#i worked on this for a very very long time so i hope its coherent enough

[tragedybunny]

Pretty Baby 2

༺Summary༻

Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav

༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat

༺Word Count༻ 3783

༺A/N༻

So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin

The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.

Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper

Read On AO3 Chapter 1

“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 

Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 

I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.

He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.

Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries

The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 

We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 

“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 

Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.

“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 

The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 

“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  

Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 

Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.

And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.

“Fuck,” he whines the word. 

Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight

I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 

The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”

He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 

“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.

Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 

He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 

“Good baby. Almost done.” 

He tenses. “But...”

“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 

I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 

KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 

It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 

Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 

Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.

Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.

I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”

Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 

“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 

He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”

He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 

For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”

“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 

“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 

“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 

“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”

“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 

“Still going to miss you, though.” 

“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 

“Call me when you land, Fina.” 

I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.

We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 

The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 

To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 

Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 

Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 

“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 

He’s such a filthy little tease. 

Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight

He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 

Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down

Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 

Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 

His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 

The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”

“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”

We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 

“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 

The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”

I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 

I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 

He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.

BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 

He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”

Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 

It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 

I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 

Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 

Mommy: I hope that was worth it 

His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 

The stream dies just as he starts calling me.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.

“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”

“Please, I just…” 

“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”

 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”

I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”

We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  

There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 

When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 

“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 

“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”

“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”

“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 

He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 

“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 

“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”

“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 

“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 

“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 

I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 

“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 

“Alright, baby.” 

I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 

Relatively vanilla, he said.

“Come here.” 

I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”

He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 

“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 

He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.

After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.

We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  

And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.

“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 

He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 

“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 

DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy

Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 

Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 

“You’re being so good,” I coo.

He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.

“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”

l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.

“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 

He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 

I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 

He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 

“Please,” he begs, desperately. 

“Please what?”

���Fuck me, Mommy.” 

I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 

I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 

I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 

Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.

SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)

Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 

Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.

“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 

I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 

We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme

[wint3r-h3art]

His Sacrificial Offering | Namor

Summary: You were sent to be his, and his you shall be; both body and soul

Word count: 2.0K

Warnings: brain rotting smut ahead. Little plot, just thots. oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex. Breeding kink, cum dumping, slight mention of possessive behavior. Romance undertone if you squint.

18+ ONLY | Minors DNI

A/N: Tenoch Huerta be pulling me out of my writing slump, and here is the result. I hope you liked it. Little plot, but somewhat coherent (I hope). No beta either, so if I do miss anything, I apologize. If you enjoyed this little blurb, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated 💛

Part 2

*** Do not copy, repost, or translate anywhere else.

Your eyes fluttered close as a long shaky breath drew out of you. Pleasure clouded your judgment–perhaps you were too drunk of this ecstasy that at this exact moment you have forgotten that you were no more than his offering.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin–burned to your very bone. Sweat trickled down your temples while your legs shook from the intensity of it all.

The desirous torture came to a close when Namor pushed his thick fingers inside your sopping pussy. Your body jolted, hips bucked forward as he pushed his digits all the way to his knuckle.

His name fell from your lips like an incantation–breathless and enamored by his touch. Your voice was desperate and eager, hoping it would be enough for him.

Namor’s breath wavered at the way you were squeezing his fingers–so tight, so eager, and oh so perfect for him. His little sacrificial offering.

His, he thought with a smirk etched on his lips, cracking his stern visage in that instant. His heart swelled with pride at the prospect, and suddenly his thought was replaced by his carnal instinct, and the thought of having you round, and heavy with his seeds excited him.

“Mine,” he muttered before his mouth latched onto your nipple. His velvety tongue flicked over the stiff bud. His cheeks hollowed as he was sucking on the soft mound. His eyes stared up at you again, and this time it felt more primal. It felt like you were burned alive while being doused by pure ecstasy all at once. You groaned as your body eagerly responded to his attention.

His lips moved to the valley between your breasts as he kissed his way southward. His tongue grazed on your skin, tasting the salt of your skin and marking you, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

His mouth continued to move southward until he settled in between your thighs. His palms smoothed over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. For a man his size, he was surprisingly gentle with you–perhaps, a bit too gentle.

Namor was trying to restrain himself not to be too rough with you. After all, mortals bruise and can get hurt easily. A part of him wanted to do more though, but his conscience said otherwise.

You sucked in your breath when you felt his mouth descend upon your throbbing core. All of your rationality flew right now as his warm, velvety tongue grazed over your swollen heat. It excited him how willing you were to be his.

His tongue swept over your swollen cleft again, this time he made sure to collect the slicked nectar on his tongue. A low moan reverberated from his chest, shooting right through your pussy. He glided his tongue over your opening, rimming it, pushing the tip into it that had you scrambled under his hold.

Namor kept you in place though by that strong, steely grip of his while he worked your swollen clit, reducing you to nothing more than a panting mess.

“My king…”

“Hmmm?” he asked as his mouth was still on your cunt, licking and fucking at your tight hole with shallow penetration.

“My king, please,” you gasped as your hips bucked forward to meet his mouth.

“Please what, my sweet?

You felt almost frustrated by the question, but you were in no position to be mad at him. You were his, and he was free to use you however he saw fit.

“Please let me come,” you pleaded almost pathetically as if he hadn’t let you do just that too many times over.

A gleam in his eyes made your heart shudder as he continued to lick at your fold and thrust his tongue into your tight hole that made you dig your heel into the soft bed. Your pussy was practically aching by the time you hit your first climax, but of course, the king wasn’t done with you yet.

Pulling back, Namor was now seated between your legs. His hand wiped off the gleaming remnant of your juice on his face. His hair was disheveled and messy. Some stuck to his forehead as perspiration dampened his skin. Raking his finger through his hair, he leaned forward and spoke.

“Bring your knees up to your chest. I won’t ask twice” he said in his deep timbre voice that sent a tremor straight through your glistening pussy. You were throbbing and aching to the point where you started clenching at the emptiness, wishing to have more of him. Even just a little bit of him was more than enough–it was more than you deserved.

Trembling, you complied. You felt so exposed and oh so vulnerable, holding your knees open for him. Uncertainty plagued your mind as many thoughts swam through your head, anticipating the treatment that awaited you.

Yet you trust him.

Every molecule in your body shivered with needs as you stared up to meet those beautiful, deep brown sapphire eyes–molten and warm like how he made you feel at the moment. You could have easily used you for his own pleasure–yet his touches had been nothing of that sort. You felt like you were meant to be his from the very beginning. It was expected that you would receive him and serve him as he sees fit, yet–

“Tell me who you belong to.”

It wasn’t a request. His voice was firm while his thick fingers traced your slippery folds. His eyes gleamed between your nether lips and your face. There was an underlying intensity behind his gaze, and it sent your nerves into a frenzy. Your body trembles again as he continues to stroke at your folds, coating them in your essence. You felt lewd in a way as you lay there, baring your most intimate part to him.

“You,” you mumbled as he crashed his lips into yours for the very first time, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your body strained beneath him as he worked you over with his fingers. You were so wet and so slick that he had no issue with adding his third digits. The man was dexterous and oh so talented with his hand that you felt another wave of an orgasm slowly slither its way up your spine.

Your legs shook as your wall fluttered around him as his pace quickened. He was fucking you so hard and so deep with his fingers that his chamber filled with nothing but the sound of your wet, squelching pussy being fucked relentlessly by the king himself.

A string of incoherent begging fell from your lips once more as you neared your release. In a fit of a throe of passion, you came with a shout.

His mouth covered you instantly, swallowing your sound. His tongue flicked over yours, licking and savoring your taste. His lips trailed down along your jawline, kissing whatever skin he found. 

With a swift motion, he entered you with a low grunt. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as he began to move, slowly at first. Your fingers dig into his back, feeling the way his muscles strained and cored from the movement.

You clung to him as if he was the only anchor that was holding you down. Your chest ached. Your body throbbed with a need that you’d never thought you had. Your body burns from the feverish pleasure, shattering all of your resolves.

Namor was trying to be gentle at first. Yet the more plunge himself inside your velvety heat, the more he felt like he was being intoxicated, and with every minute he spent inside you, he felt like all of his control and common sense were slowly eroded into nothingness. Every cell in his body screamed for you, and in turn, his movement became erratic. He was fucking you, rutting into you with a ferocity that made your mind scramble. 

No sounds came out of your mouth as if all the air had been fucked right out of you. You came with an uncontrollable rush. His name was the only thing you could utter because he didn’t stop. He was still fucking you relentlessly, driving himself into you.

His hands spread your legs wider, and his thick cock sank deeper. His grip on your wrist seemed to tighten, shoving you down into the plush bed. Drooled slipped out of your lips as he continued to pound into you.

Again and again, you came, sobbing with pleasure. You were practically begging him to finish you, to fill you up, and Namor did just that. It felt like hours later when he began to slow down as he rode out his release, pumping his lust into the depth of your body, emptying himself with a deep guttural groan that sounded like the sweetest sin.

You turned to look at him. Your lips parted, panting. Your hand fisted the sheet beneath you to the point where it was aching. Your legs shook as the remnant of his release sputtered out of you and onto the sheet below. 

Namor was slowly coming back to his senses. Every part of him was attuned to you as he stared down at your fragile form–so delicate compared to his, yet you were the only thing that somehow made him lose his mind. The fact that you have easily accepted your role as his offering was enough to drive him to the edge once again.

You woke up sometimes later to find him looking at you. 

You realized that it was the first time that you were looking at the king right in the eyes. Your face was warmed by the sudden rush of heat. Your eyes quickly averted, casting down to his broad chest. 

You knew it was stupid and childish, but the memory of what he had done to you was replaying again, and the distinct ache between your legs was proof of that. The slippery feeling between your thighs was also proof of what he had given you. You wouldn’t be surprised if the seeds had already taken root inside your womb by how frequently he had bedded you.

You’re not complaining though. To be in his good Grace was everything you’ve ever wanted. He had been nothing by spoiling you, adorning you with jewelry from head to toe, dressing you up in whatever fine things he thought would suit you. You were his to play with, you accepted this without any objection. 

“Are you afraid of me?”

The question puzzled you so that you found yourself frowning slightly. Namor fought the smile that threatened to form on his lips. 

“No, my king,” you answered. You realized how weak and hoarse your voice was.

Namor’s gaze softened upon the realization that perhaps you were slowly coming back to your senses. His calloused fingers traced over your soft, delicate skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. You shivered, and he felt it. Namor pulled you closer. His heat and scent filled your head, making you feel at ease for the moment.

“Then why are you not looking at me?”

The question was a tease really. He was curious as to how you would react to him. He knew you were well pleased by how many times you had shouted his name, but there was this pleasure of hearing it from your mouth that made him eager to hear.

You chewed on your lips. How do you explain to a god that you were thoroughly fucked and thoroughly satisfied? Indeed such admission was a taboo thing to utter out loud.

“You weren’t too shy that long ago,” he added. Your eyes briefly met with his, and you could feel the heat now completely enveloping your face.

“My king, I–”

“No matter,” he smirked as slowly spread your legs apart again and settled himself between them. “I just have to make you talk.”

He watched you swallow the way you watched his cock come to life. All of your rationality wavered once more between needs and common sense. 

But you knew which one won on this one.

Namor took his time again to show you again that you were more than his sacrificial offering.

[cyberrose2001]

Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT

Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?

Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3

- 🍄

TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader

Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3

(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)

Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.

Word count: 657

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs. 

Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.

Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.

His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.

It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high. 

As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.  

His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices. 

"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."

Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.

"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."

You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."

Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.

[brattyfork]

can’t

summary: you’re having a hard time getting off, matt offers a solution

warnings: THIS IS SMUT, but there’s nothing crazy, this is pretty long tho

when i broke up with my boyfriend, i knew it’d be hard, knew it would take a while to get over him. what i didn’t expect was how much i missed him sexually. the whole time we were together i didn’t masturbate, i didn’t need to, if i was horny i just went to his house and he helped me. this leads me to where i am now, desperately trying to get off after almost two years of not touching myself. i tried everything, watched porn, read books, even bought like four different toys and nothing could get me over the edge.

i had just finished watching a pretty steamy movie with my roommates, three triplet brothers. i suggested the movie, not realizing how much sex was in it, the boys didn’t seem to mind too much. chris was on his phone, his head snapping up every time he heard a chick moan. nick had his headphones in watching tiktoks but matt was actually very invested in the movie. at the beginning, he was playing clash of clans on his phone but quickly got distracted by the movie and just kept watching. after the movie ended, matt was the only one paying attention. “im gonna go take a nap” i said, trying to sound as tired as possible. he just looked up at me, smiling and nodding as i walked away.

i figured now would be as good a time as any to try again so i got set up. got myself a water, grabbed my lube and various toys from my closet and pulled up pornhub on my laptop. i know porn rots your brain or whatever but at this point i didn’t care anymore. i grabbed my airpods off my bedside table and put one in my ear, so the boys couldn’t hear the porn but i could still hear them. setting up, i played one of the first videos i saw on pornhub, having no idea what to even search for, hit play and pulled my blanket over my legs, seeing as i had no pants on i was kinda cold.

while looking for toys, i stumbled across something called a wand, it had pretty good reviews so i caved and spent the hundred bucks on it. i plugged it into the power strip next to my bed and turned it on, it was loud but i figured the boys were doing their own things so whatever. i squirted the tiniest bit of lube on it, i was already pretty wet from the movie and i hated the greasy feeling of the lube. i flipped the switch and got to work, or at least i tried to. i was doing pretty good, the wand felt awesome and i felt myself getting close but it would just disappear out of nowhere. after inadvertently edging myself three times, i was basically crying. being so frustrated i threw the wand across the room, pulling it out of its socket. i pulled my knees to my chest, sobbing into them. seconds later, my door flung open, matt appearing behind it.

“y/n! is everything oka-“ he paused, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him, closing the door behind him.

“what’s happening? what is all this?” he gestured to my bed, moving closer. i didn’t speak or move, i just kept sobbing, hoping this was all some bad dream i would wake up from any second. i felt my bed shift from matt sitting down next to me. he placed a hand on my back,

“y/n?”. i just leaned into him, crying some more while he wrapped both his arms around me, still hugging my legs with a blanket still covering my lower half.

“hey, hey, you’re okay, what happened?” i figured there was no point in lying to him, he had already seen everything.

“i can’t come, i haven’t in gotten off in weeks” i said, my sobbing becoming more intense from the embarrassment of having said this out loud.

“don’t cry sweet girl, you’re okay, take a deep breath with me” he lifted my chin to look at him, taking a deep breath in through his mouth and slowly letting it out through his nose, i copied him, repeating it a few times before i could form coherent sentences.

“there you go, you’re okay. do you wanna tell me what’s happening?” he asked sweetly, making sure that i knew i didn’t have to tell him anything if i didn’t want to.

“i haven’t gotten off since i broke up w y/e/n, i can’t seem to do it myself, and as you can see,” i gestured to all the items on my bed “i’ve tried everything.” he stayed quiet for a second, obviously having no idea what to say.

“im so sorry y/n” he said finally , pulling me into a hug.

“it’s okay, thanks for listening to me cry” i chuckled out, trying to diffuse the tension.

“i uh have a suggestion, if you’d like to hear it…” i nodded against his chest, willing to try almost anything at this point.

“i could um try and help you” i pulled away from him, searching his face for any sign that he was fucking with me. his face was dead serious, concerned, with a slight ting of red on his cheeks.

“really? uh how?” i asked, knowing what he meant but wanting to make sure we were on the same page.

“well, i could finger you or eat you out? whatever you want really, whatever you think will help”

“are you sure? that’s a big ask”

“you didn’t ask, i offered. but only if you want to, if you don’t i’ll go and we can pretend this didn’t happen”

“no!” i said, louder and whinier than i meant to, “i mean um if you don’t mind”

“i don’t mind at all” he said as his eyes glanced down at my lips, letting his eyes move down my body to where the blanket was. he got up, moving around to the other side of my bed, picking up my laptop, closing it and setting it on my bedside table.

“ matt?”

“yes angel?”

“can you uh can we like maybe um-“

“words baby”

“can you kiss me?” a small smirk grew on his face.

he walked back around to the side of the bed i was on, standing in front of me he held my face in his hands, leaning over to place a small kiss on my lips, pulling away briefly before kissing me again this time pushing me back to lay on the bed. he hovered over me before settling down in between my legs, whimpering as i felt his bulge rub my clit between the blanket. he continued to kiss me gently before pulling away with my bottom lip in between his teeth. he smiled at me before grabbing my face, turning my head to give him better access to my neck. he started with light kisses, making me shiver before he started to suck a little bit, unfortunately not enough to leave marks. he then bit where he had been sucking before, licking the same spot causing me to whine. he came up, pressing another kiss to my lips before looking down at the blanket.

“can i take this off?” i nodded quickly. he pulled the blanket off exposing my bare pussy. he lifted my sweater slightly, placing kisses down the valley in between my breasts, moving down to my stomach. he let his knees fall to the ground, now sitting at the end of the bed. he wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling me down toward him. i gasped at the sudden movement, looking down to see his piercing blue eyes staring straight back at me. he began kissing the insides of my thighs, not for too long, knowing how much i needed this. he looked at my pussy, glistening from all the attention, seemingly entranced.

“matt?” bringing him out of his trance

“sorry, you’re just so pretty” i blushed at the compliment. he leaned down, pressing a light kiss to my clit before licking a stripe up my folds making me let out a low moan. i could feel him smile against me as he continued to eat me out, my moans growing louder as he got more into it. lost in my pleasure, i felt something proding at my entrance before pushing in.

“oh fuck matt” i managed to whine out.

he began fucking into me with his finger while still sucking on my clit. it felt unreal but i still needed more.

“matt more please” i begged. lucky for me, he understood what i meant, adding another finger, making me let out a loud groan. i reached my hand down, searching for anything to grab onto. matt noticed, interlacing his fingers with mine. with another thrust of his fingers, he brushed my g spot, making me squeeze his hand.

“oh my god matt do that again please” he did as i asked repeating the motion, my moans growing louder.

“matt please don’t stop im so close please” i begged, grinding my pussy against his face trying to gain more friction. he held my thighs down, trying to keep me still so he could get me over the edge.

“fuck i’m gonna cum please don’t stop please please” i begged, babbling whatever words would come out of my mouth, not caring how i sounded. with a few more pumps of his fingers i came completely undone, my thighs shaking from the pleasure i hadn’t experienced in weeks. he continued eating me gently through my orgasm before coming back up to my face, kissing me. i could taste myself on his lips and it was intoxicating.

“better?”

“a little”

“a little??” surprised after my relatively intense orgasm

“matt” he looked at my inquisitively, searching my face for what i would say next.

“can you fuck me , please?”

“want my cock inside you princess ?” he said lifting his shirt over his head.

i nodded but i should’ve known better. he tilted his head to the side, giving me a look.

“you need to use your words baby, i can’t read minds” he reminded me

“ need you inside me please”

“so polite, sweetheart” he cooed, undoing his belt, completely mesmerizing me. he pulled his pants down, leaving him in just his boxers as he went to crawl on top of me.

“no, take those off too” i demanded, desperate to see all of him.

“so needy” he complied, letting his boxers hit the floor. i wasn’t surprised, i knew matt wasn’t small. i smiled excitedly, ready to just have him inside me. he reached both his hands out to me motioning for me to grab them. he pulled me up before grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt and pulling it over my head. he leaned down, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing me. i wrapped my legs around his hips as i deepened the kiss, trying to get as close to him as possible. with his arms around my waist and my legs around his hips, he lifted me up before sitting where i had been before. he placed me on his lap gently, both of us groaning, him feeling my wetness spread down his cock, me feeling his cock against my clit.

“can you ride me angel?” he said pulling away from my lips slightly, planting them firmly back after he asked. i just nodded into the kiss, needing him so desperately. he pulled away from the kiss, taking one of his arms off my waist, bringing his hand up to my mouth. he gently pressed his index and middle finger into my mouth.

