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#and then you’ve got their whole lore
nateezfics · 1 year
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ateez ff writers: writing ateez as mafia bosses, bikers, bad boys, powerful and fearless villains, or writing ateez doing anything remotely dangerous
ateez in real life:
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ditzybat · 2 months
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tim drake is the type of guy to drop random lore then walk away.
tim: ugh i hate baseball, it’s like, when you have to play it in order to save a whole planet once, every game after seem boring
dick: that’s not…
tim: only downside to that was how we almost totaled barts brand new spaceship
dick: what spaceship??
tim: oh, hi mom
shiva: hello timothy, how are you? still keeping up with your training i take it?
bruce: mother? she’s not your —
shiva: let’s spar then timothy, let’s leave it strictly non lasting injuries, i don’t rather feel like dying by your hand again today
tim: of course!! ^-^
bruce: again?
tim: man i forgot to take my meds again
duke: your meds for what?
tim: i have no spleen, so i have to take probiotics, it really is manageable but i dont know where those pills went
duke: i’m almost scared to ask, tim, how did you lose your spleen?
tim: weird spider dude, it was a whole thing
tim: you talk a lot of shit for someone who got replaced as heir to your immortal grandfathers empire by me
damian: you what!?
tim: i regularly beat his ass at online chess every week too, and i don’t think you’ve seen him since he stole your corpse
tim: here
jason: what’s this?
tim: a box of all the photos i took when i obsessively stalked you for your entire tenure as robin
jason: thanks?
tim: you’re welcome, bye!
jason: … creepy ass kid…
steph: so how did you to get together?
bernard: well —
tim: i saved him from a getting cut open by chaos monster cult members
bernard: yep, i was rescued from being a vessel for a greek god, and we just really clicked afterwards
steph: well, it’s better than the brick
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA
☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+
++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.
☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty
please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.
THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.
☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza
☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k
☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative
as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.
they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.
☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young
maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.
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PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..
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[ NINE]  
A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.  
The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.  
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”  
You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”  
“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”  
You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite. 
You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.  
You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.  
You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.  
 Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.  
You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.  
Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.  
“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”  
You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…” 
Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.  
“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.  
Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.  
“What’re you reading?”  
His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again. 
“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”  
“Am I in trouble?”  
He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”  
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”  
Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better. 
“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”  
When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return. 
 Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.  
Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.  
After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.  
Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal. 
“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”  
 You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.  
“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’ 
“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”  
He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.  
__  
After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.  
You find this to be very strange for several reasons.  
For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.  
So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little. 
“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.  
“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.  
“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you. 
“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”  
You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.  
“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”  
__  
[ TEN ] 
 There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka. 
Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.  
He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.  
But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.  
(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.  
It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)  
You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.  
You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.  
Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.  
Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell. 
 (Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)   
When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.  
Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.  
“Hi,” 
The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet. 
“Hi,” He says back.  
You smile.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Bachira,”  
He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.  
“How old are you?”  
“I’m ten,”  
“Really? Me too,”  
“Do you know how to play soccer?”  
You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”  
He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”  
“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”  
“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”  
You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”  
You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.  
“Oh,”  
“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”  
He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”  
You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”  
You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.  
“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”  
“Sure,” You tell him.  
As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.  
“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?” 
He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”  
Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.  
“Not really. I’m just normal.”  
He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.  
You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.  
__  
Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.  
On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.  
When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.  
It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.  
They don’t scold you again after you say it. 
__  
(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.  
Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.  
On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.  
It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. ) 
__ 
“So, you’re an omega?”  
Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.  
You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”  
He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.  
He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.  
“Does that mean you like alphas?”  
The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.  
You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.  
“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”  
“But do you?”  
You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.  
“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”  
“Then what about omegas?”  
That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”  
“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”  
A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”  
“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.  
“Yeah. Right.”  
__  
[ ELEVEN ]  
Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.  
In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.  
You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.  
You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher. 
You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.  
Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.  
 Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.  
 Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy. 
 You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?  
You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.  
You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.  
__  
[ TWELVE ]  
You return to the classroom early after health examinations.  
It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.  
You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.  
After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.  
The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.  
You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.  
You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.  
It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.  
Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.  
You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.  
Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.  
You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.  
You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.  
There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.  
Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.  
Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.  
She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.  
“Guess what!”  
“Did you find out your secondary sex?”  
She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”  
“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”  
She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?” 
You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.  
You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.  
You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.  
It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.  
__  
“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”  
You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.  
You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.  
“Does that bother you?”  
Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.  
Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”  
You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.  
You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”  
You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again. 
“Yeah. Right.”  
__  
[ THIRTEEN ]  
You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.  
 A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.  
Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.  
 It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.  
You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most. 
Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.   
You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.  
You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.  
You just need to keep it together until the train stops.  
There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.  
“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.  
You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.  
Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.  
“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.  
our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.  
“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?” 
You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.  
Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up. 
Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.  
You’ve never seen him so angry.  
You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears. 
“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”  
He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.  
“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”  
It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.  
When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.  
He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.  
“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.  
 He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.  
Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.  
“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”  
“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.  
“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.” 
*** 
__  
The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail. 
 But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.  
You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex  - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.  
The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.  
You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.  
You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.  
You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.  
But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.  
__  
[ FOURTEEN ] 
Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.  
There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.  
Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.  
You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.  
You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.  
“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”  
“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.  
You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.  
“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”  
“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.  
You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.  
“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant. 
“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”  
He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.   
“Buy something with it later.”  
He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.  
“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”  
You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.  
“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”  
“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”  
You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.  
“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”  
“New shoes, maybe.” 
You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”  
“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.  
You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.  
“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.  
He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”  
“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”  
Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”  
You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.  
“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.  
“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”  
You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she  sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.  
“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”  
You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”  
“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”  
Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”  
“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”  
“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.  
Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.  
“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”   
“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”  
Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”  
You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”  
“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically. 
“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.  
You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”  
“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,” 
You shake your head, displeased.  
Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.  
“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”  
“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.  
He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”  
You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”  
“Yes, ma’am!”  
Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.  
Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”  
She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”  
You blink.  
“Sorry?”  
“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.  
“What a good question,”  
You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”  
“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”  
“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.  
“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.  
“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”  
“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”  
You pause.  
You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.  
 You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”  
“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“  
Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.  
There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.  
 Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference. 
“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,” 
Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.  
“Didja miss me?”  
A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.  
“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.  
“Rude!”  
Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.  
__  
[ FIFTEEN ]  
“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”  
Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.  
He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.  
His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.  
But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.  
“You’re home late,”  
“I had student council,”  
He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.  
“You’re in student council? Since when?”  
You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”  
“Then are you in other clubs?”  
“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”  
He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…” 
You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”  
“You heard all of that?”  
You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”  
“It didn’t scare you?” 
“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”  
His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”  
“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”  
He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.  
He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?” 
He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?” 
“Uh-huh.”  
“Got any plans?”  
“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”  
He makes a face at you. “That brat,”  
“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”  
“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”  
“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.  
“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”  
“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”  
“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”  
__ 
“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”  
Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.  
You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.  
You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason. 
You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”  
“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”  
You shrug indifferently. 
Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.  
A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.  
Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.  
Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.  
So after summer break, the two of you started dating.  
It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.  
Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.  
It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.  
Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be. 
“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”  
“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.  
“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”  
“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”  
There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.  
Sometimes.  
You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”  
He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”  
“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”  
“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.  
“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”  
There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.  
“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”  
You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.  
“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.  
“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”  
He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.  
__  
[ SIXTEEN ] 
On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.  
You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.  
When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.  
The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.  
The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.  
He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.  
The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.  
The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.  
The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.  
He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.  
This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.  
It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.  
He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.  
You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.  
Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.  
He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.  
His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?  
You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”  
Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.  
What an incredible view.  
__  
(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.  
Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.  
A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.  
After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.  
You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.  
You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.  
“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.  
“I know you are,”  
His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”  
He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” ) 
__  
[ SEVENTEEN ] 
“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”  
You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”  
“Are you on the street in front of my house?”  
“Huh? Yeah, I am.”  
The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears. 
You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.  
“You ran here,”  
“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”  
“News? What about?”  
His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”  
__  
The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.  
You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.  
And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.  
It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.  
Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.  
It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.  
Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way. 
 Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.  
This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.  
Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.  
Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.  
But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.  
At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.  
“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”  
“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”  
You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”  
Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  
“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”  
You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”  
Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”  
You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”  
“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”  
You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”  
“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”  
You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”  
Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.  
He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.  
It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.  
“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!” 
__ 
You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.  
You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.  
You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.  
You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink. 
“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”  
You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.  
You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”  
“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”  
“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”  
You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.  
You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.  
“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.  
You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.  
Are you some sort of masochist?  
“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”  
Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.  
__ 
Hours pass.  
You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.  
You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.  
You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.  
He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.   
You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.  
“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.  
“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”  
“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”  
“Sorry.”  
He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”  
“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”  
“Really?”  
You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”  
“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”  
You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.  
“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”  
Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.  
“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”  
Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.  
Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.  
You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.  
You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.  
Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.  
You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.  
__ 
You don’t talk about it.  
When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.  
The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.  
Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.  
__  
The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.  
It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.  
You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.  
When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.  
You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.  
You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.  
In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.  
Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever. 
The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.  
The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.  
It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.  
He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.  
You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.  
He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.  
 You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.  
And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.  
So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied.  She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.  
You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.  
You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you. 
Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”  
“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”  
“Huh? Why?”  
“Because—“ 
You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.  
You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.  
Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”  
“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”  
“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.  
“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”  
“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”  
“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”  
The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”  
You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.  
“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.  
“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”  
“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it. 
“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.  
“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”  
“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”  
“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”  
You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line. 
‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.  
__  
For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.  
Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.  
Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.  
Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.  
The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.  
Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.  
You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words. 
You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation. 
“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.  
Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”  
Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”  
Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”  
You blink.  
“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?” 
Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”  
You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”  
“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”  
You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”  
Isagi smiles. “Sure.”  
You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.  
You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to  a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.  
Bachira is still Bachira. 
But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.  
What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?  
You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.  
You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?  
Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.  
It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.  
You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.  
What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you. 
Was he never going to tell you? 
Did he never trust you enough to tell you? 
That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe. 
The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?  
“Meguru,”  
You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.  
“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”  
You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”  
“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”  
“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”  
“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”  
You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.  
But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.  
You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.  
“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”  
“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.  
“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” 
Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.  
You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.  
“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?” 
Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply. 
__  
[ EIGHTEEN ] 
On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.  
Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.  
“Ah. Hello?”  
“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”  
You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”  
“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”  
“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”  
“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”  
You flush. “…I did.”  
She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”  
You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”  
“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”  
“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”  
“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”  
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shiggyscumrag · 1 month
Text
To fuck or not to fuck?
Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.
Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!
AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋
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Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.
Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.
It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?
You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.
“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.
“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.
“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.
“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”
“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.
“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.
“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.
“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.
Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.
“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.
Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.
“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.
“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.
Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.
“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.
“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.
“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.
“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.
“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.
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A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?
After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.
“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.
“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.
“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.
“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.
“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.
Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.
“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.
“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.
“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.
“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.
“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.
Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.
“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.
“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”
“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.
“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.
“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.
“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.
“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.
“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.
“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?
“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.
“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.
“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”
“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.
“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”
As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.
“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”
“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.
“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.
“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.
“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.
“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.
“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.
“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.
“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.
“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.
Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.
“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.
“What do you want baby? Use your words.”
“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.
Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.
“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”
“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.
“Fuck me.” He moans out.
“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.
“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.
“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.
“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.
“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.
“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.
“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.
“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.
“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.
“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.
He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.
“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.
“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.
“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.
“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.
“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.
“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.
“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.
Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.
Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.
“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.
“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.
“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”
Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.
“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.
“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.
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I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?
659 notes · View notes
starlit-typewriter · 5 months
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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 1
Playing around with the idea of The creator of Teyvat, not being the creator of humanity.
Masterlist | Next Part
~~~
You were never much of a gamer.
Not that you disliked games of course, but it never quite clicked with you the way it did others. You’d try a couple of games on and off, but there would always be a point where it’d become boring.
Not that there was anything bad about the games themselves, you freely complimented the design and effort it goes into making these masterful pieces of art and code.
You just, weren't a gamer.
Until Genshin Impact
You can still remember the day you heard of it.
You were chatting with friends and one of them brought up this new game they saw a promotion for that they were interested in trying.
It was this anime-esque gacha game.
They showed you a couple trailers and promotional materials, and you must admit they were quite appealing.
However you didn’t intend to try it, knowing that you’d eventually drop it and move on.
But your friend still pestered you, claiming that there’s no harm in trying and dropping another game, after all it’s free anyways, so you’re not losing out on anything monetary.
Skeptical, you joined them in trying out the game.
And
Well
Let’s just say your friend got more than a couple of “I told you so’s” that day
It was beautiful.
The art, the music, the characters.
Everything about this game just, clicked.
You understand why people got so obsessed with certain games.
Why they would be willing to pay for things such as this.
Why this is such a large industry.
It’s, well it’s fun.
It was honestly quite frightening how quickly the game pulled you in.
You never understood the term “completionist”, until it started to apply to you.
Every quest, every domain, every achievement
You did it all
Every dialogue, every story, every entry in the archive.
You read it all.
You scoured the forums for bits of lore, and shrieked with your friend every time something new was dropped.
Genshin was all consuming.
It was honestly quite concerning, if it weren’t for the fact it was time gated with its resin cap and limited content, your outside life probably would’ve suffered.
On some level you probably knew that this was not normal. Your friends who were all gamers as well were never as obsessed over a single game as you were over Genshin.
But you reassured yourself, this is the first game that made you feel this way, its natural for you to go a little overboard.
I’m sure it’ll die down as I try out other games.
But you never really did.
No other game, no matter how popular or similar or highly rated.
Other games from Hoyoverse fared slightly better in terms of attention span.
But you always went back to Genshin.
Not that it bothered you.
Genshin was enough, considering you still had real world responsibilities to balance.
And that was that.
Until, well.
Until Fontaine.
You see, you’d always enjoyed the characters of Teyvat.
But you’ve never quite simped after them the way the fanbase did.
You admired their aesthetics and enjoyed their stories. But they never quite drew you in.
Even your main, was quite honestly determined by meta and whatever character you’ve managed to get your hands on.
There was never a “waifu” or “husbando”.
It was always the world and story that drew you in rather than individual characters.
Iudex Neuvillette was an exception.
The exception
He felt right.
You immediately knew you had to pull for him.
So you did.
And playing him was amazing. He was as meta breaking as you’d hoped and, well, you just liked him.
“Your first official Husbando” your friends would tease. You understand why they would go such lengths for a specific character now.
He was special.
He was a Dragon.
He felt, right.
You quite never understood why
Not until you entered the world of Teyvat.
That story,
Well,
That begins from the other side of the screen.
