#maybe one day? so far i have some small merch ideas

[porkofart]

Stickersheet (dream)idea

#honkai: star rail #honkai starrail #artists on tumblr #digital art #hsr #hsr jing yuan #hsr yanqing #jing yuan #yanqing #peanuts #snoopy #woodstock #man #maybe one day? so far i have some small merch ideas #just for fun i think i will draw them

[sparkles-and-trash]

Birthday Bird

notes: just a few hours late, look at me go! I love him so much, and couldn't not do a little something for his birthday!

summary: three birthdays, three gifts, and a lot of feelings surrounding it all, a Hawks birthday fic!

ao3 version

1

The first birthday Keigo can remember is one of the few truly happy memories of his childhood.

It was his fourth birthday, at least that was what his mother told him when he asked why she let him sleep in, which was highly unusual for him.

She promised him that she would do the best she could to make today a good birthday, because birthdays are special.

That was news to Keigo.

But he did understand that today had potential, especially considering the fact that his father was nowhere to be seen, which probably meant he was away doing some scary work for some scary people.

After Keigo made himself some cereal, his mom helped him get dressed in his least raggedy clothes, and did her best at trying to brush his hair, which didn't do much, but it made his tiny wings flutter with affection, and his throat chirp as a quiet 'thank you'.

When they get into town, his mom lets him go and look in all the windows he wants, his wings fluttering and eyes beaming at all the shiny things in the displays.

Then they go to the food market that has a lot of free samples, and just as Keigo almost starts feeling full, his mother quietly tells an ice cream vendor that it's his birthday, and he gets a whole scoop for free.

He can hardly believe that this day is real.

Just as they are starting on the long walk out of town and back home, they pass this little store with a bunch of discount items out front, and there he saw it;

The Endeavor plushie.

His hero, right here, in a tiny, holdable size.

Keigo didn't have to say anything, for once his mother noticed something.

She quietly told him to wait here, went inside the store, and when she came back out, she didn't seem to have bought anything, so Keigo didn't ask.

Keigo didn't think anymore of it until has was about to go to sleep, and his mom discreetly pushed the little plush into his arms and gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

Keigo couldn't believe it.

His mothered had wandered off before he had snapped out of it, but he knew she understood.

She got quiet when she was feeling a lot, too.

Keigo had trouble falling asleep that night, because he didn't want to close his eyes and take his eyes of his new possession, and wake up to find this day had all been a dream.

2

When Keigo turns 18, he is thrown out into the world like a baby bird about to take its first flight.

Except he's been flying for years.

And he is as far from being free as ever.

But what he does have, is his own agency.

And a fresh, new Hero career to dive head first into.

So, at the night of his eighteenth birthday, Keigo was not out celebrating with friends. In fact, he didn't have any friends.

He had been doing prepping work at his agency the whole day, and when he finally landed on the balcony of his brand new penthouse apartment, courtesy of the Commission, he was ready to hit the hay.

As his hand felt around the still unfamiliar wall for the light switch, and then found it, he realized there was a package left for him at the kitchen island.

A childish part of him thought maybe his mother had reached out to the Commission to send him something, but that idea quickly died as he flipped the card over.

Just some standard shit from the Commission.

Of course.

However, as he tore the paper off the package with this talons, he was actually taken aback with its content.

A small plushie, eerily similar to the one on his nightstand, but in stead of Endeavor, it was... him?

When he found the little note informing him this was the first, official merch made for him;

Wing Hero Hawks.

It felt oddly symbolic, the whole thing, and he hated himself for feeling like that.

He there the plushie in the nightstand drawer and tried not to think anymore of it.

3

Keigo's 24th birthday nearly passed without him realizing it.

But this time, it wasn't for the usual reasons.

Every year since his hero debut, Keigo had hid away on his birthday.

He hated the way the media blew it up, and all the extra attention from his fans and supporters made him uncomfortable.

If he were completely honest, he didn't like the reminder of how utterly alone he was, either.

But by his 24th, that had somehow changed.

Not unlike his on his eighteenth, he came back to his place close to midnight.

However, this time, his place was really his place.

It was smaller than the apartment the Commission had put him in, but he preferred it that way.

The place was warm, and homey, and Keigo actually liked spending time there.

That was all still new to him.

That night, he wasn't home late because of work.

He was home late because he had been out to dinner with Rumi, Hakamada, Taishiro, Aizawa and Yamada, who had all insisted on doing something to celebrate his birthday.

That had turned into drinks with Rumi, and just as he has started talking giving Dab-, no, Touya, his name is Touya, a call at the rehab center he knew he was staying at, Ruminator had decided it was time to call it a night.

When he entered his apartment, Keigo made sure to put all the little gifts he had gotten that day on his kitchen table to look at one more time, reading the cards and trying to take it all in.

Endeavor hadn't been able to join the dinner, but he had offered to take him out for lunch, and it had cost every ounce of self restraint he possessed not to ask about Touya.

At the end of the meal, Enji had given him a card that was signed by all the Todoroki's except Touya and a little envelope with a way too familiar handwriting on it.

From him, Enji had said.

However, Keigo new better than to open that when he was alone and bordering on the limit of drunk of his ass.

Maybe tomorrow.

But there was one more gift Keigo hadn't gotten to open yet, left at his office by his little protégé, Tokoyami.

Keigo dumped down on his couch as he started carefully unwrapping the small item, and when he pulled it out, he felt an odd, powerful mix of emotions overtake him.

A plushie.

A Tsukuyomi plushie.

With it was a note written with the tell tale calligraphy Tokoyami always used, telling Keigo it was all thanks to him that he had come this far, that he had gotten his first merch produced, that he had become the hero he always wanted.

If he were sober, Keigo might have held it together a little better, but as it was, the note was nearly drenched in tears by the end of it.

Still hiccuping slightly, Keigo headed towards his bedroom, still holding the plush, and made his way over to the nightstand, opening the drawer slowly.

He picked up the two plushies already inside, one old, withered and dearly beloved, and the other disregarded for the past six years.

He neatly sat all tree of them down on his nightstand, three hero plushies in a row;

All birthday presents, all representing a very different time in Keigo's life.

For the first time since in twenty years, Keigo fell asleep with a smile on his face on his birthday.

masterlist - wip list - ao3 - twitter

#hawks #hawks centric #keigo takami #hawks fanfic #takami keigo #tokoyami fumikage #happy birthday hawks #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #hawks fanfiction #hawks fluff #dabihawks #if you squint #rumi #Mirko

[mortumslab]

Remembering to be Human - Chapter 10

Hello everyone!

Here's chapter 10!

Chapter 10 tw: violence, gore, suicidal thoughts

Chapter 9 Link:

Trapped. Can’t get out. Not alone.

Not alone. Not alone. Feed. Must feed. Hungry.

Become. Become. Hungry. Feed.

“AH.”

Your scream wakes you. Julia’s hands are on you before you can fall out of bed. She pulls you back towards her. Breathing ragged. Heart hammering. The rush of blood is the only sound. Your head throbs. Eyes tight until the pain subsides.

“Arya, what happened?” Her voice is soft yet firm. Trying to ground you. It’s not working. You’re going to be sick.

Breaking from her grip, you bolt to the toilet. The bastard weaving your fate grants you a small mercy as you make it in time. Last night’s meal hits the toilet. Vomiting is normal for you. But the degree to which it has happened this week is concerning. You know the nightmare is related to your identity crisis. The thing inside is breaking through. It’s taking control. 

Julia is behind you. She’s held your hair out of the line of fire. Whatever is happening needs to be fixed soon. Or you may be yourself much longer. Do you tell Julia this? Worrying her may make her more emboldened. But it could get her killed, too. You don’t want her to die for you. Though you know she’s stubborn and would do it anyway. 

You would die for her.

“I think…” you swallow back the nausea. The headache is diminished now. A familiar pulsing. “I think something Heartbreak did. Or the Farm did. It’s inside my head. My telepathy. It’s like another conscience is in there.”

“How is that possible?” 

“I’m not sure. The experiments they did on me were nothing short of torture. Who knows what the damage is.” She helps you to your feet. Turning you to face her. She wraps you in a tight hug. Neither of you has an answer. But you both know who does.

“Just another reason to take the fight to them.” Your voice is muffled against her shirt. You realize a second late that the shirt is a Heartbreak fan shirt. “No way.” And your laughter echoes in the bare bathroom.

“Hey, just supporting my girl.” She smiles. “I have no idea why you have more merch than I do at this point, but I doubt you’re getting royalties.”

“I am not, but seeing that the public doesn’t fully condemn me is nice.” Your goal is to bring awareness to the corruption. Apparently, it’s working. You hadn’t paid much attention to your ranking in the officially unofficial Los Diabolos, but a cursory glance at breakfast tells you you’re in the top 10 of villains. Though commenters under your profile are in a heated keyboard debate about whether you’re a villain.

“We need to get you armor. And a name.” You look to Julia. She is ecstatic. Oh no.

“I have been thinking about this from the moment I started to suspect you were Heartbreak.” 

“Were you fangirling over me before you knew me?” You can’t stop the astonishment from covering your face.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.” She says with a wink. Confirmation, indeed. “But I have some ideas.”

“Go on, then, enlighten me.” You say with a hint of teasing. She’s truly serious about this. You weren’t sure if it was an empty promise but a clear head doesn’t seem to have dissuaded her.

“Well, I still need to use my mods. So I need to find something to distract from the similarities.” She’s getting excited. You can’t help but smile. “So I was thinking of a few names. And I was thinking about getting a sword.”

“A sword?” You almost laugh. But Charge has never used a weapon. Why should anyone suspect she’s anything more than another villain?

“Yeah! Something I can maybe make electrically charged.”

She’s onto something. “So a name?”

“I had a few ideas.” Then she lists them off. “Diode, Electropath, and then to keep in theme with you, Pacemaker or Defibrillator.”

“I like Pacemaker. It makes it sound like you’re keeping me sane. Which, I guess, is why we’re doing this.” She’s truly giving everything up for you and your crusade. “What did I do to deserve you?” That slipped out. Shit.

“Being you was enough.” She says it so simply it has to be true. Right?

“Sap.” You grumble, finishing your coffee. “I need to coordinate Rosie dropping off money to the Children’s Hospital and then into our funds. Then I need to get Mortum to work on something for you.” 

“What do we do in the meantime?” 

“Investigate, I suppose.” You groan, getting to your feet. “I should suit up and deliver the Koch files to the D.A. and then whatever Blaze recovered.”

“Want some help?” 

“Like before, let me make a show. Drama. Then I’ll escape in a cloud of smoke. Hopefully, no one puts up a fight.” Sighing. “I think I feel better after last night. I’ll eventually need to figure out how to be the brutal fighter and the, well, me. But that’s for after.” After you take down the Farm. Figure out whatever they put in your head. Because you know it’s not making you this way. You are this way. You were broken. Now you’re trying to heal. But it won’t happen until you’re alone in your own head.

“Okay, I’ll keep the Rangers on patrol. I’m sure we also have some work to catch up on.” 

“Hey, how do you keep getting in here? I have several security measures.” You had been wondering this since she’d been in here after your escape from the Ranger HQ. 

“Oh, you have a… security flaw.” A small electrical charge rolls down her arm. 

“Ah, you fried my systems. Twice?” You can’t help but laugh.

“You never gave me a key.” 

“It’s a passcode. It’s the date of our Psychopathor mission.” You feel your cheeks burn up.

“Now who’s the sap.”

“Fuck off, I need to get going.”

Suiting up, you hear Julia leave via the private elevator. You don’t know what will happen if someone catches you together out of gear. But Arya isn’t yet a criminal, and your romance wasn’t exactly a secret in the Sidestep days. Hopefully Heartbreak and Pacemaker draw even less attention.

Julia is officially in your life in a capacity you couldn’t have expected last week. Deep down, you might have hoped for it, but your current career choice felt incompatible. Now, however, you’re letting yourself hope. Hope is dangerous. Hope leads to heartbreak. And there’s been far too much of that lately.

You open Mortum’s contact information on your phone. How do you phrase this? How do you just ask for something? As Arya? Not as Eden? Eden. Eden who’s currently being kept alive in one of Mortum’s research facilities. You had Mortum take her when you decided to go public with the Rangers. 

Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard. Just be honest. Open. Like friends. Because you are.

Hey, I was wondering if I could commission a project from you.

Need to call? 

Yeah.

Then you dial.

“Mon cherie, what can I do for you?”

Deep breath. “Hey, I think I’m going to need another suit. Nothing as high tech but safe and anonymous.”

A moment. “Oh? For yourself?”

Another deep breath. “No, actually, for an associate. Getting myself a sidekick.”

“Do I want to know who it is?”

“I’ll tell you, but it might be better not to know.”

“Ah, I wondered when this would happen.” She sounds amused.

“Are you laughing at me?” 

“I would never.” Definitely a laugh. That one even came across the speaker.

“Well, would that be possible?” Your meekness outside of the suit is your truthful self. Which helps when Heartbreak is nearly overbearing at times.

“Yes, in fact, I might have something available. Would you happen to have her measurements?”

“Uh, shit. Probably not. I can ask?” Her. She knows. You’re becoming swiftly incapable of keeping secrets. Thankfully, Mortum and Julia seem to be the only two who take you apart like this.

