#But I'm not gonna post that kind of hurt without comfort

[mariasont]

hi hi hi!!! i know you’re working on the bau sleepover buttttt i was wondering if you could write a aaron hotchner x reader fic where like what happened to garcia, reader gets shot and she’s in hospital and they don’t know if she gonna be okay and stuff. her and hotch have this mutual pining for each other and when she gets shot he kinda spirals. after being released, hotch takes her to her apartment and stays with her until they catch him and stuff. i know this is really long, thank you!!!

Some Profiler You Are - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi thank you so so sooo much for requesting <3 i kind of took this a more fluffy route and focused more on the recovery so let me know if you like it :)

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: reader was shot, comfort, angst like a teensy bit, fluff, changing of bandages, kinda shitty ending per usual

wc: 2k

"Do you want to sit down?"

No, you really didn't. After spending the last six hours in a state of near-motionlessness, sprawled across various surfaces, the last thing you wanted was to do was sit down. Your legs had taken on the consistency of overcooked noodles, so you made the grave mistake of misreading the quiet of the house as Hotch's absence, a mistake punctuated by the garage door's sudden rumble.

You should have known better than to assume he would leave you alone for even a second. Now, you were face to face, his scrutinizing eyes boring into yours, arms crossed across his wide chest. He was in a casual zip-up--a rarity that you never imagined him wearing before practically moving in with him. But you really did enjoy this relaxed side of him, he wore it exceptionally well.

Taking work off was a concept you knew was foreign him, yet here he was, not at his desk, hovering over you like a concerned parent. The entire office, yourself included, gaped at him as if he had sprouted a different head when he told them. His next move was even crazier--he insisted you stay with him while you recovered.

You protested. A lot. Shocker. But he wouldn't take no for an answer. Again, Shocker.

You winced as you stepped forward, your hands automatically gravitating to the bandage that spanned around your thigh.

"You can't baby me forever, Hotch," you murmured, though your conviction wavered under the dull throb in your leg.

You braced yourself against the counter, trying to mask the discomfort you were sure was etched all over your face.

Filling the shoes of the communications liaison for the FBI post-JJ's shift to profiling, you signed up for a life of managing the media narrative, being the conduit between local and federal levels, and choosing the cases. You provided assistance in ways that aren't glaringly obvious.

What you didn't sign up for is getting shot.

The movies, the stories, even the firsthand accounts from coworkers--none of it could brace you for the raw, blistering pain of a gunshot wound. It fucking hurt. And the recovery? It was a different kind of torture, and you'd even argue that it was worse.

"It's not babying, it's common sense," Hotch countered.

He was frustrated. You had that effect. He stepped closer, his hand dragging down his face. "You took a bullet. It's still in your leg. It's perfectly rational for me to want to prevent any unnecessary strain on you."

"Feels dramatic," you shrugged, but he was right, like always.

Your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles growing white as you struggled to keep the pain under wraps. His brows lifted in response.

"I'm fine, really, Hotch. I hate this. You're probably dying to get back to work--don't let me be the reason you don't. Despite popular belief, I'm quite capable of fending for myself."

"I'm aware," he said, his attention briefly shifting to your bandaged leg. You were wearing shorts, a choice that felt less than appropriate, but practicality trumped formality under these circumstances. "Work will survive without me. I'm not sure I can say the same about you."

Your laughter was short-lived, swiftly turning into a stifled grimace as your footing slipped. Hotch's reflexes were quick, his hands steadying you--one against your ribs, the other just shy above the hem of your shorts.

"Point in case."

"Poking fun at a wounded woman? Shame on you, Hotch," you chided, your lower lip jutting out in a pout. His eyes darted to it momentarily.

He didn't move, his hands staying put, stirring a gentle, jelly-like feeling inside of you.

This was an odd sort of comfort, the kind you're not supposed to feel with your boss. You shouldn't be talking to him like this, shouldn't be in his kitchen, and certainly, his hands shouldn't be where they were. But the ache in your heart didn't seem to care about shoulds and shouldn'ts.

Hotch's presence was hard to ignore. He was reducing the space with every word.

"You're hardly acting like a wounded woman," he pointed out. "You should be in bed."

You tilted your head, sliding onto the barstool to carve some much-needed space between you. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you needed distance to gather your wits before you did something that HR would definitely not look kindly upon.

The action was a mistake, a fact that became painfully clear as the feeling of something stabbing into your leg took hold. You tried to muster a smile, but you were sure it came across as a snarl. The last thing you wanted was to inflate Hotch's ego by showing that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Shit."

You followed his line of sight, landing on the fresh red seeping through the bandage and staining your shorts. Oh. That's not great. Don't think you can fool him with this one.

Hotch didn't hesitate, his response outpacing your own surge of panic, which was incredibly fast, because you were panicking and frankly not that great with blood. His hands were on your skin, easing the hem of your shorts upward to lay bare the wound you had stupidly  underestimated.

You're never going on a date again.

I mean, the only reason you even went was to get your boss of your mind. Since the first day, you'd been hopelessly drawn to him--how could you not be?

But there are a couple factors to consider.

Firstly, he was your boss, and the whole notion of a coercive relationship dynamic seemed problematic.

Secondly, there's the age difference; it had never been an issue for you--perhaps a reflection of your daddy issues--but you knew it would raise some eyebrows.

And thirdly, he didn't even like you back. That was, of course, the biggest issue. If not for this, the other concerns could definitely be overlooked. 

Before this whole incident, he barely acknowledged you beyond was professionally required of him. You knew you hadn't been part of the team long enough to bond--though you weren't sure Hotch did bond in the usual sense, but the point was made.

You were fairly sure you hadn't made much of an impression on him.

"Hold still." That was a tall order, considering it hurt more than a mother fucker.

You found yourself glaring at him--not that he was to blame, but you needed to anchor your frustration on something, or someone. Unknowingly, your grip had latched on the fabric of his zip-up, but he seemed unfazed. He grabbed a clean cloth from the drawer, pressing it against the wound, only furthering the colorful vocabulary going on in your head.

"Fuck, Hotch."

You didn't make a habit of cursing in front of your superior, but the sharp sting forced tears to the brink, your body going rigid as you snapped your eyes shut. 

His other hand found its way to your uninjured thigh, giving it a firm squeeze--a clear attempt to divert your attention. It worked for a second. "I'm sorry, just keep this pressed here, okay?"

He motioned toward the cloth, and you complied, too drained to consider otherwise. Your brows knitted, and you bit into your lip until you tasted something metallicy, your mind desperately racing trying to think of anything other than the blood flowing freely from your thigh.

"Where are you going?" You knew how panicked you sounded as he turned away, stepping towards a cabinet. 

He rummaged briefly before holding up a first aid kit. Catching the brief alarm in your face, he quickly returned to your side, his hand finding the crook of your neck as you instinctively clutched at his shirt once again.

"If you dare say I told you so, I swear, Hotch, fists will fly," you ground out through clenched teeth.

He laughed, and now that did distract you, your eyes zeroing in on his perfect teeth. It was a rare display, and it only served to aggravate you further. Of course he had perfect teeth.

"I didn't say anything."

"I could feel you thinking it," you said, your voice rough as you willed the moisture in your eyes not to fall. "Maybe I should be a profiler."

"Definitely."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." You were lying. Everything suited him. He stepped back, and you reluctantly peered at the wound, only to find a neatly sutured leg. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"In this job, you learn to be handy with more than just a gun.”

You’d love to know what else he’s handy with.

He pulled your leg up to rest on his as he took a seat on the opposite stool.

Your body was buzzing, from the closeness, from his hands on you, and also from the pain, but you were trying to ignore that. He grabs a new bandage from the counter, hands trailing up your thigh so slowly you thought you might pass out. He was so gentle. There was no other word for it.

"How's it feel?"

You paused. Eyes fully locked on his precise movements as he wrapped you up. You were closer than you realized, practically sharing the same breath.

"Fine."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, and he finished up his task, his hand lightly patting your thigh to show he was done. You didn't move your leg from his lap, and he didn't move his hand.

"I couldn't sleep for three days."

"What?" Your brows were furrowed, your focus sharpening on his face as the words left his lips.

"When I found out you had been shot." He cleared his throat, his thumb making gentle rotations on your calf. "I couldn't close my eyes without seeing red for days. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch who did that to you. I almost did."

You weren't sure how to process this information, or why he was telling you. "You and me both."

"I'm serious." And you could tell he was, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand firmly encircled around your leg. You felt a lump in your throat form as heat rose from your neck to your ears. "Do you know what that was like? I felt like my heart stopped."

"Why?"

"Why?" It was more a scoff than a word. He blew out a breath, his fingers pinching into the space between his eyebrows. "Is it not obvious?"

Your heart was beating a lot faster. You wanted to say something, anything but your throat was dry and every time you opened your mouth you found it snapping shut.

Hotch's expression softened ever so slightly, his voice low and bouncing off the walls as he spoke. "Because I'm in love with you."

Your breath stalled, as if every ounce of oxygen had been vacuumed from your lungs. The air felt heavy, almost tangible.

You stared at him, heart skipping a beat.

"That's not funny," you said. It wasn't. You weren't in the mood for jokes, and your brain couldn't comprehend he might be telling the truth. "You...you don't even notice me."

He shook his head. "I notice everything about you." His thumb stilled on your calf. "I'm your boss," he said, as if that explained everything. "There are rules, protocols. I couldn't...I still shouldn't..."

The confession stripped the room of its warmth, leaving a raw aching silence in its wake. You searched his face.

"When you got shot," he continued, "I realized that if I lost you, I'd regret not telling you how I feel for the rest of my life."

"Hotch, I..."

He leaned closer, causing your words to catch in your throat. His hand moved from your leg to your face. You were speechless, the world narrowing down to the man in front of you, to his eyes, the warmth of his hands.

"Say something."

"Are you kidding me?" Your heart was pounding like it was trying to escape from your chest. "I've been in love with you since I started. How could you not see that?"

He looked taken aback, as if your words were the last thing he expected. "Well—,"

But you didn't let him finish. "Some profiler you are."

You were practically climbing into his lap, hands framing his face, pulling your lips to his.

He chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. "Easy," he murmured, "don't make me fix that bandage again."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee. "Shut up, Hotch."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[guiltyasdave]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[sandwhitches]

request: "can i have an orange and cherry popsicle (hurt/comfort) w suna where he accidentally snaps at reader ??? u can decide how it ends exactly but id like it to be fluffy :3"

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

a/n: u already know i’m going the fluffy route :3 had to repost bc im stupid and forgot tags the first time whoopsies!! also i was like not gonna put a banner on all of these but i don’t think i can physically make a post without one they’re so cute eeughhhh

genre: angst w/ a fluffy ending (hurt/comfort)

warnings: language, gn. reader, teeny argument, mentions of accidentally missing a meal

wc: 779

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

In theory, bad days happen just as much as good days, but every once in a while there is a particularly bad day that will fall onto your lap when you least expect it. That’s what today was for Suna. Particularly bad. 

This morning he’d rolled out of bed thirty minutes late, nothing too out of the ordinary for him, which is why he’s well versed in rushing a shower and scarfing down enough sustenance to last him until the afternoon. Traffic on the way to early morning practice? Been there, done that. Hours worth of conditioning? A little bit annoying, but it's not the first time that’s happened. Losing track of time and forgetting to eat lunch? Kinda sucky. Walking to his car to find a terribly noticeable door ding on the passenger’s side? Really sucky. 

Suna happened to have compiled an impressive list of minor inconveniences to combine with the other stack of shit, and it all adds up to the very worst part, taking it out on you. 

It was just an innocent question on your behalf about the dent in his car, “And you’re gonna have to pay?” You frowned sympathetically, watching in confusion as his expression turned completely to a sour contortion of a scowl, “Obviously, I am, the other car was gone by the time I came out.” He huffed in agitation with a superfluous roll of his eyes to seal the deal. 

You sputtered, brow tensed, “You don’t have to get so defensive.” Rintaro had groaned in response, tilting his chin, “Well what kind of a stupid question is that when I already told you what happened?” His breath caught in his throat with instant regret as you set your jaw tight with frustration, there was no doubt you were holding back a return that would only escalate what’s already been blown out of proportion. You stormed off, leaving Suna with the feeling that he quite possibly might be the biggest idiot in the world. 

As of now, you’ve only had the chance to be alone for a few minutes, taking your anger out by completing your most aggressive attempt at folding laundry to date. Suna knocks on the doorframe of your bedroom to announce his presence, you turn around to find him nervously thumbing at the meat of his palm, a guilty expression. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking up at the shift in your expression to gauge whether or not he was about to have a t-shirt thrown in his face. Who was he kidding? You’re the most understanding person he knows and he was stupid enough to snap at you. Suna thinks, in that moment, that there will never be anything big enough for him to get mad at you for again. Nothing feels worse than being like this, not even waking up late, nor conditioning, nor missing lunch, and especially not getting door dinged. 

“I just-...” he blows out a breath that makes his cheeks puff up while he sorts through countless words, trying to find the right ones to fix things, “I had a really bad day, and I’m sorry it made me snap at you…I'm an idiot.”  

“…You kinda are, huh?” Suna looks up to find that the echo of a grin has replaced the deep frown you had before, making the knot in his chest begin to loosen gradually. Rintaro huffs out a quiet laugh, “Yeah…” 

For a moment, you thought there might still be something else in his mind with the way his eyes dropped, head swimming in thoughts. The question sitting on your lips was quickly replaced by a yelp as Suna steps forward, wrapping you in his big arms and collapsing onto the bed.

“I love you, you know that?” He declares loudly, taking every playful kick you really don’t mean as you giggle uncontrollably, “Get off of me, Rin!” 

Suna snickers, kissing the crown of your head, “I can’t let go of you! Not until I make things right!” Your stomach already hurts from laughing as you writhe against him, feeling the lovely placements of tender kisses peppered across your face. 

“Let go before I put another dent in your car!” You shout, earning a bout of laughter from your boyfriend, “Low blow! I’m still recovering!” Suna knows that today was supposed to be bad, and for the most part it really was. But right now he has you pressed up against him like this, he can feel the rise and fall of laughter in your ribs, he smells the powdery scent of your shampoo, and presses his face into yours as close as physically possible. Yeah, he thinks, bad days don’t really exist if they all end like this.

[bad268]

Frank Told Us (Colby Brock X Pregnant! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co

Requested: Yes by @eattothebeatt and anon. I hope y'all don't mind that I combined them, they were pretty similar. (Also, since I'm ahead on requests, I'm gonna post Wednesdays and Saturdays until it's cleared <3)

Warnings: slipping in snow (idk).

Pronouns: She/her

W.C. 1263

Summary: The Conjuring House is no joke, especially when a certain ghost (Frank) ruins a surprise.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

The Conjuring House was no joke, that was a fact that Y/n knew well. After going to the Conjuring House on three separate occasions with Sam and Colby and being witness to some crazy things, she didn’t need any convincing of that.

This time was one to top the charts. Ever since Sam and Colby heard about Satori and Cody, they knew that they wanted to meet them and get their expertise on camera. So Y/n decided to go with them. However, one thing happened about a week before the flight that may have changed the trajectory of the trip.

Y/n missed her period.

She took a test and met with her gynecologist, and they both came to the same conclusion. She was pregnant. She was not super far along, a little over a month, but she was not sure if she should go on the trip. After talking it over with her gynecologist, they decided she should be fine as long as she stepped away when it got too much and did not put herself in dangerous situations. She knew that if she had told Colby that they were expecting, he would abort the whole video, and she knew she did not want to be responsible for that

So they arrived at the Conjuring House. Sam and Colby in the front and Kat and Y/n in the back. Satori and Cody said they would meet them there, so they did not worry about getting a bigger car.

“Are you guys ready for this?” Sam asked enthusiastically as he pulled into the driveway.

“Are you ready to get another attachment?” Kat snapped back jokingly, causing Sam’s jaw to drop and the rest of the car to laugh.

“No need to come for my brother like that,” Colby defended, turning back to point a finger at Kat.

“You should definitely put this at the end of the video,” Y/n added, directing everyone’s attention to the camera that was recording.

“Anyway, what’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby,” Colby started the intro.

“Today, well, this week, we are at the Conjuring House with Kat and Y/n!” Sam continued.

“These guys get 10 million subscribers, and we get dragged into this,” Y/n laughed gesturing to Kat as they climbed out of the car, so Sam and Colby could do their intro in peace. The two walked into the house and greeted Satori and Cody. The four made small talk until Sam and Colby came into the house.

“I see you made yourself comfortable without us,” Colby teased as he sat next to Y/n on the couch and laid his arm over her shoulder. “Do we know how we're going about tonight?”

“I think we’re just letting Satori and Cody do their thing and we’ll go with the flow,” Y/n explained as she leaned into Colby’s side. “What do you guys think? It is your video.”

“I think that’s fine,” Sam said, setting up the cameras. Kat started pulling out different gadgets and placing them around the room.

“We’re ready to start whenever you guys are,” Satori offered, moving to stand up with Cody. Colby stood up as well before he turned back and held his hand out jokingly for Y/n to stand up.

“Well, thank you, kind sir,” Y/n joked in a mock posh accent.

“You’re welcome, governess,” Colby joked back, causing the two to chuckle before turning serious again. “Ok, back to the task at hand-”

Hours later, Satori and Cody were still getting so much in response. It was nearing midnight at this point, and they were still nonstop. After the third hour, Y/n got a huge headache, and it did not prove to be a problem until the knocks started getting louder.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get some fresh air. My head hurts,” Y/n announced as she stood up and walked out the door, not waiting for a response. Kat immediately said she would follow Y/n and trailed behind her as they walked through the snow carefully toward the car.

“Are you okay? You’re really pale,” Kat asked as they leaned against the hood of the rental car.

“I have a huge headache, and honestly, I need to tell someone,” Y/n admitted and let out a sigh before saying, “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed excitedly, reaching out to hold Y/n’s hands. “You’re serious? Oh my god, I’m so happy for you guys! Does Colby know?”

