#i have both this and spring of birth all scanned

[elle-p]

Some nice art from the Midsummer Knights Dream pamphlet!

[hellwantfuckme]

warm it until it fades

summary: azriel makes you company while you're feeling lonely

author's note: I just wanted to write something, idc this is lazy or (and) short.

Your life was neither lonely nor sad. You had plenty of friends, all with generally lively personalities, generally fun. And you had a steady job, a stable home, something you were still getting used to having, generous income with which you even had enough to spend on books, dresses, creams, and the kind of expensive things you hadn't expected to put a finger on again.

But when you sat on the wide sofa in your apartment, you realized that even though logic, which was an important pillar in your life, claimed that you had a good life, you didn't feel that way. When you sat, with nothing else to do on a Saturday night but to read, you felt alone, and you felt sad.

And it was perhaps partly your fault.

You had a family. You had once had a family. One too complicated, one too hard. The image of the perfect family, the roses that decorated the edges of family portraits, it had drowned you. No. Rather, you had been drowned by the thorns of the roses, which had pierced your skin too deeply, which had made you bleed too much. Two very rich nobles of the Spring Court, powerful and influential, had been your parents. But your mother had lost her mind years ago, and your father struggled to stay afloat in a brutal society. And all that was your being and your power, your brightness and personality, had been subsumed thanks to your parents. What they had made of you. And you had been a rebellious teenager and had fought to keep what was yours by birth, what they were not supposed to take from you.

They still took it from your hands.

You had been friends with the High Lord of the Night Court long before you had even met the one who was now the High Lady of the Night Court, and both, at different times and situations, had offered you shelter here. If you ever felt brave enough, if you were ever in danger.

And as soon as you had the chance to escape, when you realized it was you or them, you chose yourself. And you chose your peace.

And you still preferred to be in your half-decorated, quiet and peaceful apartment, alone, than in a mansion full of screams and chaos, accompanied.

You had little else to do, other than to try to ignore the emptiness in your chest. An emptiness that ironically felt more than any emotion. A good book and a quiet afternoon usually did the trick of making you forget it. Although they never truly made you forget it, right? There was always a bitter taste in your mouth when you murmured the words you read, it was always there.

The huge balcony doors of the living room were wide open. There were no curtains covering the wonderful views or preventing a gentle fresh summer breeze, carrying the smell of sea salt and the sound of the happy streets of Velaris, from coming in. In the middle of summer, keeping them closed seemed suffocating to you.

You heard a flutter outside, getting closer and closer. You recognized it immediately, and unable to help it, the corners of your mouth curved upwards just slightly, foolishly. And your body sank deeper into the sofa as you looked away from your book, a warmth filling your chest.

You heard the clean landing of Ilyrio inside your home through the balcony. You still wondered how he did it so easily, smoothly. Every time you tried to see it happen, it happened too quickly to catch anything. You only knew that it was Azriel's favorite way to come in.

And you didn't think about closing them, in case he took that as a closed door. Although being his way of entering, it would indeed be a closed door.

You didn't look up from the book in your hands, although in reality your heart raced when you felt it rather than heard it, walk towards you. And stand right behind, powerful, looking over your shoulder at your book. He scanned the ink-written letters. His scent reached you, wrapping around you like a blanket. From now on you knew that his scent persisted when he was gone, you would pretend not to, but you loved it. As if you weren't really so alone.

"Nothing obscene this time?" Azriel asked, the gentle teasing in his tone very obvious, and you could feel him raising an eyebrow.

The last time, he caught you reading the most intense obscene work you had ever owned. And you blushed like an idiot and felt embarrassed. You wouldn't have normally, in fact, you wouldn't have minded anyone catching you reading such things. But it caught you off guard, because Azriel had read the whole chapter while standing behind you without you noticing, and it had been dirty. Very.

This time you did look at him, with a frown, and let him know that it wasn't funny.

Raising your head and stretching your neck to look at him, from your seated position.

Azriel's features softened, and you couldn't help but notice. The way the tension left him.

"So funny, Azriel," you murmured. He gave you a smirk that made you dizzy, as if to say "indeed."

He moved, walking over to sit next to you on the couch. His side of the couch. Which was already slightly sunken with his weight and the times and hours he had spent there.

He leaned in, taking the book from your hands and placing it on the coffee table. You frowned, ready to retort, when he grabbed your wrists and in a quick maneuver, placed you on his lap. Your knees on either side of his hips, and his face incredibly close to your own. His scarred hands held each of your wrists firmly, but carefully, in the same way he was careful when he touched you, incredibly aware of his scars.

Your heart pounded, and you felt the blood rush to your face very fast, intensely.

The corners of his lips curved up as his hazel eyes caught the red tint in your skin, those dangerously sensual lips that seemed to be having a lot of fun. You recognized the way his eyes sparkled and his features lit up, as always when he did one of these things. Cornering you against the kitchen counter, placing both hands on your waist to move you out of his way and keeping them there longer than would be a casual touch, leaning in to whisper something in your ear with a hand on your hip as if to keep you from moving away.

He had found out too quickly, as was to be expected considering he was the Spymaster of the Court for a reason, that the color only rose to your cheeks if he touched you, if he got too close. And you had thought that he would follow his usual pattern, because he was not exceptionally known for being very touchy.

He was more than willing to ignore the way he couldn't help thinking about how ugly his hands looked against your impeccable, smooth skin, to see that precious color in your cheeks. To see your brown eyes open in surprise.

His grip on your wrists tightened a little, to test the waters. Your heart hammered against your chest, as if it wanted to come out of its place.

His eyes made their way down, as if they could see where your heart was beating wildly.

"Nervous, troublemaker?"

If you had been in another situation, you would have rolled your eyes at the nickname. You just swallowed, and his hazel eyes followed the movement of your throat. They stopped on your tender skin for a moment, two. A longing glow appeared, and he leaned a little, just a little, as if he wanted to see how you reacted, if you moved away.

"No," you lied. Although it was damn obvious that it was.

Azriel licked his lips, his eyes met yours. He still held your wrists, still was very close. And he leaned in more.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Azriel's face was damn close to your neck. You felt his lips sweep the skin there, and your head tilted a little, giving more space.

His lips pressed against your skin, soft and warm. Just above your pulse. You let out a breath, a sigh that you didn't know you had been holding. You felt him freeze for a second, but the next kiss he gave on your neck was firmer. Following the line of your pulse.

He pulled away, leaned back. You immediately missed the warmth on your skin, you wanted to feel it again, you wanted his lips again.

But it was his gaze that you found instead. A look that held an emotion, a promise.

And you believed it. You believed that promise that was nothing more than a silent understanding between you and him. You believed that he could make the hollow in your chest disappear. Warm it until it faded.

[drferox]

My MS Diagnosis

So I’m approaching the 2 year mark since my Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and I thought I’d better document how I got here, because being the patient is a weird experience, especially for a condition that had kind of vague symptoms that needed a fair amount of work up.

My symptoms actually started in early 2020, when I was in the third trimester of pregnancy. The main symptom was mistaken for carpal tunnel syndrome - numbness in my fingers that would progress to increasingly violent pins & needles sensations, that would progress to burning if I tried to push through it. Only this sensation would extend all the way up to my shoulders at times. I stopped performing surgery, because not only was I unsatisfied with my lack of sensation to know what I was doing with my tissue handling, but the pain would get worse quickly in constrictive surgical gloves in the presence of patient warming. So I stopped performing surgery in late pregnancy and was told it would get better a few months after giving birth.

It did not.

So six months after giving birth, finding myself able to use my hands for short periods but still unable to perform surgery to my standard, I went back to complain to the doctor. I also couldn’t play video games properly, my arms would often be numb when I woke up, all the way up to my shoulder, and they were super temperature sensitive. Even hot water from washing dishes would set them off.

They sent me down a carpal tunnel work up - ultrasounds and talking to a neurologist. The short version is they did tell me I had mild carpal tunnel… on one side only.

Which did not make any damn sense considering I had symptoms on both sides all the way up to my shoulder.

The worst neurologist in the world could not explain to me why a mild problem on one wrist was affecting sensation all the way up to the opposite shoulder, and just said ‘it happens sometimes’. Now, I like to think I have a solid understanding of the basics of how a body works, and was really unsatisfied with this answer. They recommended I talk to a surgeon, since I’d already been doing a bunch of physiotherapy, but I decided not to. Surgery could have put my hand in a cast for up to 6 weeks, I had a 6 month old baby to care for at home and a partner who was useless at best, and abusive at worst. I could not afford the time in a cast.

So I went to try something else, visiting an osteopath to see what they could do about my ‘mild’ carpal tunnel, and while I’m there, these headaches I’ve been getting.

She spent a good long while stretching out different muscle groups, and found that certain neck muscle stretches changed the sensations I was getting in my fingertips. So whatever was causing the hand problem was coming from somewhere in the neck, and she recommended I get a CT scan.

Went back to my doctor to get a referral for a CT scan, and explained what was going on. He thought about it for a minute, didn’t voice his concerns, and upgraded it to a neck MRI.

That MRI found a demyelinating lesion in my neck. So went back for a full Central Nervous System scan and found a couple more borderline ones.

That sent me back to a (different) neurologist, had a proper neurological exam that found a few random patches of altered skin sensation in addition to the arm weirdness I had going on. So I was probably a MS case, but not particularly severe as MS goes.

To confirm it I needed a lumbar puncture to look for oligoclonal bands in by CSF. The lumbar puncture was a moderately unpleasant experience which then mandated that I remain lying down for 24 hours so that my spinal fluid didn’t spring a leak. With a baby and a distinctly unhelpful partner, I barely made it to that 24 hours.

And then… I sprung a CSF leak. Which is a jolly weird experience I can tell you.

When your CSF leaks from a lumbar puncture you will feel perfectly fine… when you are lying flat on your back, because your spine flops over the hole and plugs the leak. If you’re upright at all the spine flops away from the hole and it slowly leaks out, and you get more of this weird frontal headache that gets worse the longer you’re upright, standing there talking to the ER admissions nurse. And the info I had explained that it can progress to seizures and similar the worse it gets, but I only got as far as pain and fuzzy vision. I seriously could only be upright for ten minutes without pain, and had to lie down to resolve it.

That required some medicine-that-looks-like-magic to fix, called a blood patch. Doctors took some of my blood, fresh out of the vein, and inserted it into my spine approximately where the leak should be, so that the clot would cover the leaky patch. Self blood magic. It worked brilliantly, about an hour later.

The CSF tap ordeal confirmed the presence of the oligoclonal bands, and then I got stunted into the public health system, in a department specifically geared towards managing Multiple Sclerosis patients. They debated for a little while, at a multidisciplinary meeting, whether I was really MS or a Clinically Isolated Syndrome (which is like Multiple Sclerosis but without the ‘Multiple’ part), but settled on MS. Yes, Tumblr, I was nearly diagnosed with CIS.

The shoe thing took about a year from when I actively complained to doctors, or about 18 months from the first probable symptoms. That’s approximate because some things that were thought to be pregnancy symptoms could have been due to MS, like fatigue and leg weakness. I’m pretty lucky that I’m comfortable in hospitals and with medical procedures, am reasonably medically literate. I think the magic phrase that got things to happen quickly was ‘these symptoms are greatly affecting my ability to do my job’.

I don’t think my MS has progressed since starting the medication (and I’ll talk about the medication in another post). I’ve acquired one additional brain lesion since diagnosis, but I have no clue what physical symptom it’s associated with.

While some symptoms are better, I still cannot perform surgery to the standard or with the endurance that I used to,so I basically don’t any more. I can do about ten minutes, which is enough to bail a new graduate vet out of trouble, but not enough to take over completely for them. I’ve had a few years to think about it but I don’t know what the MS is going to do to my career, only that I can still practice for now.

It’s not great, but it could be a whole lot worse, and that’s how I got here.

[rubyreduji]

Spring Break — csc

summary: even during spring break you still don't take a day off with professor choi

tags: smut (minors dni!), college!au, professor!seungcheol warnings: explicit unprotected sex, age gap, daddy kink, impregnation kink, oral (f. receiving), minor overstimulation, gentle choking wc: 2.3k an: i was planning on writing this and then i got a request for it so it bumped up on my priority list lol. this may be the finale to the professor!cheol series but who knows

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

You stare up at the large house before getting the courage to walk up the porch and rap your knuckles against the door. You lick your lips as you wait, thinking about what’s to come later. A duffle bag is slung over your shoulder as you grip the straps in anticipation, silently begging for the door to open soon.

Your college is on spring break right now which means you have a week of no obligations, free to do whatever you please.

Suddenly the front door opens to reveal a man standing in the doorway, staring back at you. When you see him a small smirk spreads across your lips.

Spring break means you’re free to do whatever you please, and for you, whatever you please to do just happens to be Choi Seungcheol, your biology professor.

“Ah sweetheart, come in.” Seungcheol steps to the side to let you in. When you step into the house Seungcheol takes your bag from you before closing the door and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Unlike his normal attire he wears when teaching, he’s in just a sweater and a pair of slacks. You internally grin at how even on his off days he still dressed up more than most people do. 

A few weeks ago spring break was brought up between you and Seungcheol and before you knew it you had plans to spend the week at the professor’s house. In the past month or so your relationship with Seungcheol has taken a shift. You’ve been interacting with the man a lot more outside of class whether it’s texting him throughout the day or sitting in his office during his free periods. You’ve even taken to eating your lunch together if you’re both available.

In that time you’ve gotten to know the man better. You find that you enjoy spending time with the man no matter if your actions are sexual or not. You occasionally wonder if you’re flying too close to the sun but then again you don’t think you care all too much.

“So this is where the elusive Professor Choi lives?” Your eyes scan around the area. The interior resembles that of a traditional Korean house but still keeping up with modern trends. You wonder who does Seungcheol’s interior design, assuming that he doesn’t do it himself.

“Elusive,” Seungcheol snorts. “I don’t believe that I’ve been too elusive to you.”

“Oh no, not to me, to everyone else. See, I’m special.” You grin back at the older man. A look of fondness settles on his features.

“Very special.” Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand and pull you into him. His hand comes up to cup your face and he guides you into a soft kiss. The kiss is tender and romantic and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You smile into the kiss before pulling away a bit.

“You know…your house is big, yet so empty,” you say, looking around the space.

“Ah I guess so. It can be lonely at times,” Seungcheol muses.

“Would you like to fix that daddy?” You ask softly. “Fill this house with a wife and kids?” You see Seungcheol’s eyes flash at the change in your demeanor. You lean in close to whisper in his ear. “I stopped taking my birth control a week ago.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol curses under his breath. He runs his hand over your stomach lightly, before leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is different from the one a few seconds earlier. This time Seungcheol grips you tightly and presses his lips against yours fiercely. 

“C-cheol!” You gasp. Seungcheol picks you up and you wrap your arms around him as he carries you to his bedroom.

“D-daddy~” you mewl as Seungcheol runs his hands over your bare hips. His face is buried between your legs as he sucks your clit between his lips. He takes his time, flicking his tongue over the bud and relishing in the way you shudder. His hands move down to squeeze your thighs, kneading at the fat as he continues to make out with your pussy.

It’s rare for Seungcheol to eat you out because he doesn’t like to get messy before a class, but now you’re regretting not having done this before. You run your hands through his hair as he buries his face farther into your cunt. His tongue darts into your entrance and you buck your hips up, only for Seungcheol to push your hips back down onto the bed.

You’re dripping wet now as your professor eats you out. His lips and tongue work as a unit to flood your body with pleasure. 

“P-please Cheol, need more,” you beg. Seungcheol pulls his face away from you. He’s a bit out of breath and the lower of his face is slick with your arousal. He wipes his face off before looking up at you.

“Does my baby girl need me to fuck you nice and good?” All you can do is nod and Seungcheol smirks before standing up.

You’re fully naked already and expecting Seungcheol to just take his dick out of his pants like normal, but instead he starts to pull his sweater off and your breath hitches. You watch with aroused anticipation as Seungcheol strips off his clothes. More and more skin comes into view and you can’t get enough.

You’ve never seen Seungcheol completely naked before and now that you’ve gotten a taste you don’t think you’ll be able to accept anything less now. Despite his older age his body is still fit and rugged. His normal suit attire does a good job of covering up his hard muscles and tanned skin that has you nearly drooling. The whole package is tied together by Seungcheol’s large cock that hangs in the air, hard and waiting to fuck you.

“Going to put a fucking baby into you,” Seungcheol growls as he climbs onto the bed. He crawls over you so he can line his dick up to your entrance. You grab at his face and he leans down to kiss you. As your lips meld together Seungcheol takes this moment to sheath into you. You whine into the kiss but Seungcheol doesn’t allow you to pull away from him.

Your lips continue to move against each other as Seungcehol starts to move his hips into yours. The sensation of his dick sliding in and out of you elicits soft moans from you. Seungcheol finally pulls his lips away from yours only to move them onto your neck. His soft, plump lips press kisses into your fevered skin while one of his hands moves up to squeeze your tits.

You wrap your legs around the older man’s waist, holding him close to you as his cock digs into your cervix. You feel well loved as Seungcheol continues to thrust into you. His whole body works at yours, pleasuring and worshiping you.

It’s so different than when you guys fuck in Seungcheol’s office. Different in a good way. There’s no rush to get done before Seungcheol’s next class. Seungcheols’s not worried about keeping his normal composed manner. It’s also nice to be pressed against a mattress rather than his desk. 

You can’t help but feel like the mood is more romantic as well. The way Seungcheol’s hands move over your skin in gentle touches. His moves are more intentional rather than just with the purpose of getting the job done. Even the way his lips press against yours conveys more love than usual. You didn’t think you could fall for your professor even more than you already have, but here he is, proving you wrong.

You don’t mind the way that you and Seungcheol usually have sex, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt so good before. Even when Seungcheol fucks you stupid, plowing into you at rapid paces, making your mind numb, it will never feel as good as the way he’s fucking you now.

The sound of his soft grunts sends warmth coursing through your body. The drag of his cock inside of you fills your brain with a satisfactory fuzziness. Just when you don’t think things can get better Seungcheol is grabbing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest. His trusts get harder and you moan loudly as he hits at a new angle. 

“God you’re so pretty like this,” Seungcheol mutters. “So ready to be filled up with cum. Make you mommy.”

You groan at his words. Thoughts of you carrying Seungcheol’s babies flood your mind and you nearly cum right there. Seungcheol can tell too by the way your walls twitch around him and he grins.

His strong hands grab your thighs and push them up into your chest. The new angle has his cock digging right into your g-spot and you whine louder as he pounds into you even harder. You can feel your thighs start to tremble, not just from the position but also from the pleasure building up inside your body.

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol coos. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please. Please cum in me,” you beg, your voice high and whiny. “I need it. Want to be filled up, want to have your babies.” 

Seungcheol leans down and connects your lips. You kiss him fervently, drowning yourself in him, as his hips stutter in you. He groans against your lips and you feel his cum leak into your pussy. The feeling has you falling apart in his arms as well, your whole body trembling as your pussy spasms around him. Seungcheol releases your legs from the position they’re in and gently pulls out of you. 

