#i left you hanging on that bottle game eh? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whohasthecards · 5 months

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Hangman meets this Nick-Goose guy at the bar (not a joke)

Jake rested his chin on his cue stick as he stared curiously at the pair at the bar.

The famous Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and some skinny blonde guy were hanging around. He never knew that the Admiral could smile. Sure, the guy was fair and respected all around the base, but he was stoic. He shrugged and went back to his game.

By the time he sunk the 8-ball in, he looked up and the Admiral was gone. He handed the cue stick to the next guy about to play and went up to the bar, knocking on the counter.

“Ma’am, a cold beer, please,” He said flashing Penny a smile, she rolled his eyes and handed him his drink.

“Stop calling me, ma’am, I’m not your commanding officer, Lieutenant,” Penny grouched before smiling.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Jake said flashing a wink and Penny rolled her eyes in response.

“Damn, Pen, not checking IDs, you’re getting sloppy or soft,” The mystery man said and Jake turned to get a better look at him.

He blinked before realizing that Roo-Roo Bradshaw was somewhere in the Pacific Ocean and a good 30 years younger than the man.

“Shut up, Nick, he’s a grown aviator,” Penny sniped back, hitting the man with a towel as he batted it away.

“Damn straight,” Jake said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Ahhh, so you are getting soft, you’ve always been soft around aviators,” Nick said, giving Jake a wink.

Penny blushed and gave Nick another hit with a towel before another customer called her away.

“Piss her off enough and you’ll get thrown overboard, even if I gotta do it alone,” Hangman said, flashing Nick a sharp grin.

Nick gave a low whistle, “Damn, son, no wonder she’s soft on ya, you probably remind her of me and the boys back in the day.”

Jake frowned at that.

“Nevermind that, I’m Nick or Goose, choose what you want,” Nick, Goose, said, reaching out his hand to shake.

“Jake,” He replied, shaking his hand, looking the guy up and down, seeing the grey on his temples. “You used to be an aviator?”

“Old men, can’t be on active duty?”

“The Navy would be too busy worrying about paying for your back pain.”

Goose honked out a laugh that made his callsign make sense.

“I was a backseater, RIO, then after I left I became a civilian flight instructor,” Goose said. “Single-seater?”

“Yep,” Jake said, finally deciding to sit down beside the older man. “Lucky guess?”

It was Jake’s turn to be scrutinized as he was looked up and down, “Nah, I just know the type, do you prefer Jake or Hangman?”

Jake’s lip twitched down before he settled on a blank mask. He used to have no shame regarding his callsign, so who gives a shit if he misspelled a couple words here and there. Until.

“All you do is leave good men hanging! Goddamn executioner of your own squad!”

“Hangman! Smoke in the ai-”

“Lieutenant Jacob “Hangman” Seresin, you did everything you could, dismissed.”

He took a deep breath that was more shaky than he’ll ever admit, “Jake’s good,” he said, flashing a smirk as he took another sip of his drink.

The older man’s eyes softened and he gave Jake a small smile.

“How about you?” Jake asked, realizing it was polite to reciprocate the question.

“Eh, either is fine, they’re both the same to me,” Nick said, shrugging.

“Doesn’t Goose remind you of the thrill of being in a jet?” Jake asked, swirling his beer bottle around.

“Nah, reminds me more of hanging around the boys,” Nick replied. “Still see them, but it ain’t the same as it used to be. Plus, I think I’ve had enough excitement for this life,” Nick said chuckling, leaning back and both men wincing as they heard his spine crack.

“You’re showing your age, old man,” Jake muttered, looking at him worriedly, wondering if he was about to keel over. “You hangin’ in there, gramps?”

Nick chuckled, “Not that old, brat, I have a son your age. He’s 27.”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Hmmm, 21?”

Jake squawked in offense, “You’re actin’ like this my second time drinkin’ or somethin’!”

Nick raised a brow at him, “Is it not?”

Jake glared at him and all Goose saw was the same pout on his son’s face when he withheld the cookies from him.

“ ‘M 23,” Jake muttered.

“See? Not that far off, no need to get your feathers all ruffled, birdy,” Nick said, honking out a laugh.

Jake grumbled, but Goose could see the smile behind the sip of the beer bottle.

—

“Mav, did the Navy bio-engineer you and Ice’s DNA to create a son we don’t know about?”

Mav paused, looking at his phone to check if this was Goose he was talking to. “Not that I know off,” he said slowly. “Why?”

“Kid, tall, blond hair, green eyes, naval aviator, technical flying style with some of your style, has your social skills too,” Goose added the last part thoughtfully.

“Is that a compliment to the kid or an insult?”

“....Anyways, you made sure you don’t have some kid we don’t know about, right? Because if you gave me a nephew and didn’t make me his godfather I will ground you, no jets for a month.”

“Let me check with Ice.”

—

“Hello my sweet-precious-baby-mini-me,” Goose crowed to the phone as his son groaned on the other line.

“Dad, I am taller and bigger than you.”

“You still get your good looks from me, honey, how’s the deployment going?”

“The other pilots are shitheads, the amount of ego here is astounding.”

“Naval aviators,” Goose said, shrugging before realizing his son can’t see that. “There’s never a shortage of ego, say these pilots are younger than you?”

“Some of them are, some of them are older,” Bradley said slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Good, you’ll have enough practice then.”

“Practice!? Practice for what!? Dad?”

“All good things come to those who wait, Brad-Brad.”

—

Hey gramps, I’m being’ deployed to Top Gun, Hard Deck?

Sure, Jakey

—

Gramps flew with pops? Goose and Maverick ejected. Goose got an honorable discharge. Holy shit.

Bradshaw was Nick’s son?

Is that why he was angry?

—

Hangman was face to face with Bradshaw, anger coursing through his veins. Doesn’t he understand? If they couldn’t fly like Maverick, they would all end up dead. Dead.

Is he angry because of hop 31? Pissed on behalf of his Dad? But, Nick wasn’t angry at Pete, right?

You can find out.

“Come on, take a walk with me, son.”

No. Nick doesn’t deserve that.

“You have a family Bradshaw,” Jake said slowly, watching as Bradshaw’s hackles raised up even higher.

“Yeah, kid is simultaneously too hesitant and reckless at the same time, and I thought my wingman is the reason I’m gray…”

“You’re almost 60 gramps, that’s the reason why you’re gray.”

“Don’t let them lose you because you can’t think straight. Feelings ain’t matter here, not if you want to live,” Jake gritted out, shoulder checking the other man as he left the room.

—

They’re alive.

He saved them.

Thank fucking god because in all the hours he spent on stand-by in his jet, he still didn’t know what the fuck to say to Nick if he came back, but his brother and son didn’t.

A selfish part of him wondered if Nick would still care if they both died.

Probably not. Thank god he wasn’t a complete fuck up.

—

The celebration died down and he was walking back from his long-ass debrief. Getting reamed for launching without orders.

He felt his phone ping with a text.

Come over for dinner when you’re onshore.

Jake gave a small smile at that as he sent back a reply.

—

“Hangman! Hangman! Lieutenant Seresin! Jake!”

It was the inverted version of Mav calling out for Rooster during that first day in the tarmac. Except Jake was already turning around once Mav said Lieutenant.

“Jesus, Mav, calm down, I hear ya, I ain’t goin’ anywhere yet, pops,” Jake said, raising his hands up as he flicked his toothpick to the side of his mouth. “Don’t stretch your legs too far tryin’ to keep up with me,'' Jake said, smirking.

Mav rolled his eyes upwards as he put his hands on his hips, as if asking god for patience. Heh.

“I wasn’t able to talk to you one-on-one after the mission, kid, how are you?” Mav said, eyes softening as he looked at Jake up and down.

Jake felt self-conscious, as he straightened up instinctively, which was dumb because surely Mav wouldn’t notice that he was eating less. That he felt more tired each day. That he doesn’t know what kind of man he is.

“I’m fine, Mav, just thinking,” is all Jake could say.

“Don’t think too hard, kid, you might hurt yourself,” Mav said, giving Jake a smile, but there’s a glint in his eye that told him he meant it.

Mav’s an ace.

“Do you think about it, often?” Jake blurted out.

Mav furrowed his brow, “Think about what?”

Killing people.

No, not now.

“Nothing, nothing, sorry, pops, long day, just thinkin’ about how much the big bosses lectures on and on and on,” Hangman said, cringing at the babbling he just did.

Mav frowned, looking unconvinced, but gave a grin when command’s lectures were brought up, “I just learned to tune it out and forget. After you hear the first one, it all sounds the same, anyways.”

Jake barked a laugh at that, “You’re a menace, Mav.”

Mav grinned at Jake’s laugh, shoulders relaxing as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“Anyways, I’m here to ask if you’re free tonight? My family and I are having dinner together and I want you to join in,” Mav said. “Some of the other Daggers will be there.”

He felt a pang of regret when he realized he’d have to decline, and it must have shown on his face, when Mav gave an understanding smile.

“Have plans, already, huh?”

“Yeah, a,” grandpa, family, mentor, father-figure-, “friend invited me for dinner, I haven’t seen him in a while, and yeah. I wanna hang out with ya pops and the squad, cross my heart, it’s just that I already got plans, and-”

Mav cut him off with a chuckle, “I get it, kid, don’t work yourself up, there will always be next time. Just promise me I won’t have to bail you out of jail tonight and you have fun.”

Jail with Nick? What a joke.

“Aye, Aye, Captain!” Jake said, giving Mav a salute, smirking as Mav shooed him away.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, brat, don’t cause trouble, you hear me!?”

“As if you can talk.”

—

Jake took a deep breath as he turned off the ignition of his truck, grabbing the beers he brought. He ain’t gonna come to a dinner empty handed, and Nick was more of a beer guy, rather than a wine guy.

He went up to the door and knocked.

“Hangman?”

“Mav?” Jake said, blinking his eyes in shock.

“Jakey! You made it, kiddo,” Nick greeted warmly, gently pushing Mav away to envelop Jake in a tight hug. Jake closed his eyes and leaned in, burying his eyes on the older man’s shoulder, trying to reciprocate the hug despite his hands being full.

“Here, let me take that from you, buddy, and you two can catch up for a little bit,” Mav said when Jake pulled away from the hug, taking the beer from his hands.

“It’s okay, pops–”

“How come Mav gets pops, but you call me gramps?” Nick said, pouting as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulder.

“Because,” Jake said dumbly, still a bit shock at seeing Mav.

“Ahh forgot to tell ya I invited my former wingman, Mav and of course you’ve heard of my son, Brad-Brad,” Nick said leading Jake to the kitchen. “Some other guys will be coming, later, some of them are part of Mav’s squad.”

“We’re well-acquainted Goose, heck, the kid even told me he couldn’t come to hangout with us because he had plans with a friend,” Mav said grinning at the two of them.

“Awwww, so you do see me as a friend, huh, Jakey?” Goose cooed, ruffling Jake’s hair as Jake pushed him away.

“I didn’t know you were invitin’ me to the thing I was already invited to!” Jake protested, blushing.

“Hey Dad, where’s the— holy shit, Hangman, you came?” Bradshaw Jr. said, walking into the kitchen. “Mav said you said no, did something happen?” Rooster asked, furrowing his brow.

Jake finally had a side by side view of the two Bradshaw’s. Definitely related. Should have figured that out years ago.

“Ohhh good that you’re here Brad, here’s the baby brother I promised you years ago,” Nick said, steering Jake by the shoulders to push him towards Bradley. “You’ll love him, play nice, okay?”

“That is a pain in my ass, grown-ass man,” Bradley said, blinking slowly as if he couldn’t understand what was happening. “How the hell did you two even meet?”

“Oh, I found him in a bar acting like a mixture of Mav and Ice and I just gotta keep him,” Nick said casually.

“Baby brother-?”

“Congratulations, you’re adopted, kid,” Mav said, taking a sip of his beer. “Wait til Ice sees you.”

“Ice?”

“Iceman,” Nick said. “Tom-Tom, Tommy, Tomcat, you will probably be calling him gramps.”

“I am not calling the COMPACFLT, gramps,” Jake said, jaw-dropping.

“No, you will be calling my brother, gramps, Jakey, plus they already expect it, they have heard many stories about you.”

“You talk about me to the Iceman!?” Jake said, his pitch rising an octave.

“And me, and everyone else, I was wondering why I haven’t heard about this aviator kid Goose here was talking about, started thinking he adopted an air force kid or something,” Mav said grinning. “He only really called you Jakey.”

“Or Jake-Jake, Jay, Baby J –” Bradley started, smirking at a flushing Jake.

“THAT’s enough,” Jake said, pushing at Bradley to cut him off, but Bradley just laughed.

“Boys enough. Bradley, stop teasing your brother. Jakey, no pushing,” Goose said wagging a finger at them.

“Yeah, yeah, dad,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“Also, we need to make a custody contract, Goose, I want partial custody of these two,” Mav said looking way too serious as he pulled out a pen and a piece of paper.

“We need to wait for the other boys to show up first, I have a feeling Cyclone or Iceman would be calling dibs,” Goose said grinning.

“What?” Jake said, confused.

“It means, you’re stuck with us now, Jake-Jake,” Bradley said, ruffling the blond’s hair.

—

“You named your kid, Bradley Bradshaw?”

“I wanted a little Brad-Brad.”

#fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #pete maverick mitchell #mavdad #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #parental nick goose bradshaw #cyclone and ice and the other flyboys are dads here too #i just like the thought of Jake being adopted and be given love #bradley is gonna be a big brother in this one #jake hangman seresin needs a hug

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ladylooch · 2 months

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Apologies and Considerations [Mack X David]

Word count: 2.8k

Before you enter, catch up on these blurbs: 1, 2, 3, 4

This happens the same night Mack apologizes to David at his game with a sign, while wearing his jersey and a bracelet with his name and number on it.

By the end of the game, glitter is all over Mack’s black jeans from David’s sign. It hangs in her left hand as she waits with Stella, Sophie and Lucie after the game. While running away has its appeal, Mack knows it isn’t right. She should talk to him. She wants to. Mack reaches out to Stella’s head resting on Lucie’s shoulder. She brushes back her wild, brown curls, appreciating how sweet Stella looks asleep. She was a wild animal during the game, but you wouldn’t know it now.

“Mackncheese, 14 looks as good on you as I thought it would.” David chirps from her left as he walks closer, glugging on some water. He is wearing a blue plaid suit with a white shirt and black, dress sneakers. His black hair is still slightly wet and strands fall onto his forehead from where he had pushed them back with his hand. Mack watches his approach, silent and nervous. He knows she is anxious, Mack can see it in the way he softens, becoming extremely approachable and gentle. Mack opens up the sign to him, biting her lip. “I saw that.” He smiles at her, then licks his lips. “But I, a bumfuck Iowa boy, only accept apologies over New York Style pizza.”

“Oh.” Mack laughs, feeling herself blush. “Um… no pineapple right?”

“God, no.” He shakes his head at her. “Pepperoni?” He wonders.

“That I can do.”

“You free right now?” He asks, taking the sign from her. “I am gonna have to take this home and inspect your work though. You understand, right?” Mack is so relieved at how this is going. She relaxes completely, chuckling genuinely in agreement.

“I messed up the M. Don’t judge too hard.”

“Maybe Stella did the M?”

“Stella did not help, so I don’t have her to blame that on. But Sophie did.” Mack shrugs, gesturing to her younger sister who is texting off to the side of the group.

“Sophie? Never heard of her.” David can’t even hold back his grin.

“Stop.” Mack blushes.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He reaches for her wrist, tugging her closer to him.

“Wait where?” Mack sputters.

“To Pizza. I’m starving and you look like you need a drink, at minimum. So let’s go.” Mack pauses, still not moving with him. “Unless you have other plans at 10:30pm?” He’s got her there. Her only plans were a detox face mask and a Netflix documentary about the ocean. “It’s either today or I pick you up at your place tomorrow at 7. We can’t keep going on estranged like this, Mackncheese. It’s too hard on poor Stella over there.” He points to the sleeping little girl. Mack looks over her shoulder at her sisters and her sleeping niece. Lucie gives her a pointed look like “finish fixing this”.

“Now is.. Fine.” She shakes her head awkwardly. David laces their fingers together, then waves at the remaining Hischier girls.

“Have a good night, ladies.”

“Bye Davey.” Lucie smirks.