“If I told him, he wouldn’t have let me come,” Y/n laughed as Kat pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad I finally told someone. I’ve been keeping that to myself for the last week.”

“You’re kidding!” Kat exclaimed again. She was too excited because when she jumped away from the car, she pulled Y/n with her and they both lost their footing. “Woah!”

“Ouch! Kat!" Y/n laughed as she landed on her back in the snow with Kat leaning over her. They were laughing like maniacs despite knowing that one or both of them could have been seriously injured. “What the hell? You’re crazy, get off me.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Satori and Cody kept at it with Sam and Colby, teaching them along the way. The first person they connected with asked about Colby, so Satori and Cody took back over. 

“Way to go, Colby,” Sam jokingly scolded. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Colby joked back.

“You want to talk to Colby?” Satori asked as was met with a knock immediately. “Okay, what is your name?” She went through the alphabet and found the name they were spelling out. “Frank? Yes. Colby, do you know a Frank?”

“Not off the top of my head,” Colby answered, “Who are you to me?” Satori started the alphabet again and the knocks spelled out:

“Grandfather? No, Great-grandfather? Yes,” Satori interpreted. “What message do you have for Colby?” The knocks started back up and what it spelled caused a chill to run down everyone’s spines. “Protect? Protect who?...Y/n. Protect Y/n from what?”

They did not get an answer as they heard shouting from outside, causing Colby to bolt out the door immediately.

“Y/n?” He shouted, not caring that it was midnight. His ears were ringing, and his heart stopped when he saw Y/n laying in the snow. He could not breathe, and he could not register that the girls were laughing and not in danger. He slid down to be down by Y/n’s head as he held her hand. “Holy shit, are you okay? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“All good, Colby,” she laughed, pushing Kat off her as she stood up. Y/n inspected the snow around her as she felt around her stomach,  “I don’t see any blood and I don’t feel any pain, so I think we’re both good.”

“Yeah, you and Kat look fine to me,” Colby sighed as he took Y/n into his arms.

“No, not Kat, no offense,” Y/n retorted before looking up at Colby as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She whispered, “Me and the baby.”

“Baby? Whose baby? My baby? Our baby?” He asked so quickly Y/n could not keep up with him as he held her at arm’s length before cheering loudly when she nodded her head. He ran back to the house to tell Sam only to find Sam, Satori, and Cody standing at the doorway. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah, Frank just told us.”

~~

Part 2 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hotel Room

PAIRING: Tangerine x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2392

SUMMARY: changing plans midway into a mission in Tokyo- you, Tangerine and Lemon decide to stay in a hotel instead of taking the bullet train.

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ only. dry humping, pinv, unprotected sex, pull out. no use of y/n MINORS DNI.

A/N: this is my first post and im a little scared to post it, so please plz be kind. I tried to keep it as accurate as possible, however I accidentally made Tangerine kinder than I had originally planned and changed some things about the film plot so it doesn’t create a domino effect in this- aka Tan dying

rewritten 09/12/23 - no change to the plot, just made it less crap

"I don't think we should be getting this train," you mutter like you were talking to yourself, eyes darting across the busy platform of the station. "Guys?" you repeat, turning to see only Lemon behind you. "I don't think we should get this train."

"Yeah?" Lemon hums, sounding distracted.  

"I have a bad feeling. The next one is in thirty minutes. I say we wait," you respond, wary eyes glancing around.

Tangerine joins you both, looking over the tickets he just collected. "What's that now?" he questions, brows furrowed.

"I got intel someone I used to know might be on here," you murmur, avoiding the Twins' focused gaze.

"Like an ex?" Tangerine prods, his tone slightly cautious.

"No— stop it. I'm being serious," you emphasise, eyes squinting to show your annoyance.

Usually, when others act possessive around you, you'd turn the other way - having no interest in games. But when you talk about other guys in front of Tangerine, you'd often notice how his forehead vein would subtly protrude, like he was bubbling with rage from the inside - keeping it hidden. Though you'd always notice. It wasn't hard to tell when he was jealous. His quick, snappy comments are often the main giveaway.

"Alright, alright. Keep'ya knickers on, bellend," he scoffs, crossing his arms and widening his stance as if he was trying to intimidate you - which it doesn't.

"Okay, so, you remember Johannesburg? When we saw that guy— dirty blonde, mid-length hair? Facial hair? Yellow outfit. Looked like a prisoner? That one?" 

"No, not really," Lemon adds, shaking his head - looking clueless.

"Lemon. You shot him— a few times."

"No, not ringing a bell," he continues, just as clueless as before. "Oh, you mean Joburg?"

Tangerine pipes in, sighing. "Yes, you daft fuck."

"Well, I was just checking."

"Yeah, but it ain't important now, is it?" the twins bicker, overlapping each other.

"Oh my god," you mutter, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "Right, anyway, none of that's important. I used to work with him— Ladybug, like way way way back. I got a tip-off he's gonna be getting this train, and he's clearly been assigned to snatch that case," you nod to the silver briefcase tucked under Lemon's arm. 

"We can keep the case safe. We got hired for that reason," Tangerine adds, subtly reassuring you. 

"No, no. That doesn't matter. He's seeing a new therapist, and he's got some weird fate, destiny thing protecting him— like everyone except him gets hurt. I dunno about you, but I don't really feel like getting shot at again today."

You look between the brothers, eyes softening like you are talking without words - telling them things to make them take your side, to make them see that you're trying to protect them. You find it harder to pull away from Tan's fixed blue gaze, feeling strangely hypnotised under his attention.

"Okay," Tangerine agrees simply. "We'll wait," he nods, extending his hands towards you, resting them on your shoulder as if he's comforting you - telling you in his own way that everything will be okay. He rips his hands away when he hears a cough from beside him - Lemon suspicious at the placement.

The kind gesture wasn't long-lived, but it helped. A lot.

You suggest staying in a nearby hotel for the night, offering to try again in the early hours of the morning. The case would be safe, and that's what mattered.

————

You and the twins walk into the quiet hotel lobby, asking for three rooms - preferably all next door to each other. Once collecting the key cards, you make your way up to your floor, letting yourselves into your rooms with a quick nod to one another, silently saying goodnight.

After the nonstop events of today, all you wanted was to shower. To wash away the grime of the day, literally.

You throw your overnight bag on the floor and do a quick sweep of the room to check it's safe, then head into the bathroom, stepping into the shower to begin a lengthy wash.

Afterwards, you pat yourself dry with a fluffy hotel towel, dressing in an oversized tee when you hear a few rhythmic knocks at the door. You look through the peephole to see a wet, curly-haired, ‘stached man - there was only one person that could be.

You tug on the hem of your t-shirt, covering your exposed thighs as you open the door, greeted by Tangerine on the other side wearing a baggy tee and a pair of boxers.

His eyes leisurely travel over you, slowly pulling away from your thighs that you subtly tried to hide. He coughs, clearing his throat like he's refocusing, diverting his attention from your lower half back to your fresh face.

"Just doing bed check. And you are... ahem," he masks the pause in another cough. "You are accounted for. So that's. That's good."

"Right, okay," you murmur, purposely keeping your gaze fixed on his face - stopping your eyes from glancing lower.

He hesitates, lingering like that wasn't all he knocked for. You wanted to invite him in. To hang out for a bit. But you get all finicky and squirrely when it's just the two of you, and you never know what to say or do. It was like you couldn't think straight, his aftershave and biceps acting like a barrier in your brain. Besides, it's not like anything can happen between you anyway - he didn't like you in that way.

He clears his throat once more, scratching the back of his neck. "My tv ain't working. I don't wanna watch Lem's shit, so can I watch some in your room?"

Letting out a small puff of a sigh, you agree and move aside, allowing him to walk past. He settles in almost instantly, shimmying himself under the covers and flicking through the channels, trying to find something good to watch.

You sit down awkwardly beside him, leaving a safe and comfortable gap between you, subtly scootching away when he moves closer to you.

"What's up with you? You're being well weird," he asks, diverting his attention from the Japanese game show to you, looking over you with furrowed brows.

"I'm not being weird. You're being weird," you divert, crossing your arms over yourself, trying to minimise space. "Just trying to get comfy."

"That's cos'ya hanging off the bed, knobhead. Get closer, then."

He swiftly pulls you closer, gently dragging you towards him so that both of you are leaning against the headboard, his arm draped over your shoulder.

It was the complete opposite of what you were trying to accomplish - now smushed up close to his side, forced to smell his masculine shower gel. You had no idea what to do with yourself.

You have only been this close in proximity a few times. And on those occasions, one of you would always be drunk - never to be brought up again. But when you're sitting so close to him, both completely sober, your brain can't help but stir up those feelings you've been trying to suppress.

Lewd and vulgar thoughts spiralled around when you feel the steady sound of his heartbeat against your arm, everything so casual and natural - like everything was a breeze with him. Your mind begins to wander when you feel him shift beside you, legs spreading, groin adjusting like he was making himself comfortable - like he was situating himself in your bed for the night.

In your line of work, you don't often experience genuine human interactions - ones that are soft and gentle, ones filled with tender love and care. Every encounter lately has ended in a blood bath - literally. 

So when you feel Tangerine's hand slip into yours, you can't help but overthink it. It was so unlike him to physically show how he felt, so it was tricky not to question his motives.

His thumb swipes over your hand, softly squeezing yours, so you decide to look up at him, but he is already focused on you - the tv a mere thought away. The way he looked at you was so unexpected, so different to all the other times. 

All you could offer under his concentrated attention was a faint and gentle smile, nose softly scrunching as you held his gaze. He returns with a boyish grin, tache twitching with the movement.

You momentarily break eye contact, quickly glancing down at his lips. You thought you were sneaky, but the way his breathing ever so slightly faltered told you otherwise. 

He slowly leans towards you, his movements articulate and calculated as he pulls you in for a kiss, working over your lips carefully and considerately. His large palms nestling on the side of your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - everything turning somewhat desperate. Hasty.

His mouth travels away from your slightly bruised lips, now working along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Muttering faint groans into your skin as you tug on the damp curls at the back of his head - holding him close to you.

Tangerine's movements remain dominant. In charge. Guiding you and bringing you down the bed, laying you flat on your back so he can situate himself between your spread legs - hovering atop of you with his chest pressed to yours.

His cock feels firm against you, tucked and slotted perfectly between your thighs, nudging and brushing your clit with every subtle move he makes. 

It wasn't long before you found yourself whimpering into his mouth and toying with your hips, the dry humping working you up more than you had thought.

He parts from your lips, looking into your hazy, blissed-out eyes -ones that mirror his own- and begins to lazily push up your tee, stroking up your stomach, exposing just what he wanted to see; plushy tits and cute soft tummy. 

You help him out of his t-shirt, wanting to see more. Eager fingers trailing over the contours of his stomach before pulling him back to you, his happy trail brushing against your abdomen - chests sandwiched together. 

He trails a faint line of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone as he slips himself from your grasp, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He picks up your hand, sliding his gold rings onto your fingers. "Look after these for me, would'ya?" he whispers, kissing the back of your hand.

It's then that he finally slips a hand between your legs, faintly trailing up and down your slit, teasing you as he palms his cock through his tented boxers, circling over the wet patch of fabric - right by his head.

His gaze remains lidded, lazily looking over you as he dips his hand into the waistband, rolling over his aching cock a couple of times. Your eyes respond pleadingly, silently begging him to hurry up.

Your keen fingers make haste movements, brushing over his boxers like you were trying to strip them from him - doing his job for him. 

He answers your prayers and tugs down the fabric, flinging his briefs to the edge of the bed, letting his thick, hard cock spring free. He grips himself at the base, guiding his head towards your slick hole - rimming his tip around before slowly easing in. 

He goes slow, steady. Like he has all the time in the world. Letting you adjust and accustom his size, deeply filling you. Bottoming out.

With his cock stuffed inside, he leans over you once more, hovering over you and caging you to the mattress - your arms and legs clinging onto him, wrapping around him like a monkey on a tree. 

"Fuck me," Tangerine blabbers, voice hoarse and incoherent. Hot grunts against your throat as he winds into you, cock grinding inside you. "Christ."

He brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks, holding you still so he can lap over your lips, swallowing your whimpers - your sweet pretty sounds muffling against his tongue. 

Your touch mirrors his, moving your hands from his back to hold either side of his face, pushing away a stray curl that fell. Holding him close. Keeping him there.

Tangerine quickens the pace, fucking into you a little better. More deliberatly. The curve of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls in the most sinful way.

He chases your release, wanting to feel you shudder and tighten around him - wanting to feel you cum on his cock. So, he parts from your lips and trails messy open kisses over your cheek, halting when he reaches under your ear. 

"You feel so perfect wrapped around me—  you're so perfect," he hazily whispers, talking low. "God— yeah, that's it," he nods slowly, encouraging you. "You're right there, pretty girl. I can feel it."

With his soft praise, you find yourself gripping onto his dick, tightly clamping around him as you cum. Moaning sweet cries senselessly into the crook of his neck.

Your release triggers his own, pumping his thick, warm load onto your stomach, biting back broken groans as he milks the rest of his cum onto your jittering tummy. 

He leans back over you once more, placing a lingering kiss on your lips before pushing himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom.

Returning with a lusty smile and a wet washcloth, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you, gently wiping it over your stomach before doing the same with his cock, rubbing the fabric over his leaking, messy tip.

"We should've done that years ago," you whisper, flattening your tee down your stomach.

"Fuckin' years ago," he coyly grins, raking back his now-dried curls.

Your smile widens, meeting his eyes. "You, uh... you can stay over? If you want... so you— you can watch tv?" you offer, trying to persuade him - finding a reason for him to stay.

"For the tv," he chuckles, nodding. Playing along

He slips into the bed beside you, tugging the covers up and settling himself next to you. His large, warm arms find you under the sheets, holding you to his side.

"We got an early start. Get some sleep, love," he whispers, placing a delicate kiss on your temple. "Goodnight."

[neetily]

Hi hi! I'm glad to see you again, I hope you're doing okay!!

I was wondering if you had backups for your follower event fics? If you did, I'd love to see the seb + sam fic where the reader was trapped in a fence. If you don't have access it's okay! I'm just glad you feel comfortable enough to come back. Take care <3

hello love! thank you so much for the warm welcome back <3 !! im doing so much better now, thank you :D !!

i have backups of ALL my fics surprisingly. i didn't know i would, i thought they were all lost lol... but ao3 emailed me every single one so YEAH, i have the fic ur looking for!! here it is below <3

— ✧ warnings: stuck trope, oral fixation, spitroast, blowjob, established relationship (fuckbuddies), fingering, drool, saliva, brief cunnilingus, kissing, ass slapping — ✧ word count: 3,928

The opportunity that you've so unfortunately provided them today is stressful for only one out of the three present, and she's currently only went and got her dumb ass stuck in that rickety old fence he's made a comment or two about fixing before. Even offered to fix it up for you himself, the few times he's leaned on it for stability have resulted in his complete mistrust for the splint wood, worried that it might end up hurting you one day. From his position though, and Sam's, it's rather funny to see you between the slats if nothing else. Told ya so rests heavily on the tip of his tongue, begging to be tutted down at you with as much ill-intent as he feels in his tight chest. But what escapes him instead is a loud whistle, a little walk around your embarrassing predicament so as to fully take in the regrettable situation you find yourself in, because someone has to do it, right? And it sure as fuck isn't gonna be you, your face squished against the dirt below, ass up in the air for them to gawk at— did ya have to wear a skirt today, too? Almost as if you were intending for them to walk in on the lewd sight, the kind of imagery that only exists in porn to his knowledge. Not that he's complaining, really. A smile tugging at his lips as he assesses the scene with butterflies in his tummy.

It's the perfect opportunity, really. A quick glance towards Sam offering him the filthy resolution he's been seeking. The cheeky smirk his friend wears in kind, an unspoken communication of: she won't mind, right?

Given that they've played with you on plenty occasions before; were you perhaps trying to entice them on purpose? Needy little thing like you, getting yourself stuck in such plain view like that, knowing that they were planning on visiting today to help around the farm; and not just an excuse to play with you some more, promise! His boot coming out quick to kick at the fence where you aren't posted, the shrill squeak you let out in return from feeling the vibrations run along your trapped body tells him all he needs to know.

You really are stuck, you fucking idiot.

He walks to your front, bending his knees to squat before you. One finger under your chin to help tilt your gaze up to his half-lidded stare, a knowing smirk on his lips when you let out a low huff of disapproval at his leering. "How'd this happen, then?" He cocks his head to the side, peripheral vision granting him clarity on what Sam intends to do as his friend gets situated behind you, gaze glued to your ass as you unknowingly wiggle around for freedom. All you're doing is teasing them, baby... Inherently provocative, pushing their buttons without even trying. So really, it's your own fucking fault that he's bulging in his pants right now, isn't it? Which is why he feels no guilt in openly palming away between his legs, cock already hot and heavy under his perverted touch while awaiting your surely useless reply— it doesn't matter what you have to say for yourself, he's already made his mind up. And he's sure Sam is much the same, cock quickly hardening from behind your ass at the wordless agreement to take advantage of you in such an erotic position. Wouldn't you do the same if the roles were reversed? Fuck, now that's an idea, huh?

After some time, what is in actuality probably just a few seconds of more than likely resigning to your trapped fate, you answer him with a sigh. "Was trying to fix it, like you suggested..." Course you were, he thinks to himself. Didn't think to ask him for help like how he had offered, Sam too. Knowing that a dumb little girl like you wouldn't know where to even start when it comes to fixing things, right? So it's no surprise to him that you've gotten yourself in such a sticky situation; in more ways that one, soon enough, if he and Sam have anything to do about it. And really, it's only their opinion that truly matters right now, if you want any kind of hope of escaping your self imposed confines today that is. "And— Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm here now, and no matter what I do I can't get out..."