His dick is still hard and despite still panting a bit he helps you turn over so you’re laying flat on your stomach. “Such a good girl for me,” Seungcheol mutters as he crawls over you. He slowly inserts his cock back into your entrance, thrusting softly into you. You’re still sensitive and the rub of Seungcheol’s cock inside of you has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your head falling onto the pillows.

Seungcheol’s front is flush to your back as he ruts into you. His body is warm and fits against yours perfectly. He fucks into you, pushing his cum into you even deeper. His pace is slower, more gentle. Seungcheol presses soft kisses into your shoulder as he drags a hand down your side.

“God Y/N you’re so, so perfect. The prettiest girl I know. Fuck.” Seungcheol’s groan has you whining, your insides clenching down and Seungcheol groans again.

“C-cheol~ need you. Need your cum. Need to be your good little wife. Daddy please,” you beg.

Seungcheol curses again and starts to thrust his hips faster. His hand curls around you so he can grip the base of your neck, not completely choking you but still applying pressure in the most delicious way possible. His thick cock pounds into you, filling your pussy and mind with flutters.

“Please don’t stop. Feels so good daddy, please don’t stop.” You’re babbling at this point but Seungcheol doesn’t mind, in fact it feels like he’s encouraged by your words from the way his grip on you tightens.

“Gonna fucking carry my babies. Make you so–augh fuck–so round and sexy.” It seems like Seungcheol is babbling himself. It fills you with pride knowing you can decompose the man in a way nobody else can.

It catches you off guard, but suddenly you’re gasping and spasming around Seungcheol, pleasuring flooding your body as you reach your climax. Seungcheol isn’t far behind, spilling his seed into your spent pussy as he orgasms himself.

Seungcheol lays down on the bed next to you and pulls you into his arms. You two exchange soft kisses as his hands roam your bare skin.

“Are you okay baby girl?” He whispers and you nod, already feeling sleepy. Seungcheol chuckles and pulls away from you to get up. You lay on his bed as he goes to get you water and a towel.

You bury yourself farther into his bed as you wait for him. His sheets smell like his cologne, a scent that’s come to be comforting to you. You think to yourself how you could get used to this. Laying in Seungcheol’s bed, living in his house, being his little wife. It makes you giddy to think that you’ll be with him all week, almost like a test run of being his housewife.

You can still feel Seungcheol’s cum inside of you and you grin to yourself, your head filling with thoughts of being pregnant. Seungcheol doting on you for nine months as you carry his baby inside of you. You guys starting a family together with mini you’s running around the house. It’s not the first time these fantasies have plagued your mind either. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, obsessed with the idea of becoming Seungcheol’s wife, the mother to his children.

Seungcheol walks back into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. He helps cleans you up as you drink your water. When he’s finished he leans down to kiss you again.

“You know I love you, right?” Your heart bursts. You know Seungcheol loves you, but this is the first time he’s said it out loud.

“Of course Cheol,” you cup his face in your hands, “I love you too.” You bring him into another kiss, pulling him down onto the bed with you. Your mind flashes back to your thoughts from a few minutes ago and you smile against Seungcheol’s lips. It warms your heart to know he wants the same thing as you. 

Your untaken birth control and Seungcheol’s two loads in you fill you with hope, and even if he didn’t get you pregnant this time, you guys have all week to work on it. 

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[spartanguard]

an important date

it's Friday and it's Colin's birthday....I had to do something!! Just a bit of a post-canon Captain Charming scene, inspired by this prompt: "We both meet at the bar at a birthday party but we don’t even know who’s birthday it is. I think it’s yours, you think it’s mine." 1.1k, rated T | AO3

The Rabbit Hole was…well, the Rabbit Hole—its usual divy self. It wasn’t where Killian would typically expect to find David, least of all on the prince’s birthday.

At least—he thought that’s what Emma had said? She’d all but shoved him out of the station that evening, with the direction to meet her father here for a “birthday drink”. Of the birth dates he’d memorized (and would never forget—Emma’s, Henry’s, Hope’s), he realized he was severely lacking when it came to his in-laws.

But perhaps David’s would be easier to remember, given its proximity to his own. Or, rather, when he thought his own was; the actual date was long since lost to time, realm travel, and changing calendars, and it had been centuries since he’d actually done anything to mark the date, but he remembered it being in spring. 

Really the only fond memory he had of the day was picking fresh wildflowers with his mother, the light scent filling their small house, and the sweet taste of the modest cake she’d baked. When the hyacinth began to bloom in Storybrooke, he was always taken back to that day, and generally used that milestone to mark the passing of his years—but he’d lived enough of them that he needed no extra celebration or recognition.

As it was, the first shoots of spring had only just begun to emerge, so by his math, that put David’s birthday—or whatever today was—a few weeks ahead of his own. Good to know.

He scanned the bar for his mate—squinting a bit harder than he’d like to admit in the dim light (further evidence of the passage of time, he presumed)—almost missing him at the far end of the counter, until David waved at him.

“Evening, mate,” he greeted as he slid onto the barstool next to his father-in-law. “Not your typical scene, eh?” he added, nodding towards the rest of the bar, where all manner of seedy goings-on (well, as much as ever happened in Storybrooke) were happening—things the deputy sheriff should probably be concerned with, but he was off the clock (and had no room to talk).

David shrugged. “I’ve been known to pass the occasional night here—cursed and not cursed. Having royalty around seems to keep things calm.”

“Aye, but you’ve never been here with a pirate,” he winked back, even if it had been ages since he’d anything resembling a rowdy night. The most exciting his had been lately were the times that they managed to get a teething Hope down early enough to squeeze in some intimacy, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Emma’s father.

“No,” David agreed. “But I figured I could manage for one night. To mark the occasion and all.”

“Aye; it does warrant that. My apologies for not knowing the date sooner—happy birthday, Dave.”

But instead of the customary thanks, David just tilted his head at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

Bloody hell—had he misheard Emma? “We’re here to celebrate your day of birth, are we not?”

“No; my birthday is in July—so now I kind of am offended,” David replied, though his tone was light. “Wait—did Emma not tell you?”

“She told me to meet you here for a birthday drink—I assumed that meant it was yours.”

“No, man—it’s yours.”

“Come again?” He’d never so much as commented to anyone, including Emma, the whereabouts of birth date; so how would either of them, least of all David, have known?

David explained, “Remember near the end of her pregnancy, when her magic was kind of overpowered and she was trying to release it?” How could Killian forget? He spent a whole week with blue hair, and trying to keep Pop-Tarts from flying around the house. “Apparently during that, she was trying out a bunch of easy, informational spells; there was one about revealing birthdates. Turned out mine was off by a couple of days. But yeah, she did yours, too; she never mentioned it?”

Killian was momentarily speechless. Not out of betrayal or anything—things were rather chaotic leading up to Hope’s birth, so he didn’t blame Emma for letting it slip her mind—but moreso that it had been able to be determined.

And, despite the last several years being filled with things such as True Love, marriages, and more family than he’d ever imagined having, he was still touched by the idea that anyone cared enough about him to know the date he’d entered this world (or whichever world it was)—and even more that they wanted to acknowledge it. 

“Uh, no,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I seem to recall her pregnancy brain was pretty bad then,” he quipped, hoping to lighten the moment. “So—really? Today?”

“Today,” David confirmed. Killian thought back to the wildflowers—then recalled that he grew up in a far warmer climate than Maine’s, perhaps the reason for his miscalculation.

(Also: he now understood why Emma had woken him with morning sex that day. That was never something he’d question, though—and also something he wouldn’t dare mention in present company.)

The barkeep then set two glasses of amber liquid in front of David. He slid one across the worn wood to Killian, then raised his own. “Happy birthday, Killian. To the best son-in-law—best friend—a man could ask for.”

Killian clinked his glass against David’s and quickly took a sip, hoping it might wash down the lump that had formed in his throat. Alas, it didn’t—but at least it was there with good reason. “Thank you, mate; and, uh, the feeling is mutual.” It wasn’t often words escaped him, so hopefully his father-in-law picked up on the weight of the emotion in his voice; he tried to find David’s eyes, but was overcome with an odd bashfulness he hadn’t felt since youth.

David just gave a gentle chuckle and a solid, brotherly thump on the shoulder, before attempting to down his own shot of rum—which brought on laughter of a different kind, but it broke the bit of tension. 

They shared another drink after (whiskey; far more palatable to the prince), before leaving to their respective princesses—and sharing perhaps a stronger embrace than Killian had originally intended, but it was certainly called for. 

As sweet as his memories from childhood were, it was nice to add this one to the collection of birthday remembrances—the first in so long. (And, as he eventually found, not the last—not by a long shot—in the many years to come.)

(However, he still refused, in all those celebrations, to tell David the way Emma preferred to mark the occasion.)

-----------------------------💙💙-------------------------------

[thanks for reading, and happy Captain Charming Friday! tags below cut]

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[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Fragmented AU -- The Cipher Zodiac Powers

Another thing that I was debating on to reveal, but I've decided to do so.

Proceed if you dare!!!

So, in Journal 3, Soos theorized that if they were successful in sealing/banishing/destroying Bill with the magic circle thing, they were all gonna get superpowers. A theory that Dipper didn't think was gonna happen.

Well, maybe not in Dimension 46'\.

But was made possible in Dimension 46-Delta, the version that the Fragmented AU takes place.

Perhaps due to a disturbance in the multiverse, the Cipher Ten was born with powers or would usually start to appear at around 13 years old. Whenever they use their powers, their eyes would glow a color. While they would share some specific ability, each of them have a unique power.

(I am using terms from the Superpower Wiki; one of my favs)

/////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Dipper -- Cyan -- Personal Energy

For any My Hero Academia fans, it's sorta similar to One for All in that a powerful energy generates and flows throughout Dipper's body. And I make the comparison because, in a way, Dipper reminds me of Izuku (nerdy characters, bullied, penchan for journaling, kinda talks out loud, deep idolization of their respective mentors...etc)

Mabel -- Magenta -- Imagination Manifestation

Couldn't think of any power better than this for a dreamer like Mabel. Now, granted, I was a little hesitant on giving Mabel this ability as it can easily be OP *Cough*GremmyfromBleach*Cough* coughing...However, I hopefully manage to come up with a limit. It depends on the scale of her imagination as well as her attention span and where she is.

(Note: Neither's powers manifested until the week of their 13th birthday.)

Stan -- Yellow -- Fire Generation/Manipulation

...I'm sure someone might make a connection of sorts. Also, blame @factual-fantasy for this (I love their AUs). Some back story time: as mentioned, some powers come around at birth, but for the Pines twins (both generations), theirs come later near the age of 13. So, Stan's powers manifested one day and he was surprised that the fire didn't really burn anything unless he willed it to. He wanted to show Ford, but decided to keep it a secret because...well he didn't want the bullying to get worse for both of them. It wouldn't be until later in life that Stan will show Ford, who has become aware of people with superpowers (ie, Fiddleford). Ford reacted... Well, Ford reacted in a way that Stan didn't expect and decided to not show it to him again. Interestingly enough, Ford had forgotten all about it, but Stan still remembers and refuses to let Ford see it again. He has a similar resolve to the kids due to what happened to their parents.

Ford -- Crimson -- ??? (Unknown)

As far as anyone is concerned, Ford hasn't shown signs of having any unique powers. Stan is curious, but figures that his high IQ is the power. Is that the case, or is it that he just doesn't have one? Or it just hasn't manifested yet, even into adulthood? Or maybe its because I have yet to make up my mind about what I want to give him? Who knows! lol

Soos -- Spring Green -- Stomach Storage

Only in the realm of cartoon logic would this make sense. Basically, Soos has access to a pocket dimension where he can store things via swallowing them whole and not chew it. Because if he does, it'll just go straight to his actual stomach. And while Soos is generally unbothered by it, the others took time to get used to it. And even then, it was still mildly unnerving to witness.

Wendy -- Amber -- Ice Generation/Manipulation

I originally wanted to give her something like super strength, but then I figured that it could just be a Corduroy trait. So, I gave her ice powers. There was a scrapped episode of Wendy getting weather-based powers and I am so curious as to what that would've entailed. Like, what was the story gonna be? How did she acquire that power? Would the episode reveal something about her mother?

Fiddleford -- Green -- Scanning

Whenever I get stumped on giving a character a power, I just take inspiration from their zodiac symbol. So, for Fidds, I just picked an ability called Scanning. He's like a human USB or 'data' storage of anything he sees, analyzing the data and information of anything not just technological and digital, but also biological, chemical and all that. He can also scan vitals (sort of like Baymax), which is proven to be useful when you have a friend who has a tendency to ignore his biological limitations.

(Note: I will say that both Fiddleford and Stan kept their powers a secret throughout their childhood and young adulthood, as one can imagine that once the word of their powers gets to the wrong person...well...things could've gotten bad for them.)

Pacifica -- Violet -- Animal Empathy

Another instance of me taking inspiration from the zodiac symbol. Not necessarily a Dr. Dolittle kind of thing, as she can't communicate directly with animals, but she can understand the animal's emotions and intentions. The same is said the other way around.

Robbie -- Gray/Silver -- Symphokinesis

I have seen four anime where singing/music is used in combat, Symphogear, Macross Frontier, One Piece, and Cross Ange, and I love it. I love music in general. So, Robbie can use this power via his own singing voice and guitar playing. Plus, he can expand the effect if he harmonizes with others through music. The effects and intensity of his powers usually lie in his intentions and emotions. After all, some say music speaks from the soul. From the heart.

Gideon -- Azure -- Telekinesis and Telepathy

Because why not? At least I didn't have to think too hard on what power to give the little menace. I'd imagine that with the amulet, he had very little limitations to what he can do with his telekinesis. But, since now it is his own power, it's very limited to what his mind can handle, which is surprisingly strong for a 10/11 year old. Remember: He's still a kid with kid-level emotions. Now, he can't read every mind and thought. Some mental walls are stronger than others and his telepathy usually works better on trusting/gullible/innocent people. Of course, it doesn't work on Ford for obvious reasons.

[deadratio]

Blackwood Ch.3 

Summary:  (Y/N) ‘Finch’ Blackwood had grown up her whole life without knowing the true identity of her father. She had always thought herself to be content without knowing who he was, but when her work crosses paths with his own, they both face challenges in trying to figure themselves out. Meanwhile, she doesn’t know that her childhood best friend has made his own way through the Navy, and will be joining them on their adventures.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hint of angst, try and find it.

A/N: One more chapter before my writing hiatus! I will update this as I am available, but there will likely be long stretches of time between chapters from here on out. I graduate in December (I HOPE!) and hopefully the TGM brain rot will still be present. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my fanfics <3 Let me know what you think!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Masterlist

Over the next few days, Finch tries to piece everything together. Her mom had been a civilian working for the Navy when Maverick attended Top Gun in 1986, so they would have likely crossed paths. She wasn’t exactly sure what the connection was, though. Her mom had never mentioned any flings with him or anybody from his class though.

Finch was also very aware of her birth year and knew that her mom had likely had a one-night stand with someone in 1986, considering she had been born in the mid-Spring of 1987. She had also vaguely remembered finding a photo of her dad when she was younger, but she had been through so much since then that she’d forgotten what he even looked like. 

She did her best to ignore the gnawing feeling about the entire situation that was in the back of her head. The last few days of consulting had resulted in a lot of planning for the mission and additional resources needing to be contacted due to the nature of it.

Currently, she was sitting at a desk in one of the classrooms of the academy, trying to figure out the official flight path for the mission. Cyclone had asked her to give a go at mapping it out and figuring out which speeds and heights they would need to be at in order for it to be successful. She only had a day or two before it needed to be completed and submitted to him, so she really was trying to focus on it. 

A loud ruckus was heard from down the hallway, stealing her attention. She had been studying the damn map for hours at this point and knew that continuing to do so would do her absolutely no good. Heaving out a sigh, she raised up from her seat, stretching out her arms and back. 

The noise continued momentarily, reminding her of the reason she had been distracted in the first place. Exiting the room, she made her way down the hall, following howls of laughter and cheers of excitement. 

The sound led her to the trophy room, where the aviators had gathered for a midday break. Rooster was laughing, though his cheeks were brushed with a hint of red. She could tell that Bob was slightly uncomfortable from the conversation, and everybody else was enjoying themselves.

Standing in the doorframe, she crossed her arms, smirking. “So, what’s got the gang all riled up today, huh?” She asked, scanning their faces.

Rooster turned redder, his ears beginning to turn pink. Payback and Coyote couldn’t help but let out another laugh, slapping their thighs. Hangman is smiling like the Cheshire cat, and she can tell that he’s the one who brought up the topic in the first place.

Phoenix looks to her with a playful smile, finally relenting to answer her, “Bagman made a suggestion as to how Rooster got his callsign, and uh, it wasn’t entirely clean.” She revealed, biting her lip to hold back a laugh.

Finch chuckled, returning her gaze to the man in question. She couldn’t say that she hadn’t thought about it, but only in passing. She tried to keep her thoughts clean, but sometimes, just sometimes, she had to relax a little bit herself.

Everyone had started to quiet down now that they had gotten it out of their system, but Finch began to get curious. How did he get his callsign? She didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was stationed in Virginia Beach. 

“Actually,” she said out of the blue, breaking apart the new silence that had just come over the room. “How did  you get your callsign? Since we’re all here, might as well have a callsign story time while we’re here and on the subject.” 

Everyone looked towards her now, observing her stance. She was leaned up against the doorframe now, arms crossed with a glint in her eye. Nobody could exactly tell where her mind was, but none of the dared to ask.

“I got mine because, well you know, I pay people back like I say I’m going to.” Payback replied, starting off the conversation.

Everybody eventually went around explaining the stories behind their callsigns. Hangman was obvious, she had witnessed and observed him leaving people out to dry on multiple occasions since she’d met him. Bob, well he got his because many people saw him as a Bob, but he had thrown in a mention of having taken his niece or nephew to see the minion movie…

Fanyboy was hesitant to explain his, but with a little bit of encouragement, told everybody that he was a hugefan of Taylor Swift. Like, a really big fan. Everyone had a good giggle about it. Coyote had scared off an entire pack of Coyote’s while they had been stationed in the desert, and it stuck after a while. 

Finch knew the story behind Phoenix’s because she had been there when she got it, but it was great all the same. She was extremely proud of her hard work and dedication, and was glad to have watched her bloom into the woman she was today. 

That left her and Rooster to explain theirs. Both were named after a type of bird, so she figured their explanations would be interesting. She decided to go first, leaving Rooster to go very last.

“I got my callsign because not only did I really enjoy bird watching with my mom when I was younger, but I finished the entire book ‘The Goldfinch’ in less than four days. Nothing too interesting, but it resembles me, nonetheless. Finches are beautiful birds, and I feel like we represent each other rather well.” She told them, shrugging her shoulders.

Everyone nodded in agreement, one or two of them shocked by her reading speed. She tended to read relatively quickly, but that was because she never had a lot of time to read in the first place and wanted to get through as many books as she could in her free time. 