Mack follows behind David. Several staff members say goodbye to him as they head out, offering up encouragement from his game tonight. David takes it all in stride, not bothering to slow down for anybody except for the valet who holds his car keys in his hand. David hands over a few bills and pats the man on the back.

“Shined er up for me eh?” David jokes as he opens up the passenger side door of a Black Land Rover.

“The Davey special!” The valet responds. David laughs in response, then focuses his eyes back on Mack as she slides in.

“You good?” He double checks with her. She tucks her hair behind her ear apprehensively.

“Yeah.” The door shuts and Mack is engulfed in a moment of silence. She inhales the crisp, piney scent of his air freshener. His car is immaculately clean, not what she was expecting from him at all. She imagined muddy floors and empty water bottles and maybe crumbs everywhere or something equally obnoxious. None of that exists.

David slides into the driver’s side door, then immediately goes to adjust the heat.

“Are you cold at all?”

“I’m comfortable.” She responds, carefully crossing her legs. David puts the car in drive and begins to pull forward. He stops so the door can be raised for him to leave.

“When we go out, there are going to be fans on your side.” David tells her. “The tint will cover most of your face, but you may want to put your hand up if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Mack says, looking over at the dark tint of the passenger side window. “Okay.” He waits until she puts her hand up to block a majority of her face, then slides out of the rolled up door. He pushes the car fast through the group of fans lining the fencing, then peels out onto the street.

“You should be good now.” He murmurs, adjusting the vents of air off him. That hand then rests on his thick thigh closest to Mack. Trying to be inconspicuous, she studies him whenever the car is moving. He is so relaxed as he winds his way through the traffic. He is constantly moving between the lanes, but not in a rushed way, in a confident driving way. It's... sexy, watching him be in such control while chaos flows around them.

“Do you have a place in mind?” Mack asks.

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I go here a lot after games.” He flicks his blinker on to turn right. “They, uh,” He pauses, looking over his shoulder to change lanes again. “Are a small shop open late. But their pizza is amazing, best sauce I’ve had in New York. And their beer is cold.”

“What more could you want?” Mack laughs at his simple description.

But when she walks inside with him a few minutes later, she gets it. White and red checkered tablecloths are on the square tables. Each one has parmesan and red pepper along with rolled up silverware sets in cups. It is simple in the midst of a fancy, expensive town, like the man who Brough her here tonight. Mack looks over at David and smiles in appreciation. David grabs them a corner booth, opening his arm up for Mack to slide in first. He unbuttons his suit jacket, then sits on the other side.

“I don’t usually do this, but can I order for us?” He asks after they give their drink orders to the waitress. A Coors Light for him and a Watermelon High Noon for her. Mack, who hates when men order for her, considers. David awaits her answer in the same relaxed fashion he always does. Mack trusts him and nods. “Thank you. Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.” She says.

“I feel like if you had an allergy you would just squint at it and it would scurry it’s way out of your body. I’m sure illnesses do that too.” Mack rolls her eyes.

“I’m mortal, same as you.” A low chuckle shakes David’s shoulders.

“Honey, not much about me and you is the same. I think that’s the problem here.”

Mack’s response is cut off by the waitress returning. David puts their order in- a pepperoni pizza with fresh basil. Mack was expecting something very extravagant with the way he wanted her to trust him. Her furrowed eyebrows indicate as much to David. He hold his glass up to her can in a cheers, after they drink, he explains.

“Life is about the simple things, Mack. They have great sauce, great crust, and a hell of a pepperoni. You don’t need anything else but those ingredients. It’s a flavor bomb in your mouth.”

“That what you learned in bumfuck Iowa?” Mack asks. David chuckles.

“Some of it. But a lot of that I learned moving here. A city of excess.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I don’t remember a ton of growing up in Jersey, but I certainly remember the pace was different in Switzerland.”

“Are you like Lucie? Do you identify yourself as American?”

“No. I’m Swiss first. Lucie grew up a lot more here than I did. We had a three year age difference, but those three years were big differences development wise, especially when you move internationally.” David nods.

“I can see that.”

“Have you been?” Mack wonders, taking another sip of her drink.

“To Switzerland? No. Connor says I need to go though.”

“Yeah.” Mack murmurs.

“So why are you here then?”

“A job. My dream one. I work for Travel + Leisure. But I don't consider this home. New York is just a place to live in between stories for me. I needed a home base and it made sense for it to be here with my dual citizenship. I went to college in Switzerland, but it’s hard to grow into who you want to be when you’re in the same hometown you grew up in.” David looks away but nods.

“Yeah, the same story following you around everywhere you go. All the same characters too."

“Mhm.” Mack nods. David brings his gaze back to her, trailing his green eyes up where her fingers rest on her drink, over her throat and lips before ending at her brown eyes.

“I’m just a small town farm boy, Mack. I’m not some big city perv who wants to coerce your sister into some sinister place. There are bad people in this city, but I’m not one of them.”

“I know. I overreacted and said things I shouldn’t have. I’m very embarrassed by my behavior. I am sorry for what happened. I was out of line.” David continues to study her while his thumb brushes against the condensation on his glass.

“You’ve been doing this a lot.” He points out. “Jumping down my throat the second you can like my sole job on this planet is to annoy you.”

“Isn’t it?” She asks, raising her eyebrows.

“No, only part of it.”

“Mmm, I see.” She smiles. He licks his lips, dropping his gaze to the table. A slow, tempest of a smile stretches across his lips.

“I think you and I could be really good together.” Mack's stomach bottoms out to the floor. Her heart starts to pound when his green eyes, full of lust, meet hers again. Mack’s lips part. A tingling awareness begins to consume her skin. “But if you’re not interested in that, let me know and we can stop this whole game.”

“This has been a game?”

“Of course it has, Mack.” She notes the lack of a nickname for her. He is serious. “Don’t act like you haven’t been playing too.”

“Not everything is a game, 14.”

“No, but with me and you it has been.” Mack doesn’t have a response for that. Is he wrong? She isn’t sure. She knows what it feels like from her perspective only and yeah, I guess some of it resembles a game- a dance, a twisting and turning race track that has a finish line she can’t see or understand.

“I don’t need an answer from you right now. I know that isn’t your style. You want to go home and evaluate all the different angles and reasons for why we shouldn't, and that's fine. I accept that. But you should know that when I go all in, I never look back.” A shiver of pleasure bolts down Mack’s spine. “I’d take good care of you. Not because you need it, because lord knows you have everything handled for yourself, but because you deserve somewhere safe to fall to when you don’t wanna be tough anymore. I’ll be that place for you.”

The waitress, with no understanding of the conversation, comes to set the pizza down between them. Mack is speechless, unable to even answer if she needs anything else to eat. David answers for them both. Mack’s eyes take in the deliciousness in front of her, then raises her eyes to David’s, something that is looking equally delicious.

“So tell me about growing up in Switzerland. Did you go hiking all the time and eat fondue?” David changes the subject completely. Mack stares back at him, then takes the turn with him.

“Yes, every day and night. That is all we did. Hike and fondue.”

- - -

In the car ride on the way back to her building, Mack is quiet, contemplating the earlier conversation with David. She hasn’t been able to think of much else since then. Mack isn’t sure what she wants and is extremely confused why she is even considering his proposal. She can’t stand him. At least she thought she couldn't? But then they talked tonight, really talked and connected. Where once there were completely different planets, now common ground exists.

“Nice place.” He comments as the Land Rover pulls up outside her building. He puts the car in park.

“Yeah this is what daddy’s money gets you.” She shrugs as she takes off her seatbelt.

“I’m sure you do well for yourself. Your articles are always front and center.” Mack pauses with her hand on the door handle.

“What?”

“Your articles. Isn’t being in the center good for a contributor?”

“Yeah, but how do you…”

“I read your stuff, Mack. Have read everything since before and after we met. I like your style. Your writing makes me believe I’ve been to where you have. That type of voice is special.”

“Thank you.” Mack says genuinely. “I work really hard.”

“It shows.” He nods. “Can I walk you to the door?”

“I’d like that.” She says.

“Let me grab your door. My dad would be upset if I let you do it yourself.”

Mack sits inside, waiting for him to come around and grab her door. He offers her his hand. She gently places hers in his awaiting palm. His fingers grip hers firmly. He keeps them together even as he shuts the door after she exits. Their fingers lace through their spaces. Mack is astonished again at how comfortable this feels.

She looks down, noting the way their fingers fold together like familiar lovers. Her gaze works its way up his arm to his face where he is looking at her, watching, trying to read her like always. Mack looks forward again, feeling too vulnerable to give anything away. So much turmoil swirls beneath her skin. What has happened tonight? Nothing she expected.

They climb the steps together, then Mack separates their hands.

“I enjoyed our first date.” He tells her, hands stuffed in his pockets outside the door to her apartment building.

“This was not a date.”

‘It was a date. I drove. I ordered the food. I paid. I drove you home.”

“No.” Mack shakes her head. “We didn’t…” She trails off, eyes wide when she realizes where she was going with that.

“Oh? You are a kiss on the first date kind of girl?.” His big hands weave around her body over her jacket. He presses her into his body until every part of them touch. “We can fix that.” He whispers, then leans down to kiss her.

Mack feels the wind knock out of her chest when their lips touch. Her senses go into overdrive, then her body melts completely into him. Her hands grip his suit jacket, forearms separating her chest from his. His tongue glides along her bottom lip, then gently asks for entrance into her mouth. Mack opens for him and he begins to gorge on her, taking anything and everything she is willing to provide him. Mack has never been kissed like this. It’s never been all consuming, losing the New York City street, or the feeling of snowflakes collecting in her hair, but with David Carlson it is. Nothing else exists but these two people, kissing on a city street.

“Now it was a date.” David finishes when they pull apart for air. Mack is disoriented when their gazes meet. Her lips are puffy and swollen, upper lip irritated from his mustache. She has trouble focusing on anything but his mouth. David takes his opportunity and kisses her again. This time, his hands thread through her hair, tilting her face to get the angle he wants to plunge his tongue into her mouth. Their lips slurp and slide against each other. Someone moans and Mack can’t quite believe it, but she’s pretty sure it was her.

"I want my answer soon.” He murmurs as they pull away. His thumb drags her bottom lip down, exposing her teeth before letting it slide back into place. Mack’s heavy breathing swirls between their faces.

“What answer?” She asks him.

“On if you wanna go in on this.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit. Think about it. I'll check in next week.” His thumb and pointer finger work her chin up. Then he kisses her softly, before stepping away completely. Mack shivers, then brings her fingers up to touch her lips. This man has turned everything about her upside down. Since when does she just fall into a man and slurp up every bit of their kiss? “Sweet dreams, Mack.”

Mack stands there, outside of the door to her apartment building, for several long moments, blinking and attempting to ground herself back in the present. David’s Land Rover stays parked in its spot, blinker on, but not moving from the curb. Eventually, David rolls down the window and calls out to her.

“Mack, honey, can you go inside? So I can leave?” Mack nods compliently, then shuffles inside, thanking her door man on her way in.

“Whew. He is something, Ms. Hischier. The way he kissed you was a scene right out of a movie. Your daddy would like him.”

“This stays between you and me, Ron.” Mack practically begs her old, familiar door man.

“Yes ma’am. Your secret is safe with me.”

Great, now he’s a secret. Mack looks over her shoulder, watching David’s SUV merge into traffic.

He said he wants to be her safe place, but everything about this feels unsafe to her.

#mackdavid au

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vinnival · 11 months

Text

I think I will now drop my Jonah HCs !!

Buckle in, boys, there's a reason why I call myself the CEO of him/hj

Things he likes

Drums!! He used to always sneak to the band room in high school in order to practice on them. At least, before he got a set of his own and all.

Honeybuns! Always loved them. He in general has a sweet tooth (blame weed brownies) but always catered to honeybuns. Any time he shoplifts you'll most definitely find him pocketing a honeybun somewhere.

Weed. This is canon, yes, but he's also tried out many of the other drug methods and hated them, simply stuck to weed.

Physical affection. He's prone to hugging and cuddling. He will hold his friends' hands if they're cold, or flop on top of them if they're stretched out on a bed (all strictly platonically). This is more pronounced when he's high.

Things he dislikes

Authority. You've never seen a man be so spiteful towards the law before/hj

Going back on promises.

Cats. Not even in the funny cat alternate way he's just allergic.

Littering. He always makes sure to pick up after himself and will make sure no one he knows/sees litters.

Social

Whenever he meets someone- unless in a formal or professional setting- he will make a nickname up for them almost immediately. Nicknames include Ads, Sar, Eevee (Adam, Sarah, and Evelin respectively), and so on and so forth.

ASK HIM ABOUT ANIMAL FACTS.

He has DEFINITELY learned some whale facts as a kid just to spite his namesake. So y'know. If you ever happen to find yourself swallowed by a whale--

"Trust me on this. You get eaten by a whale. End of the world, right? NO. Curl into a ball, reduce your surface area. That way, those whales with teeth won't chomp you as easily and you'll just make a harder time for the whale."

He has a wonderful ability to make friends, but most times he chooses not to in favor of hanging out with the ones he cares for most.

Fiercely cares for his friends. This one's a given.

Sceeeene !! Of course, in order to avoid standing out in the era of Being Wanted By The Fucking Feds, he toned down his fashion taste and looks to dark greys and blacks. But before then, he was very much an eyesore. Taste the rainbow mothafuckaaa

He's the type to goof around a lot, so he will poke-poke teasingly or start impromptu pillow fights. This gets even more pronounced when he's high.

Easy-going.

Very... dog-like in personality. Golden retriever of a man/hj

He can and will start impromptu road games while on a drive. Expect him to spot a Volkswagon Bug and LAUNCH A PUNCH—

Mental

He has anxiety. This causes him to overthink... a lot.

He has a tendency to try and blanket his negative emotions or play down bad situations by joking about them. Sometimes it helps him process it! But most times this essentially turns into bottling up his frustrations, which... well. We all saw how that turned out in v2.

He's convinced himself that most times it's just better to walk away than to face things head-on. I repeat, we all saw how that turned o

Educational

Fucking LOVES biology. Always had an interest in animals and plants. He went to college to study biology :)

Keeps a few bugs at his place. Names them after celebrities so he can say shit like "Beyoncé's new roommate Madonna arrived yesterday. They immediately started fighting." and not provide any context to it.

His dad (mentioned up next) wanted him to go to law school. He just ignored that

Familial

His father, Mervin, is a lawyer. He was rarely home.

This left him with his mother, Clementine (OC), who was... eh. She was the bare minimum.

One fateful day, she ran away from them with 50k from Mervin's savings and never returned. In a panic, Mervin sent Jonah off to his grandpa to live with him while the lawyer strained himself to regain the money.

This left Jonah essentially without proper parents, only his abuelo. This is where he learned Spanish, at least!

He has a younger brother he doesn't know about, named Lucas (OC).

Miscellaneous

Peruvian. Obligatory

Will always be overtly dramatic about going to lay in bed. He'll usually do some extravagant dive onto it or something.

Bouncing off the last one, this man LOVES to sleep.

He's always had a hyperfixation on ghosts and the phenomena of spirits, even before he met Adam. Of course, any time too much fuckery happens, you bet your ass he's out of the place and back in their vehicle/observation area, on the cams for other evidence (ghost orbs, etc), or reviewing spirit box recordings.

He shoplifts. He knows all the good tips and tricks of stealing small items.

He's a goddamn furnace. He can have a simple t-shirt and sweatpants on and he'd still feel like he just hopped out of the Sahara.

Very proud of his hair! He loves it. In my HC it's a silver-ish, with just a hint of purple in there.

Has read the JJBA manga.

His favorite movie is The Lion King! He's basically adopted the hakuna matata ideology for his own

He's a big optimist. He'll always try and see the good in things, because... well, it's gotten him this far, hasn't it?

Whenever he listens to music he finds catchy, you'll likely see him tapping out a drum beat, whether it be with his hands or feet.

Likely has ranted before about how common 2/4 beats are in music and how annoying it is.

Likely has ranted about many other things- silly and serious- relating to his interests. He can just do that. Good for him <3

He can and will find ways to always joke about things, whether it be good or bad

Listens to a variety of music, he likes stuff ranging from breakcore to metal. Anything with a good beat.

He usually drives the car but sometimes he takes shotgun so he can watch the scenery fly by.

Demisexual+biromantic, he/him+they/them (when he feels more fluid.)

Started smoking weed because of getting MAD as a kid. He's since forgotten why.

Convinced himself Always believed alternates didn't exist.

