searching every inch intently for signs of harm or injury to her person, “Someone was stupid and they antagonized an Imperial official in front of witnesses. It got nasty. Those who didn’t need critical care got sent to me. S-so that included the Imperial who was involved in the… fight.”

That final word and the tone of her voice sits like ice in his chest. “It wasn’t a fight, was it?” There's a chilling implication he's afraid of. Is it fear for himself, his brothers and sister? Is it fear for her?

She doesn’t want to answer that. “C-can I just come inside? I don’t want to go home right now.” [____] doesn't meet his eyes. She's hugging herself so tightly across the chest her knuckles are pale. The rustle of her coat sounds… slick and heavier, almost. Outside the halo of light from the front porch, he can't see just how extensive the stains must be.

“You can do more than that…” Hunter offers, ushering her inside by putting an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. “Wrecker hasn’t started on making dinner just yet, so let’s get you cleaned up.”

The mood shifts from being happy to see her to total worry and concern when the rest of the brothers see the dried blood on the sleeves of her coat, heaviest and densest at the wrist. Echo and Crosshair are trying to ask [____] questions, inadvertently talking over one another.

“Kid, are you okay?”

“Doc, what happened to you?”

Wrecker’s expressive, unmatching eyes just stay fixed on [____]’s coat sleeves even after Hunter helps her carefully take it off and check the rest of her clothing for stains. “That damn Imperial didn’t hurt you, did they?” He’s angry enough to knock the Imp’s head clean off. But he’s not going to do anything or make any effort (if any) to come up with a plan to deal with the filth responsible without hearing what his friend has to say. “No… just had a real mess to clean up.”

“Tha’s all that matters, then.” Wrecker says decidedly. If she wasn't hurt, she wouldn't want him stewing in that anger, so he shakes himself free of it as quickly as it had come. “I’ll, uh, find a clean towel you can borrow so you can use the ‘fresher to clean off…” he gestured simply to the sleeves of her med coat hung over Hunter's forearm. The less said about it right now the better. She looked like a gossamer thread away from simply falling apart in front of all of them; it had been a long time since the last Imperial that's shown up to her clinic like this… before she'd started… dating his brother. 

Oh no wonder she was so much more scared than the last time. The last time she'd had one-of-them at the clinic she'd sent a much calmer warning message. It'd been humorous even. 

"No one's allowed to break any bones to find an excuse to come see me until this Imperial leaves my clinic, okay? Stay home, friends."

It breaks his heart when the intonation of her voice remains the same. "Thanks, Wreck…" [____] murmurs. There's no smile. There's no frown. There's no light in those eyes. Wrecker recognizes that expression. He's seen it in too many battle-beaten brothers. He's seen it in the mirror since the end of the war when Clone Force 99 actually started losing missions. 

Wrecker remembers the times Hunter has kept the ash-gray bell of his helmet on longer than necessary while sitting in the shadowy corners of the cargo hold of the Marauder. He knew what he'd see under his brother's helmet even when the face was obscured, and the tremble of his shoulders was almost entirely suppressed. The one and only time he had not been so careful to turn off the mic of his helmet, and had not shown as much restraint, had been three days after leaving Kashyyyk… when the marksman's furious, feverish whispering started. The first symptom of the parasite. 

Sadly Wrecker knows that same haunted, hollow expression that becomes a stubborn mask to take off. No smiles. No frowns. But the heavy, choking silence. The building threat of trickling tears that patiently bide their time. He hopes that's not in store for [____]. (But if she really couldn't help it, he hopes she understands that they won't judge her.)

"We'll find some clothes you can change into after. Something that won't smell like antibac or cleaner. I'll show you how to get the water started." Hunter promises her, taking [____] by the elbow and following her to the 'fresher.

[____] lays quietly with Hunter in his room, curled up on her side on his bed in a pair of borrowed clothes found in the back of someone's closet that hadn't fit him quite right in some way. The two of them can hear Wrecker humming aimlessly through the kitchen while making a "better version" of cafeteria food Clone Force 99 had eaten probably hundreds of times while living and training on Kamino. 

Omega has wandered in and out of Hunter's room since the medic had gotten dressed and laid her head on his thigh, working as Wrecker's little assistant to get the opinions of the other brothers to nail down the seasoning used in soup. 

Hunter, seated at the foot of his bed with his back propped up by the wall, takes a sip from the third sample-cup Omega's carefully carried in from the kitchen. "Hmm that's… close! What'd Wrecker add besides more Kaminoan sea salt?" 

Omega shrugs softly, glancing at [____]. "I think he called it catabar. Crosshair thinks it needs more pepper." 

"Mm, maybe only a little more." Hunter agrees with a second testing. He offers the last of it to [____] to see if she's curious and willing to give it a try, but she doesn't indicate any interest, instead staring ahead at the wall as she continues to utilize a calming breathing exercise. "Are we going with the version of the recipe the four of us are more used to, tonight? Didn't Echo say the version that he's used to apparently has a lot more pepper?" 

"Yeah, I remember when the recipe changed!" Omega giggles brightly before dropping her voice into a whisper, leaning in towards Hunter dramatically. "Wrecker's making a little batch of soup the way Echo liked it, but it's supposed to be a secret!" 

Hunter chuckles, playfully tousling his sister's hair with his free hand. "Ohhh, is he now?" 

"That's nice of Wrecker…" [____] mutters, almost absently. The first thing she's said beyond no or not really when Hunter asked if she wanted him to grab some clothing from home for her or if she wanted anything she left behind in her hurry to get away from her health clinic, away from the watchful eyes of an individual on the Empire's payroll. A fistful of the bedding rumples in her hand as she pushes herself off the mattress to sit up, sighing sharply as she draws her knees up under her chin. "... can always count on him tryna cheer people up." 

Brother and sister share a silent exchange of expressions before Hunter tentatively lays an arm around the medic's upper back, prepared for [____] to shrug him off. But as Omega hoped, she takes the comfort her brother offers her, curling into Hunter's chest instead of turning him away. "Wrecker's made it a little, uh, habit since the war ended to try to make at least one person laugh every day… O-or smile." Omega says while allowing Hunter try to comfort their friend, balling her own fists in the material of Hunter's bedding. She's trying to find some excuse to keep her talking, or to just keep talking to the medic so it keeps her mind off of what's making her so solemn. 

"Wrecker's good at that, yeah…" [____] sniffled softly.

Think, think, think! "Uh… oh, I played with Spoon when we went to check on her! She's so cute!"

"Was she doing okay? How was Spoon?"

Omega nods, glancing at Hunter with an urging look to say something. "She was fine, mesh'la. Omega was a big help and kept an eye on her while Tech and I got your front door fixed. It wasn't opening all the way when I used the card you gave me. Hopefully, it shouldn't give you any more trouble. You've had enough of that for one day; dare I say the rest of the week." It was Hunter's turn to shake his head in a silent signal to Omega. They were not going to bring up that they weren't home when they got the warning. "Think you could be convinced to avoid your clinic tomorrow? Take the day off… not worry about anything. When was the last time you took a day off from your clinic?" he asks softly. 

"Uhm, not that long ago… My birthday, remember?" she reminds him, strangely timid to the realization that was only… wow, three days ago. (Just three?) Hunter scoffs softly, deliberately keeping his smile gentle as Omega scampers from the room, realizing she was keeping Wrecker waiting. "Well… I would argue that you could really use it after today." he says honestly, thinking back to something he and Crosshair discussed. 

"You may not need to twist my arm that hard…" [____] hums in the warm cradle of his arms and broad chest. 

"Don't know if I should call it funny or fitting that my brother with a sacrificial streak ended up falling for a woman who's much the same way."

"A wha-"

"A sacrificial nature. C'mon: the bedsheets, Hunter. They're the thinnest in the house. That's only the tip of the wing." 

"...oh?"

"Even when you were karking pissed with me, you weren't giving me less than my fair share of rations; you gave me extra.You took the smallest room in the house. Omega wanted to continue doing art after enjoying it so much at [____]'s clinic the time she watched Omega for us, you put off replacing things like your sheets and used the leftover credits we got from that job to get her basic art supplies instead… You've been going without since the end of the war and no one's been sure what to say to you about it. We just- Why have you been…?"

"I'm not always the best at it, I know, but… I'm only trying to look out for everyone, keep everyone safe. Happy."

"...That includes you too from now on, Hunter."  

"...Can I hold you to that?" 

"I'll twist your damn arm if I have to."

"That's the brother I know."

Something drops in the kitchen with a great clatter, something ceramic sounds involved. Omega's sharp, reflexive gasp has the medic on the offense in an instant, heart hammering against her chest. "Oh Maker-!" A mere heartbeat later, Wrecker disarms everyone's worry, laughing bashfully. "It's okay!! Just dropped the ladle in the sink; nothing's broke, no one's hurt! Just got excited issall…" 

[____] yelps softly with surprise when without so much as a word of warning or a deep breath to brace himself, Hunter has her pulled into his lap. "Hear that?" Each of his arms are now circled around her, tucking her comfortably and perfectly against his chest where she can feel the steady waves of reverberations as he speaks. "They're fine. No one's hurt, and everyone's still safe; you were very kind to warn us. You did your job trying to take care of the people you care about, ad'ika. Now it's our turn."   

"Uh… why are there two soup pots?" Echo mumbles to himself as he finds a seat at the table. "Well, guess it's not that weird, actually. Kid hasn't grown up on Kamino like the rest'a us." he reasons after some additional thought, nodding towards the medic seated across the table from him, next to Hunter who sat in the middle with Omega at his other side. She regards the second pot with a second look, this time with the same degree of confusion as the ARC trooper. 

"I don't believe this one's for [____]." Tech muses as he inspects the contents of the ladle. "This one has more- ah!" He's figured it out by visual inspection alone. Of course now that he's figured it out and gone quiet, it'll probably drive Echo crazy that for once his younger brother won't elaborate on his conclusions.

"What? What is it?" Echo urges him.

Omega glances over at Wrecker, both stifling laughter long enough for Wrecker to say "It's for you, Echo!" with a splitting grin. 

"You… you made some for me the way I like?"

Wrecker confirms the question with another bright smile. "Yeah; the original recipe before it was changed!" Crosshair snickered softly from across the table when Echo's jaw went entirely slack, feeling bold and daring enough to try teasing him while Wrecker portions out soup to everyone. "Manners, Echo. What do you say?"

"Th-thank you, Wrecker…" he stammers, collecting one of the spoons being passed around. "...I hope it wasn't too much extra effort." 

"Nawh! Don't worry 'bout it, wasn't any trouble at all! Ended up making too much stock for just one pot before I added the meat and vegetables and didn't want to put it to waste. Whaddya think of it, [____]?" To Wrecker's memory, it was probably her first taste of what had been served to the Clones growing up. 

Swallowing slowly with the weight of everyone's eyes on her, [____]'s shoulders steadily crept higher. "It's, uh…" the medic hesitates to say more, swirling the spoon absently through the broth and chunked meats and veggies. 

"It's okay if you don't like it." Wrecker promises, giving her a grin and nod. Clone-food wasn't to everyone's tastes; it's why they avoided pulling any inspiration from the cafeteria rota often when they had her over for dinner. "We had some real tasty sandwiches that Echo made for lunch if you want somethin' else." 

"Oh no-no-no, it's fine!" [____] blurts out, pulling her shoulders back. "It's really good soup, Wrecker, I promise. I just uh, d-didn't really get a chance to eat anything beyond a few sips of a nutri-shake at lunch before… y'know."

"Kriff hit the fan." Crosshair finished matter-of-factly, fishing up the largest chunk of meat in his bowl of soup. "Pity you didn't get a chance to eat, doc." he added, voice softer this time with sympathy. 

[____] shrugged, leaning into Hunter's side after he slung an arm around her shoulders to offer her a side-hug to snuggle into. "Yeah..." she hums quietly, stirring up another suitable spoonful of soup with a frown, "pity's a word for it." Before lifting the next spoonful, she pauses, feeling the comforting gesture of Hunter's thumb making little circles in the borrowed clothing. While the five brothers hadn't said who'd dug out what from his wardrobe for her to find something that would fit her for the time being as her blood stained coat (and the rest of her clothing for good measure) soaked in their laundry machines, there was something about the top that seemed a little like Crosshair's style. 

Hmm.

Hunter notices the pause and leans in close to her, "Everything okay?" he asks in a low and honeyed hum before his lips graze the soft plane of her cheek. He wouldn't care too much if his vode were watching him be affectionate with her out in common spaces like this, but being considerate of [____]'s feelings after the day she ended up having, he was mindful of how far he took things. "What's on your mind, cyar'ika?"

She smiles softly, and he's not initially certain whether that's in response to the mispronounced Mando'an pet name, or the increasing tickle of the several day's worth of stubble he has yet to shave, but the small gesture is a step in the right direction. 

"I'll tell you after dinner." [____] promises him gently. She had a few ideas to think over first. At least one thing was decided for certain; she was not going to her clinic tomorrow.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @ladytano420​ @the-hexfiles @ilovethosebrowneyes9904​

Note from Frost: If it was noticed, I know in one section it reads that Medic!Reader says it was sweet of Wrecker to make soup just for Echo and then another she’s just as confused as Echo. Pretend that it’s up to your interpretation that the confusion was either an act or genuine because Medic!Reader makes the comment while still mostly disassociating so I don’t have to edit it for the 8th time.... This chapter gave me the big feels.

If you would like to be added to the taglist that is currently just specific for Sorry, Wrong Comms!, (I may start a taglist for all Star Wars related fanfiction projects that will be marked accordingly with #frostfics in the near future if there is interest) don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or a comment loves. 🩷

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Second Chance: In My Head...

Ricky Bowen x OC

This is episode three of my series Second Chance.

Summary: Unexpected tension leaves both Blake and Ricky confused. Ricky leaves Nini a voicemail and ends up hurt. Trouble in paradise for Nini and EJ.

Trigger Warnings: Talks of (Blake's) BPD and therapy (like healthy coping skills), mentions of not having food at home, pills/addiction

"Five, six, seven, eight!"

The words echoed through the black box. Carlos pressed the play button on the music, starting 'Get'cha Head in the Game' from the original High School Musical soundtrack.

A group of background characters in the play, Blake included, started to bounce basketballs, attempting to bounce in sync with the music despite the blindfolds that covered their faces.

She lifted her leg up, bouncing the basketball to the other side and trying to catch it with her other hand. She was supposed to do a twirl next, but the ball bounced away from her before she could try.

Judging by the sound of other basketballs bouncing away and the squeaking rubber shoes against the floor, nobody else had much luck with the moves either.

"Alright guys, come on, get 'cha head in the game," Carlos joked as everybody lifted their blindfolds and chased after their own basketballs.

"Carlos, when can we take these blindfolds off?" A boy with white hair chuckled, basketball in hand.

"When you're able to dribble and pirouette at the same time," Carlos smiled, stating his response as if it was obvious. Blake took a second to breathe after picking up her basketball, giggling softly at his answer.

"Alright," Carlos clapped his hands together, "good reheasal today, everybody! I'll see you all tomorrow, and don't forget to read over your scripts!"

She put her basketball down in the designated bin, grabbing her backpack and waving goodbye to Carlos. She was met with Ricky outside the door of the black box waiting for her.

"Hey, how was practice?" He nodded towards her with a smile as the two of them began walking through the halls.

"Rehearsals," she corrected him with a smirk.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Okay, how was rehearsals, smartass?"

She let out a quiet laugh, "it was fun. We learned to bounce a basketball blindfolded."

"I don't even want to ask."

She shook her head, "I don't know why he's trying to get us to learn the dance blindfolded, I think it's something about making it impossible to learn at first? I don't know," she giggled.

"Hey, okay, so... do you remember how I told you I think Nini and I had a moment earlier?" Ricky quickly changed the subject as the two of them started walking down the stairs.

She hesitantly nodded, "yes...?"

"Well... I think I'm going to call her real quick," he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, stopping on the stairwell.

Blake sighed, "I don't know if that's a good idea, Ricky..." She sat on the end of the stairs and watched.

He shrugged, "what do I have to lose?" He started dialing the number in his phone.

She groaned quietly, putting her face in her hands as she listened to the little beeps of the numbers being entered.

She heard the faint sound of Nini's voicemail through his phone, "this is Nini, talk to me, me!"

"Hey, it's me. Your... buddy, Ricky. Sorry to bother you, I know we don't really do voice convos," he used his free hand to animate his words as he spoke them, "but I saw you singing that song with Ashlyn today and I felt like we kind of shared, like, a moment... or a thing? I don't know, maybe a moment is kind of a thing?"

Blake scrunched her nose, an automatic reaction to the words that poured from his mouth. It was clear he didn't think this through.

"Why am I still talking?" He asked himself, whispering underneath his breath, "Anyway, whatever. if this voicemail is too much, or too soon, or you're just not into it... we can just ignore this whole thing and pretend like nothing ever happened, okay? Poof. Gone. Okay... bye."

Blake looked at him, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in as he pressed the button to end the call.

He clicked his tongue, finally moving his gaze from his phone and over to Blake, "Nailed it."

She stood up, the two of them finishing down the stairs and finally leaving the school as he continued to hype himself up, "Crushed it."

She shook her head with a laugh, but denied saying anything when he asked what it was she was laughing at as they skated home.

Instrumentals to the song 'Stick to the Status Quo' from the original High School Musical soundtrack played over the speakers as Blake and the the other extras practiced through a dance number around a cafeteria table that Gina danced on, their moves simply accenting Gina's routine that she was showing off.

Thankfully, Blake was no stranger to dancing. She had a history of ballet when she was younger, thanks to her mom, but as she grew older, she decided that dancing was more her style. Blake went to dance classes four times a week starting when she was eight years old. Just like many other things in her life, the dance classes stopped when her mom passed away. Still, it felt good to get back to her old hobby, if only for a second.

Gina finished out the last bit of the number in a pirouette with a smile as everyone quickly dispersed for a water break. Blake made her way over to Big Red, sitting next to him while he read through a script.

She took a big swig of her water, ignoring EJ sitting next to her and staring. Thankfully, his attention was pulled away from her as Nini walked through the door. Ms. Jenn quickly moved to meet her in the middle of the room.

"Nini! Where were you? We've been here for an hour."

"I'm so sorry," she stumbled, spilling out her explanation, "I lost my phone and basically spent last night living as a hunter-gatherer which, by the way, did you know that there are things that are only on TV at a certain time?"

Ms. Jenn looked at her with wide eyes as she rambled.

"Anyway, I finally picked it up at the lost-and-found and... wait, did you say an hour?" Nini's face fell.

"Gina sent you and me a text asking if we could come in early so she could talk through a new idea," Ms. Jenn explained gently, "you didn't get it?"

"No because my phone was missing..."

"Well, honey," Ms. Jenn began, "you've gotta keep better track of your stuff."

