#literally everything that he goes through is turned into something 'good' because that's the POINT!!!!

[bylertruther]

"will shouldn't use a gun in season five because his father probably taught him how to use one and that could be a bad reminder for him" have you considered that will using what was very likely a Bad experience to save his life in what is undoubtedly an even worse experience could be a good thing? have you considered that him using a skill he was forced to learn to save not only himself but (as is likely more important and meaningful to him) the lives of others could give him a sense of usefulness and safety knowing that he isn't defenseless and can stand his and others' ground if need be? especially considering that's a skill that we've only seen hopper and nancy possess, making it that much more valuable and himself more helpful to the group? after everything in s1 and s2, he's probably felt guilty for having endangered them and dozens of other people multiple times, i don't think it'd be out there for him to feel "happy" that he can finally return the favor and protect them for once (especially after having complained about being babied and treated like a doll).

"will doesn't have and shouldn't have powers because that makes him different and he doesn't want to be different" not only are you wrong lol <3 but how have you not noticed that will's entire thing since the very beginning is that he is different and he knows it and while he does get his heart broken over the fact that this means he faces constant unfairness in life, he still refuses to be any other way? will doesn't conform nor does he ever try to even when others try to force or shame him to. he gets frustrated and upset at being treated differently, yes, but he stays true to himself. to battle that feeling he sometimes gets that tells him he's a mistake, a feeling he gets not from his own otherness but from living in a world that Makes it an otherness and thus isolates him for it, he seeks out that which he loves and enjoys and throws himself wholeheartedly at it. will lives his truth and is willing to suffer the consequences for it. he refuses to live in darkness and let it take a hold of him. he holds on to hope and all that makes him feel better for being different. he holds on to art, to dnd, to video games, to his family and his friends, and everything that brings him joy and reminds him that it's okay to be different. in s1 joyce defends will ("he's missing is what he is") and jonathan tells him he shouldn't like things that other people (namely their homophobic dad) try to force him to like, that he should like what he genuinely likes. in s2 jonathan gives will the freak speech and tells him that no one normal ever accomplished anything and mentions bowie. in s3, he doesn't get a speech, (though joyce does tell him that when he falls in love he won't find it gross [avoiding the word girlfriend and leaving it neutral]) but he does face backlash from someone that IS trying to conform and IS shaming will for not letting go of "childish" things aka his interests, what's important to him, and what he wants. does will back down or shy away in shame? no. instead, he lets mike sit in his shame for having said something that hurtful, and he says "yeah. i guess i did. i really did." clearly this is a conversation about what makes will different aka his sexuality bc he goes and destroys castle byers (the safe place he and his brother built once their homophobic dad left which is a place will can be himself unapologetically) with what is likely a bat that lonnie gave him when trying to get him into baseball. he calls himself stupid and donates his dnd books, but i don't see this as an act of conformity (he tells mike as much, suggesting he'll just use his books + if he was ashamed he wouldn't have painted the party as their dnd characters and given it to him of all people lol). he felt stupid because he thought they'd always be crazy together, that they were of the same mind and heart still, and that they had the same brand of "otherness" if you catch my drift. then in s4 we get jonathan's tender "you're my brother and there is nothing absolutely nothing that will ever change that" which is the most direct anyone has ever been about that which makes will different. and he doesn't shy away from it! he doesn't deny it, because we can see from his confession and how he breaks down that he's desperately been wanting and needing to hear that. he accepts that love and allows himself to be held and seen by someone else, as he has every other time. because will doesn't hate being different, he just hates that he has to live in a world where that's seen as wrong and thus makes him feel like he doesn't belong because of it. but he doesn't change himself. he doesn't feel ashamed of it. he doesn't see it as a flaw in himself or others and he never has. will is different and he knows it and he wouldn't have it any other way.

will's story since the beginning has been about being different and going through awful things, and managing to not only find the light in it but also make it out stronger because of it all. it's always been about using what makes him different as a good thing and as something he uses to save himself and others.

will being good with a gun bought him time with whatever kidnapped him. will knowing how to run and hide kept him alive in the upside down. will acted as a spy while possessed and managed not only to save hopper but also tell them how to finish this. will's experiences and senses helped them figure out what was happening in season three. will's love and loyalty inspires mike and manages to bring him to a better place even if just for a moment in the van, and again he's the one that knows vecna's current state, aaaand had he been in hawkins at the time it likely would've gone a lot better because as dustin said "we need will".

taking something awful and turning it into a good thing and a source of strength is a wonderful trope. it's inspiring and empowering not only for the character but for those that could use that hope and reminder that there's always a silver lining, that life isn't all darkness and shadows and hurt. not only that, but it's something that they've literally always done for will since the very beginning. he is the prime character for that. his entire message has always been that it's okay to be different and that you can find strength and peace in that; that the things that make you different aren't a detriment, they're precisely what make you strong. like... i'm sorry, but have you not been paying attention at all whatsoever this entire time or... :/