Ended up dying via alternate.

#i think i will update these as time goes on i dunno #'i have jonah hcs in my head you guys couldn't even comprehend'#<- FINALLY. you guys can comprehend them now #anyways. jonah <3!!! blorbo from my horror series hyperfix #jonah marshall #jonah marshall tmc #mandela catalogue #mandela catalog #tmc #jonah my belonah

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kaitoujokerscans · 9 months

Text

Get Back Hachi’s Memories! CH7

<7> Traveling Joker Once Again

Back in the guise of Kaitou Joe, Joker returned gleefully with the Sigma Drive in one hand. When he entered the living room, Hosshi hopped over to him.

"Hosshiii! Hosshiii!"

"Waugh! What is it, pseudocat!?"

"Hosshihosshi hosshiii!" It was trying to tell him something, but Joker didn't have time for that right now. He had to use the Sigma Drive and travel to the past ASAP.

From what he could see, Hachi wasn't around. That made this the perfect chance.

"Hoshihoshihoshi!"

"Shush, will ya? I'll hear you out when I get back, so be patient for the moment, pseudocat!"

Joker pushed aside Hosshi, who was bouncing around him, and started to tinker with the Sigma Drive. "Okay... two days ago... it must've been around 9PM. All right, Sigma Drive, start up!" He entered the date and time, pushed the button, and then everything distorted around him. Soon his vision clouded over with a fuzzy haze, and he heard a loud VWOOM sound like a strong wind inside his head.

Right after, a harsh light flashed in front of him, and Joker reflexively shut his eyes...

Joker slowly opened his eyes. His mind was fuzzy. It felt like being woken up by a morning alarm without warning.

The scenery was exactly the same as he had just seen.

"...Did it work?"

Just then, he heard the pattering of footsteps from the other side of the door. Joker quickly hid himself behind the shelving.

Hachi came into the living room.

"I can't believe Joker-san! This time I'm not going to forgive him!" he grumbled as he started to clear the snacks off the table.

Evidently the time jump had worked. Joker had returned to the moment right after he and Hachi had fought and he left for his caper.

"Geez, Joker-san doesn't clean up after himself at all..." Even as he complained, Hachi diligently put away the game console. Joker was filled with an indescribable feeling as he watched him. He sorely missed hearing Hachi call him "Joker-san".

Once Hachi finished tidying up, he returned to the kitchen. Joker peered at him from the shadows and saw him slowly stirring the curry pot.

"...Then again, I might've gone too far..." Hachi murmured as he stirred. Hearing this, Joker felt a sting in his heart.

"I know! I'll finish up this delicious curry and apologize when Joker-san gets back! And I've got a special ingredient just for the occasion!" Forcing himself to cheer up, Hachi removed one of the wall tiles with a plunk. Apparently he'd created a secret compartment in the kitchen. He pulled out a small black bottle from within and sprinkled its powdery contents into the curry.

"Now it's perfect!" Hachi said with satisfaction after putting some of the curry into a saucer and taste-testing it.

As he watched from afar, another feeling welled up in Joker. Hachi had wanted to apologize to him. And yet I...

He wanted to jump out right now and tell Hachi he was sorry.

That's what I can do...! Joker had a sudden realization. If he jumped out and said "Hachi, I'm sorry! It was my fault!" right now, he might be able to restore Hachi's memories. He still didn't know how Hachi had gotten amnesia, but he figured he could at least clear away Hachi's hate for him. Yes, apologizing right away might be the best solution.

Joker's anger toward Hachi had long since cooled. Usually Joker wouldn't even consider apologizing immediately, but this was a special case. Hachi, I was wrong. Sorry for not apologizing to you right away... He practiced the words in his head and was about to step out from behind the shelving when...

"Okay, it's all ready! Now I can enjoy the Shuffle Sisters concert by myself without anything hanging over me!"

Eh...? Joker stopped in his tracks.

Hachi bustled over to the cabinet. He took out a DVD case from inside, swiftly popped the disc into the player, turned on the big TV, and cranked up the volume.

Magical♪ Magical♪ Let's dig in!♪"

The screen displayed the Shuffle Sisters dancing all around the stage of a huge venue in high definition. The Shuffle Sisters was an idol group composed of actual sisters: Ai, Rei, and Kira. They were a popular and widely-recognized group, and Hachi was a big fan of them. Ai, who was Dark Eye's true identity and the eldest sister of the bunch, was Hachi's favorite.

"YAHOOOOOOOOOOOO! AI-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Hachi pulled a homemade fan out of nowhere and started to swing his arm around so wildly it seemed like it'd fly right off. His other hand held a large penlight with the Shuffle Sisters' name on it. It was of course lit up green to match Ai's costume.

In time with the Shuffle Sisters' song, Hachi perspired as he danced the choreography perfectly and bounced around on the large sofa. His expression was so blissful that it was hard to believe he'd been angry before this.

Is he seriously...!? Joker glared intently at Hachi from behind the shelving. His earlier feelings of remorse had vanished to the far end of the universe. Instead, Joker's heart was now stewing with anger toward Hachi, who was enthusiastically enjoying himself before his eyes. I was totally agonizing over this, but it turns out he was whooping it up while I was out! There's no way I'm apologizing! Joker swore to himself. He scowled back at Hosshi nearby, who was looking blankly at him. Unbothered, Hosshi was just going to munch on some konpeito. But as it turned out, Hosshi's konpeito bottle was empty.

"Hosshi," said Hosshi. It then scooped the empty bottle onto its head and approached Hachi, who was obsessively waving his penlight at the screen. Hachi noticed and turned around.

"What's up, Hosshi? Oh, you're out of konpeito."

Hachi went towards the cabinet, pulled the key out of his pocket, and opened up the sliding doors. Hosshi's konpeito was stored there, and it was normally kept locked so that it wouldn't sneak any extra. Hachi looked into the cabinet and pulled out the stockpile of konpeito.

But all of a sudden, he didn't see Hosshi.

"Huh? Where did Hosshi go?" He looked around and spotted Hosshi eyeing a pretty plate displayed atop the shelves. It was a valuable art piece which Joker had recently taken great pains to obtain. Hosshi ate konpeito, but its favorite food was treasure.

"Not that, Hosshi! Joker-san will be angry..." As he spoke, something crossed Hachi's mind. His expression turned mischievous and he scratched his head. He must've just remembered his fight with Joker. "...Well, you can have a little treat every so often."

What!? Listening from the safety of his hiding place, Joker's eyes bulged.

"Hosshi, I didn't see a thing. I'm sure Joker-san would say it's fine for you to eat it"

"It's not fine!" Joker screeched.

Hachi turned around with a start. There was Joker in front of the shelves, an enraged look on his face. He couldn't stand it anymore and had revealed himself.

"Joker-san! ...What's up with your clothes?"

Yes, Joker was still in his Kaitou Joe disguise. Hachi had no way of knowing that this Joker was from the future, so he asked out of puzzlement.

"Oh shut up, who cares! More importantly, don't just let that pseudocat gobble up my precious treasure!"

"W-Well, I...

"That doesn't matter! I came cause I was worried and turns out you were having fun! Waving around that penlight and having the time of your life!"

"Wh- you saw that!?" Hachi's face promptly turned red from embarrassment. "It's awful of you to spy on me! That's an invasion of my privacy!"

"This is my house! You don't get privacy here!"

"What!? So you're saying I can only act how I want to when I'm in my room!?"

"Yeah, you bet!"

"I live here too, you know! I'm your helper, Joker-san!"

"Heh! If you're my helper, then try doing something to help me out for once!"

"You're the one who left me behind, Joker-san!"

"Cause you're useless! I can handle a couple little capers easy without you there!"

"Mrrrghh... Well, you can't do anything by yourself, Joker-san! Just recently I saw you going to the bathroom in the middle of the night all spooked!"

"T-That was because I was playing a scary game before bed! That was an exception, not the norm!"

"I'm not so sure about that! I'm really angry now! Hosshi, go ahead and eat this!" Hachi grabbed a necklace on display next to him and tossed it toward Hosshi.

"Hosshi♪" Hosshi gladly leapt for the necklace and instantaneously gobbled it down.

"AAAAAAAAGH! You jerk!"

"There's plenty more to chow down on!" Hachi pushed a nearby switch, unlocking the display cases in the room with a slow clatter. The priceless collection pieces inside were exposed one after another.

"Hosshi!" Hosshi joyfully dashed around the room, eating treasures left and right.

"Stop it!" Panicked, Joker chased after Hosshi. Chairs fell down, the sofa was jolted, cups crashed down from the shelves; the whole room was thrown into disarray.

"Hold it right there, pseudocat!" Joker finally grabbed hold of Hosshi and squeezed it tight.

"Hoshi hoshi hoshi!" Hosshi slipped out of Joker's grasp and then gasped, the whites of its eyes showing.

"Agh, too late!"

"Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho... HOSSHIIIII!" Hosshi jumped up, leaving an egg with a star shell lying where it had been. When Hosshi ate treasure, it laid eggs. Strangely enough, whatever came out of the egg ended up being a useful item for people in the near future.

The egg cracked open and Joker looked to see what it was.

"The heck is this? Glue?" He picked up a small bottle of adhesive. It really didn't seem like this could come in handy at the moment.

I spent so much effort getting that treasure, and now it's reduced to this...

"Hey!" Joker turned angrily toward Hachi. "This is your fault, Hachi!"

"No, it's your fault, Joker-san! You're never nice to me or Hosshi, so this is karma!"

"Oh yeah!?" Still holding the glue, Joker rushed toward Hachi. Hachi ran away into the kitchen. "Get back here, you jerk!"

Just then, it happened. The konpeito bottle was rolling around at Hachi's feet, and Hachi accidentally put all his weight on it. "W-Whoa! Waaaahhh!"

Hachi lost his balance and instinctively tried to grab onto something, which happened to be a cloth hanging in front of him. The cloth was actually a large tapestry which Joker had stolen recently. There was a large skull sculpture resting above it. When Hachi pulled down on the tapestry, it came away from the wall, and with it came the skull sculpture as well.

"Hachi!?" yelled Joker. A moment later, Hachi was lying on the ground with the tapestry fluttering over him. The skull sculpture followed, dropping down right over his head...

Donk. A loud thud came from under the tapestry.

"Hachi!" Joker frantically rushed over and shoved the tapestry aside. Under it, Hachi was knocked out cold. A bump was starting to swell just above his brow — a familiar spot.

"Ohhhh, I messed up so bad..."

Just then, a buzzer sound came from Joker's pocket where the Sigma Drive was resting. He quickly checked it and saw on the display "10 seconds left". It was already counting down.

"Shoot, it's already time to go back! Wait, right! The secret ingredient for the curry!" Joker finally remembered the reason why he'd gone back in the first place and ran into the kitchen. The curry was stewing on low heat on the stove.

Joker removed the tile hiding the secret compartment and took the black bottle from within. "This is it!" The moment after Joker grabbed the bottle, everything around him warped, his vision clouded over, and then a harsh light flashed...

"Hm, so this is it..." Hyakkimaru picked up the small black bottle and examined it closely. Joker was seated in front of him. He'd come straight over to Hyakkimaru's hideout as soon as he'd gotten the bottle.

"Yeah, apparently that's the secret ingredient Hachi put in his curry."

Joker had promptly checked the contents of the bottle upon returning to his original time period. However, it was empty inside. Hachi must have used up the last of it in his latest batch. Joker had intended to have amnesiac-Hachi tell him what would've been inside, but he was gone for some reason. This was why Hosshi had been so frantic when Joker got back.

Having lost all leads, Joker visited Hyakkimaru again. At any rate... Joker felt even more responsible than before. If he'd simply apologized to Hachi when he returned to the past, Hachi might not have forgotten. But instead Hachi hit his head again and lost his memory. And by chasing him this time, Joker had contributed to the problem.

There's gotta be some way for me to get Hachi's memory back...

"Hm... I've seen this crest design before," said Hyakkimaru, spotting the small emblem printed on the bottom of the bottle. Joker took a look for himself. True enough, there was a crest with three rectangles. "This is the Iga Ninja crest."

"The Iga?"

"Indeed. I've heard tell of a wonder herb handed down through the Iga clan. Ninjas used it to season bland rations when they were on missions in enemy territory."

"That's it... that's gotta be it!"

"But the herb is the Iga's most closely-guarded secret. They won't easily permit you to learn about it."

"Who ever said I was gonna get their permission?" Joker stood up and exclaimed. "I'm a phantom thief. I don't bother with asking, I just steal things!"

"Yes... this is for Hachi's sake. I'll lend you my aid."

"Then let's get going!"

Then, just as the two were about to step out-

"!" Hyakkimaru's eyes glinted. A split second later, something hurtled their way at high speed. He caught it.

"This is..." A messenger arrow lay in his hands. There was a scrap of paper attached around the middle of the handmade arrow. "What does it mean?"

He unfolded the paper, revealing a message written in neat and mannerly letters.

"Letter of challenge!

To Kaitou Joe-san, better known as Phantom Thief Joker.

You're a terrible person for deceiving me!

I swear I'll get revenge for this, so you better watch out!

—Fuuma Hachi"

#kaitou joker #light novel

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Note

Bucky Barnes + Creampie + 28!

Strike A Deal

Hi Roo! For the prompt ask game: Bucky Barnes + First time (or size kink if first time is already taken) + number 9. Have a good day!

Mystery Prompts: “I did what you told me to. What else do you want?” + “Wouldn’t it be hot if he found you like this?”

Warnings: rapre/noncon, loss of virginity, coercion

You stare at the man sat in your father’s chair. The one he passed out in almost every night after too many bottles. Or the one he slumped into after a late night at the bar.

You look at the man as he counts the money, a subtle grin on his lips as he gets to the bottom of the crumpled bills and slaps them against his palm. The man, the boss, the mobster, the one and only Bucky Barnes.

“Well, that looks like what he lost… but it doesn’t account for interest. It’s been months,” he rocks in the chair as he raises his chin smugly.

“What? That’s all the money. I did what you told me to,” you swallow as your lip threatens to tremble. Two jobs, double shifts, and a dwindling relationship with your bed was hardly enough to cover your father’s gambling debts, “What else do you want?”

He tucks away the money and bites his thumb as he looks at you. His eyes drift from your face and he tilts his head with a hum.

“You coulda left the old man, you must be more than old enough,” he pokes his tongue against his cheek and drops his hand, his rings catching the yellow glare of the dusty lamp, “if you can’t afford the interest, we can come to an arrangement.”

You look at the door then down the hall. When he knocked, you answered. You learned before there was no ignoring this man, this monster your father lured into your lives. You take a breath and shrug.

“I can have it next week, how much?”

“Next week, I already gave you an extension,” he pushes his shoulders back and sucks his teeth, “I got money. I don’t want any more from you.”

“Than--”

“Well, I’m sure you can figure out what else you can offer me,” his hands graze his thighs and he flicks the button of his fly open, “not usually my type but you got a cunt hidden under all that.”

You glower and glance away from him again. You can hear your dad snoring through the walls of the small apartment. You don’t know what to say so your mouth just hangs open dumbly.

“Come on, I can be quiet,” he hushes as he holds his finger to his lips, “you don’t make much noise, eh?”

Your blood turns cold as you fidget. You’re not quite sure how to go forward. You know you don’t have a choice, that if this evens the scales then you’ll do it. Maybe one day he’ll get sober, maybe one day, you’ll leave this dingy place and be happy.

“Just on my lap,” he says as he unzips his pants, “jesus, drag your feet long enough and he’ll wake up before we finish.”

You near him, your mouth dry, your hands shaking. He pulls himself through the opening of his pants, his hard cock drawing your startled eyes. He leans forward and grabs your jeans, ripping them down so hard he nearly takes you off your feet.

“Get in my lap,” he snarls as he “loosen up, will ya?”

You stumble as he yanks your panties down in turn and you trip out of the heap of fabric at your feet. You catch yourself against him as he guides you into his lap and the chair rocks dangerously beneath him. He grunts as he grips your hips and steadies you, wrinkling his brow as he blindly guides his tip along your cunt.

You raise yourself on your knees as he does, your pulse tamping in your temples.

“Wait,” you choke on your fear as you push on his shoulders, “I can’t do this--”

“Sure you can, honey, it’s just a quick fuck,” he grasps your waist and pushes you down.