Blake noticed the way EJ's lips turned into a frown, the way he swallowed, looking down at his lap.

Before she could think about it, her attention was soon averted, her gaze now following Ricky. He walked across the room and over to Nini, who finally finished her conversation with Ms. Jenn.

"Hey, Nini, how was your night?" He asked her with a smile.

"Um," Nini pulled her jacket off, "not so hot, actually. Excuse me," she sat her jacket down and pushed past him without a second look.

Blake walked to Ricky's side, "Oh, okay," he cleared his throat as he watched her walk away.

He turned to Blake, whispering "'Not so hot'? Was that about my voicemail?" He raised his eyebrow, a sad chuckle escaping him, "I mean, is that her answer...?"

She shook her head, her mouth opened slightly. She was going to say something, she really was, but he moved on too quickly before she could respond.

"Yeah, that was her answer..." He frowned and walked away, leaving Blake standing there.

"Yo, earth to Blake!"

She had zoned out, but was quickly pulled back to reality when a small foam ball softly bounced off of her face.

"Huh?" she looked to the culprit with slight annoyance. Ricky.

"Are you even listening?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

She sighed. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, Ricky."

"Dude, what's up with you? Where'd you just go?" Big Red's voice caught her attention.

"Was thinking about the homework I have to catch up on," She lied. She honestly just didn't want to hear any more about Nini.

She took a second, trying to think up a way to change the subject, distract them, find any thing to get them off the topic. So she looked at Ricky, figuring why not throw the ball back at him? He threw it at her first, after all.

"...What?" He asked hesitantly as he noticed the mischievous grin on her face.

She raised up her arm and threw the little foam ball as hard as she could at him. He flinched, "Hey!" It bounced off of his chest and onto the floor.

"Payback," she smiled innocently.

The three of them giggled together for a moment before Ricky started up a game of 'catch' — which was just the three of them tossing the little ball to each other in a circle from each side of Big Red's basement that they sat in.

"Okay but seriously, did you hear any of that?" Ricky asked Blake with an eyebrow raised and a smile.

"Yes, don't worry," she lied again, catching the ball from Big Red and quickly tossing it to Ricky again.

"So... what do i do?" Ricky asked both Blake and Big Red.

"Dude, just be yourself," Red looked at Ricky, "be the bigger man."

Ricky caught the ball from Blake, "Okay...." he tossed the ball up in the air and caught it, "pick one?"

Red looked at him, slightly dumbfounded, and sighed, falling backwards onto his bed.

Blake snickered at Ricky's reply, "At least you're self aware," she was only half-joking, "throw the ball!"

Ricky shook his head at her with a smile on his face, proud that he had made her laugh. He sighed and threw the ball to Big Red, "So, you think maybe it's time to move on...?"

Big Red caught the ball, "I mean, I wouldn't. But you also have that other thing..." he threw the ball to Blake, "pride."

She caught the ball and shook her head. While the conversation was undoubtedly silly and made her giggle, she couldn't deny that she was annoyed, too.

"No. Nini clearly isn't into you anymore, Ricky. She deserves to have her boundaries respected. You're just gonna push her away more," Blake sighed, tossing the ball to Ricky before standing up.

She looked away from the two boys, walking to her skateboard, backpack, and helmet.

"Where are you going?" Red sat up, the boys looked at her curiously.

"I'm outta here. Got homework," she shrugged.

"I - Wait..." Ricky tried to stop her, but she was already halfway up the stairs.

It didn't take but a moment before she had swiftly waved goodbye to Red's parents and headed out the front door. Her skateboard hit the ground.

Before she could get her helmet on, Ricky's hand was on her shoulder, "Blake..."

She sighed in frustration, but turned to face him with a smile on her face nonetheless. "What's up, Bowen?"

"What happened?" He genuinely seemed to be concerned, but she shook it off.

"Nothing, it's just late," she assured him.

She could tell he wasn't buying it, but he slowly released his hand from her shoulder and nodded. "Uh, let me go grab my stuff and I'll go with you?"

She shook her head, "don't worry about it."

"Come on, you know I hate it when you skate alone at this time of night."

Blake sighed, "fine."

He smiled at her and ran back inside to grab his things. He usually skateboarded along with her when they left Red's place, he says he hated for her to be alone in the dark. 'It's not like I have to go out of my way for it', he always argued when she'd try to protest.

When the two of them finally arrived to their houses, she kicked up her skateboard, catching it and grabbing her keys from her pocket. "Bye," she tried to be as quick as possible.

"Your dad still isn't home?"

She sighed. "Guess I'm on my own for dinner tonight again," she shrugged, the joke a little more sinister than she meant for it to be. As if she somehow wouldn't be on her own for dinner, even if her father was home.

She was about to turn away, walk inside, do her homework, shower, and sleep. She didn't have time to care about any of this. But Ricky stopped her... again.

"Come over tonight. You know Dad wont mind."

She puffed out a short, sarcastic laugh and looked to the ground beneath her feet. "Yeah, I think I'm good, Ricky. I'm not really hungry anyways," she shook her head.

His worried expression on his face evident, he spoke up, "Look, I don't..." he looked at his house and then back at her, lowering his voice a little bit, "I don't want to be alone tonight, anyways. It just feels so... empty in that house. Like something's missing."

He wasn't lying. But he also wasn't telling the full truth. He was worried about her, he was worried she was starting to isolate again. He knows her history with BPD, and he feared for her. So he told her the half-truth. He knew it'd persuade her to stay, so he said it.

Besides, something was missing. His mom. Hiding away in some other state, neglecting to be there for her son who very clearly needed her. Blake knew how much the past few weeks of this mess had been bothering him. So she sighed, she hesitated but her eyes met his again and she caved.

"Fine."

Ricky unlocked his door, letting her step inside first before following and closing the door behind them. His dad, Mike was asleep on the couch, the tv running Breaking Bad and a box of takeout noodles sat on the coffee table in front of him.

Ricky sighed at the sight of him. "C'mon," he lead her to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, opening up his fridge and pulling out frozen chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.

Blake giggled, "The dino nuggies!" she cooed, a smile on her face. She was reminded of back when they were kids. Her mom would make dino chicken nuggets for the two of them after school every day and bring it out to them in the treehouse. Blake hasn't had any since she was little.

Ricky smiled at her, "you remember the dino nuggies? Your mom used to make them for us all the time..." he began, and Blake finished his sentence along with him.

"...and we would make them fight before we ate them," they said in unison before laughing with each other. He picked up one of the dinos and looked at her expectantly.

She chuckled at his antics but didn't hesitate to join in, picking up a dino and play-fighting with Ricky's. It was silly, but it had the two of them laughing together as they both relived those memories.

"Okay, I think it's time to cook them," she finally stopped, trying hard to contain her laughter in hopes that it wouldn't wake Mike.

Ricky nodded and put them in the microwave, he leaned back against the counter after pressing start on the six minutes. Blake moved over, pushing herself up to sit on the counter next to him, her legs swinging back and fourth softly.

The quiet between them almost became awkward, but Ricky's sleepy father interrupted it when he walked in groggily. "Hey, Ricky," he nodded towards his son, "hey, Blake, you spending the night?"

As if she hadn't agreed to it already, she looked to Ricky for clarification. He looked at her expectantly, hoping she hadn't changed her mind.

Her lips curled up in a small smile before she looked back to Mike and nodded, "Yeah."

Mike only gave a thumbs up in response, yawning as he walked out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

Blake and Ricky laughed at the awkward encounter right as the microwave went off. When their laughs settled, he turned to the microwave and pulled out the hot dino nuggets, separating them onto two plates.

He went to the fridge and grabbed the ketchup, turning back to the plates and squirting some onto each plate.

"How'd you know I wanted ketchup? What if I wanted mustard?" Blake teased him with a grin, her legs swinging back and forth.

He gave her a knowing look. "I've known you since we were babies. We grew up on dino nuggies. Why wouldn't I know if you wanted ketchup or mustard?"

She jumped off of the counter, grabbing her plate of nuggets as he poured two glasses of lemonade. He grabbed his and they moved to the table.

The two of them sat in mostly silence as they ate, the nuggets being one of the only meals Blake has had the past few days. She hadn't had the time to sneak a few bucks from her dad and buy some groceries recently.

After they both finished their food, they cleaned up and put their dishes in the sink to be washed tomorrow.

Ricky looked at Blake with a smile, "I got you something."

She tilted her head in question, smiling back. "What?"

"Follow me," he said as he led her out of the house and to the backyard, into the tree house.

The two of them climbed up the ladder, only to be met with a box.

"What's this?" She asked him curiously.

"Well I figured since we finally got the tree house cleaned up, but none of the lights worked anymore... maybe I could get some new lights? I got the LED kind, too." He began unpacking the box, grabbing the little remote that came with the new lights, showing it to her. "You can even change the colors," he told her excitedly.

She giggled, taking the remote from him and looking at the colorful buttons on it. "Ricky, this is so fun," she smiled.

He started to unpack the lights, unraveling them and not hesitating to get to work, putting them up on the walls.

She moved quickly to help him and when the two of them finally finished setting the lights up, they plugged them in and used the remote to turn them on. Blake switched through all the colors they could be set to.

"We are actually children," she laughed as they both reacted a bit too excitedly at the different colors. He laughed too, grabbing the remote from her and finally setting the color to a nice blue.

She sighed, "I think it's time for me to take a shower. Mind if I use yours?" she asked him, knowing he wouldn't want her to go home right now anyway.

He nodded, "always."

She smiled at him as he turned the lights off, both of them climbing down the ladder of the tree house and heading inside.

She grabbed some of her clothes from the pile in Ricky's closet that she left for nights like these, and stepped into the shower.

Ricky fell back onto his bed, letting out a small groan of frustration. He tried to focus on the noise of the running water from the shower, or the sight of the ceiling fan whirring above him. Anything to distract him from his mind.

He thought about the other day, when Blake held his hand as she wrapped it up, taking care of his bruised and swollen knuckles. When his stomach turned as he watched her. The way she smiled, or her feather-light touch as she focused on him. He was captivated by the way she made him feel. Safe, loved, cared for. Captivated by how much he wanted to kiss her right then and there. To hold her in his arms with his lips pressed to hers, giving in to his impulsivity.

He could have sworn it was just the moment, just the overwhelming thoughts and feelings from a rough day. He could have sworn it didn't mean anything. So why couldn't he shake the thoughts?

Blake ran her fingers through her hair, washing out the conditioner she just scrubbed into it. The refreshing feeling of the water running down her back made her sigh in relief. Something to focus on that wasn't Ricky.

Ricky.

He didn't make this easy for her. The way he protected her from EJ, albeit in an incredibly stupid way, or the little things he did, like buying new lights for their tree house. The way he noticed that she was sad, insisting she didn't skate home alone. He made her feel safe. He made her feel loved. He made her feel cared for.

It was the safety that scared her. She hadn't been safe since the day her dad decided to take pills, opioids, after her mom died, washing it down with a bottle of vodka. Not that he'd ever hurt her, but the neglectful nature that followed his addictions had clouded any sense of safety she could ever find within him again.

Ricky being the only person left that she felt safe with after she lost both her parents was terrifying, to say the least... because what if she lost him, too?

She finished washing the soap off of her body, turning off the water and grabbing the towel she picked up on her way in. After drying off, she brushed her teeth and got dressed in fresh clothes, discarding her dirty clothes in Ricky's clothes hamper. He'd just add it to the pile again, anyway.

Turning the knob, she opened the bathroom door, the steam flowing out and no longer suffocating in the bathroom. She saw Ricky, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"You okay?" She asked him gently, running a hand through her wet hair as she started to braid it.

He sat up, slightly alarmed at her voice, as if he hadn't noticed that she had already left the bathroom. He nodded, "I'm fine. How was your shower?"

The exchange was confusingly awkward as she answered quietly, "refreshing," she shrugged, sitting on the edge of his bed and continuing her braiding.

Ricky moved, sitting next to her as he watched her fingers move swiftly through her hair, perfectly lacing her locks in a delicate pattern.

"What is it?" She asked him softly, and he didn't even realize he was staring until she spoke.

He opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, but nothing came out. Not a few seconds later, his phone chimed. 'Saved by the bell', he thought.

He didn't hesitate to grab it, reading the text he had just received.

"It's Nini," he informed Blake, the confusing tension that once filled the air was gone in an instant.

"Oh," she breathed out as she finished braiding her hair, wrapping a hair tie around the end to hold it together.

"She said 'hey'... What does 'hey' mean?"

She shrugged, "Not sure. I wouldn't think too much on it, though," she advised him.

For a moment, she almost thought that he'd taken her advice, but she was quickly proven wrong when he began typing, then promptly deleting his own message. He tried again, but his message was gone once more. She watched his thumbs slide across the screen of his phone as he had written out multiple different messages, every single one of them seemingly not up to Ricky's standards.

She sighed, "I'm going to sleep, Ricky. You should, too."

He didn't look from his phone, standing up and saying, "alright, goodnight," before walking over to the futon in his room.

He kicked his shoes off, haphazardly taking off his shirt and discarding it somewhere on the ground, lying down and throwing a blanket over himself.

Blake had to remind herself to breathe, the sight of her best friend shirtless in front of her was nothing new, but it still gave her butterflies all the same. That, paired with the frustration of him actually responding to Nini, however... Well, it was a confusing mixture of emotions, to say the least.

So she crawled into the bed and turned off the lamp on Ricky's bedside table. She bundled up underneath the covers and slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Can you believe she actually told EJ about the voicemail I left her?"

Ricky paced the halls as he let out his anger while Blake leaned up against a wall and listened.

"That's really fucking disrespectful," she replied, matching his frustration.

"Right? You know what? I'm gonna go tell her that right now," He almost yelled.

It was evident that his anger was building more and more, and she knew that the best thing to do to help him was to help calm him.

Ricky didn't realize it, but she knew exactly what to do when he's upset. It's been the same routine since the two of them were young. It wasn't exactly difficult for her to figure out, considering she was the same way.

There were step-by-step rules to it:

1. Match his energy; get angry with him (while staying calm).

2. Validation; remind him that he's allowed to be upset.

3. Breathe; remind him to take a breath, to not let his thoughts consume him (which really isn't easy).

She pushed herself away from the wall, walking towards him. "Okay, Ricky, hey," she stood in front of him, stopping his pacing. Her hands went to his shoulders, "breathe."

His eyes met hers as he complied. He sucked in a deep breath, slowly releasing it.

"Good," she nodded. "I know it's infuriating that she betrayed your trust like that," she spoke calmly, sympathizing with him, "and you are one-hundred percent allowed to be angry. I'd be angry, too. Hell, I am angry. What she did wasn't at all fair to you. But you have to remember to breathe. Exploding is only going to make you feel worse. Don't let this consume you."

Blake and Ricky were similar in that aspect. Easy to let thoughts and emotions take over every inch of their minds.

He nodded at her words, his breathing had calmed down at the sound of her voice. Her sympathizing had worked in making him feel less alone.

"Now that you're calm, if you still want to go and talk to Nini, you should. State your boundaries, tell her that what she did wasn't cool, and then walk away. Alright?"

He agreed, flashing a small smile at her as a silent 'thank you'. She followed him through the halls as the two of them set off to find Nini. They watched as she exited through the front doors of the school, and Ricky dashed to catch up to her.

He pushed through the doors with Blake following closely behind, "Hey! Nini!" He called out to her, "I have to say something to you."

He finally reached her as he began his speech. "I know we're not a couple anymore, okay? I get that. You've been very clear," he sighed, "but... I thought there was a little trust left between us. I thought that I still meant something to you."

Nini sighed at his words, "I just can't do this right now..." She tried to walk away, but Ricky stopped her.

"Fine. Okay. But the next time I spill my guts out to you in a voicemail, do me a favor and keep it to yourself. I don't need to be hearing from EJ that it's wrong and stupid."

"Wait," Nini raised her eyebrow in confusion, "what voicemail?"

Blake wasn't standing far behind when she heard her question him, remembering Nini telling Ms. Jenn that she had lost her phone, and seeing EJ's reaction to the news.

"What do you mean?" Ricky asked her.

Nini answered his question with another question, "you heard this from EJ?"

Ricky's eyebrows furrowed as thoughts flowed through his mind but for Blake, it had already clicked. EJ stole Nini's phone.

. . .

To Be Continued...

[antigonewinchester]

7 eps through season 12 and it continues to be strangely fascinating. I have criticisms for sure, but I’m holding off on them more specifically until at least the end of season, if only to put them in the full context and sort them out for myself.

overall, the show feels much more confident in itself than it has been for a while, and this confidence feels deeply connected to the story focusing more on Sam again, esp after the Carver era’s focus on Dean. a return back to the roots, w/ Sam as the more prominent character, and Dean back in a more supportive role. it’s the Luke vs. Han idea, w/ Sam as the “sensitive, smart protag” and Dean as the “funny bad-boy w/ a heart of gold.”

also the return back to the “Dean as a hunter, Sam as questioning it” framing. whenever the show hits a reset point, it always seems to pick up this dynamic again. take S8 and how much it echoed S1, in Sam out of hunting w/ a girlfriend and Dean returning back to him. it’s not as blatant in season 12, but Sam and Dean’s dynamic does remind me of their original attitudes, with Sam framed as questioning / wondering about hunting while Dean is seen as a hunter straight up. look at Sam and Dean’s convo in 12x06, right? (“SAM: Did you know people tell stories about us? / DEAN: Yeah. Apparently we’re a little bit legendary. / SAM: Yeah, but, I mean, so was Asa. Then a hunt went bad, and he ended up hanging from a tree, alone in the woods. / DEAN: He died on the job. No better way to go. / SAM: You really believe that? / DEAN: Yeah. What, you don’t? I mean, come on, Sam, it's not like we're in the “live till you're 90, die in your sleep” business. This? [DEAN points at ASA’S hunting wall] This only ends one way. / SAM: We should get back.) I suppose I’m zero-ing in on this framing in part because we know how the show, and Sam and Dean’s stories, ends now, and amongst so much of the fandom “it didn’t make sense!” opinions, I’m trying to figure out if the ending was actually foreshadowed and people just didn’t pick up on it, either unintentionally or deliberately.

on the other hand, in spite of its “reset” qualities, season 12 is also very self-aware in itself as the twelfth season of Supernatural. lots of dialogue call backs, characters talking about “who they are” in the whole context of the story, Mary as a returning character with so much history for the show both in-universe and on a meta level, Lucifer having his return in the body of an aging, has-been rock star, and his short monologue in 12x07 (LUCIFER: ...[God] needed my help, and He'd say anything to get it. His words, your words, they mean nothing. Don't you get it? This is all meaningless. Heaven. Hell. This world. If it ever meant anything that moment is past. Nothing down here but a bunch of hopeless distraction addicts, so filled with emptiness, so desperate to fill up the void... They don't mind being served another stale rerun of a rerun of a rerun. You know what my plan is? I don't have one. I'm just gonna keep on smashing Daddy's already broken toys, and make you watch.). the writers know the story could’ve ended much earlier but it’s still chugging along -- which is a weird spot to be in, admittedly. where else did the show have to go except to turn self-referential, look back at itself, go more meta? from a writing pov, I get the impulse, and obviously it gets increasingly meta up until the very end. while S8 was a reset, I do think the writers were trying to reckon w/ the whole show thru Carver’s era, even if they struggled w/ it. similarly, I get the feeling that S12 and beyond will try to reckon w/ the whole of the show, given how self-referential and meta it’s already gotten. (whether it does a good job w/ the meta aspects or not will be a different story.)