“Or I could come to your base. Avoid having to show a Ranger my lab.”

“That works. I have some gear here, but you may need more.”

“What you have will suffice. Tonight?”

“If you’re free, yes.” Relief. Good to have allies. Friends. Being human.

“See you tonight then, Mon cherie.” 

That’s one issue solved. You send a text to Julia.

Need you back here tonight. Mortum has a suit.

One problem solved.

Confronting the mayor wasn’t on your agenda for many months. However, with what Blaze discovered - more communications between GeniTech and Los Diabolos’ ruling class - and your discoveries from Koch, you feel ready to make some waves.

Heartbreak needs an entrance. You always do. And, once again, you find yourself perched on a building overlooking the city hall. You’re surprised they don’t have guards stationed here. You’ve done this enough times you wonder if they’re just asking for you to make a fool of them.

You know Alvarez is in her office. You can see her through her office window. Dampeners are active, but you won’t be here long enough to warrant taking them out.

Deep breath and—

BEEP

Your brows furrow for a moment. A notification? Why? Who?

Julia.

Special Directive is here. They’re being ordered to bring in Steel. They’re not telling us why. Stay away. Love you.

Rage.

Rage rolls through you. 

The Rat King alerts you to nearby guards. You don’t care. You’ve already dropped to your bike stashed below. It’s nearing the end of the day, so you can hide amongst the shadows.

The Rat King is doing its best to calm you, but you’re not about to let go of this. The Directive may be made of ReGenes like yourself, but they do not get to go after your friends. If someone dies. If. It will be on you. And you alone. If they touch Julia. If. 

The soft whirring of your bike is the only sound as you speed through afternoon traffic. You’re not far from the HQ. You wouldn’t have stayed away even if you were. You’ll pretend like you accidentally happened across this. Decided to take advantage of the commotion and rob the place. Something. Not really important right now. What’s important are the two military transports parked outside the Ranger HQ. They’re parked in a position to secure and exfiltrate. You recognize it well. You were usually with the target.

Leaping off your bike, the two ReGenes covering the front entrance are mowed down. The shrapnel of your cycle goes in several directions. One ReGene stops moving. He took the brunt of the force. The other moves on you with inhuman speed.

When you fight, it’s a dance. A graceful mantra you’ve shown the world. Heartbreak is a gentleman as much as a brutal weapon. Now, however, you’re just a weapon. A weapon the Directive created. Mental and physical trauma awaits your enemies.

Your fist catches the remaining ReGene. He goes down, but inhuman joints allow him to catch himself and spin, coming in for another attack. No. One word. One word and the ReGene falls limply at your feet. He’s alive. Barely. You shut him down without even a twinge of a headache.

Stepping over the guards, you stride inside. The receptionist appears to be alive. Terrified but alive.

“Are they upstairs?” Your voice is clipped. Harsh. No joviality. Not normal for Heartbreak.

This level of fear is usually expected. But right now you need information. Data.

“Anna. Are they upstairs?” Your voice softening. You use her name. She blinks. Then nods vigorously.

“Get yourself out of here. I took out the two out front.”

She doesn’t ask why you know her name. Or why you’re helping.

The stairs. You use your grapple to skip the flights. You expect a standoff is going on in the break room. You were correct. Landing at the stair door, you can sense the Ranger team and at least 6 armed ReGene thought-voids. The classic absence of thought never tricked you. Though, you pretended like it did. The Farm was far too willing to believe they’d tamed you. 

Now you’re unleashed.

The door stands no chance. You go through it like a hot knife through butter. The first ReGene nearest you reacts with enhanced speed. But you don’t care. You break his mind. Rage. Pure rage. He drops before even reaching you. The Rat King tells you the others have recovered from your entrance. Steel is ordering them to get into position. 

The next two ReGenes, the first armed with cannons and the second armed with a sword start towards you. While they both launch attacks, you distract the mind of the cannoneer. His shot goes wild, and using the swordsman’s momentum, you grab his wrist and bring the sword down across the cannoneer’s arm. The arm is bisected, and wires and sparks emit from the stub. You use the weight of the swordsman and, while flipping him over your shoulder, drive the sword through his abdomen. Both are still alive. Pain gates on. You hear Julia yelling. Six more Special Directive ReGene have entered the room. Did they spend fourteen Re-Gene on you? Really? Julia is being surrounded. None of the Rangers expected a battle. None of them are armed or suited up. 

Herald has one around the neck and is lifting them into the air. He’s wailing on the faceplate, but the ReGene doesn’t seem to care. Three from the original party have surrounded Argent. She’s having fun. The invulnerable woman is in her element. She’s using her morphogenic sword and is easily matching all three who also wield melee weapons. Steel and Julia are surrounded by the remaining five. 

You’re not even sure what the ReGenes in front of Julia and Steel are outfitted with. It hardly matters. You’re running on pure hate. You strip the first ReGene of its arm. It screams in pain. The arm is entirely metal. It makes a decent club to cave in the skulls of the next two. The fourth ReGene you hit so hard, your fist goes entirely through him. You pull out wires instead of guts. Disappointing. The remaining two have decided you’re a threat. Peripherally, you see Steel cradling a missing limb. One of his cybernetic arms is missing. 

Two ReGenes are standing over Julia. She has a gash across her chest. Blood. A lot. Julia. Hurt.

There are too many. Overwhelmed. You can’t get to them all in time. Herald is down. Argent is down. Steel is down.

All for nothing. Hope is lost. All for nothing.

Julia. She’s dying. No. No. No.

No. No no no no no no no no.

No.

begin.process.void

void.step.activated

Bisected. Halved. Decapitated.

Two. Three. One.

Unrestricted. Unchained. Overkill.

Unconscious.

#fhr #fallen hero #fallen hero retribution #sidestep #fanfic

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I don't have time to write as much as I'd like right now, because annoyingly, I have to go to work all day before I can sit down and properly process last night's Grace Petrie concert (and watch the Taskmaster episode that I missed for the Grace Petrie concert, I have to do that). But I will say, you know how often at a show, even one you enjoy by someone you like, a small part of you is glad when it starts wrapping up? You start to wonder how much longer it'll go, just because there's a limit to how long we want to sit in one spot with strangers? "Often" is the wrong word, I've been to plenty of shows by my favourite people where that didn't happen. But at an average or even above average show, I start to hit my limit near the end.

Not even the tiniest bit in this one. When she said she only had two songs left, I was purely disappointed; absolutely nothing at the back of my mind thought "Oh good, it'll be nice to get back to my own bed." I could very, very happily have stayed there all night. It somehow exceeded my high expectations.

God, her voice. I think I hadn't fully appreciated how very good her singing voice is, just from a pure singing talent perspective. I knew it was good, I didn't realize just how good until I heard it all night, undiluted by the influence of recording file quality or speaker quality.

Also... I went up to the merch table at intermission. I did first buy a CD of an album that I already have off Bandcamp, and got her to sign it, as a ruse to show her that I am a normal person who wouldn't do something incredibly weird like bring someone else's poster to her show and ask her to sign it. The CD purchase was also a bribe - my parents taught me when I was young and going to folk festivals that singers hang around their merch table to make money; if you give them money for a CD then they won't mind you standing there talking to them for a short time, and sometimes it's worth buying a CD you already have as the price to briefly talk to your favourite singers while they sign it.

Then I pulled out this, and she was so nice about it. I said some incoherent thing like "I have such a strange request, I so hope you're not offended that it's someone else's thing, I'm a huge fan of your music not just the comedy, but I love the idea of having something signed by both of you so I'd love to get yours on this, because it's from close to the first year you toured together..."

"No, no, I'm not offended, Josie Long is one of my best friends! Can I take a picture of this to send her?" That was her answer as she signed it, and then she took a picture of that with her own phone. To send to Josie Long. In addition to the pictures my dad took on his phone and sent to me while I did this.

She played every song I wanted her to play (played much of the Connectivity album, which I think is her best one in addition to being her most recent). She closed on The Losing Side, my favourite song of hers, had the audience sing, that's going down as one of my favourite live music moments. Second last she did Black Tie, which I've always thought was very good but not quite her best one, maybe not as good as some others that seem less famous. But hearing it live gave me a new appreciation for it. I think the studio version I heard was more produced. Live with just her and her guitar and one guy accompanying her (Ben Moss, he was great, there were gorgeous harmonies all night), stripped back compared to the studio version, that song is so fucking beautiful. I understand the hype around it more now.

She got to the end and said only one more song, and I thought this night has been perfect so far, she's played all my favourites except my one top favourite, made a new favourite out of Black Tie for me... there's just one more thing I want, will I get it? Then she turned to her musical accompanyist Ben Moss, and mouthed some words that I was sure were "The Losing Side", and then I knew the night was perfect. The fact that she had to say that to him suggests to me she doesn't close with it every night, she had to let him know what to get ready to play. So I got lucky. So lucky. Fucking hell, so lucky. She had the audience sing the chorus and I didn't even mind that I'm normally not a partipator in these things and my dad was next to me (I'd thought we'd have different seats, turns out it was general admission), I happily participated and I'm glad I did. That's another song that really made me realize how amazing her voice is when I heard it in person.

Not a single song dragged or felt boring. Do you know rare it is to go an entire full length concert where not a single song feels a bit like filler? God, incredible night from start to finish. Could not have asked for more.

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Okay, so I need to expand my convention stall print selection as a matter of vague urgency because my current stuff is reaching the end of its useful lifespan (the joys of a small con scene and a lot of familiar faces in the customers who've already bought all they're going to buy), so

The current mile long to-draw list for the sake of creating some accountability (bolded are the most immediate priority):

Kirk, Spock, probably also McCoy

The rest of the Trek captains from the shows I've watched (Picard, Sisko, Janeway, Archer, Pike, Burnham?? I haven't gotten far enough in Discovery for her to be captain yet but I'm assuming she is eventually)

Assorted other popular Trek characters, eventually (if you've got suggestions, Please let me know, there's 500 of these people and narrowing it down is hard)

Luke, Leia, Han

I Really can't be bothered but I know Maul, Dooku, Sidious and Vader would be popular so eventually I'm just going to have to suck it up and draw some characters I hate

Something clone troopers (I have it on good authority that there's basically no merch for clone fans)

Torchwood team (portraits, like the Doctors print I've already got)

14th and 15th Doctor (or whatever they're called) to update Doctors print

NuWho companions? At least Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy, Clara, Bill

9th Doctor, Rose and Jack group shot

Something Hot Fuzz

Something Kingsman (Eggsy and Galahad, probably)

Something Pacific Rim (currently thinking maybe three somethings? Newt & Hermann, Mako & Raleigh, Pentecost and the cancelling the apocalypse line)

Judge Dredd and Anderson from Dredd

All nine of the Fellowship of the Ring, brown paper, which is going to take forever but should be worth it because they're all popular and also I love them all, probably eventually also Eowyn and Faramir and Bilbo

The daft local in-joke Nazghul thing (there's this mounted statue of Wellington in Glasgow that always has a traffic cone on its head so I'm redrawing it as a Nazghul because I think that's funny)

Something Firefly

Roy Kent, because I've got a Ted Lasso and he's the main character people are always asking after

Something DnD movie?

And probably a dozen other things but that's enough for now

I'm trying to mainly stick to old, established fandoms and movies/series that I genuinely like that are cult-classic-y enough that they're consistently popular, because I'm fed up of how quickly The Current Popular Thing fades these days. I've done well out of drawing stuff that'll appeal to the Queer Cartoon-Watching Teens, but they're a fickle audience and getting less reliable so time to target the staple fandoms instead.

And then there's also the other list which is stuff that's mostly for my own entertainment but will probably do decently well, just not enough to be a priority right now:

A few more RWBY characters on coloured paper to expand that set (at least Penny, Nora, Ren, Jaune, Oscar)

A DCTV Flash and Reverse Flash pair of prints on red and yellow paper respectively

Something Rivers of London

An updated set of brown paper FMA art

Arcane stuff (will be higher priority when the next season is closer, but for now no one is paying it any attention)

The trio from The Marvels

Eda, Luz, King and Hooty group shot (this one should probably be on the other list, but it's down here for now because I've already got Owl House prints and right now I need to go for breadth of fandoms rather than expanding within what I've already got)

That Captain America set of four with limit colours idea that I've had for ages (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Peggy)

More brown paper Jedi (current top of the list are Aayla Secura, Shaak Ti)

A print of the main duo from The Untamed (got badges already)

Etc etc

Can you see why I never get anything done, too-many-choices choice paralysis is A Nightmare

The current plan is to start with the Star Trek stuff, because that's going to be portraits and I can do those in my sleep. If I can get Kirk and Spock done, that's a solid start. The Torchwood team print is also small portraits, so that's potentially doable as well, and a good shout for my next event since it's an 18+ evening con so the audience will be a bit different to usual. (I'm intrigued about this con, I don't know how it's going to go, but the idea of an adults-only event where artists can sell All their stuff rather than sticking to kid-friendly is a good one even if that's not going to affect my own stock at all. Shame it's the same weekend and in the same city as a big established con that I got wait-listed for which I'm still mad about because I Kinda Need The Money, but what can you do.)