He impales you painfully and you cry out as it ripples up your spine. You bite your knuckle to keep from screaming. He moves you and you squeeze the lapel of his jacket. It fucking hurts. It wasn’t for lack of trying that you hadn’t done it before but you thought it was bullshit when they talked about pain.

“Ah, shit, doll, I didn’t even… this isn’t… your first time?” his voice is airy, “shit, you shoulda said something, I woulda gotten you warmed up.”

You huff as you try to adjust to him but your squirming only makes him sink deeper. You bend your head and measure your breaths, eager to be done, eager for it to end. He kneads your ass as he guides you, the chair’s springs whining loudly beneath him. That’s your father’s chair and he’s tainting it.

“Oh, doll, the way you're squeezing me, I can’t…” He rests his head against your chest, his breath whisking along your curves as he bucks below you, “it’s so good…”

He holds you down, rocking his hips as he leaned back and the chair reclines suddenly. He lurched back and took you with him, hammering into you as his nails dug into the back of your thighs. His grunts and growl swirl around you and his motion turns erratic.

He stifles a growl as he bares his teeth and delves as deep as he can. He coats your walls as he clings to you and his rapid breath pepper your cheek.

“Mmm,” he sighs and drags his nails along your ass, “Wouldn’t it be hot if he found you like this? Hmm, thinking of him knowing what you did for him. What I did to you?”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #ask #request #mystery prompt #mcu #marvel

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struggling-with-time · 3 years

Text

Why did it have to be Him? [George x reader]

Paring: cc!Georgenotfound x Fem!reader (platonic) (cc!Wilbur Soot x Fem!reader)

Summary: You're George's friend, who he is very much in love with, but you are dating Wilbur.

Warnings: Angst, sour!George

Words: 1.7K

Masterlist: George's Masterlist - Wilbur's Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: Heavily inspired by Him by James Marriott. Please request if you have any ideas. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

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George opens the door and greets her with a hug. “It’s good to see you again.” She returns his wide smile, god she looks happy. It makes him want to frown, but he doesn’t at least not as long as she’s looking.

“Thank you for inviting us!” She tells him as she hands George a bottle of wine. It’s the cheap brand they used to share when they were both younger. He laughs slightly when he notices.

“Of course, you’re always welcome.” He tells her as she passes him by. He watches as she hangs her coat. He follows her with his eyes as she moves along the hallway.

“Eh-hem.” A cough brings George back to the person she brought with her.

Wilbur.

“Oh.” George tries not to let his face fall. But a change is more than noticeable to the man in front of him. “She brought you. Well, come in.”

And like that his host face is back on, ever the charmer with the famous pretty privilege. George turns away from Wilbur heading back up the stairs.

“You coming, Wilbur?” He calls after the taller lad.

George waves a quick hand to his guest, before heading to the kitchen. Knowing he’ll find her there, and he can put the wine away.

He sees her immediately, her head looking into his fridge searching for a drink. George walks over and puts a hand on the fridge door. Making her look up at him.

God, why does she have to look so innocent?

“Soo…” He trails off.

“Soo…” She replies.

“Wilbur huh?”

She slams the fridge door, making George pull his hands up in a defensive position.

“We are not having this conversation again George.” She rolls her eyes. She lets out a sigh. Then she takes the bottle of cheap wine from his hand and reopens the fridge to put it away.

“I was just going to ask if you have been any places lately?”

She huffs at his question, an eyeroll just in sight, but not present.

“We have. Thank you for asking.”

George smiles at her response. He reaches over the counter to take a bag of crisp.

“And that didn’t happen to be the arcade, did it now?” He opens the bag, ignoring the eyeroll that she is finally giving into.

“And what if it did?”

George offers her the bag, and she takes a handful.

“I’m just saying, we both know what happens after the arcade. Then it’s the beach trip.” He watches her carefully. “Then a fancy dinner.” She eats a chip. “Then the short camping trip.” She winces. Got her. “Then the promise to meet his parents.” She tugs her arms closer to herself. “And then the inevitable excuse about him either not having time, being in the right mental state or…” George trails off.

“George c’mon he’s your friend. Don’t talk about him like that.” She dusts her hands off from the crisp dust and picks up the drink she settled on.

“So, there is no reason you have been looking for camping gear I take it.”

She brushes past him on the way out of the kitchen.

“You disappoint me!” George calls after her, as they join the others in the living room.

She sits down beside Wilbur, and George nearly scoffs at the way Wilbur is sitting. He’s the tallest in the room, and he sure knows it.

Pretentious fucker.

Why did he have to introduce the two of them? Why did George have to be the one to lead his friend down that path? Why did he have to absolute watch the girl he’s head over heels with fall for another guy? And why did it have to be him? Why of all people did it have to be fucking Wilbur?

Wilbur throws an arm over her, but he doesn’t even look at her. George is. George is the one looking at her. Not him.

It takes George under one drink to want to rip Wilbur’s arm off. But it takes the rest of it to calm him down. This is why it isn’t you. George reminds himself.

Wilbur starts talking about his future and his plans for said future. His plans. And how she fits into them. George seethes at the thought. She only fits into his grand scheme of things as an afterthought, an add on. An accessory. The guy is a prick. But an ambitious and successful one at that too.

George excuses himself. A lie about needing more to drink, despite everyone clearly watching him descend the hallway and stairs to the outside. Not the kitchen.

He grabs his jacket, throws it on and opens the front door, letting the heat seep out and into the cold February night.

Against his better judgement, George takes a seat on the steps leading to his door. He pats his sides down, feeling the box against his hand. He fishes it out.

It’s a box of cigarettes, he knows he shouldn’t. But honestly, there is a lot of things he shouldn’t do in the world, yet he still does them. And thus, the logic applies to this situation too.

“You need a lighter for that?”

George snaps back around to look at the doorway. There she stands in all her glory. Illuminated by the soft light of the indoors. George blinks, savouring the moment, remembering it for the days she isn’t around.

She turns around for a moment, throwing her own jacket over herself, and fishes a lighter out. She hands it to George.

He lights his cigarette.

She hovers her hand over his package.

He nods.

She takes one.

George hands the lighter back to her, and there they sit. Two friends. One so in love with the other it’s laughable. The other so alienated by that thought alone. Two strangers.

The chill air hugging them close, letting them huddle into themselves in hopes of fighting against the cold. A losing battle.

But neither moves.

However, she talks.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

George looks at her, she’s already looking at him.

“I can only say the same to you.”

“Touché.”

And like that the subject is left hanging. Last year they would have confronted each other about the bad habit. But that is last year, and so many things have changed.

“I didn’t think I would come down here again you know.” She tells him. “Not after the new year’s party.”

Ah, the new year’s party. The one George hosted. The one where he got into a shouting match with Wilbur. The one that ended with him losing a long-time friend, and a sort of co-worker turned friend.

“Not your finest moment.” She smiles at the absurdity of the memory. George hates it. Because for him it was the moment, he realised she would never see him the way she sees Wilbur. Or any other guy for that matter.

But what irks him the most, is that Wilbur was the one who made him reach the conclusion. That Wilbur, of all people, made him come to terms with his feelings.

“Not my finest moment.” George agrees. Or admits? He isn’t completely sure which it is, but it’s there for the night to welcome, and the night does.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I was disappointed in you.” He looks at her, she turns her head away.

“I know George.”

“I didn’t take you for being someone who falls for the bullshit he spews.”

She doesn’t say anything, he knows she should. So does she.

“And where are you gonna end up when you break up? The muse for his next song.” George snorts. It’s harsh, but he’s right.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.” She snaps at him.

“I don’t.”

The night falls silent once again. The only sound coming from their staggered breaths.

George trashes the last of his cigarette bud against the front steps. She looks at his hand, then at him.

“Why did it have to be him?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Why did it have to be Wilbur of all people?”

“… I don’t know.”

“Please, anything. Just any reason. I get it’ll never be me. But why did it have to be him?”

She flickers her own cigarette away, following that with her eyes now instead of George.

“Out of everyone you could have had, why did it have to be him?”

Her eyes are back on George, he can see the way she’s clearly trying to muster up a response that will satisfy him. Yet he can’t help to keep pressing on.

“Was it because when you looked at him, he thought he could be so much more than me?”

It was no secret, ever since she had started seeing Wilbur. After George himself had introduced the two, George and Wilbur had sized each other up, at every single chance they got. From view counts on twitch, to subs on YouTube, to financial gains, to arcade games. Anything they could compete in, the two had had a sudden interest in beating each other.

“Was it because he wasn’t me?”

Her breath hitches.

George Freezes.

She scrambles.

George watches.

She’s standing.

George sitting.

They wait.

“I think it’s time I leave.”

George swallows.

She nods to herself. Before repeating. “It’s time we leave.”

Before George knows, her phone is out of her pocket. A number dialled, and steps are coming down the stairs.

Wilbur has arrived. He looks down at the single cigarette bud beside George. Then he looks at George.

“You know those kill right? It’s a bad habit.”

But George doesn’t listen, he barely ever does anymore when the guy opens his mouth. Instead, he does what he does best. He watches. He watches her. He watches her as she grabs Wilbur’s hand. He watches her, as they become them. And he watches them, as they disappear down the street.

While George says he’s disappointed in her.

George is only disappointed in himself.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

#georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #cc!george #cc!george x reader #mcyt x reader #cc!wilbur soot #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #cc!georgenotfound #female!reader #delias own writing #georgenotfound x you

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geekgrizz · 3 years

Text

High School AU Senior!Karlnapity adopting Freshman!Ranboo (saw on the ol tl)

They meet because Ranboo joint like a quarter way through the year, so he has no where to sit and he goes and sits in the corner Karl, Quackity, George (and sometimes Sapnap and Dream) for lunch

When Karl, Quackity and George get there they’re a little baffled because literally no one sits there usually (that’s why they picked it)

But they sit down and Quackity happily introduces himself and prompts Ranboo to talk to them

This then leads to things Karl slipping to talk to Ranboo and give him a cupcake he made in food when he’s by his locker later that day and Quackity bumping into him on the bus and sitting by him

Ranboo sits in the same place the next day, Sapnap and Dream sitting with them this time, he’s a bit more chatty that day as he gets more comfortable with them, Dream and George slipping off to ‘pop to the toilet’ halfway through lunch

By Thursday Karl comes to Ranboos locker and asks him if he wants to go to Sapnaps after school because that’s where they usually hang out and it’d be cool if he came

So they start this little dynamic where Ranboo will eat lunch with them and then go hang out with them after school at Sapnaps

(which is how he learns that for when hes not home Sapnap secretly made Karl a copy of his house key so they can just go in and too his room)

Then one day the next week Ranboo turns up at Sapnaps really excited because he had made his first proper freshman friends, Tubbo and Tommy

He sat next to Tubbo in a couple of classes and they’d been getting on really well and then Tubbo had invited him to go hang out with him and his best friend Tommy after school

Karl gets really excited and starts rambling questions like “oh should we bake cookies for him? you can give them to him tomorrow” “should we introduce ourselves him? to let him know you have back up if he’s mean”

Quackity looking at him and rolling his eyes muttering “you don’t introduce 2 nerdy seniors and their chad to someone you’re trying to befriend”

Sapnap ignoring them both and just patting him on the shoulder and a “well done kid”

Ranboo stops sitting with them at lunch as he sits with Tubbo and Tommy now but he still goes to Sapnaps with them quite often after school and talks with them in the corridors

One day the three boys are at a party and while George and Quackity are trying to convince Dream and Sap to do another round of shots Karl gets a tap on the shoulder and finds himself looking at Wilbur exhasperatedly holding out Ranboo to him while Tommy and Tubbo sway on either side of him

“is this one yours?”

“yes i believe so”

“good can you take him because I have to get these ones in without Dadza noticing their state and I don’t think I could manage a third one”

Ranboo smiling sheepishly down at him

Sapnap sees him and offers up a high five and then a thumbs up before Quackity turns around and frowns “did you come to your first party without us”

“you didn’t invite me”

“that doesn’t mean you can just ditch us”

Quackity uses the excuse of Ranboo being there to make everyone (except Karl) have shots because they can’t have him miss out on the proper party experience

This then leads to beer pong because according to Sapnap the boy has to be taught

Finally leading to George’s guess the cocktail game

But Karl won’t let Ranboo have much because he doesn’t trust George’s skills enough

Finally Karl finds himself dragging Quackity out the door as Ranboo leans on him for support and Sapnap stumbles in front for the 5 minute walk to the car

He drives them to his house because his parents are out that weekend, and shepherds them up to his room, Ranboo passes out in his big beanbag and the other three taking the bed

The next morning Ranboo wakes up to the sound of a thump and then running and Karl’s exasperated sigh before he sarcastically shouts “try to be louder next time you run to the sick bowl eh Quack”

He groans as his head bangs and tries burying his head further into the bean bag but Karl must notice because he walks over and sits on the floor next to him

“would you like some water and aspirin?”

Ranboo just groans in return but Karl got the message because a couple of seconds later he’s poking him and holding out a glass and some pills

He takes it and gulps all the water as Sapnap comes over and leans on Karl and groans

“why does he get special treatment”

“maybe because it’s his first hangover you big oaf. anyway i left the packet of aspirin on the bedside table with my water bottle you can get it yourself.”

“maybe i want your love and care put into it”

“okay babe i’ll consider it next time”

“fuck off you know it’s my turn to be sober next time”

“the way you’re talking sounds like you don’t want me to cook the waffle mix mom made because i told her you were sleeping”

“i fucking love mrs jacobs”

#my inconsistency of capital letters is appauling #anyway should i do more high school au hcs #or a proper fic 👀#OH NO IVE JUST HAD A REALLY GOOD IDEA THAT IMMA HAVE TO DO #dsmp #ranboo #karlnapity #karl jacobs #sapnap #quackity

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star--anon · 3 years

Text

Work

I suck at signing asks smh Anyway, @ticklish-wilbur, *slaps tag on fic*

*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✩ ೃ༄*ੈ ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✩ ೃ༄*ੈ ☪ ೃ༄*ੈ ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ

The dying sun slowly sank into the horizon. Its blood seeped into the sky, tainting the darkening blue into a deep scarlet. The red poured onto the clouds, making it look like tiny puffs of cotton balls were drenched in blood and were now floating in the sky. From the other side, the moon poked its head up from the ground, almost like it was cautious. A few stars were accompanying the moon, sticking to it like ants to a leaf in the middle of a pool.

A few birds landed on the trees outside Wilbur's window, brightly chirping into the growing dark. Red sunlight spilled onto the birds' azure feathers, painting them a rich violet. A thin breeze shyly whispered its way into Wilbur's room, circling around the dreamcatcher hanging on his wall (a gift from Niki) and rattling the beads and feathers. The cold wind slid on his skin, causing goosebumps to erupt. The trees outside swayed to the current, waving their branches as they sang along, creaking and groaning out songs as the wind picked up speed. The leaves rustled against one another. Combined with the birds' chirping, the branches' singing, and the wind's whispering, it sounded like the forest outside was alive.

Despite the beautiful concert playing outside, the whole of Wilbur's concentration was focused on something else entirely: the scrolls in front of him.

His charcoal pencil ran across his papers in a furious frenzy. Letters and words were hastily scratched onto the dry parchment as Wilbur rushed to respond to every letter and finish every important paper he had been given. The only time his pencil ever paused was for him to grab a piece of flint and shred off a few pieces of wood whenever the charcoal started to dull.

He was so invested that he didn't even hear his bedroom door creak open, or notice someone walking in. It wasn't until a worried hand gently gripped his shoulder was he aware of his company.

"Wilbur," murmured Phil, "I think a good idea would be to put the pencil down and go to sleep."

"In a minute," Wilbur mumbled back, shrugging the hand off.

"Wilbur, you've been working nonstop for the entire day..."

"I'm busy."

"You should take a break."

"Not right now."

"Wilbur, got to sleep. Now. Put the pencil down and take a break."

The boy frowned at the sudden edge to Phil's voice, but he didn't stop his work. Other than shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he didn't react, clearly deciding that the papers in front of him were more important.

"Wilbur," Phil repeated, adding more weight into his tone. "Wilbur, put the pencil down."

"Just give me a moment. Please? Just a moment?"

"No. No, because if I give you a moment, you're going to ask for another. If I give you another, you're going to ask for a minute. If I give you a minute, you're going to ask for an hour." Phil reached out and slowly slid Wilbur's papers out from underneath his hand. Wil sighed in defeat and let it happen, although he stayed hunched over his desk and his grip on his pencil only tightened. "I meant it, Wilbur. Put the charcoal down."