~~~
“I bet we can definitely open up a whole new sector in Fontaine if all goes well don't you think?” Hu Tao chattered as she and Zhongli strolled back to Liyue Harbor.
Zhongli hummed in agreement, only half paying attention to the conversation. He could tell Hu Tao noticed, since she was keeping the topic of conversation to light topics that anyone with half a mind could parse through. Only enough relevance so that he wouldn’t get lost in thought, but not so much that he had to focus on the conversation.
She was considerate like that, he knew since she had let many of his oddities slide, especially when he was still adjusting to mortal life.
Not that he was free from old habits mind you.
Zhongli doubted he would ever truly be able to blend into a crowd of mortal without some level of adept arts concealing his presence, however he was able to blend in enough so that the average nosy person was able to wave off his eccentricities a simply a facet of his personality rather than something deeper.
He cannot forget that it was thanks to people such as Hu Tao who were willing to let him in without many questions that allowed him to get to this point. Something he will be forever grateful for.
Be that as it may, it did not change the fact that some things will forever be kept secret.
His near encounter with the Hydro dragon for one.
Even from the other side of Qiaoying village where he’d made himself scarce, he could feel the amount of blessings placed upon the man.
He truly was favored by the creator.
Not that that was any surprise.
What was surprising was his own blessing.
Though much smaller, he still treasured the gift given to him by the creator of Teyvat.
Teyvat, after all, was a world of Dragons.
It was due to the advent of The Primordial One, did they lose their authority.
Not that many people knew.
Most people didn’t
The true History and creation of Teyvat was kept tightly wrapped, even the most learned scholars of the Akademiya could only infer at what truly happened, as well as the origin of humanity.
The true name of the creator was lost to time, only their title of the creator of Teyvat remaining. The mortals who lived on Teyvat daren’t give them another for fear of evoking their wrath.
They had plenty to be wrathful about.
Zhongli would only imagine his own rage, if anything similar happened to Liyue.
Imagine putting in centuries upon centuries of work only for an outsider to come in, destroy your work and reshape it for their own people. Before proceeding to have the audacity to name him as a contributor to their success and praise alongside such an usurper.
Just imagining it makes him angry.
That is why, the creator’s title is rarely evoked.
Names have power after all.
Names of gods even more so.
To evoke their name, their title, is to ask for attention.
Attention that would be safer left elsewhere.
Not that mortals knew the true reason.
The commonly accepted reasoning was that the creator of Teyvat has long turned their gaze elsewhere, satisfied with the current ruling of Teyvat, having entrusted their powers to Celestia and the Archons.
Zhongli would feel guilt at this blatant lie and rewriting of history if he could.
But he cannot, because to feel guilt would be to regret his actions and to wish something was different.
But he knew that he, along with all of humanity, Liyue Harbor, his Adepti and friends. They would not have existed, they would not have lived, has history played out justly.
The world is not just.
The world simply is.
He feared to an extent that the Hydro dragons would try to force a more cruel version of justice upon Fontaine, condemning them all as usurpers, when they had no idea, or even power over what had happened in the past.
Thankfully it seems that Focalors’s plan to integrate him into humanity worked. Stemming any sort of “justice” he may enact on humanity for the crimes of The Primordial One. In fact, he seems to have great fondness over humanity, absolving them of their sin and saving them from the prophecy that threatened Fontaine for so many centuries.
However, he knew that he was exempt from this mercy. Zhongli knew that when the time came, the Hydro dragon, or well Iudex Neuvillette would spare no effort in holding him accountable for his actions in usurping the original order of Teyvat.
Which is exactly why he avoided the man, dragon? as he did.
“-ello, earth to Zhongli, ”
Zhongli blinked, Hu Tao’s voice dragging him back to their situation at hand.
“Ah, my apologies, I seemed to have been lost in thought”
She clicked her tongue at him, “Aiyyaa, honestly Zhongli, I wonder sometimes if your age is getting to you, I was trying to get your attention for quite a while”
“Is that so,”
Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated groan.
“I was merely thinking about some old history,” he started, preparing himself to finish the history of Qiaoying village that he was telling Hu Tao on their way over.
“Oh no, there’s no need for that,” she waved off, a slight grimace on her face.
He knew how bored she was by the story the way over, so it served as a perfect distraction on the way back to stop her from questioning any further.
“Honestly a girl can only listen so much about the different varieties of teas and their subtle notes and flavoring before she has to burst yo know,” she complained.
“Well, the history of tea has a -”
“Oh look we’re almost there!” She pointed out, most likely in a desperate bid to stop him from droning on.
He was being slightly unfair to her, he knows, but it never ceases to become unassuming when people try to fake interest in a topic, only to regret it when they realize just how much there is to know about it.
Of course it can never compare to when someone has a genuine passion for the topic and wants to engage further, but those mortals are rare.
More often than not, he can use his vast knowledge as a smokescreen too, well, as Paimon would most likely put it. Bore people into leaving him alone.
He waves off Hu Tao as she bounces back home, and allows himself to take a stroll through the streets of Liyue Harbor.
The Lantern Rite was ending, another celebration successfully done under the hard work of the Qixing
He gazed around at all the sights, the lanterns, the food stalls, the beautiful atmosphere of people enjoying the celebration.
No
He could never regret what he did.
Not since it lead to peace and happiness like this.
And
If things are as he suspects.
He may never have too.
He feels it once more.
The glow of the creator's blessing.
He can feel it swirling within him as he steps through Liyue Harbor.
He wonders if they can see it as he does. Sees the beauty and resplendence of humanity.
Look, he wants to scream
They are nothing like The Primordial One
They are good, kind and beautiful.
Humans may not be your creation, they may not have originated from this world but that does not mean they do not deserve to stay.
But he doesn’t
First of all because he feels that screaming these things in the middle of a busy street may attract some weird looks.
But also out of fear, fear that any attempt to disrupt this fragile peace could lead to destruction.
Because it is fragile, it has only been a couple of years since the creator has turned their eyes to Teyvat.
Those who have been blessed have been careful in their own way not to destroy this chance that the creator has given them.
A chance to prove themselves, not only as people deserving of their attention and blessing, but as a people.
To prove themselves just as worthy of the dragons of staying in Teyvat.
Because they all know, in their hearts of hearts, that what the creator has created, they could just as easily destroy.
While some may tease him for his age, there is no denying that with age comes experiences that the younger generation may never know.
He himself, whilst having been born long after the disappearance of the creator, witnessed firsthand how it had affected the world.
How Godly remains tainted the earth for far longer than it used to.
How miasma and abyssal energy started to leak forth.
How Leyline disorders became more and more commonplace.
Teyvat was breaking.
It was falling apart.
But perhaps.
With this new chance, it could be fixed.
He could still remember the day the creator first turned their gaze upon Teyvat.
Or well, more specifically, the first time they turned their gaze on him.
He had heard rumors of an outlander from Mondstatdt making their way to Liyue. Tales of their feats and defeating Dvalin with the wayward Anemo Archon were as prevalent as talks about the upcoming Rite of Descension.
He had taken note of it of course, outlanders were rare after all, but he hadn’t expected this one to be quite, consequential.
Not until he met them.
He felt their approach funnily enough, the unbranded aura they carried within them. While he could’ve written it off as an aspect of their outlander status, internally he knew it not to be true.
He was far too young to have ever met the creator, or even the original dragons.
But he has stumbled upon their remnants.
Pure remnants, unlike the gnosis which have been twisted and altered by the time it had spent in the hands of The Primordial One.
It was, indescribable.
Free, yet grounded.
Unwavering yet fluid.
Swift yet languid.
It
It simply was
It was the essence of Teyvat.
The essence of the land he lived and fought and bled and laughed in.
How could he not worship it.
How could he not fear it.
He had felt Childe walk in with bated breath, distracting himself with his cup of tea to settle his nerves.
What did this mean?
Was this the end of Liyue, of humanity, of Teyvat?
Over the centuries people have accepted the creator’s complacency in the affairs of Teyvat.
What does it now mean that they have focused their gaze once more on this land.
Destruction
Salvation
He daren’t hope or guess.
But
Well,
The Traveler was kind.
They had no ill will towards the people of Teyvat.
While it was clear they had their own mission to stove for, they did not hesitate in helping those they can along the way.
If the creator has blessed one such as them, one so kind to humans, one with no ill will.
Perhaps.
A seed of hope planted itself in him, and refused to budge.
As time went on, the seed grew.
Hope grew.
The tiny seed of hope that he tried so hard to ignore and deny could be ignored no longer when he received a blessing himself.
He could still remember it so clearly.
It was a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. He went to work, had tea, chatted with passersby.
There were no great feats.
No great revelations, or offerings.
Yet he felt it for the first time.
A blessing.
A pure, gentle, powerful blessing.
He could feel the sentiment behind it, weak as it was.
Relief, excitement, apprehension.
He wanted to cry, to pray. To thank them for giving him a chance, for giving the people of Teyvat a chance.
But fear held him back.
It still does to this day.
That’s the problem with gods, their pleasure and their wrath can often look the same.
Even as he compared notes with Barbatos and the Adepti, confirming that many of them have been given blessings.
While some like Ganyu, rejoiced in this blessing eager for a chance to prove themselves worthy of this world.
People such as him were still fearful.
Fearful of what this meant and what they wanted.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when he realized that xiangling was also blessed.
Not that the girl knew, after all the creator was very rarely spoken of, only ever mentioned in ancient rites and the most descriptive of history books.
But she had the blessing, a human.
From that point he saw so many others, so many humans, mere mortals given their divine blessing and gaze.
An exorcist, an author, a member of the Qixing.
It spread across Teyvat, whispers as people soon realized that there was a god, an unknown god blessing them.
Granting them abilities beyond their visions, oftentimes enhancing them to levels beyond previously known human limits.
No one dared to say their name, they were insinuations, and speculations, but no one dared disturbed the fragile peace that has settled.
It is an understanding between those who have it.
Those who know, know and those who don’t are kept in the dark.
But it seems that the Creator has turned their gaze to Teyvat and to humans.
~~~~
Masterlist | Next Part
~~~~
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softspiderling · 4 months
Text
illicit affairs - part four | r.c
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summary:
“All done?” You asked, stretching your hand a little to make sure the bandage wasn’t restricting anything.
“Yup,” Rafe replied, shutting the kit. “Or is there anything else?”
“I thought you were going to kiss it better,” you said teasingly.
OR; You reminisce about the day you realized you had fallen in love with your best friend
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of blood (small cut!)
word count: 2,9k
author's note: a little later than usual, but i hope you don't mind! new precious + rafe lore unlocked. this part explores rafe's and precious' friendship more and is slightly angsty (what a 180 from the last part lmaoo). pls pls pls let me know what you thought. happy reading!!! <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
pt. four: "you taught me a secret language"
Throughout your life, Rafe had always been your best friend. Granted, the title became longer the older you got: Rafe, your best friend in the whole world; Rafe your best friend who you had a crush on; Rafe your best friend who you were undoubtedly in love with; and now? Rafe, your best friend who you had sex with.
You sometimes wished you could turn back the time to before you were in love with Rafe.
Or rather, before you admitted you were in love with him.
Deep inside, you knew that there was never a before. You’d always been in love with Rafe. You just refused to admit it, even to yourself, until it pretty much stared you right in the face.
It was right around the time of your senior year at the academy, which admittedly, you didn’t like looking back at all that much since it was probably the most stressful times of your life, with all the exams, finals and college apps you were doing; it didn’t help that your parents were on your ass most of the times, despite you doing fairly well in school. However it all came to a boiling point around the end of the first term of your senior year. You had just come home from studying at the library with the boys - with Rafe just bumming around because he had graduated two years earlier - when your mother greeted you at the door with a letter in her hand, her face red.
“What’s this?”
You sighed internally, turning around to shut the door behind you slowly, using that time to exhale deeply. It had been a long day and the last thing you needed was your mother screaming at you as soon as you stepped over the threshold.
“I don’t know ma,” you replied, squinting your eyes at the letter. Your vision was a little blurry from all the studying you’ve done, but you recognized the crest of the academy on the left corner. “The invitation for the graduation ceremony?”
Your mother scoffed. “Try again. It’s a letter from the principal. You failed a math test.”
“What?”
You snatched the letter out of your mother’s hands scanning the content before sighing, dropping your hands.
“Mom, I didn’t fail the test, I got a 82.”
“That’s basically a fail,” you mother huffed, shaking her head. “How do you want to keep your 4.0 GPA up with grades like this?”
“It’s a test.”
“Stop with the attitude young lady, this is your future we’re talking about?”
“Mom, I know! But it’s just a test, it’s not like it’s gonna affect my grades that much.”
Your mother made a noise of disapproval, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Just a test? Everything counts, you know that! Especially in your senior year, where every single grade you get can decide between an acceptance or being waitlisted.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, running your hand through your hair. “I can’t listen to this right now. I’ve been in the library the whole day and the second I get back you’re on my ass about a fucking 82.”
You shoved your backpack on the counter and turned right back around, opening the door forcefully. Your mother was right behind you, appalled at your tone.
“This conversation isn’t over! Where are you going?!”
“OUT!”
You slammed the door behind you, rushing to your car and tossing your backpack on the passenger seat as you drove off. Brimming with anger, you didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, so you headed straight to the beach, to the one spot you knew you would be left alone.
In less than five minutes after parking, you had put on your bathing suit and unstrapped your surf board from the trunk and were in the water. After catching your first wave, you were still fuming. After the fourth, you started to feel the sun on your face, and the anger slowly seeping away. You lost yourself in the water, becoming one with the ocean, starting to get bold and one tiny misstep on your board made you lose your balance, falling into the wave you were trying to catch. The brute strength of it knocked you around underwater like a rag doll, arm getting caught on some reef, and you were gasping for air as you finally resurfaced, clinging onto your board. With a groan, you heaved yourself back on top of the board, trying to catch your breath as the water lapped around you in smal waves.
“Shit,” you muttered, lifting your wrist to inspect the cut on your wrist, squinting your eyes against the sun. You let out a hiss as the salt water dripped from your fingers onto the cut.
“You tryna kill yourself?”
You jumped, not having expected anyone out there with you. Shaking out your wrist, you lifted your head to see Rafe paddling towards you, a frown on his face.
“What are you doing here, Rafe?”
His hair was still dry, board shorts clinging to his legs when he came to a stop next to you, waves softly lapping against his board.
“I swung by your place. Wanted to see if you wanted to get pizza and instead I find your mom all pissed, said you stormed off,” he explained, “and since I didn’t run into on my way to your house, I figured you’d be out here.”
You let out a sigh, staring out at the sea, ignoring how Rafe was holding his hand out, undoubtedly to get a look at your wrist. With an eye roll, you stretched out your wrist in his direction, and he curled his fingers around it, pulling you closer. Your cheeks heated as your leg pressed against his, added with the feeling of his hot breath on your skin, you breathed out softly.