Rooster sipped from his water bottle, all eyes turning to him now. He could hear the memory rattle through his brain, but the images of it all were a blur. “Well, as you all know I can play a mean version of Great Balls of Fire,” He started, looking over to Finch, the memory of their first night meeting flashing into his mind. “When I was younger, it was just me and my mom after my dad passed. My mom had this friend who lived in Virginia, close to D.C. We would visit on occasion, and then one day, they told her they were moving states. My mom offered to drive down and help them pack up. Her daughter was about four or five years younger than me; I was like fourteen at the time. They had this old piano, and we had both been taking piano lessons, so we tried to have a piano battle in the middle of all this chaos. I started singing, and I will admit my skills were not as sharp as they are now,”

“Anyways, I start singing, and she stops playing her keys. She turns to me, and tells me to stop crowing like a rooster, and I told her she sounded like a dying bird. It was funny. Our moms were annoyed though, so we just stopped and continued to help.” He said, chuckling at the memory.

Finch is frozen in the doorway, the exact same memory casting through her thoughts. He was Bradley. Not just Rooster, but the Bradley she could never put a face to in her memories. The Bradley that she could never remember his last name, or his mom’s name, or anything about them. 

Rooster looks over to her, observing the expression on her face. It takes a moment, but it clicks shortly after. She was his childhood friend, and they didn’t even know it. He watches her as she steps back from the door, walking down the hallway. He wasn’t going to go after her just then, not only would it be obvious that he also knew, but he needed some time of his own to process it all. 

Finch paces herself quickly down the hallway back to the classroom she had been working in. She really wished she had her phone on her right now, because it was taking everything in her not to call her mom and ask her what her friends name was, and the name of her son. She couldn’t exactly say that he was that same boy who had helped them move all those years ago, but the fact that she shares the memory couldn’t be a coincidence, either.

A knock on the door interrupts her memory speed-run, her body jolting from the suddenness. Maverick stands at the entry, looking over at her concerned. Of course, the other person who she was trying to figure out things about just had to show up.

She stands from her position, saluting him. “Captain,” her voice is taught, though she tries to maintain composure. “What can I do for you?”

Maverick just shakes his head casually, walking over to sit in the seat in front of her. “I was just popping in to see how your mapping was going,” he confesses, turning in the chair to face her. “Seems like something’s bothering you though, care to talk about it?” 

Finch can feel a burst of anxiety in her chest in that moment. She’s basically mentally sandwiched between the two people she’s trying to figure out, and there’s no relenting, apparently. 

Taking a deep breath, Finch gives herself a second to think, of anything, to deter the conversation. She doesn’t even know what to talk to him about, she only knows him on a surface level, and she definitely isn’t in the mindset to talk about the mission details, nor about how he possibly knows her mother. 

“You know, Mav, I do have a question for you,” she tells him, moving the tablet on the desk in front of her to the side. “What was your Top Gun experience like?” It was a good question, and maybe he would give her details that would help her without her having to be too direct with him about it. 

He looks at her then, taking in her features. He could see the resemblance to Charlie. He had always wondered how she had faired after she took off, leaving him without a trace of contact or anything. She had that same determination in her eye, the prowess and the confidence. She had to be wicked smart, considering where she was in her career, never mind highly skilled and well-trusted. 

He finally considers her question. He had a choice to make in whether he gave her the full and honest truth, or some cover story. He really was not a fan of reliving those days, considering what happened while he was here the first time. His train of thought veers slightly, images of Goose and the neon green dye that had permanently haunted his dreams running through his head.

He voice is hardly steady as he replies to Finch, “I’d rather not talk about it.” His throat bobbed as he held the memory back, his lip caught gently between his teeth.

Finch recognizes that he doesn’t need to be pushed, and nods in agreement, her eyes glimpsing down to the tablet in front of her. She guessed that if she couldn’t pry him about his past, she might as well try to sort out the future.

“Well, if anything, I think I figured out some stuff about this flight path. I know that they have to start flying it soon, but I can’t exactly figure out what the maximum height would be. I know that the SAMs will activate if they go above x amount of feet, but I know we want to stay below that.” She tells him, changing the subject. 

She can tell that he’s not entirely there anymore but told him anyways. She had seen that look on her mom’s face a few times when she had been telling her about her career. Her mom rarely talked about her time at Top Gun, and she had never been sure of exactly why that was. She didn’t know if it had just been that bad, or if there had been a series of events that were separate of the experience that made it an unwelcome memory for her. 

Maverick nods, glancing at the diagram on the screen. He’s still slightly off from the memories he’d just had but does his best to be in the present. “I understand. You know, I think we could probably go for a maximum height of 100 feet.” 

Finch isn’t exactly sure what the hell this man thinks he’s doing with a crew of six aviators but sending them into a mission at only 100 feet above ground level was not what she had in mind. She feels shocked that he would consider that, but they would have to meet with Cyclone and Warlock to make it official anyways.

“Mav, are you insane!?” She asks him, voice slightly raised.

He just looks at her and shrugs his shoulders, hand coming up to massage his chin and cheek. He’s got a lot riding on this mission, including his career, and he knows it’s more than risky business even trying to attempt this mission. 

“Look, I know I sound crazy, but trust me. These SAMs are no joke, and if we want a remote chance of survival, we have to be as low as we can.” He explained himself, trying to be sympathetic towards her concerns.

Silence filled the space eerily, tension gradually building. Finch was not in a space to discuss the safety of these aviators with their instructor, who according to her coworkers, was reckless anyways and had just reached Mach 10.3 in a scramjet and otherwise would have been discharged for it too. 

Finch sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. This entire situation was stressful, and she wasn’t even going on the mission itself. She looked back to Maverick then, trying to sort through it all in her head. 

“Okay,” she said, breaking the silence, “I think it’s time that I call it a day.” Moving from her chair, she began to gather her materials. There was too much going on to think, and too many people around her who were also on her mind. 

Maverick nods, rising from his own seat. “Finch,” He wipes his hands in his pants, not realizing how sweaty he had become. “I appreciate you wanting to learn more about me, but I think it’s better that we leave things in the past.”

Looking over her shoulder at him, she gives his statement a thought. Why do things have to stay in the past? She immediately felt like he was being suspicious about the entire situation but resolved to pull the information from someone.

“No worries, I understand.” She lies to him, walking out of the room and down the hall. 

Her curiosity peaked at this point, and she knew that she had to get down to the bottom of this situationship it appeared her mom and Maverick had, not only now, but in the past as well.

Chapter 4

Tag List:

@luckyladycreator2​

@shouldershimmycity​

@pennbii​

@someone-pls-kill-me​

@bayisdying

@cherrycola27

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@shrimping-for-all

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Rewrite]

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who’s had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter Seven.

The door to his first class suite opens and Mulder lets her in first. The air is awkward, the request still buzzing around but it’s happening, whether either of them can believe it or not.

He gives a glance into the hallway, to make sure there’s no family member making an inopportune visit to the room, before shutting the door and locking it.

“This is…”

Mulder turns to see Scully looking around the room. She turns back to him.

“Nice,” she finishes and Mulder’s not sure if he saw the glint of envy pass over her eyes or not.

“I like it,” he says, throwing the keys onto the table. “Bed could be better, though.”

Scully swivels to take a look at the bed. An unsure glance towards Mulder, she cautiously walks over to it. He watches as she sits down on the bedding, testing it out, before her eyes widen and she falls back.

Mulder lets out a chuckle.

“I could get used to this,” Scully says, snuggling into the bed.

A surge of boyish immaturity overcomes him. From where he stands, not that far away, he jumps, landing onto the bed just millimetres away from her as the mattress’ springs creak and groan to take on the added weight created by the force. The act itself startles Scully.

“Jesus, Mulder!” she cries. “What did you do that for?”

Mulder only laughs, leaning against his elbow. “What? Is my boyish agility turning you on or something?”

Her annoyance fades, the scowl transforming into a grin. It’s infectious, and Mulder finds himself grinning to. He likes this. The freedom and ability to just play around and be stupid. He tried it with Phoebe once and she just told him to grow up.

He leans down to kiss her but something in the room catches Scully’s eye and she’s up off the bed before Mulder even realises, interested in something over at the vanity.

“What are these?”

Climbing off the bed himself, Mulder, curious, heads towards her. He sees the vial that caught her attention.

“Phoebe’s perfumes.” He takes a bottle himself, tossing it between both hands. It’s the first time he’d really taken a look at one. “They cost a fair bit considering how tiny they are.” He puts the vial down while Scully untwists the cap of the one she holds and smells it, before sighing with what sounds like a hint of disappointment, and places the bottle back down.

“They all seem wasted on her,” Scully mutters just loud enough for Mulder to hear.

Mulder scans the vials looking for one Phoebe doesn’t wear often, one he won’t smell and immediately associate with her. He chooses the one labelled Sunset Ocean. He reaches for her wrist, bringing it towards him, uncapping the bottle. Scully watches and her eyes widen.

“Mulder, that’s Phoebe’s!”

“It’s fine, she doesn’t wear this one anyway, that’s why I picked it.”

He dabs the tinniest bit onto her pulse then brings her wrist up to his nose. His eyes close as he breathes her in, growing hard, wanting to bathe her in the smell, surround himself with the scent.

“I’m buying you a bottle,” he says matter-of-factly, a lingering promise.

Scully, in turn, gives him- what he can only perceive as a sceptical look- before something else catches her attention. She pulls her arm from his hands.

“You have a dog?” she asks, rushing over to the lead hanging up.

He’d forgotten about the dog. Again.

Heading over to the bathroom door, he opens it and out trots the mutt, tongue sticking out as it looks up expectantly at Mulder.

Scully gasps in awe, racing over to the dog. She’s there, kneeling on the floor, excitedly stroking her hand through its fur, completely taken with it.

“She’s Phoebe’s dog,” Mulder says, watching. “She got it after…” He stops, not sure if Scully was really interested in the story of why Phoebe has a dog. She’s not listening anyway, too enamoured with the dog. “I don’t like it, anyway.”

She looks up at him like she’d just heard him wrong.

“How can you not like dogs?” she asks, shocked.

“Because I’m not a dog person.”

She smiles, shaking her head and turning back to the dog that seems to love Scully as much as she loves it.

“You keep surprising me, Mulder.”

Yeah, I do that a lot.

Thinking that to himself, he picks the dog up, walking over to the adjoining door.

“Stay there,” he tells the thing. Then proceeds to shut the door on it.

“I hope that room belongs to someone you know,” Scully says, smiling.

“Yeah, my parents.” Mulder answers.

The smile falls from her face as she glances warily to the door then back to Mulder.

“They’re not due back any time soon, are they?”

Mulder looks to the clock then back to Scully.

“Dinner will keep them occupied.”

The awkwardness returns back to the room, the weight settling over them again.

“You definitely comfortable with this?” he asks. He asked it after she’d nodded when his request was first made. He’d asked again when they got to the front door, and now he was asking again.

Scully nods, fiddling with her hands. He’d rather verbal confirmation but he takes what he can get.

“Right then…”

An awkward pause once more.

“I guess I should go get…unready then…”

“Yeah,” Mulder agrees, bouncing nervously on his feet. What’s he got to be nervous about anyway, he’s not the one about to strip naked in front of a stranger. “Don’t forget to leave the cross on,” he says before she disappears behind the bedroom door.

“Aye.”

Once gone, Mulder lets out a nervous breath. He looks around the room, dissociating from the now well-known place and begins thinking about it from an artistic point-of-view.

He lights candles, turns down the glow of the lights, bathing the room in an orange hue. Moves the sofa to the middle of the room, adjusting it so the light will hit her best. Once happy with how the room looks, he swipes his sweaty hands on his pants and opens the safe, taking out the sketch-book.

She’s just like everyone else, he repeats as he flips through the pages, reminding himself that he’s done this countless times before.

He turns to a new page, rolls up his sleeves, and sharpens his charcoal briefly all the while repeating his mantra.

Lost in reverie, he doesn’t hear the bedroom door open or notice she’s standing there until she coughs.

He wills himself to look up and when he does, lets out a breath of awe at the sight.

Unsure of what she’s done- if she’s even done anything at all- she’s stands before him, a sheer black robe he knows is the only thing that covers her, her hair falls in soft curls around her shoulders. He sees her freckles more predominately here, too, and he doesn’t know whether it’s the lighting, or the mood, or her, or maybe he’s just been blind this entire time but she’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Scully…” he says, trying to form the words, tongue too fat.

She gives him a timid smile, a little move of the corners of her mouth, as her eyes skit everywhere.

His legs like lead, Mulder gets up from his seat, slowly approaching her.

He wants to reassure her. Grasping a hand from their linked position, he smooths his thumb over the knuckles. She looks away, and when she does, his other hand is right there ringing her head back up to look at him.

She regulates her breath as they stare at each other. Positive she now won’t look away, he moves his hand away from her chin, folding it around the one he holds as he brings it up to his mouth, catching a scent of the perfume that still lingers, never looking away from her.

“You’re safe,” he tells her, still kissing her knuckles. “I promise.”

A certainty flickers across her eyes.

“I trust you.”

It’s almost as good as an I love you.

He lets go of her hand, moving back towards the table and his seat. When he sits down, she’s moves back towards the sofa, stopping as the backs of her knees hit the furniture.

A synchronised inhale of air, she hooks her fingers into the robe and lets it fall to the floor.

Mulder is mesmerised, his eyes drinking up the sight before him. Gorgeous, he thinks once more, all soft curves and creamy skin. He feels his cock beginning to stir when his gaze falls to her breasts, nipples hardened thanks to the chill in the room.

“Gorgeous,” he says aloud, not able to get enough of her. His insides flutter with yearning at the little flirty smile she throws him.

Utterly distracted with the way the light catches her body, it’s only when she asks him how he wants her does he realise what they’re here to do.

Retaining some kind of professionalism, he instructs her to lie back against the cushions, turn her face towards him and then asks that she twist her body just a tiny bit so he can fully capture it.

He moves from his seat again when it becomes clear she doesn’t know what to do with her arms. Sitting in the space left over, he positions one arm to rest against the cushions and the other to lean against her temple. Happy with the positioning, he strokes a piece of hair out the way before kissing her forehead.

“Thank you for letting me do this,” he whispers against her, then he regains composure and walks back to the table, hand shaking as he picks up the charcoal.

“This isn’t an easy thing to do,” he says. “Lie as still as you can. Keep your eyes on me and look nowhere else.” She nods, locking her eyes onto his.

With a deep breath, Mulder stares at her, taking note of where the light lands on her skin and where the shadows conceal other parts. His eyes travel up her body before landing on the cross, the gold standing out against her pale skin. He’d believe in a God if her name was Dana Scully.

With time ticking away, he slowly puts his pencil against paper and begins to draw.

It’s been some time since he’s drawn life. This engagement, the loss of their child, this spontaneous trip across the sea has put it all on hold. It’s been two years since he’s drawn a human yet it doesn’t take long for his hand to re-discover the habit, like riding a bike, his hand translates what’s in front of him. There’s the brief concern that maybe he won’t be able to do Scully’s beauty justice but as her outline is drawn by his own hand, those fears and doubts begin to fade away. It’s just him, his paper, his charcoal, and his Scully. He bathes in the familiarity of capturing a life, surrenders to the calming sound of pencil scratching against paper, to Scully’s little sighs and moans that spur him on in more ways than one. He softens her elbow, adds shading to the insides of her arms. He looks up when it’s time to concentrate on attributes that are unique to her; freckles that dot her arms, little birth marks that cover various places on her skin.

A blush covers his cheeks when he begins to draw the swells of her breasts, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Scully.

“I thought you’d be used to drawing body parts by now?” she taunts from afar.

Mulder smiles, he is, he’s drawn plenty but never with this much emotion behind it.

“Shh. You don’t realise it but you make little movements when you speak,” he gently chides.

“Sorry,” she apologies, settling down against the cushions and sighing as she relaxes.

As his fingers soften the lines of her breasts and torso, a flash of heat sparks in his stomach as he wonders what it would be like to touch the real-life form, would her skin feel as soft as it looks?

He moves back up to her neck, draws the cross and smudges out the area where the light hits it.

A bit more time is spent on adding a few touches, only shading and smudges the areas about her. He does not dare touch the masterpiece that sits in the middle, for fear of ruining it, but does as he likes with the surroundings all until it is complete. Finished.

She moves when she realises that he’s not drawing anymore and Mulder flips the book closed, eyes her hungrily and stalks towards her.

The way her eyes look up at him steals his breath away; so vulnerable and trusting, big and blue. Awestruck, he kneels before her, ready to worship at the alter of Dana Scully and she is none the wiser to the power that she holds by just being her.

Tentatively, he stretches out his hand, hovering just above her torso. “May I?” he asks and Scully nods.

He begins trailing his fingers up the side of her waist, touching the real life sculpture of his drawing, watching the path of Goosebumps form behind them. He goes slowly, concentrating on the feeling of soft flesh beneath his fingertips. There’s not much skin to cover and Mulder stops just inches beneath the swell of her breast. A glance above and he can see her nod ever so slightly, granting him permission.

Gently he moves his finger along her chest, thumb hovering in the air and watching as her breathing becomes quicker.

Mulder stops just when his thumb is above her nipple, waiting, teasing. He sneaks a look at her, sees the pleading in her eyes, and with one final wait, he quickly flicks his thumb across it. A small gasp falls from her mouth and Mulder smiles, does it again as his other hand joins in, forgoing all the caution and hesitance the first had. More gasps leave her mouth and Mulder finds he likes the sound, wants to hear it some more.

He gets up from his position on the floor, feeling her eyes on him the entire time and sits beside her on the sofa. Unable to resist keeping his hands of her, they move to her leg, stroking up and down.

He watches her eyes grow heavy, the lighting and continual movement of his hand making her tired. Mulder can feel it too, the warmth of the room and heat of her skin making him feel drowsy.

“You’re beautiful,” he speaks softly and is rewarded with a that small, shy smile he loves so much.

His hand stops, and he begins twisting on his seat. He feels rather than sees her dart awake, worried he was about to stop his ministrations. Mulder hushes her, telling her to relax as he bends over her, fully ready to appreciate the body laying before him.

He starts with her right ankle, dotting kisses on every inch of skin he can reach, trailing up to her calf and knee, keeping to the outside of her thigh and over her hip. Kisses her stomach and feels her fingers glide through his hair as she bucks against him, with his free hands he holds her down, continuing his journey up the middle of her torso, separating to plant a kiss against her nipples before meeting in the middle and continuing on. He kisses her cross, another barrier between them but one they’ve broken through together before finally landing on her lips.

His teasing has made her desperate, her mouth crashing against his, tongue trying to invade and Mulder lets her take control, lets her teeth scratch and suck and bite his lip.

He covers her completely, kneeling in the vee of her thighs, and Scully doesn’t wait to use this to her advantage, hooking her leg around him in an attempt to grind herself on him.

In his kiss-muddled haze he understands what she’s trying to do and he wants it to- if the semi in his pants is anything to go by- but…

“Are you sure?”

He pulls his mouth away from her and looks down at her; mussed hair, swollen lips, clouded eyes.

She nods.