He finally lets go of that self serving tut upon your lacking explanation, smiling to himself at Sam's matching patronising laugh. It's more than a shared want to exploit you for your mishap, rather, a deep seated need to express their mutual affections for you, in perhaps the filthiest way possible. Because it's the most easily understood confession, right? The finger he's got lifting your chin up dropping, and your head swiftly follows, still eagerly palming away at the tent in his pants when Sam places a hand on your ass and you jump in response—as much as possible given your stuck position—in an honest display for their eyes to feast on. You're real cute when you're unsure, bunny.

"Need some help?" Sam asks rhetorically, but the tone he carries his words with resembles more like a sugary sweet coo rather than anything genuine. A flirt, to an extent, letting his hand lightly grab and squeeze at the fat of your barely covered ass; you always were so good at teasing them, weren't you? So you've got no one to blame but yourself when his thumb digs into your ass, pulling at the cheek to taunt your stupidity, giving you a brief wow at the assumed sliver of cunt you offer him from behind your panties. "It'd sure be a shame if someone were t'find you stuck like this, right?" He practically slurs from above, enamoured by the sight of your pretty panty clad ass greeting him. It's one he's grown used to, late at night in your bedroom, even once or twice in the saloon bathroom, taking turns with Sebastian on who keeps watch to make sure no one but themselves get to see the mess their cocks fuck you into. But nonetheless, it's a pretty sight. Especially when his fingers dig harder into your ass, so soft and plush under his perverted touch, aren't you? And so ripe for the taking too, a sweet fruit for him to indulge in while Sebastian talks all nicely to you. All platitudes and pleasantries, keeping the faux casual act up as a means to make the situation just a little hotter. And it gets to Sam, too. Cock pulsing in his tight pants as you wiggle under his exploring touch, driven to tease you some more with the low condescending hum Sebastian lets out, as if he were scolding you.

But he's not, is he? The drone of his voice conveying only appreciation, instead. A small thanks for offering them such a prime opportunity. "Oh, but someone has found you, haven't we?" He begins, the sound of his zipper surely causing you to shiver some more against Sam's hands, made worse only by the tinkle of his friends belt unbuckling, quickly dropping to the ground beside you with a muted thud! "You're lucky it was us, sweetheart," He continues, fighting with his jeans to be able to tug them down low enough to let his cock spring free, the cool air that greets his red hot tip prompting beads of precum to drip for you. Aren't you thirsty, baby? It's a rather warm day today, after all, and God knows how long you've been stuck there. Thankfully, he knows exactly how to help quench you.

"Lucky t'have your friends here t'help you out, right?" Sam picks up where Sebastian left off, taking a harsh suck of air through gritted teeth when he inevitably starts playing with your panties out of instinct. Pinging them against you like the sadist he seems to be, just to hear you whine and beg for mercy. And he laughs to himself, dark and deep, all toothy for Sebastian to mimic when Sam too hauls his cock out of his underwear. Sebastian can't help but noticed the throb of it, veins popped with all the blood collected there. God you're so pretty when you're being so easy for them like this, Sebastian's chest tight at the mere thought of abusing your sorry state of affairs, cock leaking for you before he's even enacted his twisted plans.

"Guys, please—" You plead so prettily, did y'know that? The honeyed tone you adopt can only mean one thing, simply hearing you implore them to be of any actual use is enticing enough, Sebastian's cock twitching and dripping before you. But he waits, listens patiently to hear your plea before denying you the right of salvation. You'll get there, soon enough, but don't you owe them something first? "I've been here for so long, it hurts a little... Can you quit teasing and actually help me?"

They both bark laughter down at you, Sebastian taking to idly fucking his fist while Sam lazily flips your skirt up, enough to allow him to hook a finger under the waistband of your panties to pull them down. Sebastian watches as they pool around your ankle, squeezing the base of his cock a few times in response to Sam's rolled back eyes. "She's so wet already, Seb." Sam rasps, immediately poking and prodding about your perfect angel cunt like routine, finger stroking out those dulcet toned moans for Sebastian to affectionately smile at. Dirty girl, do you like getting caught?

"This what you need help with, right?" Sebastian coos down at you, once again lifting your head up to meet his sultry gaze, swallowing thickly at the sight of your furrowed brows and wobbly lips. His own throat dries as you stare back at him, knowing that he could cum at just the mere thought of your open, wanting, ready to receive cock, mouth. And here you are offering him that sulky expression for free; God, makes his cock ache from how desperately he needs you. "Sure seems like it," He huffs, expression turned a little more serious in the face of your unashamed lust; you might need actual help in freeing yourself, but you can't resist the opportunity of their attack, can you? You're no fucking better than they are, panting over you as if you were the tastiest fucking meal in the world, teeth baring in barely contained excitement to take a bite of you.

And Sam only confirms your stance with how squishy your cunt sounds for him, squelching and sucking his fingers in every time he buries them knuckle deep in your cunt. Exploring your insides like he's done countless times before, and yet still he's impressed with how soft and warm you are. Just a little stretching to help you take his cock, right? You're so used to him by now, don't you love the stretch he provides you? "Bet y'did this on purpose, didn't ya?" He sneers, knowing you can't properly reply when he's flicking the pads of his fingers against your soft spot.

"No... Promise, ah— It— It was an honest mistake..." You mumble your innocence, but the sound of your whiny moans thanks to Sam's fingers deep in your cunt goes right through Sebastian, straight down to his raging hard on that needs attending to, now that you've went and riled him up so easily like that. Joining his friend in kind when he grabs hold of his cock, still keeping your face up for your glassy eyes to peer at him, only... He now angles his cock right in front of you. Dangles it there, waggling it just out of reach of your lips to enjoy your eager whining. He's acting cocky for a reason, confident in Sam's abilities to finger fuck you all better so that he can have some fun with that expert mouth of yours— fuck, so good with your tongue, aren't you? And if he's honest with himself, he'd rather be balls deep down your throat than in your cunt, even if only by a small margin. Taking the opportunity to tap his tip against your lips when they part in pleasure, all thanks to Sam. Toying with you to his hearts content as you remain prone to his mistreatment, smearing fat globs of precum all over your pretty lips to leave them all wet and glossy for him to admire. You wear him well, he thinks to himself. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head when you deftly poke your tongue out for him, he was right. You are thirsty, aren't you? Being stuck must be hard work, poor girl... He's more than happy enough to give you a little drink— ecstatic, even, at the prospect of having your cute pouty lips wrapped tight around his cock. Needs it, really. Now that you've gone and provoked his open book obsession by lolling your tongue out, drooling to the ground under you in a lewd display. You're just so attractive to him, his heart skipping a beat at the way your body begs for his unfair touch. He only means to help you, right?

He's only doing you a favour by dipping his tip to your tongue, exhaling sharply at the wetness that immediately greets him. This must be how Sam feels right now, yeah? Fingering slick from your cunt while Sebastian indulges in your spit. Letting you kitten lick at it for a bit, merely watching you with curiosity as your eyelashes flutter shut so prettily he has no choice but to fall to his knees in submission. Fuck, you're already making him feel so good. If he could keep your moth attached to his cock forever, he'd do so in a heartbeat. Warm, wet, and so skilled; fucked that tight throat enough times to train you into being his personal blowjob hole, huh? Seething to himself at the way you lap up all of the copious amounts of precum your tongue coaxes from his cock, eyes trained on the cute pout you soon adorn because Sam's found your sweet spot. Not surprising, given that he's usually deep in your cunt some way every weekend, but Sebastian reacts as he usually does. With a hushed curse under his breath, instinctively bringing a hand up to your lips to fish hook your mouth back open for him. Leaking pre at the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers, drool collecting down his wrist as your tongue once again pokes out for his own selfish enjoyment. Taught you well, didn't he?

It's just that you look so good with a mouth full of cock, don't you? Hovering above you, repositioning himself so that it's easier to glide his cock down your throat when Sam withdraws his fingers from your cunt, causing Sebastian to grown out of desperation when his friend starts to coat his own cock with your slick. He knows how slippery you can get, but the view he has of your face from above, adorned by an aware welling of tears from their unjust treatment of your wedged body right now, is something he'd rather be viewing. Something he'd rather be taking advantage of, pressing his fat tip to your wanting tongue just in time to feel you rush a gasp out against him when Sam ultimately pushes his cock into your tight heat from behind out of necessity. A natural conclusion to seeing you present your holes to them today, Sebastian too taking advantage of you by sinking himself deeper into your mouth, causing your moans from Sam's slow rutting into you to become muffled around his cock.

"Jus' cashing in a favour before setting you free, babe." Sam struggles to get out from behind you, and Sebastian lets you know he agrees by tauntingly tapping at your cheek a few times. More spit, baby.

And you take them both so well, like a well trained dog, or a practiced doll. Easily allowing them to use you to their hearts content, a seedy sordid type of affair as they both fill you up all at once, leaving you a mere object of their affections as you're forced to accept their spitroast. But you're such a champ, God, Sebastian shoving his cock as far as he can down your tight throat until you start to gag a little, sweet little sounds vibrating around his tip for him to shudder a breath at. And Sam, eager to get the party started as per usual, offers you a brief smack on the ass with a wide grin. His tone tense when he praises you with: "So good, tight fuckin' body just wants to be fucked, right?" before he starts a quick enough pace to leave even Sebastian a bit winded from the sudden stimulation provided by your soft tongue rocked back and forth his throbbing cock.

Not that Sam can be faulted, mind you. Sebastian, too, wants to start ruining you, two palms secure on your cheeks to keep your head situated in the right place for him to fuck your throat in. Bending his body towards the fence, leaning his head against the broken post for stability so that all you can see is his pelvis, nose pushed up against his pubes every time Sam greedily fucks you forward. Sebastian winces a little at your movements, knowing that the wood might be scraping against your tender frame with how selfish Sam's thrusts are, but he can't bring himself to say anything about it when your tongue snakes around his length so well, just the way he likes. A blessing and a curse, honestly. Drool collecting in your mouth for him to fuck into, completely coating his cock in all of your saliva, feeling some of it dribble down your chin to land on his balls when he starts to fuck your throat in tandem with Sam's humps. Which is so fucking hot by the way, fuck— how you're unable to contain yourself, dribbling all over him so nicely that his tummy flips with excitement. You deserve some more praise for indulging him, he thinks. For getting yourself stuck in the first place, as well as for servicing them so perfectly; but your tight throat leaves him gasping for air. Panting over the fence as he takes in the sight of Sam's determination too, greedy hands gripping harshly to your hips, brows knitting together in sheer focus of your tight angel cunt. And then, their eyes meet. Mid stroke together, matching each others speed and intensity flawlessly as you choke and sputter between them, bet your squishy thighs are trembling together too, huh? Your dainty hands attempting to find purchase in the ground below as Sebastian's balls repeatedly knock against your chin, tacky with spit as his fat cock cuts off your air supply.

And what's a little kiss shared amongst friends, right? It wouldn't be the first, and it sure as shit won't be the last from how enthusiastically Sam leans forward, tongue already wetting his lips before Sebastian meets him with heated arousal. Openly moaning down each others throats as soon as possible, listening intently to your wet little cunt suck Sam's cock off so well, and your muffled whines for more when Sebastian pulls your head closer to his crotch with every desperate fuck down your throat. You're so perfect for them, pretty pursed lips wrapped so nicely around his pulsing cock, one of his hands slipping to the back of your head in plain need to fuck deeper, to feel the way your throat closes around his dribbling tip as you're forced to drink up all his spilling precum; just like how he's made to swallow every drop of saliva Sam drips onto his tongue, less sharing a heated kiss and more so acting like dogs. Lips barely pressed together, tongues interlocked, delving into each others mouths without ever fully closing the kiss, resulting in drool pooling onto your exposed ass.

It's all a bit too much for Sebastian. To be doing something so lewd out in public— fuck, anyone could walk by, couldn't they? And maybe they already have, greeted to the sight of the towns cute little farmer getting fucking abused by her best friends fat cocks, watching the way Sam and himself encourage the other to continue degrading you on your own turf by way of the intense kiss they share, moaning, humping, hands slipping and cocks gliding; God that's so hot, isn't it?

Hot enough for his fingers to intertwine in your hair, tugging on it harshly as a warning for his approaching orgasm. Sam, too, slaps your ass again once pulling away from the kiss. A look of pure pleasure on his face, coated in a light sheen of spit for Sebastian to stare at with adoration. Both huffing and moaning above you, too lost in the satisfaction your pretty body provides them to give you the compliments you deserve, too busy making themselves feel good by fucking your tight little holes to verbalize their thanks, their appreciation.

But you understand, right? You know that as Sam gives you a final brutal fuck, resting his heavy balls against your sopping cunt, bullying his tip against your cervix as a fat load shoots out just for you, that he's saying thank you, right? And that when Sebastian shoves his cock right down your closing throat, ignoring the sweet sputters for air you choke around him, the way you flail around is so fucking hot, fuck, keep struggling to take him, baby, keeping your face flush against his pelvis so that he can properly reward you with his spilling seed to coat your throat all sticky, that he's saying thank you too, right? Both men heaving above and behind you, revelling in the feeling of your still needy body attempting to suckle them some more in hopes of reaching your own end, fuck, so good. Poor thing, they've neglected to appropriately tend to you in their rush to use you, haven't they?

But as Sam pulls out of your stretched hole, Sebastian follows. Hearts in his eyes at the way you immediately hack and cough towards the ground, drool still yet dripping from your pretty lips for him to smile lovingly at.

Not a word is shared, Sebastian content enough just to watch you struggle some more while Sam repositions himself to lay on the ground, face up towards your cunt as his arms wrap around your lower back, gently tugging you a bit closer to his nose for him to huff at your sweet cunt scent. Gross, isn't it? How the semen that sticks to your hole makes it smell all the better to him, dirty fucking pervert that he is.

A single lap at your slit is all it takes to have you moaning again, and for inspiration to strike Sebastian and his still rock hard cock.

Maybe he can have a shot of your cunt now, yeah? Or, maybe he'd like to shut you up again. Keep your cock holster mouth quiet so no one can find them forcefully misusing you. He does so love fucking that pretty mouth of yours, finding himself staring down at it again as you whimper oh so seductively for them.

They're only doing it to help you though, remember?

[lightupmyass]

The Reaper and The Angel

Pairing: Shuji Hanma x Tetta Kisaki's older sister (Unmei or reader)

Warnings: slightly dark themes (ie. light stalking), possession, first time, mentions of death, size kink, praise, multiple rounds, unprotected sex

Summary: Since he was a teen, Shuji Hanma had been down bad for his friend's big sister. But, after years apart, would he finally be able to make her his after so much had changed?

A/N: Hello everybody! I wanted to post this yesterday but I was at work all day so I didn't finish it, but it's finally done! This has a bit more story than my last two, it's definitely a bit longer, but I like it a lot and I hope you do too. I'm trying to post at least once a week, mainly on Wednesday nights, but with two jobs it kinda makes things a little difficult. Anyways, here you go! Enjoy! 💜

Shuji Hanma never thought he’d be the kind of guy that could be tied down. He never thought he’d be the kind of man to love so hard it hurt. Love wasn’t something he thought he was capable of. That is, until the first time he went over to the Kisaki household.

Sixteen years old, full of rage and hormones, he felt like he was on top of the world, that he and Tetta would rule all of Japan together, maybe even the world, without anything standing in their way. “Just sit wherever you want, but if you break anything, I’ll kill you.” Tetta warned, shedding his jacket off and organizing a bit. Shuji had made himself comfortable on the bed, acting as if it were his own and lounging against the pillow. It was super neat and organized in there, but he’d expect nothing less from his friend. The dull, seemingly ordinary teen had filled his life with color, brighter than any circus. He thought life couldn’t get better than this, more exciting, so imagine his surprise when the door opened and he was blinded by the sun.

“Tetta! Mom said it’s your turn to do the dishes, you were supposed to do them right after school. I’m not gonna get bitched at because you didn’t do your part. Go get them done.” Hanma’s smile faded as he sat up, staring at the beauty in the doorway. She was short, jet black hair with blue underneath, busty chest that spilled out of the little black tank top and showed off a tattoo of flowers above her heart and shorts so short Hanma was sure if she turned around he’d see part of her ass. Fuck, was he in love?

Tetta groaned loudly, slamming his fist on the desk. “Dammit, Mei, I just got home! And I have a friend over! I’ll do it later, just get out!” He shouted. The intruder sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes, popping her hip out. “Little shit. Does it look like I fucking care? Get your shit done before mom gets home or I’m kicking your ass.” She huffed before slamming the door closed, Tetta growing in frustration. “Fucking hell, can’t she get off my back for a single fucking second? Dumb ass bitch.” He grumbled, organizing things aggressively now. “Who is that?” Shuji whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed excitedly now. “My bitch ass sister, Unmei. Be happy you’re an only child. Can’t stand her.” Tetta explained. “Hey, why don’t y-hey, where the hell are you going?” He asked, turning around to find Hanma already heading out the door.

His feet were carrying him before he could think, searching all around for her. Hanma’ caught a glimpse of the long hair turning the corner, the tall teen jogging after his new obsession. He followed her all the way to a bedroom, staying at the door while she slipped out onto the patio. Shuji watched as she sat on a chair and lit up a cigarette, feeling his knees get weak. Did he just meet his dream woman? “What the hell are you doing?” Tetta came up behind him, grabbing his shoulder. The smaller teen peaked out from behind his friend, seeing what had him in a trance and scoffing. “What is your problem? Why are you staring at her like that?” He snapped. Hanma’ sighed dreamily, smiling like a fool and resting his head against the door frame. “Kisaki, I don’t know how to tell you this but…I’m gonna fuck your sister.” Hanma clapped, Tetta not even having time to respond or stop him before Shuji was out the patio door.