“get my hand wet baby” i sucked on his fingers for a bit before he decided they were wet enough but when he pulled his fingers out i grabbed his wrist, keeping his hand near my face. i licked above where my hand grasped his wrist, all the way up to his fingertips. his pupils dilated in an instant, i could barely see any blue, his eyes fully black with lust. he brought his hand down and stroked himself a few times before lifting me slightly off his lap, lining himself up. he looked at me, making sure he saw no discomfort in my face. i gave him a small smile before sinking onto his cock. he held my hips as my arms flung around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. he guided me down, making sure not to rush me. i finally bottomed out and let out a big breathe. i sat there momentarily, enjoying how full i felt. i lifted my head from him, kissing him before pushing up on my knees, coming off his cock slightly before going back down. he let out a groan, and with his hands still on my ass helped me ride him, lifting me off him and helping me sink back down. after a little bit of this i could feel my legs getting sore, i didn’t say anything, feeling bad that i was too tired to ride him. despite me not telling him, matt noticed. he quickly flipped us over, him now on top of me, giving my legs a much needed break.

“did you get tired baby?”

i nodded, hoping that would be enough of a response for him.

“that’s okay, wanted me to take control?”

i whined at his words, grabbing his face pulling his lips to mine. he began to pound into me at an ungodly pace and i dragged my nails along his back, making him groan into the kiss. i disconnected our lips briefly.

“you feel so good, so deep inside me” i whispered against his lips. apparently he liked that as he reconnected our lips and started fucking me so hard i saw stars. i began to essentially scream into the kiss. he pulled away, “you sound so good for me sweetheart”

“matt i’m so close c-can i hnng” i struggled to finish my sentence.

“go ahead baby, wanna feel you cum on me”

with his permission, i let go, my legs began shaking as i let out the loudest moan that’s ever passed my lips

“fuck baby you look so good, can i cum inside you?”

“fuck, pLEASE” i croaked out, becoming overstimulated.

his thrusts became sloppier and he slowed down as he released inside me, completely filling me up. he pumped into me a few more times before pulling out.

“are you okay sweet girl?” he asked, concerned as my eyes were half lidded and fluttering open and shut.

“mhm” i responded, only able to mumble and whine.

“cmon let’s get you cleaned up” he lifted me bridal style, carrying me to my bathroom, setting me down on the toilet.

“go pee baby” he ordered as he made his way back into my room to clean up a little. after i peed i sat on the toilet, elbows propped up on my knees with my head in my hands. i heard matt’s footsteps as he made his way back into the bathroom, holding a t-shirt, underwear and your favorite pajama pants.

“can you walk?” he asked, sounding worried despite his smirk on his face, proud of how good he made me feel.

“maybe?” he reached out his hand for me to grab, helping me off the toilet. at first, my legs felt like i had no bones in them but i was able to stand after a few seconds. i slipped the shirt over my head before holding onto him to put on my underwear and pants. he walked me into my room, helping me into bed before handing me an unopened water bottle.

“drink this” he ordered, as he walked toward the door.

“are you leaving ?” the thought of him leaving after all that made me want to sob.

“course not baby, just turning off the lights” he said flicking off the light before returning to the bed, crawling under the blankets. he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close before giving me a sweet kiss on the back of my neck.

“thank you matt” i said, intertwining my fingers in his.

“anything for you my love” pulling me closer if even possible.

A/N: hi, thanks for reading my first full fic :) i want feedback! constructive criticism is appreciated (just don’t be mean) also idk if the peeing thing is weird, i think it’s kinda cute so 🤷‍♀️

[zerobaseone-zhanghao]

Hello! I hope it's okay to request, I never requested before. But May I please request Dominant Bada fucking her needy gf in the dance studio with her strap after practice or like they sneak off during practice? And maybe they end up getting caught and Bada is just all smug while her gf is a shy flustered mess, especially since Bada is still deep inside her, with no plans of stopping?

knee deep in pussy

t/w: smut, dom!bada & sub!reader, mommy kink, voyeurism, you can wait to see which bebe member I chose 😉

a/n: hii thank you for your request, it’s a great one!! I hope you like it <3

=====================================

Bebe are currently in one of the studios at JustJerk working on their routines for a festival that is coming up. One thing to note about bebe is that they have 8 members and two of them are dating. The leader Bada and you.

You notice that while you’re practicing that Bada is being pretty clingy, “are you okay?” You ask Bada who’s hugging you from behind with her head on your shoulder “I’m okay baby girl”.

“Let’s take a 10 minute break” Bada tells the group and everyone splits to grab some food and water.

“Let’s go babe” she whispers in your ear “we’ll be back in 10 guys” Bada tells the group before pulling you with her to an empty studio across the hall.

“What’s happening?” You ask, “shut up” Bada tells you before kissing you passionately. You break apart for some air “wha-“ “strip” she demands. Your girlfriend is extremely sexy when she’s dominant so you spare no time and quickly strip naked.

Bada pushes you back so you fall onto the couch and she grabs your hand leading to cup her pussy when you realise that it’s not, it’s her strap. You get a fuzzy feeling of excitement but also nerves, she knows how you get when she pulls out the strap.

Bada strips down very slowly, teasing you as she knows how much you love her body “hurry up bada please” “what the fuck did you just call me?!” “Sorry mommy”

“Be a good girl and suck on it” she straddles over you, lining the strap up with your mouth. You do as she says and take the strap in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. She abruptly pulls it out and moves away, giving you a little peck on the lips before slamming the strap into you. You very nearly let out a scream but Bada knew what was about to happen and covered your mouth. “Don’t make me gag you” “I’ll keep quiet mommy”.

She continues to slam into you and tears are rolling down your face, the sounds your making aren’t even coherent anymore, it’s a mix of moans, whimpers, whines and begs. Bada has a huge smile on her face, she’s enjoying every second of it.

You’re being really loud, you honestly don’t remember how many times Bada has told you to be quiet so of course neither of you hear the creak of the door as it opens.

“umm unnies, 10 minutes is long gone, we’ve been waiting for you” the mystery girl quietly says, shocked at what she’s seeing. Bada looks at the wide eyed girl smugly “come in Minah, don’t be shy” “can I?” She asks waiting for Bada’s permission “come in, get a comfy seat and enjoy the show, tell the others that she had an accident and got a bit wet so she’s showering” she tells Minah looking down at you “a bit wet? more like very wet” Minah says smirking “you know it” Bada replies.

During this whole conversation Bada never stopped and you’ve not been able to say a word, you’re slowly losing your mind. You didn’t even notice Minah coming over, she nods to Bada for approval and sits at your head, lifting your head onto her knees and stroking your hair. It’s a sweet gesture and very contrasting to what Bada is currently doing. You’re sobbing and your moans are so loud, you’re practically screaming, Minah keeps stroking your hair and shushing you, trying to calm you down.

Your arm reacts on its own and slaps Bada’s arm to signal that you need to cum really badly. Bada decides to be nice to you since you currently look like you’ve been dragged through a bush and she allows you to cum. Bada is amazed, this is probably the biggest orgasm she has ever seen you have, and she’s seen them a lot. Minah is also amazed, Bada scoops some of your cum onto her finger lifting it to Minah’s mouth letting her try you.

“You taste amazing” Minah tells you, still continuing to stroke your hair to bring you down from your high and gives you a kiss on the lips. She quickly realised what she did and looks up to Bada who just laughs, she isn’t really bothered by it. You just lie there fully exhausted and Bada texts the bebe group chat just telling the members to go home. You, Bada and Minah all cuddle and they both help to clean you up. You had no idea that Minah was even in the room until you came to your senses again “wait what? she was in the room the whole time?” Bada and Minah just laugh at your confusion. “You did so well for us babe” Bada tells you, giving you a hug “maybe you can do just as well for Minah next time” wait ‘Minah’?! ‘Next time’?!

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: The story about a prince and a traveller <3

Pairing: Malleus x Gn!Reader (Yuu)

Genre: Slight angst (?), Fluff I dunno

TW: Uh, although this is GN! Reader, the reader or Prefect or Yuu is referred to as "Mama" at one point in this. It is meant to be a gender neutral form of address (but if there is another form of address that is more fitting in the scenario please let me know), minor character death, heavily based on Orpheus and Eurydice's story.

AN: Not really happy with the ending of this, but its been in my drafts for far too long. It would have been more angsty, but my sister (who I usually make read my fics to check if it sounds coherent and/or is good) as well as my friends who I showed the initial draft to said that it would be too cruel and that I should make it a happy ending so here we are! Hope you enjoy!

One upon a time, there used to live a prince.

The prince was the heir of a prosperous kingdom. His wise eyes looked over his subjects with the love of a friend and the vigilance of a father. All he ever wanted was for his kingdom to flourish and grow, for his people to live happy lives. And he worked hard to ensure their protection, so that they may spread their wings under his watchful gaze and soar to new heights, bringing honor and prestige to their kingdom. In turn, the people of the kingdom loved and respected him, singing his praises to the birds in the sky and the flowers blooming in the soil. There was no one in the kingdom who would speak ill of their prince, for he was beloved by all.

But, the prince was lonely. He had loving friends to lean on, and trusted elders to learn from, but his heart yearned for that one person who would transform his happy yet monotonous days into pure bliss. His one true love.

And how fortunate was he to find it, in the most unexpected of places, at the most unassuming of times.

He found his solace, his refuge in a traveler from far, far away. It was love at first sight, though the prince would come to realize it much, much later.

The traveler was an intriguing, mysterious figure; quickly endearing themself to each person they came to know. Many vied for their hand, for their affections, yet their eyes seemed to sparkle for only one; the prince.

After many trials and tribulations the two were finally able to be at each other's side. The prince took the mysterious traveler as his spouse, his to love and nurture and adore forevermore. Yet such bliss, was fated to be short-lived.

Death came calling soon, far too soon for the traveler. No matter how much effort the prince expended to save his beloved, their life slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

The prince was stricken with grief. He mourned for the untimely loss of his pride and joy, and his people mourned alongside him. His heartfelt cries and pleas reached the heavens, moving the hearts of the Great Seven themselves.

One day, the prince was visited by the Thorn Fairy in his dreams. "Child, I have heard your prayers. Your devotion to your beloved is commendable, but the other side can often be cruel. It is best if you let those who have left rest where they rightfully belong, for the price to bring them back is often steep. Are you willing to do anything to have your beloved by your side once again?"

"Anything," the prince replied, with a conviction that moved the fae's heart. The fae sighed, and said, "Very well. If your love is true, and your decision final, then I shall not stand in your way. But be warned; one misstep, and your love will be lost forever. Do not look behind, for nothing exists there except regret."

The prince woke up in a dark cave, the Thorn Fairy's last words ringing in his ears. A warning, and a hint.

The prince followed his instincts; standing up and walking towards the small pinprick of light he could see in the distance. The floor of the cave was damp and cold. It seemed as if the shadows were clinging on to his legs, beckoning him to stay, to rest a while, but the prince continued moving ahead.

After what seemed like hours, (for the prince could not say if time was passing or if it was frozen. All he could do was walk and walk and walk-) the prince heard footfalls of another person, walking behind him. A voice called out to him, the tone so timid and fearful than he had ever heard it be, yet unmistakable. It was the voice of his beloved traveler, his most adored spouse.

The prince nearly turned to look at them, wishing to see what state they were in. He barely caught himself from doing it at the very last minute, remembering the fae's warnings.

Do not look behind, for nothing exists there except regret.

The prince kept walking ahead resolutely, one foot placed in front of the other with a haste. His heart beat wildly inside his chest, as if it was trying to escape its bony prison. The footsteps of his beloved echoed louder as they followed him.They called out to him again, hoping, perhaps, to get a reply; to get a confirmation that their love had truly come for them. But the prince did not answer, in fear of being tempted to look behind. Silently, he walked on ahead, his gaze trained on the light that seemed to get bigger and brighter as he walked towards it. Only a little more, and then...!

His beloved's voice grew frantic the longer he did not reply to their calls. The prince, in his hurry to reach the light and reclaim his beloved, had started walking faster, much faster than they could keep up. So they ran behind him, calling out to him. And fell, just as the prince took one step out of the cave.

The pained hiss that left his beloved's lips was the last straw for the prince. He turned, his eyes widening as the figure of his beloved knelt inside the cave, so close yet so far away from the sunlight, from him.

"No, no, no, no!" The prince exclaimed, falling to his knees and letting out an anguished wail as he wrapped his arms around his beloved. His beloved, who was gradually crumbling away into dust. Even so, they had a calm smile on their face, their hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

"I love you," was all they said, before they returned back to eternal rest.

...

Malina pouted, her hands resting on her father's shoulders as she looked up at him with wide teary eyes. Maleah, her twin, sat beside her on their father's lap, frowning as she asked, "Why did the traveler not return to the prince? He was out of the cave, was he not?"

Malleus gave his two children a gentle smile. "He may have been out of the cave, but the traveler was not. He turned back before they could take a step into the sunlight," he explained to her patiently, eyes shining with amusement as he watched her frown get deeper.

Malina sniffled, her big teary eyes sending a stab of concern through him, and Malleus held her closer. "But that's not fair..." she whined, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"What's going on?"

"Mama!"

The two little girls scampered off his lap, making their way to their other parent who picked them up with a confused yet fond smile on their face. "Father was telling us the story of the prince and the traveler," Malina said as she wrapped her short arms around their neck.

They narrowed their eyes at Malleus as they held the little princesses in their arms.

"Malleus."

Malleus chuckled, the sound soft and slightly hesitant as he made his way to where the three of them were standing. "Apologies, my beloved," he said in a soothing tone, his hand rising to tuck a wayward strand of hair back in its place, hoping that the loving gesture would take away some of their anger.

"We will be having a talk about this later," they huffed, and Malleus nodded, placing a gentle kiss on their forehead.

He watched as they brought the young girls back to their bed, settling the little ones and promising to tell them a better bedtime story than the one their father had told. Malleus smiled as he sat behind them, his arms wrapping around their waist loosely while he placed his chin on their shoulder. A soft rumble left his chest when they raised their hand to run their fingers through his hair as they regaled the two sleepy girls with tales of knights and princesses.

Soon Malina and Maleah drifted off into sleep, holding each other close. Yuu sighed, a fond smile playing on their lips as they looked at their children.

"Hornton."

Malleus pressed his lips against the nape of their neck and smiled. "Yes, my dear child of man?"

"You are a menace," they chuckled, and Malleus smiled.

"Perhaps."

They hummed, the sound light and sweet as it carried into the otherwise silent room.

"One day, they will learn that it was all a true story," they said.

"I believe they would like our version much better, when the time comes," he mumbled against their shoulder, the great dragon fae being lulled to sleep by his beloved's soft voice.

"Definitely, Hornton. Definitely."

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Hi! Can you write some angst + NSFW ending with the prompt

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you? This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

oooohohohohooo this is a good oneeee

idk if i can think of a way of ending with this but maybe somewhere in the beginning or middle/end ish? i hope that’s alright? it’ll still be angsty tho don’t worryyyy (i hope) hehe but thank you for the request!!

after writing: i kinda broke up what you wanted to be said and added a few things, i hope that’s okay

Please

content: rhea ripley x fem reader, angst, NSFW but pretty vanilla unfortch :/ sorry friends

Working backstage at WWE has its perks: getting to talk with the superstars, seeing how everything is put up and taken down, getting to go behind the scenes of the show; but it also has its downsides. You’re up late at night after the show taking everything down, cleaning up after everyone, making sure everything is put back in its place in the trucks to move to the next city. You’re always tired because of the schedule they have you on. Very rarely do you get time for yourself so you haven’t even thought of trying to have any kind of relationship.

Lately, you’ve been a bit on edge. Is it the lack of sleep? Probably. Is it the crush you have on THE Rhea Ripley when you swore to yourself you would never date a coworker? Most likely.

You’ve never voiced that you had this, but a lot of your coworkers have told you multiple times that you suck at hiding it. The way you stumble your words around her, or how your face gets red when she’s brought up in conversation, or how you refuse to talk to or about her in case of messing everything up. You’ve never had a crush last this long and it was eating you alive. It was hard to work sometimes because you would just stare, she was so captivating.

Unfortunately, one day the goth wrestler caught you staring and decided it would be a good idea to talk to you. “Hey, (y/n), you alright?”

“Huh?” your face became red, “oh yeah sorry, got caught in a daze.”

“Don’t apologize, I can tell you’re tired,” she sounded so caring, this was not helping your case, “they work you all too hard back here.”

You nervously laugh it off, “yeah, but that’s show biz.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, psshh! Yeah totally,” you wave her pity away landing your hands on your hips.

“I know I’m scary looking but I’m always here if you want to talk. I know how it can be, trust me,” she takes out her phone, “let me get your number in case you want to chat.”

Oh god, oh fuck.

“Y-yeah for sure,” you hesitate grabbing the phone. You shake as you type your number in, you see that she already has your name typed out with the bubbles emoji next to it. “Why the bubbles?”

“You’re always bubbly,” she says casually with a small smile.

“Right,” you smile as you hand back the phone, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“Checking up on me.”

“Us tired people gotta stay together,” she laughs, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

“I’ll be here!” You give her a weak thumbs up as you watch her walk away.

“God,” you groan as you begin to fan yourself. You got nervously hot trying to muster up any sort of coherent sentence. Hopefully you didn’t sound too weird, you kinda blacked out for a second. “My number?!” you whisper to yourself, “that’s crazy.”

You could barely think about anything else the rest of the day constantly checking your phone to see if she texted you. Luckily, nothing happened. You were relieved when you went to the hotel that night and saw that she hadn’t texted you because that meant you couldn’t mess it up. You kept telling yourself that this was a silly crush that will go away soon…but you’ve said that for the past three months.

You didn’t realize the time until you heard your phone ding at 2:43am.

hey, it’s rhea

Of course her texts are all lowercase. You lay staring at the screen. Do you answer? Do you lie tomorrow and say that you actually fell asleep?

hey! what’s up

You decide to text back, what’s the use in lying, you thought.

i knew you’d be awake

you caught me

these hotel beds aren’t the best for people who can’t sleep huh

idk mine’s pretty comfy

Was that flirting? You weren’t sure, but hopefully she didn’t take it that way. The last thing you need is for her to start having a crush on you.

damn, you’re lucky. maybe i should come sleep with you then haha

Oh no, what do I say? Yes? Is she joking? Surely she’s just joking…fuck.

if i’m lucky again, maybe the next hotel we can share a room

Oh yeah good save…totally not flirting.

sounds like a plan

good. well i’m going to try to sleep hopefully

me too, we both have a long travel day tomorrow

goodnight ripley

sleep well (y/n)

You’ve only just realized that you’ve been cheesing at your phone this whole interaction. She’s taken over your entire being.

It was now 3:15am and you had a flight at 7:30am, so you might as well just lay there with your eyes closed in hopes of getting some sort of rest.

The week has passed, it was Monday again. Though the show starts at seven at night, crew had to be there at ten in the morning to make sure everything was ready before the stars showed up at two. You and Rhea hadn’t texted much, just some hello’s here and there with a few how’s your day’s, though she was on your mind constantly.

As the time drew closer and closer for the australian to walk through the door, you avoided that door at all costs. You tried to do anything to get you away from her path to her dressing room. Sweeping, wiping, snacking, literally anything.

“How’s the bed?” her accent flew threw the air behind you.

“W-what?” you turn around quickly.

She meets your gaze and stops a few feet in front of you with her little booty shorts and big tshirt, no makeup with her beefy arms crossed, “did you get lucky?”

You widen your eyes as you were taken aback, trying to process what she just said for a good few seconds before you realize what she was talking about, “oh!” you sigh in relief, “sorry! Yeah, no, got the lumpiest in the whole building probably,” you chuckle.

“Damn, seems like we switched sides this time around-,” she smirked.

You cut her off before anything else could happen, “Ha! I guess so,” you take a carrot from the snack table and chomp down, “I- uh… gotta go mop… th-the back hallway, see you later!” you lied. You basically ran away from her. You’ve already mopped that hallway… twice. Something about her in the shorts and tshirt made you so nervous.

Time went on, the show went on, the audience left, and luckily you’ve avoided the buff goth the whole night successfully.

“Hey, (y/n), Rhea’s looking for you. She’s in her room,” one of the PA’s said, nervously, “she seems a bit upset.”

Oh no, was all you could think. Repeating it in your head with every step, getting louder and louder, until you finally reached her door. You take a long deep breath before knocking lightly.

“It’s open,” she yelled through the wood.

So you walk in, closing the door behind you, you stand right behind the threshold not wanting to go any closer. She was already back in her tshirt, but this time she was wearing sweatpants. Her makeup was still on though with her hair rough with sweat.

“Are you avoiding me?” she asked bluntly.

“No,” you answer a little too quickly.

“You sure? Cause it sure does seem like it,” her arms crossed with anger.

“I’m pretty sure,” you lie again.

“Then why haven’t I seen you all day?” she sneaks closer to you.

“I’ve been…working, it was busy today,” you step back.