I've got that con the weekend after next which means I've got until Monday night at the latest to get things finished if I want them with the print shop by Tuesday morning. Then I can work on the two extra Doctors and maybe some companions, because those will be badges and I make those myself. And that's as far in the future as it's worth thinking right now, let's just take this a couple of weeks at a time and maybe my brain will stop stalling over having too much to do and no way to narrow it down

#personal stuff #to draw list tag

[niuniente]

Apologies if this has been asked before, but how does one get into doing professional tarot readings/other divination techniques? I've done a few for friends who said I was scarily accurate in my readings, but I have no idea how to approach possibly doing this as a career. Any advice would be appreciated!

I think the same way as how someone gets into professional online store owner for art and merch - by doing it :3

I don't earn ALL of my living from readings (not that I would be doing aggressive marketing and even then, I don't think I could earn my full living with it), so having a side job/hustle is important. This is also how many artists, authors etc. support themselves, or they have a partner to share the living costs and having a safety net like that (and then of course young ones who still live at home and parents are their safety net). You need to have some sort of a 2nd source of income.

Owning a business, especially if you want to handle everything by yourself, requires a shitload of skills if you want to earn all of your living by your business only; accounting, marketing, social media marketing, data analyzing, graphic designing, branding, all the extra work to make yourself known etc. on top of the actual job you do. That's also why I recommend readings to be only a side job unless/until you are very securely into that career and can let go of others. Such a level means that you can hire help you need and you can mainly concentrate on doing your job - the readings - and maybe planning some business strategies (aka what do you want to achieve and how).

Growing a business will take time! I did free readings for a few years, every single day, before I started very slowly to get into business. Before that I did readings for almost a decade without clients, just for free at times for people. I've done readings professionally for 16 years with paying clients. Compared to the amount of work I have done in the past 24 years overall, where I am now is very, very small and little. But, like I said, I have not done aggressive and ambitious work for this, but it has always been just a side thing to do.

Nowadays many have managed to turn their readings into a proper business through Youtube. Many readers have their own Pick a Card channel, where they do readings for free for the audience. That's one way of making yourself more known :3 This requires you to eventually invest into a good camera, good microphone, a good source of light and a good internet connection, as well as you learning to use editing programs if you want to appear very professional. Many also have regular updating schedules.

My favorite new comer in pick a card readings, who resonates with me, is Tarot Yogi. I hope he can make it really far, as he's clearly very talented.

#ask niu

[butchcraftwrites]

For the ask game, Rhea and Manuela, please?

Look, I'm just going to tell you straight up. This has been about Rhea. This has always been about Rhea. From the beginning of this seemingly endless FE3H rabbit hole that I have for some god forsaken reason thrown myself down, it has been about Rhea. Rhea, my beloved. Rhea, you parallel of a demigod or angel. You eternal victim of a hate crime. Baby. Baby cakes. Honey.

*Blows a kiss up to the sky* For the Immaculate One.

First impression: I honestly didn't piece together that Rhea was Seiros until the end of my first run (Silver Snow), so I didn't realize it was her in the opening cut scene. What I DID realize however, when she noticed Byleth walk into Garreg Mach for the first time from her Star Terrace, was her VOICE. Cherami Leigh's voice echoed from my speakers and immediately my ears perked. From like the first conversation she had with Byleth, I pretty much fell in love.

A friend of mine who was also in the middle of completing the game asked me which character so far was my favorite and when I told them, they were like "Oh." (as in "oh, of course") and then told me that I could only S-Support her if I played Edelgard's route. I had already picked Claude by this point and I really am not the type to restart a game once I've already put a few hours into it.

Anyway I restarted the game immediately and my head has been filled with pretty much nothing but Rhea ever since.

Impression now: *GESTURES TO MY BLOG. GESTURES TO MY MERCH COLLECTION. PUSHES YOUR FACE INTO MY DOC OF FIC IDEAS. SHOWS YOU ALL OF THE SAVED PHOTOS ON MY PHONE* *Breathes* Okay. So. I love her. So much more than I could have ever imagined. Dear Lord. I love her for being so resilient. I love her for loving the very species of people that massacred her family. I love her for her stumbles and oopsies in governing (which, to be fair, all in all she's done a pretty great job). I love her for being born with a purpose, having that stripped away from her at a fairly young age, and still day after day striving her hardest to choose kindness. I love how much energy she dedicates towards nurturing other people even though she knows they are going to die long before she does. I love how she is a Scary Big Dragon but treats children delicately and with tenderness (Cyril, the students who have anxiety, the mentions of how much she loves visiting the orphanage and playing with children). She just. She has so many reasons to be cruel and tyrannical and she just isn't. I know a big part of this is her trying to prepare the world for her mother's return (which no doubt is a delusion she's committed to false-memory) but that's honestly also another reason why I love her character. She is flawed. Very flawed. And yet after 1K years of life, we get to see her slowly decide to develop and change. And I love watching how immortals decide to finally do things. Anyway tl;dr She ticks like all of my boxes and I would die for her in a heartbeat. Also. EARS.

Favorite moment: HOW DO I PICK THERE ARE LIKE 5 CUT SCENES AND THEY ARE ALL GREAT. Maybe when the Empire invaded Garreg Mach and she morbed off of a cliffside (fun fact, I went into this game completely oblivious to the series and when I saw that she was a dragon I SCREAMED ENDLESSLY. In fact, I am still screaming, and writing is the only way to bring the eardrums of those around me peace). Or perhaps it was when Byleth woke up with her fucking head in Rhea's lap like it was a fucking pillow, another moment that made me scream and sob the first time it happened. Or perhaps it was in Hopes when Edelgard asked Rhea for the assistance of the Knights of Seiros and Rhea very quickly decided that she would lend a hand but immediately established her boundaries in doing so. It was such a small moment, and yet...

Idea for a story: :) Oh, wouldn't you like to know... I DO have a one shot Rhealeth fic in mind that's another Crimson Flower AU that plays lightly on the French texts of Guinevere and Lancelot. It will give me the opportunity to play more heavily with purple prose.

Unpopular opinion: I love Rhea as much as the next person in this small section of the fandom, but I think the crown she created is absolutely ridiculous and probably a constant strain on her neck and or shoulders. Don't get me wrong, I love her for it, but it just gives me another excuse to make fun of her(affectionate) and for me, it's True Love when I pick fun at a character relentlessly.

Favorite relationship: I'm pretty sure at this point, shipping her with Byleth has overridden everything else in my life.

Favorite headcanon: I like to think that the children Sothis created herself (those not born of Nabateans already created) were made fully grown. I imagine Rhea was born exactly as she is now, and she already knew how to fight, dance etc. I think she had a nice few years surrounded by family and loved ones, but that didn't last for much more than a decade or two before her mother was slaughtered. Strange that this is one of my favorite head canons, but hey, my favorite classical works are all tragedies, so.

AND NOW FOR MANUELA. My beautiful, glorious disaster. I love you. So much. You deserve everything. Everything. I raise my glass to you, sweetheart.

First impression: I was firstly annoyed with her. I generally dislike depictions of feminine flirtatious women in media (bit of aftershock from being tomboyish and coming out as young as I did), so I thought "Oh, it's that trope" and thought nothing of her. Clearly, I was wrong.

Impression now: Manuela is so nuanced. A lot of her motivation comes from needing to be loved, sure, but she gives as much love as she desires to receive. Like, dude, at some point between being a diva at a renown opera company(full time job) and coming to work at Garreg Mach, she became a physician. And a Professor. Like, HOW. I calculated this once, but at the start of 3 Houses she's only around 35??? At some point she must have started cramming her studies as hard as she could, and each field of study she chose benefited others. I also love that her ending cards sometimes mention that she dedicated the rest of her life to educating students from less fortunate families. Girl just wants life to feel good, and I love her for it so much. I think I've said this about every character I've been asked about so far, but she's one of my favorites.

Favorite moment: When she rants about wanting to stab the Death Knight herself. Or when the Death Knight isn't on the battlefield and she's like "Great, even the Death Knight is running away from me..."

Idea for a story: Manuela finds a spellbook on the ground that someone dropped. It's unlike anything she's ever seen, and that WILL show Hanneman, damnitt! She starts casting spells from this book that go HORRIBLY wrong, but she's oblivious and thinks she's doing great. Also she hasn't pieced together that the book she found is from Abyss.

Unpopular opinion: Is it popular to have an unpopular opinion about Manuela? Everyone has so many... Unpopular opinion: there's no way that Manuela is straight. Nope, nope that's also a popular opinion. I give up. I'm just sheeple.

Favorite relationship: With Ferdinand... I know, I know. I just think they are Rally Cute, and I love how he becomes a stay at home dad while she becomes Prime Minister.

Favorite headcanon: I am not the creator of this headcanon at all, but I love the headcanon that she stabbed the knife into the anatomical dummy to help her through the stress of getting attacked.

#long post #fe3h rhea #fe3h manuela #rhea #manuela #ask

[sunburnacoustic]

Muse ask! 17, 29, 41

Hii @exalteranima you're this blog's first ask!! Thanks for sending it, I love each of these questions, they're spot on!

17: How many Muse shirts do you own?

I live in band tees like 3 days a week anyway, and yeah naturally some of them are Muse shirts!

I have either 3 or 4, I'll explain... I got a Will of the People tour shirt at my gig this March, excitedly got one on the October club tour, got one at their 2019 Simulation Theory gig, but I think I've lost it in moving back to uni, which is devastating :( It was the tour shirt with the dates and the Simulation Theory artwork on it! It might still be in some suitcase, so who knows?

The ST tour was also my first big gig ever, and first Muse gig (!!), so going in I had no idea that merch was inside the venue, so I bought a knockoff shirt from someone outside the venue. It's a little loose for me to be honest, but it's what's I have left from the ST tour now so I don't regret having bought it. It has my tour date!

On a sidenote, Muse are the only band at whose gigs you will regularly find small-sized shirts that fit, they always have good stock of them. At other bands' gigs, I've always found the smaller shirts sell out really quickly and you're left with having to choose between getting a shirt that's too large to practically wear, or not have a shirt at all if you're a size S/M. I kinda suspect that's because Matt's definitely a S/M himself :)

29: Favourite hair colour on Matt?

:) This question made me laugh out loud for a full minute. The answer is the jet-black he had dyed his hair circa 2006-2008. It was a really smart look. (If someone who knows me in real life finds this blog, I hope they obliterate me before they find some of the tags I've left on BHAR-era Matt pictures.)

41: If you were interviewing Muse, what would you ask?

This one's relevant since this is what I do anyway 😅I probably won't be interviewing Muse anytime soon, but haven't we all dreamed about it at some point anyway?

I'd love to ask him about his thematic inspirations, how he sort of looks at the world around him, finds ideas and inspiration in books (every single album has had the influence of some book or other on it on at least a song, except maybe Will Of The People. I can't recall any for this album yet?), film, etc. and expands them into not just song ideas, but albums, the live show, stage props and sets; into immersive experiences as he would like fans to also experience them. How does he do that? Is there anything that's too far-fetched for Muse? Can they turn anything into the Muse Experience? It's the single most interesting thing about Muse's themes compared to any other band!

On a personal note I would really like to ask him about motivation... especially in fields like music, I just can't imagine there aren't times when people lose motivation, get temporarily bored, or just get frozen in fear of the unknown. How do they keep pushing forward, keep making brilliant albums without self-doubt? How do you keep trusting yourself? They're quite the band to know!

#asks #thanks for this! #I need a cool ask tag hmm... the only Muse song I can think of that has ask in it is 'keep us apart; it's too much to ask' #and this old unreleased song that had a line something like 'don't ask him he's hooking for a heart' or something #does anyone remember that? they put it out on origin of muse but I've forgotten its name unfortunately... #could call the tag 'it's (not) too much to ask' lol #musers #muse band #muse #it's (not) too much to ask #I guess there's also Citizen Erased's 'please stop asking me to describe' #Muse don't have one song that actually asks; only ones that stop asking lol

[glacialmaples-pkmn]

I ended up deciding I did want to go to fanexpo (even if it meant I might be in a little bit of pain bcs of the date. thankfully I wasn't tho!!) and I'm so happy I did!!!!!!

for most of the time we were there we didn't have much luck finding love live anything. a few things here and there, but it was mostly μ's and liella that we saw. I was coming around to the idea that the only ruby I was gonna get was a small aozora jumping heart keychain.

then we can across a booth where like. a quarter of it was just love live!!! they had figures from μ's to liella. it was so hard to choose which ones I wanted, that I completely overlooked a mirai no bokura ruby fig that was literally right behind a super cute kasumi I was looking at lmao. as soon as it was pointed out to me I didn't care for anything else immediately go it.