Unmei looked up at him annoyed, but Shuji had a big stupid smile on his face, crossing his arms and leaning against the door to stop Tetta from sliding it open. “Can I fucking help you?” She asked, the sassy tone giving him butterflies. “Ah, you looked a little lonely out here. Thought I might come out and give you some company, beautiful.” He tried to play it cool as Tetta banged on the door. Unmei grimaced as she looked him up and down, scoffing as she took another drag of her cigarette. “I don’t need any company, shitbag. Go bother someone else.” She told him, looking at the parking lot. Hanma laughed, not one to give up as he turned to look at Tetta, giving him the finger and walking backwards to lean against the railing. “Aw, c’mon, you ain’t gotta be like that. Just tryna strike up a friendly conversation. I’ll even smoke with ya.” He insisted, Tetta crossing his arms and tilting his head to watch what unfolded patiently. Hanma lit his own cigarette, Unmei watching him blow the smoke into the air as he draped his arms over the railing. “I didn’t know Tetta had a sister. Gotta say, you definitely got the looks in the family. Why don’t you and I ditch ‘im and go for a ride? Could show ya some real nice spots.” He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips.

The way she looked up at him with a cocky little smirk tugging at her pretty plump lips had him thinking he had it in the bag. When she curled a finger to beckon him closer he moved instantly, leaning down in front of her and blatantly staring at her chest. Her pretty manicured fingers grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging him down so they were face to face, Shuji feeling her breath on his lips and feeling himself tremble. Her smile faded, her pretty hazel eyes staring right into her soul as she grit her teeth. “Get. The fuck. Out of my room.” Unmei grumbled, breaking his heart as she let go of him. While he was still bent over in front of her she took another drag, blowing the smoke in his face. Before he processed it all a car door slammed from the parking lot below, Unmei looking around him and huffing out a sigh. “Unmei Kisaki, what have I told you about bringing those dangerous hoodlum boys around my house? And are you really smoking right now?” A shrill voice screeched, Hanma standing up to see a woman stomping towards the building. “I didn’t bring him, mom! It’s Tetta’s friend! They’re out here bothering me!” Unmei shouted back, getting up and pushing him back with a hand on his chest. “You liar! You! Get out of my house this instant and leave my no good daughter alone! I swear, you are a disgrace, Unmei!” Their mother started ranting as Hanma opened the door, letting Tetta hear everything. The younger muttered under his breath and stepped out, waving to the woman. “She’s right, mom! This is my friend, he’s just over so I can tutor him!” Tetta lied, their mother instantly relaxing. “Oh, alright, sweetie. Sorry about that, love! But, you should stay away from Unmei, she’s a bad influence. And put that damn cigarette out, young lady!” She called out, Unmei rolling her eyes and puffing at it again.

After that day, Hanma found every excuse he could to come over. But, it was easy to realize who was the favorite child. Tetta constantly complained about how over bearing his parents were, always encouraging him to get the best grades and always do school work. Unmei, on the other hand, was the problem child. Not that she really did anything bad, she just didn’t get good grades and hung out with some shady people sometimes. Shuji noticed she was forgetful, and she had the mouth of a sailor, but every time he was around her he fell more and more in love with her.

Their relationship never improved, he was always her little brother’s annoying friend, but he was sure he’d change that eventually. That is, until the Tenjiku and Toman fight happened. After Tetta died, he felt a hole in his heart. His life lost the color, becoming dull and boring once again. Of course, he was also a fugitive, so he couldn’t exactly make an appearance at the funeral. He did show up, though, dressed in a black hoodie and staying towards the back to avoid being seen. Of course, his eyes were on Unmei most of the time. Her long hair was pulled up out of her face, a nice blazer and skirt on as she sat behind her parents, who were sobbing. Her face was neutral, though, not a tear in her eyes as she started at the ground with a frown.

After the ceremony he’d followed her outside, seeing her sitting by herself on a bench with a cigarette. He wanted to go up to her, to say something, apologize for the part he played in the tragedy, say anything. But, he stayed back as her mother came stomping out, standing right in front of her with her hands on her hips. “Are you serious right now? Are you really smoking at your own brother’s funeral? How could you be so inconsiderate?” She yelled, slapping the stick out of Unmei’s hands. The young woman stared at the ground, face never changing. “I cannot believe I was cursed with such an ungrateful, belligerent, disappointing daughter! Y’know, maybe if you were a better influence on Tetta, none of this would have happened! I swear, you are the worst, Unmei!” Her mother cried out, turning on her heels and balling her fists at her sides. “He had so much potential. He was such a good, smart, respectful kid. It should have been you.” With those last words, she walked away, leaving Unmei to sit there in silence, remaining the same as sadness filled her eyes.

Unmei knew it was true. Of course, as much as she bickered with her brother, she loved him, and she wished she was a better influence on him. Maybe if she had done better, was closer to him, none of this would have happened. It should have been her. She’d been repeating that since it happened. But, she felt so empty, she couldn’t even react. So, she lit another cigarette and walked out, heading home to pack her bags and leave home.

Even years later, nothing had changed. She still felt nothing. She’d made ends meet at a dead end job, enough money to get her own place and buy basic things, like some food and plenty of alcohol. Day in and day out she woke up hung over, went to work, came home and ate a light meal, and drank herself to sleep. She had no friends, no aspirations, just loving day to day like a zombie, doing the bare minimum to keep herself alive even though she wanted nothing more than to die.

Shuji saw all of it. He couldn’t stop himself. The first time he visited Tetta’s grave after the incident, he promised that he’d make sure Unmei stayed safe. After that night…

“God, I hate you!” Tetta shouted as he slammed his door shut, huffing in frustration as Hanma laughed. “Mei Mei troubles again?” Tetta rolled his eyes at the little nickname he’d given his sister, plopping down onto his desk chair and tossing the bag of chips at him. “She’s so frustrating. Mom’s pissed because she doesn’t want to go to college, because she doesn’t think she’s smart enough, but I keep on telling her if she’d just apply herself and put in even the smallest effort that she could go far in life. She’s not stupid, she’s damn smart, she’s just so lazy and doesn’t believe in herself at all.” Tetta complained. “Weeeeell do you think maybe that’s because your mom always calls her a dumb piece of shit? Could be a possibility.” Hanma pointed out. “Mom only says that because she’s lazy and doesn’t want to do anything. Maybe if she acted as smart as she is, there wouldn’t be a problem. I just wish she’d start believing in herself a little. I’m worried she’s gonna end up on the street or in some shitty relationship relying on a man because she doesn’t think she can do anything on her own.” Tetta sighed. Hanma grinned wickedly, rocking side to side and laughing. “Aaawww, you wuv your big sister, don’t you?” He teased, Tetta’s face flushing red as he got embarrassed. “Shut the hell up! I’m tried of your dumb ass.” He huffed as he threw a half empty water bottle at his friend.

Shuji knew how much Tetta actually cared about his sister, so his first visit to his grave he promised to keep an eye on her. And he did, a close eye on her, even if she didn’t know. He made sure she got home safe every night, kept guys away from her, even got her the job she had after “convincing” the owner. She never had any boyfriends, he made sure of that. None of the guys he saw her talking to looked good enough for her, so he made sure they didn’t think they had a chance. Did he think he was good enough? Absolutely not. But, he’d be damned if she was going to end up with someone that didn’t meet the standards her brother had for her.

“God dammit.” Unmei groaned loudly as she poured the last of her whiskey into the can of Pepsi. She didn’t realize she was almost out, which meant if she wanted to get wasted tonight she’d have to go out and get more. Reluctantly, she shrugged on a jacket and slipped her shoes on, grabbing her keys and heading out the door. It was a simple walk, not too far away and one she did often. The liquor store was only 3 blocks away, but of course she kept her knife in her bra, always keeping it on her just in case. Unmei was always paranoid, always thinking someone was watching her. Whenever she was out, whenever she went home, at work, even at home, it felt like the eyes of the world were fixed on her, watching her every move.

She paid the man at the counter, bottle in a paper bag in her hand as she stepped outside, looking everywhere to check her surroundings. The night air slipped it’s way down her jacket, giving her a shiver as she bundled up with her free hand in her pocket. It wasn’t that far of a walk, she could be safe at home in about 10 minutes if she walked fast enough. Behind her, she jumped as she heard the sound of men laughing and giggling like school girls, Unmei looking over her shoulder to see the group. It was about 5 of them, maybe just out of high school. One of them was looking right at her, nudging his friend in the gut to get his attention and whispering to him, bringing all of their attention to her. Her body ran cold as her chest tightened, her feet moving faster as she tried to rush home.

Footsteps behind her got louder and faster, Unmei panting as she began to sprint down the street, hearing the laughing and calling out to her, telling her to stop and slow down. She was terrified, her heart racing as she ran. There was no telling what could happen if they caught up, she was incredibly outnumbered and outmatched. Tears spring into her eyes as she prayed she’d make it home okay.

The loud engine from a motorcycle came roaring down the street, Unmei watching the headlight get closer and closer as she hoped whoever was driving would notice. The bike came to a screeching halt right in front of her, Unmei stopping in her tracks as the tall figure dressed in all black revved the engine. “Unmei! Get on!” The deep voice called out to her, the footsteps behind still approaching. She didn’t have time to think, the man getting off and helping her sit down before he turned to the group, who had now come to a stop and began chattering amongst themselves. Unmei frowned as her savior let his hood fall down, the long black hair confusing her as he cracked his knuckles. Did she know that voice? And this bike, hadn’t she seen it before? Where did she know it from?

Hanma chuckled as he stepped closer to the group, the one in the middle stepping forward. “Look man, he ain’t mean no trouble. Just wanted to talk to the girl.” The young man insisted, putting his hands up in defense. Unmei watched as the bike owner swung without a second thought, knocking her pursuer out in one hit. The next few minutes were a blur, Hanma moving fast and quickly taking them all out while laughing, having more fun than he had in years. His light was back in his life, the long and dark night had ended the moment she looked at him, his sun rising above the horizon once more. As soon as they were all laid out on the ground he rushed back to his bike, getting on behind her and feeling how small she was against his body. “Grab the handlebars and hold tight.” He told her, Unmei tucking her bottle between her legs and doing as he said. His large hands engulfed hers, Unmei’s eyes going wide when she saw the tattoos, her heart skipping when she realized who it was while he revved the engine. “Shuji?” She whimpered quietly as he sped away.

He brought her back to her place without even asking, Unmei getting a sinking feeling in her gut when he parked. “You alright? They didn’t touch you, right?” He asked as he turned off the bike, helping her off carefully. Unmei was panting still, looking up at him and having the tilt her head all the way back. The golden eyes she knew so well looked down at her, long blond bangs framing his thin face as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, keeping her between him and his bike. “Shuji? Hanma? Is that really you? I-Its been so long, I-I don’t…” She whispered, shaking her head as she tried to process his presence. Hanma laughed, the sound giving her tingles all over. What was that feeling in her chest? “Its me, Mei Mei. It’s been a while, I know. You’re not hurt, right? Did they say anything to you?” He asked, pinching her chin to examine her face and make sure there weren’t any marks. “N-No, but…where the hell did you come from? How did you…how did you bring me home?” She asked, looking around her parking lot. “Your home? You live here too? I gotta friend that stays on the fourth floor, I was just driving by and saw you getting chased so I figured I’d help out and bring you back to a safe place. That’s all.” He lied. He lied through his teeth, so quick he even surprised himself. There was no way he could tell her he was watching her, that he knew how to get to her house from anywhere in the city. And of course she would believe it, because what other explanation would there be? “Oh, really? Wow, what a coincidence. I live on the third. I was just going to pick something up from the store, but when I left these guys started chasing me, and I was so scared. I’m glad you showed up, Shuji.” Unmei smiled at him, her first genuine smile in years. It blinded him, his heart melting as he smiled back. “Me too. I’m glad you’re okay, Mei Mei. Well, I should probably get back upstairs, my friend is waiting for me. See you around, yeah?” Shuji knew what he was doing. He was acting cool, nonchalant, knowing exactly how she would react.

As he turned on his heel, Unmei felt her heart drop, her breath hitching as she reached out for him. “W-Wait!” She gasped, grabbing him by the back of the jacket and keeping him there. “Hey, um, do you…maybe…wanna come over for a bit? It’s been so long, there’s so much to catch up on. Besides, I just got a new bottle. Have a few drinks with me?” She asked, her voice sweet as honey as he slowly turned around. Hanma looked her up and down, admiring her up close for the first time in years. She’d let her natural hair grow out and cut off all the dye, the dirty blonde hair falling in waves just barely pushing past her shoulders. The golden frames of her round glasses sat on the bridge of her nose so elegantly, she was looking more and more like her brother every day.

Hanma let out an exaggerated sigh, looking behind him at a random door. “I dunno, my friend’s been waiting for me for a while. Probably wondering where I am.” He frowned, looking back down at her and seeing the absolute disappointment on her face. How cute. “B-But…it’s been so long since I’ve seen you…and there’s so much to catch up on. Ever since we found out what happened and that you left I’ve been so worried about you, I didn’t know if you were alive or not, it scared me. I’ve missed you, Shu.” Unmei whispered. Hanma felt like he was on cloud nine as she looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, knowing he was still wrapped around her finger. “I don’t have any friends, never had a boyfriend, my parents haven’t talked to me since the funeral, I’m so alone.” Her body began to shake, the weight of it all taking over her as her eyes filled with tears. She was alone, she had no one. But now, there was someone she wanted around right in front of her, and he wanted to leave too? It was too much for her to handle, just the thought of not being wanted by him anymore sending her into a downward spiral. She always knew that he had the biggest crush on her. At first it was annoying, but then it turned kind of sweet. Then, everything happened and he disappeared, so by the time she was willing to come to terms with the fact that she had feelings for him, he was gone, supposedly forever. But now he was here again, and she had to beg for him to stay, she couldn’t let him leave.

Shuji smiled, stepping closer to her and gently placing a finger under her chin, tilting her head back to look at him properly as he towered over her. “Well, looks like you could use some company, beautiful.” He whispered, Unmei feeling her knees get weak as she smiled and giggled, remembering when they first met.

She led him up to her apartment, her stomach swarming with butterflies this whole time. It’d be a lie to say he didn’t get hotter. When he was young, the stupid up-do of his annoyed her sometimes, but the first time she saw him with his hair down after he’d taken a shower at their place, she realized maybe he wasn’t so ugly after all. But now, he was so much older, and the shoulder length hair was definitely working for him. Of course, the bags under his eyes an obvious sign he wasn’t sleeping well and making him look years older. Where was he even staying? Did he work? She had so many questions, but she couldn’t find the words as she kicked her shoes off. “Sorry, it’s not much. You can make yourself comfortable though.” She told him, setting the bottle on the counter and grabbing some glasses. Hanma looked around, interested to finally see the inside of her place. It really wasn’t much, just a kitchen that lead to the bedroom/living area, and a door he assumed lead to the bathroom, but it was cozy. It smelled nice as well, and it was pretty clean.

Unmei felt him move behind her, his hand resting on her hip as he pushed past her, making her toes curl as her body heated up from just having him so close. He heard her breath hitch, smiling to himself as he let his hand drag across her back before he made his way into the other room. It was decorated to the bare minimum, just a small dead plant in the window and a few manga on the shelf next to the TV. Very basic, but still cozy. He made himself comfortable on the floor, leaning against the bed and waiting for her to come in with two glasses and the bottle she just bought in here hand. “I hope you like whiskey, it’s the only thing I really drink.” She laughed nervously, setting it all down on the kotatsu and sitting down. Hanma laughed, smiling at her to relax her. “Whiskey is my favorite.” He told her, grabbing the glass she set in front of him and holding it up so she could pour into it.

It was silent for a bit, an awkward tension filling the air as Unmei looked around anxiously, unsure of what to say. One drink in silence turned into two, then by the third Hanma finally spoke up, tilting his head and smirking as he looked at her. “You bring me up here just to drink or did you wanna talk about something?” He asked, Unmei sitting up straight with wide eyes and gulping. She did wanna talk, she really did. “Sorry. I just…I don’t know what to say. Still kind of in shock you’re actually here. How…how have you been? Where have you been? What are you doing nowadays?” She asked, crossing her legs and bringing them to her chest. “Ah, this and that, been all over. Still on the run, y’know. Just keeping a low profile.” He sighed, twirling the glass and making the ice clink. “Right. I’m sure you’d probably get a lot of time for what happened. Our parents couldn’t believe Tetta played a part in what happened to that girl. Shima? Sora? I don’t remember. They dismissed it like it never happened, even when the cops insisted he did it.” Unmei said sadly, hanging her head low. “Sano. Emma Sano. And, don’t put the blame on him. Her own brother’s the one that made us do it. It wasn’t Tetta’s fault.” He lied.

The words made Unmei’s bottom lip quiver. Was that really true? Did her brother die from being someone’s puppet? “Who was it? Who made him do it?” She asked, looking back up at him as her breath shook. She saw his eyes darken as he frowned, the man letting out a deep sigh. “Izana Kurokawa. He was the leader of the group we were in. He died that day too.” He told her. Unmei could feel the world crash down around her. So, not only was her little brother used by this guy, but he was dead, so she couldn’t even get revenge? It hurt, she had no outlet for her anger. “Fucking shit. Why did he…why did it…fuck…” Unmei’s voice cracked as she felt a rush of grief for the first time in years. Every day had been dull and boring and emotionless, but now everything she’d pushed down the last few years instantly came flooding back, overwhelming her as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Hanma lunged forward, wrapping her up in his arms and gripping her hoodie as she gasped loudly, surprised by his embrace, his warmth. Was this what it really felt like to be hugged? It’d been so long, she forgot what such a touch felt like. “Its alright, beautiful. I’ve got you. You can let it out.” He cooed, Unmei whimpering as her lip quivered again. She wouldn’t have been able to hold it back even if she wanted to. Her arms wrapped around him as her face buried into his shoulder, muffled sobs and cries breaking his heart while her nails clawing at his back to keep him close made him feel other things.