[salazarslytherin]

winner, loser. (j.p x y/n)

summary: james is determined to prove he is anything but a loser (ft. brother’s best friend james, the hockey player 😁)

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, slight dumbification

word count: 2.5k

a/n: inspired by me and @acosmis-t's convo about the best friend's brother/brother's best friend trope. also i literally NEVER proof read so please do not roast me if there are mistakes <3 reblog to boost please xxx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

“Imagine losing a game when you’re only a point off. Not a very good goalie, are we, James?”

“You suck, loser.”

Famous last words, huh.

That simple teasing quip spiralled into your brother’s best friend angrily rebuking you in the middle of their hockey team’s afterparty.

Your brother had long left the pair of you, instead, gone to play beer pong with a couple of the others. None of their friends was able to dissuade James from his chastising.

“…I’m an excellent goalie by the way! It’s just not my fault that Snape is a cheater…”

The bespectacled boy could tell that nothing he said was convincing you. You leaned on the kitchen counters smiling at him, almost mockingly. With every upturn of your lips, the brunet’s eye seemed to twitch. With every exhale of near-laughter, his fists clenched.

James Potter was anything but a loser.

And he was determined to prove it.

⚔︎.

You weren’t sure how it ended up this way, from James angrily gesturing and yelling about hockey plays, splashes of his scotch and soda spilling onto you with each exaggerated movement, to you sitting atop the granite counter in the guest bathroom, the hockey player tucked between your legs, devouring your lips as music thrummed throughout your house.

Calloused fingers pushed your t-shirt up, exploring your torso carelessly as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, teeth clashing against teeth, but the boy didn’t care.

Anger fuels tonight’s expedition.

James’s lips detach from yours for a brief moment, muttering a slightly breathless “take it off” as he lets go of your shirt.

His own came off in return, your eyes scanning his chest as he did yours, both of you reaching out to feel the other.

Muscles like detailing in a sculpture, the boy was David in glasses, only, his marbling was littered with specks of scars, left behind from games and fights with opposing teams.

Your bra fell from your shoulders, James tossing it haphazardly behind him as the padded cotton was replaced with warmth, his large hands cupping your bosom instantly. A moan echoed off the walls as his lips latched onto your collarbone, biting down hard as he squeezed your tits. It’s like you were made for each other — the flesh perfectly encapsulated in the goalie’s large hands.

Swarmed with nips and growls along your shoulders and beyond, there was no way you were wearing anything more revealing than a t-shirt for a few days, your hands found their way to James’s jeans, hooking your fingers into the belt loops as you pulled at them, trying to undo the denim.

In an instant, all contact was lost, James’s toned body pulling away from you as you whimpered, suddenly feeling the cold from the granite and the aircon seeping through the cracks under the door tenfold.

The thumping bass from the music was the only indication of time passing as you and James simply watched each other, memorising the way the hazel swirled in those irises.

Warmth returned as a hand landed on your thigh, squeezing it slightly as the hockey player hooked his other hand into your shorts, eyebrow raising as he awaited any protest. Finding a lack of any seeming disagreement, his hand moved from your thigh to your ass, pushing up slightly as you followed suit, lifting your hips so he could pull your bottoms off.

Sinking down onto his knees, James gripped your thighs tight, the calluses on his palms rubbing your inner thighs as he spread you open. You blushed as he saw you, all of you, the cold air in the room shocking your nipples juxtaposed by the warm air of James’s breath on your cunt.

You could feel yourself getting wet at the feeling, turning impossibly red as James chuckled, teeth grazing your inner thigh. Fingers caressed your lower lips, and you scrambled for the edges of the counter in shock as the goalie’s tongue darted out, the tip dragging along your slit. Gasping as James’s tongue dragged up to your clit, your fingers fumbled along the smooth surface to find something, anything, to hold onto. Sucking on your clit, the bespectacled boy hummed along to the song playing outside, his forefinger slipping inside of you.

Your hips bucked as James fucked you with his finger, your walls somehow already stretching around the long appendage. His lips detached from your clit as he removed his finger, feeling your slick flowing out of you as you whined at the loss of contact.

“Relax, princess.” The goalie’s tone was mocking, but you found yourself growing wet at the hypocorism, pouting at the tall boy as he grinned at you.

“Now, pay close attention.”

What the fuck is he talking about-

Oh my fucking god.

James’s lips landed back on your cunt, his tongue landing flat on your lips as he licked a wide stripe upwards, sucking tightly on your clit with a slurping sound so loud you were certain that people would have heard it if the music were just a tad softer. The appendage quickly began flicking at your clit, seemingly drawing shapes on the bundle of nerves. With each flick and each movement, your hips bucked upwards uncontrollably, hands unable to find a grip on the counter and threading the fingers in the boy’s hair instead.

In the midst of your lust-filled daze, you realised that James wasn’t just tracing aimless circles on your cunt.

Instead, he seemed to be drawing something.

Maybe this was what he wanted you to pay attention to.

You tried your best to figure out what exactly James was doing, but three strokes in you were gone. Your eyes shut close as you threw your head back, hitting the wall slightly but you couldn’t care less.

James Potter’s head was between your legs right now. You highly doubted you’d care even if the house collapsed on your heads right now.

Actually, you would. Because that meant you wouldn’t feel James on you anymore.

Your legs began to shake as your walls fluttered around nothing, faintly registering James drawing something like a snake on your cunt. Blubbering incoherently, your thighs closed around James’s head, fingers gripping the hairs as you pulled on the strands, orgasm rippling throughout your body.

Licking his lips, James pulled away from your cunt, a brow raised at you.

“I was barely halfway through.”

Your chest heaved as you recuperated from your orgasm, head leaning against the ornate mirror frame as you felt each and every thump of the heavy bass ring out through the house.

“Do you know what I told you to pay attention to?”

In the midst of a post-orgasmic fog, you barely caught onto the words that James had said. Instead, you noticed the way the boy’s lips glistened with your slick, nodding despite yourself.

“Well then princess, what was it?”

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to figure out what James had been doing.

“Um, were you drawing something?”

Your voice was timid, clearly uncertain of your answer, aware that it was either wrong or not what he wanted you to say.

The goalie cooed mockingly, his hand coming to tilt your chin and face him, a kiss landing on your lips, smearing you with the taste of your own nectar.

“All shy now, princess? What happened to the smart girl telling me how ‘m a bad player earlier? Dumb girl can barely take my tongue without falling apart, hmm?”

You whined as James’s hand travelled down to your tit again, squeezing it as he kissed the sweet spot behind your ear, sucking gently. Satisfied with his handiwork, James pulled away, nibbling on your earlobe before whispering,

“Pay better attention this time.”

Fingers trailed from your bosom down to your cunt, rubbing against it as his lips traced a path down the valley of your breasts, your slick drawing a line down your front as your hips bucked, James’s finger pushing inside of you once more.

The feeling of his tongue back against your clit made your back arch, all thoughts in your head evaporating at the contact. Your eyes fluttered shut as James went back to drawing, no, writing?, the inane puzzle he so desperately wanted you to unravel.

A second finger joined the first and you squealed, unintentionally joining the music outside in harmony as your hands flew to grip onto James’s hair once more, the stretch in your walls a welcomed stranger.

You could feel the rim of his glasses grazing your pelvis, the cold metal a jolting reminder that this was James, your brother’s best friend here in all his glory.

Flesh and blood, his heat became yours with every movement.

Your cunt was already sensitive from your first orgasm, and the goalie’s fervent movements didn’t help at all.

His fingers pumped in and out of you relentlessly, curling at the boy’s leisure as you let out a scream with each movement. His tongue flicked at your nub, each stroke reminding you that you had a ‘task’ at hand, but the pleasure rendered you incapable of completing it.

The boy was right. He really had fucked you dumb already.

Your walls clenched around James’s fingers as your orgasm peaked, his tongue moving inhumanely fast as every move taunted you. Your legs shook as James pulled his fingers out of you, gripping your thighs as his canvas enlarged, writing whatever he had to say all over your cunt as you rode out your orgasm.

Your eyelids felt heavy as your legs twitched around James’s slowly retreating body. In your blurred vision, you could see his handsome face nearing you, tongue skimming his bottom lip as your nectar dripped off his chin.

Your heart beat in rhythm with the bass rumbling under your body, James’s brow lifting, almost as if he was bored of the whole ordeal.

“So, what was it? I almost finished this time, I’m sure a smart girl like you can figure it out.”

Your mouth ran dry as your fog riddled mind scrambled to come up with an answer, opening and closing as you fought to expel some sort of coherent thought.

“Um, you were, um, writing something?”

The hockey player huffed in amusement, fingers swiping at his chin as he collected your slick on them, one hand cupping your jaw as the other prodded at your lips. Your mouth fell open at the slight contact, too far gone to even consider what James was doing.

You’d take anything he gave you at this point.

The boy cooed as you welcomed his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them amenably.

“Princess is taking my fingers so well, hmm? But poor dumb Y/N can’t even figure out what I was writing.”

James’s grip around your chin tightened at his words, making your jaw fall open.

“Guess you need to feel it again. And pay even better attention.”

The words made your hooded eyes snap open, whining around his fingers as you shook your head, the thought of a third orgasm making you shudder.

“N-no, James no more. Can’t take it, please.”

A calloused thumb rubbed circles on your jaw, the boy’s eyebrow raising and the corner of his mouth turning upwards at the sound of your pleading.

“Need to prove to you I’m not a loser though, princess. You were so adamant that I suck, gotta prove to you that I don’t, hmm?”

His hands traced down your body once more, settling on your thighs as he spread them, ready to prove himself to you. But you kept your thighs together as best you could, shaking your head beseechingly.

“Please, I-I’m sorry James, I didn’t mean it, I was wrong. You don’t suck. Y-you’re, um, you’re a winner. Not a loser. A winner.”

James’s eyes glinted from behind the dark frames, his hands stopping their prying at your frantic words.

“Say that again.”

Your thighs slackened, looking into the brunet’s eyes.

“You’re a winner.”

A smirk grew on James’s lips, pink tongue darting outwards to wet his lips, not that they weren’t already drenched in your nectar.

“That’s it, princess.”

His face moved back closer towards yours, breath ghosting your lips as his body hovered over yours, one hand moving to the band of his pants.

“James Potter is a winner.”

The taste of the goalie’s lips was addictive, maybe the fact that he was covered in your arousal made him more desirable, but you were entranced by it. Your hands came to cup the sides of his face as his pulled at his pants, unbuttoning the jeans and pulling them down to his midthigh. James’s tongue slotted deep within your mouth, swallowing your moans as his hands tucked under your knees, gripping tightly as he pulled you flush against him.

“D’you think you can take one more, princess?”

You whined at the brief loss of contact, pulling the goalie’s lips back against your own, the older boy chuckling at your desperation. James’s hand pumped at his shaft as he kissed you back, lip teasing your bottom lip as his tip did your lower lips.

You gasped around James’s tongue as he pushed into you fully, your cunt unbelievably sensitive from your previous two orgasms. The goalie bottomed out as his hand came back to catch your thigh, your legs wrapped around the hockey player’s toned waist. You bit down on James’s bottom lip as he pulled out of you slowly, his arms holding the bulk of your body weight, the veins in his arms protruding like strokes on a canvas.

As James thrust in and out of you with steady strokes, you could distinctly feel the cold granite digging into your lower back, a bruise definitely to be left behind in the morning. But you couldn’t care less, your mind only occupied with the feeling of James’s cock inside of you.

With each thrust, all James could hear was the sound of blades against the ice, sticks hitting sticks, spurring him to move his hips quicker.

James Potter was a winner.

And no one was allowed to say otherwise.

Your walls tightened around James’s cock, unable to hold out even a second longer, the overstimulation quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your nails dug into the boy’s shoulders, his digging into your thighs as your walls fluttered, eyes rolling back as you came on James’s cock.

You collapsed around the boy, his hips still thrusting as your arms slung around his neck, head lulling as you felt him groan, cock twitching inside of you as he spilt his seed. Your eyes remained half-closed as James shifted you to sit properly on the counter, pulling out from inside of you.

⚔︎.

“Now that’s what we call a hat trick. Three goals in one game, pretty impressive, wouldn’t you say?”

A laugh bubbled out of your mouth, proper judgement escaping your fog-riddled mind.

“You’re such a loser.”

A hand gripped your chin tightly, tilting your face up to face his.

“I’m a winner, do you need me to prove it again?”

You shook your head at the boy, spluttering and speechless at the thought of anything more.

“You’re a winner, I’m sorry.”

James let go of your chin, petting your jaw lightly.

“Good girl. Now, do you think you can go back to the party, or do you want me to carry you to your room, princess?”

taglist: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @themoonwithprophets, @moonys-gf, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover, @remoony1, @siriusblackwifeeey, @iamnibbsi, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @tomriddle_whore, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts, @jeannelupinblack, @i-love-scott-mccall, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @shit-thats-true, @dorcasmeadowesx, @sunflowersandpansies, @elenapatricia99, @90sgoldentrio, @itsmentalillness, @sprucewoodlover, @kiaslily, @daisyyy2516

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

How about a Levi x reader where his baby kept asking for him when he was at work so the reader has to call him while he’s in his office and him and the baby have cute convos on FaceTime even though they can’t even talk yet

Oh woah I loved this so much anon, I hope you enjoy my sweetheart 😭👉🏻👈🏻 everyone thank you in advance for reading I love yall

Pairing: Levi/ Reader ft baby Kuchel

Tags: fluff, domestic, daddy Levi, drabblity drabble

Warnings: None it's just that Kuchel is the sweetest baby and Levi is a workaholic dad and he canonically loves rice okay?

Face time

Golden rays of light peaked through the gaps of the story curtain illuminating the otherwise dull, gray and overly cold office, basking the walls in mellow tangerine. The bubbling sound of the well known ringtone filled the room, lingering as it bounced form wall to wall, getting louder with each passing second.

With tired eyes, Levi took a good look around the room before picking up his slim device in his hands. His finger dragged the jade button of acceptance, his chest leaving out a heavy sigh as he finally let go of the round, metallic pen that rested between the digits of his right hand. His face lit up, pale skin shimmering under the pumpkin colored light, his cheeks puffing up with a fresh huff of air.

"Dadda!"

The high pitched voice caressed his ears softly as his eyes squinted in pure delight masking the stoic man's face with a rather rare expression. His obsidian orbs were glued to the screen, his finger coming to lightly stroke down upon the pixels that formed his daughters teeny chubby face.

"Hey Levi, are we bothering you?" You asked waving an enthusiastic hand at him.

"Oh" he paused "Not at all, I needed a break actually."

The little girl cheered on your lap, her significantly smaller fists quivering before her collarbones on pure happiness.

"She can't wait for you to get home." You announced and your daughter nodded vigorously. "She blurted something about beauty and the beast while I put on the songs earlier. Tell daddy baby!"

"Booetey dah dah beeat!"

The little baby spoke with half confused expression on her face as her grey eyes wobbled with want between you and Levi. A tiny miscellaneous smile appeared on her lips, her few sets of teeth peaking slightly through her cherry lips as a sound of laughter escaped her upon realisation of her actual words.

"Okay, Beauty and the Beast it is!"

"Are you going to watch all of it Kuchel?" You smiled at her, poking the tip of your finger in her squishy cheek.

"Ya" she spoke with a sly laugh.

Levi sighed, running a hand through his shaggy bangs as he watched whike you struggled with trying to softly take Kuchel's hands away from the phone. The baby whined slightly, her chubby hands coming to softly tap onto what Levi guessed were her little thighs. Instinctively Levi brought down the bar on top of his phone eager to check at the time.

7.30 pm.

The ravenette's head throbbed from all the paperwork he had supervised and signed during the day. His mind run to you as his eyes watched you sympathetically. His chest was burning at the thought of coming home to you, taking a hot bath and sinking into the comfortable couch that stood proudly in your living room. He was growing impatient as he thought about your hands on his nape, rubbing soothing circles on his sore skin as he held Kuchel on his lap while the TV played her favorite Disney princess movie.

Damn he wanted to come back home. He didn't want to be stuck here behind enormous piles of paperwork just to get a decent paying promotion.

His sore arm felt like a log as he moved the phone to another spot, the camera quickly catching another angle of his sharp face. Deciding to ignore it he felt his eyes squinting once again at the sight of his daughter's bubbly little speech.

"You're tired, aren't you baby?" You inquired, your lips pushing into a thin line.

Levi took his hands off of his forehead and tried to half chuckle at you, yet the exhausted look on your face prevented him from doing so. Kuchel couldn't seem to sit in one place as she chirped for him, screaming occasional father honorifics at him as she tried to grab the phone off of you. Secretly, Levi resented that you had to stay with Kuchel for most of the day while he was trying to get that promotion.

But more money meant that you could out her in a good daycare once you'd have to get back to work after your maternity leave expired. And Levi felt responsible to help as much as he could when it came to his family so long as he could enjoy cozy nights at home like the one that was currently inside his head.

Seeing that his tongue had grown dry despite the bittersweet saliva of hunger, Levi savored the mellow taste as he felt his stomach spread and buzz in protest to its emptiness. Hunger growled angrily at the fleshy walls of his digestive organ and seeing that it was past his usual dinner time, Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Do you need anything to eat?" Levi questioned, his eyebrow cocking slightly at you as he spoke. "I think I should just come home, I'm too tired for these shitty papers."

"Languageeee!"

Kuchel screamed as you smiled at her father. With a slight nod and the familiar look of assurance on your face you told Levi that he shouldn't have to bring any take out for you to eat, you could just cook and call it a day, but that man clashed his tongue to his pallette as soon as you uttered that, a somehow sly smirk formed over his face.

"I actually want to cook alone with you, you brats. Wait for me won't you?"

"Of course we will baby!"

Another couple of bubbling giggles echoed through the walls of his office, this time acting as the only warmer he could ever need as the sky turned into a soft mixture of azure and violet. You and Kuchel waved maniacally at him, sending him a thousand kisses through the screen before pressing the button to hung up.

Immediately, Levi pushed his chair back, his legs straightening as he stood half exhausted and half proud over his spot. Shoving away any trace of paperwork that was on his way, his mind run through all the recipes he was eager to try out tonight as his mouth almost drooled at the thought of all the rice he cook for the night.