“You just so happened to be extra busy today,” she stood wide in front of you, basically pushing you against the door.

You couldn’t think, she was so close you could smell the faint cologne she put on earlier that was left on the shirt. You settle for a small nod, holding your breath, hoping she would take that as an answer.

She didn’t, “I don’t believe you,” she growled.

“Well, I-”

“What? You think you can be friendly one day and the next you just completely ignore me?” she threw her hands up in surrender before landing them on her hips.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, you could barely breathe, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t thin-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t think how I would feel, did you?” she stepped back a little as she turned away from you shaking her head.

You didn’t dare say anything.

A few moments passed of her staring at the wall with her jaw clenched and you plastered to the door deciding whether or not to make a run for it.

She dropped her chin to her chest with a big sigh, “look,” she started calmly, which was scarier than earlier somehow, “being me,” she gestured towards herself turning back to you, “it’s hard to make friends, so when you were one of the only people that were nice to me I thought we had something going.”

“Rhea…” you drop your guard, but only a little.

“Please,” she held her hand up and you shut your mouth immediately. “I try so hard to be nice to everyone. I’ve been betrayed so many times it’s hard to let the walls down.”

Now you’re the one stepping towards her in hopes of creating some sort of comfort.

“I don’t want to be let down again,” she admits.

“I understand,” you whisper.

She didn’t take the comfort, “How could you? Everyone loves you! I’ve never seen you not make a friend. You’re so nice and caring,” her voice raised again. “So when you didn’t talk to me all day, I knew it was something I did. And I can’t bare to have another ‘friend’, ” she air quoted, “leave me because of…me.”

Your heart sank at her words. You did think of her as a friend except you wanted her to be more than a friend, which was the problem. You scoured your brain thinking of something to say that would make her feel better, until it clicked.

“You think I wanted this to happen?” you finally say.

“What?” she barks.

“I like you, Rhea, a little too much actually,” your heart was beating indescribably fast.

She just stared in surprise.

“You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”

“In lov-” she began to question.

“This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. I would’ve gotten too close and I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back,” you finally admit with a sigh. Your eyes begin to form tears but you try your best to suck them back in.

The purple eyeshadow blinks. Without a second thought, she rushed towards you grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After a few seconds, you push her away. Piercing blue eyes were just as surprised as yours as if she didn’t know she was going to do that either.

Still holding your jaw, “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t hav-”

You pull her back in by her waist to kiss her once more. Your lips moving gracefully against hers. You knew the black lipstick was smearing, but you couldn’t care less. She gently walked you backwards towards the door with a small push to pin you against it. One of her hands found its way to your back pulling you in as close as possible. Heavy breaths filled the room as lips continued to dance.

Her hand sneaked its way to the button of your pants, “can I…” she panted.

You nod your head, “mhmm,” you whine, as you go back to kissing her.

She swiftly undoes the button and sneaks her hand in, but not in your underwear. She was gently caressing your center, when small moans fell out of you. Her free hand grabbed your neck and tilted your head to the side to allow her to kiss your neck, leaving black marks as she went.

“Is this okay?” the accent whispered.

“Yess,” you breathe, “do whatever…you want to me.”

“Oh?” she kisses up your neck between words, “how about…I just… give you a taste… of what could happen…then later…I’ll show you…what I can really do,” by now her pace has quickened and the familiar knot in your stomach is quickly being untangled.

You could only nod your head in response, not wanting to moan too loud in fear of someone hearing you from the other side of the door. Your lips catch hers once more as you whine into her mouth.

It didn’t take long for you to almost come undone. Your hips were slightly riding her hand as she moved perfectly against you, “that’s it, love, don’t hold back,” she held your neck a little harder than gentle, secure against the door.

The oxygen left your lungs and the knot finally loosened as you slammed your head against the door. “Fuuuck,” you moan. Your legs were weakening by the second as she tried her best to hold you up. You scratched your way down her back as she chuckled in your ear at the slight pain.

As you came back to earth, your lips met hers a few more times before she removed her hand and buttoned your pants back up for you.

She let you catch your breath still holding you against the door but her hands were now at your waist with most of her body flush with yours. “Now, do you want me to come to your room or you come to mine?”

“I thought you had the nice bed this time,” you breathe.

“Oh yeah,” she smirked knowing what the answer was already, “my room it is then. See you there,” she kissed you once more before removing herself from you. She grabs her bags and gestures towards the door.

You open the door and let her through, following behind her. “I’ll meet you at the hotel, I have to grab my stuff,” you walk the opposite way.

“Don’t take too long, or we’ll be up all night,” she winked towards you.

“See you soon, Ripley.”

[8aji]

too busy saving everybody else to save yourself. // s.s.

to think of a life without him filled you up with such sorrow you thought you'd let yourself drown just to be with him one last time. — or, an account of the events that transpired after the night of august 14, 2003.

pairing. shinichiro sano x baji!reader

wc. 18k

tags/cw. MDNI, angst with happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, baji!reader (reader is baji’s sibling), manga spoilers, shinichiro lives, anxiety/panic attacks, smoking, mentions of death, characters cry a lot, mentions of head trauma + hospitals + needles + blood, reader gets called 'nee-chan' a couple of times but other than that its pretty gn, very suggestive (one make/out sesh), takeomi is clowned a lot + please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n. its finally done sob i spent so much time polishing this as much as i could and what was supposed to be a 1k drabble mutated into this lmfao but all in all this fic is my baby, my child, and i love it so so much i just hope y'all will like it as much as i do !! a massive thanks to @tetsutits for betaing and to @mosviqu for letting me run the storyline through her !! hope all of u enjoy lots n lots !!

m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni

One step, one blink, one breath, one step, one blink, one breath; like on autopilot, the pattern repeated itself over and over again. You could feel it beating inside your skull; the pounding of your heart resonated throughout your body, acting as the fuel behind your every move. 

Your blurry gaze amplified all of your other senses, sending your brain into a downward spiral of emotional overwhelm; the loud keyboard clicking, the obnoxious chatter, the drinking and munching of coffee and donuts, all of it made you want to tear your ears off. How could the world keep turning, people existing like normal, while you were being consumed by the tightness enveloping your lungs? The thought made you want to light up the whole building, watch it burn as the flames simmered the concrete to ashes to relieve the turmoil brewing inside your body. 

“I'm coming for Baji Keisuke?” You asked, barely managing to string the words together in a coherent sentence, head going a thousand miles per hour. “He’s my brother.”

The officer behind the desk pulled down his magazine, looking you over and taking in your dishevelled state. “Ah,” he sighed as soon as your brother's profile appeared on his screen. “Baji Keisuke, the little rascal with the breaking and entering charges, huh?”

lips forming into a thin line, you nodded, biting your tongue so as to not insult the man in front of you who, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle, as if a twelve year-old kid being detained was funny. 

“Can I see him?”

He gave you one last obnoxious glance, before typing on his computer.

“He’s currently under police custody,” he explained condescendingly as if you didn’t know, pulling a manila folder and pressing the button on the printer, handing you a pen in the meantime. “He's only got a minor charge compared to the other brat he came in here with,” He let out a quiet cackle, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. To you, it was like he acted this nonchalant to rile you up, make your blood boil. And, in spite of your reluctance to admit to it, it was working. Being in his presence made you want to punch him. “We’re betting on whether the other kid’s gonna get charged with manslaughter or not.

“And just between us,” he made a come hither motion, but leaned forward on his chair at your lack of reaction. “I’m betting in favor of manslaughter, so I'm crossing my fingers for the guy to die soon, ‘ya know?”

Had you been wearing long sleeves, he would’ve been able to see you rolling them up, emotionally prepared to be charged with aggravated assault against a police officer

Fortunately, another officer called out your name, catching your attention before you could act on the violent scenarios coursing through your brain. You didn’t bother excusing yourself before leaving to find your brother.

He looked small, smaller than he actually was, as he sat on the floor with both his knees close to his chest. His eyes were puffy and red, it was obvious he had been crying; though by the looks of it, he had yet to stop.

The cell door sounded like nails against a chalkboard as it scraped against the floor. It made him flinch in surprise, snapping him out of the borderline-dissociating trance as he looked up at the intimidating officer, trying to gauge his intentions while gathering all the energy he had left in his body to fight off the man just in case he needed to. But as soon as he made eye contact with you he could feel himself lowering his guard. 

He didn’t even hesitate, his body moved on his own, running past the officer and straight into your arms, letting the harsh sobs he had tried bottling up rack his body, along with muffled apologies and incoherent explanations.

“It's okay,” you mumbled against his hair, trying to calm down his heart wrenching cries. He nuzzled his face against your neck, trying to get impossibly closer to the sound of your voice. You waited for him to nod, still clutching at your clothes with all the remaining energy he had. “He's strong, he’ll be alright.”

Though at this point you were unsure whether your words held any weight against the grand scheme of things; hopefully all your promises won’t turn into bold-faced lies.

You made your way out of the cell together, holding his left hand as he used the other to rub at his eyes, itchy and dry from all the crying. The two of you walked past a couple of cells before he stopped for what seemed like a millisecond, mumbling something under his breath in weak anguish. Had you not been hyper aware of everything going on around you, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tug at your hand.

Kazutora sat on the floor the same way Keisuke did, knees pulled up to his chest, biting his cuticles raw to stop his brain from looping the traumatic set of events like a broken film; still, it wasn't enough to stop his whole body from trembling in shock. The distress fresh in his eyes made you want to drop everything just to hold him close, comfort him like you did with Keisuke. 

But you didn’t have much time, the officer behind you pressured the both of you to move, and considering Keisuke remained under police custody, you weren’t willing to risk him getting locked up again now that you had him by your side.

“Wait for me over there, okay?” You said, pointing at the waiting area. “I just have to fill out some paperwork and then we can go home.” He held your hand even tighter in his grasp in response, as if he was scared to let go. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Reluctantly, he dragged his feet as he walked, not wanting to stray far away from you. At least there was still some sort of stubbornness left in him. You’ve never seen him act like this, uncontrollably crying and apologising, devoid of the mischievous glint in his eyes. Knowing the Keisuke you knew was still there comforted you.

“How, uh, how much is bail gonna be?” You asked once he had made himself at home on the plastic chairs. Thankfully it was someone else behind the desk instead of the asshole you had the misery of interacting with. 

You knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, already having a grasp of fines and bail costs thanks to your friends getting into trouble, but even with this knowledge, their response sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe you could use some of your own savings, or part of your college fund. Using your mom’s money was also an option, but you didn't want to put the burden on her. If you skipped a semester it could give you some time to earn the money back, but you were already behind in a few classes, and the minimum wage from part time jobs wouldn’t stack up too much, so was it truly feasible?

Fuck, you knew they were children but you couldn’t help but curse at their recklessness, their stupidity and naivety. Did they actually think stealing a bike would be that easy? And now you have to pay for the consequences, quite literally. Of course, you could always leave him here, let him face the consequences straight on. There was nothing forcing you to bail him out. But who were you kidding, you’d kill for him, of course you were going to pay.

Making sure he was still where you left him, you looked over your shoulder back at him. He was slumped over his knees, aimlessly playing with his fingers as his eyes fixated on the corridor leading to the cells, a solemn sadness washing over his features. 

No. 

You weren’t going to. You were going to pay for your brother’s sins, or whatever the cheesy line says, and leave to never look back. You didn’t owe this other kid anything, most certainly when you couldn't afford it. But, after knowing him for so long, the thought of him staying in the middle of four cold walls until further notice broke your heart.

“Actually,” you sighed. This was gonna cost two semesters instead of one. “Could I pay for someone else’s bail as well?”

At first, he refused to acknowledge your presence, biting harder into his fingers. He tried self-soothing through slow back and forth rocking motions and the unintelligible words that spilled from his mouth, hugging himself tighter the closer you got. 

He didn’t move, frozen in place as if the lack of movement would make him invincible to the naked eye. He didn’t cave in no matter what you did, not when you kneeled in front of him nor when you whispered his name in hopes he would acknowledge your voice.

It only took a couple of seconds after that for him to shyly meet your gaze, warming up to you in an instant and clinging onto you just like Keisuke had done, though he did so with a lot more desperation, this sort of comfort foreign to Kazutora. He felt so small in your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder, the only thing he could do was claw at your body for reassurance. Other than that, he didn’t speak, didn’t cry, he almost didn’t move, to the point it had you questioning whether he was actually breathing. 

Once you coaxed him out of the cell and got a hold of your brother, your sole focus was on guiding the boys beside you out of the precinct as fast as possible, one hand holding Keisuke’s while the other rested on the back of Kazutora’s head. They didn’t need to spend more time than necessary in this place, surrounded by grimy cell blocks and seemingly socially inept officers who couldn’t keep their rambunctious laughter down.

Wakasa was sitting on his bike outside the police station waiting for the three of you, and though initially it was supposed to be just the two of you riding along with him, he wasn’t surprised you paid for your brother’s friend’s bail. He kept a fairly laid-back exterior, lit cigarette hanging from his fingers replacing his preferred strawberry flavored lollipops, inhaling back the smoke that seeped from his parted lips and freaking out on the inside.

The two of you were hanging out when multiple calls blasted through your phone, prompting you to rush to where you were now. First it was one from the hospital, one of the bearers of bad news that didn’t let you dwell on the fact that Shinichiro had written you down as one of his emergency contacts. Then came the call from the police station, sinking your heart down to the bottomless pit in your stomach.

“Everything alright?” He asked, putting out his cigarette, smothering the stick with his boot along with the other three he had finished while you were inside. 

You hummed in response, words dying in your throat. The silence around you itched and burned, made your skin prickle with discomfort, and even so, no one dared say anything besides the occasional noise of acknowledgement. They weren’t dumb. They were one-hundred percent aware of what they were doing, and this wasn’t something you could blame on their age either. Yes, they were kids, but a twelve year old should be able to discern right from wrong; aware that stealing is bad and that murdering people is wrong.

And deep down, you knew this was even more fucked up than it appeared to be. You knew Kazutora wouldn’t have cared for the victim had it not been Shinichiro. The only reason he was shaking like a leaf, flinching when Wakasa fastened the belt of his helmet against his head, was because he hurt Mikey’s brother. That’s not to say Keisuke was innocent, it was clear he wasn’t. Intentionally breaking into someone’s shop to steal a very valuable, very expensive, piece of equipment and potentially complicit in someone's murder. 

You wanted to tear your eyes off at the thought. Did they really think they could get away with this? That it would be as easy as stealing some candy or gum from the corner store? You wanted to curse them out for being so stupid, so naive. But looking down at their sunken faces, eyes bloodshot and teary as they sweated fear from every pore on their fragile skin, it made you want to excuse all their horrid behaviour, ignore the fact they committed a crime and in the process they mortally wounded an innocent man. 

You held down an involuntary gag at the violation of your principals, the memory of what had just gone down stirring unwanted bitterness inside your stomach. You were no one to criticise the two kids sitting between Wakasa and you. They could be stupid, but you were the weakest of them all.

“Let’s get going then.”

You could question your moral compass later, first you had to get them home.

The voices of the characters talking in the background faded into an uncomfortable white noise as your muscles dissolved along with your bones, breaking through your skin and seeping into the cushions of the couch. Each time you breathed in the more stressed you became at the uncertainty of your friend’s mortal status. 

You hadn’t received any news from the hospital, and though you knew that if they hadn’t called by now, they probably wouldn’t at least until tomorrow morning, that didn’t stop you from imprisoning your phone close to your chest. Maybe if you channelled all your strength into your hold then you’d lose the urge to cry.

In spite of their initial resistance, it didn’t take long to put the kids to bed. The two of them drifted off to a bitter, yet hopefully replenishing, sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It wasn’t surprising, the whole incident had drained the both of them to their core.

“‘Sure you’re okay?” Wakasa asked, and had it not been for his voice you're sure you would’ve dissociated the rest of the night. Maybe the kids would find you the next morning still sitting on the couch, frozen like a statue as you stared at the ceiling, and freak out because they’d think you had died along with ‘Shinichiro-nii’. 

You hummed, it was the only response you could muster it seemed, with your eyes zeroing in on his shoulders, then his cheeks and then his earrings. Looking straight into his eyes would do you no good. It’d blow your cover in less than an instant, and though it’s fair to say it was a shit cover, amplifying your grief through your dejected silence instead of toning it down, it made you feel safer from the imminent doom. Still, shitty cover up or not, Wakasa knew you weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be able to fool him even if he was stupid, and at this point, he’s convinced you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone; a single glance your way was enough to tell you were silently crumbling. 

He let his head fall backwards against the back of the sofa, sighing in acknowledgement. No matter how many times he asked, deep down he knew you would only cave in at your own account, But at least his question somehow managed to bring you back down from the maze your brain had started fabricating to earth. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave you enough space that’d prompt you to speak. He didn’t mind waiting. Not for a couple of seconds, or the couple of minutes those seconds turned into, or the couple of hours they mutated into next, and so on until days and weeks and years had passed, until the scarcity of time felt infinite.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You broke the silence, biting the edges of your words as if you wanted to hide them back inside, voice shaky and heavy against your tongue. 

He hesitated, sharing a seat next to you inside the same sinking uncertainty boat, “Shin-chan’s stronger than you think.” He tried reassuring you, or himself he wasn't sure, but at this point the more he tried to tell himself his friend was still breathing, the more it felt like a lie. Shin-chan was stronger than the two of you thought, but was he really? “He’d be heartbroken to know you had little faith in him.”

At least he got you to chuckle, “I’d be heartbroken to know that I was right.”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence not long after, the stakes of the conversation too high, and if you continued talking you’re sure you’d end up giving Shin up for dead. But like this, maybe you could finally force yourself to get some sleep. The weight of your eyelids had doubled, eyes growing heavier against your will, and though you didn’t want to, just in case something happened while you were unconscious, you knew you’d be of no use without at least a few hours of rest. Plus, you promised yourself you’d never lose any sleep over a guy, ever, and you weren’t about to make an exception for Shinichiro Sano.

Not even an hour in your slumber, you almost threw your phone to the other side of the room as its desperate cry pierced your ears. You’re sure Wakasa almost had a heart attack with how fast straightened up next to you, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it somehow managed to wake up both Kazutora and Keisuke, although your brother was more of a chronic heavy sleeper.

“What are you waiting for? Answer it!” Feelings heightened in his barely awake, panicked state, the desperation was palpable in his words. And though uncommon for him to act in such an erratic manner, he had bottled everything up the whole night, it was time for the stoic facade to break. 

But, even so, in spite of your friend’s heartbreaking desperation you didn’t move. Not after the third ring or the fourth. You didn’t dare move, staying frozen on the couch, groggy from waking up yet hyper-aware of everything going on around you despite your mild dissociation. The sole thought of moving towards made your brain press against your skull, screaming at you to stop. 

Not answering meant that Shinichiro could stay both simultaneously alive and dead, his fate linked to whether you picked up the call. If you didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t die after all, he’d stay stuck in the unknown limbo of immortality until you made a call. 

But then again, this was your only chance to get an update on his status. And it wasn’t only you anxiously waiting on any sort of news. Wakasa was waiting; Keisuke and Kazutora, although asleep, were as well, and you could only fathom Benkei and Takeomi’s reaction. Mikey and Emma were probably up to date, the hospital must’ve called their grandfather before they reached out to you. And looking back at the people that depended on you, it really wasn't fair to put your own self-indulgent selfishness over the needs of others, was it?

It wasn't. Of course it wasn’t, but after putting everyone before you for as long as you’ve lived, didn’t you deserve to be selfish? At least once, when it pertainted the condition of the unrequited love of your life, didn’t you deserve at least that much?

“Hello?” Wakasa answered through furrowed brows and twitching lips. From the way he spoke, you could tell he was biting on the inside of his cheek to release some tension, putting enough pressure to draw blood. “This is Wakasa Imaushi speaking,

“–can’t get to the phone right now, can’t you just talk to me?” Voice getting progressively louder, he challenged the person on the other side of the call. “He’s my best friend, don’t I deserve to know whether he’s alive or not?!”

Only when his voice broke at the weight of his own desperation did you manage to snap out of your trance, snatching the phone out of his grip, ignoring his glassy eyes as you spoke into the receiver, mumbling your name through a shakily put together voice.

You’re not sure whether you imagined it or not, almost choking on a withered sob, but you could feel the moment your teeth sunk into the skin of your hand, digging hard enough for blood to prickle to the surface, preventing any other noise from coming out. 