“I know, baby. I know. I miss him too. But it’s not your fault, no matter what anyone says. You’re a good big sister, he loved you a lot.” Hanma whispered, hearing her wail and stroking her hair. How would that make her feel better? It just hurt more, her heart breaking into pieces. She loved her brother so much, why did he have to die so young? He had so much potential, he could’ve done amazing things, and this is what fate had in store for him? He could’ve been successful, he could’ve had a family, she could’ve been an aunt. But now all of the dreams she had for him were gone, any hope to see the boy she helped raise grow up washed away. “It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. He was so much better than me, so much better.” She cried out, Hanma pulling back a bit to look at her properly. Her face was completely red, soaked with tears and bangs a mess from being smashed against him. “Darling, no. Can’t think like that. You shouldn’t die either. Tetta would’ve been crushed if you did. He had so many big plans for you, so many dreams. He wanted to see you grow up and be happy, get a good job and meet a nice man, have a nice family. If you died instead, he wouldn’t have be able to live with himself. He’d have been broken.” Hanma explained, cupping her cheeks and wiping her tears away. Unmei stared at him in shock, her pretty lips parted as he wiped at the corners of them. “He…had dreams…for me?” She whispered, grabbing at his jacket and balling the fabric up in her tiny fists. “Of course. He wanted you to have the world, Unmei. Told me all the time how much potential he saw in you. He knew you could do great things, he wanted to see you thrive in life.”

The words hit her so deep. All of these years she wanted the best for her little brother, he wanted the same for her, and what did she have to show for it? If he was still alive, he’d be so disappointed, she knew that. Hanma saw her about to lose it again, shushing her and grabbing her by the waist. He tugged her onto his lap, holding her tight with a hand splayed on her back and the other tangling in her hair. She was so in shock from the action she didn’t even cry, her eyes like saucers as she sat in his lap, straddling him as he held her like his life depended on it. He was so big, so warm, his embrace completely surrounding her and giving her more comfort and safety than she’d ever felt in her life. “I know. I miss him too. So damn much. Everyday I wake up and think ‘I should’ve been with him’. ‘It should’ve been me’. It’s just not fuckin’ fair.” Unmei let out a shaky breath as she felt his body tremble against hers, his deep voice cracking as he gripped her hoodie. She never even thought about it before, but Shuji was the best friend Tetta ever had, he was there when it all happened. Why did she never consider he might be hurting just as much as she was, maybe even more? She frowned as she slowly reached up, stroking his long hair as his face buried in her neck, the quick, shaky breaths that fanned over her skin making her weak. “I know. It’s okay now. You’re here now, Shuji. Don’t have to feel alone anymore.” She cooed, brushing his hair out with her fingers.

Unmei felt so small in his grasp, Hanma slightly worried if he squeezed any tighter she might break. He always dreamed of holding her like this, to be so close and feel her warmth, smell her perfume, or cologne more like. She smelled amazing, like lavender and musk, but in a way that wasn’t overwhelming, it fit her perfectly. Everything fit her perfectly. She was perfect. There was nothing he wanted more in the world that to hold her forever. Even his guilt didn’t stop his heart from pounding, the gentle thrum of her own pulse beating against his temple. He wasn’t alone. He was with her. Neither of them would ever be alone if he had a say in it.

He pulled back a bit, his face hovering next to hers as time slowed. She could feel his hot breath, the goosebumps that formed on her skin as he turned his head, nose nudging against her cheek. Unmei pulled back to look at him, her eyes scanning his face as he leaned in closer, their lips almost touching. It felt like the world stopped, all of their grief and anguish melted away as a fire burned brightly between them, tension rising. “Not alone anymore…because I’m here with you…all I’ve ever wanted…” He whispered, moving his hand from the back of her head to her jaw, cupping it gently and brushing his thumb over her cheek. Her entire being melted, unable to help the whimper that escaped as she looked into his half lidded eyes. “Shu…I…you…” She whispered. Her heart was racing, chest heaving and body aching, for his touch, for his warmth, for all of him. She’d never felt need like this before, never had the desire or passion. All he had to do was look at her and nothing else mattered, all she cared about was that he was finally there with her, and that’s all she needed.

Nothing was going to stop him now. He had her exactly where he wanted her, in his arms, under his finger tips, and he was never going to let go. The moment he leaned in, he felt his heart beating like a drumroll, years of waiting and craving all leading up to this moment. He’d never wanted anything in life as badly as he wanted her. Every morning he’d wake up wishing she was beside him, every minute that passed of the day he wanted to be by her side. Every night he dreamt of her, holding her close, touching her all over, feeling her soft skin under his calloused hands and tasting her everywhere. She’d consumed his mind without even knowing it, the thought of her being with anyone besides him eating away at him day in and day out. From day one she belonged to him, he knew it in his heart and in his soul. Unmei was his, and now the time had finally come where he would give his all to her, and take everything she had in return.

The moment their lips touched, Unmei felt the years of loneliness and suffering wash away like a waterfall pouring over her. Everything that Shuji was flowed through her as he moved his lips, Unmei becoming worried. She put a hand on his chest, pushing him back gently as he begrudgingly let their lips part. “What’s the matter, baby? Going too fast for ya?” He asked, a little out of breath. “No, no it’s good. I just…I don’t really know how to kiss. Only kissed one person before, and that was years ago. Scared I’m not gonna be good enough.” Her voice was small as she confessed, her head turning away and eyes fixed on her bed. Fuck, how did she not know what he was doing to him? Just the thought of her kissing someone else sent him over the edge, his body moving before she could react. He picked her up with ease, sitting on her bed with his back to the wall and his hand on her hips as he pushed her down onto his lap again, grip firm as she squealed. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of everything. Just do whatever feels right for you and I promise you’ll feel good. Alright?” His lips curled into a smile, her toes curling while his hand trailed up underneath her hoodie, rough fingers trailing over her back and tracing up her spine. She let out a soft sigh, her head rolling back and showing off her neck to him, Shuji just picturing how pretty it’ll look once he’s covered her perfect skin in his marks. Unmei nodded, looking back at him and cupping his cheeks while giving him a sweet smile. “If it’s you, I’ll do anything. Just wanna be with you, Shuji.” She whispered to him, her radiance blinding him.

With that, she leaned in again, initiating the kiss this time but letting him take over instantly, Hanma guiding her and easing her into it. A million thoughts ran through his head, all the ways he could take her, claim her, make sure she never thought of anyone else besides him. Maybe he was being selfish, but he honestly didn’t think he was. It’d been a long time coming, and he knew he loved her from the very start. He'd been so good the whole time, keeping his distance, making sure he didn’t make her uncomfortable, respecting boundaries. Okay, well, the last part was a lie. The boarder line stalking could be a boundary cross, but she didn’t know about it, so was it really that bad? He was only protecting her, he was doing a good thing, right? Whatever, it didn’t matter, because she was in his arms now, kissing him with so much passion and need, he could barely tell she was a beginner. She followed his lead easily, catching on quick and moving against his lips gently. His hands roamed her body, fingertips grazing all over her back and sides as she trembled, letting out a shaky breath while her hips bucked against him subconsciously.

Hanma was aching, dying to feel her more each time she grinded over the tent in his pants. She might not have even known what she was doing to him, the effect she had. The roll of her hips stuttered as she moaned softly, her toes curling and head falling back. Shuji thought the was a perfect opportunity, needing to hear more of the pretty sounds. Every night he’d dreamt of what she might sound like when he’s making her feel good, if she was a moaner or a curser or a whiner, maybe all three. The soft gasps now were good, but not good enough. The desire to hear more tipped him over the edge as he moved her to straddle his leg, pushing her down onto his thigh and rocking her against it as he licked a long stripe up her neck.

“Ny-ah! Fuck!” Unmei squeaked, gripping his shoulders as she shook on top of him. It made his brain and heart melt to hear her like this, the sound so cute to him. He tugged on her hips, pressing his thigh up into her as he moved her while licking, kissing and sucking all over her neck. It was driving her wild. Unmei didn’t know how much she’d like neck kisses, but they might become her favorite thing. Especially when the tip of his tongue flicked over a particular spot just under her jaw like a snake, her hand moving to the back of his head. “There. Right there feels real good.” She moaned, Shuji wiggling his eyebrows as he nipped and sucked at the spot. Her hips bucked sharply, his thigh pressing up into her again as pleasure surged through her Unmei moaned loudly, losing herself while grinding on him. His leg was on the skinnier side, but it was firm under her, and even through their pants it was more friction than she’d ever felt before. It made her head spin, face turning pink as she leaned back to look at him with a sultry face that was almost porn worthy.

Shuji smiled, his thumbs tracing the bottom of her bra. “Feeling good, pretty girl?” He asked, watching her hips roll. The nickname made her heart flutter, an adorable smirk forming on her pretty lips as she nodded. “Really good. Don’t wanna stop.” She admitted breathlessly. “Good. Don’t stop. Feel good, baby. Lemme see how pretty you look when you lose your fucking mind.” He encouraged, slipping her hoodie up over her head and making quick work of her bra, staring shamelessly at her chest. “Fuuuuck…god you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. Better than I dreamed of.” He whispered, almost to himself. But, Unmei stopped for a moment, staring at him with her lips parted. “Dreamed of? You dreamed of me?” She asked softly, Shuji looking up at her as he groped her breasts. “Every night, doll. Always been my dream girl. Drove me fucking crazy, would probably get embarrassed from all the things I dreamt of doing to you.” He chuckled.

Something inside of her snapped, a cord splitting apart as she whimpered, remembering all thee things she wanted him to do to her. All the nights wanting his hands on her, the fantasies of him being buried inside of her instead of the toy she had. Wondering if he was bigger, if he’d be better, if he’d be able to make her feel better than she did. Her hands moved without much thought, stripping him out of his jacket before lifting his shirt up, tossing it wherever hers ended up and running her hands over his bare chest. It was so warm, so firm under her dainty fingers, she couldn’t help but whimper as she imagined how much stronger he was, how he could probably manhandle her. Their size difference was definitely one of her favorite things about him, her mind wandering to how easily he could pick her up, pin her down, it made her hips move again just thinking about it. “Would it be bad if I said I thought stuff about you too?” She asked softly, doe eyes looking at him with such innocence he thought he’d lose his mind. “Yeah?” He hummed, putting a large hand on the small of her back to help her with her movements. “Like what?” Hanma asked, desperate to know. Unmei smiled and giggled, her hand moving to the back of his neck and twirling his hair around her finger. “Whatever you want.” She told him teasingly, watching his eyes darken as his smile faded.

Within seconds Unmei was on her back, Hanma nestled between her legs and pressing her hard into the mattress. His breathing got heavier, Unmei squirming and staring up at him with her chest heaving. “Do you want that, sweetheart? Want me to have my way with you? Gotta warn you, I’ll go easy, but it won’t be gentle. You sure you wanna try and take me on?” He asked, his tone dropping as his fingers traced up her arms, hands moving to lace with hers and pressing them into the bed. She looked so pretty under him, all of his fantasies in the palm of his hands, so close he could almost taste it. But, he wouldn’t do it unless he knew she wanted him just as bad, as long as he knew she knew she belonged to him and only him. When she nodded how knees almost gave out, the little smile making his chest tight. “Want you, Shuji. Always wanted you. Just make me yours already, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, hurry. Aching for you, almost hurts.” Her voice cracked as her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him down to grind against her. Hanma groaned loudly, eyes screwing shut as he pressed hard into her, letting her feel all of him and dying to feel her wrapped around him. A dark smile spread across his lips, making her heart skip as he looked down at her. “Don’t worry, Unmei. I’ll give you everything you need. Gonna make you mine.” He grumbled, giving her goosebumps as his lips hovered over hers.

He kissed her again, grabbing her by the jaw and prying her mouth open to slip his tongue inside, swallowing her moan and using his other hand hiked her leg up, fingers digging into her thigh as he rocked his hips. His head was already dizzy, her soft and tiny body under him giving him such a wild sense of strength and power. He got the go ahead, he could do what he wanted, and what he really wanted right now was to see how she looked when she came, even if it was just from a little dry humping. She was almost too innocent, moaning and whimpering like crazy from the steady, firm movements. It made him wonder how loud she’d be when he filled her up, how tight she’d be when he finally slipped inside. Could she handle his rough thrusts? Would she scream his name? How many times would she have to cum before he broke her mind? He’d find out soon enough, apparently.

Unmei was already feeling the warmth bubbling in her tummy, nails scraping at his biceps as their tongues swirled together. Just the feeling of the bulge rubbing against her had her seeing stars, vivid colors splashing over the back of her eyelids as she drowned in him. She wanted to lose her mind, to only think of him, be his completely. Nothing else mattered to her. Years of loneliness, longing and worrying for him, it all washed away, only the tidal wave of pleasure consuming her as he moved faster. He bit her bottom lip as her old bed began to creak, her whole body moving from the sheer force of his grinds. “Mmnah, Mnu…ni…mnood, mm fuh…” She babbled between the heated kisses, her hips bucking up against him as her chest heaved. He could feel her shaking, toes curling against the back of his legs as his cock twitched in his pants.

He pulled back from her lips to get a good look at her face, her eyelids fluttering open as her eyes crossed slightly behind her glasses, lips hung open for bated breaths and soft whimpers to spill out. “So pretty, baby. Cum for me. It’s alright. C’n cum like this, then I can stretch you out real nice, get you ready to take my cock. Want that? Wanna feel these insida you?” He asked, holding his long fingers in front of her face. They were almost twice the size of hers, her heart and pussy fluttering at the thought as she nodded. His fingertips tapped at her bottom lip, her tongue sticking out to graciously accept his middle and ring finger into her mouth as her lips wrapped around them, sucking and swirling her tongue around them while she moaned. Hanma was afraid he’d cum just from the sight, burning it into his memory. Her innocence was slipping, being completely destroyed by him so quickly as she turned into a lewd mess, tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

Unmei felt the build up, the snap, her legs squeezing around him as the ecstasy flowed through her like a big wave, swallowing her and mind turning to mush as she crumbled. Her body twitched and shook as her mouth hung open, a loud moan echoing through the room while he rocked her through it, Hanma’s eyes fixed on her beautiful face. It was the best thing he’d ever seen, watching her completely lose herself almost sending him over the edge. But he couldn’t, not yet. He had to hold back, keep his own desire under control until he was inside of her, until he could fill her up so full he’d never doubt his ownership over her. Slowly he eased up, only stopping when her breaths slowed and her body relaxed, kissing her over her neck and collar bone as she came down. Unmei let out a breathy laugh, a big smile on her face as she takes her fingers through her hair. Shuji sucked at her neck, feeling her press her body against his before he pulled off with a pop. “Ready for more, baby?” He asked, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Unmei giggled and nodded, pushing his long hair behind his ear as she admired his features. He’d definitely changed since she last saw him, his baby face changing and becoming manlier, cheeks hallowed a bit more and jawline sharper. She was in love, she could already feel it. There was nothing she wanted more than all of him. “��m ready. Want more, Shu.” She agreed, making him smile.

He kissed down her body, licking and sucking and leaving marks in his wake as he grabbed the waistband of her leggings, slowly dragging them down the length of her legs. Her legs closed from embarrassment as her cheeks reddened, gulping hard as she suddenly became nervous. Sure, she wanted him, wanted to be his, but she was still self conscious. No one had ever seen this much of her before, so of course it’d make her anxious. Hanma rubbed her calf as he sat back, looking her up and down and feeling a deep, feral urge to ruin her bubbling inside of her. Like a little bunny at the mercy of a ravenous wolf, he was salivating as his hunger for her became insatiable. He chuckled darkly, moving his hands up and down her legs. “Don’t get shy now, baby girl. Want me to give you everything, lemme see all of you.” He cooed, tilting his head curiously as she turned hers to the side. Unmei took a deep breath, hiding behind her arms as she let her legs spread, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

Lucky for her, Shuji wasn’t looking at her face. When she opened up for him his eyes were fixed on her glistening core, tongue poking out to lick his lips as he let out a shaky breath. He dropped onto the bed, face hovering over her as he put her legs over his broad shoulders, Unmei gasping when she felt his hot breath on her skin. She sat up, seeing the hungry look in his eyes and gripping the sheets. “W-What are you doing? Why are you so close? It’s embarrassing.” She whined. She earned a sharp, warning look from him, making her squirm. “Embarrassing? Baby, you’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Don’t be embarrassed. Can’t wait to be all the way inside of…here.” He hummed, slipping his middle finger knuckle deep into her, watching her head fall back as she moaned. It was a new and strange feeling, Hanma not waiting to begin pumping it in and out. She’d tried to finger herself, but her fingers were so small it never felt good enough. The depth he reached, the way he curled it, she was losing herself already.

Hanma stared at her hole swallowing his digit, feeling her tight walls pulse with her heartbeat as he felt all around. It was hypnotizing, addicting, his mouth salivating at her essence soaking his skin. She was a mess just from the little friction, drenched and inner thighs glistening as she clenched and twitched around him. He was so hard it hurt, so he was going to have to make quick work of this so he could finally get some release. He slipped another finger inside, curling against the perfect spot that had her back arching and thighs trembling around him. “Fuck! There, feels so good there. Fuck, don’t stop, Shuji.” She moaned so pretty, egging him on as he dipped down and flattened her tongue over her clit.

The feeling was indescribable. Every nerve in her body tingled as he swirled his tongue around her sensitive bud, her hands instantly flying to his head as her legs curled up. If she cared enough, she would be worried the neighbors could hear how loud she moaned. But, at this point, nothing else mattered except the pleasure she felt coarsing through her body. “Ah! Oh my go-ahd! Fucking shit!” Unmei squealed, pushing his head down and keeping him in place as her hips bucked. That’s exactly what he wanted, for her to give into her desires and feel good. He lapped and sucked at her clit, slipping a third finger in and stretching her out, the sloppy, messy sounds filling the room almost as much as her moans. Her body ached, chest tightening and she felt that build up again, coming faster than she expected as she felt herself teetering on the edge. He was moving fast, too quick for her to even grasp what was happening as he pulled his fingers out and wrapped his arms around her legs, holding her tight against his mouth.