Oh, perhaps you could make fried rice, he told himself, almost smiling at the thought, that seemed like a great idea.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @nobody-knows-anymore @ackermans-freedom-inc @ladyofpandemonium @hawkssnugget @berrijam @callmepromise @levisbrat25 @melancholicmonologue

[arrowflier]

Prompt: Mickey apologizes to one of their neighbours for something that clearly wasn't his fault just to make Ian(who's in his people pleaser mode) happy. Later, Ian realises how Mickey was right all along and feels bad about the whole thing and they talk. Basically them having a mature convo at the end

Ian heard the shouting as soon as he stepped out into the courtyard. Mickey had come down earlier to take a quick dip, and Ian was hoping to join him and relax together for a while.

But based on the way his husband and one of their neighbors were yelling right then, that clearly wasn't in the cards.

Ian sighed, and closed his eyes briefly. Was it really too much to ask that Mickey get along with the people in their building? He didn't even have to make friends, he just had to not be an asshole to everyone he met.

A particularly loud shout--something about children, and language, and have some common decency--forced Ian out of his reflections and toward the apparent catastrophe that was Mickey in public.

“Dammit, Mickey,” he muttered under his breath as he rounded the last corner and brought the pool into view.

Sure enough, Mickey was there.  He stood at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, like he had just hoisted himself out, water droplets still lingering on his sculpted arms and chest.  His arms were raised and held out to the side in challenge as he blustered on about public space, and freedom of speech, and I’ll do you one worse lady, just you watch just inches away from a middle-aged woman that looked like she had stepped out of a lululemon ad.

Ian was pretty sure it was the same woman who had stopped him at the elevators last week to ask him to “keep it down up there”.  They really didn’t need to cause more trouble with her; Mickey had them on thin ice already when his response to Ian relaying that request was to play loud, bass-thumping music while riding Ian into the floor for effect.

She hadn't met his eyes since.

"What's going on here?" Ian interrupted, coming up behind Mickey and settling a hand on the back of his husband's neck.

"This lady was tryin to--" Mickey cut off when Ian squeezed and released that hand in warning. Mickey glowered at him, but shut his mouth.

"Your husband," the woman said with a glare at Mickey, "was setting a bad example for my nephew."

Looking around for the aforementioned child, Ian sighed when he saw a little boy staring at them all from a pool lounger with wide eyes.

"We're sorry, Mrs...," he trailed off, but she didn't bother to fill in the blank for him, instead just raising her eyebrows and tapping her sandaled foot expectantly.

"Uh, anyway, it won't happen again," Ian finished awkwardly. "Right, Mick?"

"Are you kidding me, Gallagher?" Mickey asked, incredulous.

"I expect a direct apology from your husband," the woman demanded at the same time.

Ian raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and gave Mickey a little shake when the other man didn't speak up.

"Come on, Mick, just do it," Ian muttered.

After a tense moment, Mickey did.

"Fucking fine," he hissed at Ian, ignoring their neighbor's sharp intake of breath at the curse. "I'm fucking sorry, alright?," he directed at her, before pulling out of Ian's hold to face him.

"You happy now?" he asked, before turning and stomping off to go inside.

The effect was dampened by the soft slapping sound of his bare feet hitting the pavement, leaving behind wet marks on the concrete. Ian and the woman watched him go with drastically different expressions: one with disgust, and one with concern.

"I do hope you'll keep your man in line better in the future," the woman groused at Ian, but he wasn't really listening.

"Yeah, sure," he answered absently. "Excuse me, I just gotta..."

And then he was scooping up the towel and shoes Mickey had left behind, and hurrying after his husband.

---

"Mickey?" Ian called out hesitantly as he entered their apartment. Other than a couple of damp patches on the floor, there was no sign of Mickey anywhere.

Then Ian heard the shower start, and set Mickey's things down next the door to follow the sound.

Mickey's wet trunks were pooled on the cold tile floor, the shower curtain pulled tight from wall to wall. The splash of water bouncing from flesh to the acrylic tub echoed through the room.

"Mickey?" Ian asked softly, taking a step past the open door. "Mick, you in here?"

He heard a snort over the sound of the water, the curtain moving as Mickey's arm jostled it from inside.

"No, it's your other husband, Sherlock," Mickey answered, an odd tone in his voice. "You know, the one you listen to before you take some random bitch's side."

Ian winced. Okay, Mickey was mad, then.

Moving further into the room, Ian closed the lid of the toilet and turned to sit on it, elbows on knees.

"Sorry," he offered briefly. "But she had a point Mick, there are kids here--"

The water stopped abruptly, and the curtain pulled back to reveal Mickey’s face.  His hair flopped wetly over his forehead, water still sluicing down the middle of his face, and he scowled as he brushed it away with the back of a dripping hand.

“Kid, huh?” he questioned  “So I need to go get my fucking tattoos removed because some random kid might see ‘em?”

Ian blinked.

“Wait,” he said slowly, mind trying to figure out what he was missing.  “What?” then scoffed when Ian just watched him.

Mickey just scoffed.  

“You don’t even know what she was yellin’ about, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t say a damn word to her or that sniveling brat she brought with her,” he revealed.  “They took one fucking look at me, saw the words on my knuckles, and off she went on her little fucking tirade.”

“Shit, Mickey,” Ian started, but Mickey wasn’t done.

“Don’t you act like it matters,” he growled.  “You care more about playing nice than payin’ attention, and don’t pretend that after all these years you don’t still assume I’m always the fuckin’ problem.”

Fuck.  Ian had really screwed this one up.

“Mickey,” he repeated, more firmly, standing and stepping closer to the shower.  Ian took the shower curtain in one hand and tugged it further to the side.  Mickey shivered in the influx of cool air, looking more like a disgruntled cat mid-bath than an angry man.

“Mickey,” Ian said again, softer, and stepped over the lip of the tub so that nothing was between them.  He took Mickey into his arms, his husband putting up a token resistance before settling against him with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered into his wet hair, ignoring the patches of water soaking through his clothes.  “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mickey hummed into his chest, not looking up.  “You kind of did, though,” he mutters.  “Every time somebody’s got a problem with me, you act like it’s my fault.”

Silence, for just a moment.

“Yeah,” Ian finally agreed, stroking a hand down Mickey’s bare back.  “Yeah, I need to work on that.”

He pulled back, made Mickey meet his eyes.  Mickey was no longer glaring, and his eyes were dry, but there was still something off about the way he met Ian’s gaze.

“You know I don’t really think that, though, right?” Ian asked, disheartened when Mickey didn’t offer a response.

“I don’t, Mickey,” he said earnestly.  “I love you, and you’ve been trying so hard--”

“Shouldn’t fuckin’ have to try,” Mickey murmured, and oh.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Ian rephrased.  “And I’m sorry I’m always making you feel like you do, too.”

Mickey moved back farther, and Ian’s arms dropped loosely back to his sides.  His fingers itched to reach out again, but he got the feeling Mickey needed some space.

“Okay,” Mickey said.  “Get outa here so I can finish.”

Ina obeyed, stepping out of the tub and moving toward the door, but he turned back before he left the room.

“When you’re done, come into the bedroom, alright?” he asked quietly.  “I’ve got an idea to get back at that asshole woman.”

“Apology or not,” Mickey said wryly, “I don’t think I’m on the mood to fuck you right now, Ian.”

Ian just smirked. 

“Not what I had in mind,” he said.  “Now hurry it up, I think you’re gonna like my plan.”

---

About twenty minutes later, after the shower had started and stopped again and Mickey had had a moment to gather himself and get dressed, Mickey walked into the bedroom and stopped still.

Ian was sitting on their bed, fully dressed, but that wasn’t what had Mickey startled.  No, it was the fact that right in front of him was a huge stereo with old school speakers, the ones that used to be downstairs in the communal lounge area, with Ian’s phone sitting right on top.

“What’s all this?” Mickey asked, and Ian grinned.

“So she doesn’t like profanity, huh?” he said.  “Well I found a favorite new song.”

Mickey started to grin himself as he caught on to the plan.  Ian stood and pushed one of the speakers a little closer to the vents in their floor, angling it so the sound would bounce right down into the apartment below.  Then he tapped a few things on his phone, cranked the volume, and let harsh base and more expletives than Mickey had ever heard in a piece of music fill the room.

Mickey laughed.  Ian held out a hand, like he was asking for a dance, and turned the music up even louder.

Shaking his head at his husband’s antics, Mickey took the proffered hand, and let Ian spin him to the sound of their bitchy neighbor losing her mind below them.

[writingforfun0714]

Here’s my first Star Wars fanfic, a Bad Batch fic. It’s an AU (alternate universe) of the finale, specifically the last scene where they leave Crosshair behind. Now in my story he still doesn’t join the Batch, but they don’t just leave him on that platform. They offer him a ride to a neutral(ish)planet—Florum (idk if that’s close to Kamino—I’m not that knowledgeable on Star Wars planets). A little convo between Omega and Cross because I loved their interactions. He’s harsh and severe but not outright hostile towards her and she’s bubbly, curious, typical sheltered child that wants to learn about everything. Hoping for more of them in S2 and Cross’s redemption arc.

Warnings—none

*The clone ages are my own head cannon-y ages and might (probably don’t line up with canon)

Gen1-Omega/Echo-11

Gen2-Hunter/Wrecker/Tech/Crosshair-about 5 or so (chronologically-biologically probably close to late 20’s or early 30’s? Also the accelerated age rate is a little over 2x in my head-canon)

Left Behind—Bad Batch finale AU

The sun shines on Kamino, which seems like forever ago, as Omega turns to face Crosshair, who’s looking out at the vast ocean that covers the water planet.

“You’re still their brother Crosshair. You’re my brother too,” Omega says, tears glistening in her eyes. Crosshair glances back at her, shuts his eyes and sighs. What he had told Omega earlier wasn’t true. She was one of the Batch because they need her as much as she needs them. All of them. Including Crosshair.

“Fine,” Crosshair sighs before glaring at Hunter, who’s standing at the ship’s open doorway. “But I’m not going with you. Florum. Drop me off on Florum,” Crosshair enunciates the word ‘not’ to Omega’s disappointment.

“Fine. It’s on our way out anyways,” Hunter says, motioning for the two to come aboard. Omega glances at Crosshair, still with a small smile on her face as he follows her on board.

Tech, Echo and Wrecker look and see their older brother with their eldest brother and the young girl who is technically their older sister, the eldest, aside from Echo, who is the same age.

“You’re..coming with us?” Wrecker asks hopefully. Crosshair doesn’t look at him, glancing away, not even answering the larger clone.

“We’re dropping him off on Florum. He’ll go his way..we’ll go ours,” Hunter explains. Both Wrecker and Omega visibly sadden at Hunter’s words, since his word is final.

“Tech, chart our course. We have to get out of here before the Empire shows up,” Hunter orders and the Tech, the pilot nods. The ship powers up and starts taking off.

Crosshair takes a seat and sighs, rubbing his scarred temple. Echo goes to help Tech. Being the reg of the group, it wasn’t that he didn’t get along with Crosshair, but they had their arguments. Wrecker and Hunter share a look while Omega is the one to approach Crosshair.

He glances at her and sees the concern in her eyes. The same brown eyes as Hunter’s. As so many clones.

“What is it with you?” Crosshair asks, irritated. Omega tilts her head in confusion at his question.

“Your attachment to them? To him?” Crosshair asks bluntly.

“I told you, they’re my brothers…just like you are. I remember seeing you and the others when you were too young to remember. I vowed to find you all again after Nala Se sent you to be with the rest of the cadets—after we were separated,” Omega explains while Crosshair takes in what she tells him.

“But..why?” Crosshair asks once she’s finished.

“You didn’t treat me like the other clones. I know you might not remember this, but we used to play together. I helped teach you the alphabet, how to walk, all the firsts. I was with Nala Se every step of the way,” Omega explains. Crosshair’s eyes widen and when he looks at the little blonde girl, he knows she’s being truthful. The clones didn’t really know much of their ‘childhood’.

“Do you…really not like me?” Omega asks in a timid voice, forcing Crosshair to look at her. The look on her face is almost too much for the sniper and he looks away.

“You’re…not…horrible,” Crosshair says rather awkwardly, but you wouldn’t know it by how big Omega smiled, causing the sniper to sigh.

“Unless you do that-“ Crosshair sneers.

“What? Smile?” Omega asks innocently, but Crosshair merely rolls his eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m horrible. That’s a start,” Omega says, taking a seat next to the sniper, who shakes his head slightly.

“I know you want to go your own way…but we’ll miss you. I’ll miss you, it’s not the same without you,” Omega tells the gray-haired clone. She pulls out the comlink information she gave to Hera and hands it to Crosshair. He blinks and looks at it.

“What’s this?” He asks, taking the small metal chip.

“Our comlink channel. Contact us any time you’re ready to come home,” Omega tells him. He looks at her as the word ‘home’ rings in his head. He looks and sees the girl is completely serious.

“We’ll be waiting for you,” she assures him so wholeheartedly, it makes him freeze for a moment as his brain comprehends what’s happening. He hadn’t even realized they entered hyperspace.

The Havoc Marauder exits hyperspace.

“We made it,” Echo announces. They enter the atmosphere and come to a small outpost. Tech lands the ship easily as Crosshair gathers what he needs from his weapons kit still stashed on the ship, slipping the data chip Omega gave him in one of his utility belt pockets.

“Crosshair..what I said on Kamino,” Hunter says, getting the sniper’s attention.

“About wanting different things…Omega’s right. We want you back. But if you feel you have to go off on your own…we won’t force you to stay. But the kid’s right. Your place is with us. No matter what. And whenever you’re ready, give us a call,” Hunter says, clearly having overheard their conversation earlier. Crosshair sneers, though it’s all playful, just like they used to.

“Couldn’t help but listen in huh sarge?” Crosshair asks.

“You’re off your game as loud as you were,” Hunter counters back playfully. Crosshair smirks.

“I…have your contact info,” Crosshair assures them, patting the utility pouch he slipped the chip in. Hunter nods.

“We’re gonna miss you Cross. Don’t forget about us,” Wrecker tells the skinnier, gray-haired clone with a loving shove that is a bit too forceful.

“How could I when you give me a bruise to look at?” Cross asks, again, no real malice in his naturally harsh or curt tone. Tech was right. Severe and unyielding defines Crosshair. It is his nature.

“Good luck Crosshair..I hope you get what you want,” Echo tells Crosshair. He nods silently, hoping for the same, because, at the moment, Crosshair’s not sure what he wants. That’s when Omega walks up.

“We’ll be waiting for you. Be safe brother,” Omega says and wraps her small arms around the Crosshair’s waist, which is slimmer and leaner than his brothers, easier for Omega to wrap around. He flinches slightly at the contact, never one for it, even from his own brothers, but he he learned to tolerate and eventually even…sometimes…like it. Though the hug from Omega, a kid no less, throws him, but the encouraging nod from Hunter causes him to awkwardly pat her back.

“Don’t get into too much trouble kid,” Crosshair replies to Omega and she pulls away to look up and smile at him.

“And for kriffing’s sake stop looking at me like that-“ Crosshair complains, though the glint in his eye and the smirk on his lips suggests he doesn’t really mean it. Omega giggles and nods as he walks down the steps, off the ship.

He turns back and sees his brother…and his sister, looking at him from the open doorway.

“Our paths will meet again,” Crosshair tells Hunter, who nods with a smile.

“Like I said Cross. We’ll be waiting,” he says and Crosshair nods once before walking off with the rest of the Bad Batch making sure he gets to the outpost ok.

“You really think he’ll call us?” Wrecker asks Hunter, causing the others to look at their sergeant as the door of the ship shuts.

“When he’s ready Wrecker. You know Crosshair as well I as do. It’s gotta be on his terms,” Hunter tells Wrecker, before looking down at Omega.

“Nice work kid…I think you really got through to him,” Hunter says, placing a strong, loving hand on Omega’s shoulder as she looks up at him.

“Not just me. All of us. What we all said. I think it may have helped,” Omega tells Hunter as Tech preps the ship for take off back to Ord Mantell, unsure of where else to go. Hunter turns and sees Tech plotting the course.

“Ord Mantell?” Hunter asks.

“Cid is the most reliable source of income we have at the moment,” Tech explains and Hunter nods.

“Right then, back to Cid’s,” Hunter says and Omega smiles and nods, liking the Trandoshan bar owner.

“Back to Cid’s,” Omega repeats with a nod as the ship rises and flies off into the sky.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: vii

(M (for now!)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||   chapter 3   ||  chapter 4   ||   chapter 5   ||  chapter 6   ||  chapter 8  ||

masterlist

word count: ~5.2k

the details

warnings: a little spice (see that M warning!), soft shit & emotional convos

beta’ed: @keiqos 

---

wow :’^) through thick and thin, this one got here! thank u to molb for beta reading!!! this is beginning of the second act/final half of the story, a little ~*plot*~ if u will. enjoy 💗

||||||||||||||||||||||

Being in Hawks’ arms was heaven, you were sure of it.

When he’d said that he’d ‘never done this before’, you, that first night, had confirmation that ‘this’ definitely did not refer to physical intimacy. It couldn’t, not with the way he had touched you. 

His warm, well-trained hands squeezing and pulling you apart perfectly. He read each of your breaths and sighs like they were an in-depth instruction manual that he was meant to study, memorizing the perfect ways to make you cry his name.

...

Hawks was a fast learner.

 “You’re gorgeous, you know that, right?” Hawks said with a kiss to your cheek, lips trailing to your jaw. “You’re fucking beautiful, angel.”

Your thighs hugged around his, your booted foot half-supported by the couch below. Straddling his lap had been a bold move, but neither of you complained, hardly. The shocked look that Hawks had first worn had melted into one of hot-blooded lust.

You drank it all in, him all in, greedily. 

“You’re not bad yourself, you know,” You giggled at the compliments. He’d been laying them on thick as the night wore on, not that you were complaining. “I wasn’t lying earlier, agreeing that you were hot and all. It’s a little distracting.”

“‘Distracting’?” You could hear the raise in Hawks’ brow. “Spill it, dove. How am I ‘distracting’?”

You opened your mouth, ready to give him an entire heap of ego-boosting praise about how fucking hot he was in civilian clothes (and in general), but the words died in your throat as his hands trailed along your hips, dipping just below the hem of your shirt. His touch brushed along your bare skin and the waistband of your bottoms.

You sucked in a shaking breath. 

“Angel,” Hawks’s sing-song voice washed over you as his nimble fingers stroked at your sides and quick teeth nipped at your jaw. “I’m waiting.”

His purposefully mind-snagging moves were all calculated, each brush and touch he gave you turning you gooey over him. 