“Y’know this could’ve ended real badly, precious,” Rafe muttered, brushing his thumb over your skin, before he looked up at you, his eyebrows creased.
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly, you’re not,” Rafe scoffed. “What happened?”
“My mom got all over me because of a “failed math test””, you said, air-quoting. “I’m just sick of it. It’s not like I’ve slacking off or anything, I’m working my ass off and they’re never happy with whatever I do, because in their eyes, I always have room to grow.” You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Rafe when you noticed he was sporting a look on his face that told you he understood exactly what you meant.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Our parents should be doing better than setting expectations for their kids instead of loving them despite their achievements.”
You gave him a wry smile and he only let out a small huff, squeezing your wrist gently. “Are you all done or do you want to keep trying to drown yourself some more?”
Huffing out a laugh, you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’m done.”
The two of you paddled back to the beach, drying off and while Rafe helped you securing your board to your trunk, he glanced over at you, hair falling into his eyes.
“Let me get your cut cleaned off first before we leave. I have a first aid kit in my truck.”
“Kay.”
You took a seat at the edge of his trunk, while Rafe went to fetch the first aid kit from the glove compartment. The sun was starting to set, and with that, the temperature was sinking, your damp hair laying cold on your back. The car door shut, before Rafe turned around the corner of the truck, first aid kit in his hand and sweater slung around his shoulder.
“Put this on,” he said absentmindedly, dropping the sweater in your lap and the first aid kit in the trunk. Rolling your eyes, you slipped into the sweater and it was oddly comforting to be surrounded by his scent, but you didn’t let yourself dwell on that, because it was such a weird thing to think, right? Instead, you watched as Rafe rummaged through the first aid kit, picking out some bandages, gauze and a disinfectant spray.
“Roll up your sleeve.”
“Yes, nurse Cameron.”
Rafe gave you a look, but you only snickered as you rolled up the sleeve, before holding out your wrist to him. He muttered something under his breath as he cleaned your cut and dressed it, without much complaints from your side, even though the disinfectant stung a little. Rafe taped the end of the bandage snugly to your wrist, tossing the rest of the material back into the kit.
“All done?” You asked, stretching your hand a little to make sure the bandage wasn’t restricting anything.
“Yup,” Rafe replied, shutting the kit. “Or is there anything else?”
“I thought you were going to kiss it better,” you said teasingly. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, before he reached for your hand, lifting it to his mouth to place a kiss on the bandage. You flushed, not expecting him to actually do it.
“You’re an idiot,” you said hotly, shoving him away but he only laughed, running his hand through his hair. The grin on his face was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him.
“There she is,” Rafe said, cupping your chin to lift it, forcing you to look into his eyes. Suddenly, your hands grew clammy and swallowed nervously as he smiled at you, blue eyes sparkling. For a split second, you thought he was gonna kiss you and for some reason, you weren’t opposed. Actually, you kind of really wished he’d kiss you.
Wait, what?
That was not a normal thing to want from your best friend. Suddenly, your heart started racing and you let out a deep breath, hoping it would calm yourself down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just my mom,” you lied, wringing your hands in your lap. “I just stormed off. She’s gonna be super pissed and I’ll probably be grounded until I’m thirty.”
“Nah, come on. I bet she completely forgot about it already.”
You gave him a look and Rafe winced. “Okay, maybe not. But if we give her some time, we can hope for the best? Come on.”
He tugged you off of the trunk, closing up the front panel.
“Let’s go get some pizza. My treat.”
“I don’t know,” you whinged, “Maybe I should just go home. Get it over with.”
You weren’t sure if it was the best idea to spend more time with Rafe right now considering how weird you were feeling. Worst case, you’d do blurt something out and make things weird between the two of you, that was the last thing you needed. But Rafe wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.
“Trust me, whether you go home now or in three hours won’t change anything. If anything, it’ll give you an even clearer head after having some food, huh?”
As if on cue, your stomach grumbled loudly and Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth twitching up.
“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes at him. “Gino’s?”
“Yup, meet you there.”
While Rafe got into his truck, you got into your jeep, rubbing your hand over your face, frustrated.
“Fuck,” you muttered with a small sigh. You couldn’t actually like Rafe more than a friend, right? That’d be crazy. You’d known each other for so long, had been friends for so long, there was no way. It was probably just a crush. There was no denying that Rafe was attractive, and it was normal to want to kiss attractive people, right?
I’m just emotional because of the fight with mom, you thought to yourself, rolling your shoulders, forcing yourself to calm down. I am not in love with Rafe. He’s my best friend. With a deep exhale, you put your key in the ignition, pulling out of the parking spot and driving towards Gino’s.
When you got there, Rafe was already entering the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind him. You turned your car off, and got out, grabbing a blanket from your backseat and opening the front panel of the trunk of Rafe’s truck, laying down the blanket. By the time you had made yourself yourself comfortable, Rafe returned with two pizza cartons, balancing two cans of soda on top. You reached for the cans, setting them down next to you so Rafe could settle down across from you, laying down the pizza cartons. Wordlessly, Rafe opened both of them, waiting for you to reach for a slice before he got one himself, biting into it.
Silence settled over you as you ate, with you handing Rafe his soda when he finished his slice, knowing he liked to wash his crust down with a drink, and him handing you a napkin. You and Rafe had never needed words to communicate before, understanding each other without having to say anything and as you sat there, glancing at Rafe as you chewed on your pizza, you came to the terrifying realization that you loved him
You were in love with him.
Suddenly, your mind was racing, coming up with 10 thousand different scenarios where you’d ruin your friendship because you had fallen in love with your best friend, as you started to think back to the past, realizing how obvious it was that you had feelings for him. Had it always been like this?
Lost in thought, you didn’t even notice that all that was left of the pizzas were crumbs, as Rafe shut the cartons, stacking them together. Drinking the rest of your soda, you crushed the can in your hand like it was your feelings, bringing the empty cans and cartons to the nearest trashcan as Rafe cleaned up the trunk. You let yourself stare at the back of his head for a while, inhaling deeply before you cleared your throat. He glanced back over his shoulder, attention on you.
“Thanks,” you said, trying not to be awkward as you fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater. Rafe gave you a look.
Despite the fact that you were sitting in silence as you ate, his presence had comforted, brought your nerves down and made your anger disappear the way no one really could. Rafe wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into him, head on his chest. You didn’t revel in his arms for too long, as the two of you separated as Rafe closed his trunk. He dusted his hands off before turning around, his attention wholly on you.
“Do you want me to come home with you? Create a buffer for your mom?”
“No,” you replied, crossing your arms. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”
Rafe eyed you sceptically for a second before he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “A’ight then. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
You smiled at him, giving a quick nod before you got into your car, waving at him as you drove off, a pit in your stomach. The drive home didn’t take long, but the sun had already set as you pulled up on your estate. The house was illuminated in the headlights of your car, quickly returning to darkness as you turned your engine off. There were no lights on as you entered the house; you were hoping that it meant that your parents had gone out, and you’d avoid another confrontation with your mother.
Picking up your bookbag from the floor, you paused as you saw your mother sit in the living room, a book in her lap. The two of you looked at each other for a second, neither saying a word.
“Hey mom,” you greeted her, breaking the silence. Your mother took off her reading glasses, shutting the book.
“Where were you?”
“Surfing.”
Your mother slid the book on the table, setting the glasses on top. “Did you eat?”
“Yeah,” you replied, shifting on your feet. “I got some pizza with Rafe.”
She nodded slowly, easing into the cushions behind her. You waited, wondering if she was gonna apologize but your mother didn’t say anything; maybe she was waiting for you to apologize.
“… I’ll be upstairs.”
Your mother didn’t stop you as you retreated upstairs into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Setting the book bag on your desk, you laid down on your bed with a sigh, reaching for your phone.
Rafe [03/21/19: 7:44 pm]: everything good?
Precious [03/21/19: 7:49 pm]: as well as expected
Precious [03/21/19: 7:49 pm]: thanks for being there for me
Rafe [03/21/19: 7:51 pm]: always, precious
Ever since that day, you knew you loved Rafe, and sometimes, you indulged yourself and let yourself imagine what it would be like to be more than Rafe’s best friend. But as he was lying in the bed next to you, his chest slowly rising and falling while you were unable to sleep, you never would have expected that it would be like this.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: thoughts???👀
465 notes · View notes
eelnoise · 4 months
Text
with hearts aligned (nsfw!)
zoro x fem!reader this fic's followup btw. takes place between fishman island and PH (yes there's lore!! 🙄! and yes zoro did keep all that shit bottled up for a bit!!) cw: confessions of love, somewhat troubled zoro, not-so-awkward first times (our boy is intuitive okay ?!), piv sex, fingering, cute stuff idk an: okay i know this took a long time but i re-wrote this like 5 times and accidently got hyperfixated on ffxiv and generally needed a break from writing BUT WE ARE BACK BABY !!! wc: 3.4k tagging @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @sleepymarimo @willowbelle @nina-ya
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The clinking of cutlery upon plates and chatter among friends fills the small island tavern with animated joy and serene relief. Brook plays the violin somewhere to the left side of the room, though the eager blathering of the crew drowns out the more finer notes and melodies played. 
A well-deserved interruption and a welcome change from the unpredictable nature of the past few day’s events – though for Zoro, it’s a distraction that’s come to an end. Despite the crew being whole again, he still feels a hollowness within – something no amount of eating or drinking or fighting can fill.
And it’s entirely his fault.
You sit across the table from him, sipping at a near-empty glass of wine and discussing something inaudibly with Usopp. He can’t quite read your expression from where he’s seated, but you look interested enough in the conversation. 
And if it’s obvious to himself that he’s keeping you at arm’s length, it’s clear to anyone with a working conscience that he’s doing his utmost to avoid you. The many longing gazes from his peripheral do not go unnoticed, but he dares not to look – for the hurt in your eyes would crush him and sear and stain into his soul.  A far-flung difference from the camaraderie that came before all of this, when the two of you were rarely found an inch too far apart from one another – and now Zoro can’t even look you in the eye. After his many imagined intimate rendezvous,how could he?
With you distracted, he lets his eye wander across your face, to the length of your arm, down to the glass pinched between your fingers – but it comes to rest upon your lips. He watches, transfixed on the flight peek of your tongue behind your teeth when you speak, how your lips twist with each syllable, how they purse when you’re in thought, and the way they stretch across your cheeks when you smile.
Zoro’s throat tightens, a sharp dagger of guilt carving into his chest. He forces his stare to the table, the tiniest sliver of your form still lingering in the corner of his vision. You’ve journeyed this far, fought, bled, and laughed together. And now, for once, he’s unable to find the words to say.
The weight of his inaction bears down on him, leaving him listless. The only respite he’s found is in the distraction of a battle, a thudding, a clash, steel ringing against steel. In those moments, he’s alive, he’s focused, and the words that plague his every waking thought cease to exist. But without the battle, Zoro is left with nothing but the echoes of unspoken desires.
His hand trembles, gripping his mug of ale as he brings it to his lips. The bitterness of the brew does little to quell the fire in his chest. He’s a swordsman, a pirate – not a poet, bard, or a man of words. It’s a mess of feelings. Lust, want, longing, love, all these indescribable sensations that only serve to make Zoro feel weak and helpless and vulnerable when faced with them. He feels like a coward, daring never to speak to you again, never to confess his feelings, and never pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless.
Zoro’s eye meets yours for one singular fleeting moment, the intensity of the connection making his heart race. He knows he can’t keep up this charade, this dance of avoidance – but how does one even confess to these feelings? How does one bridge the gap between comrade and lover? He scratches his chin, trying to come up with a solution, but all he can think of is a single, frustrating fact: he can’t keep running.
Whether it’s every empty bottle he’s seen the bottom of tonight, the last of his resolve wearing thin, or just the sheer guilt of it all that drives him suddenly to his feet, he isn’t sure. Inhaling one of the deepest breaths he’s ever taken, he silently trudges around the table to where you’re seated.
At first, he hovers awkwardly so as to not interrupt the conversation you’re having. Both hands come to rest at either side of the back of your chair and he can feel his pulse through his fingertips on the wood – and when you tilt your head up to look at him, a curious smile twitching at the edges of your cheeks, he cracks.
Zoro clears his throat and forces his gaze. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”
His voice is hoarse as he asks, and he hopes you can’t hear the nerves that lie beneath his words. Surprised by how much he’s sweating and how his heart races against his ribcage, he swallows to regain some semblance of composure.
“It’s important,” he adds, trying not to stumble over his thoughts. It’s a pitiful excuse, but all that comes to mind amidst the maelstrom of emotion in his head.
“Oh, yeah – of course!” You reply with raised brows and begin to stand. Zoro allows you the room to move, taking a step back from the table. “Sorry, Usopp,” you say as you turn and give him a weak shrug, “Remind me where we left off later?”
“No prob!” The sniper shoots a thumbs-up and the two of you exchange a wave before you turn to follow Zoro away from the lively table and out of the tavern.
Zoro leads you to a quiet spot by the docks nearby, where the salty scent of the sea mingles with the faint tang of fish and the distant hum of the island. He can’t bring himself to look at you, electing instead to focus on the water and the twinkling reflection of the night sky in the soft waves.
“Everything okay?” You ask softly, taking a few steps toward him and assuredly taking note of his hesitance. “What’s up?”
“I missed you,” Zoro replies, fixated on the sigh of the shifting tides lapping at the wooden posts below. “A lot.”
“I missed you too, Zoro, but what’s so urgent?” The concern in your tone is apparent and caring, and normally works to soothe him when his mind runs rampant – but this moment, this situation he finds himself in, it does the opposite.
“No,” Zoro shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I missed you - differently from the others.”
“Differently?”
Zoro’s jaw clenches, and part of him wants to jump into the ocean and swim as far away from the island as his arms will take him. The honest admission hangs heavy on his tongue, the weight of the years of denial suddenly threatening to push it out. He pauses, opens and closes his mouth a few times, then finally, with a shaky exhale, he looks you straight in the face.
“I love you.”
The admission hangs between you, the weight of years of suppression. Zoro shifts his weight from one foot to the other, twinges of regret creeping up the nape of his neck.  It takes you a moment to reply, and considering the nature of the confession, it's reasonable. Zoro's nerves feel like hot coals beneath his skin as he watches your face for any sign of an answer.
“...for real?” Your gentle response fills his entire being with a wistful spark of hope.
Zoro's fingers curl into fists. "Yes, for real," he confirms, still not looking up. His heart thuds painfully in his chest, a heavy, leaden weight. All his hopes and fears rest on the outcome of this conversation. He's unsure if he could handle rejection, but he can't go back to the pretense any longer. Zoro swallows, tasting bile at the back of his throat. "I should've told you before now, but I... I'm an idiot.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his voice quiet.