With your vision blurry and a tightness in your chest you could not describe, your body had gone completely numb, and yet your nerve endings were scorching under any semblance of atmospheric pressure, forcing you to feel everything, everywhere, all at once.

Had Wakasa not been there to catch you, you’d have collapsed on the ground, a pitiful wailing mess. Tears soaked through the fabric of both your clothes as you held each other close. For what felt like hours, the two of you stayed like that. Face buried against his neck and his against the top of your head, he rocked you back and forth in his arms until your tears stopped mixing themselves with your spit, sharp inhales tuning down into soft sniffles. And though his eyes burned with unshed sorrow, he kept on humming at your unintelligible mumbling.

“See? I told you he was stronger than we thought.” He whispered, though it sounded closer to a whimper, and nuzzled his cheek further against your hair. As if trying to ground himself, he gave you a tight squeeze, still in doubt whether he was trying to convince you or himself. 

Only after a while, once both of your breathing had evened out, did you raise your head up from its hideout, hesitant footsteps catching your attention.

“Nee-chan?” You heard a tiny voice coming from the hallway, a little insecure, as if he didn’t think he deserved a proper response. 

“I’m sorry ‘Tora, did we wake you?” You peeled Wakasa’s arms from your body, rubbing the haziness of your eyes away. He shook his head in response, carefully moving away from the shadows after acknowledging your lack of anger.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His puffy eyes shimmered red under the soft moonlight coming through the living room window. He took meticulous steps in your direction, side-eyeing Wakasa and still wary of you, not knowing how you would react after his intrusion. Each one was lighter than the other, the wooden floors refused to creek underneath his weight, almost as if he had trained himself to become weightlessly invisible.

Slowly as to not startle him, you stretched your arms in his direction, beckoning him towards you and silently encouraging him to trust you. Even after drying out his tears once you tucked him in bed, holding his hand a little longer while Keisuke slept next to him, you’re sure that wasn’t enough to reassure him you wouldn’t blow up on him. For Kazutora, interacting with most people felt like trying to navigate an active minefield.

Hugging him close to your body, you pulled him on your lap and softly rocked him back and forth; the same way Wakasa had done with you. He nuzzled closer to you, letting himself relax against your touch once he registered you weren't a threat, basking in your warmth. 

The silence the three of you fell under was deafening, uncomfortable even, though you didn't intend for it to be. Kazutora had this question stuck in his throat, sitting heavy against his vocal cords while the bitter taste of bile stained his tongue.

“Is…” he trailed off, still doubting whether he deserved to be asking such a question. “Is Mikey’s brother going to be okay?”

He tensed up at the lack of immediate response. The lack of positive reassurance that he hadn’t completely messed up everyone's lives made the grip he had on your arm grow tighter in fear of you letting go. 

You didn’t. You weren’t planning to do so. Even if nausea piled up at the end of your oesophagus as the conflicting set of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach, you were sure he needed you as much as you needed him to keep yourself grounded 

“He will.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, lips curled up into a smile once you felt him relax against you once again. “Right now he’s resting, we can visit him in a couple of days, if you’d like.” 

The silence amongst you became heavy once again, but inside Kazutora’s head the cacophony of your words bounced against the thick layers of bone and skin like worthless cries of distress. What he did was inconceivable, and in spite of that you still cared.

“I didn’t mean to,” barely a whisper, the words died out before they could be properly enunciated. They prickled and ached and stung at the walls of his throat. Something he couldn’t name but feel deeply inside his bones stopped himself from vomiting it all out. But mess after mess, like building blocks stacking one on top of the other, they piled up and pulled him down like a ball and chain made out of his own flesh and when he tried to pull at it to set himself free he could feel everything spilling out in a tangled cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I’m sorry!” he cried, clutching onto your shirt and arms, anything he could get a hold of to ensure you wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Holding him tightly and shushing his cries, you could do nothing more than let his tears wet at your shirt, mumble that it was okay even if it truly wasn’t; even if the two of you knew it was a lie. The weeping child in your arms did nothing but pull at your heartstring, conflicting feelings arising in your chest. In spite of the fondness you felt for the kid, the same fondness you felt for all of your little brother’s friends, you had unconsciously developed a grudge towards him, bitterness and resentment for hurting Shinichiro. 

His lashes rested against his skin, casting thin shadows under the sunlight streaming through the window. He had always looked peaceful when he was sleeping, chest rising and falling as if following a metronome’s tempo. You can remember taking long summer naps next to him and the rest of your friends, you always being the first one to wake up. Every summer the three of them arrived late to at least five Black Dragon’s meetings because they had slept in. Shinichiro had developed this antsy habit of arriving weirdly on time yet slightly late ever since then, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of letting down whoever was waiting for him; you wonder how he’d react if he knew the shop wouldn’t open today.

So peaceful yet fragile., never in your life would’ve you remotely imagined you’d be sitting next to your best friend’s hospital bed, eyes puffy and droopy while his head laid covered in bandages. The beeping of the monitor filling up the unnecessary silence that wouldn’t have otherwise been there had he been awake. 

Had he been awake, he would’ve talked to you non-stop, retelling everything that went down to the most insignificant detail, sprinkling hyperboles as much as he could just to appear a little cooler in front of you. But it's not like he had to try anyway, to appear cooler, that is, you already thought he was the coolest person in the whole wide world; though you’d go as far as saying he was the coolest person to ever exist. The sole idea made you smile, tears welling up in your eyes as you wondered if he’d blush once he found out how highly you thought of him. 

And of course, had he been awake, he would’ve been worried about everyone but him. He would’ve asked about Mikey and Emma, if they had slept over at the hospital or at home with his grandfather, who he would’ve proceeded to ask about. He would’ve bitten his tongue to prevent himself from even mentioning the economic implications of his stay, but you would’ve been able to read right through him.

Then, had he been awake, he would’ve asked about Keisuke and Kazutora. He would’ve be worried about them, berated you with a flurry of questions, emotions switching from anger to guilt in less than a millisecond; angry at your deplorable encounter with the police, guilty because he was the one that called, and maybe if he hadn’t, then Mikey’s friends wouldn't have gotten in trouble.

He would’ve asked about the shop, if anyone was there watching over it while he was resting in the hospital, deflating a little after finding out it wouldn’t open for the day. He would’ve asked about Wakasa and Benkei and Takeomi, ask if they were aware of what happened, if they had already started making fun of him after finding out a twelve year-old sent him straight to the ER; he would’ve sighed at your response, shaking his head because instead of making fun of him his friends were worried. 

Finally, he’d ask about you. And maybe you would’ve cried or laughed or screamed. Maybe tears would’ve pooled in your eyes, the fact your friend was breathing finally sinking in. Maybe you would’ve giggled at your past unjustified worries because he was here now and you never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second. Maybe you would’ve broken down, fatigue deep in your bones pulling you to the ground until you could do nothing but lay cold and empty and happy on the floor because you had not dared sleep but at least the existence of his consciousness remained.

But the only one speaking was the wind blowing through the curtains, kissing his forehead and messing up his hair just to give you the opportunity to put it back in place through the insecure brush of your fingers

Resting your forehead next to the palm of his hand, you sighed in defeat; maybe you should’ve let him rest alone. You had spent the whole morning next to him, ignoring any hunger cues alerting you it was time for breakfast or lunch or any sort of meal time that could fuel your body from complete exhaustion. Still, even if you wanted to fall asleep, it was like your subconscious wouldn’t let you. Every time you closed your eyes and felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, you were jolted awake to your own dismay. 

Not being able to rest had started to eat away at your own sanity. Only eight hours had passed, but every second felt like a thousand and at this point, you had become a walking contradiction; hungry but unable to eat, tired yet unable to fall asleep. Your body was failing you, unable to react to any sort of external or internal stimuli, and you’re sure wouldn't be able to cry no matter how much you wanted to do so.

But even then, apparently you could still scream.

The weight of his hand on top of your head caught you off guard. It almost made you fall from the chair and smack your head against the bed’s metal skeleton. Maybe if you got a concussion and slipped into a weird pseudo-coma after a harrowing God-knows-how-many-hours-long surgery he’d feel guilty enough to make up for the tachycardia that had your heart beating where your brain should be.

“Hi.” He smiled, words a little slurred as the remaining anaesthesia wore off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, I see ‘you missed me alright.”

And you did. Even though less than a day had passed since the accident, picturing a whole lifetime without him was enough to permanently alter your brain chemistry. But he was here now, he was back and he was safe and the toothy grin he sported reminded you of home.

“Don’t ‘cha know it’s rude to eat in front of someone who can only chew on ice chips?” He joked, flinching as the nurse adjusted his IV drip.

You were forced to leave the room after a flurry of hospital staff came running at your volatile reaction; Of course, you were quick to reassure that your friend had only woken up and that everything was fine, before leaving for the cafeteria; giving them some space to work on Shinichiro would be good. Plus, not that he was ‘okay’ and you weren’t worrying about his health every second of every minute of every hour, you could address the sudden pangs of hunger poking at your stomach. 

“I’ll buy you dinner once you get out.” You smiled, scooping some of the jell-o into your mouth through your innocent smile. But, again to your dismay, the mischievous glint in your eyes ratted you out. Shinichiro knew that ‘dinner’ meant the cheapest ramen you could find, maybe add an egg to spice it up, and ice cream you’d eat directly from the tub; a long lived tradition between the two of you. “I’ll even add chives this time.”

“Gee thanks,” he mocked, as if he’d rather do anything else than eat stale ramen with you. As long as he got the chance, he’d do anything. He’d probably lick the floor for you—not that he’d ever let you know, but if you asked he would, no questions asked. That’s what happens when you love someone. You’d be willing to do anything and everything for them even if it's irrational. “Can I choose the ice cream flavour at least?”

You hummed, focusing on scraping the plastic spoon against the plastic container in your hands to avoid his gaze. “Only this time though, so don’t get used to it.”

“Everything’s looking good so far, we’ll do another check up in a couple of hours.” 

Right, you were still in here. Talking like everything was seemingly normal made you forget that you were still in the hospital, watching over your post-op, bedridden friend. 

“Lay with me?” he asked, not before the both of you thanked the nurse who excused himself after gathering the remaining equipment. “Please?”

You shouldn’t, something inside your head made sure to let you know even if the urge to hold him close was overpowering. He had just barely woken up after a long emergency surgery, and you taking up space would be of no help for him to get the rest he needed. But the silent plea in the puppy dog eyes you had trained yourself so hard to resist, the subtle pout and the cute dopey-ness that had yet to wear off were far too tempting to resist. 

His little celebratory cheer made you inwardly squeal as you slowly moved to his side, watching him wince in pain while he slowly shuffled himself closer to the edge in a clumsy attempt to make some space for you.

The thumping of his heartbeat reverberated in his chest, the stress melting from out your bones. You couldn’t help but sigh in content once you laid your head on his chest. Now that you were wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like you could finally rest.

“Tired?” He mumbled against your hair, breaking the silence that had settled in the room as you basked in each other’s presence. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek against his body and almost purring like a cat at his warmth. Letting your eyes close involuntarily, you couldn’t help but be lulled to a premature slumber. With how comfortable you looked, and because your obnoxious yawning was too contagious, he wanted to do nothing but follow in your footsteps. 

Instead, his eyes stayed wide open and stuck to the ceiling as if the off off-white paint that covered the concrete was the key to shutting down his brain long enough for sleep to take over. It didn’t matter that his blood had been infused with what felt like at least twenty hundred thousand milligrams of various pain-deafening substances that were sure to knock him out in a matter of seconds, falling asleep seemed to be an unattainable goal.

Whatever they had injected into his body increased his senses’ sensitivity, multiplying it times a hundred instead of dulling them down to nothing. And it didn’t stop at the uncomfortable overtly bright fluorescent lights or the suddenly deafening sound of unoiled wheels from hospital carts being rolled around. It was the way he could feel you barely resting your weight against his body, as if scared the least amount of pressure would make his heart stop. The way he was met with your now dull eyes, almost bloodshot but not quite, sunken with a thick coat of desperation, or fear, or some sort of premature grief, as soon as he woke up. Or how, in spite of only being gone for less than a day, it seemed like you had spent a lifetime unable to exist alongside everything you held dear.

Hyper aware of all those little details and more, it hit him without warning, and suddenly, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry.

It prickled uncomfortably at his eyes, the skin around his charcoal orbs itching like it was on fire. His mouth felt cottony, smothering his airways and cutting his airflow while his tongue rested uncharacteristically heavy in his mouth with the weight of unsaid words. It broke all his bones at once, leaving him numb on the ground, still like a corpse, and unable to suppress the dooming feeling of his own life spilling from his pores, mixing with his blood until the air around him turned thick and metallic.

In the blink of an eye he had been one step closer to the grave, barely hanging onto a thread of consciousness as the view of his shop turned blurrier and blurrier, and now he was breathing. His lungs had finally regained consciousness and he could feel everything around him overwhelmingly loud and clear and close and real. 

Now awake, he could feel you laying on top of him, almost passed out due to the immeasurable amount of stress he had put you under. And maybe if it wasn’t for his reckless habit of parading around life with his guard lowered or for the lack of proper security measures at the shop—because who on earth would rob him? There’s no way he could be that unlucky. Impossible. Or maybe it was his inability to dodge, to hold his stance in a fight because even if he was strong, without proper technique he was rendered useless and, holy shit– he could’ve died.

He could’ve died and then Manjiro would’ve been forced to grow up way too soon because he would have to take care of Emma and grandpa—although knowing both his siblings, Emma was more likely to turn into the head of the house. And then his friends would’ve been left to grieve his death, make sad speeches about the best moments they had together and, fuck was Takeomi terrible at writing; his speech would just be a big mess of incoherent words stuck together. And what about the shop? Who was he leaving the shop to? And what about Inupi? Inupi was just a kid and he can’t just leave him all alone; he had promised to himself to take care of him the same way he took care of his siblings— fuck, Izana as well. Who was going to look after his brother? He was planning to introduce him to all of you guys soon. The two of you would’ve gotten along so well and,

And you. 

What about you?

You looked beyond heartbroken. Words couldn't begin to describe exactly what somberness mulled deep within that brain of yours. If this is how you reacted to the possibility of him dying, then how would’ve you reacted to him actually doing so?

A choked sob rips through his lips, the sound painful as it breaches its forceful containment.

“Shin–”

“I’m sorry.”

“What…” you trailed off. The strained cry had erased any speck of slumber. For a second you thought you had dreamt it, that your brain had finally gone off the rails and you were hearing imaginary voices. That was until you looked up at him, eyes welling up with unshed tears, body stiff as if to prevent them from falling. “What’re you sorry for?”

“I just remembered the beach trip we were planning for Manjiro’s birthday,” he sniffled, “and I think we’re gonna have to cancel.”

“That’s okay, we can reschedule—”

“Yeah but I– I know he was really excited for it, all his friends were.”

“We’ll talk to them, make sure they understand—”

“And you were excited about it too,” avoiding your eyes even after you had tried to coax him into meeting yours. He felt so far away, almost unreachable despite laying right next to you. “And I know how much you love the beach and I really wanted to go with you even if we were gonna have to chaperone six hyperactive children,

“And, and I know the guys were gonna come with and we had it all perfectly planned out with this huge dorayaki cake thing and now we’re gonna have to cancel because of me—”

“Wait,” you shush him as gently as possible, sitting up and holding his hand tightly between yours. “What do you mean ‘because of me’?”

Almost as if he had never started, your question managed to shut down his rambling like forcefully closing a water faucet. He had this estranged, far-off look darkening his face, eyes glassy, almost as if he were dissociating. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. Never in your many, many, years of friendship had you seen him lose himself like this.

“Because,” he paused, trying to swallow down the knot grappling at his throat, fighting off the urge to tear it off with his bare hands. “Because it's my fault we’re cancelling.”

“I– What’re you talking about?”

He groaned in desperation. Why was this so hard to explain? 

“I’m the one who’s bedridden.” Still dizzy after waking up and to the best of his ability, he tried sitting up, wincing in pain to then give up and lean into his forearms. “I’m the one with random needles poking through my skin, fresh off the ER because my skull was bashed into with one of my own tools and maybe, just maybe, if I had been more aware at the time, I could've avoided the hit.”

“Shin, this wasn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Can't you see?” 

“Shin–”

“D’you know what I did when I heard someone break the glass?” He looked at you expectantly, voice raised in frustration. “After I called the cops; do you?” You shook your head in response, knowing that any attempt to help him calm down would be futile. “I grabbed a wrench. 

“After the operator told me to hide and wait for help because I told them it sounded like more than one person was inside, I grabbed a stupid wrench and decided to face them,

“I decided to face them even if I'm well aware I wouldn’t be able to take two people at once.”

And though he seemed to be dead set on believing that somehow he managed to land himself in the hospital,  you wouldn’t allow him to give himself up to the restless thoughts, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge the bitter part of his brain that had gotten used to putting himself down. 

“Someone hit you from behind,” you tried, “you were ambushed, of course you wouldn't be able to take them on.”

His defeated sigh gave you some sort of uncomfortable comfort. Knowing it made you glad that he had finally given up was a conflicting feeling you wish to never re-examine or experience again.

You sat up, swallowing the foreign relief down, and scooted further up the bed’s backrest. Your elbow rested well above the pillow where he laid, and you couldn't help but use your leverage to gently brush your fingers through his hair, only relaxing once he visibly melted against your touch.

“You didn’t do this to yourself, this wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, fingertips soothing his worries as they ghosted the skin of his forehead. “You’re not responsible for every single thing that goes wrong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are.”

He can’t recall a single moment in his life in which he felt like he was relieved from his self-imposed duty—the duty of an older brother, primary caretaker, and practically a parent. Someone who must put everyone’s needs above his own well-being. He’s responsible for everything going on around him, the good, the bad, the neutral, the everything. It only made sense that the break in and the subsequent series of events were, in part, his responsibility. 

And he knew it was irrational thinking because how on earth would he have known what was going to happen? But he couldn’t help it, not when all the consequences of his actions reflected on the bigger picture; everyone relies on Shinichiro Sano, and it was his duty to fulfil. 

“And I promise you no one is disappointed in you. Not a single one of us.” You press your lips against the top of his head, smiling through your own teary eyes at the little hum he involuntarily let out. “We’re all so, so happy that you're awake and talking and I bet Manjiro would rather move his beach birthday party a hundred years from now than lose his brother six days before his birthday,

“The beach is not going anywhere, and neither are we, okay? We are not going anywhere.” 

And you knew it wasn’t not enough. Your words weren’t enough to shut up the swirling negativity spiral in his brain. But at least it was enough to calm him down, enough for him to fall asleep in spite of the dampness kissing his skin; he might have successfully managed to suppress the heart wrenching sobs, but he was not strong enough to hold back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks.

You follow through not long after, head lolling to the side in an uncomfortable position that would for sure leave your neck aching for days. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no dreaming this time. No nightmares or worst case scenarios crafted deep within your subconscious. In spite of the gloomy circumstances, the two of you had fallen asleep. Finally, being in your arms was beyond comforting. Plus, indulging in the rest your body had craved for hours made it easier to regain consciousness once Manjiro decided to jump on the two of you in surprise, never minding the possibility of further injuring his brother by mistake.

Being on the receiving end of his lovable violence hurt more than you thought it would, one of his hands landing straight on your stomach and the other on Shinichiro’s chest, but you couldn’t blame the kid. Based on what Keisuke had confided in you last night, Manjiro had witnessed both his best friends’ arrest as well as his brother being pulled out unconscious on a stretcher out of the shop.

Beyond a muffled apology, he didn’t utter anything else, like his voice had given in. He clung onto Shinichiro’s body like his life depended on it. 

A swift knock on the door caught your attention, though Manjiro didn't even bother looking up, face tucked against his brother’s body, letting himself relax as his brother’s fingers threaded through his blond locks. 

Emma poked her head from behind the wall, hands holding onto the door frame for balance. From where you laid you could see how her eyes were almost as puffy as yours. They were rimmed with a bright red, the same shade that was splotched all over her cheeks and nose. Mansaku stood beside her, holding onto his hat.

You could physically feel the relief washing over Shinichiro the moment he saw his whole family entering the room. He laid lighter next to you, with a brighter smile decorating his lips. It was like his body had melted from hard concrete right into a puddle, your previous conversation seemingly forgotten as a twinkle of warmth returned to his pretty eyes.

Careful not to let Manjiro fall in the dent you were leaving as you stood up, you beckoned Emma over. She cuddled up to Shinichiro, clinging onto him while her soft sniffles filled the silent room, and you swore you had almost started tearing up again at the sight.