She tasted better than any sweet he’d ever had, he couldn’t help but lose his composure as he ate her like a mad man, slurping up every drop she gave him and tongue fucking her fast, loving the way her legs squeezed around him and her fingers tugged at his hair. Unmei looked down to see his tatted hands wrapped around her thighs, his head shaking side to side as he looked up at her for a moment, catching her gaze and winking up at her. She whined, her heart melting as pleasure and love swept over her too fast for her, her body coming undone a second time as she shook violently. It was more intense than before as his wet muscle continued to squirm around, drawing circles into the pulsating nub. Of course, he had to spell his name on her clit as she came. Would she really be his if he didn’t? Even if she was gasping for air, even with her toes curling against his back and her voice cracking while she tried to push his head away, he took his time and traced out every letter from the H to the I. Only then was he satisfied, giving her soft kisses everywhere as he finally let her relax.

Unmei was relieved once he stopped, her hips still circling as he gently licked her clean and kissed all over her inner thighs while rubbing her legs and hips soothingly. Hanma gradually kissed his way up her body until he was hovering over her again, his lips and chin glistening with her essence. “Fuck, you taste so good, angel. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried in your legs.” He chuckled breathlessly. Unmei whimpered and rolled her body again, desperate for more while Hanma dipped down, brushing his nose against hers. “Want something else buried in ya now though, don’t ya baby? How bad do you want this?” He asked, grinding against her sensitive cunt. His jeans were rough, making her cry out from the friction as sweat began forming on her hairline. She only nodded, trying to tug him closer and nails scraping at his back as she panted. Hanma laughed tauntingly, grabbing her by the jaw and keeping her head still as her lust-blown pupils stared up at him pathetically “Don’t tell me you lost your words already, little one.” Shuji teased, pinching her cheeks together and watching the light in her eyes shift. Her body trembled as the nickname did something to her deep inside, setting a blaze in her as she completely melted under him. He saw it, he knew it, and he was going to toy with it.

“Oh? What’s that look for? Don’t tell me you like that. Got a size kink or something?” He hummed deeply, letting go of her face and dragging his large hand down her torso. Unmei bit her lips shut, turning her head to the side out of embarrassment, unable to find the words. She didn’t have to admit it, it was obvious he was right. “You do, don’t you? Dirty little girl. My teeny, tiny baby.” He whispered, leaning back down and smiling as his lips hovered above hers. He felt her shaky breaths on his skin, running his hands up and down her body as he completely engulfed her, mind wandering to how they must look from above. In his head, all he could see was him and her legs helplessly wrapped around him, the thought alone sending him into overdrive. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I like it too. So tiny, could just pick ya up and fuck you on my cock with no effort. Honestly might not even be able to fit inside, little pussy probably can’t even handle me.” His hips grinded again, Unmei feeling the outline of him and thinking he might be right. But, she was more than willing to try. “No, wanna try. Please, Shu. Need you. Please.” She begged breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair as her bare chest pressed against his. The need in her voice told him it was time, neither of them could wait any longer. “Alright, alright. Gonna go slow, though. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Hanma sat back to unzip his pants, grabbing hold of his length and groaning loudly. After all this time enjoying her, he was aching, leaking and twitching from his own touch as he throbbed. Unmei watched with her lips parted, tingles spreading through her body as she wondered how she’d ever be able to take that. He was huge, of course, long and thick, the angry red tip intimidating her. He was going to break her in half, but the thought kind of excited her. Precum coated the palm of his hand as he stroked himself, looking down at her with hungry, hooded eyes. “You ready for all of this, baby?” He smirked, Unmei’s heart skipping a beat, throat tightening as she swallowed hard. “W-Wait. You’re gonna use protection, right?” She finally found her voice, looking up at him nervously and closing her legs a bit. He was afraid this would be an issue. Welp, time to be a little toxic.

Shuji frowned, putting a hand by her head and giving her puppy dog eyes while leaning over her. “Unmei, I’ve been waiting for this for so long. Never been with anyone else before, only ever wanted you. Now that I finally have you, now that I can make you mine forever, I don’t want anything getting in the way of feeling all of you. Don’t you want that too? To be completely one and have nothing separating us? Don’t you want me?” He asked, sounding heartbroken with his voice slightly cracking. Unmei gasped, Shuji playing her heartstrings like a harp. “Of course I do. Want all of you, Shuji. But I just…what if something happens? I don’t think either of us are in a position to deal with the consequences if I got pregnant or something.” She pointed out, draping her arms around his broad shoulders. Hanma sighed, cupping her cheek and kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry, that won’t happen. I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, Unmei?” He begged. How could she say no to that face? Unmei pulled him down into a kiss, sighing sweetly into his mouth as he crumbled for her. “Okay. I’m okay with it. Just be careful, okay?” She smiled, Hanma overjoyed. He laughed and kissed her back excitedly before pulling back and looking at her with hearts in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Unmei. Gonna give you everything, make sure you feel amazing. Just take deep breaths and relax for me, yeah?”

He held himself in his hand again, looking down to watch her spreading her legs further for him and guiding himself to her entrance. His tip rubbed along her folds, the slickness making his breath hitch while Unmei squirmed. He’d never felt happier, the excitement and anticipation drumming through him as his heart beat faster and faster. Years of waiting, imagining, dreaming of this moment, and it was finally here. So much work he’d done to protect her, keep her safe and pure and his was finally paying off, but he had to make sure he didn’t let the joy get the best of him. Patience was key, and even though he wanted to pound into her more than anything, he had to get her used to him, let her stretch to take him and ease into it. The moment he popped his tip inside, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back. Unmei cried out, back arching off the bed as she grabbed the sheets, the stretch from that alone almost splitting her open. “Fuck! Breathe for me, baby. It’s alright.” Shuji groaned, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers as he pinned it down.

She was gasping for air, eyelids screwed shut as her head trashed side to side. “No no no no no, too big, too much, I don’t think I can do it.” She whined, tears filling her eyes from the heartbreak. After all this time, all the years of saving herself and keeping herself pure for the one she loved, it hurt to know that she wouldn’t be good enough for him, that she couldn’t even take him as he already stretched her to her limit. “Ssshhhh sh sh sh sh, relax, Unmei.” Shuji cooed, kissing her cheeks and jaw as she choked on a sob. “’m sorry, Shu. I’m so sorry. I-I don’t think I-“ “You can do it, I know you can.” He encouraged her, nudging her nose with his. “I promise, you can take it. Don’t be sorry. Just keep breathing for me. Nice and slow.” He pushed in just a little bit further, Unmei wrapping herself around him and clinging onto him for dear life while her head pushed back into the pillow. Hanma was holding back so much, he didn’t even know he was capable of being so cautious. But, in all honesty, he wouldn’t be able to push all the way in yet, even though he wanted to so bad. She was so damn tight, even though he played with her. Her walls were squeezing him like a vice grip, just barely letting him give her shallow thrusts to ease into her bit by bit.

Unmei tried to control her breathing, to slow it down and stop crying. She thought after using her toy for so long, it might’ve made it easier. But, he was way bigger than that, so her preparation had been fruitless. Nothing could’ve prepared her for this, and she was scared and excited at the same time, tears dripping down her temples. She was completely wrapped around him, legs locked on his waist and arms around his shoulders. Shuji’s face was buried in her neck as he groaned and gripped the sheets, steadily pushing in just a bit further. “Doing so good for me, gorgeous. Half way there. Takin’ it like a champ. ‘m so proud of you.” He praised, lips pressed to her skin. Unmei choked on a sob as the pain and pleasure bubbled together. It hurt, but it was such an amazing feeling as well. The heat radiating off of him, every ridge and vein on his cock rubbing through her walls with every shallow thrust, she couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his attention. Hanma’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled back, a confused smile on his lips as he watched her little giggle fit. “What’s got you so giggly, sweetheart?” He asked stroking her cheek with his knuckles. “’m sorry. Just really really happy.” She admitted with a small, sweet voice. Shuji’s smile faded for a moment while he stared at her face, her big beautiful eyes looking right at him with all the stars in the universe, lips curled into the biggest smile and soft cheeks rosy pink. She was everything he wanted, always and forever, he wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers ever again.

Shuji laughed, peppering her entire face with kisses and making her giggle and squirm, her inner walls massaging him as he stayed still, enjoying the feeling. When he reached her lips it took her breath away, the giggles switching to soft moans. He pulled back and dragged his hands down her body, sitting up and smiling. “I’m happy too, Unmei. Never been happier. And look, you’re more than halfway there. See?” He pointed out, bringing her attention to where they were connected. The sight make her brain numb. His thick length nestled inside of her, his abs, hands on her thighs, it was the most lewd thing she’d ever seen. “Oh, fuck…” She whispered, licking her lips as her hips circled, unable to stop the heat pooling throughout her body. The pain had started melting away, and when he gave an experimental thrust, she knew what she wanted, she felt ready.

“Just do it, Shu. Go all the way, I can handle it.” Unmei whimpered, grabbing his wrist delicately. His eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “You sure? Don’t wanna hurt ya, now.” Hanma cooed, rubbing circles into her hips with his thumbs. But, she was positive, she wanted it, no matter what it felt like. She wanted all of him, as fast as possible, or she was going to lose her mind. “I’m sure. Please, Shuji. Just do it. Like ripping a bandaid off.” She nodded assuredly, making him smile. “Alright. I’ve gotcha. Just hold my hands, okay?” He agreed, locking their fingers together. Unmei took a deep breath, focusing on the stretch and the pleasure of his pulsating cock, the beat matching the pounding of her heart.

Hanma could barely contain himself, eyes locked on her core as he prepared mentally. In one fell swoop he completely shoved himself inside of her, bottom out as their cries filled the room. Shuji toppled over and pinned her hands it the pillow as Unmei screamed, body convulsing as an orgasm unexpectedly washed over her. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” Shuji spewed, trying his best not to cum yet. It was so hard, her insides practically milking him as she shuddered. It was pure bliss, feeling him so deep inside, completely filling her up. It was impressive that she managed to handle it, the pleasure beyond words, incomparable to anything she’d ever felt before. Her breathy moans slowed down as her eyes glazed over, Unmei taking off her glasses and setting them on her nightstand as he stayed still. “You alright? Feel good?” He panted. She nodded and smiled, still blissed out and relaxing back into the mattress. Unmei grabbed his hand again and brought the back of it to her lips, kissing along the dark marks. “Fucking amazing. Keep going, baby. Fuck me like you mean it.” She smirked, not knowing what her words were doing to him.

It made something click in his brain, the need and desire taking over. A wicked grin spread across his thin lips, the kind that’s scare the biggest and baddest, but only excited her more. “Like I mean it, huh? Don’t get too cocky now, little one. But alright, I’ll give you what you want. Brace yourself, baby.” He chuckled, grabbing her hips tight and lifting them up.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for what he had in store. In one quick move he pulled out all the way to his tip and slammed in again, Unmei screaming loudly as her body lurched from the force. Hanma moaned, throwing his head back as he did it again and again, his tip easily hitting the deepest spots. The way she squeezed and massaged his cock was heavenly, silky walls welcoming him into a vice grip as she arched and squirmed in his grip. “Fuck! Shu! Ah, god, fuck!” She squealed, her toes curled and fingers gripping the pillow as the bed creaked violently. She could practically feel all of the thoughts in her head melt away as nothing but pure ecstasy flowed through her like a tidal wave. Each snap of his hips had her seeing stars, the sounds filling the small space downright filthy.

Shuji moaned and groaned, grunted and growled. Watching her body move was like art. Plump pink lips parted for her sultry moans to spill out, eyelids fluttering as she stared at him, tits bouncing and tight cunt coating the length of his cock in her listening slick. Nothing in the world could compare to how breathtaking she was, and his mind just kept going back to the first time he saw her, the moment he knew he was in love with her. This was everything he’d ever wanted and more. When he felt the fire burning in the pit of his stomach, he knew he couldn’t stop. He had to distract her, had to make sure she wouldn’t notice what was about to happen. Maybe if she came again too, it’d cover up his own release. So, that’s exactly what he aimed to do.

He pounded ruthlessly, grabbing the back of her legs and folded her, Unmei’s eyes going wide. She gasped when he gripped her calves tight, forced to watch his cock sink into her sensitive hole over and over again. Her head was spinning, mouth salivating as drool seeped from the corner of her lips. It felt like the whole world was spinning, her body weak to the abundant pleasure as she laid helpless beneath him. Her moans got more high pitched, mixing with the lewd squelching of her cunt. Hanma could feel himself tipping over the edge, hips beginning to lose their rhythm. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Doing so fucking good for me, baby. Pussy feels like heaven. Wanted this for so fucking long. God, I fucking love you.” He moaned, letting one of her legs relax over his shoulder so he could grip the headboard.

Love?

Unmei stared up at him in shock, feeling the tears well in her eyes again. He loved her? He really loved her? She wanted to point it out so bad, but no words would form in her throat. The only sounds she was capable of were moans and whimpers. But, it was the thought alone that had her seeing stars. He loved her. Shuji Hanma told her that he loved her, to her face. It pained her that she couldn’t even say it back. The only thing she could think to do was show him. So, she grabbed his face in her small hands, pulling him down and crashing her lips onto his, surprising him as she licked into his mouth. It was deep and passionate, he could feel every hair on the back of his neck as a chill ran down his spine. That was the snap, his cock pulsating as he released without warning, letting the waves crash through him. At the same time, he felt her clamp around him, thankful his plan worked as she moaned into his mouth, her fingers gripping his hair tight and legs wrapping around him.

But, he couldn’t stop. Even if he was sensitive, even if he knew it might be too much for her, his body wouldn’t let him stop. He only pulled out long enough to flip her over onto her stomach, Unmei’s face buried in her pillow as she put her ass up in the air, having enough brain power to know what she needed to do and what was coming next. She hugged her pillow tight, swaying her hips as he liked his tip up again. It was like second nature for her, all of the videos she’d watched and things she’d read, all of the wild fantasies she’d had preparing her for this. However, Hanma was frozen for a moment, seeing the ink etched into her back. Pretty wings decorated her skin, a low groan rumbling in his throat. That wasn’t there before. “Oh fuck me…” He whispered to himself. It was too much for him to handle, and he pushed inside of her once more, pounding to his base once again and letting his brain slip away. All he could think about was how good she felt, how he was going to feel this every day for the rest of his life, and how he never wanted to stop. It was like he was 16 again, humping his pillow thinking about her, picturing this exact thing in his head, but a million times better. “Fuck, Unmei, so fucking sexy! Love watching you, so tiny and pretty and perfect. Feelin’ good, baby? Tell me you’re feeling good, fuck! Please say it, angel.” He choked, doubling over and slipping a hand underneath her, hand splayed across her chest and lifting her up a bit.

Her eyes were crossed, jaw slack as she gasped and moaned. She’d never felt anything from behind, always very basic and flat ok her back while using her toy. It was driving her wild, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please tell me, baby. Wanna hear your voice. Need ta hear ya.” He begged, voice cracking as his strong and cool demeanor slipped. He needed to know he was doing a good job, that she was feeling as good as him, that she felt the same way. If not, everything he’d worked so hard for, waited for, would be for nothing. Eventually, Unmei started babbling, realizing she could probably spit something out. “Good! Fuck! Shu! Don’t stop! Down!” She cried out, Hanma gasping and dropping her back down onto the mattress. When she was bent over again he hit the best spot, her hips bucking up to help him hit it again. “There! Ri-ah-there!” She screamed, hugging the pillow again as she rocked back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

Shuji grabbed her hips tight again, watching, mesmerized by her fucking herself back on his cock, the bend of her spine, the intricate tattoo, the jiggle of her ass cheeks. Unmei’s brain was turning to mush, chasing the high as it bubbled up in her again. Her clit was aching, so she reached down to rub it in fast, tight circles, desperate for the little extra push. It made him smile when he felt her spasming around him, her legs shaking and moans getting louder. He picked up the pace a little more, pushing down on her back to arch it even more. “Fuck! Shuji! G’na cum! Harder!” Unmei squealed. He could do that. The snap of his hips grew harsher, going deeper as he slammed into her. His grip kept her still as he abused her cunt, sending her over the edge again. It hit her so hard her legs gave out, knees slipping out from under her as she collapsed, a convulsing and spasming mess. Hanma lowered himself on top of her, and kissed her shoulders and neck, his cock rubbing against her ass cheeks so he wouldn’t lose the pleasure built up. Her pants and moans slowed, Unmei turning around under him to smile up at him. “You good? Not too tired yet, right?” He chuckled, kissing her forehead. She shook her head, licking her lips as her chest still heaved. “One more. Please, just one more. Like this again.” She whispered, wrapping her arms and legs around him again, letting him completely mesh against her. “So I can tell you I love you to your face while you do it.”

Shock froze him, his body as still as a statue as he stared down at her. “You…you what?” He croaked, thinking he heard wrong. Unmei threw her head back as she laughed, fingers gently trailing up and down his biceps. “So you can say it to me but get surprised when I say it back? I said I love you, asshole. Do you need to clean your ears?” She teased, poking his temple.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. It kept playing on repeat in his head, over and over again. She said it. It was real. He wasn’t imagining it. “Say it again.” His tone dropped, Unmei getting butterflies as his stare intensified. “I love you, Shuji.” She repeated, giving him a soft smile. “Again.” The command made her quiver, spine tingling. “I lo-ah!” before she could even get the words out he pounded into her harder than ever, the movement firm and possessive as his eyes stayed fixed to her blissed out face. “Don’t stop, Unmei. Keep saying it. Wanna hear you say it.” Shuji breathed out, muscles tight as he started a heavy, deep pace.