[triptuckers]

I've got you - percy jackson

Request: yeah! "percy x fem!reader are on an unofficial quest together just before the big titan war (so set just before last olympian). idk what the quest is but basically reader gets injured during a fight w a bunch of monsters and percy goes a little crazy and does everything he can to protect her and once all the monsters are dead he’s super gentle and sweet w her??" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you're busy battling a handful of monsters when for a second it looks as if it might be your last fight. luckily, percy is there Warnings:  fighting, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, angst Word count:  1K A/N: the show creators need to add grover's song from ep3 to spotify because it's been stuck in my head since wednesday. thanks for your request, enjoy!

gods forbid you're ever on a quiet quest.

you can't wait to get this over with so you can go back to camp and actually get a decent amount of undisturbed sleep.

the other kids at camp are probably spending their afternoon relaxing, or polishing their weapons, or sitting by the lake, or literally anything that's peaceful. not you and percy.

you're busy getting rid of at least half a dozen monsters.

percy's is in the distance, fighting his way through a couple of monsters. he's a blur of movement and you occasionally hear him curse or make a sound.

you know percy can handle himself. but it doesn't stop you from looking over your shoulder every once in a while, to check on him.

the second time you try to catch a glimpse of percy, it's a mistake.

you feel something sharp sink into your side.

with one swing of your sword you decapitate the monster, but not before his fang breaks off, still stuck in your leg.

'oh fuck.' you mutter as you see blood start to gush out of the wound around the fang.

but there's no time to rest. another monster lashes out at you, raking his claws through your shoulder.

you yell out in pain, getting percy's attention.

you drive your sword through the monster just as percy starts running toward you.

'fuck.' you mutter, looking at your leg.

well, that doesn't look good. you know demigods don't live long. but you would have liked some more time with percy. preferably when you don't have to fight monsters.

'y/n!' yells percy, who has nearly reached you.

'percy...' you say as he catches you before you fall to the ground.

'shit, hold on.' says percy. he carefully lowers you to the ground in his arms. there's a panicked look in his eyes as he looks at your leg.

he quickly reaches down and tears off a piece of his shirt.

'percy!' you yell, looking at a monster that's running towards the two of you at full speed.

with one swift motion, percy slices through the monster with his sword, then he drops it and turns back to you.

he pulls you towards him and wraps the piece of his shirt around your thigh, above your wound.

'how many behind me?' he says.

you look over his shoulder, quickly counting the monsters that are making their way to you. it doesn't look good. 'seven.'

'sorry.'

'wait, for what-'

you're cut off as percy pulls the knot tight, sending a sharp pain through your leg.

'fuck! percy!' you curse.

'I said sorry. stay here do not pull that out.' says percy, pointing at the fang that's still stuck in your leg. he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before turning around and charging the monsters.

you knew percy could fight but holy shit.

it's like he moves with unnatural speed as he works his way through the monsters, making sure none of them slip past him to you.

even more so, he makes it look easy. almost god-like.

when you overheard someone from your cabin say that he's the most powerful demigod of your generation, you thought "sure he's a poseidon kid, it makes sense". you hadn't really thought much of it.

to you percy had always been, well, percy.

he always makes you laugh with bad jokes and saves you a spot at the campfire. he'll walk with you to your cabin if it's raining so you wouldn't get soaked. he prefers to sleep with you next to him, claiming it's so he won't get nightmares, but you know it's because he just wants to use you as his pillow.

but as you see him fighting off the monsters, lashing out and stabbing them like it's nothing, you realise what others see when they look at him.

suddenly percy is in front of you again, brushing monster dust off of his shoulder like it's no big deal.

'you okay?' he says, kneeling in front of you. he reaches out to gently cup your face.

you're silent as you look at him.

'y/n?' he says, looking you in your eyes, brows furrowed.

'did I mention I'm like, really really in love with you?' you say.

percy smiles briefly. 'yeah you've mentioned it.' he says. 'how are you feeling?'

'lucky to have you on my side.'

'I meant your leg, y/n.' he says, moving so he can inspect your leg.

'still hurts.'

'that shoulder also looks bad.' says percy. 'listen, I'll pull the fang out and give you nectar but it will still hurt, okay? then we'll look at your shoulder.'

'alright, make it quick.'

percy nods, then hands you some nectar.