He lets the information sink in, it is really that surprising that all this has led them here?

Scully laces their hands together, “Only if it’s what you want.”

A glance at the clock on top of the fireplace tells him it’s almost 7:00. Dinner can last anywhere between 5:00 and 9:00. A simple calculation tells him they have enough time before any unwanted interruptions.

“We’ll have to be quick,” he tells her anyway. Later he can dedicate hours and hours to discover every inch of her body, away from disapproving eyes.

“Best hurry up and get to where I am then,” she answers, pulling him back down and kissing him again.

He wastes no time tossing his shirt off, only breaking the kiss to throw it over his head and across the room. Scully quickens the process, hands working on undoing his belt and once she’s got it undone, he does the rest of the work, shucking down his pants and underwear and kicking them off.

They allow themselves this moment, just the feel of skin on skin and when Mulder looks at her again she smiles shyly.

The weight of what they’re moments away from doing bears down on him. With one last ounce of uncertainty Mulder asks, “Are you definitely sure you want to do this?” She can say no and he won’t think any less of her if she does. Won’t think any less of her if she doesn’t.

“I’m sure, Mulder. I promise,” she confirms.

Mulder smiles, assured that either one is about to regret this, he strokes a piece of hair back from her face. Just one last thing.

“I’ve gotta ask,” he begins, frowning. This is slightly awkward. “Have you done this before?”

“Once,” she admits, unsure as her eyes look away from his. Embarrassed or ashamed, Mulder doesn’t know. It makes no difference to him if she’s not a virgin, it’s not his place, she had a life before him anyway, it would be stupid to have expected otherwise.

Without another word, he lets his hand trail to her centre, letting them ghost her outer lips before slipping a finger inside.

She gasps at the feel against the sensitive flesh and Mulder instantly feels the wetness that’s gathered there. Another finger presses in, joining the first as he gently spreads her wetness.

“Mulder…” she whines against his ear and Mulder guesses this could probably come under teasing if he carries on. “I’m ready.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, muffled against her shoulder.

“You won’t.” She moves her hips to the movement of his fingers, trying to create friction. “Please…”

Certain she was ready enough, he removes his fingers instantly missing the warmth as he grips himself in his hand.

With one last look to be certain, he guides himself into her.

Fingers grip the short ends of his hair as she cries out but Mulder can think of nothing but how good she feels; warm and tight, a solid hold on him as he sinks all the way to the hilt.

He stops for a moment, giving her a second to adjust.

“Is this okay?” he asks. There’s a brief moment where he wonders if he’s being annoying, constantly asking her if she’s sure, if she’s alright, but her safety and concerns are paramount- he won’t have her thinking otherwise.

He feels rather than sees her nod.

“You can move now,” she says, breathily. “I think I’m okay.”

Thank god, Mulder thinks. A second longer and he doesn’t think he’d be able to resist any longer.

He starts off slow, gentle like the waves they ride on but eventually the thrusts quicken. Her cries and grasps spur him on, allowing him to move faster as she moves beneath, keeping up with the pace he’s set. She begins mewling when she gets closer, hands trying to gain a grip on everything from the cushions to his body. He’s so close but he’d be damned if he finishes before her- this hasn’t been the best in terms of devoting real time to her pleasure, usually he likes to give a lot more than he allows himself to get, and had things been different here, he’d gladly give that time to her as well. He drops his fingers to her clit, rubbing furiously against her to the speed of his thrusts and it seems to help, she climbs his body trying to move faster, build more friction until finally the dam breaks. She crumbles in a heap of pants below him as her orgasm washes through her. It’s enough for him too, a few more sporadic thrusts and he follows her, collapsing on top of her.

They lay there, softening inside her and it’s only then when Mulder becomes acutely aware that he may be crushing her. He goes to move, to lay to the side but he feels hands gripping him, keeping him to her.

“No,” Scully murmurs, holding him tight against her so he can’t move. “I like it.”

So he stays there, heart beating wildly in his chest as he lays against hers.

The afterglow washes over him, the glow from the lights and candles casting them in a calm orange. He’s warm and safe, everyone but Scully a million miles away.

Nails scratch against his scalp and his eyes fall shut up, lulled by the feel of them against his head, the scent of Scully and that Sunset Ocean perfume he sprayed, the comforting heat that radiates from her body.

Without a care in the world, he could fall sleep right now.

“Can I see it?” she asks against his chest.

They’d had sex again. Scully on top this time, his hands at her hips, guiding her, watching her, ever the voyeur. After she’d come, she leaned over him and whispered into his ear that he wanted him in her mouth. His eyes had widened, only the Dutch girls in featured in his sketch book had done that but her eyes were filled with want and so he had let her, come apart to the feel of her hands and her mouth, so much better than the Dutch girls.

He had wanted to repay the favour.

“Later,” she’d said, snuggling against his chest.

For hours it had felt like they had been laying here, his nails gently grazing her side in their up-and-down motion.

He eyes the book still sat upon the table, it’s black cover stark against the mahogany. Mulder shifts to get up, and Scully moves away from him, bending to pick up the robe still left on the floor from earlier and wraps it around her. He walks back to the sofa, book now in his hand, and sits up against the cushions, pulling Scully back towards him, using her heat to keep him warm.

She takes the book and Mulder watches as she turns the pages, cautious for what she might say, hoping she’s as happy with it as he was.

The page falls open and Mulder eyes her anxiously, trying to gauge her opinion from the way she looks at it.

“Do you like it?” he asks, needing her to say yes.

She’s quiet and Mulder instantly thinks the worst.

“I can try again. I can do better…”

She shuts him up when her mouth falls onto his, kissing him with the same vigour as before, and Mulder is too struck to do anything more than to catch up, to devour her lips as much as she devours his.

They break and her eyes float back down to the sketchbook again.

“I love it,” she says, her hand tracing the portrait. “Thank you.”

Mulder smiles, so happy and grateful and relieved that she likes it.

“It’s yours to keep if you want it,” he says but something changes in Scully’s eyes.

She quickly gets up from the sofa, and Mulder watches her with confusion and curiosity. She gently rips the page from the book, careful not to rip the drawing in the process. Ripping out a blank page, she grabs a pen and begins to scribble something down.

“What are you writing?” Mulder asks, bewildered.

Scully doesn’t answer, and instead moves away from the table and back to the sofa.

Sitting up again, Mulder asks, “What was that?”

“Just a little something for Phoebe and your father.”

Mulder nervously laughs, unsure if what she’s just done is really a good idea but he ignores it, the consequences don’t matter anyway, his mind is made up already.

Once this ship docks in New York, he’s getting off with Scully.

For now, though, he kisses her again, his arms wrapping around her legs to hoist her up. Everything about her is magical, and fun, and freeing. He carries her into the bedroom. They make love for the third time that night.

[shirleywritesonthemoon]

A CACOPHONY OF CHIRPS;

A strange family who lived in Bangor, Maine suffered a great loss. The year was 1979, and a thick blanket of snow covered the town. Two charming, young, happy, newlyweds lived in a middle-class home, and wanted a child ever so desperately, but no matter how hard they tried, their efforts were fruitless. After months of trying, the wife wept under their juniper tree, which had been left behind by the previous owners of the house. 

“Why can’t I have a child?” She sobbed,  hugging herself tightly for warmth. “I just..I wish I could have a child and  make my mother proud.” The winter howled in response,  causing the young woman to shiver. 

The voice of her beloved husband called out, “Janet? Are you out here?” 

“Yeah..one second,” she weakly responded. 

Less than two months later, a miracle had arrived! The newlyweds wife was with child. 

“Peter!” She exclaimed,  waving the positive  pregnancy test above her head, “Peter, I’m pregnant!” Her husband quickly hugged her with a large smile on his face. 

“That’s amazing,  Janet,” Peter cheered. 

Nine months later, a baby boy was born in the late spring,  but this joyous occasion did not last long. Five hours after giving birth,  Janet Kane died from complications during the cesarean section. Heartbroken, Peter named the boy Jason, Jay for short,  after his late wife. Jay was gifted with his mothers beauty. He had black hair, red lips, and tan skin (The tan skin was the only thing he inherited from his father). Janet was buried under the juniper tree in their backyard with a small service and small tombstone. 

Peter moved on quite quickly from Janet, after all, he now had a child to care for. Months after meeting a stunning woman named Jennifer , he swiftly married her. Jennifer  was a rich woman who inherited her fathers fortune after his mysterious death. Jennifer had a daughter of her own named Mary. Sweet Mary loved her little step-brother, but was too terrified to stand up to her mothers harsh punishments for Jay.  

In late October, the weather was  akin to the winter Janet wept for Jay. Jay biked home from elementary school, speeding through puddles and narrowly avoiding third-graders. He was excited to see his sister, who got home from school an hour before him since she was in high-school. When he was only blocks away from his home, he stopped his red bike to observe his favorite animal; birds. 

Jennifer was sick and tired of that little brat Peter loved. Jay always toddled up to her, asking for hugs and asking if she wanted to tuck him in. Jennifer didn’t marry a lowly carpenter because she cared about him or his stupid son. No, the rich bay stater married him for the insurance money. After Janet had died, Peter inherited many fortunes worth of cash. The redheaded woman grew up filthy rich, and lived off her fathers money until her late thirties, when he passed. She wore lavish silk, designer brands, and only drank the finest alcohol and smoked the best cigarettes. Turns out, her father grew tired of her and wrote her out of his will, which she didn't know until she went to claim her inheritance only to find nothing. Once Peter died, all that money would be hers to spoil herself. 

“It’s not selfish..I deserve to be filthy rich, right?” Jennifer mumbled, knowing deep down she was in the wrong yet unwilling to admit it. Her ochre eyes scanned the street through the window, looking at the elementary schoolers biking home. Without warning, Peter drunkenly stumbled into the room.

 “Where’s Jay?” He asked, slurring his son’s name. He smelled of cheap whiskey and cigars, both things that Jennifer despised. She stepped away from him and covered her nose. 

“He isn’t home yet, he's probably stuck in the rain,” she replied, even though she didn’t care where her step-son was.  Maybe he did everyone in this house a favor and dropped dead. She kept that thought to herself and went to their freshly painted, yet gaudy, kitchen for a can of Mello Yello. 

[saviorfoxowlis]

N:Era: Where We Lie Part 1: The Greatest Scam

Slaughterhound Studios presents:

N:Era: Where We Lie

Chapter 1: The Greatest Scam

A red fox stood opposite a purple fox. Both glared at each other, their hackles raised, their claws stretched out.

Owlis said, "Summer fades to Autumn, and that's why my name is Fall."

Ironically, the actual season was once Spring. However, each flower opened in bloom, and the sickly sweet scents faded away, as the plants became mature.

"The only thing falling is you!" Cyras shouted, "and no one's putting you together again!"

Owlis said, "Stand your ground, and fight me now."

Cyras rushed at her, only for the purple fox to sidestep, before grabbing the arm and forcing the limb to her back. Eyes widening, the younger realized how weird this position was.

Owlis slammed Cyras across her knee before flipping the girl over. Cyras' tail bone hit the grass, and she winced. "Stop doing that!"

With a laugh, Owlis told her, "Once you learn the basics of my type of fighting, you'll know."

Grumbling, the red fox rubbed her tail bone, her pelt being the exact opposite of the wet grass. Sometimes, she felt afraid her stealth was weak since she stood out so well. Luckily red and green colorblindness existed, unluckily, lots of other dires saw the full range of colors.

She once heard males had a lesser ability to pick out reds from greens.

"Cyras."

She snapped back to attention from her daydreaming. "Erm, yes?"

"I would like to inform you that your birthday is coming up."

Birthday. A mix of birth and day. "Like the day I was born?"

"Yes. Anyway, custom says you will be getting gifts, but unfortunately, I've only known you for a few weeks and am unaware of what you would like. Therefore, I am going to be giving you this." She handed her a dark blue card with a platinum streak. "And this will help feed you."

Cyras prepared a chomp when she got smacked on the nose.

"No, you little fool, this isn't the food, this buys food. You're going to give this to a cashier."

Oh yeah, Civics bought stuff unlike Wildborns such as herself. But stealing was "wrong" and resulted in Owlis getting very unhappy. That was around the part Owlis began explaining the credit card.

Rolling her eyes, Cyras ignored her.

"Finally, we will be throwing a party. This will be your first formal event too, so I'll teach you how to behave."

Cyras' ears perked up. Owlis trotted away, having other business to attend.

Scanning the garden, Cyras sniffed at some of the various plants and vegetables, getting the earthy musk. Summer roses were one of her favorite flowers. She picked one, and scampered, as she had a meeting with her friends.

A couple of hours later, she arrived at Summer's Meadow. An area mostly with grass, a large collection of trees for the wild she once lived in, and tulips. Main populace, younger kids. So the area was mostly noisy.

She passed by several groups and set herself by a log with a hyena, a coywolf, and a crimson - a species of bipedal weasels.

Ahmond stared down as Cyras and Lilu played games. Cyras said, "So Lilu, now that you've come back home, how's your mother been?"

Rosod said, "Yeah, you haven't said anything for a while now."

Lilu shrugged. "I mean, things were fine until she started acting all herself again."

Rosod drummed a beat onto the stump and began beatboxing as Cyras sang.

"Who's lying always, causing Li problems?

Who's probably overcompensating?

Who's only famous, for being queen?

Everyone knows Jazmyn!

So, what's crazy Aunt Jazmyn doing this time?"

"Well..."

Lilu transported back, remembering before the before, as she told her mom, "I've found out that I really like strawberry ice cream with vanilla."

"You really need to start thinking about your weight," Jazmyn said during the movie.

-"Wait, you two were talking during a movie?" Ahmond asked. "At the theater?"

"Yeah that's pretty rude," Rosod told her.

"Not the point!"

Ahmond said, "Well if you want, you can have some of my apples." She rolled an apple to Lilu since that was her lunch, along with some crackers and lemonade pink.

"That's still not the- are you saying I'm fat?"

Ahmond said, "Oh, ummmm... I just figured the reason you were telling us is because you wanted help with your weight! So that's why I offered apples. Just, you're usually eating fatty foods."

"Yes, I go to your ice cream shop, to get ice cream from you, to support your business. And your family's business."

"Not really helping," Ahmond told her. "We've had to take out a loan from the government. And Owlis, is, ummm, really, really, scary."

The other three girls peered at her, with Rosod saying, "Let's see what's going on with her. Tell us more."

-

The guard escorted Ahmond to the torture dungeon, a spacious yet dank room made mostly of bricks. Grime accumulated on walls, but that wasn't noticeable compared with the mold and moss. Past some vine birthing bricks was a metal board. A toy coywolf with the same markings as Ahmond was strapped down, tail kept up with a single metal cuff, which was linked by a chain with the ceiling. Yellow marks were present on the buttocks where the paddle would strike.

Creases riddled Owlis' expression as she bit on the paddle. "I gave you that business loan two months ago. So pretend this is you."

Maypol the hyena said, "You heard her, that's you right there, Ahmond!"

Owlis whacked the marketable toy's buttocks as hard as she could, the force knocking the buttons off the eyes. The chain writhed and wriggled as the force echoed through the chamber.

Horror filled the coywolf. Her legs almost became jelly as she realized the eventual fate if, after a week, she hadn't given Owlis back the loan.

"YOU BETTER GIVE ME MY MONEY!"

As Ahmond took off running, she heard Maypol hyping Owlis up by saying, "She's gonna beat your candy butt, Ahmond, get her her money!"

-

Cyras' face was also riddled with creases, only these were more out of shock and disbelief. "Ahmond, when I got paddled, I got paddled in a nice comfy room, not in some awesome spanking dungeon that Owlis supposedly has."

Rosod told her, "And furthermore, she wouldn't have a marketable stuffed toy of you."

Lilu burst into laughter. "You're up the creek and unfortunately for you, Owlis has the paddle, Chubby Puppy! You better get her her money!"

Ahmond whimpered while Cyras glared at Lilu. "This is no laughing matter. Ahmond's a big wimp."

Ahmond puffed her cheeks out.

"Oh I'm just kidding, Sweetaling," Cyras told her, resting a paw on her shoulder. "You know, I might be able to help you out. I can give you the money for you to pay back. She gave me a credit card for my birthday."

"I wasn't invited to your birthday," Rosod told her.

"...My birthday is my day of birth. How are you going to miss my birthday?" Cyras asked. "Unless you sleep all day, that's impossible."

"Okay, fine, I wasn't invited to your birthday party. Punk." Rosod cracked her knuckles on one hand with her thumb, then her thumb with two fingers. The bipedal weasel rested her feet on the stump. "Also Owlis can just look up the purchases. She'll know, Cyras."

"Then, let's just buy enough stuff that Owlis doesn't know. She won't look at how much I gave Ahmond if she thinks I spent all the money on something else."

"Is that reverse money laundering?" Rosod asked.

***

Ahmond determined for believability's sake, Cyras should purchase something from a place she would visit. Not a jewelry store. Not a clothing outlet. So, that took them to the mall.

Immediately, Cyras ran to, the food court, however, Ahmond bit on her nape. Muffled, she said, "No."

Cyras scratched at the conditioned wind while Ahmond dragged her away. Spitting the fox out, Ahmond explained, "We need to buy something Owlis will see. Some toys."

Cyras huffed. "Just some cheesy chips."

"Nacho chips."

"They could be."

Ahmond blinked, then stepped on an escalator. She looked back, then double took as she realized Cyras wasn't with her.

She heard panting as Cyras was finally up the set of manual stairs.

On the next floor, they went over several shops. Fashion, candy ("No Cyras, not yet") or toys. Ahmond took her to one, saying, "Novelty items, these might be more your style." The carpeting was pink and plush, the lighting dim and faltering. A purple lizard stood behind the counter, a creature known as a "Violet".

"Oversized furry dice, crooked teeth... Are those real teeth? Uh. Soda drinking hats." Ahmond read each word for Cyras as they went through this shop of cramped oddities.

Cyras asked, "No offense, but, why would anyone buy any of this?"

The shopkeeper chuckled.

"She just made fun of your store."

"At least she's honest," the violet lizard said as he leaned forward, Cyras retreating a step because of his ugly bony body. "Look, I'm just the cashier and all I see is people coming in, buying stupid stuff. This shop has all the stuff no one would buy in an actual shop. These are all the rejects, the inventions that got nowhere, these are all wastes of space"

He pointed to a box with the words "Lie Detector". "Try that. The creator thought that would be the next big thing, the lie detector test. Unfortunately, that was a lie."

Ahmond ran a paw over the surface as she muttered something.

"Kid, speak up."

"...I just think this might be a bit interesting, that's all."

Cyras squinted. "Worth ten Drakold. Alright, let's buy ten."

"Oh Cyras, I don't need a lie detector," Ahmond said. "Much less twenty of them."

"I know. But maybe we'll help someone else while we help you. Two hundred Drakold may just be the break someone needs."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Besides, Owlis might wanna hear that I helped a struggling businessman by buying Lie Detectors than by buying Ice Cream."

They both giggled.

After Cyras made the transaction with the credit card at the shop in the mall, she'd give Ahmond the credit card for the ice cream shop.