Of course, she did as she was told, repeating the phrase as much as she could while he took her completely. Body, mind, soul, heart, it was all his, completely and utterly. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Keep it going. Love hearing you say it.” He cooed, feeling her tighten at the praise. If she kept doing that, he knew he’d cum again, needing to feel that sweet release. “My good girl. My pretty girl. My little baby.” He moaned over her chants, hearing her squeak and gasp. “Like that, dontcha? Feel you clamping around me, my pretty little girl likes praise, hm?” A smile spread on his lips when she nodded, watching her lips form into a focus pout as she closed her eyes, letting the feelings he was giving her take over. “So fuckin’ cute, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll keep tellin’ ya all the sweet things, as long as you keep taking my cock and tellin’ me ya love me. I’ll do anything for ya. You’re mine now, always gonna be mine, forever.” It was a promise he intended to keep. Now that he had her, nothing was going to tear them apart. He'd die before he sees her walk out of his life again.

Unmei started tearing up again as she crumbled around him, knowing she couldn’t take much more. Her body was weak and aching, her heart was racing, and her words were coming out slurred and jumble as her mind slipped away from her. The only thing she could think about was how much she loved him and how good it felt to have him on top of her, inside of her, claiming each and every inch of her for his. His voice, his touch, his kiss, it broke her, but she was beyond thrilled. Whatever he wanted was his, she didn’t care about anything but him. She’d never have to be lonely again, would never have to try and fail to find love, because she found it, in the man she always knew would be her one and only. The broken pieces of her life and heart were finally coming together in the best possible way, at the most unexpected time.

He felt her body behind to tremble and shake, her nails raking against his bare skin as her head thrashed from side to side. Luckily, Shuji was getting close too, wanting to fall over that edge together. “Look at me, sweetheart. Want you to look me in the eyes when you cum around me. Show me how pretty you look.” He grunted, going faster and harder. He wrapped one arm under her to hug her tight against him while the other cupped the back of her head gently. Her eyelids fluttered open as her moan softened, staring into his eyes through hooded lids as she panted. The end was approaching fast, too fast for her. A whimper erupted in her throat and a tear rolled down her temple as she clamped her legs around him, never wanting him to pull away. “Shu..I…lah…ahve…you…oh!” The words panted out before he completely let go, Unmei choking on a sob. Wave after wave coarser through her veins as she released, feeling something leaking from her hole and down onto the sheets. It wasn’t as violent as the other ones, not fireworks or explosion, but a very soft and sweet release of pleasure, drowning her as she sank into the feeling of ecstasy.

The sloppy sounds got even louder and messier as her little hole squelched around him, sucking him in and opening up further all at once, making it easier for him to pound into her until he fell into oblivion. His hips stopped as he still inside of her, head falling into the crook of her neck with a low growl. Unmei panted under him and traced small patterns into his hot skin, letting him relax and too blissed out to even realize he never pulled out once. Shuji pressed kisses to her neck and shoulder, slowly making his way up to her lips. It was slow and deep, full of passion and love, better than she’d ever thought. It was torture when he pulled away, Hanma chuckling when she whined. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this.” He muttered, pushing her hair back and tucking the strands behind her ear. Unmei giggled and did the same for him, the long black and blond locks surprisingly soft. “Probably longer than I have, but I know what you mean. So glad you’re here with me now.” She whispered.

He pulled out and they moved around to lay together, Unmei cuddled onto his side while Shuji kicked his pants off and pulled the blankets over them. Her hand rested over his heart, desperate to feel the best of his heart and the subtle rise and fall of his chest. “So, is your friend still waiting on you? Are you gonna have to leave?” The heartbreak in her voice was evident, the reality of it all crashing over her. He did say he was staying with a friend, would he have to leave her? What was next? What was this going to lead to? They loved each other, but he was still on the run, hiding from the law. How would this work? He felt her shaky breath fan over his chest, her body trembling in his hold. “Hey hey hey, don’t do that.” He cooed, cupping her cheek and lifting her head so she could look up at him, seeing her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m not going anywhere. Fuck him. Got my baby now, not gonna leave when you’re right here.” He assured her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her on top of him. Unmei sniffled and laughed, leaning down to kiss him over and over again. “Good. Don’t want you going anywhere. Can even stay here, if you want. I know its not much, but if you want to…” She trailed of, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she looked to the side. Hanma smiled, playing with her hair as she looked back at him. “Only if you don’t mind. Its not easy harboring a fugitive. Hope you know what you’re getting into.” He teased. “Baby, if you keep dicking me down like that, I’ll hide you from the cops forever. I’ll be your ride or die, just keeping lovin’ me and I’ll do anything for you.” She replied.

Of course he was going to keep doing that. He’d do anything for her, and if that’s all she asked of him, he’d go above and beyond. There wouldn’t be a day in her life she wouldn’t cum on his cock and fall asleep in his arms ever again. This was a promise he made to himself and her. No more beating people into giving her things, no more keeping guys away from her, she belonged to him, now and forever, and he’d be damned if he ever let her forget it for a second. “You got it, angel. ‘m yours forever.” He cooed, letting her fall into his side again and relaxing into her embrace.

[misc-obeyme]

Solomon Alone

Okay I am having some health issues, but I've been feeling pretty good today. And since I have some energy, I'm also kind of on a roll with writing tonight. I don't think I've ever posted two things in one day, but hey I'm just gonna go with it.

It's another Solomon story because I'm obsessed with him. This is a pretty short one about how he might be feeling after Lesson 12. This is assuming he doesn't have ulterior motives or anything.

It's a bit different from my usual fluff... I would say this one is all angst, but listen I don't question my muse when that slacker finally shows up.

Solomon x GN!MC

Warnings: Hurt/angst and SPOILERS for Lesson 12 of Nightbringer

Solomon watched as you lost consciousness. He heard himself asking Thirteen what to do, heard her say she couldn't help. He heard the brothers crying out your name, hoping you would somehow wake up. He saw the look of anguish on Lucifer's face, even as he held the grimoire that you had handed over to him.

Through a fog, Solomon helped the demons bring you out of the reaper's cave. When they were prepared to bring you back to Cocytus Hall, he told them to take you to the House of Lamentation instead. He convinced them that you would be most comfortable in the spare room there.

And Solomon went back to Cocytus Hall alone. He walked through it in a daze, not at all registering the environment around him. His mind was fully occupied by the sight of you falling to the ground, struck by the magic of the fountain.

When Satan came to talk to him about researching curses, Solomon listened. He agreed to help Satan look through all of the books they could find on the subject. It was a welcome distraction. It slowly pulled him out of the fog that had clouded his mind. He spent hours and hours reading through those books. All day and all night, he tried to find the answer to what had happened to you.

Because now that he was thinking a little more clearly… wasn't all of this his fault?

Solomon was the one who brought you to Thirteen's cave, to the Fountain of Knowledge. If he hadn't done that, if you hadn't been there when you made that promise, then you would still be awake right now.

That guilt was something he couldn't afford to think about too much. He threw himself into the research to prevent it from crushing him entirely. Not now, not while you still needed him.

He could face the shame of what he had done when you were awake again. He knew he would have to. He wouldn't be able to look into your eyes or see your brilliant smile without also feeling the heaviness of knowing he had caused your suffering.

It was easier with you resting at the House of Lamentation. He must have known that subconsciously when he convinced the brothers to take you there. He knew each of them would be spending time by your side, taking care of you. It allowed him to stay away so he could focus on fixing the mess he'd made.

It was only one of the many reasons he had sent you with them, though. The fact was, there were seven of them and only one of him. He couldn't take care of you the way they could. He could try to give you everything he had, give you all of his love, all of his knowledge, every part of him. And still they would always be able to give you more.

Solomon was sure you'd have an opinion on his thoughts if you were here to express them. Even so he felt himself reverting back to being nothing more than your teacher. You were his adorable apprentice and he would always be proud of you. He would do all he could to make sure you knew the magic you needed to survive and thrive in the Devildom and the human world.

He would teach you all he could no matter what, but he knew he couldn't hold onto you forever.

Solomon sat alone in his room at Cocytus Hall. A room you had poked your head into to ask him about this or that. A place where you sometimes looked for him to talk to him about your day or ask him questions about things that were on your mind.

It seemed like anywhere he went in the hall, there you were. The ghostly memory of you, standing in the kitchen making breakfast or sitting in an overstuffed chair in the library, reading. He saw you everywhere and the reality of your absence pulsed through his bones, settling into a dull ache. He was so good at ignoring this pain while he worked, it was days before he admitted to himself just how much he missed you.

And while working and researching was the only thing that was keeping him from falling into that pain, there was a little voice of doubt in the back of his mind. He couldn't help having the suspicion that your curse would break without him. That it didn't matter how much time he spent going through piles of books, that in the end it would be your tie to the brothers that would wake you up.

That once again, he would only be able to stand by and watch as magic beyond his control altered you and your life.

More than anything, Solomon was afraid that he couldn't save you.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

thoughts on society but not really

[Hi maggots, it's me, your kind of scarred mascot. I already made a post about the carnage that I witnessed in taking even one step into the ofmd fandom, so I won't go there.]

But at this point tumblr is where I go to for comfort and social interaction so here's me making a post before I pass out with the medications. The sore throat is killing me and honestly it's all a bit blurry right now, so things are gonna be not very clarified. Clarity. Idk.

I don't know at what point reality bleeds into fiction, and fiction bleeds into reality. I suspect not a lot of us do. More importantly, I have no idea what the consequences of that overlap are, and the whole artist from art theory. Like, if trans people get joy from the Harry Potter franchise, where JKR is a transphobic piece of shit, should they give up their joy for no fault of theirs or continue to indirectly support her? As a trans guy, I still find comfort in what the fandom created. Why is everything so messy-

Anyway fandoms, they're all so strange, aren't they? Whole communities with defined roles that also evolve and overlap, fade out and emerge. But physically they don't exist. Or do they? Are fandoms the people/the fans, or the source material, or the fanon material, or the canon creators, or the canon cast/crew/publishers? Which fans are representative and which aren't of the fandom as a whole? Is it about numbers or is it weighed against the intended message of the show and its impact and other factors?

Jesus christ my hands hurt I'm so close to passing out hnngh painkillers are wild.

hello maggots if anyone sees this i'd like a hug and some love, please? *holds out arms*

sending you all love. and comfort. it's a fucked up world. i hope i bring you some joy in it. i know for sure that you all do.

i'll hopefully function a bit more if the illness doesnt get worse, so I'll continue with GO/DW then. Maybe OFMD, though I'll have to see how without damaging my mental health severely. i think i used tumblr too much today i made a fake show and an ad for GO and honestly i do not remember what i did. night night.

[wannaeatramyeon]

taehoon first kiss hc pls

Oh you thought you were gonna get something fun huh? Something a bit lighthearted and fluffy? Surprise! Take some comfort with a little bit of hurt.

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Hospital Kisses

Accompanying ch103 - post Baek Seongjun fight. You visit Taehoon in the hospital

Taehoon isn't sure he could bear the look on your face.

"I'm ok. I'll be discharged soon."

He really was not ok. Seongjun had done a number.

But even in his current state, Taehoon couldn't miss the way your lip trembled when you walked in, the way your eyes turned misty as you looked over him and saw the bruises and the injuries.

You flicker a watery smile his way, trying your hardest to look unconcerned at the fact your boyfriend is sitting in a hospital bed. Like this is an everyday occurence. It's normal, it's fine.

Occupying the seat next to the bed, you avoid Taehoon's eyes. If you looked at him any longer, you were sure the tears would come thick and fast, with no end in sight.

Instead your eyes rove all over the bed. Taking in the well-worn hospital blanket, the fraying threads, Taehoon's thin hospital clothes poking out between the sheets - leading to bandages, leading to a drip, leading to his bloodied and swollen fists-

You avert your eyes and stare at the ground instead.

"Cmon, you're ruining our first date," Taehoon's voice snaps you out of your unpleasant reverie. You somehow muster up a wry smile.

"I think this is the worst first date ever."

Even now, he manages to sound cocky, "How is it bad when you're with Seong Taehoon?"

"You're such an idiot."

"Don't think I can't hit you in my condition," he threatens without malice. Ah, maybe this isn't the right time, he thinks as any hint of cheer disappears from your eyes.

Taehoon changes tactics.

"Just... come here," Taehoon has never been one to comfort anyone. He prefers tough love, if not just the violent and physical kind where he kicks the shit out of someone. But, he supposes, for you he can try.

He hides any discomfort as he shuffles over, leaving enough room in the bed for you.

"Are you sure?" You hesitate, not wanting to potentially aggravate any injuries.

"Are you being difficult?"

Carefully, you slide yourself in next to him, trying not to disturb anything. You find yourself pressed shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip; the heat of his thigh warming yours.

The results from the fight is much more apparent at this angle. You can see the discolouration and the cuts, the way Taehoon holds himself more delicately.

"Hey, can you stop scanning me. I said I'm fine." Taehoon's frustration creep into his voice. His personality never drifts too far from its prickly and fiery baseline.

"S-sorry..."

Despite his tone, Taehoon isn't annoyed. Not really. He's not sure he could ever truly be annoyed with you.

"Hey," Taehoon says again, much softer. He cups your chin and turns your face towards him. He takes in your wet lashes and the slight quiver to your lips.

"Y/N..." he's always liked the way your name felt on his lips. These days he wonders about the touch of yours on his too.

Taehoon closes the distance and silences your fears with a kiss.

[kiashie]

Clive/Gav headcanons/rambles/???

remembering i can post whatever i want once again so i'm posting some clive/gav headcanons since i was talking to a friend about our desires for character study slowburn but also our lamentations that we are not fic writers. and how barely anybody else is talking about this ship. so here's the compiled thoughts i've had. (there's more of them than i thought)

(gripping you) think about it with me :) (writers feel free to steal these thoughts as ammunition)

______________________________________________________________

It's very 'Gav falls first, Clive falls harder'. Gav's got eyes, he see's what we all see and as he sees the kind of man Clive is and he's gonna fall deeper. and he also may think he's out of Clive's league. - Clive's got enough self resentment that he isn't even sure he's allowed to love again. the subject of 'loving somebody' is likely barely on the table in his mind yet after 13 years of spite and revenge, he still needs to catch up. Jill may put it on the table as it was maybe something they once felt, or something they were once expected to have; but they're different people now, trying to find themselves in their new space to do so. And during that time Gav is waiting for that 'will they wont they' to unfold.

Clive has spent a lot of time having to be physically violent against his will, so i think he enjoys getting to actually touch people affectionately for once - which we see for ourselves flusters Gav. as Gav grows accustomed to and even reciprocating of it (Gav having his growing crush and deciding to take what he can get) Clive's very glad with how comfortable he can be around Gav without consciously thinking too hard about it. along with how much i think Clive respects and admires Gav for everything he does, he's glad to continue being physically affectionate to show his appreciation.

Clive reflects on how for 13 years he had nothing to sincerely smile for while stuck as a hateful miserable soldier, and even before then under his mother they were few and far between. and as he's finding his footing for the first time in forever this funny breath of fresh air comes along and suddenly he's smiling. often even. And he can't even remember the last time his smile felt real. The last time he laughed so hard, eventually to the point where it's hard enough to make his chest hurt. that he doesn't quite feel like he's drowning.

he tries not to think too hard when Gav gets either giddy or flustered when he's praised lest the word "cute" fill his head. How he thinks Gav deserves all those kind words every time.

He and Gav have had their quiet moments over the years of the timeskip, and maybe somewhere earlier in the timeline than what happens in the game before joshua's returned, Gav's brings up earlier; "i never got to be a big brother" - losing his family in one night - and instead him relating to Clive on the feeling of failing to protect and save a younger sibling. in that vulnerable moment maybe Gav musters up asking 'was being a big brother nice? atleast for a little while?'. and they can mourn together the lost chances, pressure, and pride.

Along the way Clive picks up that Gav's jokes are how he gets by with the darker thoughts, the self doubts, the feeling of not being enough. and he comes to appreciate the Gav that isn't just trying to make him laugh or ease up, the Gav that is also struggling, that makes reminding him he's special continue to mean more to him. when he wants to be the one that also makes Gav smile and laugh and be happy to be alive in return

Gav's a man who's never been good at fancy words, and suddenly he wants to be a poet because he needs a way to describe the feelings he has. As he lets Clive see all his doubts and flaws but never being shamed for it, continuing to be treated by Clive's kindness, he cherishes feeling legitimately seen and cared for despite his weakness. and he feels like the most honoured man alive whenever Clive confides his struggles in him more and more too

everybody has been watching these two insufferably pine, Gav being more self aware and self concious, while Clive not even figuring out his own feelings yet for so long doesn't realize that he's obvious to everyone else :)

When Clive finally puts all the points together, being struck with the realization he's in love. the subsequent question "oh fuck is that allowed", and is laying in that bed hands in his hair staring wide eyed at the ceiling utterly stricken. But Clive, always the driven man, will eventually resolve to let Gav know, because he thinks Gav deserves that much. to let him know how grateful he is to know how to love someone - him - like this.

a leader and his scout to guide eachother :)

[whatevertheweather]

an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold I've been in search of ways to procrastinate <3

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I'll go with one that isn't being posted yet: Callous.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Touch starvation + poor communication = Baz's No Good Very Bad Night

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

PTSD, disassociation, and, uh, emotional hurt/comfort?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Bold of anyone to assume I'm good enough at coming up with titles that I have multiple to choose from. Oh! But actually I do for Bait and Switch, thanks to Dre brainstorming fishing idioms with me. There were 4 alternatives, but my favorite is All is Fish, because it makes no fucking sense.

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

It had better be Musical Chairs.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

In an uncommon turn of events, I only have one (active) WIP right now that's not already named as it will be posted, and that's "yeah sure let's just write some shit that's way later and not finish the other that's fine"

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

It’s just…there’s also some deer in the headlights energy to him, which, mixed with the general aura of barely tamed violence, is throwing Shepard off. Truly, it’s been a good long while since he’s done this kind of pinballing over what he’s seeing when he looks at someone.