'want me to count down?' he asks.

you nod, reaching out to take one of his hands in yours.

percy wraps his free hand around the fang.

you take a deep breath and nod at percy.

percy looks you in the eye and gives you an encouraging smile. 'sorry in advance. 3... 2... 1!'

with one swift motion he pulls the fang out. blood gushes out of the wound and the pain is unbearable. you close your eyes and feel how percy gently pushes the nectar to you and you take a sip.

it tastes like the drink sally made for you when you visited percy's home for the first time.

you keep your eyes closed as you wait for the pain to go away. you can feel percy rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, comforting you.

'it's already helping.' says percy softly.

you reach out and wrap your arms around percy.

'it's okay. I've got you.' says percy, holding you close. 'we can sit here for a while, but then we have to keep moving, okay?'

'okay.' you say, feeling percy press a kiss to your forehead.

you're really glad percy's here with you. if it weren't for him, you're not sure you would have made it back to camp in one piece, or at all.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

The sheer development of botw/totk zelink…

Zelda didn’t originally like Link. She outright avoided him at all costs and wasn’t particularly nice to him. And despite her own efforts, Link’s own determination and devotion to his role finally wore her down to the point where she realized how wrong she had judged him.

Link was a prodigy, he had the sword that would seal the darkness already (had since he was a mere preteen) and was known for besting adults in duels as a literal child. She was born with powers she couldn’t unlock despite all the effort she put in. She thought he was simply handed his fortunes in life with no consequences, while she struggled daily to uphold her father’s expectations for her and neglect her own hobbies.

But when Link steadfastly protected her in a place she had specifically gone to in order to escape him, she sees the truth behind it all. Link is determined. He never backs down from a fight. He’s also reckless and she understands this as she chastises him and worries over his well-being. He’s knowledgeable about horses and has good advice, always willing to share it when someone (aka Zelda) needs to hear it. She learns bit by bit about Link until she outright questions why he doesn’t talk much. And he genuinely hesitates but decides that he can share this with her. She’s the only one he ever has. Because she asked.

And he tells her. The sword on his back brings a great responsibility and massive burden to bare. He feels the need to be strong and to be the stoic perfect knight to take on the role everyone expects him to play.

They become much closer after this and there’s multiple times we see Link actually neglect his role as her protector in order to just be there for Zelda as her friend. Once in the spring memory where he turns after Zelda berated her inability to awaken her power and the second when they’re literally running away from murder bots and he doesn’t force her to continue when she slips but rather kneels, listens, and comforts her.

And to find out that Zelda’s love for Link is the reason she awakened her powers and that it’s canonically proven through Kass’ song? Wow. And that doesn’t even BEGIN their story and how it ends in totk.

In botw, the Japanese original logs are written by Link himself and it’s revealed that one of his motivators in saving Zelda was to see her smile once again. Just. Remember that.

Of course the game end and we do see Link and Zelda planning on traveling to investigate Vah Ruta. And we find out in ToTK that the two are inseparable, so much so that without Zelda by his side no one recognizes Link beyond the characters that genuinely know him through the story.

They’ve traveled across Hyrule and helped numerous people, no matter what it was. They live together in Hateno, where they helped to build a school and even teach the kids there. They founded expedition and research teams, reformed a guard, and even found the time to ‘vacation’ at Lurelin where they would go up to Lover’s Pond in the evening.

Zelda and Link create a home out of Hyrule. It’s no longer a desolate, sparingly populated land. It’s being reformed. It’s being cared for. It’s their home. They lost theirs 100years prior but they’ve steadily worked to make it a home once again. They were healing. Together.

So losing Zelda again, being unable to reach her, and also losing his sword. . . It’s a lot. But the thing he knows he must do— Find Princess Zelda. Despite knowing exactly where Zelda is after you finish the Tears of the Dragon Quest, Link does not complete it. Because he hasn’t found his Zelda. The one that rambles on about everything and gets excited about history and new discoveries. The one that tried to make him eat a frog (albeit she was on to something). She isn’t home.

Meanwhile Zelda. . . Zelda goes on about Link, enough for Sonia to know all about him and his tendency to worry over Zelda’s well-being. And then we have memory eight that has Zelda practically gushing about him to her pseudo-parents and promptly being teased for it. Then, as Zelda finally understands why she is in the past, she ensures Link has everything he could need in order to win. Because to her, Link and Hyrule surviving is a must. She sacrifices herself to ensure that.

And yet. . . Link is determined to bring her back. Hyrule won’t be the home they’ve worked so hard to make it so without her. He can’t quit until they find a way to revert her back. So when Rauru and Sonia channel their power through Link, it takes a moment for him to understand by when he does… WHOOH boy does the determination SHINE in his eyes.

And he gets her back. He reaches her. Protects her just as she did for him in the form of restoring the Master Sword. And she immediately rambles.

We don’t get to see Link’s reaction to any of this. But then we end with “Link, I’m home” and a SMILE. Because that’s all Link wants. For Zelda to be safe and smiling.

Ultimately, they just want to be home. And home is with the other.