"Alright, making the transaction," Cyras said as she had Ahmond swipe the credit card, "and we're good now?"

Ahmond put in some numbers. "Yes, we are good."

"So out of interest, should I tell them, or you?"

Both girls saw Rosod mocking them, while across the booth was Lilu.

"Hit them with the facts, Rosod."

"I'll hit them so hard, Owlis will have nothing left," Rosod promised her.

***

Daybreak argued with his parents as they threw his stuff on the lawn. Including his magazines and his comic books.

"I told you I'm still waiting for the money to come in, and my other invention is taking some time. You let Orch stay."

"Orch has a job," his father said.

"Selling novelty items! No one even goes in that store, they're thinking about replacing the shop."

"Great, sounds like you'll have a buddy soon," his dad said before the purple lizard threw a box of childhood toys.

Daybreak threw his arms out in wild, illegible gestures, before saying, "Twil lives here."

"She cooks."

"Terribly!"

A voice inside the house said, "I'm going to be cooking meatloaf tonight."

"Thanks, Sweetie," her father called back at her, before facing his son. "Look on the bright side, you don't have to eat that. We'll see you on the holidays." He slammed the door.

Daybreak stumbled over at a box, then whirled back and said, "...If I get a girlfriend I'm visiting her family for the holidays."

"I'll be in the hospital because oink-a-loinks will have flown right outta my butt."

Daybreak groaned as he walked down the streets and knew the only place he could head. Warm tears flooded from his eyes as snot came from his nostrils.

He got into the mall, got on the escalator with his hand draping over, before walking across several shops. Finally, Orch's shop.

Taking a deep breath, he sucked up the snot and cleared his voice, then he came into the Novelty shop.

"Orch." His voice broke. "Um, Orch," he said louder.

His brother stared at his eyes, then at his feet. "Mm-hm. You sound a little snotty."

"Oh, I'm a little sick. Uh, Mom and dad kicked me out."

Orch looked away and stayed silent for a moment. "Oh, wow. Uh... like you mean kicked out."

"I'm not allowed back home until the holidays."

"Just like that."

"I need money, I don't know where I can stay."

"Well, can't say we didn't know this was coming. Good news for you. Two girls just bought a bunch of your lie detectors."

"...How many."

"Twenty."

Orch pointed to an area, and Daybreak saw the tag mentioned Lie Detectors, but none stood there. A smile broke on Break's face, then he began grinning.

"You're not out of the water yet."

"Okay. But still, pretty cool. Maybe there will be more orders, and maybe more people will begin buying."

Orch shrugged, and stretched out a palm of Drakold, saying, "This should get you a hotel room." He patted his brother's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, man."

"Thanks." Still, Daybreak felt his life was better. Just a bit. "Tell me what these girls looked like."

[glowingbadger]

Let's talk "Fertility Saint Cichol" for a bit, shall we?

No one requested this, I just wanted to let my mind wander on its own for once lol.

Seteth (FE3H) x GN Reader

cw: cock worship, deep throating, me being a shameless size queen

NSFW 18+

* and spoilers I guess idk

You've only been in Seteth's quarters a handful of times before, and always with him present. Today, however, it seems work has kept him late, and so you meander around his room, trying to occupy yourself without being overly intrusive as you wait to meet him for tea. Truthfully, there isn't much to see. A tasteful four poster bed with curtains drawn, several bookshelves, a work desk- as if he needs more opportunities to work, you think with a bemused smirk.

So, to keep busy, you choose a light bit of reading at random from an uncharacteristically unruly pile on the floor beside Seteth's desk. It appears to be an anthology of some rather fantastical tales centering the saints. As you skim through, you can't help a grin. Evidently, Cethleann was 9 feet tall and her hair was a literal flowing waterfall, while Indech once gave birth to a pegasus (the pegasus later rejoined his physical form somehow- it's rather vague about this point- which is why we've never seen physical evidence of it, so this text claims).

And then you reach a collection of poems dedicated to Saint Cichol. Your eyes scan the page, narrowing as they proceed. With each line, your face warms to a darker shade of red. It's... shockingly salacious. A fertility God? Goddess blessed manhood of awe-inspiring proportion? Virility that fills barren riverbeds?!

You're so consumed by the collage of erotic imagery conjured into your mind that you barely hear the door open behind you.

"My apologies for the delay. I hope you haven't been waiting terribly long."

"Oh- not at all!" you say, turning to face Seteth as he enters. The stress of the work day is smoothed over by the warmth of his smile on seeing you. But he must notice something strange about your expression, as his brows furrow in curiosity. Then, he notices the book in your hands.

"Goddess help me- of all of the books you could have-" he quickly strides towards you and seizes it from you, tossing it back to its pile, "Please assure me that you didn't take any of that- that filth to heart." he says, his face twisted in exasperation as he runs a hand through thick green hair.

"Seteth, relax," you say with a gentle smile, "I figured it was all a bit..."

"Baseless conjecture is what it is- and heretical, at that," he says with disgust, crossing his arms and rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "Clearly I ought to have been more prompt in disposing of these particular texts."

You sympathize with his frustration, to be certain. Still. Your eyes can't help wandering up and down his frame before you and... you wonder.

"So... there's no truth to anything in there?" You step towards him and silently urge him to open his arms to you. He sighs and leans back against his desk with his hands gently at your waist.

"Nonsense, all of it- particularly that part about 'barren riverbeds' or some such." Despite his mood, his face flushes red at the reference to such claims on his own potent virility. You're not even fully conscious of the smirk spreading across your face, but you lean against him and run your hands slowly up his firm chest. Seteth has been rather demure about intimacy thus far. As of yet, you've hardly even seen beneath the starched collar of his robes. Perhaps this is the time to learn a little more about him.

"That book claims that you're the patron of fertility." you prod further. His chest rises as he inhales slowly, and you swear you can feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.

"Yes, well- it was a... fringe belief several centuries past. I am- Saint Cichol is the only noted figure in the church known to have produced a child," you hum with interest, and by now, your body rests against his, and your hands have traveled down his torso. Seteth rambles on, glancing to the side and attempting the same tone he would use with a student, "the elemental association with the earth was also a factor, so I- I was... often prayed to for blessings of..."

One gentle hand reaches below his belt, and you gaze up at him for any sign of resistance or hesitation. He doesn't stop you, and doesn't look like he wants to. Your touch travels beneath his outer robes, between his thighs, where you immediately feel the heat of his manhood beginning to resist the confines of his clothing. You palm the impressive bulge, noting that even half-soft, he carries more than most men do at their full size. Seteth's posture stiffens, his eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you. With an odd rasp in his throat, he whispers your name. Then, he pulls you close and kisses you with an intensity you'd always suspected he had in him somewhere.

As his lips press to yours, massaging yours slow and firm, your tongue grazes his, tentatively at first. He responds enthusiastically, tilting his head to kiss you more deeply and running his tongue sensually against yours. You moan into his mouth, the friction between your bodies absolutely intoxicating, and your hand begins to stroke his manhood more firmly from atop the barrier of his clothing. His length hardens to your touch, growing in your hand as though to plead for more. Parting from his lips just enough to speak, you murmur,

"How long has it been since someone properly worshipped you, 'Saint Cichol?'"

Seteth's voice catches in his throat as he repeats,

"Worshipped...?"

Before he can question you further, you carefully lower onto your knees before him. Your touch is slow and indulgent as you enjoy the feeling of his now-massive cock straining against his pants. Looking up to meet his eyes, you see him thoroughly transfixed by the sight of you prostrate beneath him, and your lips curl into a wolfish grin. Both of his hands come to grip the edge of the desk behind him as you part his robes and tug down the hem of his trousers.

The sight of that tower of flesh springing free to loom over you immediately sends urgent arousal flooding through your burning body, and you fail to hold in an excited whimper. Your pupils grow wide as you size him up with unabashed hunger in your gaze, and you can't even bring yourself to notice how tightly your fists are clenched around the front of his clothes.

"Goddess, Seteth-!" you gasp out, bringing a hand to wrap around his cock at the base, "You're so big...!"

He clears his throat, shyly turning his face away, as though he could possibly hide his conspicuous blush and flustered expression.

"I, er... thank you, I suppose..." he says softly.

"I can't even get my hand all the way around it..." you go on with evident awe in your voice. Slowly, savoring each impossibly thick inch, you slide your hand up the length of his shaft and down once more. Seteth inhales deeply. He must be rather sensitive; in fact, you wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't been with someone intimately in some time.

"Are you... are you certain that you want this?" he asks, finally allowing his eyes to meet yours directly. You almost laugh.

"Seteth," you say as though scolding him, "I'd want to pleasure you regardless, but now that I know you have such an incredible cock, I can't think of anything I want more." He bites his bottom lip, his knuckles white as his fists clamp hard on the desk. Your smirk becomes only wider and more devious. Despite himself, he's clearly enjoying your praise.

"I can certainly see how this gorgeous cock would inspire... devotion, of a kind," you say, your hand traveling his length once more, this time merely to appreciate its shape and size. He groans softly, still fighting desperately to hold his voice in. With a feather-light touch, you run a single finger along the underside of his shaft, tracing a prominent, bulging vein. "I've never seen another that's even come close to yours, Seteth," you say, jerking your hand slightly at its base, "it almost seems a shame to keep it all to myself. Surely there are plenty who would like the chance to worship and adore their beloved Fertility God."

If your blaspheming bothers him any, he can't bring himself to reprimand you for it. Instead, he murmurs,

"I've no desire for any but you."

In reply, you press a chaste but lingering kiss to the crown of his cock. Seteth utters a shaky sigh of pleasure, and his length twitches subtly in reply. You raise your eyes to look up at your Saint.

"Can I taste it?"

"You may." he says softly. His stern brow is deeply creased with intense focus as you begin to work your lips around the head of his cock. It strikes you immediately how even wrapping your mouth around him only highlights how thoroughly this massive pillar puts any other to shame.

Seteth breathes out your name in a low, heated voice you've never heard from him before as you suck at his tip. Your lips seal around the ridge of his crown and you circle and flick him with your tongue, lapping at him all over until you feel his member throb for you. Each twitch and flex of his length is more powerful and more potent than the last, driving you to keep servicing him, to seek out those wonderful affirmations of pleasure.

By the time you dare to try taking him further into your mouth, your body leans against his legs, your hands clinging to his muscular thighs for leverage. Though, perhaps you've become over-eager; as you push yourself onto him, his cock burrows deeper and deeper, hitting your throat and then continuing to fill it. You struggle to open up for him as much as possible, grimacing as you fight your gag reflex. You're just barely past half of his full length, and he's pressing out against your throat enough to create a visible bulge. Seteth's body arches and his head tilts back as he groans your name. Then, you're forced to release him and come up for air.

Panting softly, you mutter,

"Damnit, I can't even reach the base."

"You... should not force yourself..." Seteth manages between strained breaths. As he steadies himself against the desk, you switch your focus for the time being. You begin at the root of his cock and drag your tongue up along the underside, following that same lovely vein you discovered earlier. With open adoration in your eyes, you go on to service him thoroughly with your tongue, licking and kissing every powerful, masculine inch of his rod. Then, when he's well and completely covered in your saliva, you grip the base and lead the tip to your mouth once more.

Dedicating yourself once more to your worship, you suck on his cock eagerly while steadily stroking what amount of it you can't reach in your hand. Your saliva slickens his shaft so that your hand can pump him steadily as your lips and tongue adore his tip in tandem. Seteth gasps aloud, his head leaning back once more to moan out his pleasure into the quiet of his quarters. Just once, you feel his hips buck toward you just a little- but he grits his teeth and holds himself in place, evidently worried for your comfort even now.

You increase your pace, wrapping your mouth tight and warm and wet around his enormous member, ever encouraged by Seteth's beautiful moans. Your tongue presses along the bottom of his shaft, causing him to rub firmly along the top of your mouth with every pass, and by now, you've even surprised yourself with your near obsessive desire to please him. Perhaps there was something to this "Fertility God" angle after all.

"If you... if you don't stop, I-!" Seteth bucks against you once more, and once more he fights to keep himself still, "I won't... be able to hold back...!"

Needing a way to assuage his doubts without pulling away from your sacred duties, you redouble your efforts instead. You take his thick cock into your throat until it hurts, threatening to make you choke each time you force yourself onto him, but you hold fast. The full length swells and throbs from tip to base, and Seteth is crying out your name like a plea. The strength of his grip actually causes the desk supporting him to creak, but you can't be bothered to care- you need him to cum for you, you're desperate for it.

Then, finally, with a tortured groan and a few choice words you didn't realize Seteth had in his vocabulary, his body trembles and his orgasm takes hold of him. Thick, hot cum pours into your throat, and you immediately swallow the first couple of shots, but it's not long before you're completely overwhelmed. Perhaps you should have eased up, rather than continuing to stroke and milk him with your free hand, but the dizzying thrill of his climax seems to be affecting you as well. When you simply can't take any more of him in your mouth, you pull away and allow him to spill the rest across your chest.

You look up at him from your worshipful position beneath him. You imagine you make for a sinful sight, subservient to his cock and now a mess of saliva and cum. And there is a moment- a brief, fleeting moment- when you can see something fiery and animalistic in Seteth's gaze as he regains himself enough to check on you. Yet he quickly suppresses it, and says,

"I- I apologize, I allowed myself to get carried away, and-"

"Seteth, please," you say with a laugh as you shakily rise to your feet, "it's just a bit of cleanup. A small price to pay for the chance to finally pleasure you."

He smiles sheepishly in return, helping to steady you, then placing a light kiss to your lips.

"I hadn't realized that you were so eager for the opportunity," he says, stroking a lock of your hair back into place, "If you will allow, I'd be honored to clean you up a bit and then return the favor."

"That sounds positively divine." you reply, and you're swiftly lifted into Seteth's arms and carried towards his private bath. Your knees still ache from the hardwood floor, but you hardly consider it for a moment. You're already looking forward to the next opportunity to show your devotion to your Saint.

[blu-joons]

DAD SUPER JUNIOR A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Choi Siwon

A ⇴ AFFECTION

As expected from Siwon, he was incredibly affectionate towards you and your bump always making sure that you felt loved by him and comforted whenever he had his arms wrapped around you or his lips pressed against you.

B ⇴ BUMP

Siwon always made sure to do plenty of research about the different stages of pregnancy so that he knew what he could do as a father to help you out with your bump. He was willing to try anything so as long as it helped ease some of the uncomfortableness that you felt, no matter how hard or long it was, he would give it a try for you.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS

Whenever you craved anything, Siwon would fetch it in a heartbeat, knowing how irritable you could be when your cravings got particularly bad. Whatever it was, at whatever time, Siwon would make it his responsibility to get it to you as quickly as possible so that you could stay calm and eat with a smile on your face.

D ⇴ DUE DATE

Whilst your due date always played in the back of your mind, Siwon tried his hardest to distract you from thinking about it too much. The more uncomfortable you became, the more you were hoping that your due date would be the date that your baby arrived, but Siwon was a little more rational than you, knowing that there was a strong chance that would happen, he didn’t want you to hold onto false hope just in case.

E ⇴ EMOTIONS

From the very start of your relationship Siwon had expressed his desire to be a good father one day when the time was right, deep down he always hoped that the time would be right with you too. So, when he found out that you were pregnant, he was beyond excited, promising himself and you from the very start that he would always be there to help you and support you with absolutely anything that you needed.

F ⇴ FAMILY

His niece especially was beyond excited when the two of you told her that you were having a baby, it was mainly thanks to her that you had seen a glimpse into how Siwon would be as a father which you left you so excited to start a family of your own with him. She couldn’t wait to have a cousin to play with, whilst the rest of his family were excited to see him take on the role of father as well as being the cool uncle.

G ⇴ GENDER

Siwon left it entirely to you to decide whether you found out the gender of your baby or not, no matter which way you decided, he was going to be happy. Boy or girl, he didn’t mind at all, but as it was a bit more of a bigger deal for you, he allowed you to be the one to make the decision on behalf of the two of you.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT

Although he wasn’t quite sure what to expect from listening to your baby’s heart, Siwon never imagined that his heart would be so full when he eventually heard the sounds. They were gentle and fragile, never did he imagine that a heart could beat so small, especially that that belonged to his baby.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

He was forever reminding you that he loved you before you fell pregnant, but after you fell pregnant it gave him the incentive to remind you just that little bit more. He was forever muttering those three words in moments of silence between you both to constantly remind you just how special you were to him.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There was never a chance that Siwon would allow himself to feel jealous of anything or anyone when he was witness to one of his biggest dreams beginning to unfold. He was never going to let anything get to him whilst you were pregnant, he was determined to enjoy every single moment of it, and best of all he was looking forward to when your baby would arrive and the moment, he’d finally get to say that he was a dad.

K ⇴ KICKS

With Siwon always so affectionate towards you, it was very rare that he’d miss any of the kicks that your baby let go of. In fact, it was more peculiar for Siwon to hug you and not feel a kick from your baby at some point, his arms were often attached around your waist with a strong refusal to ever let go of you too.

L ⇴ LABOUR

It was the one part of pregnancy that Siwon wasn’t looking forward to, labour was far from something he wanted to be a witness to, but it had to be done in order for your baby to arrive. Beforehand, he had done plenty of research on all the techniques that he could use as a support in order to be there for you and reassure you, even if he couldn’t quite take the pain away as he wished he could.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS

There was never a doubt in Siwon’s mind to not be by your side as soon as he heard you in the bathroom in the mornings. Most mornings he would wake up early just so he could be awake for when you’d inevitably dart out of the room and across to the bathroom with him following swiftly behind you into the room.

N ⇴ NURSERY

Your nursery was crucial to Siwon, he knew that it had to be perfect, and no one would be able to do as good a job as him. Secretly, he loved being able to show off to you too, proving how strong and masculine he was whilst building.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Siwon was obsessed with your eyes and how bright they were most of the time with excitement. You tried to remain as positive as he did most of the time, looking forward with a spring in your step and fresh colour in your eyes.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH

He was incredibly attentive to everything that you needed after you gave birth for a good few days, although Siwon didn’t want to treat you as if you were incapable of doing anything, he was certainly aware of when you might try to push yourself too quickly or perhaps need a bit of help but be too stubborn to ask him for it.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Morning and night Siwon would always ask how you were, in the mornings he’d be keen to know if you slept much, and at night he’d always make sure that you were comfortable to try and at least get some rest in you.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Siwon was keen to keep a part of your childhoods in your baby’s, and so when designing your nursery, he asked both sets of parents if they had items from when the two of you were children that he could incorporate into the nursery to pass things of yours down to your child and keep special items in the family.

S ⇴ SCANS

Your scan photo always kept the same spot every time a new one was given to you, in the pocket of his wallet. It was safe and that way he always made sure that he had it on him too to look at when he wanted to. He wasn’t someone that filled your house with scan photos, preferring to keep them as special items between the two of you.

T ⇴ TEST

For a little while you hadn’t been feeling yourself, and so when Siwon came home with a pregnancy test you were convinced he’d gone a little mad, only for it to turn out that his instinct had served him very well.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND

He always made sure to go to every single one of your appointments, taking the day off too to make sure that he didn’t run the risk of missing one.