"Give me a reason why I, and independent twenty-four-year-old, should listen to you?"

"Because I'm your dad and I'm telling you to."

"So what?" And perhaps it was because Wilbur was currently fueled by nothing but forty minutes of sleep and eighteen bottles of speed potions (sugar and netherwart mixed together creates a caffeine-like effect), but he was starting to feel oddly woozy. Random confidence burst into his sleep-deprived mind. He stuck his tongue out at the avian. "You gonna tell me to go sit in the corner, Dadza?"

Phil chuckled. "Nope. Even when you were young, sitting in the corner wasn't a punishment for you. But there was one surefire way to get you to listen.

"Yeah? I don't remember that." Wilbur scrunched up his face, pretending to think. His body stiffening and hands moving to cover up his stomach betrayed his knowledge of what Phil was talking about. "Was it maybe counting the three-EEE! Phihihihil!"

"Starting to remember now?" teased Phil.

"Fuhuhuhuck youhuhu!"

"Here, maybe this'll help you remember." Phil delved his hands into Wilbur's armpits and swirled his fingers around, tormenting the sensitive nerves. "Anything?"

"Y-Youhuhu're gohohoing t-toho mahahahake mehehe drohop ihihihit!" squealed Wilbur. Good charcoal pencils didn't come by often; wood and charcoal often being quite the luxury items. Wil wasn't in the mood to drop his favorite pencil and risk breaking the delicate charcoal stick inside the wood casing.

"Yes, charcoal pencils are very expensive," Phil conversationally said, almost like he had read Wil's mind. "Don't drop it because I'm not interested in spending another stack of emeralds on your pencils. You'll have to make-do with a quill and squid ink."

"I-Ihihi'm tryhyhyhying!" Wilbur just about shrieked when Phil moved to poke, prod, vibrate, and tease his ribs in any way. "Ack! W-Wahahahait! Phihihihil, cohohohome ohon, thihihihis ihihis chihihildihish!"

The avian didn't say anything back, only speeding up his fingers, which earned another shrill squeal. Wilbur thought he was playing the quiet game to further torment him until he heard Phil softly whispering, "...four... five... six... seven..."

"Ahahahare youhuhu fuhucking couhuhuhunting?!"

Phil flashed him a toothy grin. "Gotta make sure you have the right amount of ribs, right?"

"Whyhyhyhy thehe fuck-"

"Language," Phil warned. Then he paused. "Dammit, you made me lose count."

"Wh-Whahat?" giggled Wilbur.

"You made me lose count," he repeated. Phil shrugged. "Eh. We'll just start again. One... two... three... four..."

"Oho, youhuhu ahahahsshole!" Wilbur cackled. He tried to say more, but Phil dug his fingers in between his ribs and squeezed with his other hand, and his laughter went silent.

Smirking, Phil leaned closer to Wilbur, who was feebly trying to thrash his way off his chair. "I'm slooooowly making my way down your ribs... You know where I'm going next, don't you~?"

A sharp gasp came from Wilbur as his laughter slowly turned audible once more and he managed to get some air into his lungs. Still laughing helplessly, he reached out and slammed his pencil on his desk, no longer caring about the delicate charcoal breaking.

Despite this, Phil still pushed his shirt up and began to mercilessly tickle the scar on his stomach. What little break Wilbur had managed to get was immediately erased.

"PHIHIHIHIL!" the poor boy shrieked. "ST-STAHAHAHAP! I-IHIHIHI PUHUHUT IHIT D-DOHOHOHOWN!"

"I noticed," Phil simply replied. Whether or not Wilbur heard him, he wasn't sure.

The sun had left the sky, now completely hidden by the horizon. The moon inched its way up, clawing at the darkness for purchase. Thousands of stars were dragged along with it, each speck of silver light chasing the moon, as if captivated by its beauty. Without the sun around to illuminate them, the clouds faded into the dark. With the clouds no longer visible, the skies looked as though someone had spilled glistening white glitter over a pool of ink.

The birds outside Wilbur's window had left their earlier perches and flew home to sleep. The raging wind blew through the trees, ripping at the leaves and snarling loudly. The trees responded equally as loud, screeching at the gale. This was the thunderous part of the forest's song, where the gentle hums of the birds were gone, leaving only screaming and wailing from the wind and leaves.

Despite the beautiful concert playing outside (and the absolutely stunning moon who I've been trying to get the attention of for years), the whole of Wilbur's concentration was focused on something else entirely: getting away from Phil, who was blowing raspberry after raspberry on his scar.

(not revised so I'm sorry if this is terrible HHHHHHHH-) -🌟

#can you tell I got lazy at the end?#altered the idea just a little bit but eh #it's technically supposed to have Tommy and Techno in it and whatnot but I got lazy and didn't wanna write them in #:P #Starburst! 🌟#Starburst's fics #lee!Wilbur Soot #why do I always write lee!Wilbur #lee!Wilbur is so cute though #ler!Philza #mcyt #dsmp #mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #tickle fanfic #my fanfic #SFW tickling

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Sweater Weather

part xxi

[see tags for tw]

Regulus liked the cubs. Finn was a little out there maybe, but Logan, off of the ice at least, was steady and put together.

Leo had snorted when he’d told him what he thought. “Interesting take.”

They didn’t seem to mind having him around, although there wasn’t much time lately when Regulus didn’t feel like an intruder on something. Living in his brother’s house when he probably wanted to be alone with Remus. Leo inviting him over to nights that would probably feel and go differently if he wasn’t there.

But he didn’t feel unwelcome. Just out of place. Which was surprising, given the fact that he was a Snake. Had been. He still felt like he was one, anyway. A Snake. An intruder. Out of place.

And now the Lupins were here to stay and Regulus was self-aware enough to realize that he was seeing for the first time what was probably the most loving family in the entire world.

“Julian, sweetheart, you have to let Sirius rest. He’s got some big days coming up, as you well know.”

Julian looked up at his mother.

Regulus wasn’t sure if Julian liked him all that much yet. Although, he didn’t really blame the kid. When you were little, the rivalries seemed like a full-blown military crises. That was how the Lions had seemed to him, at least. A real beast, with sharp teeth. He imagined that, for Julian, he had venom and a tail that rattled.

“But—” Julian looked up at Sirius, who was playing goalie in one of the make-shift nets that he had set up in the living room.

“It’s okay, Hope,” Sirius said. “We’ll go another half hour.”

“You’ll go until dinner, which is in ten minutes,” Hope said.

“Well, it that case, bud, we should go help set the table, non?” Sirius stood straight from his goalie-crouch. “We can play more later.”

“Really?” Julian said, clutching his hockey stick.

“Mais, oui. Allez, let’s go help your dad and Re.”

It left Regulus alone with Hope in Sirius’ large living room. Hope was a mother. Regulus didn’t know how to put her smile and that role together yet. He watched her put her hands on her hips and look around. Even Regulus had to admit that the living room was mostly empty and bland. Sirius clearly didn’t know what to do with a house besides sleep and eat there.

“Well,” Hope said, and then smiled at Regulus. “Needs some brightening, huh?”

“Probably.”

Hope nodded. “Probably. Come on, let’s eat.”

Regulus followed her through to the dining room where Lyall was setting plates of salmon and rice down, along with a large salad. As Sirius sat down, Julian all but climbed over Remus to get the chair beside him. Remus’ eyes found Regulus’, maybe by accident, but he smiled, and Regulus did, too, a little. Regulus gestured to his own chair, on Sirius’ other side, and moved across the table instead. He sort of wanted to sit beside Hope, anyway. He wasn’t sure why.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Hope said, passing him a glass of water and a bread roll.

“Thank you.”

Family dinners had not been like this. He found Sirius’ eyes, and the thought seemed to pass between them.

Really, the place was crawling with families. Not Sirius’ house, but Gryffindor. Hogwarts Arena. Regulus had watched Logan be practically tackled by someone who could only have been Leo’s mother, with her bright blond hair. Leo’s father, also blond, had walked right up to Pascal, shaking his hand. He had a sharpie in his back pocket and a wide smile. Finn also looked just like his mother. Haley O’Hara and her dark red hair, cropped in a pixie cut, shared her sons’ easy smiles, but her startling blue eyes were her own. Ramsey O’Hara was dark haired and brown eyed, and always video taping. Alex had been wearing a Heart-throb-O’Hara t-shirt. Marius and Iva Tremblay were quieter, but Iva looked just like her son, and kept pulling Logan into her arms, her eyes almost relieved when they looked at her son’s smile. The Tremblay sisters were anything but quiet.

Regulus, while surrounded, had tended to keep close to one wall. The quiet kindness of the Lupins was welcomed.

Regulus also kept to himself during dinner, listening to the conversation and taking seconds—and thirds—of the food.

“Hungry teenage hockey player,” Lyall laughed, raising his wine glass towards Regulus. “That’s something I remember, eh, Remus?”

Remus smiled and glanced at Sirius. “I don’t think the hungry part stops after teenage years, dad.”

Sirius glanced up, mouth full. “No, it doesn’t.”

Regulus smiled, watching as Julian seemed to be trying to time his own bites with Sirius’. He remembered being that obsessed only, back then, it was just a little brother thing, not a Captain Sirius Black thing.

“So,” Hope said, leaning on her elbows and lacing her fingers. “For the dinner tomorrow. Re, why don’t you and Sirius go get the food?”

“Please let me go with,” Julian said. “Please, please, mom.”

“You’re on house duty with me. Plus, Remus and Sirius will be going right from morning skate, so—”

“He can come to morning skate with us,” Sirius said.

Remus nodded. “Yeah, mom, it’s no problem.”

“You’ll both be working, who would—”

“I don’t need to be watched, mom,” Julian begged. “Please let me go.”

“Julian, it’s not a babysitter, it’s just that—”

“I can…” Regulus glanced around. “Not watch him, but…we can hang out.”

The table went a little quiet. Regulus felt a little dizzy, like someone was going to swing at him. He knew that wasn’t true.

“I’ll probably go to the rink and watch, anyways,” Regulus continued into the quiet, looking at Julian, then Hope. “I’m going out with Leo after, so.”

“Leo Knut?” Hope said and then smiled. “Oh, I’m so glad you two are friends.”

Everyone kept saying that.

“Well, Jules?” Hope said. “Alright?”

“Okay,” Julian said hesitantly, eyes on Regulus. Regulus flashed him a tight smile and then looked back down to his plate.

He volunteered for clean up duty, just so he didn’t have to make conversation. It wasn’t awkward, but he wasn’t used to these laughter filled living rooms. He wasn’t used to Sirius’ laugh. It threw him off guard.

“Regulus?”

Regulus looked up from the sink to see Remus behind him in the kitchen window’s reflection. He was all shades of night, until Regulus turned around and he was warm again. Remus looked almost nervous, leaning back against the refrigerator.

“What’s up?” Regulus said.

“I just,” Remus glanced down the hallway, then shrugged. “I know Julian’s…not exactly warmed up to you. Thank you for offering anyway.”

Regulus turned back around to the soapy water. “Don’t worry about that. I get it. I’d probably be the same.”

“It’s just that, it isn’t you. It’s—”

“Remus, I know what it’s like to be brought up in a hockey household. There’s a whole lot of loyalty. And sometimes loyalty doesn’t change easily,” Regulus glanced back once more. “Don’t worry. I understand. I’m a Snake right now. He’s a Lion. I’m someone who betrayed their brother, and he’s someone who loves his brother more than anything.”

He could feel Remus’ eyes on his back.

“I understand,” he said again, and turned the water back on.

“Well, thank you again. I think you guys will like each other a lot.”

Regulus nodded. “I hope so.”

It was the Lions’ last practice before they would get on a plane for game one against the Snakes. Regulus knew he would be taking a risk, traveling with the team there. But he wanted to show that he wasn’t afraid. Part of him even hoped that he ran into Snape, or Riddle, or Malfoy, or any of them. Just to show that he was better off. The other part of him didn’t want to care what they thought.

Regulus could picture the stadium and the entire, green crowd that hissed and cheered. With the drums of the music, a single spot-light would appeared on the ice, and with each successive beat, one of three very familiar words. The Snakes’ motto.

ALWAYS

PURE

HOCKEY

Toujours pur, Regulus could remember his father saying to them growing up, accompanied by the slap of pucks against the boards, and endless drills. Toujours pur, toujours pur—

Someone tapped his arm, and Regulus looked up to meet Leo’s gaze. He was lacing his skates.

“Ça va?” he said, which made Logan look up.

“Oui,” Logan said, then noticed Leo looking at Regulus, not him. “Oh. Ça va?”

“I hope you beat them,” Regulus said. “That’s all.”

“Well, yeah,” Logan laughed, wrapping tape around his socks tightly. “Me too.”

“Regulus,” Julian came up to them. He was in a Tremblay jersey today and Logan wrestled him into a gentle headlock, making him laugh before looking back up at Regulus. “Sirius is going out to warm up can we please go watch?”

Leo smiled. “Take him out.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile a little, too. “All right. Allez.”

Sirius was doing shooting drills, rubbing absentmindedly at his healed ribs. It was nice to be around the sounds of the ice again. Sirius’ basement didn’t count.

Remus was on the bench, sitting on the boards with his feet dangling near the ice. Every once in a while, Sirius would swoop by for a kiss, or to say something that made Remus laugh. The other boys were filing out slowly. Finn and Logan were passing a puck back and forth while Leo dropped into the splits, stretching and talking to them. Evgeni and Jackson were ramming each other into the boards and laughing. The atmosphere would change once Coach came out, but Regulus now knew that it wasn’t like in Slytherin. There was never any silence. The laughter never went away, not even when they were working hard.

“Why did you leave?” Julian asked suddenly. He was standing nearly pressed against the glass, watching. They made eye contact in the slight reflection from the lights. He looked just like his older brother, something people always said to Regulus, too.

“I…” Regulus took a breath. “I wanted to leave.”

“Why?”

“I wanted better for myself,” Regulus said carefully. “I think we should always want the best for ourselves, non?”

“What if you can’t have the best? My brother wanted to play hockey.”

Regulus glanced over at Remus, laughing as Kasey squirted him with his water bottle, and thought of the right words.

“What’s best isn’t always attached to a thing or a person?” he tried. “Sometimes it’s a good attitude. What I meant was, I thought I was stuck. Then, my brother showed me I wasn’t.”

“So, Sirius is the best for you?”

“Sirius showed me that I could be the best for me. But, oui, Sirius is pretty great. So is your brother.”

“I know that,” Julian said, and rested his forehead against the glass again. He was quiet, and then, “You said bad things about Sirius. I saw it on youtube.”

Regulus chewed on his cheek. “Yeah.”

“But then you said good things.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you say sorry?”

Regulus swallowed. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

Sirius skated up fast and hard and stopped in front of the glass, knocking his helmet over where Julian had his forehead. Julian laughed and knocked gently back.

“Ça va?” Sirius asked, glancing at Regulus.

“Oui,” Julian replied and Regulus nodded.

“Hey Jules,” Sirius said, loudly to be heard over the noises of practice. “Tell Reg to make you un sandwich de la rondelle in the kitchen.”

He skated away with a grin at Regulus, who couldn’t help but smile back. The words brought back a memory that he hadn’t thought about in a long time. It left Julian looking half expectant and half skeptical.

“Allez,” Regulus sighed as he pushed himself up from his seat. “I’ll let you in on a Sirius Black tradition.”

“Okay,” Julian grinned.

The Lions kitchen was a strange sense of déjà-vu. It was the Snakes’, only awash in brighter colors.

“What’s a sandwich…sandwich ron…”

“Sandwich de la rondelle,” Regulus repeated, opening cupboards until he found bread and peanut butter, and swiping a banana from the counter.

“It’s a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” Julian said.

“Oui, sort of. But—Les bananes,” Regulus held up the fruit. “Sirius use to fry them in cinnamon and honey and then they would become darker because they’re caramelized. They would look like little hockey pucks, or la rondelle.”

“I want one,” Julian said. “Please.”

Regulus laughed. “I thought you might.”

Sirius watched from the bed as Remus pulled on a long sleeved white shirt. The cotton clung to his strong shoulders and he shook the sleeve out over his watch. Sirius could see his star necklace through the thin fabric. Remus pushed his sandy hair off of his forehead and looked up at the shelves again, patted his dark jeans, and then turned the closet light off. He stopped when he stepped out and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not exactly what I call dressed for guests who are showing up in—” he looked at his watch. “ten minutes.”