He isn’t sure when you move, but a smaller, softer hand wraps around his – and in an instant, he feels himself relax into your touch. Zoro relaxes his grip, allowing your fingers to entwine with his.
He snaps his gaze towards you, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears. You peer at him, a sweet, crooked smile on your lips and a blush across your face. And when your free hand finds purchase on his cheek, Zoro finds himself leaning in. 
You meet him halfway in a genuine, tender kiss that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Zoro's arms wrap around you and pull you close. The world around falls away as you both delight in the embrace. The kiss is gentle, delicate, and filled with longing. It floods him with an unexpected warmth – and for once, he can't think of the past or the future. He's simply lost in the present moment.
When you finally pull away, Zoro can't help but lean into your palm on his cheek with a bit of a dazed smile on his face. Holding onto your hand, his other hand slowly moves to cup your cheek in return. His heart is pounding, his mind a blank slate tinged with overwhelming happiness. He's lost in your gaze, unable to speak, but he doesn't need to. The moment says everything.
"Do you know how much I missed you?" you murmur, lips ghosting his and thumb trailing upward to gently trace the lower half of the scar that now covers his right eye. "How often I thought of you?"
And then you say it - the words he's only imagined hearing you speak.
"I love you, too.”
Zoro's chest tightens, a lump forming in his throat as he meets your gaze, his heart swelling. Words fail him, the raw emotion in his gut silences his voice.  A slow smile spreads across his lips, a look of awe and joy shadowing his features. He doesn't need words. The simple fact that you feel the same is enough to fill him with warmth and peace. 
Leaning in again, Zoro captures you in another deep kiss – a deep and soulful kiss that speaks volumes. He's consumed by the feeling of being with you, of finally being able to express his love. His hand moves to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he kisses you with all the passion and longing he's suppressed for far too long.
You sigh into him, the sound willingly swallowed by Zoro’s growing hunger. Arms wrap around his shoulders and you press yourself into him, the opened-mouthed kiss quickly turning into a twist of tongues dancing together in a frenzied rhythm with audible smacks of saliva mixing with each meeting of your lips. His hand clutches your hair more firmly, his other hand slipping around her waist to pull you impossibly closer.
The gesture is all-consuming, a whirlpool of desire and affection that leaves him lightheaded. For the first time in years, he feels like he's truly alive, his heart beating in perfect harmony with yours.
Slowly breaking the kiss, Zoro's lips ghost over your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone as he breathes in your scent, savoring every moment. He wants to memorize the taste, the feel, and the sound of your breath as his hands roam over your body, his heart beating a furious tempo.
You let out a small gasp when his lips touch your sensitive flesh, your body reacting to his every move. Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips as he nibbles at your neck, causing your grip to tighten and for you to moan softly into his ear. 
Part of Zoro wants to take you here and now, but what remains of his will stops him. He growls into your neck and lifts you up fully and, – with a little assistance from you –  heads in the direction of the ship anchored nearby. The others wouldn't be back for a while, so why not take advantage of the privacy?
You’re weightless in his arms as he carries you away from the bustle of the small island village and towards the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Zoro can feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants as you kiss and nip along his neck, giggling in his ear when he retaliates with a playful squeeze to your rear and a rumbling growl against your skin.
He wastes little time pushing the door to the men’s quarters open with the tip of his boot, his grip on your hips tightening when he moves to lift you onto the nearest bunk, one hand still clutching your waist while the other travels up under your shirt to caress your chest, deft hands making quick work of unhooking your bra and tossing it aside to be forgotten.
Zoro’s breathing hitches, his eyes dark and lustful as he dips his head to suckle at the swell of your breast. He can feel himself twitching against your thigh, and despite his inexperience, he wants nothing more than to please you. 
He kisses down your body, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue while his hand roams, finding your core already soaked with desire. He pauses, fingers grazing over your clothed slit and feeling you shiver in pleasure. Zoro murmurs your name, and snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of both your shorts and panties before sliding them down your legs in one motion, leaving you naked and bared before him. His own pants follow suit, quickly discarded next to yours.
Zoro's hand finds its way between your thighs again, spreading your folds with ease, and he lowers his head to kiss you once more, his tongue probing your mouth as his fingers gently stroke your clit, drinking in your soft moans.
"Show me." He whispers just loud enough for her to hear. His expression is a loving one, though she notes the slightest bit of hesitance in his words.
Show me how you like it.
You nod and guide his fingers, taking two of the large digits and easing them in circles on your clit. "Not too rough, though," you say patiently, letting go of him with a soft sigh and an encouraging smile. 
Zoro hums in acknowledgment, his thumb and forefinger doing as you ask, the slickness of your pussy allowing his fingers to move easily as he continues to tease at your clit. His other hand rests on your hip, steadying you as his thumb rolls over the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting small moans from you. 
Zoro brushes the tip of his finger against your entrance in an experimental move, and by the way you wreathe and whine, he's urged to continue his work. He slides one past your folds and inside of you, making your toes curl and your back arch.
"Shit–" You sputter out between breathless sighs of desire. "Feels really good..."
One finger becomes two, your inner walls clenching around them as he scissors them in and out of your pussy. There's a wet slosh of sound coming from where you meet, your wetness audibly coating his fingers and dripping down down his wrist. 
Zoro's breath hitches at the sound of your pleasure, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reaction. He's entranced by how your body responds to him, and he can't help but lick his lips as he continues to finger you. He adds a third, the stretch making you gasp and tighten around him.
His pace increases, his fingers swirling and thrusting within you, and he watches as your body writhes and arches beneath him. He can feel the tension building in you, the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.
"Do you want me inside you?" Zoro asks, his voice low and thick with need. He's anxious to give you pleasure, but he's struggling to keep himself from joining his fingers inside you.
"Please," you whine, eyes wide and watery with pleasure but red hot with the need for more. "Need you, Zoro."
Zoro's heart beats wildly in his chest, his own need for you overwhelming as he pulls his fingers from your slick warmth and licks them clean before sitting back on his heels to position himself between your legs. He lines his cock up with your entrance and looks into your eyes, the passion reflected in his own.
Without warning, he thrusts forward, plunging deep into your tightness. You're hot and wet around him, and he lets out a growl of satisfaction as he bottoms out. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to adjust and to revel in the feeling of being connected. He pulls back, slowly at first, then picks up the pace as he leans over you, the headboard digging into the wall with each forceful thrust. Zoro's eyes never leave yours, his gaze locked as if he's trying to absorb every detail of your expression.
Each stroke of his cock against your walls feels heaven-sent, and the taste of you that lingers on his tongue drives him crazy with want. Nails dig into the flesh of his triceps and your back arches, a song of passion belting from between your lips, a serenade made for him and him alone.
Zoro grunts at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more ferocious as he watches your reaction, the sight of you so lost in ecstasy driving him to the brink. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he pounds into you, the sweat glistening on your skin as your bodies collide.
The moonlight trickling in from the window illuminates your body below him. It's a sight better than anything he could dream, your face contorting in bliss and ecstasy, hands clinging harshly onto him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Savoring a feeling that neither wants to forget.
"You're so fucking perfect." Zoro growls, leaning over you to kiss you feverishly, his tongue seeking yours as he fucks you. He can feel the tension building, the way your body tenses and your nails dig into his skin, and he knows you're close. He wants to give you this moment, wants to make you cum as much as he wants to feel it himself.
"Come on," he urges, his voice thick with lust. "Let go for me." The words were a warning, a promise that he wasn't going to last much longer..Zoro increases the pace of his assault, his own release imminent as he watches your face, your eyes half-lidded and flushed with pleasure. Together, you move, driven by the primal need for release.
Zoro's thumb meets your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with the speed of his ministrations. The dual stimulation pushes you over the edge, crying out butchered attempts at his name as your body convulses around him, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Zoro can't hold back any longer, feeling his own climax building as he watches you.
With a roar, he lets go, burying himself deep as he cums, the spasms of your walls milking him as he shudders and groans into your ear, seed spilling inside of you. He pants heavily, leaning over you as he rests on his forearms, his forehead meeting yours. He stays like that long enough to press a quick kiss to your lips before collapsing atop you with a very exhausted, but very relieved sigh. 
You breathlessly hold him close. Cradling his sweaty form to your chest, one hand makes its way into his moss-green tresses to lightly scratch at his scalp. Zoro lets himself relax, letting out a sigh and nestling into your shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling thoroughly sated in your embrace.
Zoro pulls out of you eventually, gently rolling off your body to rest. He pulls you into his side as he nuzzles into your hair. "I love you." He whispers, his voice soft and tender and almost unrecognizable.
Snuggling into his side, your hand still lazily strokes his head. "I love you too," you reply, voice equally tender, and a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Your soft touch and tender words soothe Zoro, your shared connection cemented in the aftermath of passion. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, a smile still lingering on his lips. The words you whispered echo in his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest – and together, in each other's arms, you find peace.
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sixosix · 1 year
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wc 900, guys i’m still a 4.0 lore player so forgive me if lyney’s getting ooc now 🙁 but anw ENJOY THIS MESS OF A GUY!! requested by anon
or, lyney can't stop staring at your lips
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Lyney is beginning to think he might be obsessed with you. Or that you’re bad for him.
He’s stumbling over his lines when he sees you in the audience, his fingers catch on each other when he catches you smiling knowingly, and he gets nervous—the most absurd tell. It’s unlike him to feel his heart pounding in his ears when he’s already started the show. None of this feels natural.
It gets to the point where Lynette has to drag him off after a scene, worry evident on her usually-passive features.  “What’s happening to you?”
“I think I might be going insane,” Lyney admits, running his hand across his face. “I can feel it, Lynette. I’ve gone mad.”
All because you kissed him and he damn near exploded on the spot.
It wasn’t a special kiss. There wasn’t even tongue involved. He didn’t even see it coming. Hell, it was half a second and only on the side of his lips. Can it even be counted as a kiss?
If kisses could drive Lyney to a point where he can’t stop thinking about your lips, it might.
Lyney makes a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal. Lynette sighs heavily, as in relief that it’s not anything serious. But it is something serious. How is he supposed to move on in his life when you’re the only thing running through his head?
“Lynette,” Lyney cries, “this isn’t normal. I’ve caught something. Check my temperature.”
“You’re lovesick,” she replies simply, batting the hand that’s trying to get her to place her palm on his forehead. “and you have a show to finish. Get it together, brother.”
Get it together. Yeah, he can do that—if the object of his desires isn’t seated in the front row. But for now, Lynette is glaring daggers, stern like a mother, and Lyney sucks it up and makes a point of avoiding your eyes later on.
Avoiding your eyes usually means staring at other parts of your face.
Lyney feels the last bit of his sanity chip away when you decided it would be a splendid idea to wear something glossy over your lips, as if he wasn’t already distracted enough as is. You have got to be doing this on purpose.
Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip. He feels lightheaded.
“You look desperate,” Lynette tells him, which is frankly enough to make him want the ground to swallow him whole.
This also gets to a point where Freminet pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling sick. He feels like it. Lovesick and desperate, as Lynette so elegantly put it.
How embarrassing. Is this what you’ve reduced him to? Freminet looked at him with all wide, worried eyes, and Lyney can’t outright say the reason for his predicament. He excuses that he feels tired, and he doesn’t mention that his lips are feeling incredibly lonely.
Freminet, precious and understanding and thankfully unaware, nods and says, “I hope you feel better soon.” Lyney finds that unlikely, but he thanks him anyway. “Oh, and you should look behind you.”
Lyney turns and finds you waving at him, gesturing for him.Your fingers curl and it almost looks like you’re calling for a pet. And Lyney, weak and obsessed Lyney, follows without a second thought. Try as he might, he can never stay too long away from you, because as much as you’re driving him crazy, seeing you, hearing you, is enough to brighten his entire day and momentarily forget you’re the reason why he almost messed up with his lines.
He stands before you with a bit of distance. You want him gone so you pull him by the collar until his head is dipped down.
“You look feverish,” you say. Feverish, desperate, the list could go on and on.
I feel like it, Lyney wants to say; instead, his words are caught on the tip of his tongue as your eyes trace over his entire face. He feels as if he’s laying himself bare for you, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all, not when he’s soaking up your attention like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.
“Hey,” you whisper, a testament to your proximity, a smirk on your face, “my eyes are up here, Lyney.”
Lyney frowns, feeling petulant now that he’s aware of your schemes. “I’m not being indecent; please don’t phrase it like that.” Or is it worse that he’s ogling your mouth?
You laugh brightly, and he melts just a little. “You’re too obvious, Lyney.” He loves it when you say his name. He’s addicted to how your mouth carves his name. A poke on his cheek startles him enough to look up to your eyes, shame crawling in his cheeks. “See? You’re doing it again.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“Lyney.” You have got to stop doing that. Then again, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose seeing how it affects him terribly. “If you want something, take it. Don’t stand around and do nothing about it.”
Lyney’s breath hitches, his blush climbing higher from his neck to his entire face. “Don’t just say that.” He can’t handle your crooked grin. He pulls you to his chest and buries his face on your neck—if it’s to keep your face away or to hide his expression, no one would be able to tell. “You can’t just say that.”
“I know what I’m saying. Don’t take me for a fool.”
Your lips brush his. His mind blanks. You’re bad for him—you have to be, but everything that comes after feels natural, at least.
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Love Language
masterlist
summary: you’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?
paring: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.6k
warnings: language, not being able to say “i love you”, talk of sex
author’s note: i always found it interesting dean never told lisa he loved her…like ever. which is strange to me, considering how long they were together?
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Three whole years you’d been with Dean, and neither of you saw an end anywhere in sight. You had grown up a hunter and you’d hit it off with Dean almost instantly when you had met him about five years ago. What started off as a wholesome friendship became deeper and more passionate after a night of drinking.
He cared about you so fucking much, you cared about him too. You were deeply in love. But neither of you had ever actually said love.
It was beginning to really bother you. Why hadn’t he said it? Every other relationship you had up until now had imploded long before the three-year-mark because of your inability to say the three big words.
Did Dean not love you? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t said it yet. You knew you felt that way about him, that you L-worded him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way.
“You okay?” Dean asked when he looked up from the lore book he was reading and was met with your blank stare.
“Yeah…just thinking.”
“About?”
“Do you think it’s weird we haven’t said you-know-what to each other yet?” you asked. He furrowed his brows before he realized what you meant.
“Oh…no? No, definitely not.”
“Dean,” you sighed, closing the book in front of you. “I care about you so much it’s fucking insane but-”
“Right back at ‘cha! Let’s just leave it at that,” he cut you off.