“U-uh,” You stuttered, Hawks snickered against your skin. You really would’ve loved to give him some sort of lip, but the gentle bites to the fragile skin of your neck made your words turn to smoke in your skull. “I-I mean, right now, w-what you’re doing.”

Hawks being a tease was hardly surprising.

“I’m sorry,” Hawks paused, hot breath tickling your ear. “I couldn’t catch that, angel. How am I distracting you? What am I doing?”

The bastard.

“Y-You’re—” You cut yourself off with a yelp. Hawks had taken to sucking at a bite mark on your neck, laving the bruise with his tongue. Pain pricked deliciously across your skin, and you let your head fall away to bare more for him.

“I’m surprised, you’re usually so good with words.”

You normally were, the banter you and Hawks shared was a testament to that. But with his lips and searing hands grabbing and damn near worshipping whatever they could, you were at a loss for words. You were more than happy to, balling up the back of Keigo’s sweater in your clammy palms. 

 Keigo was in rapture, he was sure of it. 

The sweetness of the earlier moment of the night was still there in each peck and sweet caress. It radiated in each action. 

The tension had simply been allowed to break. 

The goodness was all foreign to him, something he’d never really known. 

Keigo had plenty of sex— good sex, by definition. He wasn’t a slouch in bed, he knew that much. He’d been given glowing reviews time and time again. But, that was all hookups or platonic flings, nothing even close to the stored up desires that were finally able to be expressed.

Your sweet body already trembling over him with just easy touches got him harder and hotter than he’d been in a long time, probably ever. 

It was you, as cliche as it was. The familiar scent of your perfume clouding over him, the little gasps and whines from the back of your throat, even the taste of your quickly salting skin drove Keigo wild. And it was all so intimately close. 

He was suffocating in you and he loved every moment of it.

Keigo had already learned you from his side of the teashop’s counter. He mentally prided himself on recognizing your mannerisms after so many months of conversation and coffee. The little quirks in your movements and words that told their own stories.

The pride, of course, came from being able to use his trained interpersonal skills for something good, something that he knew was good.

With that first kiss, that sweet, sweet first embrace (of many), Keigo could finally indulge in learning about you in a new way.

He wanted to learn what would make you melt. 

Keigo’s wings twitched, sensing how each nip to your jaw made your hips stutter like you were repressing the urge to roll them down onto his lap. 

With each press of his thumbs against your sides, he could feel your breath catch, soft sounds muffled in the back of your throat.

You were perfect.

 “H-Hawks!” His name cracked from your lips as he dragged down the collar of your sweater, sucking a bruise onto your collarbone. 

Hawks chuckled against your neck, hot breath making you hazy in the best way, “This alright?”

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, giving him all the permission in the world to go to town.

Hawks wasn’t too rough with you, just sparks of teeth and nails that made your chest arch into his own. Keigo seemed more than content to have you in his lap, undoing you slowly like it was his divine mission. 

It might as well have been, with his pretty scarlet wings unfurled. You’d never seen them so close, noticing all of the filaments and their depth and colors. 

Throughout you and Hawks’s long, handsy makeout session, his wings (had they always been so massive?) slowly stretched out and open with each gasp and grunt. You’d catch the feathers trembling, shuddering when you ran your hands over the lean muscle of Hawk’s chest, fingers tracing up his ribs. You watched the plumage dance from their roots to the largest feathers when you graced him with the rare grind down onto his straining bulge.

“Can I touch them?” You asked breathlessly, head tilted to allow Hawks all the room in the world to mark up your neck.

He paused, the feathers shuddering in a wave-like pattern. You were mesmerized.

“They’re sensitive, so you have to be gentle.”

You paused, but only for a moment. 

Hawks’ words from earlier echoed in your skull:

“I’ve never done any of this.”

Further questions rattled just behind it.

What does that even mean?

He certainly knew how to turn you into a puddle with confidence, so you could only assume the tabloids had been somewhat right in saying that he was... experienced. 

(You were confident that you were only seeing a glimmer of what he was capable of. The prospect made your breath leave your lips hotter and harder.)

You shoved the thought off in favor of reaching behind him, carefully placing a hand on a downy bone near the root. 

Hawks went rigid with your touch, freezing against your neck. The grip on your hips was nearing bruising, but you didn’t move your hand other than a few gentle strokes from the pads of your fingers.

It had Hawks shaking beneath you. 

“This okay?”

Hawks nodded, taking a big breath, pressing his face into your neck, “Yeah. You won’t break me, I promise.”

You trusted him.

You ran your thumb along the spindly bone. The texture was odd, but not unpleasant, firmness covered by petal-soft feathers. Even if it had been weird to touch, you wouldn’t have minded. 

You couldn’t have, not with the high, sinful moan that croaked from Hawks’s lips.

You smirked, “Does it feel good?”

Hawks’ breath grew more ragged as your grip drifted to the roots. 

It was more than enough of an answer. 

“That seems like a yes— Why don’t you tell me about it? How my hands feel right here...”

You could tease Hawks right back.

Your hold went the tiniest bit tighter, a few of your nails barely grazing him.

 Keigo hadn’t been expecting the touch.  

No one touched his wings. He plucked and preened them himself, using a bit of special oil for them on the rare occasion that he was in the mood for some pampering. His time training with the Commission drilled into his mind that his wings were him, beautiful weapons that required coveting.

So, he surprised himself when he so freely allowed you to touch them.

Then again, he trusted you an almost scary amount for the lack of definition your... relationship now had. 

When your nails went against the grain of the small, soft, feathers at the base of his wings, the moan that ripped from his throat was entirely involuntary. The way his hips bucked up was too.

The way he accidentally sent you tumbling to the ground was very unintentional.

If Keigo hadn’t been caught in the absolute euphoria of his wings being touched by someone good for the first time in his life, he probably would’ve been able to catch you.

But, he was distracted.

 Your back hit the carpet below, uninjured leg bracing your fall while the booted one shot up awkwardly, saving it from any impact. Your head spun despite not being hit, fully jarred from the sudden motion. 

Hawks immediately sat up, sputtering and helping you from the ground. His feathers aided where they could, re-propping your boot and settling you against him. 

“It’s okay, it totally happens, Hawks,” You tried to soothe him. 

“Are you sure? I can get you so ice if you need—”

“Hawks, I’m alright, really, love” The affection slipped out easily as you popped a kiss onto his jaw. “I’m totally okay. Besides, it’s worth it to know how sensitive those wings of yours are.”

“Be careful there, angel,” Hawks’s cheeks lit with blush, smothering face in your hair to hide it, “Using those against me has some... consequences.”

The thought made your insides burn in the best way. 

“Oh yeah?” You raised your eyebrows, thinking of the wonderful possibilities. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

Any... tension in the room diffused, though not unpleasantly. 

You fell against Hawks, pressing your nose into his arm. Your earlier fears of getting ‘too used’ to him were now very much a reality, an unavoidable one. You had already come to crave the heat of his touch and the baritone of voice. 

You accepted the fact, squeezing him.

It was inevitable, really.

...

You knew it was late, very late, probably early morning. You and Hawks had been all over each other for hours, and as nice as it was, you could feel sleep beginning to pull at the back of your eyes. Despite the exhaustion and quiet aches of the marks across your skin, you didn’t want to stop, not at all.

Admitting you were tired meant that Hawks had to leave and that would mean facing reality. 

As lovely as the evening was, there was plenty swirling that was left unsaid. Things that needed to be addressed, though you both stalled. There were plenty of bits and pieces that wouldn’t be pleasant to talk about, details that could ruin the precious air of the night.

You leaned into him, eyelids sagging against your will. 

“Aww,” Hawks giggled, pulling you closer by the waist, as if you had spoken your insecurities, rather than just thinking about them. “You getting tired, dove?”

You nodded against him, tucking into his side the best you could like it could stop the inevitable. 

“Do you want me to stay?”

The question surprised you. Your guts fluttered at the prospect. 

God, was it an alluring idea.

With obvious implications.

You swallowed.

 It’s all going too fast.

The months of leadup and heat between your thighs didn’t assuage your fears. If anything, it made your fear the deep-end of a night together more. 

“Hey, you’re getting nervous, I can literally see it,” Hawks frowned, tipping up your head. Even the little, casual touches he got to give you made your hearts pound. “I don’t have to.”

“No, it’s like—” You ran a hand down your cheeks. “I want you too, that would be very nice, I’m just a little...”

You struggled to find the words, even feeling your quirk begin to stir. Anxiety prickled like jolts of sour berries across your tongue, burning your eyes and nose. You scrunched your face, shaking your head and willing yourself to relax.

“Overwhelmed?” 

Hawks was right, of course, with his observational skills being so unmatched. He probably even noticed your quirk activating with the widening of your pupils.

“Yeah, you could say that.” you sighed, finding his hand to squeeze it. “It all just feels really fast, you know? I really want to sleep next to you, with you, yet... I don’t even know your real name.”

Hawks went still and tense. 

 Keigo hadn’t really thought about that part. 

Of course, you’d want to know his name. It was only natural, every hero had a civilian name.

Except for him. 

He was Hawks, the hero of Fierce Wings and unrivaled speed. That was him. His name was Hawks.

Keigo had been Hawks for years. His identity was tied to the name, melded to it. They were inseparable. He hadn’t been called anything else in so long, not since he was a shiny new recruit. Any other name had been torn from him, snuffed out and suffocated long ago. 

Every news report and every article, all the calls from friends and colleagues, every scolding he received was always for Hawks.

Never Takami Keigo.

Yet, sitting there on your well-worn couch, surrounded by the warmth of your apartment and your own heat nestled into his side, his given name bobbed to the surface of his psyche.

It lay on the tip of his tongue, Keigo mulling over the personal consequences of telling you his birth name.

This was all different for him anyway, right?

Maybe it would be good to use his name for something good. 

Maybe using his name would be okay.

(Even if it was scary.) 

 “Uh, Hawks? Are you okay?” You asked, rubbing his knee. 

His eyes had gone blank, gazing far-off like you’d never seen before. Hawks even had a nervous bounce in his knee. His body was rigid against yours.

Concern bloomed in your gut. 

“Hey, Hawks,” You tried to get his attention again. “You’re okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Hawks shook his head, biting his lips and mussing his already sexed-up hair. You bit your lip, refusing to move, not wanting to force any unwanted affections on him. 

A sigh shook from his chest. 

Carefully, he met your worried gaze. 

His eyes, all prettied and honeyed, looked a hell of a lot more-wide and fear-filled then you’d ever seen.

 “It’s Keigo. My name is Takami Keigo.”

You rolled the name around in your skull. Reaching for his hands, you brought them into your own lap.

It wasn’t hard to tell that it wasn’t easy for him to say. 

“That's a really pretty name. Thank you for telling me.” Gently, you rubbed the pads of your thumbs into his palms. The sensation shot up Keigo’s spine, making him sit up a few degrees straighter. “People tend to hold a lot of tension in their hands.”

 Keigo nodded, unusually silent (you got him that way a lot), unsure of what to say, genuinely and truly. His heart was pounding and he was sure you could feel the layer of sweat slicking his palms. 

“You can’t tell anyone my name, (Y/N). Can’t even joke about telling people, okay?”

You squeezed his hands, “Whatever I need to do, I’ve got you, okay, Keigo?”

It was the first time he’d heard his real name in years.

He was incredibly glad that it was from you, assuring him in the same breath. 

...

Vulnerability was terrifying. 

Keigo liked you, irrefutably. A lot. But, all of the nuts and bolts of actually having a relationship (would you two even have that?) seemed daunting. There was plenty to figure out that you had been electing to ignore. 

“There’s a lot I won’t ever be able to tell you,” Keigo forced himself to fess up. He had to lie strategically all the time, but it wasn’t the time to. “Even if I want to.” 

“That’s okay. We’ll both have to be flexible.” You replied quickly, probably not taking enough time to fully mull over the extent of what you’re saying. You slid your hand into his. “Can I be honest too?”

“Of course.” Keigo tugged, urging you back onto his lap. He liked you there the best so far. He could wrap you in his arms so well, satisfying that deep need to keep you safe. 

When you got situated on top of his thighs, you wrapped your arms tentatively around his chest, careful to avoid the base of his wings.

“I’m terrified.” You pressed your face into his chest. “That’s probably why I didn’t say anything for so long.”

 “Oh, dove,” Keigo hugged you tight to him. “You don’t need to be scared of anything. I keep people safe. It’s literally my job.”

“It’s different, though, this kind of stuff,” You replied, voice soft and low. “Aren’t you scared at all?”

Of course he was.

A lot. 

And he had to say so, didn’t he?

Honesty— real, cogent, emotionally mind-bending honesty, felt uncomfortably new on Keigo’s tongue. 

He would have to learn to reflect your own. 

“I’ve never been with anyone before, not like this anyways.” Keigo hated how weak his voice was, nothing like the silken charm he was used to exuding. “So, you could say I’m a little scared.”

“We can go slow,” You easily responded, tilting your face to meet Keigo’s. “I know it’s not normally your thing, but I think we have to.”

“I’ll manage,” Keigo cupped the side of your face, the remnants of tension bleeding from the muscles of his back as he let himself smile (hopefully). “So, you want to?”

“‘Want to’ what?” You asked, tilting your head in his hands. 

Keigo relished the way you leaned into him, letting him bear a bit of your body weight. He accepted the responsibility without hesitation, an idle hand stroking at your hips. 

“I know that functionally, we don’t know a ton about each other, but,” Keigo exhaled, noting how your eyes went soft and a bit glassy. “And I’ve never done this, but like, a relationship. Try it, anyway.”

 You only took a moment to answer, hardly pausing. 

It was a given, wasn’t it? 

With the big, intense feelings that had made their home in your insides long ago and had been given so much time to grow, it only made sense to at least try. Your feelings had roots that ran deeper than just those suited for fucking for sport.

You already cherished each other. 

“Of course, tailfeathers,” You stretched to kiss the stubble on his chin. “I like you a whole lot, you know.”

“I like you plenty too, but really?” Keigo falsely frowned. “‘Tailfeathers’? I thought we were passed that one?”

“I dunno,” You smirked to yourself, curling your free, uninjured leg over his own. “Maybe I could be persuaded to find another bird-adjacent nickname.” 

“Like?”

“Is lovebird too cliche?” You looped your arm around his neck. “Maybe just birdboy, the classic.”

“Hmmm,” Keigo’s squeezed your sides. “Not sure if I’m much of a lovebird, dove.”

“You sure about that?” You flickered your eyes to note that Keigo had you entirely wrapped up in his arms, wings shuddering in time with your own breaths. “I think you might be on your way.

“Maybe,” Keigo huffed, pressing his lips to yours. “Just for you, dove. Just for you.”

You melted into each other, starting the beloved dance all over again, not caring how late the night wore on. You were both certain, silently, that this would not be the last time you’d find yourselves like this. You both could only hope that there would be many more nights spent tangled up in each other, both sweet and spiced.

For now, you, together, settled for the blessed slowness of it all. 

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 Keigo did stay the night. 

You loaned Keigo an old shirt (that you didn’t mind cutting slits in for his wings)  and a pair of sweatpants, even loaning him a toothbrush. Deliberately, you placed it in its own cup, just in case he stayed over again.

(He would.) 

It was a little nerve-wracking, clambering into bed together. 

Your room was decorated and lit the same way the rest of your home was. The same soft, diffused lighting cast your room with a yellow glow. You had taken a brief moment to hastily (but carefully) tuck several plushies on top of a desk in the corner, chatting over your potential embarrassment.

(Truthfully, Keigo thought it was adorable that you had a myriad of stuffed animals that you slept with. It made your bed look a whole lot more... nestlike. It scratched an itch deep in his bird-adjacent brain that he didn’t know he had.)

You two slid beneath the sheets, though you stayed sitting up, fisting the sheets in clenched fingers.

You knew the implications of sleeping together, obviously. 

“H-hey, you know how we said we’d go slow?” You swallowed, glancing down at Keigo.

“Yeah, dove?” He flipped onto his side, peering up at you. 

You fidgeted.

It was a conversation that you hated having. It was always met with disappointment or confusion or both.

“I meant it.” You sighed, relenting and fluffing a hand through his messy hair. Remaining blunt about your reality was always the best option, you’d danced around it enough that night as it was. “The overstimulation part of my quirk makes sex really... hard? I guess.”

You wished there wasn’t so much damn internalized shame shoved into your brain about this particular facet of your quirk. You didn’t give Keigo much of a chance to respond, good or bad. 

“Like, I can, don’t get me wrong, it just gets to be too much really easily, and like, I just need a bit more time—?”

 Nervousness ticked and writhed in your voice as you scrunched the duvet in your hands.

“Hey, (Y/N), It’s alright, I promise.” Keigo shifted, tugging you down into the sheets, facing him.  “Come down here.”

You lowered yourself cautiously, a mix of expressions crossing your face, all of which felt unfamiliar to Keigo.

As much as he teased and embarrassed you at the teashop, you’d never looked genuinely upset. Even when you were struggling to tell him how you felt, just earlier that night, you’d never looked so...

Uncomfortable? 

Keigo saw the crinkle at the corners of your eyes and the scrunch of your nose and quickly corrected himself: 

Guilt.

“We can go slow, as slow as you need. I mean it.”

You laid facing each other, the duvet settling over the two of you. Carefully, Keigo took your hand by the wrist, laying a soft kiss at the joint.

The guarded look in your eyes wasn’t one Keigo was used to.

“Really? You don’t mind?” Your gaze was trained on the sheets below, picking at a loose thread.

“I really, really don’t mind at all. I want you to be comfortable.” Keigo assured you the best he could, heart aching with your nervous glances. “Slow, remember?”

“Slow.” You repeated, finally giving him a bit of eye contact. “You sure? I don’t want to force you to curb your hero’s libido because of my quirk’s bodily side effects.”

“Okay, one,” Keigo huffed, tugging you chest to chest and peppering your face with the kisses he’d always wanted to. “How often do you think I bang?”

You snorted and relaxed visibly, “I mean, I’ve seen the tabloids, so I’m assuming all the time. Like, rabbit-level.”

“God, no, please don’t believe that shit,” Keigo groaned as he threw an arm over your waist. “I am bird-adjacent, as you say, not bunny-adjacent. Then you’re talking about Mirko—”

“Keigo,” You stopped him with a finger on his lips. “I’m not sure if I can handle the details of any of the top-ten’s sex lives, sans yours. Which hopefully includes me.” 

He spoke besides, “You’re telling me you don’t want to know about Wash’s—”

“Keigo—”

“I’m just saying, I have pictures—”

You silenced him, thank god, with a firm kiss you dragged him into by the collar. You made a point to hold him in place even as his wings twitched, nipping at his bottom lip. He licked into your mouth, pulling you forward by your hips. 

You decided to make it a habit to kiss Keigo breathless more often.

...

Keigo traced nonsense shapes and phrases on your sides, you sucking a few bruises well below his collar.