[skyeventide]

does the Oath of Feanor work as a magical compulsion, or does it have magical properties, and are its consequences real?

yes, because the magic of Arda is also based on words of power, and it would be dissatisfying and limiting to assume that somehow that power doesn't work in this specific instance. no, because even if Feanor is the one speaking, not even his power could bend the fate of elves to that extent. yes, because the fate of any one people can be bent, delayed, or weirdly modified until an oath is fulfilled; in LOTR, the ghosts of the path of the dead prove it. no, because Manwe and Varda would not feel bound to enforce an oath of death with them as witnesses, and it goes against the rules of oathing. yes, because the enforcer is Eru, they just stand as witnesses and do not have the power to release the swearers as Eru would. no, because we don't even know if Eru accepted that oath. yes, because if the oath was invalid from the start, it would be beyond callous of Manwe and Varda not to inform the swearers and allow the consequences of the oath to happen. no, because a magical compulsion would remove or to an extent at least lessen responsibility of actions taken in its pursuit. yes, because the author of the story acknowledges a certain "will" of the oath by making it wake or sleep with active verbs. no, because even swearing without additional magic on top can feel like a compulsion to do things or to keep going that otherwise would not exist or not be felt by a given swearer. yes, because no matter what the everlasting darkness is or does, it can be real independently from any other prior compulsion to act; in other words, there may not be a magical property to the oath, but its called consequences for the swearers are very real. no, because there's several slightly different versions of the oath across the texts, and it's impossible to do a literal, word for word reading of its lines if it's possible to recite it slightly differently at a given time. yes, because the only valid version is the original pronounced by Feanor in Tirion, you can't wiggle out of that one. no, because who's to say that was recorded correctly, it's far too poetic for a sudden decision. yes, because who's to say that Feanor couldn't whip out all that via improvisation, I bet he could. yes, because other characters beyond the sons of Feanor treat the oath as something absolutely serious and real, and that includes Finrod in speaking to Andreth, when he says that Eru's name is not called upon even in jest, as well as Melian, when pointing out the strong forces awakened by involving that power. no, because neither of them can talk to Eru anyway. yes, because it's narratively more satisfying to imagine characters morally struggle against something that is eventually unbreakable and unavoidable like in any good tragedy. no, because it's narratively more satisfying to imagine characters do it to themselves and compromise with who they are out of family loyalty. yes, because the curse of Mandos actively turns it against the swearers into a betraying force, a consequence that wouldn't otherwise be a given, that is, nothing says that everything they start well would have finished badly and that the oath would have led them to defeat, and if it weren't magical before Mandos' addition, it is now. no, because Amrod's death in a draft would prove it breakable through his (admittedly only guessed) desire to turn back. yes, because he still died in the process, aka the everlasting darkness claimed him for being an oathbreaker. no, because how is it possible that it's simultaneously unbreakable and broken. yes, because the fate of arda and that of elves is inscribed within the eternal paradox of everything being predicted and everything being free will, and that will never be solved, neither regarding the fate of the elves nor the oath of Feanor. no, because the oath is a narrative device. yes, because the oath is a narrative device. three hundred more lines.

hope this helps. hope it doesn't. your pick.

[ranhaitanisgf]

🤺back🤺🤺🤺back i say🤺🤺 it’s my turn to request something for hana’s event🤺

may i please request a scenario with baji + flower shop in which he goes to buy his mom flowers as an apology but doesn’t know what to get, so he just picks out random flowers that actually mean everything except “i’m sorry” so you help him out?

by the way, you don’t have to write this part, but i just thought it would be cute if he develops a crush on you and you see him at a different flower shop buying a small bouquet and you think he’s betraying you, but later he shows up at your shop, awkward and stiff, with that same bouquet to ask you out because his mom said that’s the proper way to do it. just wanted to share that little add-on with you!!

— baji keisuke // flower shop // love at first sight

☆ ˎˊ˗ heyyy ... arba idk if ur still active IM SRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG i disappeared D: we miss u come back ... also this idea was sooo cuteeee arghjhghjghjhg i actually went soo overboard w this but it was too good!!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader implied

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you’d had your eye on him since he’d walked into the store. 

it wasn’t for any particular reason aside from the fact that he seemed to be feeling wholly out of place, which made you giggle a bit as he shuffled around, muttering and grumbling to himself as he awkwardly looked at different bouquet arrangements. 

he definitely didn’t seem like the type to be buying flowers either; his long dark hair and overall brusque demeanor didn’t exactly give you the impression that he was someone who would go around buying flowers, (and was that him that pulled up on a literal motorcycle?! he seemed like he was around your age!!). 

under normal circumstances you would have gone up to assist, but you decided to sit back and see how this boy was going to play this one out, (he was really cute, but if a cute boy like him was in a flower shop, he was undoubtedly buying flowers for his girlfriend). it was quite the entertaining spectacle to see him walking around, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to find something that he found suitable. at one point, he even seemed to phone someone for help, though he hung up rather quickly after yelling that he definitely was not buying flowers!!

after minutes and minutes of walking around, he finally picked up two bouquets of flowers; geraniums and tansies. you had to restrain your laughter as he walked up to the register, damn near shaking to keep yourself from bursting out into giggles. 