I think the vendor overheard us talking abt it and started showing us all the ruby merch they had. there was a pillow with scenes from the anime, another figure (the little demon outfit from the anime. idk what it's actually called lol), and an acrylic standee.

the pillow I didn't get cos 1) it was a decoration pillow, and idk abt anyone else, but I don't understand those. if it's a pillow, I'm using it at a pillow. but if I did that then it would quickly get ruined. and 2) the cats love attacking pillows and blankets if they move. so the pillow was an automatic no. the second figure was a no cos the costume isn't really that cute to me?? if I was a super collector and I needed it then I probably would've gotten it, but I'm not so I didn't lol.

so I ended up getting the ruby mirai fig and the standee, and another figure. I think in total I got 4 figures, 1 standee, and 5 keychains?? it's only been a day and I've already forgotten lol. I only have the ruby's we found as an early bday present, and my goldfish brain is gonna forget/has already forgotten what the other stuff was. I guess it'll be a good thing that I will forget everything else, that means I'll be genuinely surprised for Christmas lmao.

compared to the last time I went, I had so much more fun this time around. mostly bcs I have more than one interest and I'm not lying to myself abt my love for Pokemon. even for things I'm not interested in and only know of bcs of other people, being able to name which anime/game/character of the cosplays I saw was so much fun.

I wasn't really expecting it, since most cosplays I saw were genshin or one piece, but seeing 1 bandori and maybe 2 love live cosplays was cool!! one was for sure love live (aozora jumping heart are very obvious costumes), but idk if the other was? it was a very low-key casual, but still obviously a cosplay of some kind. it looked like a casual version of mirai ticket? but idk if it was. there was also this super pretty ei or makoto genshin cosplay (I'm 90% sure it was makoto) and.

idk, if I have the chance to go again next year (and have more than a 2~ week heads up and 1 day to decide) I might plan something of my own?? seeing them all was really inspiring. even if it's something more low-key and casual rather than big and obvious, even if it's something that maybe only I will recognize, maybe??? ever since I learned just how far people go to make/get their own accurate costumes I've always wanted to do it/try. but multiple different factors just stop me from trying.

#maple crunches #I know this is super long #but I had so much fun yesterday!!!!! #the only unfun part was we were there for 6ish hours and didn't sit down once #so much walking and standing still. we took the stairs whenever we could cos the escalators were so crowded #my thighs are burning and screaming at me today. and they probably will be for the next week as well #ow

[galaxialdarktale]

heeeeeyyyyy....

okay, so i know i've been flakey as hell the last few months. i honest to god have an explanation (i was forced to go to therapy to sort out my shit, thank my fiancee for my return). so here's what's been going on (under cut):

tldr; i'm back babey. reasons for long hiatus kinda thing under cut and i'm super excited to be back! i have a couple of posts, writing!!!!, planned that i want up by the end of the month - one, ideally, in the next couple of days. just needs a couple of edits :)

read the tags and the following line carefully before you click on keep reading. trigger warnings: schizophrenia, abuse, death

schizophrenia is genetic, i already knew that and that i had gotten it from my father. however, it wasn't very.... active, let's say. starting in april, it got bad. im trying my best to get the proper medication now (which is going to be hard since they lost my medical records and "don't want to tarnish your [my] records with such a harsh diagnosis! you have so much potential, so much yet going for you, and that would stop all of that!" (ableist motherfuckers i stg)) but i'm managing.

i was hella burnt out. on the rebound now, but part of my attempted rebound was switching majors from creative writing to game programming, delaying my graduation from dec 2022 to march 2026 (when i honestly just want to drop out). i took a term off and started it up, only to once again have to drop the same class again because i felt like was suffocating and drowning in the pressure at the same time. so i'm switching to gen studies, taking the 2 classes that i have to take to get the gen studies degree, and the 8 elective courses of my choosing, though that may not start up until january. i'm taking a lot of time off from school to even decide if i want to start back up.

i haven't been writing in a long, long time. i'll occasionally open up word, scrivener, milanote, or what have you and write maybe a sentence or a name down, but that's as far as it's gotten lately. until last night. i actually worked on a species idea for heelsum intro post actually coming soon since i have adobe for year im going all out basically it was just bad writer's block fueled by depression and the schizophrenia :)

technoblade. his death hit me hard. within the last year, my family dog, who i got when she was a puppy in 2009, died of the same cancer that alex had. then, in january, my fiancee's sibling died of cancer - small cell lung cancer, but cancer nonetheless. i hadn't started grieving my dog or my sibling-in-law yet and when i watched that video, it all clicked. three people i held dear, the same disease, all within less than a year. i was down and out for a while. (i bought $161 of techno merch to make myself feel better, it didn't work but it'll ship later this month ayyyy)

if you've made it this far, this is your last chance to back out because this is where it gets really bad, gays. so trigger warning for abuse. turn back now if you need to. last month, an alter of mine got yelled at for eating food - which is normal in my house. yelling at us for eating, i mean. we get yelled at for everything. this alter then went to ask our father if he could maybe not yell at us for eating because we already have an eating disorder so yeah please don't and got hit for it. we had a bruise on our face for a month. i'm actually one the alters that formed from that (hi, my name's layla!) for those concerned, we have a plan in place. we currently still have to stay in that house with them, we don't have a choice, but with our plan going as well as it has been and with the help of all our friends, we should be out of there within a couple of years (would be sooner, but passports are still slow). if you wish to help for some reason, my dms are open and i would greatly appreciate it, even if that help is even just offering to talk.

now that's it. that's everything that's been going on. to all my friends on here, everyone i used to talk to, if i can message you, start up conversation again... i know it's been a while, but i miss talking to you guys. if you'll let me, i'd like to still be friends. i won't @ any of you as i don't want to put pressure on you, but if you see this, dms are always open (as are asks).

glad to be back, gays.

#tw abuse #tw death #tw schizophrenia #galaxial.txt #i'm back babey #@ all my old friends #if i can message you #let me know? #i missed tumblr #so much #i missed writing even more #i can't wait to get back into it

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I loved the idea of jade shrinking and taking care of reader! Could I please request headcannons for Idia, Azul, Kalim, Leona, and Riddle taking care of a shrunk s/o until the effects wear off?

I’ve written headcanons for the reader taking care of a tiny Jade (here) and an imagine where Octavinelle plushies come to life to take care of a stressed reader (here) if you’re interested! ^^

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Idia’s nervous about losing you in that giant mess he calls his room, so he clears off some space on his shelves and lets you run amok among his figures and other anime merch on display. You duck behind various anime characters and make silly poses with them—and it’s so cute, Idia whips out his phone to snap pictures!!

You’ll find yourself in a paradise of junk food! Idia’s always stocked up on candy, chips, soda, and energy drinks to snack on while gaming, and his entire stash is open to you. He’ll let you use his hand to boost yourself up a can to sip directly from it, or pass along chips of candy for you to lick, leaving your tiny hands snd mouth costed in sugar.

While you’re too small to handle a video game controller properly, you can still play mobile games! Idia will let you roll for him on his various gacha games (since all it takes is a single press on the screen). Plus, you’re his secret weapon and cheat code for rhythm games!! While his fingers are busy attacking the main notes, you can keep your eyes out for any stray ones he might miss and grab them for him!

Idia’s not great at conversation, but he sure will blab about the shows this situation reminds him of. He could list a dozen anime off the top of his head with an episode dedicated to one character shrinking and the rest of the cast taking care of them until they’re back to normal. “M-Maybe we could watch some together... O-Only if you want to, though!! I-It might give us something to do to pass the time... a-and I don’t want to risk taking you outside!! Who knows what kinds of dangerous things are waiting out there... I-It’d be like stumbling into the Final Boss without any equipment or items!!”

When your eyes are too tired to play games or to watch anime, you can make yourself cozy in Idia’s lap or his blankets while you read a manga or a light novel with him. He’ll hold the book and help turn the pages for you, letting you catch the paper between your hands to complete the flip to the next part of the story. It’s nothing big, but there’s something about that small effort to do something together that makes it so intimate.

Although Azul would love to take a day off from classes and work to tend to you, the reality of the matter is that he can’t (who knows what kind of trouble could brew while he’s away?). The alternative? He’ll bring you with him, of course! Azul will make sure to handle you carefully on those trips, keeping you close to his heart.

You can be his little assistant in the office, running him various items as he needs them—stamps for sealing important letters, pens for clients to sign off on contracts, fresh paper to write on, and more. Azul really appreciates the help (especially when he notices that Floyd has messed up his meticulously organized desk and supplies... again), giving you a firm stroke on the head with a finger as thanks.

He marvels at how economical your new form is! Because you’ve shrunk, so has your stomach—which means it takes far less food to sustain you, and the Mostro Lounge getting more bang for its buck out of its ingredients! As you munch away, Azul considers how much money he could save if the entire school population were also shrunken down, and a familiar greedy glint materializes in his eyes. “... Hmm? You want to know what I’m thinking about? Fufu, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, just another potential venture. Rather than worry about that, why don’t I fetch you a napkin square? You have crumbs all over you.”

There’s a grand piano in the middle of the lounge, which Azul loves to play. You can’t exactly join him in the song with your own hands, so you swing along to it while dancing on top of the keys. Each step on the teeth causes a note to abruptly ring out, a welcome disruption to the tightly knitted song. He shakes his head at you, but continues to play, relishing in the strange duet.

Azul offers you his scarf to keep warm, taking care to carefully drape it on your shoulders. If you need a place to rest, then the brim of his hat makes for a fine mattress. Together, his accessories make a comfortable makeshift mini blanket and bed to tide over your tiredness.

Kalim’s not nearly as concerned as he probably should be--actually, he’s super excited to dote on you and spoil you (much to Jamil’s chagrin)! He makes do with what he can, scooping you up in his hands and spinning in a circle, a sort of impromptu dance since he can no longer tug you by your hand to the dance floor.

Kalim delights in personally feeding you. Sharing food with his loved ones has always been one of the greatest joys in his life, but there’s something really adorable about feeding someone so tiny! (Unfortunately, Kalim forgets to account for your size difference and continues to shove morsels of food at you long after you’re stuffed.)

He lets you play among the many animals in his menagerie! Ride around on the peak of a camel’s hump, see the beauty of a peacock feather up close and personal, or even slide down the tail of a tiger or the trunk of an elephant! It might be a little scary at first, but Kalim’s great about easing both you and the animals into it, acting as a perfectly friendly mediator.

Your small size allows you to see items super close. It makes you really appreciate the details in the textiles from the Scalding Sands, the cut of every gem, the embossing on every gold coin. Kalim happily takes you to the storage room so you can stare at all the treasures more closely--and hey, you can even swim in the gold like a rich duck!

Kalim takes you for a magic carpet ride, telling you to hold onto him tight before you shoot off into the sky. Up you go, beyond the stars and the clouds and against the moon, then crashing down like a shooting star. “Hold your breath, it gets better!” Kalim calls to you over the roar of the wind. “Don’t worry--I’ll be here to catch you if you fall, okay? So just relax, laugh, dance!! Have fun! Up here in the clouds, we don’t have a care in the world.”

Leona’s not thrilled about babysitting, even if it is you. He usually leaves the whole “taking care of others” thing to Ruggie for a reason: because he sucks at it. However, he at least has the courtesy to admit to it (albeit in a slightly grumpy way), warning you to “be prepared” if you really insist on him being your caretaker until further notice. (Who knows? Maybe that’s just his way of saying he’s afraid he might hurt you.)

It’s nice and toasty in the Botanical Garden! It’s hard not to fall asleep in it... so you make you lean up against one of Leona’s ears or curl up in his tail and snooze in it. He’ll grumble and groan at first, but eventually he’ll give up and end up falling asleep with you.

The greenhouse’s sprinklers decide to come on at an inopportune time! Luckily, Leona senses it in time and springs into action, using his leather jacket to shield your small form from the water. He takes the brunt of it before he can prowl into the shade of a broad leaf. “... Don’t give me that look,” he growls, looking much less menacing in his wet state. More like a drenched cat on the side of the road. “I’d rather you be warm and dry than me. It’s not like you’ve got any spare clothes this size lying around--and if you got sick... Hmph. It’d be even more annoying to deal with that.”

Mealtimes are heavily dependent on whenever Ruggie gets let out of his part-time jobs to drop off Leona’s lunch (and therefore your lunch as well). Leona is never quite sure what Ruggie will provide, but he’ll share whatever the spoils are with you (meaning he’ll make you eat the things he doesn’t want to, like the lettuce off of his deluxe menchi-katsu sandwich).

On those occasions where Leona actually decides to go to class or to a club meeting, you can sit on his head as he saunters down the hallway. Hang on tight to his hair if he decides to sprint, though! It’ll be one rough and bumpy ride, as the lion becomes one with the wind--and by the time it’s over, all you can make out is the spiraling smirk on his face, knowing that he has caught you off guard.

Riddle’s absolutely beside himself with worry when he hears of your predicament! He won’t let you out of his sight for one moment--for is he does, he worries he might lose sight of you forever. Riddle even volunteers to ferry you to and from your classes, as well as to take notes for you. This way, he’ll remain by your side, and you won’t miss any important information in spite of your smallish-ness.

He’s hesitant about letting you play with the hedgehogs and the flamingos, but relents, as he is confident that he has trained them to behave well. You have a grand time frolicking in the grass, chasing rolled up hedgehogs and grasping onto brightly colored feathers as your flamingo steed dashes across the lawn. Riddle trails behind you warily, expelling puffs of breath as he nears exhaustion, but he finds himself relaxing when he sees your smile and hears your laugh.

Join him for some tea in the garden, won’t you? Riddle will prepare your very own teacup (even if it is too large for you and assist with drinking out of it by tilting the cup for you. He’ll pass along cookie crumbs and break off bits of sandwiches to sate your appetite--and for the final treat, Riddle gifts you the crowning strawberry from the top of his tart.