(You both opted that, sex or otherwise, Keigo wearing a shirt was... unnecessary.)

You settled under the covers spooning, your back against his bare chest. 

After everything that had happened that night, all of it, you were exhausted. 

“I have patrol pretty early tomorrow,” Keigo pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I’ll let you sleep when I leave, okay?” 

“No, I’ll get up a little too,” You could hear the slur of sleep in your words. “I’ve got a shitty little espresso machine. I’ll make you a drink, to go.”

“You sure? You need all the rest you can get with that leg of yours healing,” Keigo tapped your booted calf with his foot.

“Of course, Kei’,” You can feel sleep tugging you down, Keigo’s heat lulling you. “I miss making you drinks.”

 You didn’t see it— you were already half-asleep by the end of your sentence. But, Keigo hid his biggest smile in your shoulder, wings fluttering in time with the butterflies in his tummy. 

It felt good to sleep next to someone else, especially when it was someone you loved. 

 —

 But, all good things must come to an end, or at least to a momentary pause. 

Keigo was out the door as dawn rose, kissing you hard and long with a travel mug of a coffee in his hand. 

“I threw together what I could, making one of those warm feelings drinks,” You’d said as you pressed the hot tumbler into his hands. “It’s cinnamon, caramel cappuccino, pretty simple compared to what I’d normally make you.”

It didn’t matter, truthfully, you making it meant the world.

Keigo flew from your balcony, flying high physically and mentally. He took the time to stop at home and change into his hero costume. 

It gave him ample time to mull over everything. 

Despite the months of (mutual) pining, a lot had happened in such a short amount of time. 

He was happy, overjoyed, that things were finally out in the open. Getting to be near you and feel you was a luxury he was ecstatic to be able to indulge in. His heart would leap and jump against his sternum if he thought about it too hard or for too long.

That wasn’t to say that there weren’t to be challenges or complications. 

There were, of course, many details that would have to be sorted and straightened.

Hawks was a hero after all.

 His patrol was fairly calm, sunrise didn’t tend to be a time of high crime. 

Though, his sharpened eyes caught the telltale plumes of smoke on the other side of the city not long after he’d launched from his apartment. 

He flew as fast as he could, dodging between buildings and sending his fast feathers in front of him. The closer he got, the more the smell of smoke stung his sinuses. 

When he arrived at the scene, he dove into action.

An apartment burning was burning, nothing new or surprising.

Except, this was a well-groomed highrise, a nicer building in a very nice part of town. 

 It took Keigo a moment or two to realize that he’d seen the building before. He recognized it from the brochures and pamphlets he was occasionally given at heroes sponsorship events. He’d gotten plenty of papers and pitches for buildings like it too. 

...

Jets of orange flames burst through the windows, shattering them down its many stories. The blaze was thick and hot, searing Keigo as he flew around the building.

For this reason, there wasn’t a ton he could do to help, not with how flame and fire. The feathers he managed to send in burned up after only a minute or two. Even if he dulled their sensitivity, the feeling of flame licking the sensitive plumes made him want to shudder and writhe. 

He eventually opted to just help with rescue operations on the ground. He felt somewhat more adept at doing so, following what had happened in the shopping district the tea shop was in. His feathers were far more useful running supplies from place to place than trying to outpace flames. 

There were plenty of heroes around. 

Plenty were local, lesser-known pros. He recognized a few from the charts, top thirties maybe. They were mostly in plainclothes, no costumes or regalia. Some still wore house slippers.

And very few of them appeared to be alone. 

Usually, they stood with at least one other person, maybe a child or two. 

It dawned on Keigo once he saw Edgeshot appear from the rubble, helping a young man walk with a hand around his waist. As Edgeshot walked past Keigo, regarding him with a firm but curt nod, he noticed their twin wedding bands glinting against the mixing light of flames and the early morning. 

Oh.

 Keigo took in the remnants of the burned-out building, recalling its splendor from the ads he had been sent so many times and dismissed.

It was Hero Affiliate housing. 

He’d been given the spiel so many times as a young bachelor, that’d he’d tuned them out long ago. 

It was a trend that had caught on a few years prior, specific luxury buildings made for the family and partners of heroes. Better security, better resistance to disaster and villain attacks(sure), and a community of people who all dealt with the same struggles of being closely attached to a hero.

They were supposed to be safer.

Yet, he was staring at the corpse of the building, burned out and soggy. Around him were soot-covered civilians that should have never been in harm's way. That’s what complexes like this were built for. That was the intent, anyway. 

Yet, there stood reality.

Keigo’s kept the calm, laid-back smile on his face, his veneer up and solid as limestone, unfractured like it too. 

As Keigo aided where he could, his mind was elsewhere.

It was on you, undoubtedly curled up and asleep, safe.

But, could he keep you that way? 

...

He’d have to. 

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ko-fi

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taglist: 

@thepandapopo​ @hawksexual​ @sinclairsamess​ @darcia22​ @inhalingsoysauce​ @yee-fxcking-haw​ @aproperthottie​ @seasalttrioforever​ @msgrungie @mia—merc @a-monster-love @call-me-rhee @peach-buns-unicorns @amethyst-rose-17 @mega-bastard @an-untamed-rose @ravioliplease 

[queenxxxsupreme]

Soft Syverson Drabble

A/N: I couldn’t even think of a good title for this. But this came from a little convo with @raspberrydreamclouds earlier this morning. Thank you bb <3 Here is where to go if you’d like to be added to my taglists. Here is my masterlist.

Warnings: just fluffy Sy

You stood in the kitchen, eyes focused out of the window and hands wrapped tightly around a mug of hot tea. You weren’t too sure what you were staring at. Your eyes were on a pretty magnolia bush in the backyard. But your mind was empty. 

On the counter beside your tea rested a piece of notepaper containing a list of things you needed to do, things you meant to do throughout the day. Clean the bathroom. Finish the laundry. Clean out your car. Clean the bedding. The list went on. It wasn’t long at all, but for some reason it seemed unrealistic to be able to do all of those in one day. Today was one of those days where you just couldn’t find the strength to do much. 

You blinked when you heard a vehicle door shut. You brought your eyes down to your tea. That’s when you saw the list. Your eyes darted over to the clock above the stove. It was just after eight, which meant that Sy was home. 

You cursed under your breath and looked around the kitchen. You were supposed to have dinner made for him by the time he was done watching the game with his buddies. You were supposed to have the house cleaned and everything on that list completed. You didn’t even get one thing on that list done.

The front door opened and your heart began to race on your chest. Your breath caught in your throat. Your stomach twisted up into knots. 

You were frozen in place as you listened to him walk into the house. His boots were heavy against the floor, echoing through the silence of the house. 

“Hey, angel?” He called out. You couldn’t answer him. 

Tears blurred your vision and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. When you put your hand down, your husband stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His brows were drawn together. 

“You okay, angel?” His thick southern drawl made your heart flutter. 

You opened your mouth to answer him but instead you choked on your words.

“I-I’m sorry, Logan. I’m-I’m so sorry.”

“For what, angel?” His voice was quiet. 

You shook your head, pointing to the piece of paper on the counter. 

His blue eyes flickered to the list. Curious and concerned, he moved to see what was on it. He picked the paper up to read over it. 

You looked down, locking your jaw tightly as you fought back the tears. 

“Oh, angel. This ain’t nothin’ to be cryin’ over.” 

“But I was supposed to make you dinner.” You whimpered, head falling forward so you chin met your chest. 

Syverson moved to stand closer to you, his massive boots making your bare feet look so small. He hooked two large fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head up so you looked up at him. Using the rough pads of his fingertips, he brushed the tears from your cheeks. 

“You aren’t obligated to make me anythin, angel.” He assured you, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead.

“But I-I said I would.” You sniffled. “This morning….” You trailed off as he looked down at you. His gaze was gentle and tender. You knew he wasn’t angry and you knew he wouldn’t be that way when he got home, but you were upset with yourself. 

“How was your day?” He slipped his hands around your hips and effortlessly picked you up. You were placed onto the counter and Syverson slipped between your knees. 

He began to tuck pieces of your hair behind your ears as you spoke.

“I-I didn’t even do anything, Logan. That’s why I’m upset. I should’ve had dinner made for you. I watched a few episodes of that stupid show my sister got me watching and then I ended up taking a rather long nap.”

“Sounds like you had a nice time.” He leaned in to bury his face in the side of your neck. His beard was scratchy as he moved his head from side to side. 

“But I didn’t- Logan, stop!” You couldn’t help but giggle a little. “I didn’t get anything done.”

“S’okay, angel.” He assured you, though his voice was muffled against your neck.

His forearms rested alongside the outside of your thighs and his hands hooked around your backside.

“How about you order some takeout and I go put on a movie upstairs?” He pulled his head up from your neck. 

“You aren’t even a little upset that the house is a mess?” You asked him, your bottom lip quivering a little dramatically. 

“I’m upset that you think I would be.” He leaned in to kiss your lips. “We’ll go get ice cream from the store while we wait for the takeout. How does that sound?”

You nodded, smiling softly. 

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Love you, angel.” He kissed between your brows.

Taglist: @whitewolfandthefox @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @wolfyland07 @persephonehemingway @raspberrydreamclouds @onlyhenrys @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @scarlettwitcher @runawayolives @summersong69 @omgkatinka @crazybutconfidentaf @hell1129-blog @harrysthiccthighss @maan24 @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @henrythickcavill

[kalaluchi]

chapter 02: Rebellion

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Alya was going to lose her mind at any second. How did she become best friends with someone so damn stubborn?

“Girl, I’m telling you, there is no way that boy does not have a crush on you. It’s so obvious, please!”

“Alya. One: I think you are crazy. Two: he’s just friendly. Ok?”

It had been a little over a month since Adrien Agreste had joined their class, and yet he seemed to be getting along well with everybody. For Marinette, it had been hate at first sight and then love at second sight.

In her defense, she never intended to fall for him. Not when he was the best friend of her archnemesis-for-who-knows-how-long. Definitely not when he’d put gum on her seat on the first day of class, when he didn’t even know her. So, it made absolute sense for her to snob him back… except.

Except she’d been completely wrong.

It had all been a mix up… and as he’d smiled kindly at her, and she’d stared, really stared, into his eyes for the first time since meeting him… she’d realized she really wouldn’t mind getting lost in them and the way the fading sun turned them the most perfect shade of green.

That was when she’d realized she was in trouble. That was when she’d realized that despite her initial, intense hate for the green-eyed blond-haired boy, she’d fallen quite hard for Adrien Agreste at second glance… even though he was the best friend of her archnemesis-for-who-knows-how-long.

She continued to fall even further when she saw how cute he really was, how kind he was to everyone, how comfortable in his own skin he seemed, how he laughed softly at most anything, and a million other “how's” known only to her heart.

And then they’d started talking.

Of course, she’d always wanted to approach him, but never found the courage to, which was why she resorted to roundabout ways to catch his attention most of the time.

There was that one time she’d learned he loved macarons, so she’d stayed up nearly the whole night just perfecting a batch to bring to school. Then she’d spent the whole day loudly talking about them, waving them around anytime she thought he was looking -- in hopes he’d ask her for one, and they could strike up a convo. But to no avail.

And the time she’d heard that he loved cats, so she’d read about all the different breeds and their origins, even writing notes to remember the important parts. But she’d ended up forgetting to bring the notebook and getting a mind block in school, so that when he asked what her favorite breed of cat was, she’d replied, “Orange.” (She’d wanted to bury herself in a hole for days after that.)

And too many other instances, way more than she could count on her fingers.

Alya had quickly caught on to what her best friend was up to, and was highly against the plan. “Girl, just woman up and go talk to him yourself!” she’d said. “Adrien Agreste is literally the nicest boy I’ve met, and he won’t judge you or anything if you randomly talk to him! And anyway, if he does do that, then he’s not crush-worthy, okay?”

Marinette had seen the sense in her best friend’s statement, but knowing you have to do something and being able to actually do it are two different things. Because Marinette was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, not Alya Césaire, and as much as she’d wanted to talk to him, she just couldn’t bring herself to because she’d been scared, too scared of what he might say.

To her surprise, though, he’d actually reached out to her one day. And the conversation hadn’t stopped, like she’d feared it would. It had gone on for hours which turned into days, and it had felt good, felt right. And for a second, she could almost, almost believe that he could like her, too, despite their awkward beginning. But then she’d stumble over her words, and the fantasy would fade. Because how could he possibly fall for her when he was the most amazing person she’d ever met and she was just Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and there were so many other, better, more interesting people in her school -- in all of Paris for that matter-- that he could fall for? So there was absolutely no way he could like her back, could see her as anything more than a friend.

Right?

Marinette shook her head, clearing it of thoughts. Of course she was right. What could Alya possibly know anyway?

Alya gave Marinette the deadest stare she could muster. “Friendly,” she echoed monotonously. “You know what? I am officially appointing myself as your fairy godmother. And as your fairy godmother it is my duty to prove that Adrien Agreste has a crush on you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette sighed at her best friend’s antics. “Well, I won’t stop you, but I do still stand by my original statement.”

Alya pursed her lips. “Okay, how ‘bout this: if it turns out I am right, which I am, and Adrien Agreste does have a crush on you, you owe me an entire box of macarons.”

Marinette shrugged. “Fine with me. You do know this is a win-win for me right? If you’re right, it’s a win that my crush likes me back. If I’m right, it’s a win because I don’t have to bake a dozen macarons.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I just want you to be happyyyy~!” Alya singsonged. “So, leave it to me. I gotchu.”

Marinette laughed and rolled her eyes playfully at the wink her best friend gave her. “Okay, then. Work your magic, please.”

“Alya Césaire, Fairy Godmother, at your service!”

.

.

.

The first time Alya had to work her fairy godmother magic, she had to admit it wasn’t the best attempt. But she was still determined to give it her all, and prove her point, no matter what. Her pride as a credible writer depended on it.

(Or so she liked to defend to herself.)

Hence her half-brilliant idea to dress Marinette up for school one day.

There was nothing wrong with her best friend’s style, of course. It was just that it was so… Marinette. Soft and cute, but always hiding her full potential. She just needed a little shaking up, a change in routine, just once.

So there was Marinette, with her hair styled, and dressed in all the clothes she’d been hiding at the back of her closet that Alya had always insisted would suit her. (And they did. Splendidly.)

Alya liked to refer to her plan as half-brilliant -- brilliant because Adrien reacted the exact way she’d hoped, but not brilliant because Marinette reacted the exact way Alya had hoped she wouldn’t.

The moment Marinette walked in the door, Alya noticed Adrien’s head whip around so fast she was afraid he’d gotten whiplash. He grinned shyly as Marinette passed by.

“Morning, Marinette. I haven’t seen you wear that before,” he chuckled lightly, though a faint blush spread across his cheeks. “It really suits you, though. You look very pretty.”

Marinette blinked at that, a little offended at the wording. “Uh. Thanks, I guess?”

Adrien cleared his throat as Marinette started up the stairs to her seat. “Uh, no, I meant, prettier than usual, of course. You’re already naturally pretty, you see.”

Of course, Marinette chose that exact moment to turn beet red and walk into the edge of her desk. “You too,” she wheezed out, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

“I-- sorry? A-are you okay?” Adrien asked, bewildered.

“I said, thank you. And, yes, I’m fine.” Marinette forced a grin as she slid into her seat.

“Well,” Alya said as soon as Adrien sat back down, “what did I tell you? He thinks you’re pretty. He just needed a little push to come out and say it. Boy def has a crush on you.”

“Alya,” Marinette chided, though she was trying to hide how happy the compliment had made her, “what did we say about jumping to conclusions, especially when there’s no diamond solid proof?”

“Don’t,” Alya replied with a sigh.

.

.

.

The second time around, Alya was surprised she didn’t even have to do any work to find something to pick on -- Marinette practically handed her the proof on a silver platter.

It was not unusual for Marinette to come to school late, or with eyebags under her eyes, as Alya knew her best friend had a habit of staying up late the night before and oversleeping. (Seriously, though, with the amount of times this had happened in the past, did the girl have a secret double life or something? It’s not like the school gave enough assignments to lose that much sleep over. Alya was always telling Marinette she really needed to sleep earlier...)

But this time, something seemed different.

Maybe it was the way Marinette was typing furiously on her phone under the table, trying hard not to smile.

Or the way Adrien, with similar eyebags, was doing the same thing.

It could just be a coincidence, though. Alya had to remind herself to take it slow, not jump to conclusions. But still, her best-friend-senses were telling her something was up.

She was just about to bring it up when Marinette turned to her excitedly. “Look at this picture Adrien sent me of his cat. Isn’t he cute? That fluffy black fur and those green eyes, Alya, loooook!”

Alya raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. “Wow, you guys chat now? That’s new.”

Marinette bit her lip. “Yeah, but it’s just your usual sending-memes and random-small-talk-about-your-life and i'm-drowning-in-acads-you-too? 4am kind of talks. It’s not the soft here’s-what-i-like-about-you 4am kind of talks, sadly,” she sighed, tapping her phone on her thigh.

“Wait. 4am?”

Marinette smiled sheepishly, and Alya knew her hunch had been correct. “Yeah. I don’t intend for it, obviously, but the past week it’s been like, we start talking, and next thing I know it’s 4am and I’m absolutely doomed because I haven’t started the assignment for Mme. Bustier’s class due at 8:30am.”

Alya laughed. “Okay, Marinette, there is something wrong with that last part, I’ll admit. But nevertheless, I’m so proud of you for holding a convo with the boy of your dreams for that long. And to think that he stays up the same? Damn. I really didn’t peg Adrien as the type to pull all-nighters. I guess there’s only one conclusion…” She trailed off dramatically, grinning at her best friend.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I’m gonna reply-- it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just two people, talking, getting to know each other.”

“He stayed up. Till 4am. To talk to you.”

“Well… yeah.”

“The past week. An entire week.”

“... yeah.”

“Just for you.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe he was cramming homework,” Marinette argued.

“Girl,” Alya rebutted, “this is Adrien Agreste we’re talking about. When does he ever cram?”

Marinette shrugged. “This past week?”

“Girl, you’re hopeless. You’re lucky I love you. Go back to chatting your dream boy. But please start sleeping earlier.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

.

.

.

The third time was such a dead giveaway Alya felt like she’d been smacked in the head with a huge bag of “HELLO I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU,” and she could not for the life of her understand why her best friend could not see the truth shaking its butt in their faces.

It happened one morning, when Marinette walked into the classroom wearing the cutest cardigan Alya had ever seen.

“Girl!” she exclaimed once the blue-haired girl was seated. “I love what you’re wearing, it looks so good on you! How come I’ve never seen it before?” The brunette flipped her hair over her shoulder and huffed. “As your best friend, I’m offended you never told me this heavenly piece of clothing existed. I’d have made you wear it every single day if only I knew.”