“d-did you find everything, pff--ahem! did you find everything alright today?” you had let your giggles slip through on accident, and even though you tried to cover it up with a cough, you could tell that it failed immensely from the ticked off look on the boy’s face. 

“you’ve got a lot of nerve to be laughin’ at me-” he started, the deep tone of his voice taking you off guard. 

“n-no! i’m not really laughing at you per se…well, kind of.” you tried to explain. “see, okay, do you know what flower language is?” the boy quirked an eyebrow at this, giving you the sort of look that says go on. “well, it gives flowers different meanings, y’know? so unless you’re trying to pick a fight, i really wouldn’t suggest using these flowers.” 

“...what do they mean?” 

“geraniums and tansy flowers together…you would be calling the person stupid and then be declaring war on them.” the boy’s amber eyes widened, his lips pressing together in a thin line as his brows furrowed together once more. “if you’d like, i can suggest flowers with a more…caring meaning for your girlfriend.” the boy’s eyebrows shot up at your words, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong. 

“girlfriend? these’re for my mom.” 

“oh! sorry, i just assumed-ah, never mind. now, let me see…” you stood up from your seat, gathering the flowers in front of you in your arms and coming out from behind the counter. after you put the flowers back, you looked around for a moment, a few ideas floating through your mind. 

“hmm, why are you getting her flowers?” 

“...’cause…” he mumbled a bit, making you lean in a bit. 

“what was that?” 

“‘c-cause! i made her cry…” despite the fact that his voice had raised a little bit, all you could sense from him was embarrassment and shame, especially from the look on his face, (he almost looked like a kicked puppy). the sight made you smile softly; it wasn’t often that you got genuine customers like this, so you were going to make it your mission to help him. 

“alright, give me one moment…” your eyes flicked throughout the store, taking a few moments to weigh different options before making a decision. you ended up grabbing three bouquets; white tulips, daffodils, and some small filler greenery with bits of baby’s breath. 

you walked back behind the counter, setting the bouquets down in front of you. the black-haird boy had followed you aimlessly around the store, eventually ending up back in front of the register. there was a kind of quiet curiosity in his eyes as he watched your practiced movements, (truthfully, you weren’t used to someone watching you do bouquet arrangements with such an intent stare). 

“i’m doing this for you right now because i want to help you, but for future reference, you usually have to call ahead a day or two for this.” a smile played on your lips as you unwrapped the flowers in front of you, glancing up a bit to look at the boy. 

it was only for a moment, but his amber gaze staring right at you caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. you immediately looked back down, busying your hands and trimming the leaves off of the flowers. the rest of your work was done in silence; trimming the end of the flower stems, arranging them in a way that looks pleasing, opening some of the flowers to match the rest. it was relaxing work, so much so that you almost forgot about the boy in front of you. 

almost. 

the whole time you were working you could feel his gaze on you, looking up a few times just to look back down immediately. you felt a little bit anxious throughout the process, hoping that he would deem your work acceptable enough for his mom, (your anxiousness was also from the fact that a very cute boy was watching you, but that was aside from the point). 

you finished the final step, delicately wrapping the flowers in a thick brown paper and securing them in place with the tie of a thick ribbon. 

“there, all set! what do you think?” you asked cheerily, admiring the flowers you had put together. in your mind, you thought it looked pretty good, but it wasn’t your opinion that mattered here. 

“yeah…they look good.” 

“yay! i’m glad you like them!” you handed the bouquet over to him, a rush of happiness flooding through you at his approving words. “i hope you’ll come again!” 

“wait, how much was this?” he started to pat around his pockets for his wallet, but you shook your head. 

“don’t worry about it, it’s on me! just make sure to come back if you need more flowers, though i hope it’ll be for a better reason!” 

“i will…” he stared at you for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes. “hey, if you keep looking at me like that i’m going to take it back, so go apologize to your mom!” you ushered, waving bye to him. 

“thanks.” if you weren’t looking closely, you probably would have missed the small smile on his face before he left. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“isn’t that…” you squinted a bit, walking a few steps closer to get a better view. sure enough, there he was! the same black-haired amber eyed boy who you had helped last week, in another flower shop!! 