V ⇴ VISITS

The two of you kept things very private in your new little bubble for a couple of weeks before you invited people round. The two of you waited until you had settled into a bit of a routine and then welcomed friends and family to your home.

W ⇴ WAITING

He was incredibly patient, just knowing that he was going to become a dad was enough for Siwon to hold out until your baby made their arrival.

X ⇴ XXXX

With him being so affectionate with you, it was a given that Siwon would often shower you with kisses as well. When he was particularly handsy with your bump, he would kiss you the most so that you didn’t feel forgotten.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his love; he had promised himself to protect you and your baby forever.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Night-time tended to be when Siwon would try and hold you the most in order to make you feel safe within his hold and also so that his hands could rest against your bump to try and keep it settled in order for you to rest.

---

Masterlist

[dreamescapeswriting]

Early Arrival ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

GENRE: Fluffy, first time parents, early labour, family Au!

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ahh I’m sorry it’s so short but I hope this is okay for you!!! I’m so glad to be doing requests again too! Hopefully this is good for you! 💕💕💕

"Are you sure it's okay for you to be here?" Namjoon questioned as you sat on the leather sofa in the idol lounge of the BigHit building. You knew he was just trying to look out for you but Jungkook had cooped you up at home so much you were ready to go insane. The thought of spending another second in the silent house was enough to make you want to pull your own hair out, or at the very list rip Jungkook's head off depending on where your hormones were when he came home every night.

"Perfectly fine, I'm not due for another couple of weeks and if I have to spend another second at home I will cry." You whined at him as Soobin came into the room, you'd sent him to go and get you something from the canteen.

"You're a star," You giggled as the boy blushed coming over to your side with the plate of food he'd gotten for you. All of the idols in the building had been obsessed since the moment you got pregnant, Nana - Im Jin-ah - and Soobin had been the ones looking after you a lot whenever you went to the building. It was sweet to see that everyone was going to act like a big family around you and Jungkook with the new baby on the way.

"Can I have some?" Jungkook asked, reaching over to your plate only to be met with a smack to the top of his hand when he got too close.

"You wouldn't go and get it, poor Soobin had to." You cooed, taking one of the spring rolls from the plate you pushed it into Soobin's mouth but he almost choked as he inhaled at the same time.

"Now look what you've done Guk," You started laughing halfway through your sentence and then winced in pain which didn't go unnoticed by every single person in the room.

"What was that?!" Namjoon panicked as he watched you closely, you shook your head at him as you handed the plate back to Soobin.

"N-Nothing, I've had Braxton hicks all morning." You grumbled as you helped yourself up from the sofa, rubbing your lower back as it started to hurt more. That morning you'd woken up with back pain and leg pain but it was nothing new, you were pregnant so everything inch of your body was hurting.

"You're sure it's Braxton hicks?" Nana questioned as she looked up from her phone at you, Jungkook was standing up slowly as he stood beside you.

"I'm positive. I'm not even due yet, the baby wouldn't come now." You laughed softly not knowing if you even believed the words yourself, the truth was you had no idea what labour was really like since this was your first child with Jungkook.  Jungkook seemed to relax once you said that you were positive,

"She's right, we're not due for a couple of weeks. The doctor and the birthing classes all say Braxton Hicks are normal." Jungkook kicked his legs up onto the coffee table and began eating the food from your plate that Soobin was still holding.

"I think I'm going to go and get some air," You breathed out as you felt another pain racing through your back, Namjoon eyed you up careful as you began to waddle towards the door. There wasn't much walking you could do anymore since you were almost nine months pregnant, waddling was the best you could accomplish right now.

"Here, you'll need this." As Nana reached you to bring you a small jacket that was when you felt a warm liquid drip down your leg and you whimpered,

"Y/n? W-What's wrong?" She questioned before her eyes fell down to the floor to see some water hitting the ground,

"F-Fuck...Jungkook!" You cried out as you felt a pain reaching through your lower back and spreading.

"It's happening, Soobin and Namjoon out. Nana you can stay," Jungkook began barking out orders as he raced over to you, slowly sitting you down on the leather sofa where you began shaking your head.

"No, No! It's not time yet, I still have a couple of weeks." You whimpered out as you tried to stand back up but Nana and Jungkook both held your down on the sofa,

"You need to start timing the contractions princess, as soon as they get five minutes apart and last longer than 30 or 70 seconds we have to go." Jungkook was spurting out facts that he'd learnt in all of the classes but you were too focused on the pain that was radiating throughout your entire body.

"I'm not ready, it's not time." You panted out as the contraction finally stopped, you laid your head back against the sofa and began shaking your head.

"Baby, we don't make the rules on this. If the baby is coming the baby is coming," He whispered sympathetically to you as he wiped some sweat that was already starting to form on your forehead.

"N-Nana, tell him it's not time, tell him I can go home. I-I'm not ready." You began sobbing as you looked at her, her eyes were filled with sympathy as she looked back at you. Holding onto your hand as you wept at her shaking your head telling them over and over again that you're not ready to do this.

"You're more than ready Y/n, you're going to make a wonderful mother," Jungkook whispered as he placed his head against yours, smiling at you as he whispered words of encouragement to you.

"You won't leave my side right? Y-You'll be in the delivery room!?" You questioned as you looked into his eyes, he chuckled softly at the panicked expression on your face but nodded his head. There was nothing on this planet, or in this universe that would stop him from going into that room with you.

"Of course, I won't leave you for a second baby." He whispered as he kissed your cheek softly, looking up at Nana who was getting her phone out ready to time the contractions.

A full eighteen hours later and you were in the hospital cradling your sleeping baby girl in your arms. The contractions had been drawn out so long that you ended up getting into the hospital at 2 am and even then delivery wasn't for another couple of hours.

"She's adorable," Jungkook whispered as he stood beside your bed looking down at his daughter, you smiled up at him as a nurse came into the room ready to lay her down in the nursery.

"Did you call the others?" You said right between a yawn, he nodded at you brushing small hairs out of the front of your face,

"They're on their way. Nana said she had to stop at home first and get something." You knew what she was doing, the whole time throughout your pregnancy she'd been buying gifts for a girl. Even though no one, not even you nor Jungkook, knew what you were going to have. It was all supposed to be a big secret but Nana said she always knew.

"You did good," He chuckled at you as he sat down beside you in the chair, you laughed weakly as you laid back in the bed.

"So when are we having another?"Jungkooked questioned only to be met with a playful glare from you as you shook your head.

"Not for another four or five years, unless you're willing to get pregnant." You joked at him, closing your head and wanting to drift off to sleep. The reason you'd delivered "early" so to speak was that the midwife who had first scanned you for your due date had gotten the dates wrong. She'd set you back in pregnancy making it seem as though you were further behind than you were, the doctor told you that it was no big deal,

"In my experience, no babies ever come on time," Yours just happened to be an early arrival, unlike her father who was always late for everything. 

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Part 17

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

A/N: It is here! So sorry for the late update lovelies! I’ve been having really bad writers block lately and my job keeps switching my hours up so now my sleep schedule is all fucked up. And after writing this part I want to go stargazing so bad but the light pollution kind of sucks where I live. 🥲 Also this is my first time writing a steamy scene so I’m sorry if it’s awkward. Feedback is much appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 😊

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appears at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, angst, some foreplay and making out

You had still been wrapped in Zemo’s arms, the two of you indulging in each other’s presence in a silence, which combined with the faint beating of his heart, you only found to be comforting. The meteors still swept by the earth’s atmosphere above you in flashes that lit up the sky, leaving behind trails of white that resembled the strokes of a brush, as if your mother Asteria had painted the celestial bodies using diamonds onto a canvas that was the night sky. You could only make out the few stars and constellations that were scarcely scattered across the vastness above you, caused by the light pollution that unfortunately managed to mantle the wonders and beauty that settled just beyond, separating humanity from the marvels of the universe. The stars flickered like the diminishing of the flame of a candle, a farewell to the billions of years lived by the remnants of those enormous spheres of hot plasma, thus leaving behind the birth of other stars to fulfill their legacy. However, there was a certain star that did not flicker like the ones around it, a certain spectacle distant in time and space that still managed to burn bright despite the innumerable amount of light-years that separated Earth from it. The remaining light of your planet Olympus. You stared at that particular star, your brows knit together and your face etched with this certain melancholy that one could not explain. How could one thing be so near, within the reach of your fingertips, and yet be entirely outside the capacity of reach.

“Draga.” You heard Zemo softly speak, his chest slightly wavering beneath your cheek from his words.

“Hm?”

“Something troubles you.”

“What makes you say that?” You stared off, your eyes still fixated to the fading existence of your world.

“Your eyes draga.” Zemo looked down at you, his eyes scanning over the troubled creases that masked your features. “I have seen this shadow in your eyes that has seemed to occupy them as of recently. What troubles you?”

“…………You see that star there, right between those two constellations?” You pointed above you.

“Mhm.” Zemo nodded as he followed the line of your finger, his eyes now focused on the same exact star yours have not yet left.

“That’s my planet………Olympus.”

“You’re welcome to tell me about it if you’d like.”

“Well, when I was little, I used to live with my mother in this quaint cottage by the sea, similar to the one I live in now with my daughter. She used to bring me out most nights for stargazing. She had built this outdoor platform with bedding and blankets and we would have a small fire going to keep us warm as we watched the stars and constellations while she told me different tales and epic poetries. As silly as it sounds, she would make shooting stars appear in the sky for me knowing how much I loved them. Gods, I wish you could’ve seen my home back in its days, back when everything still remained. Everything was so…..beautiful, and the skies, gods the skies, you could see the different planets and galaxies as if they were only miles away. To this day, I have yet to see anything in my travels that compares.”

“I would have loved to seen it Schatzi. Your mother sounded like a wonderful person.”

“She was the kindest soul I knew.” You turned your body so that you could look up at him, resting your chin on your hand.

“You miss her.”

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my family and planet.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to them Schatzi. I wish you never went through what you did.”

“If only I could bring them back. I’d do anything to be able to just see them again.”

Zemo was silent, believing that no amount of words could have provided you comfort, no matter how deep the meaning or how significant. He could not imagine what you went through. He had lost his country and his family, and you had lost your family as well, but you lost your world, your entire race, leaving you to be the last remaining entity of your people, the last Olympian and the last Chthonian. Words could not bring your family back, just as they could not with his. So he only did what he was able, making a silent unspoken promise within the abyss of his damaged heart to be there for you as he held you closer to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A sudden feeling of guilt crawled up your spine like a venomous scorpion ready to sink its stinger in your skin with means to cause nothing but pain and suffering. You felt guilty for being here, lying next to Zemo wrapped in his arms like a pair of star-crossed lovers from the pages of a novel. A part of you felt selfish for what you did, undeserving of the affection that was bestowed upon you from a man who had suffered enough from the loss of his family. How much longer did you think you could give in to your mindless emotions without a single thought of the consequences it might bring about. Did you really think you could go on as if nothing is happening? As if you can conceal your true form from him forever. No. You could not. You did not have the heart to keep such knowledge from him. If you wanted to pursue what you had with him, you would have to tell him the truth when the time came.

“We should probably get back before Sam and Bucky notice.” You mumbled, blinking back the tears, your heart aching to go back to the way things used to be, wishing you could leave all of this and just be able to go back home. You didn’t belong here on earth, an immortal amongst mortals. At least on Olympus, if your titaness form had been revealed, many would not have bat an eye. They had already seen the likes of Titans before and the locals had become accustomed to you. But here on earth, you were nothing but a stranger, a drifter.

The two of you walked back to his place in silence, the only sounds being the whistling of the wind, the chirping of crickets, the voices of the few pedestrians and the humming of the cars that drove by. Your hands brushed against each other, craving to intertwine your fingers with his as you walked down the stone paved streets lit by the lamps that lined it, the two of you still withdrawn despite what occurred between you both. You felt it would have been silly, holding his hand like a couple of teenagers, though a century ago, you wouldn’t have gave it a second thought.

You arrived at his place, standing at the bottom of the steps in front of the double doors with Zemo opposite you, illuminated by the street lamp that stood just behind. Feelings of conflict washed over you, drowning you in waves of despair. As much as you wanted to be with him, a small part in the back of your mind kept telling you that it was wrong. Neither of you wanted to go through those doors just yet, wishing you could have spent the night under the stars. But life seems to have a way of working against your favor. The Wakandans would be here to collect him possibly tomorrow, and you would have to bid him farewell, separated from each other for what could be forever. As much as you did not look forward to that moment in having to turn him in and never see him again, you wouldn’t stop the Wakandans from what they were promised. And though you hadn’t said a word, Zemo had already knew what your decisions were regarding it, and he could not blame you for it. You were a woman of justice and you followed a code, and he respected that.

“Zemo.” A frown appeared on your face.

“Please,” Zemo whispered to you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Call me Helmut.”

You looked at Zemo once more, a look of longing hidden behind your eyes as you unconsciously swiped your tongue across your mouth, watching how his eyes followed the movement before lingering on the wetness of your lips that resembled the petals of a rose after the pouring of cold rain in the midst of spring. Oh how he wished to be the drops of rain that were gifted the pleasure of grazing upon the velvety petals that belonged to such beauty of a flower, a symbol of union between the two domains in which the heavens came down to declare its love for the earth. A pulling sensation filled within your core, drawing yourself to Zemo as if he were the sweet berries of deadly nightshade that have lured many unfortunate souls. Banishing the thoughts of doubt that clouded your mind, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Zemo was initially shocked by your bold gesture and stiffened from the way your mouth moved against his, surprised you would pull something like this when just a wall away Sam and Bucky were awaiting your arrival, before loosing himself into your embrace.

Your fingers clenched the collar of his sweater and your fingers grazed across the exposed skin of his neck while his hands went to your waist in a desperate attempt, fumbling to grab at anything and bunching up the bottom fabric of your sweater as he pulled you against him. The tips of his fingers brushed against the skin of your waist that was exposed below the hem of your sweater, leaving behind goosebumps in its trail. You smiled into the kiss from the way he completely melted under your touch, a part of you amused from the affect you held over him as you managed to elicit a moan from deep within his throat. Zemo’s brows were furrowed in the passionate moment, something you have noticed when you first kissed him, a small crease in the muscles of his face that showed just how lost he was when encased in this moment with you, and it absolutely melted you. He was addicted from the warm numbness, the ecstasy he felt from kissing you. Your lips were like heroin to him, leaving him yearning for more, and it didn’t ameliorate the fact that his years spent in a German prison had left him somewhat inexperienced and filled with a chasmic longing for touch and intimacy from the lack thereof. Deep within him, masked by his ideas and objectives, Zemo wanted to be able to love someone again, a chance at a new life and a family, and perhaps, he saw that possibility with you. But, behind the passion of the kiss you shared with him, there was something else, a poison that laced your lips with feelings of despair and forbidding that consumed you as if you had tasted those sweet berries of nightshade, slowly loosing yourself to its malice. His lips which were at first warm to the touch, now felt cold like ice and sent shivers of dread through your veins, as if this would be the last kiss you shared with him.

You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, your teeth softly grazing against his bottom lip as you did so. Both of you were left breathless as you rested your foreheads against each other, panting as your breaths fanned each other’s face as if you had just been trapped in the depths of the ocean before breaking through the surface to allow oxygen to fill your lungs.

“If you keep doing that Draga.” Zemo rasped between breaths, “I won’t be able to compose myself.”

“Good. Maybe I don’t want you too.” You smirked before placing a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “But I really should go back inside, and you should do the same. Just make sure you go unnoticed.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders, his cologne that lingered on his fur collar leaving your senses with discontent as you returned his coat to him before going over to the doors, stopping to turn back to him with a smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. Gods, what the hell did you do that for???? You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you wanted to slap yourself for pulling a move like that.

“Gods I’m stupid.” You muttered to yourself.

“Hey.” Bucky smiled once he spotted you, his voice soft as if he were afraid you would shatter at any moment from the discussion that took place earlier. “How was your walk?”

“It was nice, relaxing. I went to the park to stargaze.”

“That’s good. As long as you feel better.”

“I do, actually. Thanks Bucky.”

“You look flushed. You okay?” Sam noted as he stepped over to you.

“Huh?” You stopped short. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just had to kind of uh power walk back here so you guys wouldn’t get worried. But I’m fine, yeah. Anyways, I’m going to hit the sack since I’m feeling a bit tired. Goodnight you guys.” You waved them off before going to your assigned room, making Sam and Bucky give each other questioning looks before they both shrugged it off.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a breath of relief that they had not caught on to anything and praying that Zemo had managed to sneak in. You had just gotten off the phone with Maze and your daughter, catching up on their activities after cleaning yourself up and changing into your nightgown. You had pulled up a chair next to the window that was in your room, your feet tucked underneath you and a warm cup of rose and blackberry tea in your hands. Your robe hung loosely off your shoulders as your index finger twirled above the small silver spoon that swirled in your cup, mists of violet wrapping around the handle of the spoon as you used your powers to stir the contents of the tea. You stared out the window onto the old streets of Latvia before glancing down at the teacup that was nestled in your hands, the glow of your eyes reflected off the window pane along with the tiny stars that swirled through the small globe of your necklace your mother gave you. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the moments that passed and the ones that have yet to come.

There was a knock on your door, interrupting you from the thoughts that had resided in your mind. “Come in.” You spoke as you looked through the reflection of the window and saw a figure step in. “Zemo?” You stopped using your powers, the clinking of the spoon scraping against the sides of the porcelain cup coming to a stop. “You know, you gotta stop sneaking into my room.” You teased before frowning, seeing the expression that sat on his face. “What’s wrong?” You got up from the chair, setting your cup down on the table before walking over to him.

“The Wakandans will…….be here for me tomorrow.” His eyes were lowered to the floor, the browns of his irises which reminded you of the dunes of the Sahara desert were whirling in thought, resembling the dunes caught in the midst of the fury of a sandstorm, as if searching for an answer to his troubles.

“Ze-Helmut, I………” You sighed, your tongue and mind lacking the ability to compose any words that might have provided some solace. “I’m sorry………..I don’t know what to say.”

“Y/n, schatzi” Zemo grabbed your hand, tracing his thumb over the bumps of your knuckles. “You don’t have to say a word. My actions………must be accounted for.”

You were silent, your brows knit together and your lips sealed as if your voice was ripped from your throat. Your heart wanted to tear itself from your chest, begging to be released from its cage so that it could be free to lament, so that it may be able to express the words that held it captive. But your tongue was tied, held back between the prison that was your teeth as you clenched your jaw. Zemo’s hand still held yours, stroking the soft skin on the back of your hand which were a contrast to the small rough patches on your palm, before you heard him speak again. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise that he would even ask such a question when you were honestly willing to kiss him any time of the day. The Zemo you had come to know was far different than the one you had heard about, his cold demeanor seemed to completely fade when he was around you, like a fog that dissipated with the coming of daylight. A part of you pondered whether this was how he used to be, before the events that happened. Though he hadn’t had a chance to share such affection with anyone and lost practice, you still found him to be great kisser and it always managed to leave you breathless. “Yes, please.” You whispered, your voice barely audible before you felt his lips brush against yours. What was sweet at first became more feverish and filled with hunger as an unfamiliar spirit seemed to possess your body, darkening the amethysts and golds of your eyes that resembled the galaxies, into the blackness of the abyss that swallowed the outer edges of space where not even the slightest bit of light could reach, almost as if you were sinking your claws into your prey.

A heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, filling your body with an electrifying warmth as his mouth moved against yours more confidently this time, catching you utterly by surprise and leaving your knees weak, a feeling similar to the stillness in the air a mere second before lightning strikes the ground beneath your feet. His hands slipped down to grab the flesh of your waist, dehydrated, and filled with an intense thirst that could only be quenched by your body that was the ocean, your skin separated by the silk fabric of your nightgown. Your hands went up to grip his shoulders as a gasp escaped your lips upon feeling him move down to your jaw and neck. Gods, since when was the last time you were touched like that?

“Helmut.” You rasped, struggling to hold back a moan as his lips sucked on the skin where your collarbone met your neck, making you lean your head back to allow him better access. Your robe had fell to the floor, leaving your arms completely bare while Zemo’s hands caressed the skin that lined them before resting on the dorsal part of your upper arms, the combination of the frigid air and his fingertips that felt like the touch of fire sending shivers through your body. “What if they hear?”

“Let them.”

“No……….I’m…….serious.”

“Well if you’re that worried Draga.” Zemo stopped to look at you. “The walls are thick enough.”

Gods that completely sent you over the edge. It felt as if you were on a high, your mind was not even within this dimension as Zemo met your lips again. You had to throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from collapsing as the two of you shifted in the room, Zemo guiding your body before the back of your knees came in contact with the side of your bed. You let yourself fall back into the soft mattress, bringing Zemo down with you. You both were a mess, your hair disarray, the thin straps of your nightgown fallen past your shoulders had almost left your breasts exposed, and the skirt of your nightgown had ridden up to your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Zemo squeezed at the soft flesh of your thigh before attacking your neck again. He didn’t know how to describe it but you tasted absolutely divine. Perhaps being a goddess made you taste of ambrosia; the golden, honey-flavored fruit that grew on the trees of Olympus. You were in absolute bliss and thanked the gods he wouldn’t be able to leave a mark, at least you hoped not.

“Helmut.” You moaned, your nails digging into his biceps as his warm lips made a trail down your collarbone and lower to where the lace trim of your nightgown met just above the curve of your breasts, lingering on the space between, filling your mind with thoughts of a certain region you desired those lips to be. “Fuck.” You hissed from the contact, your hand moving its way to his head as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, your nails raking across the back of his scalp as the heat between your thighs only grew. You unconsciously pressed your heel to the lower part of his back, beckoning him closer to that heat between your thighs as you bucked your hips up. Zemo growled at the movement, slightly nipping at the skin where your breast had started to form, causing you to gasp and your eyes to fly open from the sensation.

“Apologies draga.” You heard him mutter before tenderly kissing the spot where his teeth had been.

Seeing Zemo in a close proximity above you in such a position had you dazed, wanting him to take you right then and there and not caring if the others heard you or not. And as your eyes wandered lazily over the sight of him, they widened in horror once they glimpsed at the image of your hands. Your nails became sharp, claw-like, and that deathly color had returned once again, slowly making its way up your arm like the tendrils of a shadow belonging to a demonic spirit.

“Helmut.” You whispered, your voice becoming panicked as you loosened your grip on his arms, being careful not to pierce his skin. “Helmut wait.”

Zemo stopped, pushing himself up to meet your eyes as his concern grew from seeing the frightened look that filled them. “Schatzi, what’s wrong?” He brought his hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair. “If you’re uncomfortable let me know.”

“No, gods no. If anything I don’t want you to stop.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. “It’s just that………….”

“What is it schatzi?” His voice was soft as his fingers caressed your cheek, afraid that he might have offended you in some way, afraid that he might have been too forward.

“I’m sorry Helmut. I want to, I really do, but not like this.” You shook your head as you got up, shifting over to where the dark shadows of the room fell on the bed to hide your arms, afraid to meet his eyes as if you had made a fool of yourself. “Not like this.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me y/n.” Zemo smiled at you. “If you’re not ready, than I’m not ready.”

“Thank you Helmut.” You smiled back before giving him a delicate kiss. “I’d………uh like to think some things through.” You prayed that he didn’t see your hands, hoping that the darkness of the room managed to disguise it.

“Of course draga.” Zemo placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before leaving your room, stopping at the door to give you a comforting smile as he carefully shut it behind him.

Your eyes still lingered on the door, waiting to make sure he didn’t come back before turning on the bedside lamp and staring down at your hands. You had managed to stop the color from spreading up your arm, yet it strangely still remained, stopping halfway up your forearm. This wasn’t good.

“What the hell?” You scrunched your nose, trying to use your powers once again to remove it but to no avail. Fear coursed through your veins as you attempted to remove the color, spell after spell, hoping those vine like tendrils would crawl back down your hands and disappear. You cursed under your breath as each attempt proved to be as futile as the one before. What the hell was going on? Why were your spells not working? It vanished before from your magic, why wasn’t it doing so now? You were struck with a sudden realization that perhaps this change would become permanent, that maybe suppressing your true form for all those years had caused it to spiral out of control and in turn try to overpower you as if it had a mind of its own. You growled through gritted teeth, the furniture around you shaking as your fists were clenched in frustration, the violet mists of your powers encompassing your hands and sparking with small bolts that corresponded with the vexation that overwhelmed you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the mist around your hands disappearing and the shaking of the furniture coming to a stop. You had to work something out. You were left no choice but to keep your hands covered from now on until you found a solution. If any of them questioned it, you had to have a damn good lie. Getting up from the bed, you walked over to the double doors that led to the small balcony and opened them, your hands gripping the cold iron rail as you stared out at the view of the Latvian streets and buildings before you. Oh how you wished your sister Athena were here. She knew everything.

“Oh Athena.” You stifled a sob as you stared up at the stars, focusing on the light of your planet as if she could have heard you, a tear cascading down your cheek and dropping to the streets below. “Gods I wish you were here. I really need your help.”

Despite your pleas, you knew she wasn’t there, her existence only an artifact of the past. You were praying to nothing but a memory. It was extremely urgent that you got information on this matter of your form and the words of the prophecy that still threatened and echoed within the depths of your mind. And since you couldn’t obtain such knowledge from another Olympian, you would have to gather it from the old texts. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you waited, searching, until a small white moth came into view, fluttering in your direction. You held out your finger, letting the tiny creature come to rest upon it.

“Hello little one.” You smiled at the moth as you gently stroked it in greeting, bringing it closer to your face so that you could speak to it in your language. “Please send word to my familiar and tell him to gather as much information he can on Titans and the prophecy. And tell him to come find me when he is done. Thank you.” The moth looked at you with understanding behind his tiny black eyes, it’s antennaes twitching before fluttering away into the moon. You sighed, watching it disappear into the night before giving your distant planet one last glance before shutting the doors and going back over to the bed. You laid down under the covers, your hands rested on your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, dreading the day to come. How could you face Zemo? And however were you going to keep your hands a secret? Surely the three are bound to find out sooner or later? You just prayed that the message you sent would be returned in a short time. You needed to fix this before it would be considered too late. And the sooner you found Karli the better. Your mind was racing with thoughts, but you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest and forcing those thoughts away. Gods help you from this moment on.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thehornyles @awhorewithissues @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful @ilovespideyyy @peakyrogers

[0risha]

affiliation.

PAIRING : gojo x fem!reader

SUMMARY : due to the actions of your now ex-lover, getou suguru, your future of becoming a sorcerer is no more and now it's time to say your goodbyes.

TAGS : angst, comfort, unrequited pining, a curse word or two, contains slight manga spoilers so proceed with caution. reader is described as a female?? reader has curly hair

NOTES : this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, hope you enjoy!

Terminated. Terminated? Your first reaction is to cackle, to laugh at the faces that stare right back at you with leering eyes. But the only thing you can choke out is an, "you can’t be serious?” 

Your voice raises several octaves higher than normal and your face is etched with the expression of pure, refined disbelief. Choosing to scan the faces that sit at the circular table shrouded in a low cloud of darkness —which sets the mood in an eerie cinematic way— you find sneered lips and mock smiles.

"Correct, your third year at Jujutsu tech is ending in a week, you can decide for yourself to stay or leave during that remaining time, your choice. Any objections?"

“You’re terminating my contract to become a sorcerer for some incident I wasn’t even involved in?” You internally wince at your dismissive tone because you know that the so-called was not just some incident. It had torn both Getou and Gojo into unsalvageable pieces, thrown towards the deep sea. Getou’s own so bottomless that he had gone on a murdering spree.

One that the higher-ups were blaming you for because as his significant other you should have been the one to stop him. Which —at the start— you thought was so incredibly far fetched but as you pondered past actions you couldn't help but think otherwise.

A lasso of anger —your own— is cracked against the confining walls of the conference room. You think they can feel it, no, you know they can feel the spiked level your cursed energy has entered and Gojo can feel it too because he's bursting through the conference room door, grabbing your arm and hauling ass before you can retaliate.

By the time you're met with a blue sky and the sun's gaze, you have to blink multiple times. One, to become accustomed to the befallen light, and two, to snap out of your stupor.

In your crestfallen state, Gojo takes his time to scan your face. He basks in the way the sliver of the sun causes your skin to glow and the way your slightly pointed nose scrunches up in anger.

In reverence, he skims through his shared memories with you. The start of it all, when you waltzed through Jujutsu Tech with survivor’s guilt so intense that he and the other first-years could feel it. The result of your parents dying in a freak accident, which so happened to be the day you had started to see curses. 

When you snap out of it, you’re met with the sight of electric blue eyes. Ones that shine with an intense shade of worry. And it’s a jubilee because the Gojo Satoru is worried. You’d never seen him in this state, ever. In your state of surprise, your eyes flicker from Gojo’s to a pair of colored onyx.

He remembers your closed-off demeanor that he and Shoko decided to slowly shave off and the way you gravitated towards Getou more than he saw fit and oh gosh, why did it have to be him? He knows that now as a third-year you have no fundamental reason to be in Japan but he can't help but to think selfishly —stay with me.

Because now, after making the selfish decision of not killing his best friend, he's not too sure where the lines of coincidences might meet.

Megumi. I have to leave Megumi.

“Megumi! I didn’t even know you were here!” You smile and pat his tufts of dark hair that fell in all sorts of different directions. 

“You’ve always been so quiet,” you whisper, crouching down to his height as his colored eyes rapidly flutter shut. Although, not being a fan of Gojo or anyone for that matter. Megumi showed signs of slight attachment towards you. Ranging from returned hugs, and shared giggles here and there. The young boy never had a way with words and physical touch, but from time to time he seemed to enjoy your presence. 

The mere thought of having to leave him causes your chest to ache as you stand up from your kneeling position to, again, staring at the clouded sky in the distance. But there was no other resolution, you had to leave Japan. 

In your half-decade of being situated in the bustling streets of Tokyo, you’d grown accustomed to every aspect of the city. You’d made so many bonds. One’s that in a week would be snipped by the scissors of a very cruel fate. 

There was Shoko, a cigarette-addicted teenager that acted more like a nagging mother than a friend. 

Gojo, who had been injected with a childlike aura since birth and acted more like a fussy toddler than the strongest sorcerer there is. 

And Getou, the man your heart mistakenly bled for. He was always such a serious person, even behind closed doors but you never doubted that he loved you. He always chose to express his partiality through gasoline-filled words, ones that you digested and had caused your chest to burst with licking flames of devotion. 

Getou, the same man that had caused you to land in this mess. Albeit, the expulsion of what was supposed to be your future position, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. Only feeling crashing tides of guilt. 

“Not your fault, it’s not your fault.” You're pulled from your thoughts to feel calloused hands attached to your cheeks that are surprisingly wet with your tears. 

Through your blurred vision, you see Gojo’s bright eyes staring into your very own. Megumi’s looking at you with riddled curiosity, you’re sure it’s because he’s never seen you actually cry before but you can’t find it in you to not put your pride aside. And when that layer of chain mail is finally cracked in half, Gojo’s there to shield you. In a split second, he’s bringing you into a gravity-defying hug while you sob into his chest, all while the jut of his chin lays on top of your mass of curls. A bubble of his piney, masculine scent envelopes you all while you taste the salty tears that fall on your lips as you gargle out apologies. 

“I’m sorry, th- that- I couldn’t do anything,” you hiccup. 

“It’s not your fault,” he reassures you and he says it with so much intensity that at least a billion of your nerves transmit the message of truth to your brain.

“No one could’ve known.. for fucks sake, I didn’t even know.” Gojo reminisces, not for the fact that Getou had become a wanted sorcerer but because of that, you had to face the brute consequences.

But to you, His hushed words are a slap to the face because...

Gojo must be hurting too.

Getou was his best friend, his partner through life and death situations but here you were babbling like a baby. 

As soon as your body tenses up and your joints spring to pull your head off his chest, Gojo pulls you even closer, almost as if he can read your thoughts. 

So, the only thing you can hope for is that while both of you embrace, Gojo’s getting enough comfort to tend to his aching wounds. 

"They terminated your contract, eh? You want me to kill them for ya?" Your response is a hearty chuckle, one that stops as soon as it starts because he's serious. And you can tell. Your body itches in the worst possible way as his killing intent leaks out from his crackling hearth. As detected, Megumi grumbles and shifts his feet as he pulls on your skirt.

"Don't be stupid," you whisper as you pull away from his chest and face Megumi to grab his small hand. "Let's go home and see your sister, okay?"

back to m.list

[shoichee]

Hi, congrats on 100!! Could I please request 27 for Kasamatsu? Thank you very much, and good luck on your finals! :D

Kasamatsu x Reader

27. “If we get caught I’m blaming you”

Word Count: 4416

prompt list here

Note: the Replace novel starring the Kaijō team was a HUGE inspiration for this, and dear anon who requested this, I hope you’re still around;; I’m sorry it took so long EEEEE But yes! I did okay on my finals anon! I hope you’re doing well too~

@knb-kreations

»»—————　☼　—————««

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Look it’ll be quick… n-no one’s here as far as I know.”

“B-But…”

“J-Just… be quiet for a s-second, okay?”

“H-H-Huh?! Ah…”

Huh? Kise stopped himself before leaning closer to the edge of the building, slightly doubting his ears. Wasn’t that Senpai’s voice? With someone else…? Alone?

“Oh come on, why are you even block the wa—oh, ohhhhhh, are there any cute girls nearby?—”

“Shh,” Kise hissed, harshly waving his hand over Moriyama’s face to give a signal to stay quiet. “Listen…”

“A-Are you done, Kasamatsu-san…?”

“I-I-I… uh, just…um…”

Kise and Moriyama shared a look of shock… then registration… and finally a look of that spelled nothing but trouble. Immediately, they both simultaneously crouched to squat and share their “realizations” together in hushed whispers.

“Quick—when was the last time Senpai talked to anyone outside of basketball?”

“Hmmmmmm, certainly none of the girls I’ve tried to approach.”

“No, that’s obviously not what I meant!” Kise said, facepalming. “Anyone in your year that he’s been talking to? Maybe anyone in class?” Moriyama continued to hum in deep concentration before he lifted his index finger in a “eureka” moment.

“He’s been talking to (y/n)-san in the hallways recently!” he quietly exclaims, pounding his fist against his open palm to emphasize. “Though their conversations have sounded nothing remotely romantic. No charm, I say.” He struck a pose after to imply that he himself was the charismatic individual.

“.... Right,” he deadpanned, expecting nothing less from his quite… eccentric upperclassman. “Welp, now that we narrowed it down who he might be talking to, I don’t wanna spy on them… but I’m really curious if it’s really this (y/n)-san you mentioned.”

“Well,” Moriyama pouted with a grumble. “One peek wouldn’t hurt.”

“I guess you’re right…”

Kise cautiously scans his surroundings and gauges the situation “clear” to slowly peer from behind the corner of the building, where both of them had been seeking shelter from for the past several minutes. Moriyama follows suit, poking his head out just underneath Kise to see.

Kasamatsu’s back mostly covered your figure, but the view of what was happening did not slip by either Kaijō players’ eyes. He had his arms partially around your head while you were pressed up against his chest. You were gripping onto his loose blazer on his sides to presumably stabilize yourself while Kasamatsu was… fiddling with something on top of your hair? Even so, there’s no denying that the both of you were currently very, very physically close.

“Look… d-does it really take that long to take out petals from hair strands?” you mumbled, looking up at Kasamatsu’s face while trying not to move your head to avoid disrupting his “handiwork.” “I can do this myself....”

“W-W-Well, you can’t risk yourself being unkempt when you go back to class.” Kasamatsu gave a poor attempt at trying to lecture you, judging from his stammers and the way he slightly turns his head to the side to avoid your curious scrutiny. “It’s more thorough this… way. It’s the w-week where these blossoms fall rampantly… you have to be careful where you’re walking under…” In turning his face slightly towards Kise’s and Moriyama’s direction, his exposed flushed face puts the cherry blossom trees around them to shame.

So that’s what he was doing. Kise narrowed his eyes in pity at his captain, and Moriyama expressed a similar expression at Kasamatsu’s struggles. The poor captain’s hands were shaking non-stop. Not only that, he’s been darting his eyes everywhere since you’ve been gazing up at him from below. No wonder he’s been standing there unable to quickly pluck off the petals.

“Should we leave our captain alone to let him lead his own destiny?”

“What are you even talking about, Moriyama-se—”

“W-Whoa!! What a(l)e you [guys doing] he(l)e? Why a(l)e you sneaking a(l)ound (r)ike that?”

Kise and Moriyama instantly whip their heads behind in a panic, seeing a curious Hayakawa jogging up to be with his teammates, and the both instantly pounce on the poor rebound player to slap desperate hands over his mouth.

“Sh-Shhhhhhhhh!”

“Mrmpgh—?!! Lef—What [is going] on?”

“Hayakawa-senpai, please—just be quiet for a sec!”

The ruckus causes Kasamatsu and you to break out of the oddly intimate moment to face towards the direction of the sudden noises. After looking at each other questionably, albeit briefly and with stiff eye contact, there was an unspoken consensus for you two to investigate behind the corner of the building. Imagine both of you guys’ surprise when you two see a tangle of limbs between the Kaijō starter players. Kobori somehow arrived prior, separating poor Hayakawa from his two assailants.

“What… What the hell are you guys doing?!”

“Kasamatsu-senpai!! Is it t(l)ue [that you] and (y/n)-san a(l)e da—mrmf—!”

“Ahaha… we didn’t expect to see you here, Senpai~” Kise smiles with a slight grimace, hand still firm on Hayakawa’s mouth.

“It must be fate, yes surely!” Moriyama confidently speaks, flipping his fringe. Both Kise and Moriyama drop Hayakawa and straighten themselves up. “How else would we encounter such a situation as unique as this?”