Marinette bit back a smile. “I know, it’s kinda super cute, right? It’s super comfy, too. Adrien made it for me,” she added shyly.

Alya waggled her eyebrows. “Mm, you mean he had it made for you, right? Must be nice to come from an ultra-known ultra-rich family or something.”

“No, I mean, like, he made it for me… as in he made it himself…”

“Wait, what. One: why. Two: how do you know he made it himself? I mean, girl, no offense to your boy of course. But that’s some high effort shiz to do for someone who is just ‘a friend’” Alya pointed out, using air quotes.

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, one: I know he made it himself because he sent Nino videos of his progress as he was making it, which Nino eventually forwarded to me once I’d gotten the gift--”

(“Nino, that little brat, how dare he not tell me something as important as this,” Alya growled, glaring daggers across the room at her boyfriend.)

“--and two: are you really still doing that? I don't like how you used air quotes because I have absolutely no idea what you mean by them.” Marinette crossed her arms, in denial. “I mean, obviously, yes, Adrien and I are friends and we are doing things friends do, yes that is normal even though he is literally the cutest human being I have ever met but it’s obvious he’ll never feel the same way, so--”

“Marinette, there are heart patterns on the pockets,” Alya deadpanned.

“There are?!” Marinette excitedly began pulling up the cardigan to check. Then she seemed to remember her stand on the matter, and wiped the smile off her face, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her clothes. “And if there were, it does not matter, because it obviously does not mean anything. It’s just a cardigan, I think you’re overthinking things,” she said nonchalantly, though her voice was an octave higher than normal.

Alya laughed aloud. “Just a cardigan, Marinette?! He crocheted you a whole freaking cardigan for your birthday! You love cardigans, it’s the most Marinette gift one could give you. Plus,” she continued, holding up a finger when it looked like Marinette was about to protest, “do you know how many days it would’ve taken to make that? And there’s the fact that you guys literally just started talking this month. Come on, you have to admit that means he likes you! Or maybe is just a little interested? Huh, how about it?” Alya nudged her friend, trying to knock some common sense into her.

For a second, it seemed to work. Marinette bit back a smile, took a deep breath, and-- “Maybe he’s just super super super friendly?”

Alya blinked once, twice. “Yeah, ok, I give up. Keep your macarons.”

previous | next

[btswishes]

She what?

Jungkook x reader

Part1 / ...

A/N: Kookie needs more stories added to his masterlist section, so I am bringing you guys this. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you like it.

Word count:  2,906

Warnings: Swearing.

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

  “Y/N! Get up it’s time for school!” your mom’s voice echoed in the house so loudly ,that even the people waiting for you outside heard her. 

“I am up!” you mirrored her energy, while running around your room “Ok ok, books, pens, ummm AH! Homework!” you were wearing only one sock on your left leg and over all looked like a mess “I swear I won’t stay up today till 3am, it really fucks me up hard!”  

“Y/N!” your mom yelled out again 

“I KNOW! FUCK!” 

“WHAT DID YOU SAY!”

“NOTHING!” throwing the bag on your back, you took a quick glance in the mirror. Fixing up the things that weren’t in order ,you looked presentable enough for school. This wasn’t a fashion show after all.

  Your footsteps filled up the house when you said goodbye to your mom and dashed outside. Leaning onto your knees you took deep and sharp breaths, trying to calm down your fight or flight reaction to oversleeping.

“Look who it is.” moving up, your eyes focused onto that familiar beanie, trying to keep in check all those dark and wild curls. 

“Whip that look off your face Kook.” Yoongi murmured under his nose “We had to drag your ass out of bed. You ain’t any better than her.” Jungkook reached and pulled you up by your hand 

“Don’t look down with this pretty face kitten.” he was smug, knowing oh so well that he was good at flirting.

“Calm yourself hot stuff. Cats also have claws.” you pulled back with a playful wink his way, which pulled out a scoff out of him. With a jump in your step you grabbed Yoongi’s arm and started pulling everyone to school. 

  A quick stop at your friend Mina’s house and you were on your way again to the 4 wall jail. 

“I see Yoongi is lookin disgusted.” she needed only one glance at him to know what happened “Let me guess, Y/N and Jungkook are being flirty earlier than usual.” Mina sighed proceeding to ask the obvious question “Yall seem to like each other, why not just, um i don’t know. Date!”

“Mina, you are misunderstanding.” Jungkook patted her shoulder 

“Me and Jungkook are just friends. He is just shitty and stuck up, thinking he is so good at flirting. I am just showing him that those skills are mad trash and won’t work on me.” you turned to look at him “Even if he chocked me!”

“Damn, you don’t have to say your kinks out loud like that sweetie.” Jungkook ran his hand gently through your hair, leaving the sensation of a light tugging  “Leave that for when we are alone.” 

“EW! I can’t with you two!” Jimin rustled his hair, shaking his head aggressively 

“ Ok ok, let’s change the subject.”Namjoon stop the conversation from drifting into a huge mess “Can we stop for a sec? I need to go buy pens.” there was a small store next to the school. Size aside, they were always stocked up with good materials since all the students visited frequently. 

  While Namjoon was buying writing supplies, Jin pulled you to the side with an alibi of fix your hair.

“Ok what is up with you and Kook lately?” he kept pulling out small clips and all kinds of things, from last night’s 3am glow up attempt 

“What do you mean?” 

“Lately all this flirting has been a bit...” 

“Too direct?” you tried to help Jin out

“Personal.” his voice was serious, the word cutting almost through the air around you “ Are we going to act like Jungkook didn’t bring kinks in a public convo?”

“He is just being the same dork as always.” you laughed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest

“I am not worried about what people are going to think of him for saying stuff like that out loud, he can deal with that himself. I am worried about miss tough bruh girl.” Jin’s lips pressed together as he looked at you. The confidence and macho behavior disappeared from your body “Are you really ok?” he turned around to make sure no one was around you two

“...honestly?” you asked him, receiving a nod “I am dyingggg Jin!”you folded like a piece of paper as the words came out “I know he is just flirting with me to prove his point, but it’s so hard to act unfazed by it. “

“Of course it is. You are head over heels for him.” Jin bluntly spoke when you hushed him, checking around yourself again

“Look. It was fine till a week ago. He became...touchy.” 

“Touchy how?” you were trying to avoid Jin’s gaze, while blushing “He um...he has been brushing his hand over me and then saying it was by mistake. He bumped into me a few days ago and got so close he almost kissed me!” your voice was a forced whisper ,as your hyper nature pushed it out from your throat like a whistle 

“He what!?” Jin gasped upon hearing all that “Shy Kook did that?” you nodded “He is a flirt, agreed. But he NEVER did anything remotely close to this. Are we 100% sure he doesn’t like you?”

“I am positive Jin. He is doing this to prove his point that any girl falls for him if he gets serious about it. Jungkook is trying to prove me wrong.”

“That is not like him t-” Namjoon’s voice pulled everyone’s attention to himself, exiting the store with a bunch of pens in hand. 

“You have like a billion of them.”  said Jin

“Yeah, but these are comfortable for exams.” Namjoon was placing them in his school bag, when Hoseok gasped 

“Wait, what do you mean for exams?” 

“We have 4 exams today.” noticing the confused faces around, Joon facepalmed himself “Yall didn’t really think they were letting us leave 3h earlier just like that, right?” the group synchronized nod was so shocking, that you could hear even Namjoon’s brain facepalm itself “I don’t know what you guys will do, just don’t fail at least.”

“Oh, I knew about the exams.” you rose your hand between the bunch of panicking creatures “Surprisingly my mom found out and made me study my ass off. I am confidant this time.” you took a few steps and stood next to Namjoon “For once i am on team Joon and honestly, I can’t lie, it feels amazing.”

“So what you are saying is that you are actually prepared for all 4 exams!?” Taehyung had to do a double check just in case he heard wrong

“Yup.”

“Better sit next to me before someone asks to cheat off you.”Namjoon said making you giggle. Your head swung in the opposite direction as you felt a strong hand grab the back of your head. Not even in a moment’s notice you came inches from Jungkook. His eyes, sharp and dark, eyeing up and down slowly.

“So this pretty head of yours got the answers?” you couldn’t move, frozen from the shock “Mind if I use some of that knowledge?”

“I- what?” you stuttered in panic.

“Jungkook you better stop acting like a kid and study!” Jin tried to be a hero and pull you by the hand, out of his grasp. Yet Kookie with an aggressive look directed towards his hyung, grabbed his wrist and curved his arm up. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” the air was tense, you could hear the silence no matter how weird that sounded. His free hand proceeded to pull you flush against himself, holding you by your waist. His hot touch felt even under the layers of clothes “I can use whatever is mine. Isn’t that right kitty cat?” 

“Jungkook don’t be a brat!” Hoseok tried to calm the atmosphere, but was met with the same energy as Jin, when he grabbed your hand. A loud smack pushed him away as Jungkook lifted you of the ground like it was nothing , throwing your body over his shoulder. His serious face changed to a childish smile when he yelled out “MINE!” and dashed towards the school building, only letting you go once you were inside and behind a wall. He was peeking to see if the others were catching up, excited from the whole situation. 

  His breath was deep and the giggling was coming out of his mouth none stop.

“Did you see the look on their face?” Jungkook turned to you, but you were still frozen from what just happened “Hey, you good?” he lowered himself to your eye level but you averted your gaze, grabbed your bag and dashed to your classroom.

“Y/N...?”

  With all the power in your legs you got to your now safe space. The desk felt secure for the first time. As you were catching your breath, Mina caught up to you. 

“What the fuck was that!” she threw her bag on the chair next to you, bashing her palms into the wooden board of your table “It was new!”

“Drop it Mina.” you didn’t want to look at her right now, but she was a persistent one 

“Nah nah, I am not doing this again. You HAVE to tell me, this isn’t formal.”   

“At this point we both need an explanation.” Jin seemed to have calmed down a bit and took a third chair, cornering you with Mina “Come on, you can trust us.” 

  A moment later you sighed deeply and looked them in the eyes. It was time to get things off your chest. “Kook is going overboard.”

“Yeah, we all saw that.”Mina drew a circle parallel to the floor, in the air “ He has been openly umm nasty.”

“Not to mention weirdly touchy.” Jin nodded as he spoke up “ He might find it fun trying to prove his stupid point, but in the end of the day you like him. It’s effecting you in more than one way.”

“ Jin is right. Acting tough like it doesn’t effect you can’t and won’t last long. What will you do when he gets a gf and stops acting like this towards you?” 

“Yes. You like it, of course but that would just crash you princess. I think you should try to move on or at least find someone else to crush over. Sounds hard but...yeah.”

“I know I know.” you grunted placing your face into your hands “It’s a mess, I shouldn’t have challenged him at all. This wouldn’t have happened at all.” 

  You were frustrated, it felt like a huge mess you made and now had to clean up on your own with only a rag and water. For a moment you forgot about the issue because of the exams. Namjoon and you were confident but not the rest of the gang, luckily Jungkook had one class with you. You were able to avoid him easily with all the running around and revising. 

  After all the stress was done, you decided to have some lunch with Jin and Mina after everyone else went home for the week. There was a moment of silence.

“Someone gonna say something?” Mina looked at you two stuffing your faces, avoiding the matter at hand “I thought we staid to talk this out.”

“You are right.” Jin sighed placing his box on top of his backpack “ The more we try to ignore it the worse it will get. I know you are frustrated Y/N but we need to do something.”

“Maybe I should really pull back and try to move on like you two said.” the floor was locking your attention in one place. 

“Or you don’t except defeat and step on his toes for once in your life.” for a three party conversation you weren’t expecting a fourth person. For a second your heart dropped till you located Taehyung

“Tae!” your body rose from the desk “Please don’t t-” he placed his hand over your mouth. The index finger of his free hand stood in front of his lips as he winked your way.  Jumping onto your desk he sat down, crossing his legs widely with his hands now in his pockets

“Relaxxx~, I am not a snitch, plus this smells to me like I can mess a bit with that little brat. His high horse has been fucking annoying all of us, well maybe expect Joon.” 

“Your plan is so bad!” Jin rolled his eyes 

“Well from what I saw so far all she did was bark back. Come on, don’t you guys see?” he flicked your forehead and leaned back after your ‘ouch’ “ She is all bark no bite. Jungkook sees her as a toy or a little puppy, nothing more. He knows he will break her down at some point.” Tae focused onto you again “Y/N you really need to grab that boy by the hair and show him that you aren’t one to be messed with.”

“On a serious note, I am on Taehyung’s side. Backing up is what he wants you to do. “ Mina clapped her hands excited about the whole plan 

“How do I even do that?” you began to panic inside again 

“First of all that attitude. Confidence is key.” Jin grabbed your shoulder “ You dress timid, I know this will sound like one of those early 2000s movies with the makeovers.” 

“But it is.” you didn’t even need to look up, you just knew. That soft yet manly voice  “What?” Jimin leaned onto Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked at you “You didn’t think I wouldn’t sniff this whole thing up, did you?”

“Guess Jimin is up for the part.”Tae fist bumped him “I got the plan already in my head.” he pulled out his phone making a small group chat with all of you in it

“We got this man!” Jimin and Tae were apparently too into the whole situation, while you were almost dripping in cold sweat 

“Ok ok.”your hands rose up “Let’s say I agree to all this. What do you want me to do?”

“Man the fuck up!” Jimin hit the table in front of you “ Pull that kid’s leash for once, he thinks he is all strong and stuff. I am so done with him and his disgusting flirting skills lately.I can’t even go to the gym without thinking about him...ugh” a shiver went through his body

“Try to be dominat for once princess.” Jin was being gentle in attempts to calm you down 

 * knock knock *

   The wood sounds creeped into your ears and your heart dropped, when you saw him. Jungkook in all his cocky glory. You panicked and grabbed your bag, trying to get past him in the most natural way possible, but his arm hit the door frame and you were staring at his veiny hand.

“Wow, where do you think you are going?” he sounded more serious than usual  “You have been ignoring me all day and then I catch all you guys having a fun looking meeting without me.” 

“I am not ignoring you, I just don’t feel that well.” you mumbled under your nose just hoping he would turn back into his old self for a moment and let you go. The day was long, filled with all kinds of emotions you weren’t ready for. You didn’t want him to be one of them. The feelings inside you were starting to bubble, there was no more space to keep them. 

“Aw.” Jungkook lifted your chin up with his finger “ I can be your medicine if you want something sweet on your tongue, baby girl.”

“Jungkook!” Jimin threw the chair back, about to start something when Taehyung grabbed his shirt stopping him “...wait...”

“Wasup hyung, why so aggressive ?” the boy leaned onto the door looking high and mighty. Your hand slowly creeped up onto Jungkook’s shoulder. His attention focused onto you once more, when your leg kicked his foot to the side. With a strong grip you pushed onto him, making the boy kneel in front of you. This was the first time he was the one looking up.

  With your free hand you swung your hair back, revealing a pissed off gaze that send a chill down Jungkook’s back, in a way he had never experienced before. 

“Listen here you little shit.” it sounded like a low growl of frustration “I said I don’t feel good, but you insist on being all macho manly and annoying me. Next time.” you squatted down slowly making him follow you as you came down to eye level “ When I say move, you will be a good little boy and what?”

“...move.” the room was shook by the fact he followed your lead calmly . You eyed his lips making him feel something beep inside his chest, as your index and middle finger gently caressed them 

“Louder!” you snapped him out of the trans as you got up suddenly. 

“I will move!” he almost yelled out

“Good.” with the bag swung over your shoulder you walked out of the room with a strong step. The moment you were outside the school, you got back to your senses and the situation sunk in. The dash you did towards your house was Olympic level. You had no idea what happened in the classroom, but you didn’t even want to think about it after what you just did.

[ahkaahshi]

Okay it’s always been these two idk why my heart was wavering 😩 ☾ + 2 mini shot with BOKUROO okay but I feel like kuroo would be the one to suggest it just like one random movie night??? And bokuto is like omg I’m down 🤸‍♂️ honestly you’d be lying if you didn’t already think about it soooo 🤪🤪 light and happy threesome for the soul pls 🥺💕

prompt: ☾ #2 -> threesomes

roomies: bokuto koutarou and kuroo tetsurou

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, threesome, penetrative sex, oral sex

my note to you: the request that started it all 🤸🏼‍♂️💕 I have no issue with admitting that I've thought about this many times before, as I should tbh. it’s a legendary combo 😌 the fact that you paused to think about kita for a moment tho after our convo tho 😂 glad to see your heart didn’t stray lol ty for this audrey ily queen ❤️

a roomie threesome with bokuto and kuroo [mini shot]

A long sigh leaves your mouth as the tall figure of one of your roommates passes in front of the television while he does yet another cartwheel. You’ve lost count of what number that is. “Aren’t you getting tired, yet, Kou?” you growl, (e/c) eyes flicking away from the screen so you can narrow them at him.

He shakes his head, golden gaze aglow with enthusiasm. “Nope!”

“I think (f/n) is, though, and wants you to take a seat,” Kuroo suggests, trying to get your point across for you.

Bokuto seems to get the hint this time, since he trots over to the couch and plops down on the other side of you, sandwiching you between the two of them. When you shoot him a questioning look, as if to ask him why he chose the couch clearly made for two over the armchair beside it, he gives a silent answer by pulling the blanket you and Kuroo are sharing over his lap. “I’m so bored,” he groans, flopping his head back against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, we can’t go anywhere because of all the snow, so we have to stay inside for tonight,” you remind him. A dry chuckle escaping from Kuroo’s mouth brings your attention over to him, and you ask, “What’s so funny?”

He shakes his head and avoids your gaze for a moment, as if contemplating whether he should say what’s really on his mind. “This whole situation is, like, the perfect setup for a threesome.”

You nearly choke on the water you’re taking a sip of before slamming the bottom of the cup down on the coaster and regarding your friend with a wide-eyed gaze. “W-What the hell did you just say?” you rasp, your throat suddenly dry.

“A threesome?!” Bokuto chirps with his normal exuberance, “I’m down!”

When their eager gazes fasten on you, the beating of your heart steadily increases, and the reality of the situation becomes more apparent. “Y-You’re being serious?” you breathe softly, gaze darting back and forth between theirs.

With a casual shrug, Kuroo turns sideways to face you and rests his arm along the top of the couch. “I mean, why not? Of course, if you’re not okay with it, we won’t do anything,” he elaborates. That hazel gaze of his is deceptively sweet as it draws you in closer and closer, making you nothing more than to have it scanning over your naked body instead while praises fall from his lips. It’s almost as if he can tell what’s running through your mind, since his hand moves to cup the side of your face, tracing delicate paths along your skin with each of his fingers.

“I’m okay with it,” you find yourself humming in a nearly inaudible tone.