“oh my god, that total traitor!!” you huffed. “i told him to come back if he needed more flowers…” you watched as he got handed a bouquet of flowers, shaking your head in disdain. when you saw him head for the exit, you immediately panicked, scrambling away from the scene and jogging the whole way back to your shop. 

despite the fact that you had only seen him once, you still felt a bit of disappointment at the fact that he had gone to another flower shop, even when he’d said he would come back. maybe you scared him off? 

i didn’t even say anything weird though…

your thoughts kept you quite occupied while you were preparing the shop for open, though they were a bit burdensome when you happened to prick yourself on some roses, too distracted to be paying attention to the thorns properly. 

after some of the bouquet orders for the day, you flipped the sign on the door to ‘open’. you were about to go back to sulking behind the counter, but a glimpse of black hair outside caught your eye. 

looking closer, you realized that it was the same boy! he was seated on his motorcycle, chatting his a blonde haired boy who you assumed was his friend. 

maybe he had realized that the flowers from your shop were better!

however, your gaze narrowed when you realized that he was holding the same bouquet you had seen him with earlier, making your mood sour immediately. 

was he coming here to rub it in your face or something?!

while you were busy glaring, you started to notice that his blonde haired friend was gesturing and pointing wildly towards your shop, seeming to be shouting at the black haired boy about something. while you were still a little bit sour, you began to be intrigued by what was going on, contemplating going out there to see what all the commotion was about. 

the thought immediately perished as you made eye contact with the blonde, who could clearly see you staring at them through the windows of your shop. the two of you stared at each for a moment before you darted away from the glass, rushing back to behind the counter as you prayed that he didn’t actually see you, (he definitely did). 

“well, whatever! i helped him out and he went to another flower shop--so what!!” you muttered to yourself, throwing your hands up. “that’s the last time i ever do a nice thing for someone!!” you grumbled, preparing the flowers for the rest of the bouquet orders you had to do. 

it was a practiced routine at this point, so you were able to arrange the flowers properly without putting much thought into it, using it as busywork to take your mind off of things. you weren’t sure why you were so upset about the fact that this boy went to another flower shop, but it certainly wouldn’t help you to let it get in the way of things. 

hearing the bell to the door chime, you chirped out a ‘welcome in!’ as you continued trimming and arranging flowers, being careful this time to mind the thorns so that you didn’t get pricked a second time. 

“uh, hey.” the deep tone of voice immediately made you look up, feeling as if you would have snapped your neck if you looked up any faster. you shook off your nervousness, (and excitement) going back to what you were doing as you tried to look casual. 

“well, you’re back. whatever you want isn’t going to be on me this time because you betrayed me.” you said cooly, a bit of a frown on your lips. 

“betrayed--what? uh, anyways, i just wanted to give you these…” he cleared his throat, holding out a bouquet to you. when you finally looked up and took a good look, you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, (should you be having hope right now…? no, stop it! get a hold of yourself!). “and, uh, i got them with that flower language thing…” 

“what…?” you leaned forward across the counter, inspecting the flowers in the bouquet a bit closer. “calla lilies and white camellia’s…” looking up at the boy’s embarrassed and somewhat flustered expression, you paired it with the meaning of the flowers, and…

ah…

immediately, you felt your heartbeat speed up and felt the apples of your cheeks heating up, leaning back and looking away. you fiddled with your fingers for a moment as you tried to think of something--anything, really--to say. 

“i…uh…how, um, how did you come up with this…?” 

“my mom said it was a good idea…” he shifted a bit, his arm still holding out the bouquet of flowers. “if you don’t want them, i can jus’ take them back-” 

“no!” you grabbed the bouquet from him, smiling a bit too much, (you couldn’t help yourself though). “you’re giving them to me, so they’re mine now, right? you can’t take back a gift! and-and just hold on for a second!” you left without another moment to spare, running into the back and scrambling for a piece of paper. you picked up a nearby pen, quickly jotting down your name and number and then running back out, a big smile across your face. 

“here!” the boy in front of you grabbed the slip of paper, his amber eyes examining it before he smirked a bit, showing off the sharp bits of his canines. 

“(y/n), is that right?” 

“yes! what’s your name?” 

“baji. baji keisuke.” 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus: 

“baji-san! how did it go!?” 

“i need a yakisoba right now, chifuyu…” baji grumbled, sitting on his bike and leaning back. 

“did you get rejected?!” chifuyu asked, a look of grave anticipation on his face.

“no!! she thought i betrayed her flower shop because i went to another flower shop! your idea was shit!” chifuyu’s face went pale at that, his mouth hanging wide open. 

“i didn’t think about that…” 

“yeah, this is the last time i take advice from whatever weird manga shit you got this from.” 

“...”

“...”

“i mean, she said yes, right? a win is a win!” 

“...shaddup.”