The many oddities of the Heartslabyul Garden have caught your attention. You duck under mushroom caps and play among the petals while Riddle seeks you out, and when you jump out from your hiding place and call out to him, the greatest look of relief washes over him.

As the day is winding down and tiredness begins to set in, you curl up into an empty teacup, lulled into a gentle slumber by the fragrant residue of tea leaves and dessert. Riddle plucks a fat petal off of a nearby rose and lays it over you with a chuckle. “You’re ever so troublesome at times, you know that? ... Still, I do not dislike it. I suppose it does good to indulge in wackiness and whimsy once in a while. Whatever it is that you are dreaming of, I hope that it is something just as wonderful as my time with you is.”

#twst x reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Leona Kingscholar #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #Idia Shroud #Riddle Rosehearts #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #curiouser and curiouser #Kalim Al-Asim #Reader #self insert #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader #Idia Shroud x Reader #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

[folkloreguk]

💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.

#optional bias #optional bias smut #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpoptopia #prism.nw #exo smut #txt smut #day6 smut #cravity smut #ateez smut #nct smut #stray kids smut #bts smut #the boyz smut #sf9 smut #btob smut #got7 smut #ikon smut #oneus smut #onewe smut #seventeen smut #a.c.e smut #n.flying smut #monsta x smut #pentagon smut #enhypen smut

[katsukikitten]

Rapacious - rə-ˈpā-shəs- excessively grasping or covetous, living on prey,  ravenous

(A rapacious appetite only for you my doll)

Hello and welcome to my first formal collab with the lovely @lady-bakuhoe Our thirsty dms finally turned into a full blown collab where our writing melds into one. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

✧Triggers and Warnings ✧

Pro Hero Dynamight, aged up AU, adult themes, such as intense sexual interaction, yandere behavior, mind break (?), branding, and dub con. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read any further. Thank you.

The snow comes down heavily, beautifully as it sticks and clings to anything it can. Blanketing the outside world in an unsullied shimmer bringing a smile to your face as you watch the sun dip low over the horizon. The light painting the world in stunning reds and pinks as it filters in through your bay window that faces the street. A small shiver runs through your spine as you wait impatiently for your warm tea, convincing yourself that the chill has nothing to do with your outfit. An oversized Red Riot t-shirt, a pair of black dolphin shorts and black thigh high socks, it was comfortable and you felt cute. Even if it was just for yourself, besides what else would one wear to their solo Netflix binging? Surely not pants. 

A rapid knock comes at the door. Harsh, precise as you jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your mug. 

Lifting your cell phone to check the time, wondering who could be knocking at this hour, it was far too late for any visitors and it surely wasn't the post. The icy snow ensured that most people would be snuggled into their couches with a warm cup of tea, tucked away from the harsh weather. Much like you were trying to do, maybe if you ignored it the unsuspecting visitor would move on. 

But another sharp knock echoes around your living room, urging your feet to move. You pad through your small townhouse, trying to get a glimpse through the window only for the unwanted guest to be standing just out of view. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the thick oak door, debating on whether to open it or not as another knock sounded from the other side. Curiosity with a hint of fear compels your fingers as you click your door onto the chain latch. Opening it slightly, looking out between the crack in the door to see who it was.

“H-hi.” Your eyes caught sight of the man outside your house, pupils widening in surprise at the sight of him. Messy ash blond spikes on top of his head as his hair faded to a low buzz cut at the sides, “Dynamight?” 

The man's scowl morphed into a smirk at your recognition, obviously proud that you knew who he was, his vermilion eyes glistening in the light gleaming from your house as you moved to take the door off the security latch, opening it fully so you could see him properly. His gaze immediately drank you in, glancing at the thigh high socks that hugged your thighs as he made his way up to the hem of your shirt, cherishing the exposed skin of your upper thighs until he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of his best friend's face across your chest. It should be his. 

“My car broke down.” He motioned to the car that now sat motionless at the end of your drive, fresh snow already falling and covering its windscreen, “Can I come inside?” 

"Oh, um…" You're hesitant, technically you didn't know Dynamight but he was a pro hero. That meant he could be trusted right? Snow sticks to his blonde strands and shoulders. His hands and nose were a little red making it seem as if he had been in the cold a touch too long. Swallowing your fear you take a step back from the door, arm gesturing for him to come in. Silently elated he steps in as if he owns the place. What were the odds he would end up at your doorstep? 

"Um, can I offer you some coffee? Coco? Tea?" Your voice sounds small, stupid. Nervousness prickles over your skin as he sinks into your couch. 

"Tea is fine." His voice is silky and foreign in your warm home. He watches you with sharp eyes as you reach for a mug. Your short shorts ride up just a bit as your shirt gives him a tease of your back. 

Meanwhile you're buzzing from head to toe, THE one and ONLY Dynamight, the man you'd been dreaming of since his debut, the only face and voice that you ever imagined when your hands ventured into your soaked panties, was here. In your home, sitting on your couch and oh Gods...Which blanket did you have out? Was it his that you sprayed with his line of cologne so you would feel less lonely in your apartment? 

The kettle howls pulling you violently back to the task at hand. Should you ask him how he'd like his tea? You already know how he likes it, having read it in a magazine once committing it to memory in case you ever met him. But would that come off too strong? You settle on making it perfectly  in hopes it would paint you in the light of a "great hostess."  You grab onto the cup and turn to face the ill tempered hero head on. 

He turns away in time, relaxed on your couch as you offer him his cup. He takes it from your hands, his cool fingers brushing against yours. He takes a sip, peering at you over the rim. His vermillion eyes cause your stomach to flip as you nervously twist the hem of your shirt. His eyes rake over you with a smirk before they land on your worrying hands and that damned Red Riot shirt. Suddenly you're hyper aware of your inappropriate outfit, tugging your shirt over your exposed skin. 

His large palm settles on your thigh, starling you. 

"The outfit isn't the problem. I just think you look much better in my shirt." He tugs at the hem, "Maybe you should take this one off." 

“W-what?” You stammered, your body instinctively shrinking away from his touch.

“There’s just something about the way my face looks stretched against those tits.” He smirked, taking a sip of the warm mug before slipping it into your coffee table.

“What do you mean?” Confusion evident in your tone. What was he talking about? Your Dynamight merchandise? How would he have any idea about how much of a fan you were of him, just how many of his shirts sat in your closet right now. 

“Don’t act all coy.” Bakugou continued, turning his body to face yours on the couch, a dark look in his vermillion eyes as his fingers danced higher up your exposed thigh, feeling a warmth begin to seep from his palm as his cool calloused fingertips dig into your skin, “You know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“I assure you, Dynamight.” Bakugou groaned at the way his hero name sounded spilling from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Every day you’re out there being a fuckin’ tease.” He growled, biting your lip as you felt his blunt fingernails digging into the plush of your thigh, “Prancing around in these short fuckin’ shorts and my shirts.” 

Wait, had he seen you wearing his merch before? Had he seen you in his clothes? How? You were certain he’d never seen the multiple selfies you’d take of yourself to upload onto social media, always too scared to tag your favourite Hero. Instead proclaiming your love for him shamelessly on your socials, gushing about how he was the perfect hero. Still, even if he was lurking on your accounts, he couldn't possibly remember someone as lowly as you. 

“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you?” He snarled, his other hand moving up to palm your breast through your shirt, the action catching you by surprise as you gasped, “You wanted me to see you acting like such a slut.”

“N-no, Dynamight. I wasn’t-” You stammer as you think back, trying to remember all of the times you thought you felt a weighted gaze on you. Only to look over your shoulder to find nothing before submerging yourself back into your mundane world.

"Wasn't what? You mean you weren't trying to show the whole neighborhood your ass when you bent over 'pulling weeds'?" His palm becomes uncomfortably hot as his voice dips lower, lips brushing your ear as you drown in his spiced caramel scent. 

"Maybe you heard about your new neighbor Pro Hero Red Riot, wanted to show off for him? Or maybe you're just a slut who loves the attention?" 

Your blood runs cold, icy despite his burning palm, you swallow thickly as he continues to recite your summer as if reading from a list. 

"You know exactly what you're doing don'tchya? So many men have changed their jogging route to include your street, even if it is well out of their way. They slow their pace in front of your house when you're outside. Bent over, head lost in your garden and your skin tight shorts show your plump lips, your thick thighs and that supple, soft ass. Tits almost falling out from your crop tops as you must refuse to wear a bra. But you're such a good girl, reminding everyone who you belong to when you wear those shorts with my name across the ass." 

He leans away from you to hold your gaze. A shiver runs up your spine, you had never posted those shorts. The fan made ones that say "Bakugou's" across the ass, fuck how did he-?

He reads the question across your face, a nasty smirk dances on his cruel lips as he takes delight in the fear that blows your pupils wide. 

"I've been watching you Princess." You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the realisation, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

You didn’t.

“That’s why you put on such a show for me every time, isn’t it?” 

 You hadn’t noticed your favourite Pro-Hero had been watching you all this time. You were beyond excited when Red Riot had moved into the neighbourhood, wishing you’d catch a glimpse of him each time you left your house. Getting up early some mornings just to see the red head stretching for his morning run, his muscles taut across his thick frame. But not once had Bakugou been anywhere in sight. You were sure you'd remember the ash blonde standing next to your second favorite hero. 

“You do it on purpose.” Bakugou growled, his hand moving to your exposed waist, stroking against your naked skin as his fingers dipped underneath your top, “It turns you on doesn’t it? Everyone looking at your slutty little body.”

“No, please. It doesn’t- I’m not.” You tried to move away from him, but he already had your body trapped between the arm of the couch and his large, muscular frame. 

“All those eyes on you and you don’t give a fuck.” Bakugou’s large palm grasps your round breast, groaning when he feels your nipple pebbled underneath his touch, “You want everyone to see you.”

Before you have a moment to object, to tell him how wrong he is, his lips are already against yours in a sultry kiss. Your mind hazy as he immediately prods your lips with his tongue, desperate for entrance as he invades your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening, The Dynamight was inside your house. Your entire body burning as his heat engulfed you, this was something you’d dreamed about more than you could recollect. The amount of nights you’d touched yourself to the thought of his hands dancing across your body. Trying to imagine how it would feel to be completely ravaged by him, but now that he was here in the flesh you were nervous. The reality of the situation slowly consumes your body as your heart beats with more intensity. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Bakugou rasps huskily as he tugs your shirt up and over your breasts, his vermilion eyes taking in the sight of your exposed chest to his prying eyes, “Even better than I imagined.”

You nervously tried to move your arms to your chest, trying to hide your body from his burning gaze, but his hand was quick to grab your wrist, tugging your arm away with a glare, “Don’t.”

You averted your eyes from his own, biting your bottom lip as he lowered his face to your chest. His tongue tentatively coming out to lap around your darkened areola, closing his lips around your hardened nipple as he began to suck on the tender skin. Your head falling onto the back of the couch as you let out a low whine, one of your hands coming up to brush through his buzzed undercut, stroking against the spiky hair as you arched your back into his touch. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, sweetheart.” He murmured around your nipple, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. An airy gasp leaving your parted lips at the sensation as you involuntarily arched your back into his touch, “Every fuckin’ time I saw you-”

Wait? Every time he saw you? How often did he seek out your address? How many times did his crimson eyes burn into your skin without your noticing? 

Your eyes dart to the large bay window, holding eye contact with yourself as you stare at your reflection. A pitiful and clear sight as the blonde's hands groped your exposed tits. If the pro hero was brazen enough to peer through your unobstructed window, just how many other eyes fall onto you? 

“When I saw you in my signed debut Dynamight shirt, I knew I had to have you.” His lips curving into a grin against your skin as his tongue lapped at your hardened nipple, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger, “There’s just something about the sight of you in my clothes.”

At the mention of your rare signed shirt your body goes rigid, numb. If he had seen you in the shirt you mostly kept tucked away for safekeeping, he had seen everything hadn't he? 

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Princess.” He released your nipple with a pop, palming your breast with a grin as he pressed his lips against your own, “Weren’t shy when you were putting on a show for everyone, were you?”

Your bottom lip trembled at the suggestion, worrying it between your teeth as you felt Bakugou lean forward to grab your wrist in a large hand, the scent of his quirk filling the air as you felt the heat radiating from his palm. Vermilion eyes glancing down at your half-lidded ones, a glazed expression over your features as you focused on his touch.

“Look at what you fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart.” Bakugou tightened his grip on your wrist, moving your hand towards his crotch. His cock bulging against his pants, desperate to be released as he lay your palm against him. Gasping at the sensation as your palm made contact with the fabric, feeling just how hard he was for you underneath the denim.

All the while his thoughts are consumed by you, your smell, the look of surprise on your face. The feel of your skin against his and the heat of your breath tickling his ear when he pins you to the couch. 

All of the things he'd been imagining for the last few months. Your small hand against his large, twitching cock. Even through the fabric your warmth is hypnotizing, drawing him in and captivating him with every inch of you.