“But, isn’t it strange we can’t say you-know-what? I mean I’d fucking die for you and I can’t say the three words? That’s fuckin’ weird!”
“To be fair, you have died for me. Like twice now,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled a little. “And maybe we haven’t said the words but we’ve done other things.”
“If you’re talking about sex right now I swear to god-”
“No!” he chuckled. “I’m talking about that time you jumped in front of a bullet for me. I’m talking about when you were dying in my arms and I made a deal with Crowley to save you. I’m talking about how you bring me chicken noodle soup when I’m sick and force me to stay in bed till I’m feeling better. I’m talking about how many times I’ve bought you tampons and pads and chocolates so you didn’t have to leave the bunker when you were on your period.
“I’m talking about letting you drive Baby, I’m talking about you letting me use your precious espresso machine. I’m talking about the way I look at you when you aren’t looking, and the way you laugh at my clearly un-funny jokes. I’m talking about holding you when you cry and bringing you breakfast in bed. I’m talking about you letting me sleep on your boobs because they’re more comfortable than our pillows even though I know you’re sore in the morning.”
You let out a laugh and slightly rolled your eyes, though you were swelling inside. Dean smiled as he continued.
“I’m talking about those three words that we don’t even have to say because we prove to eachother we feel it every fucking day.”
“God damn it Dean Winchester!” You shook your head, still smiling. You got off the chair, walked around the table, and sat down in his lap. You put your hands on his face and kissed him sweetly. “You mean everything to me, you know that?”
“I do,” he whispered as you rested your forehead on his. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” You nodded. “See, then I think that’s enough.”
“Me too,” you replied before you kissed him again.
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hazshit-hotel-hater · 28 days
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“Excuse me sir! There must someone you’ve confused me for!”
Having Angel withdrawal again sorry guys :/ its time for some uhh… prologue stuff?? I think thats right. Anyway! As I mentioned in this lovely post, when sinners die the time it takes for them to wake up in hell and where they wake up depends on how they died. So for Angels case his body was formed in hell in a hospital bed cause thats where he died so theres like fibres and metal in his body from being formed around a hospital bed! This is also going to go into how regenerating and how injuries work so get ready! Basically whatever your body was originally formed and made out of regenerates eventually, you can have scars if theyre really big (uncommon since the injury usually kills you) but if you die again in hell they go away. Angel gets injured quite a lot and none of these injuries are permanent. That isn’t to say you can heal by killing yourself though! If you do die while injured there may actually be lasting complications since bodies in hell are typically made to regenerate while gravely wounded. Its kind of like a fucked up computer so if you have a broken leg and die by say snapping your neck the body may get confused and regenerate bones and such incorrectly. Or it may not! Its hell who knows! Ill likely figure out a more concrete plan and way that it works but at the moment I enjoy this aspect of hell to not have a random cheat code and instead include some body horror. Its hell so like some stuff is probably confusing right??
Back to Angel, later on around season 1 in the rewrite he also has throat surgery to remove his deformed inner fangs and those DO actually stay gone because certain hospitals in hell (usually expensive ones) have tools from sloth that have been permitted by Lucifer. Similar to how Stolas got that lust portal gem or whatever. Angels body wasn’t supposed to form like that and this is a common thing to happen with sinners that die “long-term” and that sounds confusing but it really just means sinners that die in comatose-esque ways like Angel. His body was dying over the course of months (December to March to be exact) so parts of his body formed over complicated or were underdeveloped like the aforementioned fangs (that were originally meant to form inside of his mouth and not his throat) that would randomly bare themselves and stab his own throat, paralyzing Angel temporarily. Other examples would be parts of his legs and smaller stomach.
This is the surgery Angel got by the way (expenses covered by Velvette but thats a whole other plot line)
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On top of this I also wanted to draw Angel’s old markings (at least one of them). Prior to Valentino, Angel looked much similar marking-wise to his original comic designs where he was more purple and yellow with all the fun skulls and stripes. Though, with how contracts work in my rewrite, Angel loses the markings and they change into hearts after his contract and cannot return to normal after his contract is terminated. The same is true for Husker and Niffty. This whole piece is really just supposed to capture to horror of waking up after being comatose and you’re suddenly not yourself anymore and also not where you were for the past months and your entire anatomy is changed. Can you imagine waking up without bones??? In 1947??? Id have a breakdown personally!
I also wanted to use green for that sick gross feeling. Kind of the dread you feel before throwing up, but also to represent Angel’s later feelings of envy that I was unable to present in his design. I really like pink characters in green atmospheres if you can’t tell. If I think of more stuff to add to this post I will, but for now it’s just a lot of lore. Hopefully you all enjoy it!
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lovelookspretty · 1 month
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not so bad
college!rafe cameron x reader au
— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.
warning(s): cuteness, lore, kisses
authors note: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE but eeee we get a clear hint that y/n lived in figure 8 back home with rafe !! also in this au, rafe and y/n are aged down to 18-19 while everyone back home in obx are still 16
++ also sorry !! if u havent been added to the tag list yet ( even though uve asked ) its mostly been because i cant tag u. idk why tumblr isnt letting me but ill try to tag in comments for anyone who cant be tagged in my posts !!
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
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rafe had agreed to join you at the dining hall for breakfast alone to talk about last night. you’ve felt guilty since you read his message, but at the same time the sight of rafe going upstairs with that girl has you upset. you’re conflicted. you barely got any sleep last night because of it.
“i miss the waffles i’d have back home,” rafe was telling you as the two of you enter the dining hall and head straight for the food. “now it’s just sad.”
you look over at the waffle station that’s accompanied by a line of students. it’s usually this way and you can tell he means he doesn’t eat waffles anymore because of it.
“is there usually not a line leading to breakfast cooked by the private chef in your abundance of a home?” you ask him, and you approach the bagels to toast one.
“jealous?” rafe puzzles, to which you raise your eyebrows at.
“never that,” you say with a shake of your head, and you lean against the counter.
once you’ve collected all that you want to eat, you lead rafe to an empty table. the hall is loud and active, but you do your best to find something in a corner where there’s the least amount of people. you set your food down before settling down simultaneously.
“sorry for telling you to get out last night,” you start with, and you watch as rafe prepares his food. “i didn’t see your text ‘til after you fell asleep so . . . just wanted to talk today and hear you out.”
“thanks,” rafe mutters as he grabs his cup of juice, taking a gulp of it before placing it back where it was. he leans forward, crossing his arms on top of the table. “i’m assuming you saw that girl.”
“right.”
“that was . . . someone i talked to when i first got here,” he tells you, using his hands slightly to explain himself. “i met a girl the first day i was moving into my dorm. we talked for maybe like . . . a week, and then classes started and i just found other hobbies.”
you pick at your eggs. “do you mean hookups?” you ask him, and without having to look at him, you can tell he’s grimacing.
“we never even made things official but i guess she was hoping that to happen. haven’t given her a single thought since the first day of school but she caught me at the party,” he continues, and you lean back in your chair. “honestly when she brought me upstairs she was just yelling at me the whole time. i don’t know if you heard—”
“the music was loud rafe, no one heard you, i’m sure,” you tell him.
he gives you a slight glare for interrupting him. “whatever. i told her what she was saying was bullshit and she got mad at me,” he says. “i thought i should’ve told you ‘cause i . . . i don’t know. enzo and lara know about her but you don’t. didn’t want you to think i was just gonna have sex with some random girl.”
“you can do what you want rafe, it’s not like it’s any of my business if you choose to do something like that,” you say. he stares at you in silence and it’s a little concerning. you can’t read the expression at all. “but thanks for telling me anyway.”
“yeah,” rafe murmurs as, just on time, lorenzo and elara approach the table once they find you two there. you send them a smile as they come over, but rafe is still staring at you, guilt still glinting in his eye, “anytime.”
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“how does morrison explore the concept of memory and its effects on identity in ‘beloved’?” you read a question to one of your assignments out loud. you’re sitting in rafe and lorenzo’s dorm with the two boys, all spread out across the room.
with an uneasy look on his face, rafe scratches the back of his head, “i don’t fuckin’ know.”
“maybe we should take a break,” you suggest, to which the boys agree to immediately. you lift your ipad off your lap and settle it down on the spot on the floor beside you, and you lay down. “i could go for some . . . something to drink maybe.”
“café?” lorenzo asks and you hum in approval. he checks his phone for the time, “i could dr . . . oh shit. no, i have to meet up with lara like now. i can’t make it guys. sorry.”
he gets up to grab his bag, and you look over to rafe to see if he’s still okay with going. it’s only five. you doubt he has anything else planned today.
rafe gets up from his bed. “i’ll drive,” he volunteers.
“let me go change first,” you say as you grab your slippers and leave to your dorm since it’s cold out. “bye lorenzo!”
“bye y/n!” you hear him call from his dorm as you slip into yours, throwing on a hoodie and changing your bottoms to wear some sweats, then pull your sneakers on. you put your hair up before heading outside where rafe is already waiting.
he’s fiddling with his keys when he spots you, and he points behind him, “let’s go.”
you follow rafe out of the dorm building and to the parking lot to find his car. this is your first time being inside. you slide into the passengers seat quietly and put on your seatbelt. within moments, rafe backs up out of his spot and drives you two out of the lot.
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“thank you,” rafe says to the cashier after your order is complete and paid for, thanks to rafe. you turn around and head for the first table you see, but rafe seems to find more interest at the table in the very back corner against the window. you have no choice but to follow him.
you settle down in the chair and pull your phone out of your pocket, just to check any and all texts from family. you look like a fool as you keep checking the message app and your lockscreen notification for something, anything. rafe can tell you’re just trying to fill the void.
“remember that time when we were kids and they were hosting that charity gala,” rafe begins to recall, and your gaze slowly falls on him. “there was that ballroom dance and our parents paired us up.”
“you stepped on my foot,” you remind him.
“you were so serious trying to dance while hobbling around on one foot,” he returns, and the memory of 6-year-old you makes you smile softly. “the step was an accident by the way. i didn’t know my lefts from my rights . . . or— or remember the school play we did in 5th grade? where i was the prince and you wore a dress?”
you deadpan. “‘cause i was the princess,” you say, then shake your head. “i remember you forgot your line and i had to tell you what it was.”
“i thought you were so annoying for that,” rafe’s words causes you to laugh, and he grinned from ear to ear. “like i told my sister how much of a know-it-all you were. you showed me up in our play.”
“i remember summer camp,” you add on to the list of memories.
for a moment rafe has to think about it. “what?” he says, a little confused. “when?”
“the first year we went,” you say like it’s obvious. “the tug-of-war had me on edge for months.”
“oh!” rafe laughs when he realizes what you’re talking about. “yeah you were talking all that shit, then you guys lost and you accused us of cheating.”
“‘cause you probably were,” you play along with the bit that you’re still mad, and thankfully rafe sees right through it because he laughs again. “i couldn’t stand even looking at you after that ‘cause i felt so humiliated.”
he shrugs, “don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
“shut up,” you say, kicking at his leg gently. he only smiles as his name gets called out at the front. you get up and follow rafe to the counter where he checks for both of your drinks, handing you yours, and then grabbing two straws.
rafe bites the paper open and pulls the straw out of it, then sticks it in his cup. “come on, i got something to show you,” he says with a wink, and he leads you outside quickly.
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after driving just ten minutes and damn near finishing both of your drinks in the process, rafe leads you out to stairs that lead down.
from the car already, you can see a bunch of string fairy lights that go from tree to tree. it leads down a path to walk on but on one of the sides, past the concrete shoulder of the sidewalk there’s the ocean.
it’s getting darker and the blues from the sky and water just look so perfect.
“it’s beautiful out here,” you say with furrowed brows, surprised that you’ve never seen this before. “we’re just ten minutes from campus?”
“that’s what i said,” rafe agrees with you, and you laugh as you lean into him for a moment. your gaze falls upon the few people walking in either direction down the path, most are families though. you can’t help but think of yours.
you’re hoping to plan a day where your family comes down here though. it’s been in the works. so far it’s just been facetimes when everyone’s free but seeing them would feel so nice. they would love a place like this too, you’re sure of.
rafe has bitten down on his straw but he’s looking forward around the area as the two of you walk. “i spy with my little eye . . .” he trails off, and before he continues, you erupt in a laugh. “something green.”
your smile fades when he says this. that’s the worst color he could’ve picked for this game.
“oh, i wonder,” you say, sarcasm laced through your voice as you look around, pretending to think about it. “the grass. the trees. my drink.”
“you can’t go three times,” he tells you before you guess your fourth. you continue to walk beside him, taking in the fresh air. “it was your drink.”
“who could’ve guessed?”
“can you just shut up?”
soon it’s been an hour of roaming the city, with the both of you giggling and exploring your new home some more. you’re sitting on a park bench staring at the water when you and rafe walk all the way back to where you were before.
you’ve leaned your head against his shoulder as you chew on your straw, even though you’ve already finished your drink.
“did you and enzo meet just from being roommates?” you ask him after a bit of silence, and you lay your head on him a different way to look at him a bit. or try to. all you can see is his jaw and cheek. “is that how you met lara?”
he thinks about it for a moment. “yeah that’s how we met. i didn’t even wanna have a roommate but you know . . . and enzo’s a great guy. he’s never really left my side even when i told him to go away. he met lara at some party in august or something.”
“that’s cute,” you mumble, lowering your head to position it where it was before, and you stare at the water. “they’re really cute. when i met enzo it was like i couldn’t even tell he had a girl like that. but when i met lara for the first time it all just made sense.”
“they’re each others best friends,” he confirms, and it brings a smile on your face as you pull your straw away and gaze down at it. “do you miss home?”
“like every day,” you answer honestly. “every second of every hour of every day, probably ‘til i graduate and probably ‘til i die.”
“you’re not moving back home after college?” rafe asks you, and you shrug.
“was never really in my books to go back home. after i committed to this university i just assumed i’d . . . i don’t know, find a home here,” you say. “your sisters were pretty cool though.”
“you’re too old to be sarah or wheezie’s friend,” rafe says with a light scoff.
you scoff back and sit up, looking at him. “you’re friends with people like topper,” you tell him since he can’t be the one to talk. “isn’t he sarah’s age?”
“please,” rafe mutters as he averts his gaze elsewhere, “he was always just trying to get in my good graces ‘cause he likes her. or loves her. whatever.”
“they’re dating now, no?”
“before,” he says. “think she’s with that pogue now. john b.”
“pogue,” you repeat, scrunching your nose. “you can’t use that word anymore. we aren’t back home.”
“it describes him perfectly,” he says in an ‘as a matter of fact’ tone, before murmuring under his breath, “among other things.”