Sirius stretched out against the bed. “You look good, Loup.”

“I’m wearing jeans and a shirt.”

“I said you look good, I don’t care what you’re wearing.”

Remus smiled and knelt on the mattress. “Then in that case, you look good, too.”

“I’m naked.”

“Then what’s that on your face?”

Sirius groaned. “It’s tradition.” He touched the dark beard on his cheeks and chin. He was keeping it short and neat, rather than letting it grow wild like some of the other guys, but he still felt a little self-conscious. “It isn’t that bad…”

Remus crawled forward until he was poised over Sirius’ body. “You know you look good.” He leaned down to brush a kiss over Sirius’ cheek, feeling the coarse stubble against his lips. “But this place is going to be filled with families in two seconds.”

“Hm,” Sirius leaned up to kiss Remus’ throat, and Remus felt the scratch there, too.

“Parents,” Remus warned.

Sirius kissed along Remus’ jaw.

“Dumo.”

Sirius sighed. “We should get dressed.”

Sirius, forced into a pair of tight jeans and a button down by Remus, opened the front door to see Pascal standing there with Katie on his shoulders.

“Bonsoir,” Pascal said. “I come bearing hungry children and the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Sirius laughed and Celeste slapped Pascal’s chest. “Well, there’s a Leo Knut cooking with a Hope Lupin so I think we’ll be able to help with that.”

“Is Logan here?” Adele said, pushing her way past her family.

“Yeah, living room. What, don’t care about me anymore?”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a hard hug before disappearing into the house.

Celeste gave Sirius a smile, looking after Adele. “We are still missing Logan being just downstairs. You were a hard loss, too, you know.”

“Tremzy,” Katie said and pointed forward.

Logan appeared with Adele under his arm and Pascal ducked down so Logan could take Katie into his arms.

“Salut, Katie,” Logan pressed kisses to her cheeks until she laughed.

Sirius watched them wander off towards the kitchen and then looked back at Celeste. “I think it goes both ways.”

“I am going to see if the chefs need any help,” Celeste said, and followed Logan and her daughters towards the kitchen.

Sirius watched them for a moment, and then turned back to Pascal. “Where are Louis and Marc?”

“Sleepover,” Pascal laughed and stepped inside, handing Sirius a bottle of wine. “I guess playoffs aren’t that cool anymore. Katie seems to like hockey the best.”

“She’d make a killer center.”

Pascal scoffed. “Killer, eh? Been hanging out with Remus.”

Sirius smiled. “Of course.”

“What about your younger one?”

Sirius closed the door and the warmth of the house picked up again. “With the younger Lupin down at the rink.”

“Oh? They are friends now?”

“I was surprised, too.”

Pascal patted Sirius’ back as they came through to the kitchen. “Kids are quick to forgive.”

“Blow on the spoon first,” Leo was saying to Katie. “So you don’t burn your tongue, and then tell me what you think.”

Logan laughed softly, kissing Katie’s cheek again. “Our entire dinner is riding on you, mon coeur.”

Sirius watched as Katie blew very carefully on the waiting bolognese sauce, and then let Leo feed her the spoon while she held onto Logan’s neck. His eyes found Finn next, who had a look on his face that Sirius knew well. Sirius looked at Remus, holding a glass of wine and talking to Eloise Knut and Hope.

Sirius could get used to this.

“Where are your parents, Dumo?” Sirius asked.

“I’ll fly them out when we win,” Pascal smiled, knocked on Sirius’ head, and then put a hand on his shoulder. “You know… Sometimes I want to shove you back in my basement and never let you out. But then I remember you’re not the same boy you were.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth lifted. “That would be threatening, coming from someone else.”

“Yes, but you know what I mean.”

“Ouais,” Sirius said, and put his hand over Pascals. “I know.”

“This has been a hard season. Your team is going to work hard for you.”

“Pascal,” Sirius said softly.

“Dumasha,” Sergei’s gruff voice called, and he appeared beside them, clapping Pascal on the back. “Come play bubble hockey with me. I’m beating all the kids. Omg.”

“No, he’s not,” Thomas yelled.

“I’ll win,” Pascal warned.

“We’ll see, you lumberjack,” Sergei patted Pascal’s thick beard before retreating back towards the living room.

Pascal tussled Sirius’ hair once before following, and Sirius watched him go. His memories of living with the Dumais’ felt at once distant and like yesterday. The earliest ones were covered with ice. He had been terrified of his own family and his new one. The later ones went from ice to slowly melting frost to new, spring soil. Pascal had done that. And Celeste and the kids. And Arthur, and the team.

Remus.

Sirius walked over to where he was standing with the two women.

“Well, if it isn’t Sirius Black,” Eloise smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Hi, honey.”

Sirius, a little surprised, laughed. “Hi, Mrs. Knut. Hope.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” Hope said. “Nice party we have here.”

“Thanks to you and Remus.”

“Oh,” Hope laughed and rubbed Sirius’ shoulder. “You have a beautiful house, it should be filled with your loved ones. A truly beautiful house…”

“Mom,” Remus laughed. “You can stop telling Sirius his house is beautiful.”

“Then I’ll tell him he’s beautiful. And probably so will your father. Sirius, my husband loves you.”

“Tell me about it,” Eloise said. “Wyatt’s walking around with a sharpie, so if you see him be ready.”

Sirius huffed out a laugh. “I’m ready.”

“He loves you. Not as much as Jules, of course,” Hope said.

Remus gestured to himself. “Um.”

“Of course, not as much as Remus,” Hope and Eloise smiled at each other. “I’ll leave you two. I’m going to find that Potter baby.”

Eloise hummed. “I’m gonna go convince Leo’s boys to move home with him for the summer.”

Remus smiled. “I don’t think you’ll have too hard a time.”

“Oh, I know I won’t.”

Sirius pulled Remus against his side, leaning back against the wall to look out at the scene that the kitchen was. Remus settled against him.

“You know,” Remus began, and then cut off.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked. He looked down at Remus’ thoughtful smile.

“Whether or not things…happen…”

Sirius laughed, knowing that this was Remus’ way of getting around setting him off in a round of superstition.

Remus looked up at him. “We’re doing pretty great.”

“I was just thinking that.”

“Good.”

Remus tilted his chin up, obviously wanting a kiss, and Sirius complied.

“I can’t believe we’re getting on a plane tomorrow,” Sirius sighed.

“Is Regulus still coming?”

Sirius nodded grudgingly. “No matter how many times I tell him it might be a bad idea. Even Minnie says—”

“He lost his rookie season,” Remus said. “I think he needs to be a part of this.”

“He’ll get—harassed by reporters.”

“So will you, and you’re still going.”

Sirius smiled and pulled Remus in closer, wine glass pressed carefully against the small of his back as he looped his arms around him. “That’s different.”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Is it?”

“I’m the Captain. I’m just worried.”

“A true Captain’s job,” Logan said as he passed them, Timmy and Olli in tow.

“I am,” Sirius said after them, and when he looked back down it was to be kissed by Remus.

“Dinner!” Leo shouted, Hope beside him putting a stack of plates out. “Y’all come get it.”

“I’m gonna die,” Finn sighed, stopping beside them. “The accent is so here right now and I’m just—I’m gonna die.”

“Harzy, are you talking to us?” Remus asked.

Alex looked up from where he was standing with Kasey and Natalie. “Just ignore him, he’s a fucking puppy.”

“I’m pep-talking myself,” Finn took a long sip of his drink. “For life.”

Alex patted his back. “Okay, Fish, get it together.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“I’m not yelling at you.”

“You’re yelling. I’m telling mom.”

Alex scoffed as they walked towards the food. “You can’t tell mom.”

Sirius snorted and pulled Remus away towards the plates to serve themselves.

Game one was rough and fast and disappointing. When Sirius had first skated out, the hisses had been deafening. Remus had watched from the bench with his nails digging into his palms. The Snakes had won 3-0. Close, but not enough. Kasey had made forty saves. Elias Cook had taken a puck to the knee and Remus knew even before evaluating him that he might be out for the run. Snape had been vicious. But so had Sirius. The locker room had been crowded, the families wonderful but adding pressure, and Remus was more than happy to watch Sirius collapse on their hotel bed. He was still in his game suit, but it was rumpled. The steely color had faded as the adrenaline did, and he looked tired.

“Fuck,” Sirius sighed, and raised his chin to look at Remus. “Why are you standing over there? C’mere.”

Remus laughed and chucked his bag down before falling beside Sirius onto the bed.

“Hell of a game,” Remus said. “It’s just one game.”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, and then was quiet. “Riddle’s a good goalie.”

“So is Kasey.”

“No, I know, I just… we really couldn’t get a single shot in. I’m just happy we weren’t at home. God, Kasey’s probably just…kicking himself right now.”

“Nat’s here. And his family. She’ll talk some sense into him.” Remus said. After a moment, he groaned and sat up again. “Speaking of home, we should pack for the flight back tomorrow.”

Sirius groaned. “Come back.”

Remus laughed. “We have to be out the door at six tomorrow, and I know you won’t want to get up early to do it then. Just put your suit away, that’s all you brought anyway.”

“I just played an entire hockey game.”

Remus suppressed a smile as he took one of Sirius’ ankles and pulled off his shoe. “The world doesn’t know you’re like this.”

“Non.”

“I could tell them, you know.”

Sirius laughed. “That you undress me?”

Remus smiled. When both shoes had clunked to the floor, he straddled Sirius’ hips, hands going to his belt. “You’re right, maybe not.”

Sirius smiled and let his head fall back with a groan. “Fuck.” Remus let Sirius pull him down against his chest. “You’re so hot, but I’m so tired.”

“Oh, no way we were not about to have sex. You are waking up at six in the morning and you’re playing the game of your life the next night.”

Sirius let out a content sigh. “Hm.”

Remus pressed a kiss to his neck and then reached for the buttons of his shirt.

“I think we have to go to the net harder,” Sirius said thoughtfully as Remus pulled him into a sitting position.

“I think we need to get a handle on our power play,” Remus said, pushing Sirius’ shirt over his broad shoulders. He kissed those, too. “I think Coach should put Finn back on it. He’s ruthless when he wants to be.”

Sirius hummed. “Yeah. Him and James do well together, too. Will you murder me if I watch some tape?”

“You’re going to sleep.”

“I just want to see that second period play. You know—”

“Tremz was off-side and, no, Carrow didn’t push him,” Remus smiled when Sirius made a face. “Believe me, it happened right in front of me.”

“We were going to score.”

“I know,” Remus bent to kiss the scar on Sirius’ cheek, then the one on his lip. “But that’s hockey.”

Sirius kicked his pants off once Remus stood to go to his own suitcase. “I wish we had come out of the gate strong, that’s all.”

Remus snorted, tugging off his shirt. “Nice media lingo, there.”

Sirius rolled onto his stomach with a groan, then pushed himself into a standing position. A moment later, Remus felt his chest against his bare back, their skin warm against each other.

Sirius’ hands stroked over Remus’ sides, dipping into the muscle that cut along his hips. “You haven’t even asked me how my ribs are,” Sirius said against Remus’ temple. Remus could hear the smile in his voice. “You always ask.”

“I know you’re better,” Remus leaned against him, tilting his head to the side when Sirius began to kiss his neck gently. He put his hands over Sirius’. “I know we didn’t win, but you were amazing tonight.” He turned in Sirius’ arms and wound his fingers in his dark hair. "You see everything out there, huh?”

“I try,” Sirius said softly.

“You do,” Remus kissed him, then again and again. “Don’t get in your head, baby. You’re good.”

Sirius let out a breath, lips against Remus’ cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and held him there.

“Just tape for, like, ten—“

Remus pressed in closer. “Nope.”

Sirius’ laugh rumbled against his cheek. “Come to bed with me, then.”

It was better to be back in Gryffindor. Remus didn’t want to admit how much of a weight it was off of his chest to be away. To have the team away, and Regulus. It had been fine. Regulus hadn’t been bothered. Not yet, at least. They would be on a plane back to Slytherin tomorrow, win or lose.

“Shitter-McFucks,” Thomas said loudly. “We gotta win this game.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Sergei sighed.

“I don’t know,” Thomas said, and he looked thoughtful. “They come to me. Makes sense though, right?”

Sergei made a barely affirmative sound and returned to taping his stick.

“T,” Remus said, smiling a little at the conversation. He held out Thomas’ shoulder pads. “Fixed it.”

Thomas took it and clutched it to his chest. “Sick, thanks, Loops. I love you.”

Remus smiled and turned to the room. “Does anyone need anything?”

There were a few murmurs of no, and Remus let out a breath. “Okay.”

Remus glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes until they had to be out for warm ups. Sometimes it was strange, thinking about the Snakes in this very building, doing the same thing they were. Taping sticks, getting dressed, stretching. Remus’ eyes found Regulus, who was sitting in Sirius’ stall while Sirius stretched out on the floor. They were talking intently, no doubt about the game. Regulus seemed to be drawing plays out on his palm, Sirius nodding along, then pointing, as if to correct something. Remus smiled at the sight, then walked over and crouched by Sirius’ shoulder.

Sirius looked up, hands around his ankles stretched in front of him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Remus replied, and glanced at the door.

Sirius blinked. “Oh.”

“And I’m out,” Regulus sighed and stood.

Sirius stood, too, adjusting his snapback and catching Remus’ fingers. “Yes, yes, now?”

“I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

Sirius cursed under his breath, grinning. “Re…”

He already looked flushed with it—with just the thought—and Remus wanted him. Badly.

Sirius was on his heels until they got to the PT room, looking carefully out into the hallway before shutting the door and turning the lock. He was still smiling when he turned, gently taking hold of Remus’ hips and backing him against the exam table.

“I love you,” he said into his first kiss, and then, into the second, “how do you want me?”

Remus hooked his fingers into the band of Sirius’ spandex and turned them so that his back was against the table, cushioned by the padding. Sirius leaned down to kiss along Remus’ neck.

Remus reached down to cup Sirius’ cock through the thin material of his spandex. “Just like this.”

“Jesus,” Sirius breathed. “Fuck, we—how much time?”

“We have time.”

Remus knelt on one knee, then the other. He pulled the spandex away to reveal Sirius’ cock, half hard but twitching as it filled. Remus’ heart beat faster, his own cock beginning to press out against his thigh.

Sirius’ hand was gentle against the back of Remus’ head as he took him into his mouth, sucking on the damp head.

Sirius half laughed, half moaned, brows drawn together a little as Remus took him down further. He was fattening up to full now, slick and heavy in Remus’ mouth.

“Ah—” Remus looked up to see Sirius’ head fall back. The tension fell out of his shoulders. His back arched a little, defined abs flexing through the thin material of his black undershirt. “Yeah—”

Remus sucked harder, keeping a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking softly in the way he knew Sirius liked. Sirius was already spilling thinly over his tongue, bitter and warm. Remus pulled off to the head again, pressing his tongue to the slit hard and making Sirius jolt.

“God, Remus—” Sirius choked the words out, cock slicking itself more as Remus reached down to cup his balls and stroke behind them. Sirius widened his stance, welcoming the touch. “Ouais—yes.”

Remus stilled and pressed his hands behind Sirius’ hips, coaxing them forward gently. Sirius blinked down at him blearily. “You—you want me…”

Remus pushed Sirius’ hips forward more insistently and looked up. Sirius’ fingers tightened in Remus’ hair.

“Merde,” his hips fucked forward, almost on their own. “Re.”

And Sirius complied, fucking himself into Remus’ hot mouth in slow strokes. Remus was hot and aching in his own pants, and he reached down to push them under his balls. He moaned at the first touch, and Sirius picked up his pace. Remus’ breathed in through his nose, smelling Sirius’ slight sweat, and fucked his fist in time to Sirius’ hips. He was heavy on his tongue. Sirius’ breathing was heavy, eyes dark and hair curling out form under his hat. He was gorgeous, and strong, and Remus didn’t care if they won a silver cup when he had those silver eyes.

Sirius’ mouth was open, eyes tight with pleasure as he watched his cock sink in and out of Remus’ mouth, watched Remus’ hips move at the same time. Remus moaned as he pressed his palm against his own head, fingers tight around his shaft.

“Mon—I’m gonna—”

Remus felt flushed and turned on by Sirius standing there, half dressed before a game with his swollen cock looking like that. It was only a few more strokes before Remus felt Sirius begin to come in his mouth. Sirius’ hips stilled, abs flexing in, and Remus bobbed his head, sucking him through it.