Bakugou's problem is that he can be greedy, hungry for more. Wanting nothing but the best and much like his sun sign, once he had his eyes set on something nothing could overcome his stubborn ambition. Not even the small look of fear in your eyes but even he can see that it is fading, melding into desire. He watches your fingers flutter, teasingly trying to figure out just how big and girthy he really was. Your heart races as you stare into his clouded vermillion eyes. Blood running hot as your mouth salivates, imagining the same thing he is. 

How does it taste? 

You let out a soft whine, fingers prodding at the head earning you a borderline feral growl. 

"Quit being a fucking tease and take it out, Princess." He groans, you freeze at his bold request.

"B..but…" He crowds you as your protests die in your throat. His lips brushing against your ear as he breathes in your sweet shampoo. 

"But what Princess? Scared I'll fuck you stupid?" He nips at the shell of your ear, chuckling darkly when you shiver, "Or are you scared you'll get addicted to how I taste?" 

"T-taste?" 

"Aw look at you acting all fuckin shy?" He squeezes your thighs with a deadly grip, fingers creeping between them, "You weren't so shy last week sitting in this spot were you?" 

You freeze as you think back to last week, knowing exactly what you were doing, eyes glancing over his broad shoulder to see the snow coming down in sheets through the large bay windows. You thought you were high enough and far enough away from the road, there, there was no way he saw right? 

His fingers press against your clothed sex, rubbing rough circles unable to keep the deadly smirk off of his lips. 

"Your phone in one hand and your other right here. Or maybe," He moves the dark fabric to the side, sliding his fingers to your clit, "It was here." 

You bite back your moans as the rough pad of his fingers circle your clit, just barely grazing over it in an agonizing purposeful fashion. 

"What were you watching again? Amateur porn right? POV with the guy's face hidden but he was in a knock off Dynamight suit wasn't he?" He pulls back to watch your face, twisting with pleasure and horror, body arching towards his touch as your head swims. Cunt clenching as he dips closer to your core for slick. 

"And what did that slutty mouth say?" His smile is cocky, holding eye contact. Silence sits between the two of you as your eyes flutter. He pulls his hand away from your throbbing clit, squeezing against your pulse point.

"I asked a question, Kitten. Now answer it." His voice is dark. 

"Dy-Dynamight." You gasp out, he ruts his hips against your leg. 

"Again." His free hand slips back between your folds, fingers setting a rapid pace that already has you teetering on the edge already. 

"Dynamight!" 

"Again. Say my name again." His fingers work you over as the coil unexpectedly snaps in your stomach. 

"Katuskiiii." You gasp and whine, shamefully cumming all over his thick digits. He groans, shoving his fingers into your cunt to feel you grip onto him, he cannot wait to feel that pretty pussy molding to his aching cock. 

But he would wait, for now. 

"Good girl." He praises, pulling his fingers from your core, licking up them. Savoring your essence as you watch his eyes flutter paying you a high compliment. In quick motions he throws a pillow onto the solid hardwood floor, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you onto the plush cushion. His free hand undoing his belt with deft fingers before he pulls his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, the head leaking precum as you lick your lips. 

"You're gonna keep being a good girl for me right, Princess?" He coos, dragging his cock across your lips, smearing his sweet and salty pre from cheek to cheek. 

"Fuck do you know how long I've been dreaming of your lips around my cock?" He groans, pulling your hair back to force eye contact. 

"How, how long?" Your question prompts that nasty smile as his crimson eyes gleam with cruelty and lust.

"Months." 

And with that he pulls your hair back hard enough that you cry out in pain. Bakugou takes the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. Bottoming out at the back of your throat causing you to gag, your spit eases the roughness of his slow harsh thrusts as your eyes water. 

Nothing could have prepared you for feeling Bakugou inside you for the first time, your wildest fantasies didn’t equate to this. The sheer size of his thick, bulging cock made it difficult for you to take him inside your mouth. The prominent veins that forked along the side dragging against your cheek as he eased you down on his length. Fingers stroking through your hair sweetly, a stark contrast to his previous movements. His husky voice cooing down at you, gentle praises that had you keening, desperate to hear more. The red, swollen tip prodding against the back of your throat as you gagged around him, a mixture of spit and pre dribbling down your chin as you tried to fit more of him inside your mouth hungrily. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” Bakugou grunted, his fingers carding into your messy hair and tugging harshly against the root, pressing you further down his aching cock. Watching the way your cheeks hollowed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. The movement causing fresh tears to clump in your lashes as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. His coarse blond pubic hairs tickling your skin as he held your head down on his cock. 

Struggling for oxygen as your tongue lashed against the underside of his length, the salty sweet taste of his cum mixed with the lack of oxygen making you light headed as you felt yourself falling deeper into him. Teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to relax your throat, innocent eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost had him cumming on the spot, it was something he’d thought about for months, stroking himself raw to the thought of your lips wrapped around him. You felt gentle tremors flowing through your body as he finally allowed you a moment of respite, tugging you off his length roughly as you gasped for air.

“So pretty for me,” His warm palm stroked against your cheek, dipping his thumb between your parted lips as he felt you instinctively close your mouth around it. Your tongue swirling around the calloused pad of his thumb as you heard him groan above you, “Look at you.”

“How many times have you played with that slutty little pussy to the thought of me, hah?” Bakugou mused, his thumb slipping from your mouth as he pulled down your lower lip, watching the way your face followed after his hand to try and pull him back in.

“P-please.” You trembled, already feeling your clit throbbing painfully between your thighs, already feeling unsatiated as crimson eyes glared down at you.

“I bet you’ve never had anything this big inside you,” He wrapped his palm around his cock, smirking when he noticed your eyes hyper focused on him, “Have you?”

You shook your head nervously, even the toys you’d experimented before didn’t equate to his sheer size, “N-no, Dynamight.”

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, Princess.” Bakugou’s thoughts already flooding to how your tight little cunt would feel being split around his cock. Moulding it to his size so you’d never be satisfied with anything or anyone else. You were going to be his and his alone, and he’d do anything to ensure that happened, “Wanna feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, yeah?”

His words sending more pleasurable jolts to your core, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he helped you to your feet, his large palms keeping against your hips as he dipped his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts. Sliding the material down your thighs with one rough tug, exposing your naked body to his prying eyes. The sight of you completely bare in front of him had his cock twitching almost painfully, you were even more perfect than he had imagined.

“C’mere, Princess.” He cooed gently, a stark contrast to his earlier actions. You keened as you slid onto his lap, feeling his thick cock pressed snugly between your folds as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Your fingertips digging into his shirt as you tried feebly to get him to take it off.

“So needy,” He smirked, leaning forward to tug his shirt up and over his head. His chiselled abs now on full display as you focused in on each sharp ridge. He was even more perfect in person, and you couldn’t quite believe that the Dynamight was now in front of you.

Bakugou’s large palms moved back to your hips, pressing you down against his cock as you felt the length stroke against your slit, involuntarily grinding down against him as you tried to give your clit some much needed stimulation. The action did not go unnoticed by Bakugou who smirked at your desperation, digging his fingertips into your skin as he began to circle your hips against his cock. 

“You’re soaking my cock and I haven’t even put it in yet,” He smirked as he felt your slick coating his length, watching in amusement as you continued to grind yourself against him, trying to give yourself some relief, “Bet you could get yourself off just like this, hah?”

“No,” You whined, “Please,”

“Please, what?” He coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies to tease your puffy clit, a harsh laugh leaving his lips when he felt the way your body jerked at his touch.

“Please,” You trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious that you were now very much naked in front of your favourite Pro-Hero.

“You don’t seem to want it enough, Princess.” Bakugou teased, moving you away from his cock as you groaned in displeasure. Your eyes looking down at his shaft that was now coated in a layer of your slick. Fresh pre spilling from the tip as you reached out to grab him between your fingers. Bakugou’s reflexes were quicker as he caught your wrist in his large palm, giving you a warning look as his nostrils flared. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He moved his hands back to grab your ass, kneading the round mounds as he moved you to hover over his cock, vermilion eyes gazing up at you as he waited for you to speak, “You want my cock?”

“Yeah-” You felt your head nodding before you’d even had a chance to think, desperate to feel him sliding inside your warmth, splitting you open as he buried himself deep inside you. 

“Yeah?” He mocked, tilting his head to the side as he pressed a kiss against your pebbled nipple, “Then fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Please, Dynamight.” You rolled your hips again, grinding against nothing as you tried to create some friction between your thighs, “Want your cock.”

A groan spilled from his lips at such blunt words leaving your pouty lips, calloused fingertips digging into your supple flesh as he pressed you down on the head of his cock. The tip stretching you out slightly as you tried to drop your hips down on him, wanting to feel him deep inside you.

“You want Dynamight to fuck this slutty pussy?” He pulled you away from his cock which caused a needy whine to spill from your lips, trying to angle your hips back towards his length.

Bakugou’s palm wrapping around his cock to drag the swollen, reddened tip along your sopping folds. Feeling your slick coat his skin as it mingled with his pre, watching the way your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his cockhead brushing against your clit.

“Yes.” You hissed, already anticipating the pleasurable stretch his girth would create inside you. The thick head already back at your tight entrance as he watched you shamelessly try and drop your hips down onto him. 

"Yes what?" His voice is dark with pleasure as he glares up at you, a pitiful mess. He's toying with you, as a cat does a mouse and you feel utterly embarrassed. This was Pro hero Dynamight damn it, you wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be sexy, not some whiny bitch in heat. 

Little did you know how much Bakugou loved it, lived for it as he gently bounced you on just the tip. Driving you wild as you whined, all the while he smirked. 

"Please Katsuki-sama." Your nails rake down his forearms, "Please, please fuck me." 

"That's my good girl." He slams you down on his cock in one swift motion causing your vision to spot. He relishes the way you flutter around him, adjusting as a shiver runs up your spine. 

"Now fuck yourself on my cock, Princess." 

"But-" He wraps his hand around your throat, malice and lust dance in his eyes as his free hand travels to your thigh. Palm heating with each pound of your heart until it begins to become too much, too hot.

"Ride me like you did your fingers last week. You were thinking of me then weren't you, pervert?” You gasped at his crude words, the idea that he had been watching you while you dipped your fingers inside your tight cunt had embarrassment ebbing in your core. Your body trembling as the object of your affections degraded you, “Wishing it was me finger fuckin’ that pretty pussy, yeah?”

Unable to stop the shameless moan that left your parted lips, the sound restricted to a strangled gasp as he kept his palm wrapped tightly around your jugular. 

“Or were you thinking of Red Riot since you love wearing his merch so much, hah.” Bakugou goaded, you could feel his grip against you tightening as his palms heated up dangerously, “Wishing he’d come in and bend you over like the little slut you are.”

“N-no,” You tried to gasp out, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that flowed through your body.

Bakugou loosened his grip around your neck, keeping his palm against your skin as he leaned his head closer to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as vermilion eyes bored into your own, “What was that?”

“J-just you, Dynamight.” You rasped, a rush of air filling your lungs as your chest heaved against him, “Only for you-”

“Yeah?” His lips curled into a cocky grin, immediately tightening his grip around your throat once more, “That’s fuckin’ right, you should be thinking about me when you play with that sloppy pussy.”

He squeezes both your throat and thigh harder. You rock your hips, fucking yourself on his fat cock as you gasp for air, hands desperately holding onto toned arms for support as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. 

“Now I want you to fuckin' show me how much of a Dynamight fan you really are." He groans at the way you grip around him, tongue lulling past his smirk for just as second. 

If you had to try and describe this feeling it would be something akin to euphoria, a constant throb ebbing through your cunt at the dull stretch his cock caused around your core. His cock moulding you to his shape as he bounced you on his lap, the thick jutting veins along his girth dragging against your inner walls with each pronounced thrust. Desperate cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he fucked himself into you, hungrily searching to pull more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips. You felt pearly tears begin to clump in your lashes as he fucked into your tight cunt with vigour, uncaring for giving you a moment of respite as he hungrily used you for his own pleasure. 

“Aw, you gonna cry, Princess?” He sneered, vermilion eyes gazing down at your own as he kept his pace, “I know you fuckin’ love it. I can feel you squeezing my cock.”

“Please-” You couldn’t think of the words, your mind foggy with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain overwhelming you as he continued to fuck you with reckless abandon. 

“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid, dumbass.” He grunted, the calloused pads of his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs, crude noising filling the air as you could hear just how wet you were for him, “That sloppy pussy is drooling all over my cock.”

"Who do you belong to?" His husky voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling your heart into your stomach. 

"You." You gasp as the heat of his palm on your leg begins to burn, skin warping beneath his touch. Hand glowing golden as if he were a God while his quirk begins to really activate. The smell of spiced caramel, smoke and scalded flesh cling to the couch and invade your senses as a crude whimper leaves your parted lips. The skin that he’d just burned throbbing under his touch, as heat surged through your body. His sharp thrusts helping to morph the pain you felt into a pure, unabashed pleasure as he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Good girl. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to." Your eyes flicker away from his face before he uses his finger behind your jaw to meet his gaze, "Look at your King when you cum."

The combination of pleasure and pain paired with the thought of being his makes that delicate coil snap. Your body tenses and freezes as you shake atop his lap, biting nails drawing blood on his arms. He smirks, fucking up into you as another mind numbing orgasim washes over your body. Without withdrawing himself he flips the two of you against the couch. 