A small smile spreads across his lips before he gently presses them against your own. The hand that’s not cradling your face moves beneath the blanket to your thigh, where you trap it in amongst your warm skin by pressing your legs together with anticipation. Not wanting to be left out, since Kuroo’s already eliciting gentle moans from you with the sensual way his tongue slides into your mouth while his fingers squeeze your supple skin, Bokuto nips at your neck before snaking his hands around your waist. They tug at the hem of your shirt, and you separate from Kuroo long enough to allow him the opportunity to take it off.

“(F/n),” Bokuto whines needily when your lips return to Kuroo’s once more. Wanting to prevent his emo mode from taking hold of him, you pull away from the man in front of you so you can turn around to face Bokuto when he pulls you into his lap and showers your lips with passionate kisses.

Within a matter of minutes, you’re completely undressed, bare body protected from the coolness in the apartment by the heat emanating from both Kuroo and Bokuto’s shirtless torsos pressed against your back and chest, respectively. Since you’re sitting in Bokuto’s lap, you instinctively push his shorts up his leg so you can rut against his muscular thigh, desperate to feel some relief in your painfully throbbing core. “I’ll take good care of you, okay?” he coos in your ear before pressing a kiss against your cheek. With that said, he pushes his pants down enough for his erection to spring free and grabs your hips to align your entrance with the tip of his dick.

A loud moan escapes your mouth as your jaw slackens at the sensation of his thick cock stretching your walls as he sinks deep into your pussy. Bokuto’s half-lidded eyes are intensely focused on watching you take him in, inch by inch, and Kuroo’s lips trailing open-mouthed kisses from the crook of your neck up to your ear help you relax. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he purrs, fingers dancing along the swell of your breasts, “Think you can take me in your mouth at the same time?”

You nod, eyes opening a tad so you can find his face and crane your neck to meet your lips with his. “Such a good girl,” Bokuto hums with approval once he’s bottomed out. Gently, he switches your position so that your hands and knees are pressed into the cushions of the couch while Kuroo stands up beside it, leaning over the armrest so you can suck him off. As Bokuto begins thrusting into you, unable to start slowly as a result of his enthusiasm, Kuroo tangles his fingers in your (h/l) hair to guide your mouth onto his cock.

As you swirl your tongue around the head before allowing it deeper into your mouth, Kuroo lets out a grunt of pleasure and furrows his dark eyebrows for a moment. Meanwhile, behind you, Bokuto speeds up his pace and uses one hand to keep a firm hold on your hips while the other snakes down your stomach so he can trace tight circles around your clit. His actions make you whimper needily as the heat you feel pooling in your stomach becomes more intense. You’re quickly becoming needier with each second that passes, grinding your hips against him in an attempt to strengthen all the sensations he’s filling you with.

Each moan and mewl that echoes from your throat sends pleasant vibrations coursing through Kuroo’s cock that make it challenging for him to control his pacing. Eventually, the feeling of Bokuto hitting the sweet spot inside of you with his dick while his fingers pleasure your sensitive bud pushes you over the edge, and you’re crying out loudly with ecstasy as your orgasm overcomes all your senses. Your walls fluttering lovingly around Bokuto reap a string of strained curse words from his mouth, and he pulls out of you to release onto your back while thrusting into his hand. Kuroo reaches his limit at the sight of your face in combination with the tingles your lewd sounds are sending up his erection, and it’s not long before you feel his hot seed spill into the back of your throat.

After taking a long swallow, you let your body flop onto the couch while Bokuto grabs tissues to clean off your back and Kuroo slides his pants on before sitting beside you. The two of them pick up your discarded clothes, and Bokuto maneuvers your legs so he can slide your panties back on as Kuroo pulls your shirt back over your head.

“You feeling okay?” your dark haired roommate asks when you slowly sit up.

You nod, though you’re vaguely aware of a dull ache down south. “That was fun,” you comment with a small smile, leaning your head against Bokuto’s shoulder and letting Kuroo place your legs across over his lap so he can massage your aching muscles.

“A lot more fun than doing cartwheels!” Bokuto pipes up, the goofy grin on his lips contagious, since it spreads to both yours and Kuroo’s mouths as well.

With a small chuckle, you mumble, “Oh, Kou…” as he pulls the blanket back over your legs to cover you up and throws his arms around your shoulders to hold you against his chest. It’s not long before you all fall back into a casual conversation while finishing up the movie that you were watching earlier, but, this time, with the three of you sitting in contentment, instead.

⭐︎ fran’s 600 milestone event! (reqs closed, interactions welcome!)

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression - Radio version, Ep 31, April 2016 - New jingle campaign, UFOs, French Comics/Bandes dessinées

Kaoru introduces the show's concept, then Joe. Joe had been just about to take a sip of tea and was caught by surprise at the timing of his introduction, causing Kaoru to laugh.

Kaoru then mentions the big earthquake that had happened the week previous to this recording in Kumamoto prefecture. Because the show is pre-recorded, the last few episodes did not mention the quake, despite being broadcast after it. They were recorded before it occurred. Kaoru is concerned about how the situation will be in Kumamoto by the time this episode is aired. Due to the timing of the recording, he cannot make any specific comments about it, but prays that the lives of the people affected by the quake are returning to some kind of calm. Joe echoes this sentiment.

Next Kaoru brings up the topic of the new jingle campaign for the show. The two entries already submitted have had the 'TFoE' voice track added to them. He plays the first entry complete with voice track. Both he and Joe think it sounds cool. The voice track changes the atmosphere of it, and Kaoru likes it a lot. He then plays the second clip with added voicetrack, and they both really like this too. Joe says by hearing these cool intros, you wouldn't even imagine the show would ever include the likes of Hiranabe and his talk. Kaoru replies, 'yeh, but it still does! 😆'. He says they are still getting new entries sent in, and hopes the clips he has just played make it easier, or increase motivation for listeners to make thier own. Joe even says he wants to try making one, to which Kaoru tells him, 'Please do!'. Joe thinks Kaoru and the staff would make fun of his attempt if he did.

Kaoru then plays another of the new entries which has yet to be showcased. They are both pretty shocked at this one, as it is very different from the previous two. They wonder who this person (who made the entry) actually is. Still, Kaoru thinks the quality of the clip is quite high, but this clip has actually been made with the words 'The Freedom of Expression' already included, which he isn't too sure about. Joe says this section of the clip has a bit of an 80s vibe. Joe also thinks the clip has a slight self-important, smug feel to it. Kaoru thinks this clip is a bit too 'in your face' to be used as the show's jingle.

Next they introduce Tasai for the Tokyo Sports corner. Hiranabe was supposed to be appearing, but he said he had a night job to attend, so he asked Tasai to cover for him. Joe says, because its Golden Week, Hiranabe has probably gone to Atami to get 'revenge' after his poor performance there last time. He lost his erection during sex last time he was there, so he will probably want to try again and last till the end this time (*see episode 29*). Kaoru  suggests that is probably what he's doing as they speak. Joe says picturing that makes him feel gross.

Then then mention that they havn't seen Tasai since the live specials. Tasai was a little shocked to hear they they thought he had gained weight.

Tasai's first news is that Tokyo Sports have recieved an anonymous letter with a tip-off, which they suspect is from Kami. The letter reads, 'Crashed UFO...Aliens caught...in New Mexico, USA'. This reminds Kaoru of when Tasai said he took a photo of a UFO in Mexico, which they talked about in one of the live specials. After checking this out Tasai says that according to Russian sources, a UFO has crashed and an alien been taken alive in New Mexico, USA. The photo with the source shows the typical 'grey alien', which seems suspicious at first. But Tasai repeats that the place of the incident is apparently New Mexico, the Holy Land of UFOs. After checking it out with Tokyo Sports' own UFO expert, he thinks this could be pretty major. The others laugh at how he can be so sure in such a short time. Joe asks what can actually be said if a live alien is caught. Tasai doesn't know, and says further investigation is probably needed. Kami has landed Tokyo Sports in difficulties with this information. 

Tasai's next story is that the Louvre Art Museum will hold an exhibition in Japan to showcase manga. Quite a high value is placed on comics in France, and since the 1960s attitudes have developed to the point that comics are now seen as a high art form. Kaoru says he remembers seeing manga cafes in Paris which stocked French translations of Japanese manga. Tasai continues to say that the exhibition in Japan will feature artists like Araki Hirohiko (creator of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure), and Matsumoto Taiyō (creator of table tennis manga 'Ping Pong'). French artists to be featured include Nicolas de Crécy and Marc-Antoine Mathieu, considered to be comic masters in France. Kaoru says he really wants to see this exhibition, as he loves manga. He hasn't seen the work of the French artists before, but he really loves all the Japanese artists who are to be featured. He mentions that he has long had the impression that Japanese culture has been quite taken up by the French. Joe says he kinda feels sorry that it has taken foreign appraisal of manga to make Japanese people appreciate manga for the great thing it is. He thinks Japanese should naturally have more pride in thier own culture, without needing foreign appraisal to actually see its worth. He mentions the same thing happened with Ukiyo-e in the Edo period. The Japanese renewed interest in the common artform of Ukiyo-e only after it became highly rated overseas. Joe feels a little sad Japan doesn't recognize its own artforms unless they have first been highly rated overseas. People should be proud to call manga a Japanese artform. Kaoru says people are just so used to seeing manga, it is like an everyday thing in Japan.

Tasai says that French comics (known as 'bandes dessinées') differ from Japanese manga in that they are intended to be read more slowly, each page being more like a painting, whereas Japanese manga is read with a faster tempo.

Kami then joins the convo, and apparently confuses the term 'bande dessinée' with the Japaness phrase 'bando de shinee/バンドで死ねぇ(Die in a band!)'. He says he came to protect Kaoru from this threat. After informing him of his misunderstanding, they wonder why Kami didn't appear during the UFO talk earlier. He wasn't listening then apparently. Tasai apologizes to Kaoru for the misunderstanding, Kaoru laughs and tells him not to worry.

To end the episode, Kaoru reveals that the person who sent in the shocking jingle which was played earlier is actually one of Dir's staff members. He is a big fan of radio and asked Kaoru if he could enter. They play the clip one more time, and say it contains a lot of personality.

To finish Kaoru says that a release date for the new single has been decided. Utafumi will be released on the 27th of April, 2016. After plugging his tour and dvd, he says that the show had a fresher feeling today with Tasai joining them. They then have another laugh about the whole bande dessinée/bando de shinee mix up. Kaoru says he learned something.

Songs - Dir en grey/ Kuukoku no kyouon.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Alright, so this is a bit later than I intended, but real life is a pain sometimes. And for those who missed the last post, that’s mostly on me for posting it at midnight, so you might want to go back and check for that - it covers the whole convo between Toshinori and Izuku on the rooftop!

But yeah, this is the final stretch, all the rest of chapter 1, so let’s hop right into it because it’s gonna be a ride.

[No. 1 - Midoriya Izuku: Origin]

Lookit that firebreath (I know it’s not shh). Also, again with the weird lack of crowds / people around in what should have at least a few stragglers. I get that drawing crowds / background masses is annoying, but in a wideview scene like this it’s unnerving. Japan is a high-population-density country, so… uh...

Izuku stares forlornly at his notebook, thinking about all the things people have told him over the past half chapter I mean day about being realistic and thinking seriously about his future. Izuku turns the book so the title faces away from him and starts tearing up, rubbing them away while he chastises himself for crying when he already knew he was being unrealistic, and that his knowing was what had driven him so hard to not see reality.

Overhead sign: 田 (den/ta) 等 (tou) 院 (in) 商店 (shouten) [business] 街 (machi) [boulevard, street]

Store sign: (コ)ネストアー (konesutoaa) [cornerstore]

Well, there’s the crowds, though still not able to account for all that empty street. We also see that Izuku has managed to wander his way to another hero fight despite not even really paying attention, and even though he tells himself he’s going to make himself feel bad for watching, he still heads over to join the crowds. 

He snaps out of his funk when he sees the villain, asking himself how they got away, then realizes he must have made All Might drop it, which means it’s his fault (which kid, honestly, considering he just left those bottles in open flap pockets instead of holding them firmly in his hands, you are not the one to blame.) Also, he utters the ‘this is my fault’ out loud, but the people in front of him obviously don’t hear, distracted as they are with the reason the heroes are just standing around - which is the middle schooler the villain has.

Izuku has a brief flashback to when he was being violated by the villain, and is horrified that someone else is going through the same pain. We get a brief panover of the crowd:

Izuku and Toshinori are like, only fifteen feet apart here, and have the same reaction to the crowd’s commentary. Incredible. We zoom back in to Izuku, who is blaming himself for All Might not being able to do anything. He mentally echoes the same words as the heroes, that someone with the right quirk needs to show up to help catch the guy. He internally tells the captured person to hang in and apologies, saying someone will save him soon.

God I love this spread. This is everything about Izuku right here. You can actually see where Izuku shoved himself through the crowd in order to sprint forward, and you can also see the genuine fear in Katsuki’s eyes in that moment where he and Izuku locked gazes. Also I checked, he sprinted right past three pro heroes, with none of them reacting in time. Incredible.

Toshinori and said heroes all freak out, and Izuku’s panicking right along with them but is still rushing forward despite that. Death Arms and the bird-helmet hero both yell at Izuku to get back, but don’t actually go after him. The sludge villain and Katsuki both react as well, recognizing Izuku.

Izuku’s notebook hits the ground spine first, and we flash over to Izuku wondering what the hell he’s doing. The sludge villain moves to try and hit Izuku when he gets close enough, while Izuku pulls off his backpack and continues to panic-think over what to do… with the book just so happening to open to the page he ends up thinking about, on Kamui Wood’s signature attack from the beginning of the chapter. 

He throws his backpack right at the sludge, all the stuff in it flying out as extra ammunition for the villain’s face to dodge, and while distracted, Izuku ducks underneath the strike and calls for Kacchan. Fortunately, the sludge has been forced to pull away from Katsuki’s mouth, allowing him to take a breath before demanding “You? Why?!” 

Remember this for (checks watch) 284 chapters from now. Also fuck, I just realized, remember this?

'a pro should always be ready to risk his life'

'the reason I smile is to stave off the overwhelming pressure and fear I feel'

'a symbol of peace who saves people with a smile must never be daunted by evil'

Izuku took those words to heart as well, and is already reflecting them only moments after his dreams were crushed. And you can tell in the next panel that Toshinori heard those words and was slammed right to the core because of it, because he knows that kind of drive, that sort of spirit.

We see the villain going back to suffocating Katsuki, while telling Izuku to stop it. Toshinori calls himself pathetic again while powering up, and the villain tells Izuku to stop getting in his way, that it’s only a bit longer, and moves to smash Izuku out of the way. Inside the sludge, we can see Katsuki close to passing out. The other heroes finally dash forward to try to get him out of there in time, only for someone else to latch onto the arms of both kids instead.

That someone, of course, being All Might, still steaming from going into his hero form. He tells Izuku that he (All Might) should ‘practice what he preaches’ and reiterates that a pro should always be ready to risk his life (while blood seeps from his teeth). 

I’m blown away by Horikoshi’s art in this, and this is where he started. God, just thinking of current manga events and the art there… this man needs to be stopped, he’s too powerful, I am going to cry doing comparisons and I don’t even have a clue about any fancy art terminology or the like, all I can do is stand back and be awed.

Izuku has had a rough day.

And here we see the force of the blow, which somehow didn’t blow away the crowds or damage the windows of all the buildings of the surrounding blocks. Jesus fucking christ. And then the remnants of the blow head upward, causing it to start raining because of the rising air current from that one punch. 

How was all that shit not blown away????? A mystery to everyone. Also, Katsuki and Izuku are both passed out on the ground while the crowd and media go fucking wild over what All Might just did. All Might turns to keep an eye on the two while also wobbling slightly, the pressure of holding this form past his limits.

After that, we go back to narration from Izuku, talking and showing the cleanup efforts and the villain in two garbage bags (as he deserves). The heroes chastise Izuku for putting himself in danger (I want to note that this has nothing to do with his quirklessness as far as the scene portrays), while Katsuki gets praised for being tough and having a good quirk, and gets an offer to sidekick. Katsuki isn’t listening or just plain doesn’t care, too busy glaring… or not really? At Izuku.

We get a short scenery panel, I guess to suggest the passage of time, and then we see Izuku putting his backpack back on, thinking moodily about wanting to apologize to All Might but not being able to, so he’s planning on leaving a message on the hero’s website. Katsuki calls Izuku out, and takes a shaky moment before snapping at him, saying he didn’t need Izuku to save him, that he could have handled it himself, that he doesn’t want a quirkless kid’s pity, and that he’s not gonna get won over just with this and to stop mocking him. He then spins on his heels and stomps off with a last ‘stupid nerd’, while Izuku thinks Katuski’s a tough guy. He still agrees with Katsuki, though - he didn’t do anything, he didn’t change anything, but he’s still happy, and now he can focus on a realistic future.

And then All Might zooms into view, scaring the hell out of Izuku. Izuku asks why he’s there when he was surrounded by reporters, and All Might says it wasn’t hard to shake them off, considering who he is- before he hacks up blood and deflates into Toshinori. Toshinori continues on more calmly, saying he’s there to thank Izuku and revise his earlier statement, as well as offer a proposal. 

He starts off on how, without Izuku’s story, he would have been nothing but ‘fake muscles and insincerity’, and thanks Izuku. (Izuku quietly muttering ‘fake muscles?’ here makes me cackle, because honestly, same.) Izuku tries to refute it, saying it was his fault from the beginning, getting in All Might’s way and daring to ask if he could be a hero despite his quirklessness- only for Toshinori to cut in and say that that was exactly it - out of everyone there, it was only the timid, quirkless kid who acted, and in so spurred him to action.

He goes on to talk about how the top heroes show signs of greatness as children, how many of them claim that their bodies moved before they could think. Izuku is shaking and clutching at his heart, hunching over and tearing up as he recalls his mother’s words, her apology to him. Toshinori continues, asking if that was what happened to Izuku, who replies with a yes while crying. He thinks about what he’d wanted his mom to say back then, and so we cut to the end of the chapter:

God, what a fucking great first chapter. I can’t think of another series I’ve read that hooks me in so well right from the start like this. 

Also wait, holy shit, the anime LIED to us.

‘The story of how I became a great hero’, not ‘how I became the greatest hero’. There’s a massive distinction in there between the two, and Izuku’s character leans WAY more towards the manga phrasing over the anime phasing. He’d never consider himself the greatest, those would always go to All Might and likely Katsuki first, and then probably his other classmates and friends as well. He’d be happy to be among the greats, but he’d never consider himself on top of them all. 

...huh, that’s the end, besides the one character panel that I’m gonna throw in a separate post. I fucking love this project so much, and I really wanna see what else the manga has to offer that the anime has lied to me about. This section went by a bit faster than expected, but I suppose that’s what comes from almost all of it being action, so. Thanks for sticking around so far, and let’s see what’s to come in chapter 2 together! :D