“Yes, yes,” Sirius whispered, head dropped back again. He stopped breathing and grit his teeth. He pushed his cock into Remus’ mouth once, twice. “Ah.”

Remus pulled off when Sirius made a soft, sensitive sound. Sirius took one look at him, chest heaving, and dropped to his knees, too.

“Baby,” Remus’ voice shook, fist quick on his own cock. He needed to come so bad.

Sirius just pushed at his shoulders, laying him back until he was against the carpet and Sirius had him fully in his mouth. He worked Remus with his mouth quickly, groaning around him, and Remus’ hips arched off the ground towards the heat. He came hard, forcing his eyes to stay open so he could watch Sirius.

They lay there for a moment, Sirius panting with his cheek against Remus’ hip, before he pushed himself up and positively beamed at Remus.

“Nice and clean,” he said, and surged up and kissed Remus. “I fucking love you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck and licked into his mouth. “I love you, I love you. You’re going to play so well.”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss, biting at Remus’ lower lip. “I am now.”

Sirius pulled back with a questioning noise when Remus started laughing into their next kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Remus laughed through the words, stroking his hands over Sirius’ cheeks. “It’s like an entire new experience kissing you with this thing.”

Sirius grinned and rubbed their cheeks together. “You like it a little bit, I know you do.”

Remus smiled into the kiss, but didn’t answer, instead carefully tucking Sirius back into his spandex and patting his butt. “See you out there, Captain.”

It was Sirius’ first home game back and playing. Instead of the normal pump up songs, the Lions’ had a special pre-game video on the jumbotron. When the lights went down, it played the first notes of Back in Black. At first the song’s notes were spaced out, remixed. It was hard to tell what the song was, echoing through the stadium. As soon as the crowd figured it out though, they went wild, and then an image of the back of Sirius’ jersey, slow-motioned, played of him walking down the darkened tunnel to the ice, his last name shining in glossy letters.

Dum.

Fast clips of Sirius’ tricky, skating feet.

Dum-da-dum.

A goal from the season, beautiful and impossible—until Sirius did it. Remus’ heart pounded.

Dum-a-dum.

The crowd recognized the song. Hogwarts roared.

Dum-a-dum-dum.

Remus laughed on the bench, popping a piece of gum in his mouth.

“Marlene’s a genius,” he shouted over the noise to Moody.

“She is,” he laughed gruffly.

The video continued with the rest of the team, highlights from the season and snippets of interviews. Finn and Logan crashing together after a goal. Leo’s bright blue eyes, focused from behind his mask. We’re ready, his accented voice said. We feel ready. James and Sirius’ famous one-two plays. Evgeni, mountainous and bear-like. Pascal and Logan. The French Canadian father and son, came Frank’s voice, and then the clip cut, bleeding together into a whole. Pascal and Sergei, helmets pressed together. Thomas, proud and tall, flipping a puck right between a goalies legs. Walkie-Talkie, walking the walk!

A waving rainbow flag being waved by numerous fans.

Remus felt tears building in the back of his throat. He wished he could see Sirius right then.

Frank’s voice over the speakers. Lions fans. Welcome to the Stanley Cup Finals.

He drew out the next words in the way he always did. Your Gryffin-dor Li-ons!

The Snakes skated out for warm-ups when the Lions did, insignificant and dark in their black away uniforms. When the lights came up, the Lions were out, Kasey raking up his crease and the others doing a lap on their side of the rink. Remus saw Snape’s eyes flick over from behind his visor, but that was all.

Arthur was bent over his calling card with some of the assistant coaches, motioning to various players.

“How does it feel?” Remus asked Kasey when he skated over to the bench for some water while Leo warmed up in goal, too.

“It feels good,” Kasey said. “It—”

James skated up fast and stopped hard. “Blue.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. “James, you ask me this ever game, I really don’t know how…” Remus trailed off and crossed his arms. “This is a superstitious thing. Isn’t it.”

James, looking only a little guilty, smiled. “Blue?”

Remus handed it to him. “You are all insane.”

“Bliz,” Leo said, opening the bench door. “You’re back in.”

Kasey tapped his butt with his blocker and skated back out.

“Is he okay?”

Remus looked back at James. He had his contacts in, adjusting one with a knuckle. “What?” Remus asked. “Who?”

James looked over to center ice where Sirius was tracing the Lions’ logo with a puck. Remus could see fans filming him—or maybe it was Kuny, down on the ice with his legs in the air, stretching.

“You know how Cap gets,” James said. “How much did he beat himself up over the last few nights?”

Remus sighed. “Oh, he tried to watch tape.”

James snorted. “Of course.”

“Didn’t let him, though. I all but wrestled him into bed—no.”

James’ face was already lit up.

“Not like that, Pots.”

James laughed loudly, reaching with his stick for a puck to take back out with him. “Sure, Loops, sure.”

Logan and Finn were standing near middle ice together, waiting for the wrap-around shoot. Logan was laughing at something Finn was saying. He took his helmet off and put it back on again, like he did with his hat.

“Cute, huh?” Leo said, and when Remus looked over at him, he grinned.

Remus laughed. “Proud of yourself?”

“Very.”

Remus found Sirius again. He was at the far side of the rink, pushing a stick over the glass for a little kid.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

The horn went to signal the end of warm ups, and the team skated back towards the bench so that the ice crew could get rid of the shaved up ice.

Sirius jumped the boards in front of Remus, and Remus could already see the game taking over his expression. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, tapping various teammates and talking fast directions to them. Go hard here, ease off this, cover Malfoy on the power play…

When the lights went down for the national anthem, it felt sudden. Remus’ heart jumped in his chest. Sirius glanced at Remus as he pulled his twelve necklace out from within his jersey, smiling before bowing his head and holding the pendant to his lips. Finn had his hand on Logan’s shoulder, Logan was holding his necklace, Leo was behind both of them, close and shuffling from skate to skate.

Remus looked over to the Snake’s bench. They were still. Their eyes were ahead. He thought about Regulus, up in the Lions box with the other families, looking down at the red and green. He wondered, not for this first time, if Sirius’ parents were here. He hadn’t asked. He didn’t want Sirius looking for them, even subconsciously.

Things didn’t get interesting until halfway through the second period. The Snakes were mirroring Sirius’ line, calling Snape’s out whenever Sirius jumped the boards. Malfoy was on him like a magnet, hammering him into the boards and getting penalties called on himself for slashing.

“What kind of fucking strategy is this?” Finn said before climbing back out onto the ice for their fourth power play of the period. Sirius was circling with one of the refs, talking with his hands, his mouthguard in one of his palms.

“Alright, boys!” James yelled. “Alright, alright, here we go!”

Not single goal had yet to be scored and the crowd was anxious for one, shouting at every moment a Lion was close to Riddle’s net.

Sirius, seemingly giving up on the referee, set up across center ice from Snape. He spat something that made Severus sneer and Remus—Remus couldn’t deny that it sent a new wave of heat through him. Sirius was all hockey now, and his eyes were on the Cup. The Stanley Cup wasn’t in the building yet, it was too soon, but it would be. Remus’ throat got tight when he thought about it. He’d never been this close. He never thought he’d ever be this close.

The puck dropped. Sirius scooped it back to Finn and darted into the Snakes’ zone, wrestling against Malfoy still. He shouted for James but Snape intercepted the pass, sudden and sloppy in his strokes, and carried it back to the center zone. Malfoy, though, was too busy with Sirius. The puck went careening towards the boards, momentarily alone, before Finn was there, catching it and carrying it towards Riddle. He faked once, weight on his toes, twice, and then shot it above Riddle’s left shoulder. The goal horn blared in red lights. His hands went up and so did Sirius’. Logan shouted from beside Remus on the bench.

“Fuck, Harzy,” he said, and Leo and him shared a smile.

Remus clapped with Hogwarts, glancing up at the jumbotron to see the score change from 0-0 to 1-0. Finn jumped the boards and Logan pressed their helmets together in the split moment that they met while leaving and getting onto the ice. Finn was sweaty and grinning.

“That’s what we’re doing,” Thomas shouted. “That’s what we’re doing.”

Sirius stayed out and Remus smiled. He wanted a goal, Remus could tell. He and James circled each other as they talked, heads close together so the others couldn’t hear or read their lips.

Remus patted Finn’s shoulder. “Good getting us going, Harz.”

“I’m good at getting boys going, Loops.”

Remus snorted and Leo shoved him.

Riddle was making a slow lap around the crease, eyes on Finn on their bench, then moving over, all the way across the ice, to Kasey, re-setting, too.

Remus looked between them, and when he returned to Riddle, he saw that he was spitting words at Snape and pointing to Kasey.

The lights changed, calling a TV break.

“Mon loup, c’est bon?” Sirius said. He put a foot up on the boards, stretching.

Remus hesitated, then nodded. “I—yeah. Your ankle? Is it stiff?”

“Non, just stretching,” Sirius smiled. “Worrier.”

“Hey,” Remus tried to smile back, but he was watching Kasey approach the bench. “Hey, Kase—”

“I saw it, too, Loops,” Kasey said, squirting some water into his mouth and glancing over at Riddle. “Believe me. That guy’s eyes practically glow like the ones on his mask.”

“Just watch out for any bad plays,” Coach said. “That goes for everyone.”

“I mean,” Kasey shrugged. “If he tries to get a goal by ramming into me, it’ll be no goal.”

“I’m not worried about the goal, Bliz,” Coach said. “I’m worried about you.”

One corner of Kasey’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Well, shucks, Coach.”

“Alright,” Coach nodded. “Let’s be careful and play hard.”

There was a chorus of yes, coach, and Pascal’s line went out for the face-off.

“What exactly did you see Snape and Riddle do?” Sirius asked, back in the locker room. He was smiling and wearing the Lions hat token that Logan had given to him after Sirius scored two goals in the third. They had won game two 4-2. The series was tied for now.

“Nothing really,” Remus was bent beside him by James, taping up a sore calf. “It was a look but…”

“But that’s all it really takes with Riddle,” James said. “Thanks Loops, that feels better.”

“Go easy on it, no running on the plane.”

“I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you really do.”

“Well, I am a responsible father now.”

“I didn’t see them try anything,” Sirius said, glancing over at Kasey. “But I’m not sure that makes me feel better.”

Remus sighed, running a hand over Sirius’ knee and using it to push himself up. “Me neither. But, hey.”

Sirius looked up at him, and Remus tilted the brim of the hat back so he could lean down for a quick kiss. “We won.”

“Lupin love,” Thomas shouted.

Remus laughed. “Do you need something, Walker?”

“Sirius!”

Remus didn’t have time to look behind him before Julian was barreling into his back, arms around his waist and gazing at Sirius.

“Those goals were so good.”

Sirius smiled. “Thanks, Jules. Wanna wear the hat?”

“Really?”

James leaned in. “Be warned of the countless sweaty heads that has adorned. We can’t wash it.”

“I wanna wear it!”

Sirius placed the hat on Julian’s head while the other families filed in. Remus saw Alex give his brother a tight hug, Leo’s dad going up to clap Logan on the back. Kris’ daughter went running to him, and he scooped her up with kisses. Julian had become fast friends with Regulus and was running to show him his hat where he was standing with Leo.

Sirius rose, locking his hands around Remus’ lower back. “Want to come cool down with me?”

Remus smiled, palms on his chest. “Oh, we’ll cool down, will we?”

“Yeah,” Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, beard dragging against his skin. “You know. Relax all of our tense muscles.”

Remus wound his fingers in Sirius’ sweaty hair. “I love you. Go shower.”

Sirius pressed a last, soft kiss to Remus’ mouth. “Don’t leave without me.”

“Never.”

Sirius’ house was warm and quiet when Hope unlocked the door.

Hope turned to Sirius once they were inside. “I made some spaghetti for you, Sirius, I thought you might be hungry.”

Sirius laughed. “Hope, tu es un ange.”

“He said you’re an angel,” Remus smiled. “And he’s right.”

“Remus makes the best post-game sandwiches,” Sirius pulled him close. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”

“Oh, no, that’d be Lyall,” Hope smiled, pulling a covered dish out of the refrigerator and turning to the microwave. “Lyall and Remus always made sandwiches together after his games.”

“And me,” Julian said, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table. “Right dad?”

“Every game,” Lyall smiled. “Best part of my day, bud.”

“Can I go skate, mom?”

“Julian Lupin, you are going right to bed. Do you know what time it is? I’ll let you miss school for this, and your bedtime, but there is a line, darling.”

“But we’re having spaghetti.”

Hope raised an eyebrow. “Did you just play a full game of hockey?”

Julian sighed. “No.”

“Okay then,” Hope stroked Julian’s hair. “Go get ready for bed, okay? Take dad with you.”

“C’mon, J, we’ll watch some of the post-game.”

Remus watched Julian and his dad trudge upstairs then turned to Hope. “Mom, let me do that. We have a long flight tomorrow again. Why don’t you go rest up, too?”

Hope looked between them and laughed, understanding. “Well, if you insist. I’ll just leave you two alone then. My son the chef, that’s new!”

Remus snorted. “It was new, like, four years ago!”

Hope smiled and kissed Remus on the cheek, then Sirius. “See you two tomorrow.”

When the microwave beeped, they shared the bowl with two forks, ankles tangled below the table.

“Are you really worried?” Sirius said after a few beats of silence. He twirled his fork in the noodles and held it out to Remus. “About Kasey. About Snape.”

Remus took Sirius’ fork gently into his mouth. “I don’t know. I know he’s worried. He’s nervous about his thigh. I can tell. It’s like you, early on with your ankle. Timid.”

Sirius nodded slowly. “Do you think I should talk to him?”

Remus shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. Kasey’s strong, but it’s always good to hear you’re good.”

Sirius’ smile was sly, if not a little sleepy. “So I learned today.”

Remus smiled. “Eat so we can sleep. You frickin sweetheart.”

Sirius laughed and pulled the bowl towards him to scrape the last of the noodles towards him and into his mouth. After putting it in the sink, he bent over the back of Remus’ chair, arms across Remus’ chest.

“Bed?”

Remus tilted his head back for a kiss. “Bed.”

Slytherin was cold and the Snakes were vicious. Remus looked up at the second period clock running down as he prodded at Sirius’ left shoulder. Sirius was breathing heavily, Moody holding cotton to his bleeding nose.

Malfoy was in a similar state, being led to the the penalty box.

“Finally got tired of him being all over you, eh?” Remus said, then, more firmly, and loudly to be heard over the Slytherin crowd, “Do you have to go back to the locker room with me?”

“Non,” Sirius yelled, batting Moody’s hand away and swiping his own across his nose. The bleeding had stopped. “I’m good, allez.”

Remus nodded, replacing Sirius’ shoulder pad and pulling his jersey back down over his shoulder and arm. “All right, go.”

“Love you,” Sirius breathed, and then hopped the boards to go to the penalty box. Remus couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched him and Malfoy spit words at each other through the glass.

Coach leaned in. “He okay?”

Remus nodded. “He’s fine.” He looked back over at the penalty box, at Malfoy inside. “Blondie’s really not gonna leave him alone this whole series, huh?”

“That’s their way,” Coach grumbled. “Stick on you like leeches. Sirius knows how to handle it.”

Evgeni and Jackson made their way back onto the bench.

“Just take your time, the word will come to you,” Jackson was saying. “Kuns, you can’t get frustrated like that.”

Evgeni grumbled something in Russian and Jackson just nodded along.

“Nado, score goal,” he ended with.

“I’m trying.”

They were down three nothing, and Remus looked back at Kasey. He was tense, in his own head. Remus would give anything to be able to talk to him.

The puck dropped, Logan on the face-off. They were four-on-four, Sirius leaning forward in the box, probably hoping for a jack-in-the-box goal. Snape carried the puck in easily, past Olli, deking around Pascal only to be crushed to the boards by Timmy. He lost it for a second, but Logan flubbed a pass and then it was on Carrow’s stick.

“Shit,” Remus swore under his breath.

Carrow was a ruthless, fast skater. He pushed towards Kasey, closer and closer.

Despite everything, Remus wasn’t expecting him to ram into Kasey, disregarding the puck entirely, and knocking them both into the net.

The goal horn blared and Carrow didn’t even look up as he skated off the ice and down the tunnel. He knew he was too dirty to be allowed back in the game. Some of his team members patted him on the back. Remus felt sick.