“Why are you all here?” Kasamatsu sputters indignantly, but everyone (except you) saw how horrendously red his face was. You peek out from behind his back curiously, noting how Kasamatsu did a 180 in his personality compared to whenever he spoke with you.

“Kasamatsu-san… are they your teammates? You seem very close with them.”

“That’s—”

“Now, now, Kasamatsu-san… we’re only here because we were concerned where you went is all,” Kobori reassures a flustered captain. Kise only stares at him incredulously, but it seems that Kasamatsu, as usual, buys into Kobori’s naivete.

“I see…”

“Wow… the fact that your entire group came to look for you is very sweet of them,” you chime. “They really care for you, Kasamatsu-san…” When you elbow him at his ribs playfully, he immediately straightened himself like a plank.

“N-Nn.”

“Well… it’s almost time for class, so I have to go, see you all!”

“W-Wait, your… uh, hair, um—”

“I can get out the rest of the petals in the restroom, but thank you for trying! I’ll see you later!”

“R-Right…” He puts up his hand in a shy wave as you dash away, but he immediately drops it once you are out of the vicinity to hound on his teammates. “Were you watching this entire time? And stop with the looks—that’s creepy as hell!”

“Sooooooo…”

“Senpai, could it be that you and…”

“Kasamatsu-senpai! I’m (l)ooting fo(l) you!”

“N-N-No!!” he denies, ready to hold an iron fist to stop their antics, but Kobori gently holds onto his raised arm.

“Alright, let’s calm down a bit,” Kobori reasons with a placid smile. “I’m sure we’re all a bit curious because you hardly talk to anyone outside of basketball, right?”

“Kobori…”

“Have you heard of the prerequisites of the key elements of the blooming spring, Kasamatsu?” Moriyama asks, immediately drawing confused looks towards the 3rd-year.

“Moriyama-senpai, we have no clue what you’re talking about,” Kise says, asking the question that’s occupying everyone's mind.

“The key elements…! In the season of new birth, to enrich the experience, they are ‘hanami,’ ‘plums,’ and ‘spring cleaning!’ Of course, the prerequisite to these would be…”

“Please stop—”

“... to have a cute date.”

“... This is ridiculous,” Kasamatsu says irritatedly. “I’m going to class.” He immediately speed-walks to the adjacent building, leaving a scheming group behind.

“You know, if it’s true that he does like (y/n)-san, shouldn’t we help him? It’s the least we can do for our captain,” Kobori suggested.

“That sounds too troublesome,” Kise frowns, averting his gaze to also start to walk away, but Hayakawa immediately latches to his arm to pull him back.

“Don’t be (r)ike that! We have to do this as a team effo(l)t!”

“How did it become like this?!”

“Well…” Moriyama audibly ponders, stroking his chin. “If we make this successful for Kasamatsu, perhaps this can be a template for our own love lives! A sign that we will meet our fated ones this spring!”

“Yes, yes! Mo(l)iyama-senpai is abso(r)ute(r)y (l)ight!”

Oh god, Kise mentally sighs. What has he gotten himself into?

———

“Why are you guys surrounding me like that? Did you not hear me say that we have to change quickly? We can’t have the lockers for long today, considering that the janitor will come to do their routine clean-ups.”

“According to my online research,” Moriyama states, “this mint-scented deodorant will guarantee mutual attraction from the person you like.”

“Wha—?”

“Ignoring what Moriyama-senpai said,” Kise elaborates, scratching his head. “Is it really true that you like (y/n)-san? Otherwise, they’ll keep getting the wrong idea, senpai.”

Kasamatsu gapes like a fish, pulling his shirt collar as he starts to sweat and flush.

“Kise! Be a bit tactfu(r)! You do not unde(l)stand how to app(l)oach this!”

“What’s there to understand, Hayakawa-senpai!? It’s better to be direct about this, or otherwise we’ll be doing this for nothing!”

“Kise may be right,” Moriyama muses. “To be honest gives a feeling of a fresh start in the spring. Kasamatsu, you should follow this example and leave all the baggage behind to obtain a new start.” Kasamatsu could only stand there glued to his spot as his teammates continued to corner him, blocking any possible route to the locker exit.

“I… I…” he gulps. “Th—... that’s… I… like…” His voice dwindles to the softest whisper, but it easily resonates throughout the locker room, where the team had fallen silent in straining to hear and hang onto his every syllable.

“So you do like (y/n)-san,” Moriyama exclaimed, the first one to break the silence. “I see, I didn’t think they were your type.”

“H-Hey…?! Can you not say it like that!?”

“You can’t distort the truth, though. Anyways, you should chat with (y/n)-san nicely.”

“I already do!!” Kasamatsu half-shouts, but he immediately bows his head down shyly. “Wh-What’s a… good topic, you think… to talk to (y/n)-san…?”

“Huh? Just normal topics,” Kise replies, not sure what Kasamatsu meant by the question.

“What’s… normal?”

“Just talk to them like you’ve always done, senpai.”

“Y-Yes, but… h-how can I talk to hint that I l-l-l-like… never mind this is hopeless—”

“Ask them to come watch ou(l) next match [and have] (y/n)-san chee(l) fo(l) you!!”

“N-No! Anyone would run away from that!”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when the locker doors opened with a bang, with a very weary janitor standing with his equipment on standby. With a flurry of apologies to the janitor, Kasamatsu recovers himself and ushers everyone out before bidding him a good evening. Walking out of campus several minutes later in silence, Kobori breaks the silence.

“Why don’t we help you, Kasamatsu? Maybe through different methods you will find the best way to ask for a date. Perhaps asking for a cup of tea would be sufficient…?”

“I’m not gonna involve myself with this! No way in hell!”

“Senpai, so you’re just gonna wait and let it fester—u-uwah?!” Moriyama immediately sprays the mint-scented deodorant down Kise’s back to silence him before turning back to Kasamatsu with a straight face.

“What if someone else steals (y/n)-san away for their own elements of spring? After all, it is the perfect atmosphere for them to communicate with the person you like with pickup techniques, with high chances of success.”

“N-No way (y/n)-san would just go along with a random stranger!”

“Who knows? Maybe they’re more suave and have that particular charisma that they’re secretly weak to.”

“Moriyama-senpai, you might be going too far…”

“Kasamatsu, he’s right though, if you hang around (y/n)-san more, not only would you learn more about them, but you’ll protect them from potential unwanted people.” Kobori’s calm voice rang louder above the clamors of the starter players, and everyone immediately looked to Kasamatsu for his response. Kise mentally sighs at how Kobori always manages to misinterpret Moriyama’s words.

“Fine—but only to make sure (y/n)-san will be safe! Don’t get any funny ideas!”

———

Praise. Make them laugh. Praise. Make them laugh. Say something interesting. Say something interesting. Praise. Use a normal topic.

Kasamatsu stands at his usual spot, waiting for you to leave class and meet up with him after school. Only this time, his hands grow clammy, his thick brows deeply furrowed as he wills himself to stop shaking. His teammates spying on him from behind the hallway corner certainly wasn’t helping him either.

“I told you, there’s no way I’m gonna involve myself with this!”

“Come on, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama sighed, shaking the mint-scented deodorant on hand. “We talked about this yesterday. You agreed to this, remember?”

“It was to make sure no one weird bothers (y/n)-san! Why do I have to go along with this?!”

“So you’re fine if I hold (y/n)-san’s hand in the name of destiny…”

“To hell with that!—argh—you!”

Moriyama immediately sprayed the can on the captain’s neck, watching his spine jolt and jump before he was met with an intense glare.

“You’re the captain, right? Come on, you have to show us how it’s done. We all want to see the ways to push the boundaries of romance. Who would lead us if you don’t?”

“What kinda—”

“I ag(l)ee with Mo(l)iyama-senpai! Take the (r)ead, Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Wouldn’t Kise be someone better to learn from if you wanted to learn how to hit on people?!”

“Senpai, I’ve never done such a thing in my entire life.”

“Kasamatsu, I’m sure Moriyama is just telling you how much we all admire and look up to you. Naturally, we want to see how our captain fares in these situations. Besides, as a team, if something happens, we’ll be there to cover up for you.”

“Well… if you put it like that Kobori… all I have to do is talk to (y/n)-san… right?”

“That’s the spi(l)it!”

“... Kasamatsu-san? Helloooooo…?”

You wave a hand repeatedly over his face, and he immediately blinks and flinches back when you pull him back to the present. He’d been standing still for the past five minutes.

“I-I-I-I…”

“Are you okay? You’re all tensed up… if something’s bothering you, wanna talk about it?”

“W-W-Well… wh-what’s… up.” Normal topic, normal topic.

“Well, nothing much really,” you say, smoothing out your blazer. “I got out the petals but barely made it to class in the nick of time!” You laugh at your own recollection, and he immediately flames a radiant flush.

“N-nn.”

“Is it me… or is our captain…. really, really stiff right now…”

“Shhh.”

You perk up at the noise and slightly tilt to the left of Kasamatsu to discern the source of the hushed whispers… only to spy a conspicuous group of basketball players. You merely raise a brow at your discovery, but you return your attention back to Kasamatsu before he notices your change in gaze. The Kaijō teammates were too busy shushing each other to notice your attention on them.

“Ah, yes! Kasamatsu-san, you just had your trigonometry test right? Those identities and proofs are always so difficult to remember… how do you think you did?”

“G-Good.”

“Wow, that was too quick of a response! I didn’t know you were that confident about it—obviously not a bad thing if you studied for it.”

“N-nn.” Come on, say something interesting. Interesting topic. Something you like. “U-U-Uh… w-weather…?”

“The weather…?” You look outside the window in confusion before you make a face of realization. “Oh! Like how’s the weather?”

“N-nn.”

“Well, it has been a bit windy with all those branches and leaves flying around, but I think it accompanies the refreshing atmosphere of spring very nicely, don’t you think?” You turn back to face Kasamatsu, who’s been slowly bowing his head down gradually more and more the entire time to avoid scrutiny.

“N-nn.”

“You’ve been… really quiet since lunch. I’m serious, if something happened… is there anything I can do to help?”

“Kasamatsu, take advantage of the elements of spring! The elements of spr—”

“Moriyama-senpai, shut… up…!”

“Hey—what are you—?”

“Wait!! Kise! Don’t push, [or else] we a(l)e gonna fa(r)(r)—!”

“Shit—”

Right on cue, the gradual leaning weight from the three players on Hayakawa at the bottom gave way, and everyone tumbled out smack dab into plain sight. Kobori was the only one who managed to break his fall and stayed behind the corner, holding onto Kise in a failed attempt to stop him from exposing his presence. Kasamatsu breaks out of his shy stupor and turns around to see awkward smiles and chuckles.

“Y-Y-You guys—?!”

“Ahaha… sorry Senpai… the floor was a bit… slippery?”

As Kasamatsu forgets about you in dropkicking Kise, you note how the other upperclassmen had their own little quirks in interacting with the captain. Seeing how assertive and gutsy he was compared to talking with you makes you feel unbelievably warm. Little did anyone know, you held a hand to your face as you turned away to let out a chortle before you collected yourself again.

“Ah, I guess I’ll be going now! Your practice will start soon right? I’m sure your friends were only waiting for you… Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Kasamatsu-san!”

“W-Wait—” Kasamatsu drops Kise from his collar before he turns to you, but in making eye contact he immediately loses courage again. “I-I-I… s-see… you.”

“Of course!” You give a close-eyed smile before you leave.

“You missed the opportunity to set up the atmosphere,” Moriyama sighs, staring wistfully at the mint-scented deodorant. “Was the mint scent not enough?”

“It was going fine until you crashed in!”

“Now, now, there’s always a next time…”

As the upperclassmen continue to bicker and banter (mostly one-sided from Kasamatsu’s end), Kise, who was dropped on the floor by Kasamatsu moments prior, silently stares at the direction you left. Did you leave because you knew how embarrassed Kasamatsu was from that incident?

———

For the next few days, Kasamatsu has been quite clipped with you, reduced to mere “nn’s” and “no’s” during your conversations, and Kise doesn’t know whether you’re just as oblivious as Kobori or whether you’re ignoring it to spare his remaining shreds of dignity. He mentally sighs at how oddly persistent Moriyama is about this even though the captain refused all of his ridiculous “suggestions” every time.

“I believe Moriyama is trying to help out Kasamatsu as a close friend,” Kobori had said, when Kise grumbled about his tenacity. “He just wants the best for him.”

Even so, Kise still heaves a sigh when he sees Moriyama and Hayakawa with an agitated Kasamatsu, knowing that whatever is going on won’t be smooth-sailing. He had no choice but to join them when Kobori sneaked up on him to sling an arm around his shoulders and called over the trio.

“Huh… what’s up with Kasamatsu-senpai?”

“Ou(l) captain is af(l)aid [because someone] da(l)ed to app(l)oach (y/n)-san (l)ight now!”

“Huh? Is that really a problem?” Kise shoots a tired look at the rebound player, but Moriyama solemnly sends a gaze to where he assumed was where you were at right now.

“I knew my online research would come in handy…! Someone also has the knowledge of taking advantage of the perfect atmosphere! Look at the intimacy shared between the two…! The undeniable auras exhibited by them, and elements of spring they embody together!”

“What the hell! No way!” Even through the denials, Kasamatsu looks visibly distressed about the possible “new revelations” between you and what looks to be a close companion of yours.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Senpai on this one, Moriyama-senpai.”

“(R)ook! They finished ta(r)king and (y/n)-san waved them [off with] a smi(r)e!” Kasamatsu whips his head at the speed of light to see you sending them off with the smile Hayakawa spoke of as your friend exits the campus gate. At his dilemma, Moriyama gently nudges his arm to encourage him to go talk to you.

“... According to my online research, talking under sunny weather with a fresh scent is the formula to having the desirable spring experience.”

“Oh shut up, will ya?” Kasamatsu mumbles half-heartedly, but he slowly walks in your direction before he stops to turn back. “You better not interrupt.”

“We [will be all] the way back he(l)e to suppo(l)t you!”

With a final sigh to expel his nerves, he gives a nervous smile to his teammates before coolly walking until you turn to face him once you hear his footsteps. Almost immediately though, his calmness easily dissipates into thin air once again, and his teammates only look on in dismay and worry from afar.

“Er…” Come on, just be direct. Talk normal.

“Kasamatsu-san?”

“Y-You were… d-datin—I mean t-talking, with… someone…”

“Oh, you saw? Yeah, I asked them to meet up with me here actually.”

“Is… that so?”

“Mmhm, I asked for their notes to compare to mine because I feel like I can’t get a hand on the subject sometimes.” Kasamatsu finally finds his voice for the first time in a while when the conversation finally re-enters familiar platonic territory.

“Was it… trigonometry? I did, um, do well on it last time, so…” Normal topics. Normal topics.

“I know,” you laugh. “You told me that a few days ago, remember?”

“W-W-Well…” He coughs to clear his throat and find his voice. “Y-You could’ve… a-a-asked—er…” You patiently wait for him to try to finish his sentence, and out of the corner of your eye you accidentally made eye contact with Kise from the distance.

Kise didn’t expect for you to notice the group even from a sizable distance away. He stayed still for a few seconds to make sure the shared eye contact wasn’t a fluke. Seeing how Kasamatsu was standing there like a statue again, he puts a flat hand next to his lips to discreetly mouth out:

He’s jealous.

To his surprise, you caught onto his cues, giving a subtle yet playful smile of your own before you carefully mouth out:

I know.

The others don’t seem to notice the secret exchange, all too focused on the poor captain bowing his head down out of extreme shyness. Kise doesn’t even know why he’s doing this, but perhaps Kobori was right that it’s only right for the team to help out their hardworking captain.

“Ah, Kasamatsu-san?”

“N-Nn?” He lifts his head up abruptly at the call of his name, and he turns red from mortification at the realization that he stood there like a dunce for the past several minutes. He doesn’t even have time to react to you stepping closer to him with an outstretched hand, and he stands motionless as you slightly fiddle with his cropped hair before you pull out a vivid cherry blossom petal.

“Remember what you told me?” you muse. “That ‘you can’t risk yourself being unkempt?’ After all, you’re right… it is the week where these blossoms fall rampantly… Must I also remind you to be careful where you’re walking under?”

At this point, Kasamatsu is sputtering like a broken engine, his mind barely functioning enough for him to think about putting a hand over his face in a desperate attempt to cover his frenzy.

“I, um, I…”

“Ah… can I ask you something first instead, Kasamatsu-san?” you gently interrupt him, and he flits his gaze back to you before staring at the ground again, and you took that as silent confirmation. “A-Are… are you free to go cherry blossom watching this weekend…?”

He snaps his head up in shock, only to see you slightly pink after that slight stutter in your question. It was your turn to avoid looking at his face.

“N-nn, I’m-I’m free.”

“Ah, that’s great…!” You muster your own courage to hold his clammy hands at his sides. “Can I ask to confirm if this is a romantic date between us?”

“Y-Yes,” he says in a hurry and you only laugh at his shyness. But his piercing eyes focus on your figure before he frees his hands from your loose clasp and reaches out to you, albeit with a slight shake in his hand still, before he clumsily takes out a petal from your hair. “It was… stuck.”

“See?” you shyly tease. “I knew it shouldn’t take you long to take out petals from hair.”

He completely lost his cool in front of you again.

You didn’t really care though… not when he looked absolutely endearing with the onslaught of petals settling on top of his head and shoulders to complement his flushed face.

———

Bonus:

“So are you two dating now?” Kise asks you. You both coincidentally met up at a hallway intersection the next week.

“Well, I think that’s a bit too fast,” you inwardly laugh. “You know how he is more than anyone.” Kise gives a light chuckle of his own before he asks you the question that’s been on his mind for a while.

“Hey (y/n)-senpai, how did you know Kasamatsu-senpai liked you?”

“Eh?”

“It was pretty clear from that time last week that you knew how he felt.”

“Ah… well, remember when he was… trying… to tidy up my hair? When you all spied on us?” you say, continuing when Kise gives a slightly sheepish nod. “It felt… different from how we normally talked. I’m sure he felt it harder than I did. I’ve always been nervous talking to him, but… seeing him so flustered and shy like that made me connect the dots, and then, I became more at ease and knew to be patient, realizing that he does hold a degree of feelings for me. I just didn’t know when was the right time for us to take it a step further.”

“I see. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I must say, please send my thanks for the rest of the team. I think without you guys, this wouldn’t have happened as smoothly… or quickly.” At your words, Kise only sweatdrops as he remembers Moriyama’s antics, Hayakawa’s over-enthusiasm, and Kobori’s good-natured naivete.

“I’ll… send your regards to them.”

“... Why do you look so hesitant?”

———

End note: the cherry blossom falling season only occurs in the first to second week of April, which would conflict with the timeline of this scenario IRL. The Japanese new school year also coincides with this week, and as 3rd-years, Kasamatsu, Moriyama, Kobori, and the reader would be college freshmen instead. If I wrote it in terms of “last year” with the 3rd-years as 2nd-years, then Kise would still be in Teiko. So for convenience sake… ignore the “realism” in the setting for this :^)