“they’re just kids. leave them be,” you say, and you lay back down to lean your head on his shoulder again, getting comfortable. “i’m really glad you got accepted into the same college as me, rafe.”
these words come in just a bit above a whisper, though he hears you perfectly, and it comes to a bit of a shock for him. he looks down at you quietly, before carefully moving his arm that has been resting on top of the bench to pull you in for a hug.
“me too,” he mumbles.
you get up again and lock eyes with the boy immediately. you can see him underneath the lamp post lights perfectly, just at the right darkness but just at the right brightness.
your gaze flickers down to his lips and back up to his eyes. out of impulse, you consider what feels like the craziest decision to make in that moment and lean in, but what surprises you is rafe takes advantage of the opportunity.
his hand comes up to hold the side of your face as he pulls you in, and your lips press together. it’s not a soft kiss, it’s not a gentle kiss. it’s a desperate, hungry kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.
you’re kissing like you’ve been starved of oxygen and the other is the only one who can provide it. his lips move urgently against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. he doesn’t care about anything else in the world at this moment, just you and this kiss.
when rafe pulls his head back to see your eyes, he feels like he fucked up. he stares right at you, and your thoughts seem to be going behind his eyes. he starts to pull away, about to apologize, “fuck, sorry y/n, i didn’t—”
“just shut up,” you murmur before grabbing his collar and pulling him back in for another kiss. he moans softly when you do, his hands gripping your waist tighter. he loves the feeling of your lips against his, it’s almost unbearable.
his second kiss is just as desperate as the first, but this time he tries to slow it down a bit. he breaks the kiss to catch his breath, his forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. “y/n . . .” he begins, his voice shaky. “you have no idea long how i’ve been wanting to do that.”
“kept me waiting long enough,” you say as you stare deep into his eyes with a soft smile, and rafe shakes his head as he grabs your jaw and guides you to his lips again.
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@svnsetcrve @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @thepopcultureaddict @mounthings @mfcouture @ijustwanttoreadlols @karmasloverrr @lilithblackkk @drewsdirtyslut @rafesno1bae
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rxzennia · 3 months
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selfish atonement
– requested. 
✎𓂃 executing your duty perfectly, until it’s not so heavy anymore. less romance, a lot of lore. mandatory shoutout to @st4rrth0ughts and their bodyguard reader & oc. i really searched up oswaldo for this pls enjoy (i tried to cook but i might’ve burnt it y'all)
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ever since oswaldo’s expedition on aeragan-epharshel, you’ve become certain of one thing – he is a brilliant businessman; the epitome of a profitable business. regardless of the mostly negative emotions you felt while you undertook missions under his orders, you could at least admit that he brought unparalleled results to the ipc. 
but, well, it does not take a good man to make a good businessman.
this marks the third amber era after your departure from the marketing development department… no, your departure from the ipc as a whole. you’ve changed your name, got yourself a new appearance, and distanced yourself from oswaldo’s name.
you’ve since become a sellsword who answers only to your current client
you’ve chosen to not have your loyalty freely auctioned off to the wealthy precisely because of your history with oswaldo
aka, you’re done with the type of problems that can be solved with money, and you don’t want to be someone that can be easily bought with money, either
not in the sense that money won’t make you more likely to take a job, but in the sense that money won’t bribe you away from any ongoing duties
that’s enough about you and your standards
in any case, your history with the ipc (that you’ve manipulated a little) has been very helpful in landing you jobs
and at this point, you’ve got a nice word of mouth going on for you that you don’t need to bring up that history anymore
who would’ve thought that you’d end up in the ipc again?
this time as a temporary guard for one of the ten stonehearts
you don’t know what possessed someone like diamond to ask for you, because you’re pretty sure he knows about your previous involvement with the ipc
and also, what the fuck does the ten stonehearts need a bodyguard for?
you’d pay a million credits to bet that diamond just wanted someone to be surveillance
but hey, a client is a client, so you agree to meet the one you’re supposedly “protecting”
you walk into the room, and immediately you want to walk out. diamond is doing this on purpose, he’s gotta be, he’s got to have done a background check on you and still decided to choose violence.
you come face to face with aventurine, and you thank all the aeons out there that you’ve made the decision to wear a mask whenever you’re out. you don’t know if diamond had briefed him on you or not, but judging by how warily civil he is, it doesn’t seem so. 
just so we’re clear, you were far too green to be directly involved when oswaldo launched his sigonia-iv project. while you did tag along on these trips and treaty signings, you have no personal involvement there except standing there like a statue and watching your superiors hammer out a treaty or something. unlike in aeragan-epharshel. where you were one of the combat pilots. oh, that’s another can of worms altogether.
at least he can’t see your expression right now as you shake hands
at least he doesn't hear your erratically beating heart
you introduce yourselves, and you bow out of habit
impression points +100 (your starting score is -10000)
that’s basically how you ended up involved with the ipc again
ugh, you just can’t leave them in the past, can you?
although, in your defense, they’re everywhere, and you can’t possibly turn down a job with such luxurious pay
so, now, instead of the marketing development department, you’re in the strategic investment department. diamond is also a good businessman, but… the ten stonehearts have such a weird dynamic. they’re all tangled together with office politics, yet share one authority figure that they ultimately obey – something you haven’t bothered to think about when you were last in the ipc. and something you won’t bother thinking about, because the mere thought of corporate makes you want to dig yourself into a hole.
in any case, your constant meddling in aventurine’s daily affairs begins today. he’s quite a guarded man, and you have no idea what diamond wants you to do by putting you next to him practically 24/7, but oh well, you’re getting paid.
you settle into a routine surprisingly quickly, and he doesn’t seem to mind your presence all that much
alarmed? yes. mildly annoyed that diamond put a walking tracker on him? also yes. 
dislike your presence? kinda (not really). 
at least he knows you won’t betray him for as long as your contract is in effect
even if you answer directly to diamond, you were tasked to watch over him
which means that you will execute your assigned duty to guard him and strictly only that duty
(truly, your reputation precedes you)
but what is worrying is how swiftly you can change sides the moment your contract expires
well, a problem for tomorrow. diamond’s got you leashed for a year.
he does run a background check on you himself
not that he doesn’t trust that diamond hadn’t vetted you, he just wants to know what sort of person he is now stuck with
guess who found out your name is probably fake but can’t find your real name
because he could only trace your name so far, and anything beyond that point is blank
the discoveries will shock you!! top 10 most scary facts you didn’t know 
all he got was a full report from your first job to this one
anything about your past before your current alias is completely untraceable
not that he intends to ask anyway; you haven’t given him any reason to dig further (yet)
he keeps an eye out for you though
even if he’s not suspicious of you at the moment, that could change in the blink of an eye
aventurine is surprised at how loyal you are to him. you’re under diamond’s orders, but you’re surprisingly putting in a lot to protect him. and to look after him.
to you, it’s just your job… and a selfish, twisted sort of repentance. it’s a thought you intend to take with you to the grave.
you’re not obligated to wake him up or bring him breakfast, but you do anyway
which, he realizes that you must’ve woken up like at least two hours before him
you coordinate his schedule with his assistant so that he doesn’t make pointless trips to five different locations just to end up at the same one twice
you, quite literally, hover over him
yes, even at huge conferences, you’re tailing him like his shadow
some kinda scary dog privilege going on
but of course, you give him space whenever he requires it and keep him within your sights instead
so far so good
but you know what spooks him still? 
that you get pissed when someone makes any nasty passing remark at him
no, you are not a feral street cat that scratches anyone who wrongs you (him)
what you do is you give them a scary confrontation
or you pick them out and lodge a complaint with their superiors afterwards, if they aren’t the top dog
one time he got his hands on a report that you’re writing
aeons, you blow it out of proportion without lying 
you like to call it a suitable amount of embellishing 
then you pull a lot of emotional appealing according to the opponents' company policy
which usually results in some sort of disciplinary action that is actually pretty satisfying to see
but also
damn, you’re merciless 
and also very adept at business talk
trust +100, doubt +25
(shady mercenary for hire with far too much experience type doubt)
you’re as good of a bodyguard as aventurine can get, especially for someone he didn’t hire himself… 
he quite likes you, actually! because how many people do you think asked him something like “why do you need a bodyguard” to his face? none! you’re as entertaining as they come. 
and so he finds joy in his boring executive work by pestering you
you know that, but you put up with him
in fact, this guy is so one of a kind that you don’t even feel pestered
you sometimes even drink with him
whenever he offers, of course, because you’re not too interested in drinking
you drink moderately on the job, but c’mon, when are you not on the job
okay, maybe when he’s just chilling in his office or in the hotel and not going anywhere
then there’s competitive drinking where he tries to coax you into talking about yourself by making you down shots
and guess who’s wasted every time? not you
“mr aventurine?” you ask, nudging the unconscious man next to you. “sir? earth to mr aventurine? hello?”
his empty glass of whiskey on the table, his face slightly flushed as he snoozes away on the table… yeah, it does not look comfy at all.
you sigh, he’s giving you more work again, and you carefully hoist him from the table. 
when he comes to again, he finds himself in his own room
his head hurts so much
he notices that he hasn’t changed from his usual attire – only his coat and accessories are taken off
okay, and the top button of his shirt is undone
did you bring him back? 
as always, you don’t even bother to change him
he sighs, you’re really not very good at reading signs
because he’s done this multiple times! and he’s whined about not being changed after!
more like you did notice but you choose not to do what he wants
that’s crossing a line in your books
and your books is something you stick to like you’re obsessed
at least you left him water and hangover medicine on the nightstand
why does he feel like you’re deliberately keeping him at arm’s length?
it’s been a while and you two have spent so much time together, yet you’re still a stranger to him
not even acquaintances 
like… like, you don’t initiate conversation when you’re watching him
both when he’s going somewhere (requires actual protecting) and chilling at home (does not require actual protecting)
and even after so many late night drinking sessions, he still hasn’t seen you without your mask
mainly because you’ve never been drunk enough for him to sneak a peek, but still
aventurine doesn’t know how to express affection. platonically, romantically, in general, pretty much. so he tries to do the one thing he does best, splurging. and he tries to splurge on you, because he’s intrigued and wants to make buy a friend, but…
but you don’t let him splurge on you! you don’t even let him give you gifts! he only knows how to win affection by spending money on others! 
sometimes he feels like you stick too strictly to your duties
just like his other subordinates… you take orders far too well
he’s tried to give you trinkets, designer clothes, even limited snacks
all of which were returned to him within 24 hours
though, with the snacks, you take it if he offers you a piece or two when he’s already opened it
and you let him treat you to coffee occasionally. very occasionally.
he eventually figures out that it’s a matter of principles
but what principles, exactly? you’re a sellsword, for aeon’s sake
he thought those are the people who have absolutely no principles???
anyway, won’t stop him from trying
“mr aventurine…” you pinch the bridge of your nose as you see the bags stacked on your desk. “i remember telling you that souvenirs are unnecessary.”
“what’s wrong with them?” aventurine laments dramatically. “i’ve picked out only the finest for you!”
you don’t deserve it, you think, but you don’t say that, of course
you don’t even know of his lifelong grudge towards oswaldo
you just know that you had a hand in the extinction event
not like hand hand, but you watched it happen… it doesn’t sit well with you
besides, you have the blood of almost an entire civilization on your hands
if you think too hard about it, the image of flames and carnage overlap with what is in front of you
then, you envision the records of sigonia that you’ve read through in the past
and everything blurs together, your actions, your inaction, and your unwavering loyalty that led you to not raise a single question at all
you squeeze your eyes shut tightly and purge the images from your mind
you are currently here, in the present
“i can’t take them.” you reply, finally, shaking your head. “it’s inappropriate for our standing. especially since there’s no reason for you to be gifting me so many things out of nowhere.”
“what, i can’t be nice to my bodyguard?” aventurine pouts as he sorts the bags in height order. “i’ve got a limited edition tie, an antique phonograph, a discontinued mug, some rare natural color ink for your fountain pen, a pure cashmere sweater–”
“that’s… that’s enough, sir.” you raise a hand to cut him off. “i don’t think i can accept any of them, really.”
aventurine makes a face, then pulls out a bag from the end of the queue. “fine, fine. what about this, at least? assorted cookies from an artisan bakery, using only the best ingredients sourced from all over the cosmos?”
you stare at that bag as you feel the expectant stare from your boss
maybe… maybe one out of these dozens of bags is fine
you’ve gotta think about his feelings too, after you’ve rejected so many gifts
you reluctantly, carefully take the bag and say a small “thank you”
you don’t want his fascination with you to develop any more than what he’s already showing…
but you also know that it’s not up to you
so what is up to you is drawing a line that you won’t allow him to cross
for his sake, and for your own… 
if he keeps pushing, you should keep pushing back
keyword should
but can you?
aeons, you truly are selfish
wouldn’t it have been better to keep everything professional from the very beginning?
it’s okay. you only have a little more than half a year to go before you’re no longer obligated to be here. you’ll run away before aventurine catches on, like how you ran away from your past.
it’s okay. it’s just been a few months, there’s still more than half a year’s worth of time. before you part ways, there are still chances to get to know you better. perhaps even time to become friends, in the most literal sense of the word.
and maybe by the end of it, “you” will reach a satisfactory conclusion.
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punkpandapatrixk · 3 months
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🎡Cosmic Messages for Workers of Light ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card
Those of you who’ve always had a feeling that you were born to do something important; those of you who’ve recently been feeling like you’re being called to something higher than the mundane; YO, this reading has appeared in your Reality now to signal that the lights are green~🥝🥦🥑
Many people have been on different timelines that are now converging as one singular trajectory of where Humanity is heading. It’s a little bit more convoluted than that tho, because we each experience this Game a whole lot differently, too. But essentially, we’re wrapping up karmic cycles and entering a Golden Age of Workers of Light~★
Technically speaking, the essence…the theme…of the New Age of Aquarius is accountability. This is an era of accountability, folks. People can no longer be supported by any kind of cosmic power to perpetuate deceit and the misuse of knowledge.
‘But when knowledge is abused or put to the servility of coining wealth for a few, without respect of the treasury which all inherit, then humanity departs from the machine and all is toil without profit. For the false-hearted who would tear knowledge apart, diminishing the light and shielding its beams from us, will make mechanicals of us all.’ – excerpt from Manifesto of The Guild of Artificers; The Steampunk Tarot
What’s your current timeline? Which trajectory of the future of Humanity are you on? This reading serves as a prelude to what’s going to be revealed more in-depth in the ‘Lion’s Gate Portal to XXX’ PAC~💋
INTELLIGENCE: Mission Mind Control (1979) on Nuclear Vault
TECHNOMAGY: Probability Alteration and Luck (Energetically Programmed Audio) by Sapien Medicine
deck-bottom: XXI The World Rx, Silver Geographer (Francis Drake) & Priestess of Shine
[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – You’re Going to Change the World by Making It Innocent Again
ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 585, 627, 657, 757, 818, 828
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the meaning of NOW – 6 of Pentacles Rx
Have you ever had glimpses of imagination, or a sense of knowing, or it’s just a feeling, like you were dropped to Earth by mistake? Perhaps it’s a feeling as if you were a Greek god banished from the realms of the gods and entered Earth as a form of punishment? Or a bit of a feeling like you got scammed and arrived on the wrong Planet? LMAO Why am I thinking of that Bollywood movie called ‘PK’?