Remus leaped up—and Kasey stayed down. The ref was blowing the whistle hard.

“Fucking interference!” James shouted, voice breaking with how much he had been at it. “Fuck!”

Kasey hit the ice with his stick as he rose, slowly. So slowly.

Sure enough, the referee skated out, hands in a cross, signaling that there was no goal.

Just as suddenly, the crowd started to sing. At least, at first Remus thought it was singing. Then, he recognized the sound.

“Winter,” the crowd was saying in a long, drawn out drone. It was haunting. It was over and over again.

Winter, Winter.

They were taunting him. Kasey was lapping his goal. He was favoring one leg. He was keeping his head down.

“Coach,” Remus said quietly. “Coach, he’s hurt.”

“Let’s see what he does,” Coach said. “Let’s see, Kasey’s not reckless.”

“He might be if the entire crowd is taunting him into it.”

“We have ten seconds left. He can last ten seconds.”

“We’ll keep it away from him,” Thomas said. His eyes were dark. “Jesus, Kase.”

The ten seconds went, and the end of the second period rang out.

Kasey was down on one knee in his crease, head bowed. Then, he lifted his gaze and looked right at Remus. Remus could only just make out his brown eyes through his mask. Kasey gave a slight shake of his head.

Walking back down the tunnel was a blur. Sirius was holding his hand until they had to part ways. Remus looked up at a TV as he passed and stopped when he saw himself. It was the moment from earlier. He had his hands up Sirius’ jersey, checking his shoulder, while Sirius had his head turned close to him, mid-sentence, blood dripping down his face.

“Black and Lupin, close on the bench this game,” the show host was saying and Remus scoffed. “And what looked like a bad hit on Lions starting goalie, Kasey Winter, by the Snakes tonight. Lucky for the Lions, they don’t have too bad a rookie. Nineteen year old Leo Knut, Louisiana born…”

Remus kept walking, pushing open the door to the quiet room where Kasey was waiting for him on his back on the exam table. He had his bad leg stretched out.

“Hi Kase,” Remus said softly.

Kasey had an arm over his eyes, and he pulled it away slowly. “Hi, Loops.”

“You okay? Can I get you some water or a bar or something?”

Kasey shook his head. “No. Let’s just—let’s get this over with. Just tell me.”

Remus bit his lip, but nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna take your shorts off, alright?”

Kasey nodded, and Remus worked quietly until he was stripped to his underarmour and Remus could feel his strong muscles and tendons. Remus was gentle and quick. Kasey wasn’t a player who liked things sugar coated.

“Well?” Kasey asked in a rough voice.

“It—it has a light tear, I think,” Remus said softly, and Kasey closed his eyes. “I need you to rest Kase. Don’t think I haven’t seen you pushing yourself. I know it’s frustrating.”

“Barely,” Kasey grit out. “I’ve been barely pushing myself. It’s—it’s just not—”

There was a knock at the door, making them both look up.

Natalie poked her head in, and the moment Kasey saw her he pressed a palm over his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath of tears.

“Kase,” Natalie was rushing forward, the door falling shut behind her. She rubbed a palm over his chest, the other in his hair. “Hey, baby, you’re all right.” She kissed his forehead. “You’re all right.”

“I’ll give you two a second,” Remus said quietly, and she nodded.

“Thanks, Re.”

Remus felt overly hot and heavy when the door closed behind him. The hallway looked busy and loud with staff members.

“Remus.”

Remus turned at Arthur’s voice, meeting worried, stern eyes.

“Tell me,” Arthur said.

“These injuries are tricky,” Remus managed. “They’re easily aggravated and…”

“And I should get Knut warmed up?”

“Yes,” Remus said, even though it hurt. “Yes.”

Arthur pressed his lips together and they stood there for a moment, the chaos around them.

“I’m going to go see Bliz,” Arthur said. “Tell him he’s good.”

“Natalie’s in there. I think you should give him a minute.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay. Go see the boys. I’m coming back in five to go over strategy.”

“Okay,” Remus managed a tight smile, and headed for the locker room.

Sirius was on him in a moment, sweaty and stripped down to his pads and socks.

“No, it isn’t good,” Remus said before he could ask. “Where is Leo?”

“Warming up,” Sirius said. “Fuck. Re—”

“Loops?”

It was Evgeni.

“Blizzard is okay?” he asked. The rest of the locker room quieted to listen.

Remus shook his head. “He’s okay but he’s done for the season.”

Remus turned to Sirius and took his hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Sirius said. “Are you?”

“I feel horrible,” Remus said. “I should have watched him closer, I should have—I knew how hard he was being on himself, I’ve been there.”

“Re, this isn’t your fault. Did you see that hit? Carrow’s out of the game and he’s gonna get a suspension for that. It was completely insane.”

“They’ll just replace him with Bones. You know they will, that’s their whole strategy. They don’t care how hard the hit is—”

“They don’t care about their players,” Regulus cut in. He was standing with Pascal and offered a humorless smile. “Whatever makes the game easier.”

“And yet their motto is always pure hockey,” Pascal shook his head.

“I need to find Leo.”

“He’s with Finn and Logan by the bikes,” Regulus said.

Remus nodded, pressed a palm to Sirius’ cheek, and then turned away.

Leo was stretched out on the floor in his spandex, Logan and Finn talking with him as they kept their muscles warm on the bikes. They looked up when Remus entered.

“Is Nut in?” Finn asked.

“Yes.”

Leo sat up. “Is Kasey…” but he trailed off at Remus’ expression. “Fuck.”

“Bliz,” Logan sighed, raking his fingers through his sweaty hair before hanging his head, elbows on the bike handlebars and feet slow. It had been Logan’s missed pass.

“It isn’t your fault, Tremz. We just have to hope for the best. But get warm, Leo, okay? You can see him after.”

Leo nodded. “Okay. Not my first play off game or anything. No pressure. At least my family is here.” Leo let out a long breath and touched his forehead to his knees. “My mama would cry if she missed this.”

Remus looked to Finn and Logan. “You guys good?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, Loops, we’re good.”

Remus pushed back into the hallway, hoping to go back to Kasey, only to be met by Alice. He tried to duck out, but she walked with him.

“Coach says he’s in,” she said, gesturing to the door closing on the cubs. “He told me to come to you for news on Kasey.”

“Slight tear in the adductor longus,” Remus said as they walked down the hall. When Alice just gave him a look, Remus sighed. “Inner thigh.”

“So, his repeating injury.”

“Yes, but,” Remus stopped, hand on her shoulder. They were at the locker room. “Do me a favor, and don’t put that in the press statement. I don’t want him hearing that right now.”

Alice’s expression softened. “You’re good to them, Lupin.”

Remus was already pushing open the door. “They’re good to me.”

Out on the ice, Leo was met by hisses and jeering. Finn and Logan kept close to his side while he marked him his crease, circling and tapping his posts.

Moody chuckled from beside Remus. “Not superstitious, eh?”

Remus patted Sirius’ shoulder. “That can only last so long when you’re around this one twenty-four seven.”

Sirius turned. “Quoi?”

“Nothing,” Remus said, and shared a knowing look with Moody.

“Where’s Bliz?” James asked.

“Watching with Natalie and his family in the recovery room,” Remus said. “He’ll be okay, you guys focus. Win this game for him.”

Remus looked out at Leo, at Pascal on the face-off.

The referee dropped the puck, and the third period of game three began.

#tw: light injury #sweater weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove sweater weather #wolfstar #wolfstar au #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #finn o'hara #Leo knut #Logan tremblay #Jackson nadeau #evgeni kuznetsov #Thomas walker #pascal dumais #harry potter #hockey!au

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honey-coloured-passion · 3 years

Text

It’s A Secret (Sapnap x Reader)

first fic first fic!

summary: Dream convinces you and Sap to join a competition where the loser gets exposed, but nothing ever goes as planned when your favorite boy is involved : )

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard in my life.” you laughed, rolling your eyes at Sapnap and Dream’s antics. “C’monnn it’ll be so funny the viewers will eat it up!” Dream cooed while you groaned “you say that cuz you always get like more views than Sap and I combined!” To which Dream choked out laughter through his familiar wheeze. “Oh come on, how much money for you to do it?” you heard Sapnap die from laughter over the call at Dream’s bribe before he piped up, “whoever gets exposed you’re buying dinner Dream,” and Dream immediately agreed. “Absolutely worth it, you in y/n?” and you shook your head, “why the hell not I guess.”

You started up your stream, adjusting your headset nervously as you watched chat speed up at the title “Least viewers gets exposed vs Dream and Sap” all confused as to what was going on as their three favorite streamers all went live simultaneously. “Gooooood day chat what’s up!” you grinned, thanking a couple gifters and waiting to see Dream pop up in team speak to give the challenge information. “You guys better stick with me today, I don’t wanna lose the secret challenge,” you laughed, noticing Sap and Dream joined the channel.

“Ready to learn the rules dear viewers?” Dream laughed maniacally. You watched your chat going absolutely crazy.

“Here’s how it works, we are gonna stream for thirty minutes doing everything we can to get the most viewers, then the person with the least at the end has to tell a secret they wrote down on stream, and trust me guys they’re all sooo good.” Dream wheezed while Sapnap chuckled before continuing. “We all told our secrets to George who didn’t want to stream with us cuz he’s lazy but it works cuz now he’s our keeper, so it’ll be fair and George can confirm all the secrets are crazy,” Your chat was losing it’s mind asking you what your secret was.

“So let the view-competition begin” and with that, Dream left the call. “Sap you gonna stay and hang or leave?” you asked, racking your brain to find a way to get hella viewers as soon as possible. “I’ll hang” Sapnap answered to your relief. “Good I can farm your viewers then,” you teased with a giggle. Then your phone started to buzz, and you saw Dream was tweeting out the information and begging for people to come to his stream. “Oh hell no, chat help me out!” you laughed, going to tweet on your own account.

10 minutes in: Dream 68k, You 43k, Sapnap 39k.

“Sapnapppp I’m so excited to learn your deepest darkest secret” you cooed with an evil laugh while Sapnap punched your minecraft character. “Whatever I’ll clutch up, work smarter not harder dear y/n,” you could hear the playful tone in his voice, swallowing the butterflies that kept trying to surface. “How can you work smarter if you barely have a braincell dork!” you teased, beginning to crit out his character when he realized, pearling away with a screech. “You do NOT want to play this game with me I’ll destroy you,” he ate a golden apple then began running towards you axe in hand while you screeched, running away.

15 minutes in: Dream 65k, Sapnap 45k, You 44kk.

“Sapnap how the hell did you convince four different channels to raid you in the past five minutes WHAT” you pouted with a laugh, knowing you could beat him in viewers if you just got one or two more raids. “Mhm a magician never reveals his tricks,” you rolled your eyes though your chat kept spamming “why is y/n blushing so much?” and “SIMPNAP SIMPNAP” because Sapnap was helping you decorate and finish the design of your house. You had to agree with chat, he was adorable, bringing you flowers, collecting the exact type of wood you needed, helping to fill your chests, you were beginning to forget about the competition and just enjoy his presence.

20 minutes in: Dream 68k, Sapnap 46k, You 45k.

“Oh my god it’s so close between you guys” Dream wheezed as he joined your voice channel. “Hey Dreammm wanna send me some stray viewers?” you giggled while Dream denied you. “Mhm no but maybe you can ask Mr. Simpnap to send you some of his? Heard it’s not the only thing he’s been giving you and I figured I’d crash the date.” Dream teased, his tone dangerous while Sapnap exclaimed, “hell no I’m not losing this competition and I am not a simp, especially not for y/n” Sapnap drew out your name, you could hear the smile you adored dancing on his lips. Chat was going crazy, though it was pretty well known how close you and Sapnap were due to the two of you always being on call together and just being found on the SMP hanging out, it was rare the two of you gave the fans this much flirting in one stream. Not that there weren’t hundreds of Y/N x Sapnap compilations on youtube of people pointing out how you and Sap had been in a TeamSpeak room together alone for five hours straight, or him getting defensive of you on the SMP, or him constantly complimenting your skill during MCC’s. Not to mention you always asking where Sapnap was, or someone else asking and you answering quickly, showing how frequently the two of you talked. Needless to say, he was one of your best friends, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from destroying him in this competition.

25 minutes in: Dream 78k, Sapnap 54k, You 51k.

“Hello to my new viewers! Glad you came back to support! Huge shoutout to Niki for the raid and all the raiders who stayed I love y’all!” Your palms were getting sweaty, you needed to get 3k viewers in five minutes or George was gonna drop one of your most embarrassing secrets to the world. “How are you feeling Miss Y/n?” Dream teased, he knew he was safe. “Shut up Dream if I lose I’m ordering some expensive ass food for you to pay for,” you shot back, making him die of laughter. “At least I’m not the one who’s gonna get exposed in front of like 180 thousand views,” you flipped off the camera with a grin, hoping he was looking at your stream.

28 Minutes in: Dream 78k Sapnap 55k, You 51k.

“Man I think it’s over what do you think Sap?” Dream teased while you laughed, still hopeful that something could happen in two minutes. “Eh I say give it another minute then we call it. You never know” Sap replied cooly. “Shut up you’re like 4 thousand people ahead it’s over for me” you pretended to cry, making Sapnap and Dream break into laughter. “You really don’t wanna lose huh.” Sapnap said, “um duh, this sucks,” you answered, quickly refreshing your view count.

Then something crazy happened.

~Sapnap is raiding with a party of 55k~

30 minutes, time up: You 110k, Dream 78k, Sapnap 0.

“WHAT” Dream was the first to scream. You did a triple take before screeching into the mic “SAPNAP WHAT ARE YOU DOING” to which he quietly replied, “I didn’t want you to be sad.” making your cheeks flush to an ungodly warmth. “Oh- uh does this still count? What’s happening?” you reached for your water bottle when George joined the call.

“Interesting ending, but I know the secret so I guess I’d say it makes sense” You froze. “What the hell does that mean?” You said, noticing Sapnap had turned on his camera function in the call. “O-ok, George you gonna announce his secret?” Dream tried to take control, noticing his chat was spinning out of control. George piped up, "I think it’s better Sapnap says it. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t chicken out,” Then Sapnap cleared his throat. “Well so uh, I guess my secret is...” You saw him look straight into the camera, his eyes felt like they were meeting yours.

“I like you y/n. Like a lot.”

Your jaw fell open, George and Dream began screaming and whooping, and your chat absolutely lost it’s mind, going so fast your chat function crashed. Your immediate reaction was to mute yourself on stream. “I’m muted now- Sap- Nick, are you serious?” you gulped, staring at Sapnap’s video while he couldn’t stop grinning. “You really think I’d do all this just to lie? No chance in hell. We can talk about it after stream but I thought it’d be fun to do it live. I can help you end stream if you want?” Your brain was flying high, your heart beating out of your chest, and your mods were begging for help.

“O-okay. Uh hey chat! Nice stream today, record high viewer ship thanks to uh- Nick- Sapnap, thanks to Sapnap um, I’m gonna get off now,” You took a few deep breaths, gaining your traction before continuing. You hovered your mouse over the end stream button but decided you had one more thing to say. Leaning close into the mic with a smile you whispered,

“Oh and Sapnap, I like you too”

~live ended~

checkout my other sapnap fic!

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #dteam #dream team x reader #dream #georgenotfound #dream team fanfic #dteam fanfic #mcyter #mcyters #mcyter fanfic #dream x reader #dreamwastaken

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heresathreebee · 3 years

Text

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta)

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him.

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.”

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.”

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.”

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.”

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky).

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.”

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!”

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco.

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you.

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself.

Or maybe not.

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes.

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.”

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?”

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high.

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?”

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.”

“I would never!”

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs.

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it.

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.”

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly…

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever.

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!”

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge.

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.”

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–”

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now.

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there.

Ok, something is definitely up with you.

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before.

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now.

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?”

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside.

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit…

“Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore.

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless.

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?”

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?”

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him!

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?”

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.”

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly…

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?”

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet…

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.”

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek.

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…”

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?”

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?”

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it.

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed."

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight."

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets."

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top.

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?”

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now."

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that."

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow.

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly.

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?”

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.”

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.”

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.”

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?”

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.”

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse.

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast.

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.”

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…”

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

#Dewey Finn #Dewey Finn x reader #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✒#black reader insert #🖤❤💛#dewey finn x female reader

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