He does know what he’s seeing when he looks back at Simon. It’s the sort of face that has him politely averting his eyes to examine the bland thread of Simon’s shirt instead. He thinks walking in on the two of them tangled up without a stitch of clothing wouldn’t feel half as intrusive as looking at that expression did.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I had to abandon about a page of the above misnamed WIP (now to be succinctly abbreviated as YSLJWSSTWLANFTOTF) because it no longer fits the tone of the rest of the fic at all, which is sad because it made me laugh. It's too long to put here in its entirety, but here's part of one line, which shall function as the dead darling's eulogy: "I know you have a dick, Baz, I’ve fucking well been thinking about it!”

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Okay there's one I don't want to say much about because, selfishly, I want to be the one to write it, but it's related to truth spells. (Technically I've started it because there's a document with 10 scattered lines of dialogue, but I haven't started it started it.)

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

I'm trying to focus on 3, but I might have to say 4 here.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I have rewritten the same 4 pages of Musical Chairs about 5 times. It's absurd. I know what's going to happen, I have the ending written, I have almost everything that gets us there written, and yet this section is u n d o i n g me.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

I'm gonna take that as me sending kudos to all these lovely people: @cutestkilla @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @fatalfangirl @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 46 Nonsense Takes

Hello dear void. So, about that whole "I wish Hokazono-sensei would slow down just a smidge" thing... yeah. Not happening. Dude's writing like he still needs to stave off the infamous WSJ axe.

I don't know man. I have a lot of thoughts that all boil down to "I wish it had gone differently." Not because I think I could do it better myself- I can't even write fanfiction that I'm comfortable with posting anonymously. But this is the first time I've ever been disappointed because we didn't get a chapter of uninterrupted talking heads.

There was plenty of dialogue, and a lot of it was intriguing. I'm gonna go ham on it all in a bit. But the way the chapter ended kind of disappointed me. This is 100% Hestzhyen's Rubbish Opinion here, but fucking let the characters rest. I hate it when the characters jump from one crisis to another until the end of time. We've seen Chihiro running on fumes for far too long now and Hakuri's going to be even worse off. Guy can't even use the power they need him for without hurting himself so bad he passes out, but there's no time to let him recover. Gotta chase the bad guys!

It's ultimately a tone and pacing thing. Having the characters fight when they're already tired and/or meaningfully injured is a basic tool in the writer's kit for establishing tension. But we've done that for almost every major fight in Kagurabachi so far! Even against random Yakuza mooks! Chihiro's been operating at less than full capacity since the Hishaku's tree exploded the guy they tried to interrogate in chapter 2 for fuck's sake. He wasn't even fully rested going in to the Rakuzaichi- his arm was newly healed and bandaged up. The "ooh they're not at full strength, this'll be tough!" thing is getting old.

Okay me, no need to hit image cap with examples. But every major fight has involved using this tool in some way- every Char rescue and fighting Sojo, the Rakuzaichi infiltration and storehouse fight, and now we're starting an arc with it. I am adamantly against any series doing this without subverting expectations. If Chihiro isn't meaningfully punished for constantly risking himself when he's not at 100%, it's flawed writing in my opinion. (Passing out or losing a limb doesn't count when Char can reverse that.)

Enough bashing. Obviously this is early in an ongoing series and we've just started the arc. There's a ton of story left to go through so chill, me. In fact, Shiba being separated from Chihiro might be an indication that yes, finally, there are going to be lasting consequences of some kind for him.

I say this because Shiba's been the lone voice of reason when Chihiro decides it's time to go off the rails. He's ignored pretty much every time, but he's still there to manage the setup and aftermath. Chihiro won't have that safety net this time. I love Hakuri to pieces but he doesn't have the experience to do the intel groundwork, nor the ability to perfectly replace Shiba's clutch escape factor, you know? So I'll shut up and wait to see what happens for now.

Actual Analysis Section

Getting right into it, we immediately learn that Shiba's not coming along due to some bad blood between himself and some Kunishige antis in the Kamunabi leadership. (I feel you, man. The Kunishige we've seen so far was the best.) So while he could turn up, I think Shiba will be on the sidelines working on his own subplot. This is the "Kamunabi Classifieds/Secret Files" arc after all. Gonna be a lot of awful truths getting unearthed and Shiba is the best guy to give us insight.

Recall this conversation in chapter 7:

Despite having quit the Kamunabi under mutually unfriendly terms, Shiba's still got connections to them. Enough that he's still included in their plans when situations call for him. I think most readers clued in to the fact that Shiba was some kind of Special Ops guy when he worked there: he's very comfortable snooping around and doing a little "forceful interrogation" to get information. But the exact nature of his history might come to light this arc. And he'll be a very interesting viewpoint into the Kamunabi as someone who is deeply entwined with the org but is loath to cooperate with them for personal reasons. I suspect he'll have the most objective opinion out of the rest of the cast.

As for Azami, he was in a real bind this chapter- he didn't say a single word and was sweating bullets the entire time. He did move to protect Chihiro when Blond Jerkass threatened him at least. This arc is gonna be pretty painful for him I think. Bet most of the tension will come from his reasons for staying with the Kamunabi versus wanting to do right by Chihiro and Shiba.

Also, time to revoke my "guess the associations" privileges since I completely missed the mark on which Bearer is associated to which area. Kabuki monk guy ([漆羽] Uruha! A name, thank god!) is in the hotsprings. Or was, rather. Hope he wasn't wishing for some excitement in his life because he got more than he bargained for with that Hishaku suicide raid I think. Is he running towards safety with the Hishaku, Kamunabi, or freedom from both...?

Another guy with a weird name too. 漆 (uru, also read as nana in modern Japanese) is very, very old and likely derives from descriptions of the shine of wood that's been lacquered or varnished. In names it can convey strength, resilience, and uniqueness. 羽 (ha) means feather and has associations with freedom, grace, good fortune, and lots of support through life. So "gleaming feather" or "lacquered feather"? Guessing he'll be a free-spirited dude with an unusual perspective! Ooh this has got me excited.

Anyway. How about that unresolved conflict at the chapter's end? Chihiro made a decent case for himself (seriously he was so cool cutting off Blond Jerkass to remind them of he good he's accomplished), but the major sticking point of him being unwilling to completely fall under the Kamunabi's control is still there. You can bet your sweet Bippy it's going to be a major source of conflict in this arc. "An enemy of my enemy is my friend" is the best way to describe the relationship between him and the government right now, and that sentiment is not a solid foundation for a lasting partnership.

I can see the Hishaku forcing the Kamunabi's hand in trusting Chihiro and Hakuri, fighting tooth and nail but still letting them get the swords, then swooping in as the Kamunabi self-destructs over what to do with them. God I can't wait suss out what they're actually doing though. John Hishaku, you are peak entertainment.

Poor guy is always surprised when he's relevant to a conversation.

More Hakuri than expected! Yay! He also got to have some good moments with Tafuku, which is really cool! Sad that he's nerfed going in to the arc, but it makes sense. Wonder if they shared that he can use Isou too... it's not relevant to this discussion so not surprised it wasn't addressed. Guess we'll see later! Love these little mysteries that hook us between the larger plot developments. Everything is explained when it needs to be instead of awkwardly blurted out or infodumped.

Best panel in the chapter by far.

Tafuku's such a bro, man. I really hope that he and Hiyuki are assigned to keep watch over Chihiro and Hakuri as they search for Uruha.

Speaking of Hiyuki, seems like she's got a lot of pull with some members of the leadership council. I wonder if that's due to her status as the Kamunabi's strongest fighter alone or if there's a bit more going on... Hiyuki backstory when?

ALMOST got to see Azami's sorcery again (ch 46 vs. 7). What a cock tease. Seems to be some sort of condensed energy ability.

Look at Hakuri! He was gonna whisk Chihiro away into the storehouse to protect him, even though it would mean putting himself at odds with the council! He's so willing to put himself at risk for Chihiro it's scary. Couldn't register and transport that notebook without knocking himself out but he'll do whatever it takes for his samurai. Seriously! God I love him. (Is this foreshadowing? I think it's character consistency more than anything else, but we'll see...)

Slightly prefer the fan TL of the line ("Place your bets on me!")

Another favorite trope of mine. Chihiro unintentionally echoing his dad's words from 20 years ago got me good- and I'm not the only one based on some of the council's reactions. I love Kagurabachi for a lot of reasons but moments like this are definitely near the top. The theme of legacy and the past influencing the present is handled so well- always there, but never overdone. Thank you for trusting us to get the point, Hokazono-sensei.

So Kunishige was willing to help the war effort but was unproven at the time. He had to convince them to trust in him at all. Interesting, very interesting. Something compelled him to be there to make his case- looking forward to finding out what that was. DEAD DIL-

Trial, Interrupted

What did we learn?

One, the Kamunabi do blood tests. Weird but alright, guess they've got records of all their members' blood types and profiles stashed away somewhere. No wait that's fucking insane. Why do you need that genetic information? Why does it have to be blood instead of saliva? Why do you store it apparently indefinitely even after death- and how? What happened to references, finger printing, and researching public records to verify identity? (Actually, Chihiro might not have been properly registered as a citizen at birth due to his circumstances... that would be a fun wrinkle in him earning a paycheck.)

Guess: drawing Chihiro's blood is going to reveal Something. Exactly what isn't something I want to speculate too hard on, but it's gonna be relevant to this arc so I'll put a pin in it for now.

Two, the Hishaku have precisely zero chill. John has been preparing for god knows how long to attack the Bearers and now is the time to strike. So this leaves me with two questions: why is Chihiro being there with the Kamunabi perfectly fine (perhaps even necessary), and did they somehow account for Hakuri's presence in their plans?

I have a list of unanswered questions about Hakuri and the Sazanamis in a text file and this adds more. No one knew he was a Special Boy with the storehouse ability until yesterday (in-universe)... theoretically. And his abilities seem perfect for throwing a wrench in the Hishaku's machinations. So if they don't know about Hakuri, how will they adapt- and what will that mean for Team Goldfish? If they do know, then how? And why let this go forward? Wow falling for the plot hooks driving the narrative, how unique! Reagrdless of which scenario comes to be, I genuinely fear for Hakuri's safety... maybe a bit too much.

Three, Kamunabi politics aren't divided into neat factions for easy comprehension. At last we have some insights into the leaders' personalities though.

Rude mfers

These might be the guys that Shiba had a disagreement with before leaving. Blond Jerkass in particular is trying really hard to look villainous; he's clearly not a fan of Kunishige and went out of his way to get us all to hate him. I think he is too principled to work with the Hishaku, but he'll definitely be a thorn in Chihiro's side.

"Principled? This guy?!" Yeah!

He disagreed vehemently with Kunishige's decision to hide the swords instead of letting the Kamunabi keep them, and he sees that same "selfishness" in Chihiro is my read of him. He's also got no qualms about killing Chihiro to make Enten available to the Kamunabi since Chihiro's wielding it without any kind of oversight. This is our "authority of the establishment" guy for sure. He's there for the mission in his own way, and I hope we learn his motivations before he's offed or put on a shelf.

Pencil 'Stache seems like a snobbish skeptic so I kinda wanna punch him too. He has a modicum of concern for the issues at hand at least, I'll give him that. Not much else to say about him right now.

Prince Nez, Azami, Mask, and Eyepatch are strongly implied to be the ones who helped Kunishige hide, so they're likely to at least be neutral. Even if they had no great love for Kunishige himself, they could have been persuaded to help on practical grounds.

Azami might be the only one with personal reasons since he was Kunishige's friend. Very interesting that Chihiro claimed not to know him though... did Shiba know or guess his circumstances and tell Chihiro to lie? Azami was off screen after chapter 18 so there's a time gap to fill there- when we left off with him, he was under investigation for secretly harboring Chihiro. He's not a happy camper about any of this and I want to know exactly why. (Also, Chihiro backstory?! He didn't always live in the mountains with his dad, and he knows or was old enough to remember leaving his old home to live there??? LORE PLEASE.)

Prince Nez seems like a rational guy based on his segments explaining why going to war with the Sazanami would be bad in Ch. 22. He's the only one who seems concerned about getting to the heart of the matter here as well, being less concerned with Chihiro's ancestry versus the feasibility of his plan. Not to mention being the one to bring up that Magatsumi needs to be properly resealed as soon as possible. So I think he's a guy who is motivated by practical concerns above all else. Logic over passion is my read of him. He'll take the best approach based on merits more than anything else.

Mask appears fairly neutral. He's one of the two who was impressed by Hiyuki's assessment of Chihiro's character, so he could share at least a few of her ideals about justice and protecting the peace. She didn't rebuke him like the other guy so he's probably sincere (or at least not an obvious faker).

Eyepatch had just one line- he thought that Chihiro did in fact look like... someone he knew. Context would lead us to assume it's Kunishige, but after decades of being baited by Nomura as a KH fan, I know a potential red herring when I see one. I won't go full tinfoil hat theory here without more info but I will demand a treat if Eyepatch was referring to Chihiro's mom.

Hairclips has a very neutral impression right now since this is the only time she spoke. She was one of the three who originally sealed Magatsumi but everything else about her is a mystery right now. She got a big panel to herself so I expect to learn more about her later.

The "this meeting could have been an e-mail" vibes speak to my soul.

Piercing Guy seems like he's in it for himself first and foremost between this outburst and Hiyuki calling him a creep for wanting her approval. Then again, he seemed pretty open to hearing Chihiro's arguments about judging him based on his actions rather than his lineage. He's also amenable to accepting Chihiro as soon as he unknowingly echoes his father's resolve from decades prior... despite starting the chapter by saying he doesn't see the resemblance at all.

There's two ways to read this: either he's careless and selfish and going with what seems good at the time, or he's careless and forgot details about Kunishige until Chihiro's testimony brought them back. I think he's the most suspicious one so far. I've got my eye on you, Piercing Guy. Careless people are easy to manipulate and corrupt.

Beard Guy seems like the first among equals. Someone who carefully weighs the pros and cons of every course of action before committing. He played the role of practical, fair-minded judge rather well this chapter. He's also quite decisive in a crisis, but there's a lot more to unpack with him. (Is he Hiyuki's supervisor? How does he actually feel about everything?) Reserving judgement until we see more of his inner thoughts.

So yeah. Chihiro and the Kamunabi have agreed to work together for now, but they certainly aren't solid allies. And the Hishaku are going all out with their datenseki stockpile to blow everything up for some reason... So much for getting to chill but hey, at least there's no time wasted either. Until next time, kind void.

[ihni]

My 2023 in fics

Tagged by @billyharringson, thank you, this was a lot of fun!

January: Hot and Cold (or How To Serve Revenge) - a fic I wrote in January (but posted in February, schhhh). Got challenged by @callieb to write hurt/no comfort, and I have it on good authority that I succeeded ... (it has spawned no less than two fix-its and one more continuation by other people so far, which I am awfully pleased about actually)

February: Again and again and again and again, a time loop fic that I love, and would like to read like 80K about. ... yes, read. I don't have time to write more on it now. But I had so much fun writing this, and it is one of my favorite kinds of fics; a short one with potential.

March: March was busy. There was Billy's Birthday Bonanza, and also I wrote for the Billy Hargrove Bingo. I posted a lot of fics then, most of them short. So I'm gonna link two, because I can (and no one told me any rules for this tagging game); Boys, Beards and Best Friends, because it was so much fun writing Billy and Heather being BFFs and also the boys being set up, and then Over the edge, which is one of my favorites, because it was so goddamn fun to write! (Murder mystery prank going wrong, muahahaaa! Don't worry though, no one dies for real.)

April: A piece of meaning on your skin, a little fic I wrote for the Harringrove Flip Reverse It event, about the boys choosing tattoos for each other as a part of a bet. I still think it's cute.

May: I like Flo, okay, and like to incorporate her into fics. In Patience, I wrote about her first impressions of Billy, for the Billy Hargrove Bingo.

June-July: Posted in June, finished posting in July (but written on and off over the course of several years previous ...), Taking Notes is my longest fanfic yet at about 93K. And, listen, I love it. It's a body swap fic, where the boys swap bodies. And then again. And again. Etc. I am so proud of this one, actually.

August: Posted Pal, which is 17K of Billy befriending a stray demodog. I 100% believe Billy would like animals better than most humans, and this fic is basically him being a bit dumb but also a good friend to Pal, the demodog. And then them going into protective mode for each other. I am soft for this one, still.

September: I'm picking a short one that I first posted on tumblr and then onto AO3; Seagulls. It's ... well, it's sad in a way, in that it takes place when Billy's dying at the mall, but it's also comforting in a way, because he gets to leave all that bullshit behind and is greeted by his mom again.

October: Picking Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis, because Billy deserves to get to tell Karen no, and Karen deserves to be shamed for what she did (yes, in this fic she showed up). It was immensely satisfying to write.

November: I didn't get much posted in November (because NaNo), but I did get chapter 3 of Finding Billy posted (it's a finished fic now, though, don't worry). It's a whumpy fic I had to write after a couple of chats with friends, about Billy being held with the Lab people after the whole Starcourt thing, and then Steve and Max and Hop finding out and getting him out of there. Poor boy's been through a lot in this one - but things are getting better, promise!

December: Started posting Home is where the knitted mittens are, which is my latest fic. No ships, no romance. Just Billy finding out he's a werewolf and having to deal with that in Hawkins, Indiana, without much of a safety net. Listen, I'm weak for werewolf Billy, okay? And I made up some werewolf lore in this one which is a mix of all the things I like. (It was literally a reason for me to get to write something "nesting"-adjacent, without having to go into A/B/O-territory.) Definitely written mostly for myself, and I love it dearly. (Featuring werewolf!Scott Clarke too, because why not right??)

Huh, I never thought I'd had enough to fill a whole year's worth, but look at that! I'm proud of myself for this :)

Tagging @callieb (yes, individual chapters work!), @weird-an and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet if you guys wanna do it as well :) (And YOU, reading this, if you wanna do it! Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and think it looks fun - because it IS)