The alien kid arrived on a strange Planet: Earth. And Humanity—Indian primarily—befuddles the living shit out of him XD I think you’ve known for quite a while that you’re not from around here. You’ve never really fit in. I think you weren’t treated nicely by most people—could be your own blood ‘family’, could be your schoolmates, teachers, neighbours. Just basically, you’re seen as a bit of a freak.
It’s hard for you to feel a sense of community. No matter what stage of Life you are in, it’s always felt like that. If at the moment of reading this you’re older in age, I think you’re managing a lot better now. You’ve learnt to be OK with your own company because you’re the most smartest and interesting person you could have conversations with. But if you’re comparatively younger, you’re probably still going through the motion, and that’s OK, because it’s just part of the lore building ;P
bridging the future – King of Wands
The simplest truth about your existence is that you aren’t meant to ‘grow up’ in the same sense as most other people do. Growing up is a wonderful thing, of course, we all need to grow up and become smarter and amazinger! But what doesn’t sit right with you is people’s twisted idea of ‘growing up’ is all about. To most lame-ass Humans on this Planet, ‘growing up’ means abandoning the core essence of what makes you, you.
On this Planet, ‘growing up’ means letting go of your innocence and simple kindness in exchange for survival and brutality (in the workplace, I guess). Here on this Planet, ‘growing up’ means burning your passion to ashes; not living Life fuelled by a burning passion. Here, ‘growing up’ means being punished for authenticity and the childlike courage to question authority. Growing up, here, means becoming complicit to evil abuse of power and greed.
How are you supposed to comply to any of that? Don’t you realise how pure your Heart is? Your sense of justice is clear since day one. It’s something you may not be able to express clearly but you know what’s right and wrong on the basis of what’s good and bad for people as….just people…not numbers or statistics or traffic or casualties. ‘People are PEOPLE, dammit!’
you’re going to MAKE IT – 3 of Cups Rx
You’re befuddled? This world is befuddled! If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, you have it written in your Soul’s blueprint that you’re going to be involved in the politics of the world. Yes, some of you could become politicians or activists, but even those that aren’t interested in any of that, you’re still going to have opinions and perspectives that touch on the subject of Humanity and how psychopath politicians are fucking things up for Humans.
You know what I mean? Some of you could become world players that implement new laws and principles in your society. Some of you will have the power to influence public opinions so that people begin to demand accountability from their corrupt governments. Back to basics, baby. What is Humanity, basically? What does it mean to even be Human living in a Human World, basically? You’ve questioned all of this and you will one day have a platform to extend this musing to a larger audience.
The lights are GREEN now. You’ve experienced so much personal conflict with people who don’t understand your values, all so you would learn to forge connections with people who are just as innocently passionate as you are. That was your training ground, bitch~♥︎ Your personal experiences were a microcosm model of what’s going to sweep out the entire world in the coming decades, if not centuries.
Basically, it's time nations started actually taking care of their own issues before they raid and destroy other nations for resources is what your Soul is understanding.
TIMELINE🔻💛
daydreaming – Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)
engaging in Reality – Priestess of Innocence
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Pile 2 – You’re Not Confused; This World Is; So You’re Alright
ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 111, 123, 222, 414, 444, 647
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the meaning of NOW – 9 of Cups
Head in the clouds, baby? You’re the type of person who has many dreams and ideas, and it’s like, it’s easy for you to get interested in all kinds of pursuits. But then, it’s also just as easy to lose interest in all of those novelties; it feels like your heart and mind are always being pulled by newer interests or topics. I’m reminded of this meme or whisper that says something like, ‘Not tonight babe. A YouTuber has just posted a 4-hour video about a topic I’ve never heard about before.’
You like to study new things or basically just drown yourself in new hobbies/interests because you’re trying to make sense out of your very existence. I think you’ve felt incredibly confused your entire Life. If not ‘confused’ per se, it still feels like you’re lacking a sense of direction. You don’t really know what’s the purpose of being here on this Planet. You’re weirded out by the fact that you’re not motivated by the same things that others have convinced you to get excited about.
‘Why am I not motivated by these promises and achievements? Damn, I simply can’t be motivated by something as unromantic as that. There’s no Life in any of those pursuits. My God, what should I be interested in for me to motivate myself to make something out of myself? I really don’t know what to pursue in this world. I don’t even know how to live…’ So you continue to daydream but your heart is quite heavy sometimes.
bridging the future – Ace of Cups Rx
Pile 2, you are magic, you know that? Being the way that you are, you aren’t in the wrong for being rather ‘impractical’. If anything, you’re so high-vibrational that you still remember that physical manifestation comes from the dream world first. I think you’d resonate with being a very Feminine person, aenergetically speaking? Maybe you have a strong Moon/Neptune placement in your birth chart as well.
You remember on a Soul level that all dreams can become real as long as you keep on to them. Your being a dreamer who dreams ‘too much’ is not wrong; it is this world that’s too rigid and restrictive. It’s grotesque how society has set up so many rules that limit what a being as divine as you can and can’t do/create. They say the sky’s the limit; in your case, your faith’s the limit.
There are many wonderful things that you want to make manifest but you often tell yourself that you’re dreaming too much or that there’s no way someone like you could ever achieve that. That’s where you’re doing ‘wrong’: the not believing in your own ability to create your dream Life. Remember that successful people usually say that the Life they have now exceeds even their ‘wildest’ dreams.
So dream wild. Dream big. Even if you don’t believe you can exceed your expectations, can’t you still believe that you’ll manifest something very similar?
you’re going to MAKE IT – 9 of Wands Rx
Stop stopping yourself, OK? Stop gaslighting yourself for fuck’s saké. Right now, you need to stop believing that Life’s supposed to be hard work and lived logically. You literally deserve to get paid for just existing. That sounds extra narcissistic but hope you get the idea. This modern society that favours hard work and believes that only after you’ve worked really hard can you then be worthy of a lot of abundance is stupid. This world is confused. People have forgotten the essence of dreaming and living in ease.
Some of you will resonate with being a fairy or an elven soul, and so you believe from the depths of your heart that people should be allowed an easy existence in harmony with nature. Some of you will resonate with being a futuristic alien android being who believes that human lives can be made easy with the right use of technology.
All in all, cosmically speaking, your Soul came into this world to be a ‘lazy’ genius who will switch things up for Humanity so that everybody can have an easier time existing on this Planet. Geniuses are never lazy, bitch. Not in the mind! If wanting things to be more streamlined and easy to do makes a person ‘lazy’ that’s hilarious. So what’s a not-lazy person? A low-IQ idiot who perpetually works hard because they got scammed by capitalism?
TIMELINE🔻💙
daydreaming – Green Magus (John Dee)
engaging in Reality – Priestess of Ambition
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Pile 3 – Illuminate Others’ Paths by Simply Expressing Your Truth
ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 211, 217, 303, 522, 814, 999
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the meaning of NOW – 3 of Swords Rx
Do you know that you’re an energy worker? I almost feel you’re a miracle worker. You’re somebody who has a special power in the way that you express yourself, whether in writing or spoken. It’s not so much what you say or write or do, it’s HOW you say or do or write your truth that moves people’s hearts. You have the power to stir some shit up in people’s aenergetic fields LOL
You have both the power to destroy your enemies and heal those who want to get better in the world. If your power is speech, it’s the aenergy with which you talk that empowers people. Ionno, think JFK, MLK? Or some fascinating YouTubers who make us feel like, ‘Oh this guy/gal is my spirit animal!!!’ It’s their aenergy, right? Same with writing or any other thing that you do. It comes natural to you to create some kind of a ripple in people’s consciousness.
For other people, just tuning in your aenergetic space stirs them. That’s why you experience a lot of extremes. Good-hearted people feel immensely healed, comforted and uplifted in your presence or when they talk/text with you. But the false-hearted ones, they also know there’s something about you that calls out their bullshit even when you’re not ‘saying’ anything. There’s something about you that inspires people to be better! And that’s fucking annoying to narcs and the losers of the world LMAO
bridging the future – 10 of Pentacles Rx
I see that you’re honestly not the kinda person who’s ambitious about changing the world, about influencing the world. Not in that ambitious manner like some activist or whatever. Your Soul is very incredibly superbly soft; you ain’t an activist, you’re an artist; you ain’t a fighter, you a lover, baby~ So I get that you sometimes don’t really know what to do with yourself XD Like there’s this desire to heal the world, but you don’t think of yourself as someone who’s fighter enough or strong enough to do any of that.
WRONG. You’re the kinda entity who’s already doing all that healing stuff by simply being the amazing person that you are. Your aenergy is like a combination of both Pile 1 and 2. The half of you is superbly soft and dreamy and you’re so kind and empathetic; the other half of you is fiercely protective of those who are hurting, and you do a lot to make things better and easier for them—in your own practical, seemingly small ways.
The good news is, you really don’t have to be a fighter if it doesn’t suit you. Basically, you just have to be yourself and express your truth. In whatever way you find most suitable to you. Your power lies in your communication, self-expression, connection. You’re going to be a trend-setter, babe~ A trend-setter of authenticity, yup, ‘real authenticity’, ironically; not ‘fake authentic’ that’s propagated by a lot of narcs on the Internet LOL
you’re going to MAKE IT – 3 of Pentacles
With narcs who are pretending so HARD at being good, you know it’s all skin-deep; it’s all just jargon. And they’re gonna get really good at weaponizing self-love concepts to justify shit behaviour, deadbeat behaviour, toxic tendencies, gaslighting atrocities and all that shit, you know? With you, your VIBRATIONS can’t be faked, let alone emulated. The world needs a role model like you. That’s why you’re going to make it. Your Soul Mission ain’t just about you, babe~
You’re literally going to be the example whom people bear witness for what being authentic is all about. They will watch you and come to their own conclusion what a genuine soul looks like. You’re reminding me of Dr Jordan B Peterson. Yep, that kinda vibe. Be weird all you want, be scandalous all you want, the right people will see that your INTENT has been good all along. And in that sense, the people who CHOOSE to view you badly are the CLOWNS, and they’re gonna be proving that to themselves.
In essence, most people’s idols are all LIARS!!! You’re meant to break that, destroy that, and usher in a new era of influencers/celebs/thought leaders/spiritual teachers/all kinds of public figures that actually operate on Light—real information and real intent—instead of fake-ass jargon that lies to people’s faces with semantics and optics! Your aenergy is insane it’s literally gonna change the world massively, and upon finding this reading, you’re riding on the winds of CHANGE so get fucking READY, bitch~! \`★_★`/
TIMELINE🔻🧡
daydreaming – Green Astronomer (Nicolaus Copernicus)
engaging in Reality – Priestess of Illumination
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prettyboykatsuki · 10 days
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call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.
✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)
✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.
anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.
✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.
you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.
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Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  
And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  
It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  
He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 
His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  
It's not because you don't like him, alright? 
You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 
( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  
You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  
 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  
You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 
"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  
"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  
He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  
“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 
In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  
Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 
Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  
 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  
Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 
You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  
"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  
He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  
"Why?"   
"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  
Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  
"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  
He hums. "So you hit her?" 
You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  
You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  
"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  
“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  
The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 
He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  
You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 
Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  
"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  
You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 
You still give him your name. 
"What a pretty name," 
When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  
And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  
That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 
You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 
Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  
But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  
It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  
Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 
It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  
You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 
You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  
So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  
You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  
Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  
He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  
Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  
You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  
When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  
In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  
For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  
That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  
To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  
He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 
(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  
It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  
"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  
Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  
"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  
He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  
Weird.  
"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  
He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  
"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  
You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  
He blinks, surprised.  
"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  
"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  
His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  
You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  
He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  
You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  
"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  
You stare at him in disbelief.  
"Wha—huh?"  
He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  
"I like you."  
"No the hell you don't."  
He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  
"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 
"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  
Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  
You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  
But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 
You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  
"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 
 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  
And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 
What the fuck was that?)  
For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  
The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  
Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  
Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  
Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  
Except. Except.  
Umemiya just won't give up.  
He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  
He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  
You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  
But honestly? 
You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  
But you're not going to to let him sway you.  
You've got principles, after all.  
__  
After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  
It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  
Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  
You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  
Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 
"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  
"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 
"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  
"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  
The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  
“Such a blatant lie.”  
Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  
Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  
"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  
"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  
"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  
You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 
"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  
You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  
Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  
"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  
You sigh deeply. 
"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 
"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  
You elbow Kotoha lightly.  
"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  
You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  
Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 
__  
You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  
Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  
Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  
(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  
After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  
You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  
Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  
You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  
Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 
The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  
The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  
Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  
"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 
You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  
"Go die."  
"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  
"Shut up. I'll kill you."  
As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  
"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  
He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  
"What the hell are you two talking about?" 
'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 
"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 
"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  
"What's happening at work?" 
Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  
"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  
Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  
A good question you hadn't considered asking.  
You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  
"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  
You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  
"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  
"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  
You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  
Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  
"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  
You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  
Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 
You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  
"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  
Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  
You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 
Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  
You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  
"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  
"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  
He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  
You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  
The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  
You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  
__  
For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  
No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 
But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  
It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  
He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  
It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  
At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  
You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  
"Oi. What's up with you?"  
"Hm?"  
You cross your arms over your chest.  
"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  
He stares at you.  
"You noticed?"  
"How could I not notice?"  
"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  
"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  
He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  
He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 
"Do you know that I like you?"  
Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  
This is what he wants to talk about? 
He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  
"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 
Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  
"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 
"But do you get it?"  
Your frown deepens.  
"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  
He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  
Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  
"...Never said that." 
He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 
You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  
One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  
Damn it.  
"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya frowns at you.  
"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  
You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  
After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  
"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  
He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  
"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 
"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  
He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 
"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  
You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  
"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  
A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  
You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 
You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 
"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  
He pauses before frowning.   
"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  
You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 
The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  
"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  
He looks like he's in shock. 
"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  
You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 
Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  
"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  
"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  
"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  
You aren’t sure how to answer him.  
"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  
It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  
"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  
"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 
You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  
He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  
"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  
"What about him?"  
"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  
Your eyes go wide.  
"I—it wasn't serious."  
"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  
You feel frozen in place by his admission. 
Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  
His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  
Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  
"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 
You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  
"Why me? And why now?"  
Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 
"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  
Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  
"Stop saying stuff like that."  
Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  
"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  
"I love you." He repeats.  
You squirm.  