“Fuck, look at you.” Your back presses into the cushions as he towers over you. Gazing down and into your eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, switching hands to place one on your unburnt thigh, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

The telltale sounds of his quirk sound in the room as his hands crackle, heating his other palm, readying himself to repeat the action. To mark your body and claim you as his own, so if anyone dared to look at you they would know exactly who you belonged. Permanent hand prints marking you as his. No one else was allowed to have you, not that you had a choice, at least not anymore. 

Bakugou hissed as he felt your cunt continue to flutter around him in the aftershocks of your climax, snapping his hips as his pelvis hits against your puffy clit, head swimming from both pleasure and your primal need to breathe that was being wholly denied.

Bakugou was going to ruin you and you'd let him. 

"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Another possessive question that rockets you to the edge, body hoping for another mark, to make you symmetrical. 

Whole. 

"You." Another raspy breath but it's enough for Bakugou to hear. A silent moan tears from your throat as you try to keep your eyes locked with his. Pain blooming on your thigh with a delicious bite. 

 “What was that?” He snarled, pressing your thigh up against your chest as his arm slid underneath your knee, resting your calf over his shoulder as he changed the angle of his thrusts, his cock delving deeper between your folds as you felt the swollen tip bruising your cervix with each hard rut of his hips, “Say my name.”

“Dynamight.” You called out, already feeling your body throbbing in the telltale signs of another orgasm, your thighs quivering as you felt Bakugou fuck your body into the couch hard before using his grip on your thigh to drag you back into him. 

The crude sound of skin against skin vibrated around the room as his meaty balls slapped against the swell of your ass, Bakugou’s muscular frame dwarfing your own as he used you for his own pleasure. His own little cocksleeve that would succumb to his every request, you would be his and his alone to use as he pleased. 

“Again.” A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, a possessive undertone to it as he urged you on, “Say it again.”

“Dynamight.” You managed to whimper through sobs, tears trickling down your temples now and soaking into your messy hair. The sound of his name spilling from your lips made him readjust his thrusts with newfound intensity. 

“That’s fuckin’ right. Red Riot would never fuck you this good, hah?” He provoked, a clear sign of dominance over you, “You’re fuckin’ made for my cock.”

A cry slipping from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust inside your aching cunt, the tip of his length pounding against your cervix as he worked to claim your body as his own, trying to wipe thoughts of anyone else from your mind so all you could think about in this moment was his fat cock buried deep inside your tight heat.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted, his eyes mapping out your body as he worked himself against you, “Feel so good.”

Your breasts bounced with the intensity of his thrusts as he felt your inner walls quivering around his cock, already feeling another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil inside you impossibly tight as you tried to remember to breathe. Your vision hazy as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded, white dots blanking your vision as you shook beneath him.

“You gonna cum again already? Greedy fuckin’ bitch.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a grin as he felt your fingernails dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shapes in their wake as a dull ache tingled against his skin at the sensation, “My cock’s better than your fuckin’ fingers, yeah?”

“Yes,” You hissed, your toes curling as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure. Your tight heat clenching around Bakugou’s cock as an usual sensation flowed through you, an intense throb in your core as you felt the unwavering urge to pee. Tightening your thighs around Bakugou’s firm body in an attempt to stop it from happening as wracked sobs left your body, your lower lip trembling as the sensation became too much. Too intense, too overwhelming as you allowed it to take over, your body crying out as you came. A clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs and soaking Bakugou’s crotch, his pace never once faltering as he fucked you through the sensation.

“Look at you, you messy fuckin’ slut” He howled in pleasure as he watched the liquid seep from your folds, “Look at your sloppy little pussy soakin’ my cock.”

“I’m sorry-” You cried out in embarrassment, feeling your heart pound in your chest as you saw his abdomen glistening with your release, “I didn’t mean-”

“What? You never fuckin’ squirted before?” Bakugou’s lips curled into a sly smile, his chest puffed out in pride, “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Bakugou slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press four fingers against your clit, rubbing it frantically side to side as he tried to prolong the sensation, watching to see more of the clear liquid escape your heat. 

"I can make this pretty little cunt do what I want. Wanna know why?" He leans in with a deadly grin on his lips,  "Cause I own it." 

You cried out as you felt the sensation flowing through you once more, a dull ache in your lower body as more of the clear liquid gushed from your folds. The sight made Bakugou smirk with glee, his fingers relentless against your sensitive nub.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He goaded, feeling your body trying to shy away from him as you withered beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, “That fuckin’ desperate.”

“P-please,” You whimpered, your entire body felt unbearably hot. Unable to think coherently as Bakugou continued pounding his thick girth into your core, his warm breath fanning your face as he hovered above you.

“P-please,” He mocked, tilting his head as he glanced down at you, “Please, what?”

“‘S too much,” You stammered, your hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist, trying to tug his fingers away from their assault against your clit.

The movement made him growl, baring his teeth as his hand moved from your clit, reaching up to wrap around the curve of your neck instead as he instantly tightened his grip against your jugular. The action caused your eyes to widen in surprise before your soft whines turned into hungry pants as you tried to gasp for air. Bakugou’s consistent thrusts into your sloppy hole made it difficult to think straight, your body fully focused on the sight of him above you while his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. 

“Gonna fill that sloppy little pussy with cum, yeah?” You flushed at the suggestion, already feeling your inner walls fluttering around his cock at the thought, squeezing his girth as it created more friction as he dragged his cock along your velvety walls, his grip on your neck tightening as you felt your cunt clench around his cock in response, “You’re gonna look so pretty for me all full of my cum, Princess.”

A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as you watched his eyes roll back, his thrusts stuttering as he came, bottoming out inside you as white hot spurts of cum splashed against your inner walls. His palms stroking along your exposed skin, sliding against the thin sheen of sweat that coated your body as he came down from his climax, humping a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt as he cherished the sweet way your walls continued to flutter around him. 

You whined as Bakugou slowly eased his hips back, slipping his softening cock out of your quivering folds. His eyes immediately focused on your abused hole as he watched his cum begin to trickle out of you as it dribbled down towards your ass. Unable to resist reaching a finger out to collect the mixture, scooping it up as he slowly pushed it back inside you. Smirking at the way you tried to bat his hand away from your overstimulated folds, this only making him want to tease you more as he moved his finger to press against your inner walls. Swallowing thickly as he felt your body involuntarily clamping down around him in an attempt to pull him back inside you. 

“Such a good girl for me, Princess.” He moved his fingers up to stroke against your puffy clit, laughing at the way you arched your hips away from his touch, trying to stop him from teasing your satiated clit, “Took my cock so well.” 

You mewl in response, clutching your arms to yourself as you shake from the previous events. You looked so small and scared causing a sharp pain to bolt through Bakugou's chest. God he wanted you in his care even more now.

“You were even more perfect than I imagined.” He pulls you to him, trapping you in his embrace as he presses your face into his chest. Hand smoothing your damp hair as he hums lightly. His eyes catching sight of the Red Riot shirt he’d discarded to the floor, a thought occurred to him, one he cannot keep to himself, as another sadistic smile settled on his lips. 

“Kirishima told me not to come over here, said to leave you alone-” He pulls you back so you can look at him, and gods the look you're giving him. Eyes soft and submissive, hazed over in mind numbing pleasure as you float off somewhere far away. Only Bakugou's arms are keeping you bound to Earth. “But I was right wasn’t I, Princess?”

You'll never be able to escape his gravity now. 

“He just wanted you for himself.” His fingers feather over your body before he stands, guessing where the first aid could be. You clutch onto his shirt, eyes desperately glued to your new God as the fading sun washes him over in deep hues of red. The way you look at him makes his cock twitch, feeling the intense power he already holds over you. 

"You'll let your King go." A growl as his fingers find your throat, you nod with fresh tears catching on long lashes as he steps away. Sobbing from his absence before he returns. 

"Don't be a baby, I wasn't that far Princess." His voice all bite while his hands speak the truth. Calloused and scared fingers pressing ointment into the fresh burns tenderly. 

“But you’re mine now aren’t you Princess?” He dots over the burns, rubbing the salve in gently, “All mine.”

He leans away from you, cruelty ever plastered on his smirking lips. 

“Maybe I should show Red Riot what you look like right now, hah?” He pulls out his phone, going to snap a picture. You're hesitant at first but then move to strike a pose, wide eyes looking into the lens of the camera as Bakugou angles it to get the dark bruises and scars that now marr your perfect skin. "Fuck, I think showing him what a good girl you are in person would be much better." 

“W-we shouldn’t-“ You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of your sweet neighbour seeing you like this, utterly debauched because of Pro-Hero Dynamight. 

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl.” He coos uncharacteristically, almost mocking you as he watches your lower lip tremble, “I’m sure Red Riot would love to see you like this. Probably jerks himself raw to the thought of you.”

He eases you to your feet, sliding your shorts over your thighs as you hiss when they get to the fresh brand. Your mouth waters from pain as you look down at them. His perfect palm prints etched into your skin forever. You bite your bottom lip, wanting more from Bakugou who slips his jacket over your shoulders before putting your snow boots onto your feet. He makes his way to the door.

"Comin' pervert?" He asks before you rush to your feet,  “Shall we show Red Riot what a desperate little slut his neighbour is?” 

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, engulfing you in his mesmerizing scent and heat. You nod slowly, wanting nothing more than to please your new caretaker. 

“Gotta remind that asshole who the fuck you belong to.”

#bakugou x reader #tw: dub con #tw: branding #yandere bakugo x reader #tw: mind break

[buttercream-squad-imagines]

Little Red Dress

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Callux x sister!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Swearing, some violence, maybe a few spelling mistakes Request: Idk if this is a request but like a secret relationship with Harry that you hide and you like calluxs sister or something like that and when he finds out he gets really mad or something

How you had gotten here you didn't know. It was a question you had continually asked yourself for the last five or so months. You hadn't long moved to London, where your older brother Callum lived. You had wanted to be closer to him, not that you were far anyway but you were very closer to your brother.

There were quite a few years between you and the older boy, you being born when the latter was 7 years old. Now at the ages of 22 and 29, the two could not be more inseparable. Despite having different fathers - both of whom hadn't stuck around long enough for the pair to remember them - you and Cal were like peas in a pod. With no father figure for you to look up to, you naturally clung to the boy growing up, and Cal being the only male in the house, quickly took on the protector figure for both you and your mum.

As awful as you felt leaving your mum back at home, you had been missing your brother desperately since he had moved to London so long ago, having spent the latter majority of your school years without him. Now after graduating from university, you finally felt free enough to move to the city with your brother and make your own way in life.

That was nearing a year ago, which led you to now. The situation that you were currently in, sneaking around with one of your brother's best friends.

You had met Harry before you could even have been introduced by Cal in one of the most cliche ways ever. Being the clumsy git he is, he had bumped into you in the hallway of your new apartment building and had spilled the contents of the box you were carrying all over the hardwood floor. Awkwardly the man had tried to pick up the contents in a hurry, spitting out apologies to you and once again dropping things from his arms in an attempt to put them back into the box. It was something you had found very endearing and is a quality of his that you adore.

In an attempt to apologise for both spilling the box full of stuff and then dropping the contents whilst trying to pick them back up, Harry had offered to help you bring up the rest of your boxes. It was there that you both ran into your brother, who was visibly confused as to how his cumbersome best friend was talking to his baby sister like they had known each other for years.

Cal would never actually admit it to you but witnessing that interacting had a large pit forming at the bottom of his stomach. He knew how Harry could be and knew from the look in his eye that he had quickly found an attraction in you.

Any spark found in Harry's eyes quickly distinguished when he learned of your relation to Cal, knowing how protective the older boy could be of his baby sister, but nothing could stop the fluttering feeling the boy got when he was around you. Not even Cal's warnings against dating his sister. Warnings that his other friends got, to his relief, all of which assured Cal that his sister was out of bounds. Pleased with the responses, Cal never had a second thought, something you were glad for.

Something you weren't glad for however, was the feeling of uneasiness you got whenever you were with Harry. You almost felt guilty for being with him, even more so for keeping it from your brother.

Your boyfriend of five months, however, was quick to chase away that feeling with his affection. You got to see another side to the boy that many of the people in his life never got to witness. It gave you a feeling of euphoria knowing that you were the object of Harry's affections, and affectionate he was.

When the two of you got to spend time at your apartment, the boy could not remove himself from you. Whether he was lying in bed editing a video, cuddled into your side, or sprawled out on the settee with his head nestled in your lap, he always had to have some body part touching you. His hand always found yours when he was particularly anxious, something that happened quite regularly, which was one of the traits you found most endearing. It warmed your heart to know that you were able to calm him down.

Something you did a lot was steal Harry's clothing. There was just something about those jumpers, especially the sidemen merch, that was just so comfortable. Even after insisting on getting you some sidemen clothing of your own, so he could continue to make use of his own wardrobe, you still wore his. You had told him very shyly that you liked wearing his clothes because they smelled like him, and it brought you comfort when he was away visiting his own family.

Harry thought he might have broken down then and there. Not that he would say it out loud, he secretly loved it when you wore his clothes but knowing that you would wear them when you missed him? He felt like he was on cloud nine.