(chifuyu proceeded to pay for the yakisoba outings for the next six months.)

geraniums: folly, stupidity | tansy: hostile thoughts, declaring war | white tulips: apology, i'm sorry | daffodils: appreciation, happiness | calla lily: beauty | white camellia: you're adorable

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | ignihyde

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. idia, ortho

content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl

note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE

damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)

idia

is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.

also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥

'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'

to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'

probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.

then starts turning red from feet to head??

he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.

wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.

is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.

ortho

is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.

like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.

listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.

yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.

idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.

ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)

they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.

"brother move closer!"

"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything

in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3

note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)

not pr, who prs anyways cries

[belphieslavenderscentedpillow]

Obey me Boys as students

Thank you for the love on my other posts, every reblog, note and follower is appreciated!

Also feel free to request something!

This is more of a human high school AU, so there is more human talk than devildom.

There is a bit of Nsfw in asmodeus part, but other than that it’s pretty fluffy/maybe crack?

Lucifer

Straight A student, what did you expect?!?

But I’ll tell you, he’s honestly kind of annoying to be in a class with

He’s such a suck up without even ACTUALLY TRYING to be a suck up

When the teacher makes a mistake he 100% corrects them with no shame

But he’s still somehow a teachers pet

People hate him because they wanna be him fr fr

I honestly don’t think he’s naturally academically intelligent like belphegor or interested in subjects like Satan

The only reason why he actually tries is probably because he thinks failing academically is embarrassing

That being said I think he’s a hardworker, always practicing and learning

Definitely pulls all nighters regularly to finish assignments

Favourite subject is probably physics like a granddaddy

Has a very simplistic pencilcase in black with an ink pen

Mammon

Literal class clown

HE is the reason why class is low key fun

Everyone keeps saying he’s annoying but high key miss him when he’s not there

That being said he’s incredibly charismatic

I think he’s got lots of friends in class cause he’s super easy to be around and he’s funny asf

he’s probably one of the kids on the teachers “hate list”

Literally always gets picked on from teachers

Always goes red when they point out his mistakes but he turns it into a joke

I think he’s an average student but is crazy good at like music or something artsy

He’s that one kid who always ALWAYS forgets his stuff

If he’s lucky he might have a chewed up pen somewhere in his bag (maybe)

He’s definitely a pen biter you cannot change my mind

Leviathan

Oh boy

He’s a very shy kid, and honestly most people forget he’s there

Even the teachers which is kind of a good thing honestly

He sits in the back of the class and does his work calmly

Never talks like NEVER

Probably has one good friend in ONE class who he goofs off with but I think that’s honestly it

That being said there’s def some type of popular demon crushing on him

He has potential to be above average academically but I don’t think he cares enough

I think his favourite subject is art because he gets to practice drawing boobs I mean he gets to practice anatomy

Has a bunch of cool stationary from animes

Definitely has some sanrio type of stationary that he NEVER shares

Satan

A student that gives 110%

He would literally be the perfect student because he has this amazing combination of politeness, academic intelligence and actual academic INTEREST

would be if he didn’t absolutely despise all of the teachers

He knows more than the teachers so sitting in class is incredibly boring to him

Thinks the teachers have no teaching ability and knows he could teach this class better than them

He is such a good student for being such a bad student if you get what I mean

Super organized but not at all at the same time

Polite but disses the teachers- really it depends on the day

He loves all subjects but I think he’s a biology or maybe a literature guy wink wink

someone hc him to send answers in the groupchat while cussing them out- that is 100% Satan

He‘s probably super popular I mean, smart, pretty and a romantic- can’t get better than that! (Well lets skip over the anger issues)

Asmodeus

Your residential play boy/fuck boy!

But just add sweetness to the mix; like he makes sure the person knows his intentions before starting anything with him

That cute boy in class that has a bunch of friends and is super popular for an ACTUAL reason

He does literally EVERYTHING but pay attention

He‘s still a teachers pet though

Probably fucked a teacher to get through the year

Has a bunch of stationary and has really pretty notes even if he doesn’t know what anything means

His favourite subject is probably geography or design (art)

Beelzebub

Jock. What more is there to say?

He‘s not your typical jock, cause unlike all the other jocks he’s actually humble

(The sport bring fangol obvi)

That being said he’s crazy popular, because he’s athletic, cute, sweet, friendly and humble

People are all over him all. The. Time.

Yeah sure he might not have a whole bunch of brains and his grades are below average but at least he’s cute right???????