Mansaku placed a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise as he acknowledged your presence. Like a wordless thank you, he nodded at you before stepping closer towards the bed, letting his hand rest on Shinichiro’s, and gently squeezed as if making sure his grandson was truly there. 

In no way shape or form was it the perfect family meetup—a perfect one wouldn’t entail the eldest-grandson-slash-parental-figure stuck in a hospital bed. But by the way they huddled together, Shinichiro pinching Manjiro’s cheeks, the latter not even fighting him off like he usually would, and patting Emma’s head in reassurance, with Mansaku displaying the ghost of a smile as he stood next to his grandchildren, the four of them gave off the feeling of everything being okay.

The familiar warmth between them left you to watch the scene like an outsider in a third-person point of view. It made you feel like you were intruding, messily glued to one of those fancy family portraits. 

In spite of both your families spending the majority of their lives around one another, you weren’t a Sano. No matter how close Keisuke and Manjiro were, no matter how much Shinichiro and you acted like a married couple with at least five children, you were never going to be one. You knew this from the start, but even so, the knowledge didn’t stop the churning of a deeply seeded loneliness inside your stomach. 

You didn’t bother with your goodbyes. Even if you had promised Shinichiro you’d spend the rest of the day together—pretending to be bothered and reluctant when you sealed it with a ‘pinky promise’ to hide the fact you’d willingly play nurse whenever he needed it—something from within told you it was your time to leave, you weren’t that important after all.

The question swirled inside your skull, bitter as it scratched your bones, as you leaned against the walls outside the hospital. At first, you intended to camp out in a waiting room, maybe join them after you had finally calmed down, but instead your legs had taken you right outside, landing you in a secluded area between the building and the many trees surrounding it so you could confidently retrieve the crushed package from your back pocket without disturbing anyone

Your thumb burned as you attempted to roll the sparkwheel of your zippo lighter, the metal forming uncomfortable crevices against your skin. You had to hold back the urge to bite down on the cigarette you had clumsily stuck between your teeth instead of your lips, frustration welling up and threatening to burst from the seams that clumsily held you together. 

Waiting for the uncomfortable itch to burn at your throat, you traced the outline of the red koi fish at the corner of the lighter, eroded after thumbing at it like a nervous tick over the years. Every time you felt your eyes water you made sure to compulsively take another drag, as if the smoke could cloud your thoughts, mixing them up with the familiar nostalgia.

Anyone would think that after incinerating your taste buds with each stick you burn, you’d get used to the taste. Whoever said it gets easier the more you do it was a liar. They were as disgusting as ever, flavour the exact same as those you had tried when you were younger, fooling around with your friends. It first started when Shinichiro and Takeomi brought a couple of cigarettes they had stolen from his grandfather to one of your hang outs. It prompted the three of you to continuously choke and make fun of each other for doing so until there were only mustard coloured butts squished on the floor. 

Neither Takeomi nor you had really enjoyed the experience, but for some reason, Shinichiro was quick to grow fond of the taste. He made sure to carry around a twelve-pack wherever he went, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in strategic places so the smell wouldn’t stick to his hair or clothes. Not soon after, the rather unhealthy habit had extended to the remaining two of you, who couldn’t help but carry your own packs to satisfy your newly birthed cravings. 

Looking back, you’re sure younger-you did that to be a little more like Shinichiro, just like Takeomi, and for other even more childish reasons like appearing more mature and attractive in his eyes; you clearly remember him having a thing for older women for a while. Sure, the two of you were the same age but still, you felt like he didn’t see you like you wanted him to, and the only way for you to change that would be to gain some more common ground with him right? 

So yeah, just like Takeomi, you wanted to be more like Shinchiro, but unlike Takeomi—as far as you know—you had started buying cigarette packets mainly to share back and forth with your best friend in, what you would call, a weak attempt at flirting. 

At least the cringe memory managed to rip you out from the insecurity whirlpool you were being sucked into, making you groan while softly hitting your head against the concrete wall. Thank god Wakasa existed to berate you into stopping the unhealthily embarrassing habit. Back then you were just a kid, but were you being for real? Were you seriously intending to build your whole life around a man to the point you’d indulge in one of the most common and deadliest habits in the world for a slim chance at a high-school romance? Fuck, was younger-you so painfully stupid to even think–

“One of you is already in the hospital, we don't need you to auto-hospitalise.”

The old man’s voice made you jump, fumbling with the cigarette until it fell to the floor. You tried to hide the coughing fit to the best of your ability while frantically stomping on the lit stick laying on the ground. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were still terrified of getting caught smoking by the man.

“Would you mind sharing one with me?” He asked, ignoring the way your face morphed into a confused frown. With nimble fingers, you opened your cigarette pack once again, handing him your lighter when he was unable to fetch his from his pockets.

“You still smoke?” You questioned, adding a hasty ‘sir’ once you noticed how informal you had sounded. 

He chuckled in response, taking another puff. “I only stopped doing it in front of the children.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle, playing with the gravel underneath your feet to avoid looking at the man at your slip-up. Still, even with your gaze fixated on the ground you could tell he was looking at you in curiosity. 

“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just,” clearing your throat, you stumbled with your words, debating in your head whether you should come up with one of your horrid cover ups or tell the truth. “You always smoked around us when we were little, like you didn’t care.”

You thought he would’ve left you alone after that, knowing you were purposely disrespectful towards him. It would’ve been better that way. Then you would’ve been left to wallow in your own self-pity in peace, with no one to stop you from finishing the seven remaining cigarettes. But he didn’t, taking you aback as he stayed rooted right by your side. 

Had you been anyone else, he would’ve called them out. To cover up his own embarrassment or to make up for the disrespect? Not even he could be sure. But he had seen you grow up next to his own grandchildren, sharing your love and caring nature with them along with your mild irascibility and your talent for keeping Shinichiro on a tight leash. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, even if most of your one-on-one interactions had consisted of you running away from him before he managed to scold you. 

He had only stopped smoking once Manjiro was born, self-awareness finally sinking into his thick skull as he watched his two grandsons play together. No one had questioned him back then, letting him sit on the couch undisturbed while he read the morning paper. It was only after Sakurako had passed away, that he had started to notice the many areas he was lacking, watching both Shinichiro and you fill the gaps in each other’s broken homes while he alienated himself from the responsibility of taking care of his family. The two of you worked so in sync, he would be of no help—or at least that was what he had told himself.

“I wasn’t the best grandfather.”

“You think?”

“I know.” He smiled at your attitude; snappy as always, the only difference was the way you now recoiled in embarrassment at your slip ups. Using his fingers to get rid of the ash, he tapped on the back of the cigarette before taking another drag. “Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t.”

Not even a noise of acknowledgement, your vocal chords had closed themselves shut at the man’s sudden mild vulnerability. Out of all the things you expected him to ever say to you, a ‘thank you’ was never on the list. He was always sporting his characteristic cartoonish frown, speaking to everyone in a clipped tone with pointed words.

“You’re more important to us than you think.” He stepped on the cigarette butt. “That is one of the reasons why I can’t let you believe what happened to my grandson was in any way your fault.”

“‘Sorry?” You mumbled in confusion, his words pulling yet another frown onto your face; did you miss any pivotal points in the conversation? How had the conversation switched from his apparent familial issues to you? 

“I know you feel guilty for what happened, even if you weren’t involved.” He sighed, not bothering to look you in the eye before continuing his speech. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s doing.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed in mild amusement, as if that wasn’t something you’ve been trying to tell yourself; all Bajis share their fuckups. But then again, of course he wouldn’t understand. “Easier said than done.”

This time you didn’t try to make up for the way had snapped at him. And bless the man for being able to read the room, because he didn’t push the conversation further. Deep down he knew you needed the outlet; you may have already cried, but all your anger was still pent up inside of you. And after everything you had done for him and his family, it was the least he could do for you. 

“It doesn’t matter what we believe, we’re always responsible for everyone’s mess.” You scoff in dismay. “It’s like we were born for our families to have a provisional caretaker. 

“So thank you for trying to tell me I didn’t break into Shinchiro’s shop, I know I didn’t, but it's still my mess to fix.” The aftertaste of the words laid heavy in your mouth, trickling down your throat like bitter bile tearing through the tissue. You didn’t like how they sounded; they were too impersonal, too selfish. You took a deep breath, holding yourself upright in spite of the pang in your chest. “Not that i wouldn’t have taken care of Shin if someone else had been responsible for what happened, I lo– I– I care too much about him to just leave him be but its just—”

You cleared your throat, “If I had made sure I knew where Keisuke was going or, or if I had actually tried to listen to him when he told me he didn’t know what to give Manjiro for his birthday then maybe– just…” 

You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence without breaking down the walls of the dam you thought you had finally managed to piece back together. You didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding them back up, you don’t think you’d be able to do it as quickly as you’d want to. But you weren’t venting your sorrows to the wind. Mansaku Sano was still standing next to you, hands locked behind his back as he waited for you to continue, and though he was well aware of the times in which he had to remain quiet, he also knew when it was time to speak up. 

“Then what?”

“Then,” you swallow, “then none of this would’ve happened, and he would’ve been okay.”

Your body itched for another cigarette, pawing at your skull for you to smother down the tears spouting from your eyes, even if the smoke would make your eyes teary once again. But with Mansaku Sano standing next to you, you didn’t dare touch a single one; it didn’t matter that you had just finished spilling your pent up emotions, you drew the line at smoking with Shinichiro’s grandfather. The thought sprouted a melancholic smile on your lips; Shinichiro would have a field day when he finds out what just went down.

The only thing left you had to ground yourself was the cold metal of your lighter, already starting to heat up at the warmth of your skin. You ran your thumb over it once again, the pattern already engraved in your mind. The habit had probably developed out of your need to be comforted by familiarity—of course the lighter was the right candidate, from its colour and texture, size and temperature, you had everything about it memorised like the back of your hand. 

“It’s a really nice lighter.” You hadn't realised you were playing with it until he spoke up; twirling it between your fingers over and over again, flipping it open and close, lighting it up before shutting the lid and extinguishing the flame. 

“Thanks,” you sniffled, and right after you finished speaking, your voice hoarse and tired, you regretted ever doing so. You felt like a child once again; like when your mom tried to comfort you after you had scraped your knee, or when a couple of older middle-schoolers had beaten your friends up. A child like when the day was finally over and you had to go back home from a play-date, or when your favourite toy had fallen inside the river while walking over a bridge. You regretted speaking the minute you had discovered your voice sounded as weak as you felt, and yet, at the mention of your beloved trinket, you felt the warm giddiness wash over your body forcing you to speak. And so, once again like a child, you did. “I got it at a summer festival, Shin got it for me.”

“I thought you said you wanted to come visit him.”

For a minute Keisuke didn’t speak. He looked straight at the ground, feet planted on the floors like roots had grown out of him as he held your hand.

Earlier this morning he had clung onto your waist while angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The moment he caught sight of you putting your shoes on the genkan he had broken into a run, letting his body smash against yours, and almost making you lose your balance. Both you and your mom had tried your hardest to calm him down for what felt like hours but to no avail. He persisted, begging for you to let him accompany you to the hospital. 

Outside of Shinichiro’s room, it was a whole other story. All of a sudden he had decided he didn’t want to see him eye to eye. His reaction made you internally groan in frustration. Had you listened to your own gut feeling telling you Keisuke wasn’t ready to come with you, it would’ve saved him the stress of making a choice for himself. Instead, you were too weak to his puppy dog eyes and wobbly pleas, and now his eyes had started to water as he tried to hold back his own hiccups. 

“I promise Shin-nii isn’t angry at you,” you cooed, kneeling down to the floor and looking up at him. When had he gotten this tall? When had he grown this much? Were your efforts enough to shape him into a decent person? “and if you truly don't feel comfortable we can go home, I promise I won’t get angry.”

He rubbed at his teary eyes with his free hand before nodding at you, trailing behind you as you stood up and knocked on the door.

“Hey!” you poked your head into the room with a smile, one that faltered as you tried to keep your mouth from falling open in awe once you noticed how the sunlight streaming from the window kissed every inch of Shinichiro’s skin as he quietly read the book you had given him as a joke. He looked up at you, pearly whites all up for display, and mumbled a soft mumbled a soft ‘hey’ right back at you; he looked so pretty he could be mistaken for an angel. “I brought Keisuke with me, ‘that okay?”

He hummed in response, marking the page he was reading before setting it aside. Even after the events that took place at the shop, you knew he wouldn’t mind your brother visiting—he had a soft spot for him after all. The verbal confirmation was more for Keisuke’s sake, who prompted by it, let go of your hand and walked into the room, a tinge of fear staining each step he took. 

Shinichiro grinned, gently waving his way. And though the both of you had always found some sense of comfort in the warmth of his smile, it took less than a second for Keisuke to burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body as he stood frozen in the middle of the room, frantically drying out his cheeks with his forearms in vain. Tears kept pouring from his caramel eyes down to his cheeks until they stained his striped shirt.

At the sight of his distress, Shinichiro tried standing up as quickly as possible, almost ripping off his tangled IV. Thankfully, you managed to stop him before he could; the moment your brother had started crying you were already by his side wrapping your arms around his fragile figure.

Much like you had done the past few days, you combed his hair with your fingers while shushing his cries. It had become almost like a habit, Keisuke running to you in the middle of the day, hugging you close while you dried his tears for him. You’d think he’d ran out of tears by now, but something you didn’t take into account was how similar the two of you were, always feeling everything too much, all at once.

“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, “you’re okay, and Shin-nii’s okay, see?” you asked him, holding his tear streaked cheeks and motioning his face to meet your gaze, waiting for his breathing to even out before you coaxed him into looking at Shinichiro. “We’ve got you, the two of us, we've got you.”

He smiled at him once again, though you could see a twinkle of sadness in his eyes, as extended one of his hands for him to take. Warily, he warmed up to the invitation, wiping the remaining tears from his face before dragging his feet to the edge of the bed, asking if he could sit with him in a very un-Keisuke nature; it was unusual for him to ask before acting on his impulses.

Shinichiro softened once he felt Keisuke nuzzling his cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, and as he did so you couldn’t help but think how his hair kept getting longer and longer with each day; hopefully no one from the school office would call you letting you know it was time to chop it off once classes were back in session.

In between hushed whispers, they talked amongst each other for a while. At first, Baji kept giving one word responses, still insecure in spite of your reassurance, but it wasn’t long before he started to loosen up, giggling between sniffles at Shinichiro’s questions and mocking his ‘honorary-brother’ back with teary jabs.

It was a solid dynamic they had been able to build after years of trust and consistent interaction; your two favourite boys extending their love to each other like they were flesh and blood. In that way, the two of them were similar, fiercely loyal and willing to give themselves up for those they loved. You were grateful that Shinichiro was there for Keisuke as he grew up, unknowingly making up for everything you lacked.

The mumble of your name caught your attention, popping your nostalgia blown bubble. Keisuke and Shinichiro alike were beckoning you over, the latter extending his arm as the two of them scooted over and patted the free space next to him.

He held your hand like you were a princess stepping onto a carriage, gingerly helping you keep your balance as you toed-off your shoes. You let out a sigh once you plopped yourself on the bed, letting his arm curl around your shoulders while he kept your hands interlocked, rubbing the skin with his thumb. In spite of the giddiness warming your stomach, you forced yourself to roll your eyes in response when he teasingly asked if you were comfortable, pretending to be bothered by his apparent clinginess 

“‘Your sister made you try the jell-o cups already?” he asked Keisuke, the younger boy looking up at him through puffy eyes and wet lashes, and once he shook his head in response he whistled, turning towards you as if disappointed. “You haven’t made him try ‘em yet?” 

“‘Came straight to see you.” You brushed off, pretending you didn’t feel his body tense beside you and smiling to yourself in subtle victory when he gulped.

“You should’ve gone to the cafeteria first.” He scolded jokingly, clicking his tongue as if that would help him hide his blushing cheeks that hurt from his own shy affection. Soon after, he switched his attention to your brother, ruffling his hair before speaking, “Remember those jell-o cups you used to share with Manjiro and Haruchiyo? The ones they sold at the konbini?”

“Yeah, but they don't have ‘em anymore,” Keisuke pouted, brows furrowed in thought. His sharp canines poked at his bottom lip, tilting his head up at Shinichiro and grinning. “Mikey almost fought the cashier guy when we found out they stopped selling them!”

“Yeah, I remembered that.” He chuckled, recalling the time he had heard the employee complain about Manjiro’s sudden aggression on one of his morning milk runs. “But guess what?” he sat on his forearms, dragging out the silence to build anticipation. He waited for the two of you to raise your heads from his chest, sharing an evident impatience as you urged him to continue. He took a deep breath before grinning once again. “They still sell ‘em over here.”

“No way! Really?!” The boy stood up in less than a second, forcing you to grab onto the neck of his t-shirt to prevent him from falling flat on his ass while he cried in glee, tears seemingly forgotten. Those jell-o cups in particular had been a staple of everyone’s childhood; you had been eating those snacks for years and years. You can clearly remember the clear disappointment in his face when he told you they had been discontinued, his somberness rubbing off on you.

“Yeah!” Shinichiro exclaimed back, scooting closer to your brother and placing one of his hands on the bed railing behind your brother, aiding you in your task of preventing Keisuke from falling to the ground. The memory had suddenly made its wake into his consciousness after mulling over ways to comfort your brother and coming up empty handed, until he had suddenly turned to his bedside table where an empty plastic cup sat with a flimsy disposable spoon. “Manjiro and Emma got a bunch from the cafeteria to take home, you could do the same.”

You were almost taken aback by the speed he used to turn his face towards you, surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash before he asked you with as much excitement he could muster, “Can we?! Please, please!?”

His pleading words made his bronze eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. You smiled and nodded without a shadow of a doubt that you’d do anything in your power to keep the toothy grin you missed on his lips.

“Does that mean I can go get one now?” He pleaded, tilting his head and yet again putting on display the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “Please? I haven't had one in years, I wanna know if they’re the same as I remember.”

“Knock yourself out.” Shinichiro said before you could respond, ruffling Keisuke’s hair before the latter jumped down, ignoring the fact you didn’t give him a proper response before running off to the cafeteria.

You sighed unimpressed, turning towards the man beside you and letting yourself slump against his figure. His chuckle only made you roll your eyes.

“What? Were you planning to say no to him?” 

He knew you too well for your own good.

“Shut up.” With a gentle push you force him back down on the bed, elbowing him lightly in the process and pressing your head back against his chest. You almost hum in satisfaction when he let himself fall back down without resistance, caving in under your touch. “I could’ve said no.”

“Yeah, right.” This time, he was the one rolling his eyes, mocking your mannerisms and chuckling when you smiled, hoping the apparent ‘nonchalance’ would mask his now increased heart rate, and the faster beating coming from the vital sign monitor.

“I could’ve!” You tried to sit up in retaliation, pretending to be annoyed, yet you didn’t resist when he pulled you back down. He held down his own giggling once he felt you cuddling up closer to his side, tracing random patterns on his dotted hospital gown and realising too late how close both your hands were. The proximity made you nervous; even if the two of you were practically laying one on top of the other, holding hands felt like a foreign act of intimacy. 

Subtly enough, you tried reaching out for the tip of his fingers, moving what seemed like less than a millimetre per minute. Soon enough, he took notice of your plan; hesitantly, he moved his own towards you, letting your fingertips rest against each other for a couple of seconds, like he was asking for your permission, before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“You really can’t stay away from me, can you?” he teased, gaze focused on your entwined hands through his lashes as he felt too shy to look anywhere near your face. It seemed that hiding the pink-ish blush staining his cheek had become his number one priority; you were so close, so everywhere, he wouldn’t want it any other way, even if the closest he’d get to you would be through friendly teasing, bordering the line of ‘definitely, a 100% and unmistakably platonic’ flirting. 

In your mind, you were desperately scavenging for any semblance of a comeback, preferably witty and with the same energy he was giving you.Instead, all you did was sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You blamed the gusty confession on a moment of weakness, likely born out of your depleting energy mixed with the way his hand fit against yours like two perfectly carved puzzle pieces. You weren’t sure why you had said what you did, the way you did; voice softening as the longing you had suppressed your whole life coated every syllable that rolled down your tongue. 