Which is how you found yourself right now, snuggled on your sofa, drowning in Harry's jumper and a fleece blanket, watching the TV. Harry had been away visiting his family over the new year, and wasn't due back until the following day but you missed him dearly. Your phone had been forgotten in your bedroom, your only distraction was reruns of Grey's Anatomy, a show you had already watched religiously.

You hadn't realised how much time had passed as you easily lost track of time when you got into a show. You also hadn't realised that your brother had been trying to get hold of your for over an hour. Which is why you were startled when you heard the click of the lock turning.

"Y/N?" The sound of your brother's voice filled the small apartment. "Are you in here?"

"On the sofa." You called back with a yawn. He could easily hear the drowsiness in your voice, he would put his money on you falling asleep within the next hour.

"You didn't answer my calls or texts, I was worried." He scolded gently.

"I left it in my room to charge, sorry for worrying you." You stretched causing the blanket that covered you to drop to your lap.

"Whose? Whose jumper is that?" Cal inquired, suspicion laced in his tone.

"Oh, is it not yours?" You asked, trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's jumper adorned your body and was currently the reason that you were about to be outed.

"No. You know that's not my jumper Y/N. It's too small to be mine." You winced at the hardness in his voice.

"I must've picked it up thinking it was yours. Oops." You tried to play it off coolly, and your brother seemed to be coming around to the idea that it was just a misunderstanding. Thank God, you screamed internally.

"Right." He sprawled himself out next to you and let out a groan when he noticed what you were watching. "Really? Grey's Anatomy? You know I've experienced enough hospitals in my life without having to watch this garbage."

"How dare you?" You gasped playfully, whacking the older man on the arm. "I'm not turning it off, so either accept it or leave."

"Fine."

A week later, Cal was visiting Freezy and Harry's apartment to hang out with the boys. You were meant to be coming soon though as you and Cal were going out for lunch. Cal was sprawled on the sofa and Harry was on another, whilst Freezy was in the bathroom. Cal's suspicions once again peaked as he noticed Harry wearing the jumper you were wearing just a week ago.

"I'm sure that's the jumper Y/N was wearing last week." He muttered loud enough for the younger boy to hear.

"Is it? She must've picked it up by accident and thought it was yours." Harry spoke coolly although his stomach felt like it was doing backflips.

"Hmm. That's what she said." He grumbled. The two fell back into a comfortable silence scrolling through their phones, waiting for Freezy to arrive back from the bathroom.

"Harry, I'm sure you've got some secret girlfriend you're hiding from us or something." The loud voice of Freezy echoed through the apartment.

"What?" The boy in question stumbled over his words. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, if I had to guess, I wouldn't put you down as the type of person who used Sunkissed raspberry shampoo and conditioner." He cackled.

"So, what if I did?" Harry's heart was racing, trying to play the situation off. Even if the boys found out he was seeing someone, they still wouldn't know who. That's what he was trying to tell himself anyway.

"Right, so you're telling me this dress from the washing basket is yours too?"

Harry's face dropped as Freezy held up the little red dress that you had thrown in the washing basket after a night out. A night out with your brother and his friends.

"What the fuck Harry?!" Cal seethed, gripping him by the collar of his jumper and shoving him into the wall. "My fucking sister!"

"Oh." Was the only thing that come out of Freezy's mouth once he had realised the severity of the situation. Your brother on the other hand was seeing red. What they hadn't heard was you entering the flat, having heard the shouting from the hallway. Cal raised his fist, bringing it to meet the side of Harry's face, who hadn't said a word yet.

"What the hell Cal?!" You exclaimed, marching over and pushing him away from your boyfriend.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked you through gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You honestly had no idea what was happening right now, but if you had to make a guess, you'd put your money on Cal having found out about your relationship. You could count on one hand how many times you had seen your brother as angry as this. Not ever had it been directed at you though.

"Stop lying Y/N!" He roared making you cower into Harry behind you and let out a small whimper. "Come on, we're leaving."

"No!" Your brother grabbed the top of your arm and began pulling you away. You tried to shrug his hand from your arm, but he held on tightly. "I'm not leaving."

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the apartment.

"Hey." Harry whispered softly, touching your arm gently.

"I'll just leave you two." Freezy muttered awkwardly, leaving to go to his room. Harry pulled you into his chest and wiped away the tears you hadn't realised had fallen.

"It's okay." He assured you. "It'll be okay."

#sidemen imagine #sidemen #Harry Lewis #Harry Lewis x reader #Harry Lewis x fem!reader #Wroetoshaw #Wroetoshaw x reader #Wroetoshaw x fem!reader #Wroetoshaw imagine #Sidemen x reader #Callux x reader #Callux x sister!reader #Callux x platonic!reader #Harry Lewis imagine #Sidemen fanfic #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #w2s

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

#tyson jost imagine #alex writes #nhl imagine #hockey writing #when i post this i’ll be at work lmao i’m really posting it then dipping

[obey-me-rot]

You Shouldn't Be This Cool

A/N: Something purely self indulgent to kickstart this Obey Me writing blog. The idea mostly belongs to @warm-meelk because of how they drew their MC playing bass and then sprinkled in the fact that Levi would be the pianist and I just kinda...went from there q wq. And I also play bass so...all the more reason to write this!

Warnings: Levi trying to justify some of his more weird actions while MC seems to not only know...but enjoy the attention.

Levi wasn’t a creep, he was passionate.

He was passionate about TSL, he was passionate about anime, he was passionate about his idol groups and he was even passionate about learning new skills in order to better evolve himself into an ultimate fan.

So what he did today was not because he was a creep!

It was because he was passionate.

“Can you play that for me again, Levi?”

The third born tucks his feet on his chair, sipping up the noodles of his second cup of ramen as he watches the video feed from this afternoon. He smiles as the camera zooms in on your fingers, each one plucking the string of your bass absentmindedly while you listen to the melody he had composed.

As a TSL fan, he was ‘in the know’ of most TSL fan events whether they were held in the Devildom or in the human world. If they were worth the trouble he would attend and if it seemed like it was just a repeat fan event for one he already attended then he would just get the merch from the safety and comfort of his room.

Yet a completely new fan event had popped up on his radar one day, an online one.

One that challenged each and every TSL fan to create a song dedicated to their favourite lord.

Levi doesn’t remember much after that announcement, all he remembers is knocking on your door at devil knows what hours of the morning and shoving the music sheets in your face while pleading for you to help him out.

Your musical talent wasn’t hidden in the House of Lamentation. While most of the brothers could boast about having pretty decent singing voices or being ‘okay’ at certain instruments, your ‘weapon’ of choice was perhaps the most random but also well fitted instrument for someone like you.

You played the bass.

If he wanted to get specific, you played the TCB1006 Ibanez electric bass. You had mentioned in passing when you and him had met up to start ‘jamming’ out and Levi had retained that fact along with his hundreds of other facts that had to do with your particular interests and likes.

Again, because he was passionate...about your friendship.

The camera zooms out to film both of you, a happy giggle taking him over as he saw just how chill you looked.

How unfair was it that out of all the instruments you could play, you had to play the one that just made you look even cooler?

You were laying in his tub while he sat on the very chair he was sitting on now, plucking strings seemingly at random but humming some bars and trying to fit them with his melody. Your feet were propped up on the edge and the soft brown color of the guitar meshed so well with the glowing blue lights of his room that he is so glad he picked this spot for his hidden camera because you looked ethereal.

“I still can’t believe you composed this. It’s pro-level.”

“H--Ha! Of course! This is nothing but a piece of cake for me! If it's about the Third Lord and Henry then I’m all over it!”

Eyes take in the way you sit up and position your bass higher, fingers having a better reach as you start to ‘slap’ the strings in order to create a more wavy and deeper sound.

“Okay...I think I got it. Can you play the melody from the beginning?”

Oh here it was.

Sitting up, Levi puts his cup noodle down and grabs the nearby music sheets, pen already in hand as his attention on you becomes laser focused.

The beat you play is, well, playful. It is a high contrast to his almost operatic piano melody and he could almost hear himself playing a bit slower as if wondering if you had even heard what he was playing

“Uh MC…?"

“Trust me.”

Levi bites his lip as he feels his heart skip a beat, not even having to look at the screen to see that he was blushing. His past self was so predictable…

Although wasn’t his present self all the more pathetic for reacting to your words a second time?

He’d rather not think about it too much.

Your purpose had come shining through the moment Levi started to really hear the notes you were playing. It was almost as if you were mimicking Henry’s character with the bass. Cool, collected and eager to learn more about the world he had been thrusted into, your bass managed to capture the curiosity of Henry’s while his piano clearly symbolized the shy but deadly Third Lord.

The bass would go high, the piano would go low but as the melody started to harmonize so did the way your playing did with his. It was if he was the Third Lord, shyly peeking at the way Henry interacted with the world around them…

Only to turn around and invite him to join along.

His eyes go up to the screen.

You looked so happy, your fingers plucking away as he continued playing along with you. Your eyes turn to look at him and he almost wants to punch his past self in the face for not looking back. The camera had been perfectly placed to capture the way you tilt your head as you stare at him, chuckling as he clearly gets far too into the music for his own good.

To miss such an exclusive UR moment from you, he should be ashamed of himself.

“Haha. Thank the devil I came up with this camera idea!”

Levi blinks as he looks around, coming face to face with his beloved Henry as the fish stares at him from his bowl.

“...don’t look at me like that, Henry…”

The fish blinks.

“I wasn’t doing it to be a creep! I just wanted to write down the notes MC played before I forgot them.”

Henry’s mouth opens and then closes.

“And see! I even missed such exclusive moments from them! Look!”

He pauses the video and turns the screen so his fish can take a better look.

“5:06. I even timestamped it. Right here, MC is smiling and looking at me so cutely that it would be almost a sin to not record it!”

His fingers tap a couple of keys as he goes back to another point of the video.

“3:58, they smile and do such a cool trick with their fingers that I didn’t even notice that they stick their tongue out whenever they get too into playing! Do you see that Henry?”

A couple more taps as he keeps the video playing, the goldfish swims close to the edge of the bowl.

“I missed so many great moments all because I was so lost in playing! And I just didn’t want to ask them if I could record them because then they might think I’m using the footage for some sort of weird purpose and I would never do something like that to them! My Henry is far too amazing for me to just watch them one time! I just wanted to make sure of the notes they were playing! This is all for passion--!”

“Levi?”

He stops talking as he looks back at the screen, Henry swimming away while Levi tuned into the video once again.

“Was that good? I don’t know why but having the bass go a bit higher as I mute the strings feels almost like--”

“Like a conversation! It’s like the instruments are talking!”

Okay maybe this camera idea wasn’t the greatest after all, that was such a stupid thing to say and if he could go back and just slap the words out of his very mouch, he would.

Yet once again, his MC showed just why they were at the top of their ‘favourites’ list.

“Yeah! Like a convo!”

The conversation dissolves into randomness as Levi sighs and looks down at his sheet music. He only got a few notes down. Devildom, what was the point of having perfect pitch if he didn’t use it all the time? He straightens his screen out as he grabs a pencil instead of a pen, knowing full well that if he wanted to get this done he would have to rely on listening to you play and not looking at the screen.

If he finished this quickly then he would be able to stare at yo--it...he would be able to stare at it the rest of the night.

He goes to rewind the video but stops when he notices the scenery has changed just a tiny bit. You were out of his bathtub and looking at his aquarium, tapping the wall twice as some of his other fishes came up to greet you.

They were already so accustomed to you that he was sure even Lotan would know who you were.

Your attention goes from his aquarium wall to his computer, looking at all of his figurines and other merch he proudly showed off. A few more steps to the right and you were looking at his bookshelf--

Only for your eyes to lock with his.

He rolls his chair back immediately, his heart dropping to his feet as you reach out to the camera and pluck it from its hiding place.

No. No no no nononononononono!

This was it. You were done with him. Levi didn’t have a lot of friends but he knew that this was probably a friendship ender. His pupils contract as he sees you look at the camera with a confused look, already guessing your thoughts before you could vocalize them.

This weirdo was filming me the entire time. And he was hiding the camera? Disgusting. I’ll make sure to never come by his place again. What an absolute creep.

“MC...I didn’t--”

His jaw clicks shut as small tears gather at the corners of his eyes, not yet falling down his cheeks as he sees you smile and wave at the camera.

What--?

“Levi. If you wanted to film you didn’t really have to hide it. I want something to remember this session too. Next time you can just ask~”

You wink and Levi can feel his heart going from the floor all the way to his throat.

“Oh and send me a text when you have the footage ready. We can watch it together.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you place the camera back before his voice rings out from the video, exclaiming about all the snacks he had brought. So that’s why he had found you standing up, and here he thought you were leaving…

Send you a text...the footage…?

His hands scramble to his phone as he quickly enters the passcode, blushing as he sees a new message from you.

“Mind if I come over again? I have a new bassline I want to show off.”

Levi puts the phone down slowly before getting up---

Only to immediately fall down, hands over his face as he curled up on the floor.

Of all the characters he thought he would be in a shoujo, the last one he thought he would end up as is the heroine.

Not that he was regretting it, this was perhaps the best outcome that had happened in his now not so miserable life.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me levi x reader #//*holds levi* #//I just think he is neat q wq