"Stop it,"  
"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 
Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  
"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  
"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  
"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 
His drops down to a whisper.  
“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  
You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 
"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  
You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  
A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  
"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  
He laughs wetly.  
"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  
He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  
"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  
Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  
He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  
You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  
He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  
It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 
He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  
There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   
"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 
You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 
"Yeah."  
__ 
You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  
His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  
You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   
"I love you,"  
You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  
"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  
You pause.  
"...Sleep?" 
"Hm?"  
You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  
"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  
"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  
"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  
"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  
You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  
"Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  
"Stop staring."  
He doesn't.  
"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  
"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  
He smiles in satisfaction.  
"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  
You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  
"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  
He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  
"Don't say it." You hiss.  
"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  
You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  
He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  
"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  
You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  
"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  
You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  
"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  
He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  
"Yes, ma'am."  
__ 
Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  
You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  
Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  
But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  
He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  
Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  
You shiver.  
"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  
You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  
He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  
You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  
He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  
"The hell?"  
"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  
"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  
Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  
It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  
He smiles at you when you pull away.  
"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  
Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  
He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  
"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  
He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  
"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  
“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  
"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   
He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  
"What do you want then?"  
"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  
You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  
He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  
You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  
You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  
"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  
You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  
He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  
He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  
You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 
More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  
"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  
"You're making me feel good." He hums.  
Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 
"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  
You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  
The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  
You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  
"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  
"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  
You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  
He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  
"I'm just..."  
He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  
Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  
He smiles.  
"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  
You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  
Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  
"You're so beautiful to me."  
He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  
He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 
"Don't hold your voice, please?"  
"It's embarrassing,"  
"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  
You frown but nod ultimately.  
Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  
This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  
No one's ever touched you like this, though.  
His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  
"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  
The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  
You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  
"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  
He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  
Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  
(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  
Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  
But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  
Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  
"Fuck."  
He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  
"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  
He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  
And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  
Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  
"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  
"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  
"It's enough already," 
He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  
You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  
He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  
There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  
He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  
Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  
The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  
"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  
You cover your face with your arm.  
"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  
"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  
He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  
There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  
Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   
You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 
An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  
A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  
Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  
Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  
Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  
By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  
"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  
"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  
He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  
You pause. Umemiya waits.  
"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  
"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  
"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  
"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 
The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  
"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  
He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  
"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  
"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 
He smiles. "As you wish,"  
Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  
You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  
"Stop looking so much,"  
He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  
Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  
You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 
You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  
Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 
"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  
He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  
You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  
It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  
"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  
Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  
You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  
He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  
You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  
He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  
Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  
"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  
You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  
He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  
He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  
"Take 'em off. Please?"  
Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  
"Your dick is so big,"  
He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  
"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  
He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  
"You gonna fuck me?"  
"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  
"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   
"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  
You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  
His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  
You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 
Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  
"Why are you—mmgh," 
He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  
"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  
Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  
“Hajime—“ 
He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  
“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  
Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  
“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  
His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  
“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 
Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  
“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  
Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  
A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  
You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  
He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  
“Too much?”  
Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  
“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  
He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  
“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  
He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  
You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  
“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 
“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  
“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  
“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  
You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  
“Did you want something else? Water?”  
“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 
He pulls back to look at you seriously.  
“Do you know what you’re asking?”  
You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  
“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  
You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  
“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  
He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 
“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  
He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  
You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  
You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  
Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  
“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  
Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  
His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  
“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  
“Different?”  
“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  
You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  
“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  
You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  
“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  
You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  
“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  
You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 
He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 
As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  
Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   
“Yeah?”  
You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 
When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  
“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 
“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  
You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  
Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  
“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  
You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  
Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  
He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  
“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  
He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  
A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 
“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  
Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  
Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  
You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  
“You gonna cum soon?”  
“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  
“’s okay to cum in me,”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  
You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  
You don’t really hate it, though.  
“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  
“Love you too,”  
__ 
The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  
You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  
Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  
“No fucking way,”  
You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  
You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  
Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 
Fuck.  
“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  
Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  
You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  
Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  
“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  
“In your dreams.”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  
He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 
“Good morning,”  
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  
“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  
You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  
You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  
“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  
You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  
With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  
“She left already?”  
“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   
Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  
“You already said that.”  
“You didn’t say it back,”  
You frown. “G’morning,”  
He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  
“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  
“You’re stupid.”  
“And you love me,”  
You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.
“I guess so.”  
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months
Text
Big Brother
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you (5 or 6) get sick, and the boys get a bit overprotective
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“Sammy.” Sam grunted as you latched your tiny fingers in his hair for stability as you settled yourself on his lap. “Sammy come play with me!”
“I can’t, honey,” Sam said, picking you up and carrying you back to the table he’d set you at only a few minutes ago. “I’ve got research to do, you’ve gotta play by yourself.”
“No!” Your outburst shocked him; you were usually pretty obedient. “No, come play with me now!”
“Hey!” Dean spoke up from his spot next to Sam. “Cool it with the attitude.”
“No!” Your voice was higher pitched and whiny now, and Sam didn’t miss the quiver in your lips.
“Hey, I said—“
“Dean wait,” Sam interrupted his brother. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
You never got upset this easily, so Sam figured there had to be a reason behind it.
“I want you to play with me!” Those were definitely not crocodile tears snaking their way down your cheeks, and Sam couldn’t resist picking you up. “I wanna stay like this,” you whimpered, leaning heavily against him.
“Well you can’t always get what you want,” Dean argued, but Sam shushed him again.
“Like this? You wanna just relax with me?” Sam asked, noting just how much you were melting into his arms.
“Yeah,” you sniffled.
“Sam, would you stop coddling her?” Dean huffed. He knew he was no better sometimes, but he did his best not to give into your tantrums—he knew it wouldn’t help you later.
“I’m not coddling her Dean,” Sam huffed. “I’m trying to figure out why she’s acting like this.” Sam turned his focus back on you. “Are you tired, N/N?”
You wouldn’t answer, you just leaned your forehead against the side of his neck. Sam frowned, pulling away suddenly despite your whiny protests.
“Hey, you’re really warm.” Sam reached a hand up and pressed the back of it against your forehead. “Jeesh you’re burning up.”
This got Dean’s attention. He finally looked up from his lore book, distress written in the lines on his face.
“She’s sick?”
“I think so.” Sam set you down on his bed, laying you back against his pillows. “Do you feel sick, kiddo?”
“My tummy hurts,” you said after a minute, rubbing your eyes. “I wanna lay down with you.”
“Here, I’ll take her,” Dean spoke up, taking three strides to you and lifting you in his arms. “Sam, could you get me the thermometer from the first aid kit? She’s really burning up.”
Sam retrieved the thermometer quickly, and Dean waited impatiently for the results—
“102,” Dean huffed.
“What?” Sam grabbed the thermometer from his brother as if he could make it say something different. “She’s never had a fever that high, has she?”
“Not even close,” Dean replied with a frown.
“De, I’m cold.” You sniffled. “I want my blanket.”
“Sorry kid,” Dean said. “We gotta get your temperature down—okay, easy,” Dean soothed when you started to whine. “You’re gonna be ok, alright? Just settle down, I got you.” Dean sat down on his bed, shifting you in his arms so you were laying down. “Why don’t you try to sleep, ok?”
“I can’t.” You squirmed in Dean’s arms. “I can’t, I’m cold!”
“Hey, ok, ok.” Dean sighed. “Just…here.” Dean looked up at Sam and pointed to your water bottle. Sam handed it to Dean, who held it up for you.
“If you finish this first, then you can take a nap with your blanket, ok?”
You rubbed the tears off your cheeks and held both hands out for the water bottle. Dean’s lips quirked up as he gave it to you and watched you down the whole thing.
“Alright.” Dean laid you back down on his bed and grabbed your blanket, glad that it wasn’t too thick. He wanted to break your fever, but he’d have to work with you if he wanted you to rest, so he was picking his battles.
You gripped the blanket tightly in your little fists, and within minutes you were asleep. Once you were breathing slow and easy, Dean reached over and adjusted the blanket so that you could still hold onto it, but it wasn’t covering you.
“You think she’ll be ok?” The way Sam was watching you—it was the way that Dean knew he himself had watched Sam; like he was scared for you, like he’d die for you, like he’d kill for you—it both touched and scared Dean. He wasn’t used to Sam being the protective, big brother sort—that was always Dean’s job.
“We just gotta wait for the fever to break,” Dean said with more certainty than he was feeling. “She’ll be just fine.”
You woke up in a fit of coughing, and Dean could tell by the way your whole body was lurching that whatever you’d eaten today wouldn’t stay down for long. He snatched you up and barely made it to the tiny motel bathroom in time.
Sam followed him at a run, and he knelt next to you on the floor, holding your hair back while Dean rubbed your back, whispering—“it’s ok, you’re ok,” to soothe you the whole time.
By the time your stomach was empty, you were shaking with sobs. Dean snatched up some toilet paper and wiped your mouth off, before lifting you again into his arms and cradling you against his chest.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. “You’re alright now, it’s over.”
“I hurt,” you sobbed.
“Where does it hurt, honey?” Sam asked quietly, gently brushing your hair away from your sweaty face.
“Everywhere.” Your voice was muffled against Dean’s shoulder as you gripped onto his shirt.
“Let’s go back to sleep, yeah?” Dean suggested, already carrying you to his bed.
“No!” You insisted. “I wanna go in Baby.”
“I think you should take a nap,” Dean argued, but you persisted—
“Please, De! I wanna go in Baby.” You pulled back just enough to blink your big bright eyes at Dean, and he was a goner.
“Ok, ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s go for a drive.”
Sam had you curled up in his lap while Dean started Baby up.
“Feeling any better?” Dean asked you as he pulled out onto the open road. You just huddled closer to Sam and shook your head. Sam ran his hand over your forehead.
“She’s still really hot,” Sam sighed.
Dean didn’t respond, he just kept going down the road until the soft music and the purr of Baby put you to sleep.
“It hasn’t gone down at all.” Sam glanced from Dean down to you in his lap. “She’s never been this sick before, it could just get worse and—“
“Hey, hey now,” Dean interrupted. “Cut it out with the worst case scenario stuff, ok? You’re gonna make me lose my mind.” Dean’s fingers were shaking on the wheel, and when Sam saw it he got even more nervous.
“You’re scared,” Sam said.
“What?” Dean tried to scoff it off, but Sam just stared at him. “Yes, ok? Of course I’m scared, but she’s gonna be fine. She is.”
“How do you know?” Sam demanded.
“Because she’s strong. Just because she’s a little kid doesn’t mean she isn’t strong. She’s gonna fight this off.”
The boys lapsed into silence for several miles.
“Dean?” Your little body stretched as you blinked open your eyes and reached out for Dean.
“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said, taking one hand off the wheel to grab onto your tiny reaching fingers. “I’m right here.”
“I’m hungry, De.” You yawned.
“Hungry?” Dean glanced at you. “Are you feeling better?” You never wanted to eat when you were sick.
“Mmm.” You pulled your hands back, and Dean had to hold back a laugh when he saw you lifting your little hands to your arms, your stomach, and your face, as if trying to see if something was missing. “I feel a little better,” you concluded.
Sam lifted his own hand to your forehead, and nodded at Dean with a little smile.
“It’s gone down a lot, I think.”
“Ok.” Dean couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he ruffled your hair. “Then dinner it is.”
Dean decided to bring the food back to the motel so you could rest more. Once you were yet again settled down in his bed, he began pulling out bags of fast food and passing them around.
“I wanna watch Scooby Doo,” you blurted out, reaching out and tugging on Sam’s arm.
“What’s that got to do with me?” He asked, pulling his arm back so he could take the food Dean was offering him.
“I want you to watch with me!” You demanded. “Please, Sammy?”
“Alright, alright.” Sam climbed onto the bed, grunting when you jumped on top of him and got comfortable. “You’d better not get me sick,” he commanded, to which you just giggled in response. Dean noticed, however, that despite Sam’s grumblings of getting sick, he still let you curl up on his chest, and he even wrapped his arms around you as the two of you watched the tv together.
Dean settled himself on the other bed, for once more engrossed in his siblings than his favorite cartoon. Sam normally sit back and let Dean be the authority figure—the “big brother”— with you, even though he acted like your big brother sometimes. But today was different; Sam had been so scared for you, and Dean knew the feeling well—he’d felt it throughout Sam’s childhood, and yours too.
But now that the fear was passing, Dean got to watch with his heart full as his little brother held onto his little sister and just spent time with her—it had been so long since Dean had seen Sam laugh, but now here he was laughing with you, and Dean didn’t think there was a better sight in the world than the two people that meant the most to him in this world having the time of their lives.
Sam noticed Dean’s staring, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he grinned at his big brother and mouthed to him, “she’s ok.”
Dean wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sam happier.
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fastlikealambo · 10 months
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Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader
Chapter One
table of contents.
Chapter One.
Chapter Two.
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.
Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This might not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.
Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.
This is a quick sample chapter to test the waters and see what people think! If you’d like to see more, please comment, reblog, or like!
The streets of The Capitol looked different during the day. 
You were used to the shadows, two feet in the dark at all times kept you secret, kept you safe, hiding was not cowardly, it was instinctual.
But you weren’t hiding now, a coward in high heels and stockings dark enough to hide the  purpling bruises that kissed the back of your legs, a high collar dress and coat the color of fresh blood concealed the rest that served as a reminder of how you got there in the first place.
Somewhere, a clock struck noon and as if on a timer of his own, Coriolanus Snow emerged from the university doors, chiseled face even more sculpted in person and  you took your place on the opposite side of the road.
You stepped off the curb, turning your face ever so slightly towards a camera and a tucked curl behind your ear signaled the car Gaul had waiting to come barreling around the corner and down the street.
A few capitol citizens jumped back onto the sidewalk but not you, you had your nose in a book, seemingly oblivious to the car that would surely end your miserable little life if this plan did not work.
You did not know Coriolanus Snow, but you did know men. 
Peacekeepers who’d do anything to relax after a hard day, Capitol boys who wanted to know if district lips tasted like treason or honey wine, they were all the same when the lights were off and pockets went unattended.
You tripped and dropped the books, loud enough for Snow to look up and see the car mere feet from you now as you bent down to retrieve the books,  silently cursing everything and everyone that had led you to this moment.
It occurred to you now that perhaps the madwoman in the lab had no designs on Snow that required you and this was an opportunity for her to kill someone in a fun, if not slightly convoluted, way.
You were going to die.
And then, you weren’t.
The lean body of Panem’s golden boy crashed into yours before the car did, strong arms around your middle and sent you both tumbling out of harm’s way. That pretty face of his blocked out the sun and the whole world went still, freezing the pair of you in a tableau of heaving chests and scraped hands.
Beauty made men blind and you had made a blind man of Coriolanus Snow.
And now, the games begin.
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