He hummed in response, giddy and satisfied, before backtracking in confusion. The lack of sarcasm or annoyance lighthearted mockery caught the two of you off-guard, though it seemed to have a bigger impact on him as his body tensed up for a moment. If you were to look up at him, you’d probably see his head tilted to the side, with warm cheeks and the ghost of a frown clouding his features.

And that’s exactly why you don’t. 

Not like this; you wouldn't allow yourself to do so, wouldn’t even dare. Not when the stakes were this high, multiple worst outcomes served on a silver platter for you to choose because once you look up at him he would notice the way you see him, like he hung up each individual constellation up in the sky on his own and then all of it would be over for you.

For the both of you. 

“Do you, uh,” the slight shake in his voice made you gulp, like you had an inkling of a very possible question he could ask. Maybe this would finally be the end of your friendship which, to your own dismay, could be very easily broken by other things that weren’t death itself, “do you know if Keisuke has talked to Manjiro yet?”

You cleared your throat, holding back the sigh of relief, and shook your head. “I don’t think he knows how.”

“He’s scared?” 

“I think so,” you pondered, “they’ve been friends since forever, I think he’s scared of losing…him.”

Knowing that both you and your brother’s situation overlapped in so many ways felt weird; both Baji siblings were scared to lose their respective Sano brothers. It sounded funny, almost cute, like both Bajis and Sanos were meant to stick together generation after generation. You would’ve giggled at the thought, explain the parallels between the two relationships to Shinichiro and laugh at the silliness of it, yet the fear that had taken possession of your body the last couple of days lingered at the thought. 

Scared of losing him.

You almost choked on the words sitting heavy in your mouth, like you had confessed to a crime. Had you been alone, maybe they would’ve urged you to cry.

“Hey, ‘you okay?” You hadn’t realised that the worry had bled onto your face, dripping down your cheeks and coating your eyelashes with sorrow until he spoke up, tearing you away from your trance. But you couldn’t help it, the lingering torture you endured at the hands of your brain replaying past events, from the bailing your brother out of jail as he sobbed to having Wakasa answer the call for you, Kazutora crying in your arms and Shinichiro blaming himself for his own accident, the more you felt like losing yourself in his embrace, tightening your hold on his hand. “You left me there for a second I thought–”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m–” you stuttered, “I don’t think I’m okay, I–”

Rejection after rejection, you’ve seen what felt like an infinite amount of his confessions go sideways, and yet he handled each and every one of them with grace. You’d attribute his resilience to the amount of first hand experience he’s had with it, and though at first it had taken a big toll on him. By now, rejection was nothing to him. He could make a fool of himself in front of anyone and he really wouldn’t care; he has told you so himself. 

But you were not Shinichiro, and you could never be him.

You were resentful and impulsive, oftentimes reacting way before you think. You were impatient and whiny, though you tried your best to suppress that particular trait to no avail. You were a selfish, self-destructive being that somehow managed to keep the insecure neediness brewing inside on the down low. 

And you could go on. You could go on because you were stubborn, volatile, melodramatic and a part of your brain really does think you were just setting yourself up for failure listing every single negative character trait that comes to mind. But it didn’t matter because that just further proves you're not Shinichiro Sano, that you were never going to be Shinichiro Sano because you were weak.

Too weak to answer the call, too weak not to try and escape uncomfortable situations, too weak to hold back the urge for a smoke, too weak to forgive Kazutora, too weak to confess your feelings for your best friend even after bawling your eyes out at the thought of a life without him.

Too weak, too weak, too weak. 

Being weak is all you’ve ever known. 

The thoughts poured and they wouldn’t stop, crashing against each other like the same bumper carts you rode along with Shinichiro at the funfair with your siblings. Back then, you were all smiles and laughter, and right now you wondered if the two of you would’ve held hands if it wasn’t for Emma sitting in the middle of you both.

And he was so warm next to you, not pressuring you to clarify whatever word-vomit you just spewed instead of a proper comeback. So sweet as he squeezed your hand to let you know he was there to help in whichever way he could to lull your worries to sleep. So kind as he took care of you when you should be the one taking care of him. Always so him.

You had no right to be a coward, at least not in front of one of the strongest and bravest people you’ve ever met. It wasn’t fair. Listing your flaws from the top of your head would never justify your body preventing itself from spilling the truth just so you could try and grasp at the fragile strings of self-pity to sew yourself back together as unspoken words necrotize your tongue. 

The same way you wouldn’t dare look at him, you wouldn’t dare stay away from him. It’d kill you just to try. So fuck every martyrish thought in your head, fuck the burned cigarette butts stained with indirect kisses, fuck the many nights the two of you spent stargazing in his garden, the infinite amount of chocolates you bought him for valentine’s day to make up for the emptiness of his locker; and the countless times he had dropped everything he was doing for the chance to spend just a couple of minutes with you. Fuck the worn out red koi fish engraved on your lighter and the possibility of breaking the promise you two made of never straying away from each other.

“I can’t stay away from you,” you took a deep breath, “I think I’d rather die than live a life without you,

“The sole idea of losing you almost sent me over the edge, and even after you were out of surgery I was a mess,” you stopped yourself again, giving yourself the chance to swallow down the knot in your throat; it didn’t work. “I was going insane without being able to talk your ear off because even when I talk about something you couldn’t give a shit about you still give a shit, you give so many shits when it comes to me, too many,

“You’re loyal and gentle and charming and you’re always smiling, and it's like, it's like you're absolutely everything good and even then you genuinely have no idea how wrapped around your finger I truly am, 

“And I don't think I’ve ever properly thanked you for existing because I don't think I’d be the same person I am right now if it wasn't for you, and even if I'm not perfect, I- I wouldn't trade myself for a better version if that meant you wouldn’t be in my life.

“So, yeah, I guess you’re right, I don’t think I can,” you let your shoulders sag, like the confession finally burned years upon years of cover-ups and excuses and fake scenarios you had come up with before bed stored in the darkest depth of your brain. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stay away from you.”

Pensive, he melted further against the pillows, letting his muscles melt at the sound of his own sighing. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you hear his smile reverberating throughout his body, and the sole idea of him possibly reciprocating your feelings made you impossibly giddy; a little too giddy. It was easy, after all, to get your hopes up once you lose yourself in him, his warmth and comfort. And for less than a second, you can see your hypothetical future with him pass right in front of your eyes, forcing you to accept a premature victory. But as the silence between the two of you started to drag itself out, you couldn't help but reluctantly welcome the acrid heartbreak tearing through your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you tensed up, “I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, it's–,” he blurted out tongue tied as if your words had snapped him out of a trance, mirroring the same giddiness you had displayed with the same hint of hesitancy, “no one has talked about me like that, I guess it just caught me off-guard.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t– don’t think I'd be able to stay away from you either– not that I want to, of course it's just– sorry give me a minute.” Looking off to the side, he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and pinching his cheeks, the skin already stained with all sorts of shades of pink. For him, it was inevitable not to become all shy and flustered, the least he could do was bite his tongue so as not to break into a fit of giggles, prevent himself from swinging his legs and twirling his short strands of hair like a lovesick middle schooler. All because of you. “Just, um, just to be clear before I look like an absolute fool, not that I don't look like an absolute fool on a daily basis, but this is a confession, right?” 

You raised your head up in confusion, tilting your head and furrowing your brows. Had you not been so baffled by his self-explanatory question you would’ve fawned over this version of him, giddy and soft and in love with you because just by looking at his eyes you could tell he was looking at you like you hung the moon up in the sky—it was easy to decipher; after staring at him the exact same way countless times, you were bound to familiarise yourself with such display of devotion. And had he not looked this adorable, you would’ve teased him for being so painfully and hopelessly dense, but you didn’t have it in you to do so, only managing to nod in response.

“So you like like me?” He continued, waiting for your reassurance, either a nod or a smile, or any signal that he was right. “So you are in love with me?”

“I mean, I wouldn't say I'm in love but if that's what makes you sleep at night.” The more you stared at his face, the dimples on his cheeks, the creasing of his eyes at your words and the giggle he couldn’t help but contain, the wider the smile creeping at his lips became.

“Will you say it then?” He prodded, moving closer to you, now unable to hide the twinge of pink that grew what seemed like a thousand shades per second.

“I don’t know,” your legs innocently dangled from the side of the bed, trying to win back control of the situation by cutting down on your proximity, and sitting up properly from your half-lying position, “will I?”

“Please?” he begged, cupping one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulling you closer until you could feel each other's breaths. His skin was warm against yours, the roughness of his palm from working non-stop at the shop offset by the tenderness he carried around for you. 

And though you wanted to drag this on, enjoying the back and forth, you were so whipped for this man that you couldn’t stop your nonchalant act from crumbling as soon as you heard him once again let out a shy giggle after he nudged your nose with his.

“I love you.” 

Voice dreamy and saccharine sweet, like confessing to your lifelong desire, you whispered, and just before your lips touched, through lidded eyes and uneven breath he whispered back ‘and I love you’. 

After his own confession, you were unable to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. All your senses were muted as his soft lips gilded against yours. The taste of the honey chapstick you applied almost compulsively melted against his tongue, and he wondered if like him, you could still faintly taste the strawberry chapstick you had gifted him a while ago; the same one he hadn’t stopped using since, going as far as asking the hospital staff to retrieve it from the pockets of the jeans he was wearing the day of the accident for him.

He bit back a whimper when he felt you bite down gently on his bottom lip, unable to ignore the way you smirk against the kiss once your hand makes its way up to the side of his neck to rest on his pulse point, in the perfect position to feel his heart doing somersaults underneath your touch. It made him want to melt right against you; the more you wandered down his body, the bigger the urge to hold you grew.

His calloused yet delicate fingers traced your skin, running from the apples of your cheeks down to your chin, coaxing you to fully give into him as he traced the tip of his tongue against your lips. He could feel himself grow hard once you gave him permission to enter, basking on the hidden whine you let out at the feeling of the warm muscle enveloping your whole body, drool pooling at the corner of both your lips.

Away from your face, he trails his hands slowly down your torso confidently ghosting the skin before the facade is broken the moment he almost freezes up once he gets to your chest. The blush on his cheeks deepened as you took notice of his apparent nervousness, laughing it off before he continued his path down to your hips, 

He was sure he was ready to die right here in your arms the moment you softly suck on his tongue, his eyes almost rolling towards the back of his skull as you hands grazed his clothed dick. The teasing touch made him groan, the vibrations against your lips feeding the urge to get closer to him. And almost like he had read your mind, you shivered at the tight grip of his hips guiding you over lap until you were resting flush against him.

“‘Want you so bad.” He panted in between giggles, nudging your noses together and pecking your lips over and over again. You barely managed to catch your breath between his kisses; when he leaned away you pulled him in, and when you did so he tried to follow the path of your lips until they were once again interlocked with his. The two of you ignored the satisfying burn of your lungs like the feeling of your bodies close against each other was good enough of a replacement for oxygen itself. “–Waited so long for this.”

He pulled you down a little harder against him, bucking his hips against your. Mewling into the kiss, you wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, perhaps taking too much enjoyment in the minimal friction against your core. The sensation of him rutting desperately against you forced you to meet his attempts for more with an equal amount of want.

“You feel so good.” you cooed, whimpering as he sucked at the skin behind your ear. “Shin, Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

Before he could stop himself, he was groaning at the praise, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck and refusing to come back up to meet your lips to hide the raging blush tinting his skin, spreading from his cheeks up to his ears.

“You like that? Like it when I say you're doing a good job?”

He hummed, though it sounded more like a whimper, and waited no time to pull your face back against his, connecting your lips again in a messy kiss, to, presumably, stop you from teasing him. He took the opportunity to indulge himself, once again tracing the outline of your lower lip with his tongue and nipping at the supple skin in retaliation.

In spite of your own reluctance, you broke the kiss first, finding the way he tried to chase your lips with his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, indescribably cute. You took a minute to fully take in this version of him, his breath uneven and with a thin sheen of sweat making some of his black locks stick to his forehead. His lips were puffy, glistening with saliva as they part involuntarily in an enrapturing appetite. 

He looked so pretty like this, you didn’t think you’d have it in you to control yourself. 

Once you had lowered the sheets covering his legs, one of your thumbs proceeded to draw circular patterns on his exposed thigh, chuckling at the way he flinched before relaxing against you. Gently ghosting your fingernails over his skin, you hiked up his hospital gown until you had full access to the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic but doing nothing aside from that.

“You want to do this here?” He pulled back, eyes wide and dazed with need yet frazzled at your sudden boldness, as if nearly dry humping in a hospital wasn’t bold enough. His hands played with the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine every time his fingers grazed your skin. He looked like a deer caught in headlines, a way cuter version of Bambi, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose against his cheek before kissing him gently, once, twice, thrice.

“Only if you want to.” 

“I do,” he swallowed, clearing his throat to keep himself lucid as he felt the tips of your fingers breaching the hem of his underwear, cold against the warmth of the covered skin. “Fuck, I really do, I need you s’bad I–”

“You fucking disgust me.” 

Like a pair of surprised kittens, the sudden interruption had the two of you jumping away from each other, almost falling off the bed while desperately trying to pull the sheets back into place. In turn Shinichiro tried helping you regain your balance, grabbing your arm before you crashed against the floor, nearly pulling down one of the hospital monitors in the process. 

“Don't you know how to knock?” You bit back, taking his comment more personally that you should’ve. 

“Didn’t think it’d be necessary.” Wakasa crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his cheek to the other. Standing beside, Benkei held a teddy bear and a lavender flower arrangement, mixed along with baby’s breaths and eucalyptus. If anyone had to guess, the bewildered expression he sported only meant he’d rather have his friend die than see whatever blasphemous activities you were performing. But then again, he probably expected to see his friend bedridden and weak instead of the free front row tickets to your ‘dry humping a post-concussed Shinichiro’ expectale. “‘Thought the worst thing we’d come across was him sleeping.”

“Why did you think coming across me sleeping d’be the worst case scenario!?” Shinichiro butted in lightheartedly, though you wouldn’t rule out the possibility of him actually being serious. “Are you saying I look ugly when I sleep?”

“No, you dumbass,” Wakasa deadpanned; even with his usual unbothered facade you could tell he was grateful for the ordinary banter, questioning his stupidity with a hidden smile. “How’re we gonna talk to you if you’re asleep.”

“Wait, what happened? I didn't see,” Takeomi joined in, panting as he held a couple of balloons that had ‘it's a boy!’ written all over them. “These two assholes left me while I was getting something to eat.”

The two of you groaned at the sound of his voice, pressing the heels of your hands against while Shinichiro hid his eyes behind his forearm. Even if you wanted to be lowkey about the whole situation, sweep it under the rug to avoid facing the embarrassment over again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone, not even Takeomi, and he wasn’t the brightest. 

Shinichiro’s hair was a tousled mess and his skin was dusted pink. Both of your lips were puffy, glistening under the fluorescent lights, and your breathing was uneven still. No matter how much the two of you tried to regulate it back to normal, it seemed to follow the rapid rhythm of each other’s heart beat.

“Nothing happened.” You grumbled, willing to attempt a lousy cover up in spite of your friend’s, including Shinichiro, giggling. Once he found out, it would be impossible for him to let it go. But even so, it took a lot of effort not to join in your friends’ laughter; it was funny to fuck with him—not literally—his puzzled frown as he borderline begged for someone to let him only feeding in your teasing. Still, once he found out. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah, talking about fuck–”

“Wakasa!” “Dude!” 

The two of you exclaimed as the blond tilted his head to the side, making his earring jingle. A teasing smile stretched on his lips as the four of you waited for Takeomi to process what was just mentioned. Knowing the speed in which the neurons within his brain transported information, it’d take a little while.

To everyone’s surprise, it only took him a couple of seconds to do so. You could visibly see it in his expression, morphing into one of amazement the minute realisation hit him straight in the face

“Did’ya– No way, you finally fucked?” And though his lack of decorum made the two men beside him laugh louder and the two of you groan as if to muffle his voice, he paid your reaction no mind other than using it as an affirmative response to his question. “No way, congrats dude! Who would’ve thought you needed to almost die just to lose your virginity.”

“I hate you so much.” Shinichiro playfully complained, a stupid grin threatening to make its way onto his lips disproving his claim. Seeing his four best friends standing around him right after waking up from what could’ve been a tragic accident made him feel all sorts of things he found himself unable to explain. It almost made him want to cry once again—happy tears this time.

“Anyway, now that you’ve got someone to stay with,” you changed the topic, interrupting yourself to fix the stray hairs sitting on top of Shinichiro’s head before caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I’ll go check whatever Keisuke’s doing, I‘ll be back in a sec.”

“Wait no, don’t go…” You had to resist the urge to give him another quick peck at the way he dragged out the ‘go’, and instead, grabbed your phone from his bedside table to respond to the missed messages coming from your mom. “Don’t leave me with these people.”

“Very funny Shitty-chiro.” Takeomi fake laughed, letting himself fall on one of the chairs nearby, stretching his arms before fully slumping against the backrest and looking at you. “But’s fine, I left Haruchiyo in charge, Senju’s with them as well.”

“Well that doesn't make things any better, does it.” At your snapping voice, he raised his hands up in surrender, as if the idea of letting a 13 year-old in charge of two 12 year-olds didn't have multiple flaws. Doing a 180° turn, you turned towards Shinichiro, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Wait, before you go,” Wakasa interrupted, stopping you from slinging your bag over your shoulder. He took the bright red candy out of his mouth with a pop, using it as a little wand to emphasise his speech, before he continued. “Who confessed first?”

“Yeah!” Takeomi sat at the end of his seat, gaze switching from Shinichiro to you and vice versa. “How did Shinichiro confess to ya’?”

Again, faster than the usual processing speed of his cognitive skills, he managed to string the hints together, gasping at the silence that settled between the two of you as you tried to silently decide who should say what. Shinichiro opened his mouth like a fish, as if trying to come up with something to appease his friend’s reaction before giving up and averting his eyes, pointing at you with his thumb.

Wakasa’s smirk only grew the more Takeomi seemed to sink back into the chair in dejection. “‘gotta pay up Omi-omi.”

The ruffling of bills and the complaints birthed out of the apparent loser’s mouth distracted you momentarily. You were about to laugh at the scene in front of you, two of them waiting with their hands stretched out as Takeomi reluctantly placed the wrong amount in his palm, grunting when Wakasa noticed it wasn’t the amount they had agreed on, before it clicked in your head.

“Pay up,” you mumbled to yourself, “Pay up, pay up? Wait, did you three bet on us?”

“Kinda,” Benkei sent you a reassuring smile, counting the hundred yen bills that were handed to him once again; when it came to money matters, Takeomi wasn’t someone you could trust. “We bet on who’d confess first.”

“And you didn’t bet on me?!” Shinchiro exclaimed, a little louder than he intended.

“Sorry man, ‘didn't have faith in you,” Wakasa folded the five crinkled bills in half before stashing them in his back pocket. “After your failed attempt I kinda accepted you weren’t going to win, Benkei was always betting against you, though.”

“But ‘ya admit it!” Takeomi jumped from his seat, waving his now empty wallet in the air like he was fencing with the worn out leather rectangle. “He did confess first!”

“Hell no, it only counts if it was a successful confession.”

“So the bet wouldn’t count if one of them got rejected? What's the point then!”

Wakasa groaned, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, “It only counts if the two of them understand whatever was done was a confession.”

“But the lighter was him confessing!”

“Takeomi, that was the vaguest confession to ever be seen by the entirety of mankind.”

“What confession are you talking about…?” You interrupted the animated discourse with a question. In spite of enjoying the banter between your friends, you remained in the dark. Shinichiro had never confessed to you, or even remotely tried to do so. You were a hundred percent certain, after all, had he done so you were sure you’d be dating by now. 

“The lighter you always carry around,” Takeomi responded, “the fish one.”

Instinctively, you patted the pocket where your zippo lighter sat, carefully trailing your thumb lightly over the red imprints as you pulled it out. It looked almost exactly the same way as it did during the summer festival. The only difference, aside from the way the metal reflected the cold hospital lights instead of fireworks and paper lanterns, were the couple of dents on the metal and the previously well-defined engraving softening over the years.

“S‘not just a fish,” Shinichiro chuckled, letting himself fall back on the bed while hiding his flustered state behind a seemingly lame explanation. At this rate, he was sure his skin could be permanently stained a pinkish-red. “It's a red koi fish.”

“Wait,” you snapped your head from the lighter to him, letting your mouth fall open in surprise, “you, you meant that?”

“What do you…mean?” Shinichiro poked, voice twisting and forcing the ‘mean’ to come out strained. Watching your shoulders tense up and, somehow, simultaneously relaxed made him wary of the whole situation, like the universe itself was playing a prank on him. And though unlikely, he wasn't ruling out the possibility of random cameras popping up from behind the door or through the window or maybe from underneath his bed with a huge poster reading ‘you’ve been pranked!’.

He had given you that lighter seven years ago, the engravings were probably faded by now, there was no way…

“Red koi fish mean romantic love, don’t they?” 

It took him a couple of seconds to properly run your words through his brain, before his eyes widened in amusement mixed with the mild disappointment his seventeen year-old-self had forced himself to ignore after his confession had gone wrong. “You knew!?” 

“Uh…yeah? We learned that in literature class.” You shrugged with a sheepish smile in an attempt to tame down the laughter that had started bubbling in your throat at his mortified reaction. He groaned at your response, throwing one of his arms over his eyes, the sound mixing with a cry as the movement pulled on the IV digging into his arm.

He licked his lips a couple of times and rubbed the skin above the needle in an attempt to soothe the ache. Stalling, he was trying to buy time before he asked anything that could potentially hurt him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Aside from flustered and pouty, slightly amused at his own failed attempt, he appeared to be a little sullen, perhaps even sad. It was obvious to you, though you didn’t know why; maybe he was blaming himself for losing the opportunity to get in a relationship with you way earlier. Or, maybe he blamed himself for putting any sort of pressure on you; back then, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how you felt about him, so maybe you had purposely ignored his advances because you didn't want him. But that couldn’t be it, could it? Less than a couple of minutes ago the two of you were confessing your love for each other, so if that were to be the case, when did your feelings for him start to change? “Did, uh, did you not like me back then?”

Looking at his hopeful yet gloomy expectant features, he appeared so small and vulnerable in front of you, you wanted to give him a hug. The question had visibly caught you off-guard, your brows furrowing as soon as he was done talking. Who would’ve thought that a seemingly innocuous event from your past would come back transformed into an apparent irrational insecurity. It prompted yet another silence upon the two of you. And though it felt eternal, it lasted only a couple of milliseconds, interrupted by both your annoyance and Takeomi munching on the chips he bought at an inflated price on one of the hospital’s vending machines. 

“Do you mind?” You turned towards the obnoxious mistake you had chosen as a friend, snickering as he shrugged in questionable indifference, mumbling a muffled ‘go on’ before motioning you two to continue with a shake of his hand. But at the lack of positive feedback from anyone in the room he stopped himself to explain.

“What? It’s like watching a live romcom,” he shoved more chips into his mouth, “The ones we watch every friday, ‘ya know what I mean?”

“Okay,” Benkei clapped both his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention before he pulled Takeomi into a standing position and pushed both him and an amused Wakasa towards the door. “Seems like all of us are hungry, we’re heading to the cafeteria real quick, we’ll send Baji back up when we’re done, sounds good?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Benkei.” You smiled at him, watching the three of them leave and sighing in satisfaction when you saw the way the gentle-giant punched Takeomi’s arm once they were far enough for his complaints to appear silent. “But to answer your question,” you turned towards Shinichiro once again, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting your hand on top of his. You could see the way he visibly relaxed against your touch, the warmth of your skin coaxing his insecurities away little by little. “I did like you very much back then, too much for it to be considered healthy, I'm pretty sure…”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Well, I, you know,” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling the embarrassment for your younger self was all over you. Why didn’t you say anything? Well, in hindsight, you didn’t think Shinchiro had it in him to use a literary reference as a means of confession. Not because he was stupid, that was Takeomi's role, but because it was very un-Shinichiro. You had been witness to the countless failed confession attempts and nothing included anything as subtle and detailed as the lighter he had gifted you. Back then, he professed his brimming infatuation with an honest smile, the well-rehearsed question ‘would you go out with me?’ and absolutely nothing else. And though the ‘courting’ period included him acting all whipped and soft, he was usually very blunt when it came to asking people out, gentle but direct. 

Although, thinking about it a little bit more in depth, he had always been very romantic, sometimes cringy with the shitty pick up lines, but during movie nights he had always chosen movies with clear romantic subplots, and you can recall that one romance poetry book he kept borrowing from the library, unable to finish it before returning it—at least that’s what you thought, by the amount of times he had taken it home.

When you were both in middle school and high school, he would watch couples holding hands with a gentle smile, sometimes going as far as spacing out and letting a dreamy sigh fall from his lips—he always brushed off the person asking the reason behind his sighing, but you were paying attention to him more often than not, so of course you knew—and of course, you couldn’t forget the many times he had shared hypothetical scenarios with the four of you, most of them consisting of him fantasising out loud the sort of dates he’d like to have with his hypothetical s/o or what he would do for them before being relentlessly teased by all of you.

So, in retrospect, him trying to confess through a pretty much evident symbol extracted from one of your favourite books was a very un-Shinichiro, Shinichiro thing to do, if that made any sense. 

“I think…I might’ve gaslit myself into believing it was a coincidence, didn't wanna get my hopes up.”

“I thought, I– I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked you.” He chuckled, scooting to the side in order to make more space for you to lay, next to him, the same you had done most of the days you had spent here. “Everybody knew I did.”

“Wait, really? I thought you were being friendly!” You let out a laugh, watching him soften up even more at your obliviousness and simultaneously hold back laughter of his own. “Don’t laugh at me! You were flirtier with Wakasa than with me!”

“You can’t blame me!” He finally laughed along with you, interlocking your fingers together and pulling you close until you were squished next to him, and waited for you to get comfortable before continuing his spiel. “Waka’s my best friend, we’ve always been like that, and you know it.” He nuzzled his cheek against your head, muttering the words in the quietest way possible, like he didn’t want to be heard by anyone but you. “Plus I couldn't flirt with you, I'd blush and cry afterwards.”

“Yeah, I’d’ve cried if you flirted with me as well.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way! Happy tears or whatever.” You sighed with a giddy grin, caressing his cheeks with the back of your hand before smushing them together, forcing a pout and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll forever be in love with you.”

© 2023 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work. affiliated with @tokyometronetwork

[jhuzen]

give and take [m.reader]

happy birthday to our beloved ⸝⸝ʚ̴̶̷̆ ̯ʚ̴̶̷̆⸝⸝ . i’m very glad i finished this just in time for his birthday. hehe. it’s a crime not to write for kuni. anyway, for coherence purposes, we call the wanderer by his first of many names. this is a very soft fic, purely self indulgent, very intimate. again another descender reader because you my dear, are otherworldly ;))

Kunikuzushi swears by his nonexistent heart that even as Scaramouche in his years of joining the Fatui did he not ever wear this much layers. He also swears that you’re doing this just to mock him, especially on sultry nights when he longs for nothing but your touch.

Yet his yearning becomes far more delayed than necessary as he watches you unbuckle leather straps of your very, very long boots, your many, many coats that just seemed to stack on top of another. Was it that cold back where you live? Surely it couldn’t compare to the Tsarita’s abode in Snezhnaya.

Many times even for a puppet like him who didn’t require sleep often fell into one when you would ask him to wait as you get ready for bed. Kunikuzushi was also sure you would wake up in the wee hours of the morning just so you can get ready. Why did your clothing require so much leather straps buckled for security? Were people always itching to tear away at your clothes when you’re off for work?

A deep scowl broke into his rather serene expression at the thought of the lowly creatures of this world and your world clawing at your pristine clothing, hoping to just catch a glimpse underneath those layers.

Kunikuzushi was really getting good at ticking himself off. Ah. No. None of it was his fault. The blame is all yours to shoulder. Even without your presence beside him, even when you’re worlds away, you still manage to find ways to tug at his heartstrings — often into melodies where his insanity and annoyance flares into an allegro, barely mellowing out until he sees your loving ( lovingly irritating, Kunikuzushi corrects) face.

Really, why must you always be busy with your work? Can’t you just be like the traveler that he would begrudgingly accompany — going on countless missions in search of their sibling. Why can’t you also just have a sibling that you must search for here in Teyvat?

He dreads the day you would suddenly take interest in other beings. And he can’t exactly keep track of the people that you meet in your own land. His surveillance is rather lacking and is only limited here in his world. All he has is your promise and the memories of your searing touches from a couple of nights before.

And the one thing that irks Kunikuzushi more than seeing you unfasten the tenth buckle in your clothing was the fact that he willingly gave his trust. Countless times he has told himself to never ever trust someone like you, someone who brings him a life full of sweet promises when all he has ever known was bitterness.

Yet you’ve breached his walls in more ways than one.

You provided heat on nights he was cold, when he needed that raw connection, you never once denied him that luxury. And when he had no heart, you gave him half of yours. You, of all people, worshipped by others, worshipped him and the ground he walked on. You waited on him hand and foot, ready to act when he asks.

Kunikuzushi’s gaze softened, perhaps its why he never demanded either to know where you go and never asked to tag along. You gave so much of yourself to him willingly and in the process, unbeknownst to him, he had also given himself to you. So much that he doesn’t feel the need to worry.

And in this sanctuary of yours that you call home — he was becoming a fixture in it. He finds himself around more even when you insisted he join the traveler when you’re away. Perhaps suddenly, the tides have changed, and now it was him who waits on you, at your beck and call, ready to do what you ask.

He’s heard countless people talk about relationships before, even when he was deemed as a kabukimono in his years of residing in Tatarasuna. Often times, he heard the words ‘give and take’, and only now is it slowly settling in. Five hundred-odd years later, he was finally understanding the crinkled smiles of the old lovebirds, the loving gazes of the newlyweds, and the bashful demeanors of young couples.

Though right now, love feels like a worm is crawling underneath his skin, itching with want to hold you, with the need to see and hear you.

And maybe it’s because he’s been good lately, that he’s slowly recuperating and recovering from his devastating actions as Scaramouche, but the fates have answered his yearning when he heard the door open.

Alas, he’s one to be cautious and stood up, ready to act if in fact it was an intruder — though he doubts it. You were revered so highly that he was sure even if you leave one single possession of yours out in the open, people would stray from it and build a shrine around it instead.

His tensed shoulders immediately dropped the moment he heard the familiar clicks the heels of your boots made against the hard floor of your home (‘Our home’, you’d correct him with a grin that could melt the cores of his insides).

He walked out of your shared room and took it upon himself to greet you in his own way. Only that when he did, he was met by you, who sluggishly leaned against the wall, diverting from your usual entrances upon your return from work.

“…You look terrible,” his tongue acted quick and Kunikuzushi desperately wished this fell into the line of those give and take moments the couples he met spoke of. Though the voice at the back of his head knew better.

Your eyes which held many stars in them that he refused to believe in before dimly glowed and it simply did not sit right with him. He hated the way you looked right now, eyes desolate of that spark that everyone including him admired you for.

“Ah… Kunikuzushi…” he also hated the way even with the crippling exhaustion you obviously had in your system, you still managed to muster a smile so filled with love just for him. “Sorry, I actually intended to surprise you yesterday.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he regarded your words, “It’s a surprise alright.”

“Haah… I should hope you let this one slide. I’ll try to surprise you tomorrow.”

“Spare me the torture,” he scoffed as he walked his way towards you, hands immediately latched onto yours as he pulled you inside your home effortlessly. “Have you eaten?”

He was glad he was built different or he would’ve toppled over with the way your frame slumped onto his for support. Slowly, his hands made its way to your back to support your weight.

“Hunger and sustenance is a societal construct that I wish to defy in my waking days.”

“Those waking days of yours will be long gone if you don’t cave into that societal construct. You’re not like me, [Name]. You need food.”

Your words were barely coherent at that point, “Can it wait until tomorrow? I haven’t eaten for two days at best. I will be alright.”

Poor Kunikuzushi could only balk at your words, completely baffled at your nonchalance of it even. He was quite sure that floating insect beside the traveler could barely go an hour without food, how in the many worlds were you even able to stand and comprehend things without food for two days?

And somehow you could read his mind. Effortlessly, you rose from his grip as new bouts of energy flooded through your system. Truly, being with him gave you the only strength you needed.

“I can go on for days without food, love. Though it definitely has diminished my independence from it. I should say, your delicacies are to blame.”

And despite his words earlier, you really were sometimes like him, unable to hold yourself accountable for the mundane things, always blaming him like how he blames you. For all the things that mean so little — like the way you smile and its correlation to the sudden giddiness he feels or the way he suddenly feels breathless with every graze of your skin against his.

Was this yet another situation of giving and taking?

Lost in his mind, Kunikuzushi barely processed how you pulled him with you into your shared room. And all of a sudden, he was faced with a brighter room. The walls were more saturated with color and he could not help but see the way the entire room managed to make you look so much better.

He almost felt his throat clog up at the way you led him in, and he couldn’t protest and only stepped inside. He has been practicing the many ways of submission in personality with Nahida, especially when she said it could greatly help his interactions with you. And while he refused to admit his need for help, even he himself could not deny it.

Kunikuzushi wanted to be better. Better for you and him and the seeds coming in bloom with every single moment you spend together.

“Love, do you mind?”

Suddenly he was pulled back into reality from his fantasies of you — completely not an unwelcome sensation as he gets to be with the real you instead of the you that lives in his head relentlessly.

Out of habit, his eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up, “Mind what?”

“Help me?” There was a spark of plea in your eyes and Kunikuzushi couldn’t fathom what you were asking for him. Only then did it become clear when you opted to spread your arms for him, letting your coat to the floor as another look from you beckoned him to come closer, “Undress me?” You finally asked.

Kunikuzushi wished he got your request before you could even voice it. With your sharp wit, you can connect the dots between your request and the way his face suddenly bloomed into a nice shade of flustered red.

How annoying.

He huffed yet complied, like always. He headed over to you and slowly unfastened the cape clasps that held the thick fabric you had. Honestly, why bother with the cape when you have a thick coat? A question he once had for you, only to be met with laughter for an answer.

(“It’s a fashion statement, love!” You would say so jovially, to which he would roll his eyes at.)

As soon as the clasp was done, he let the heavy cape fall down on the ground, adoring the way your suit just seemed to hug your figure despite being the outer layer of your grand clothing.

Subtly, his fingers traced against the embroidered patterns on your suit, often you told him that they told the stories of your sacred family, of the trials and tribulations you had to face before you were the man everyone adored. And somehow, Kunikuzushi could see it — how he only wishes you both had met sooner, so both of you wouldn’t have to face the scars you both now have.

He unbuttoned your suit with care, each button now he sees clearly, each had an insignia of your family, quite unfamiliar to his eyes but the closest he could describe it was a legless dragon with ruby red eyes.

“You know, one of these buttons I intend to replace with your mark embossed on them,” you suddenly claim and Kunikuzushi could see and feel the way his hands trembled against the last button.

He remained silent while you went on, “It’s a symbol of everlasting promise between family, friends, lovers.”

Off were the pesky suit and came on your waistcoat, plain in contrast to your grand suit. He was slowly stripping you of your clothing as you did with his dignity. Still, he persisted with sudden determination, and if he survives this, he can deem himself the strongest version of his self.

The waistcoat was off with less difficulty and he was tasked with yet another harrowing set of buttons from your dress shirt. How on earth do you survive with this much layers? This is all too concerning. Kunikuzushi really ought to see your world for himself.

The way you laughed prodded something at him as he hurriedly took off your dress shirt and was ultimately faced with the last two layers.

And suddenly Kunikuzushi felt as though the curtains should have been drawn to a close. Suddenly, he thought the way you looked was too good for anyone but him to see.

Underneath all that, you wore the one thing that did all the work for your back support — a corset snug and tight against your torso and under that was a white sleeveless top almost rivaling his black body suit with the way it seemed to cling onto you with no hopes of being pried (much like him on special nights).

He frowned and glared ahead of you, checking if there was any unsuspecting passerby that could see you through the bedroom window.

“Kuni,” you cooed so sweetly and his eyes were back on you. “Pay no mind to the rest. I’d like to have your eyes on me.”

Kuni scoffed, “I’m just checking. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in your most indecent form, you have a reputation to uphold.” His words were hollow and both you and him knew it was just a mere excuse, but you did little to refute it.

You always loved the way he would get possessive over you. And you yearned for his want for you just as much as he yearned for your attention on him.

“Worry little, beloved. I’d rather them see you and I like this than anything.”

“Shameless bastard,” Kunikuzushi hissed through his lips that you could see trembling.

You ignored the way he spat his words and only laughed, this time giving him your service.

His breath hitched as he felt your hands through his clothes, his tucked in robes slowly loosening as you slid them off his shoulders, exposing his flawless and creamy skin against the cold air of the room.

Your touch burned and it was addicting. Your fingertips lingering against the skin of his shoulder, the way you slowly caged him in your form, untucking the robes from his shorts to finally take it away. And unlike him you took care of his pristine clothes, taking it in your arms instead of letting it fall to the floor.

Kunikuzushi felt bare, not just because your actions but the way you made him feel. All of a sudden he felt seen — gazed at with so much love that he was deprived of and he could feel the trust that he knows you won’t betray any time sooner, or ever. After losing so much of himself, suddenly you came along to bring a piece of him back, except it was a piece of him that he can cherish and appreciate and truly love.

You were like the vision he received, taking the form of a god— no, a human.

Both of you were extraordinary in your own ways. You were an otherworldly being revered as a god and he was a puppet made for a god and to be one, yet this moment made you feel both so human, so fragile, and so, so soft.

He suddenly took note of the way your arms snaked into his tiny waist and the way he caved into your form, closing what little gap you two had before.

The way your skin grazed his made him feel tingly and he felt breathless for the nth time today. He swears he doesn’t have a heart, but suddenly his ears were ringing from the blood rush from his suddenly thudding chest, he swears he can’t feel anything but suddenly he was overcome with nothing but warmth and need, and he swears he could never find himself trusting you but suddenly he was pressed up against your body into complete submission.

Kunikuzushi loved you so much and he could only hope you were feeling what he was feeling in this very moment.

And maybe again, it was because he was learning to be better for you that the fates— no, that you answered his unspoken pleas this time.

You tilted his chin up with a hand so gentle and gave him a small smile that was so sweet. He couldn’t bring himself to return it, but the way his eyes screamed with so much want so earnestly was enough to give you the affirmation of how much he loved you.

You were courteous enough to lean in and press your lips against his and he quickly returned it, his arms finding their way around your shoulders. He kissed back like he needed you and you couldn’t have asked for more. Elation flooded through your veins. You my have brightened the room, but Kunikuzushi gave the warmth in it with his endearing subtlety in romancing you.

To give and to take — such a confusing concept; and yet this one, Kunikuzushi does so with ease when you’re around.

[lesbianoms]

Well I’m not a MILF because I’m not a mom, but…

You know, I’m not supposed to eat before bed (something about acid reflux messing with my eustachian tubes, it’s a whole thing lol, the joys of getting older)

But I am hungry, and it’s not like I’m planning to go to sleep for a while now: certainly not if I have you to play with. The first stages of digestion are just so enjoyable, as much as I would like to pack you away like the meal you are, I still want to stay up to experience them. I love feeling you squirm, as if you have any chance of escape. It’s cute, really. I like seeing the bulges of your hands and feet and elbows and knees as you fight against me, but all your struggles are no match for my body. After a while, I can feel you beginning to soften, your movements growing fainter as you surrender to me. I give my soft belly a little shake and feel your goopy form slosh from side to side. Doing it work nicely

I’m beginning to drift off myself now, half conscious of you gurgling into my intestines to be absorbed. Ah well, you’re nothing but nutrients to me now. Still. My belly gives a long, satisfied groan, and I lay a hand on top of it. It’s still impressively round, but delightfully squishy as I poke and prod. You must no longer be conscious now, too, but I do hope you know how much I enjoyed you

In the morning, I’ll wake up to a much smaller tummy, still working away at you. I think I’ll wear something a little more revealing today- I have a nice cropped sweater- so I can show you off. I enjoy the way my belly jiggles cutely with you as I walk

It’s up to you what happens now. If you want to reform, well, I’m sure to be hungry again sometime soon, and it can be a bother trying to find a brand new meal every time. If not, you’d be a lovely addition to my hips. I’m quite happy either way

Dear LORD this is my dream 🥵

Was smiling and kicking my feet as I finished reading this, oooouhj the amount of detail you went into here…

Tbh I kind of can’t formulate a lot of coherent responses because now I’m gonna be thinking about this scenario while I go to bed, wrapping myself up in my sheets, wishing that I was digesting in your belly…..

Uuugh and the little comments about how you’re an older woman, how you’d love to show me off with that crop sweater, about me gurgling away in your soft lower gut and the jiggle of your belly as it continues to work on me~ 🥰

Although I may have been a bit feisty, at the end of the day I’m honored to be your meal… to have made your stomach so round and squishy-soft….. curled up in that wet, hot, groaning and bubbling paradise ❤️❤️

~~~

I actually did fall asleep thinking about being your dinner, funnily enough. Was gonna post this last night but it seems your belly put me in my place before I could finish writing <3

It must be so cozy in there, so sopping wet… feeling your hands all over me as your body softens up my form. I’m getting turned on imagining all of the sounds your tummy would make as it had its way with me… and as I lose consciousness I’ll only be thinking of you 💕

I might stay on your hips for a while before I reform, just as a treat for me. I need a break from being a person, y’know? But for now I think I’ll stay gluting and brbling inside of your much smaller, but still very active tummy. Have fun breaking me down and hearing me groan and gurgle through your guts~ ❤️😍

FUCK I want you to eat me. I wanna be your tummy fat so bad!!

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 13 | NOVEMBER RAIN

PAIRING: seo changbin x reader

GENRE: hurt/comfort

WC: 0.98k

CW: reader goes through a break up and takes it hard, insecurities over being a "good partner", theres crying

PROMPT: "you came?" "you called?"

i feel bad giving binnie only the shorter oneshots. i thought this might be longer but it got more personal than i intended, so thats why it might seem rushed a bit bc i didnt want to go that into detail. btw november rain is song rec of the day, bc its an amazing song! i hope you enjoy <3

title from november rain - guns 'n roses

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

You stared at your phone in shock, unable to form any coherent thoughts at the moment. The delivered message was glowing on the screen, and every time you looked at it, it felt like knives twisting in your gut. You couldn’t believe it. This… This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. But no matter how many times you pinched and slapped yourself, you didn't wake up. It was very real, and it was happening to you. 

Your boyfriend had just broken up with you. And over a text like a coward. He didn’t provide any explanation; he just said it wasn't working anymore. You didn’t understand it. Sure, there had been some tough moments in your relationship, but you resolved those ages ago. The past few months had been nothing but happy. He had never given you any hints, any signs, or anything to indicate he was feeling that way. Hell, it wasn't even that long ago when he was telling you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him. 

You sank to your knees, feeling the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. With shaking fingers and hazy vision, you closed the conversation with your now-ex and opened a different chat. Barely registering any of your actions, you typed out a simple message. Then the phone slipped out of your fingers, and you curled into a pathetic little ball, lying on the floor of your bedroom and wetting it with your tears, wondering what led him to that decision.

Was it something you did? Were you not good enough as a partner? You weren’t the most affectionate person out there; physical contact or expressing your feelings was something you struggled with a lot. But you always did your best to make sure your ex-boyfriend - you corrected yourself - knew you loved him. Small gestures, compliments, spending time together, being his support system when he didn't believe in himself... You always thought that was an important part of a relationship, so you tried to fulfill the duty as best as you could. But it wasn't enough. You failed as a partner. You failed, you failed, you failed. Your brain kept chanting that over and over again. All of your insecurities came flooding into your brain at once. You covered your ears in a useless attempt to silence the voices in your head.

You didn't know how long you were there, curled into yourself. You just knew it was long enough for the tears to stop falling. Faintly, you heard someone in the other room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care who it was. You were too far gone in your own head. Someone pounded on your door, but you didn't answer. In the next second, the door was getting kicked down as a distressed Changbin ran through.

Seeing you on the floor in that state made him stop. He slowly kneeled down to you, bringing one hand to your hair and stroking it gently. “Are you with me? Y/N?” When he didn't get a response from you, he sat down, leaning on your bed for leverage, as his arms gently lifted you and helped you into his lap. Then his hand returned to your hair, carding his fingers through it while he whispered sweet nothings to you. “It's okay, baby. I'm here now,” he murmured, his other hand moving to stroke your back. His soothing touch slowly brought you out of your dazed state.

“Binnie,” you choked on a sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing yourself closer. Right now, he was a grounding weight around you. As long as he was there, you were going to be okay. 

“It's okay,” he said softly, not halting his ministrations even as you moved. “It's okay.” He let you lay there as long as you needed, providing you with the silent comfort you needed right now. He knew you would tell him eventually, but he also knew you needed to do that at your own pace. Pressuring you into talking would only lead to you closing off completely.

After a while, you pulled away. You had calmed down enough to talk. You looked at Changbin, who flashed you a relieved smile. Noticing the strange material that was crumpled under your fingers. You looked up at him, your lips parted in slight shock. “You're still in your stage outfit,” you whispered, looking at him in disbelief.

“We just finished the shoot when I saw your message,” he shrugged. “It said he broke up with you and to help, so I ran here. The stylists weren’t too happy, but Channie-hyung will handle it.” Changbin smiled at you. The realization dawned on you. When you texted Changbin, it was in the middle of a music show. 

“Binnie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disrupted your schedule; I was just  panicking and-"You began frantically apologizing, because this wasn't that big of a problem. You just overreacted. You didn’t need to drag Changbin into your mess. The voices got loud again.

“Hey, hey, hey. Stop,” Changbin said gently but firmly, grabbing your hands so you would stop fidgeting. He intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed to let you know he's with you. “You needed me, so I came here. I didn't have to do it, but I did. Because I care about you more than about doing a music show.” You looked up at him, your lips stretching to a smile, in spite of the mess happening in your brain. You didn’t deserve this man. Changbin was too good for you. But you were happy you had him.

You launched yourself onto him, wrapping your arms securely around his neck. “Thank you, Binnie. For being here and... and for everything,” you murmured into his shoulder. 

“Of course,” he responded, hugging you tighter.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[s0lam33y]

long game

[ day 5 Of Shuriri Week ]

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

a/n: I wasn’t gonna post today but I’d drafted this up!

Shuri has never been the biggest fan of phones. They’re not very convenient, limited as well. The most use she’s found for it is Google searches and why do that when she has her own AI?

But she somehow found herself waiting for her phone to ring. She’s in her lab, all alone, it’s too late for anyone but her to be in here anyway.

Her phone finally vibrates against her metal desk and she picks it up immediately. She smiles much wider than she should at the stupid screen. They’ve been keeping in contact for the past year, ever since Riri was sent back to MIT after the war. She and Riri call once a month if they’re both lucky. And today happens to be their lucky day.

“Wassup, Shuri.” Riri smiles, she looks as beautiful as ever, Shuri thinks. Her thick hair is pulled back into a sleek bun that Shuri has yet to see her in until right now. Her face is clear with subtle eye bags beneath them that Shuri has noticed have been beginning to worsen.

She’s got her phone on the wall behind her desk and is dressed in an oversized sweater that allows the fabric to slip a little past her shoulders.

“Hey,” Shuri smiles as she watches the scientist work diligently on a worksheet of some sort. She has this gentle crease in between her brows when she’s focused, Shuri wants to tell her she thinks it’s adorable but she holds herself back.

“Sorry for not calling you last month, I’ve been real busy.” Riri apologizes quickly, looking up momentarily to make sure Shuri understands what she is saying.

“It’s fine, I was busy too.” It’s not a lie. She was very busy but she had to make sure to clear her schedule on the day they were supposed to call and her heart sank a little when she was sent a text instead.

“How are you? I know the Royal duties are a lot. But you’re doing okay, right? You would tell me if you weren’t, right?” Riri asks while

keeping her eyes on her assignment.

Truth is, having the throne is not as bad as Shuri had imagined. She barely has time to do things she’s like but she knows it’s what her mother and father would want for her, what her brother would want for her. It’s what her people need. That’s what keeps her going.

“I’m okay,” Shuri honestly says. She wishes she could spend the rest of her days watching Riri, being with her makes her feel like herself. Not like she’s a queen or just royalty but like she’s Shuri and nothing else.

“I’m glad.”

“And you? I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself on campus.”

“I went to a party last week, shit was ass. I don’t drink like that so it wasn’t really my thing. I do wish I was in Wakanda using your cool ass tech.” Riri mentions, hearing a small laugh escape Shuri’s mouth.

“Mhm, I bet. How’s the progress on your suit?”

“Good, slow but it’s moving,” Riri admits, finally putting her pencil down and giving Shuri her full attention. It almost makes the Royal nervous.

“You lookin’ a lil tired these days, you been sleeping?” Riri questions. She herself knows how much time equations and models can take to make, as a scientist they understand that they don’t get much sleep but it doesn’t stop them from being concerned for each other.

“M’fine, I just have long hours of training and building.” Shuri sighs as a soft yawn sneaks its way out of her mouth.

“Mhm, yeah. You really gotta start taking your own advice, Princess.” Riri says with some sass in her tone. Shuri doesn’t have a rebuttal instead she chuckles because she’s afraid that if she says anything it won’t come out coherent.

She isn’t sure if it’s the rasp in Riri’s voice or the title. It’s not very accurate since she’s been crowned Queen but since Riri’s known her, it’s stuck to her like glue. Just like Riri has.

She pops up in the royal’s brain involuntarily, when she sleeps, and when she eats. It’s all consuming but a part of her doesn’t mind at all and the other is trying to fight it because, at the end of the day, they’re just friends.

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? You-“ Riri begins.

“But we just-“

“No, I can tell you need sleep. I want you to talk to me when you’re full of energy and got some comebacks ‘cause this ain’t the Shuri I know.”

“You’re irritating.”

“Whatever…g’night, Princess. Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight.”

Riri hangs up and the only thing Shuri can think about is her friend. She knows now that she’ll play the long game. And a part of her, a rather big part of her doesn’t mind at all.

[tpher]

stop making me care about topher (respectfully)

my immediate thought was to annoyingly wax poetic abt topher to make it worse so i WILL

topher is 16 by the time hes in the show and the td timeline is all fucky wucky so lets say hes been a fan since the start so hes liked total drama for around 3 years. 3 years? not a lot of time but to a TEEN??? that is SO incredibly long. ESPECIALLY if ur autistic/have a hyperfixation like topher did. so total drama, chris in particular, was his LIFE

it is especially very.. unintentionally meta that so late in the show and in one of the most hated seasons you have this character who competes on the show with the intent of trying to make it better. he still loves it (or at the very least chris) but thinks it wasnt as good as it once was (again. chris). and again as a teen w a hyperfixation it hurts to see something u like go to shit. and in tophers case, its what awakened his dream to become a host someday. so what better way than to "fix" the show you loved by taking over, right? topher certainly has the drive and the motivation to try and make his dreams a reality, even if he does waste time and get distracted a bunch.

so imagine after years and years, you finally meet your idol. youre just so excited and wanna let him know just how much of a fan you are to get on his good side in general, but also as a networking opportunity. youve always wanted to be a host, so now youre not only meeting a host but THE host. so you try to talk but he doesnt really care. and youre just complimenting him and its bugging him. and giving him constructive criticism is also not allowed. and you flat out ask if you could just.. explain a challenge to the others at least once and he gets.. mad at you?

what are you doing wrong? nothing, of course. its just him who doesnt get it. its just him who doesnt appreciate all the years YOUVE put into him. he doesnt understand all the time and effort youve put into being camera-ready and taking meticulous care of your hair and skin; including being in posing classes since age 11 and having a suspiciously intricate knowledge on plastic surgery. most people your age barely even know what theyre going to college for, youve got your whole life figured out compared to them

youve waited long enough, you have the looks and the skills, and if he wont give you what you deserve, then its time to take matters into your own hands

so you grow bitter and impatient (and frown wrinkles, oh no!). youve resulted to stealing this mans phone to contact the network yourself.

and then imagine when you finally put in the effort. and you think your dreams are coming true and it was just your idol-- your FORMER idol-- pulling a prank on you. on international television. for millions of people including potential employers to see. which also cost your team the challenge and got you eliminated in such a humiliating way.

everything you had ever worked for is gone in an instant. and its all thanks to who was once your hero. the one who gave your life a clear trajectory

the last we see of topher, he is unable to form coherent sentences and twitching. we genuinely have no idea how hes doing right now

but i hope hes okay

[paintingwhiteceilings]

Can you do Male Reader X EXO?

So, its basically when either Male reader or an EXO member is struggling with his homework.

❃EXO and helping with your school/uni work ❃

A/N: Heyyy, I am so sorry this took as long as it did. I had to take some time off of posting on Tumblr as I am about to start my graduation process for my RMA. In a way, it was super cathartic to write this prompt so it became a bit of a mix between school and uni work, I hope you don't mind :')

Regarding male x-readers: I try to keep my prompt as gender-neutral as possible, mostly so anyone can insert themselves regardless of whether they identify as male, female, non-binary, etc. However, I am totally open to doing any LGBTQIA+-specific prompts, so feel free to do so!

Xiumin/Minseok:

✾ Considering this man is rumoured to have a PhD (although not specified in what), you would think that he would be an amazing person to have around when you are struggling through your homework/coursework. However, being smart doesn’t always equate to being able to offer understandable explanations.

✾ His brain skips so many steps when he is tackling a problem or working on an essay. He knows why something is right or wrong, but he can’t really explain how he got to his answers. It comes so naturally to him that he struggles to dissect his thought processes and convey them to someone else.

✾ Ultimately, he will convince you to email your teacher/professor; they can explain it much better than he can, anyway. After having corresponded so often with professors during his own studies, he is more than capable of helping you with formulating your email in such a way that they would agree to help you out.

✾ Still, after having studied as much as he has, he understands the struggle of keeping up with homework/coursework. Considering he got his degrees whilst being an idol, he is incredible at planning his work efficiently. Thus, he instead offers to help you with creating a schedule, giving you a more healthy work-life balance.

Suho/Junmyeon:

✾ Well, considering that he has an MA in Cultural Management and talked at Stanford (plus it has been proven time and time again that Suho is incredibly intelligent), he is one of the best members to go to if you ever struggle with your homework/coursework. He strikes me as someone who, although they are incredibly smart, can explain his inner thoughts very well.

✾ Give him a whiteboard, and he will shine. Don’t ask me why, but I can totally imagine him being one of those people that is convinced that “you have to visualize things. Write it down to have more space in your head to think.” Does that work? Maybe. Is it annoying to be told time and time again to “just draw it”? Yes.

✾ If he isn’t familiar with the topic/class that you are struggling with, he will take time out of his busy schedule to familiarize himself with it. He will find a couple of sources or a handbook so that he can read up on it.

✾ A part of him enjoys studying and learning together, smiling the entire time as you do so. Despite your own stress on why you can’t seem to work through the problem/assignment, you can’t help but return his quiet enthusiasm.

Baekhyun:

✾ Another member who went to university to get his degree (although I can’t find out whether he has a BA or MA, sources are so incredibly vague) and is probably used to studying whilst being unbelievably busy. Furthermore, Suho has said before that although Baekhyun tends to be the mood maker of EXO on camera, Baekhyun is a deep thinker and has many philosophical conversations with him in private. Therefore, I can imagine him being another member who would be good at conveying his thoughts very well, offering you a coherent explanation.

✾ He would be an expert on making studying fun. Instead of having to cram a bunch of facts or read a long dry article for your next class, he would find a way to gamify it, turning it from a long boring study session into a fun competition. Although he might not be a huge help regarding the content of your class, he would help you to keep your motivation while studying.

✾ At the same time, I can totally see Baekyhun being a massive distraction while studying. You will be trying to solve a problem or work on that lengthy essay, and Baekhyun keeps trying to get you to pay attention to him, as he is too restless to sit still and study. He strikes me as someone who tries to convince you to do it tomorrow instead.

Chen/Jongdae:

✾ He has an MA in Media Advertisement so you can bet that he can sell a story. I am pretty sure Media Advertisement falls under either business or communication studies, so he will probably be not too shabby at statistics either. He will, therefore, not only sell you on why studying this particular subject is fun, but he will also be able to help you actually study the contents of most math-based subjects.

✾ Chen probably is too busy to delve deeply into the subject matter that you are trying to grasp, though. He will try, nonetheless, to work through it with you. He will sit next to you as you try to solve equations, and although he might not have mastered the theory himself, he will try to learn it with you, giving you a fresh set of eyes.

✾ I think rather than being incredible at explaining stuff, he would be an amazing person for emotional support. I can see him prioritize calming you down first and having you take a step back from studying to clear your head. He would make sure that you stay hydrated and fed while studying, preparing a bunch of snacks beforehand that he will hand out as a reward for making it through another chapter.

Chanyeol:

✾ Am I tired of repeating myself and saying “This member is smart because they got their degree”? Yes. Am I insanely impressed with most of EXO going to university whilst balancing their studies with a full-time idol career? Yes, and I will never shut up about it. Anyway, yeah Chanyeol went to university bla bla, making him, not just smart, bla  bla, but also hard-working, bla bla. You know the drill.

✾ Regardless of whether Chanyeol is well-studied in the field you are struggling in, nothing will stop him from becoming an expert. He is reading up on it as if his life depended on it, driven by his strong dislike of being bad at something. It doesn't matter whether you tell him it is okay and that you can always ask a fellow student or your teacher/lecturer; he is having none of it.

✾ At this point, he is more frustrated about not grasping a particular part of the theory than you. Even after you two manage to work through your homework/coursework, he will continue to read up on the topic until he fully understands it.

✾ He might be an overachiever and perfectionist who could’ve very well used the time that he spent on a piece of information he will never ever use again more wisely, but if anyone ever needs to know more about that specific theory, he can tell them everything.

D.O./Kyungsoo:

✾ Listen, I love him with every fibre in my body, and I will continue to do so until I turn to dust, but Kyungsoo has admitted, on several occasions, that he is not a big fan of studying. Sure, he got his degree, just like the others, and got his culinary license, indicating that he is more than capable of retaining a ton of information and working through difficult assignments/problems. But, does he enjoy studying? No, not really; he got it over with and seems glad to be done.

✾ So, when you ask him to help you with your homework/coursework, he will remind you, at least seven times, that he isn’t too good at studying and that there are better people to ask for help instead. He will try his best, albeit reluctantly, reminding you continuously to lower your expectations.

✾ In the end, he will try to help out in a different way, either by supplying you with a ton of study snacks or recounting how he worked through tough assignments back when he was in university, with the hope that maybe it works for you as it did for him. He makes sure that you are as comfortable as you can be, convinced he can’t do much more than that.  

Kai/Jongin:

✾ Listen, don’t get me wrong, I adore Kai. However, I have to say that he is not the brightest when it comes to academia (at least compared to the rest of EXO) or, like, his common sense. Yes, he had his moments of genius in New World, and I am sure that when it comes to memorizing dance and lyrics, he is insanely good. However, give him a math problem, and he will cry.

✾ Kai strikes me as someone who was exhilarated to be done with school, not seeing the point of going to university like the rest of his members. When you ask him to help you out with your home/coursework, something inside of him dies as he knows nothing that will be leaving his mouth will be helpful. He is too sweet to say no and will try his hardest to help you with whatever you are struggling with. Nevertheless, he is even more lost than you upon reading your assignment, confused by all the fancy words the assignment seems to be using.  

✾ Nevertheless, Kai would be an amazing person if you need someone to talk to without necessarily needing any advice/answers, just to get your own ideas out of your head. He knows exactly when to nod and say “hmhm”,  aware that you don’t necessarily want to get his input, only needing him to work through your thoughts and ideas on your own.

✾ Honestly, he gets an A for effort for me. Kai is good vibes only, and he would give you a hug for support.

Sehun:

✾ Another one who is glad he finished school and never has to go back. Again, don’t get me wrong, I love Sehun, but you can’t deny that he isn’t the smartest person in the room. As Suho said during EXO Ladder, “I think, they (the beluga whales) have the same IQ as Sehun” after noting they have an IQ of 60-90.

✾ Where Kai still tries to help out, he flat-out refuses. What do you mean you need his help finishing your work? He is so unapologetic about it too and slightly offended; why did you have to remind him about the horror that is school? He left that behind him and under no circumstances will he ever be dragged back in. He is rich, and he needs no degree.

✾ Such a bad influence on you as he tries to keep you from doing your work. “Well, if you are struggling with your homework you might as well take a break and go to the convenience store with me.” Funnily enough, it actually helps to clear your head. Sometimes the best thing to do is to step away and try again with a clearer mind. Sehun maintains that it was his plan all along; you doubt it.

✾ He will end up asking one of his members to assist you with your homework, calling in a favour with, for instance, Suho. They are all down bad for him, so you end up with the best tutors EXO has to offer.

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