Yeah he’s not much of a academic person, like AT ALL- he only likes PE, maybe a little bit of art (cause it’s easy)

The teachers surprisingly don’t really care all that much about him- just a random student 🤷‍♀️

Belphegor

This little shit

He‘s that kid who is a genius for no reason what so ever

He reads the paragraph once and never again and still gets an A++++

He barely pays attention in class, skips like 60% of the time and still rivals Satan

Lucifer and Satan get pissy about it because he doesn’t even TRY

His fav subject is math because it’s just understanding a few rules and that’s it

His favourite saying is „mathematicians are lazy“, please tell me your teachers told you this too

He is so charming for no reason, and that makes him a little shit

All he has to do is smile and the person just melts

That being said a smile from him takes a lot of effort

He never takes his stuff to school so he just asks another person and they never hesitate to give him stuff

Teachers just don’t care about him since he barely shows up anyway 💀

Diavolo

Literally cannot focus in school

He‘s like a jock mixed with student body- super charismatic, super hot and reallyyyy popular

He‘s that one friend who has like a gazillion friends and says hi to someone every 2 minutes

But when he’s in class he cannot focus to save his life

At home he’s a mashine- finishing task after task but in school he gets distracted over every little thing

He has so many expensive items, shoes, pants, stationary EVEN HIS SOCKS

Nr.1 crush for literally anyone

Favorite subject is any social subject really

He‘s a pretty average student but his teamwork ability make him stand out

Teachers gossip about other students to him 😃

Barbatos

Straight A student, no one knows his methods

Diavolo is his best friend even if they are polar opposites

Very well liked, by students, teachers but he only willingly talks to diavolo and his crush we all know who wink wink

Very well organised, always has his stuff

Even the way he wears his uniform is neat

He‘s so mysterious…… which makes him kind of hot honestly

He probably doesn’t care about the attention though

Simeon

Ugh literally the perfect student

Smart, kind and charismatic

Literally a teachers pet

Probably is in a whole bunch of clubs

I could totally see him in the drama club

Favorite subjects; drama and literature

He probably reads shakespear in his lunch breaks

He never cusses in class- even when the teacher gets on everyone’s nerves

He has so many friends! Seriously it’s hard not to like him

That being said his weakness is computer science

Yeah not really his strong suit

Luke

Poor baby gets teased relentlessly

He is super cute though

is such a sweetheart genuinely

Don’t be mistaken if anyone actually has the guts to bully him, his 11 family members are ought to get them

He works really hard to get good grades and make Micheal and Simeon proud!

He‘s in the baking club and his favourite subject is probably science honestly

Solomon

This little shit (#2)

He‘s such a mixed bag of different student traits

He‘s lazy, but hard working

Social but introverted

Super popular but gets hated on

His favourite subject is science specifically chemistry

If you are in his chemistry class he‘ll pull some chemistry pick up lines to annoy you

He‘s also in the baking club which makes Luke get cold sweats every night

Also a huge shoutout to @kkeromenoo , thank you for the love!! Sadly I can’t respond to the comments 😭 someone pls tell me how it works..

I just also wanted to say sorry for the fact that 1) this post took so long and 2) some of the characters are shorter. Probably will edit this later, but again hope you enjoyed!

Proofread!

All credits go to @belphieslavenderscentedpillow

[fumifooms]

Firefly Wedding is so…

It’s so

It’s them. It’s "It’s just a firefly, they’re meant to die soon. Why should I care about the sick, or the poor?"

It’s "I was purposely trying to scare you and push you away to see how far you were willing to go with your act, how desperate you were to play with my feelings as if I was a fool, but it didn’t work."

It’s "I know you’re just using me but now I care. Please keep using me. I need you to need me."

It’s choosing to give her her freedom anyways. Because your love is no longer all about you, no longer selfish. Because this love isn’t just a shallow balm to soothe your complexes anymore.

It’s being betrayed, finally facing the lies and no longer pretending you both don’t know that this is a farce, but desperately wanting to keep it going anyways. It’s "I should hate you now. Why don’t I? Hey, tell me we’ll go through with the plan, tell me you’ll marry me after all. Otherwise, why am I still here? Why don’t I want to leave? You act like you don’t need me but I still need you."

Like that’s so revolutionary for a yandere story. The self-delusion is strong, denial that things have changed despite it being impossible to truly believe, BUT HE STAYS. It’s no longer selfish 😭😭

"I don’t care about you anymore, I won’t help you. Get yourself killed for all I care." <- Jumps to her rescue 3 milliseconds later when she almost falls down a ladder/roof. It happens twice. The ‘lying and trying to emotionally distance yourself from something to protect yourself and not get hurt’ defense mechanism is blatant and it’s failing really bad.

It’s "My sense of duty and goals to have accomplished something useful in my short life are making me do this, but I do want you to stay with me." The yandere stuff here gets turned on its head because what he says is empty where it matters and meaningful where it matters. It’s knowing that if Satoko asks him not to kill anyone he won’t, but knowing that he won’t give up on her no matter what, even if she’s unattainable, even if she’s sickly, even if she pushes him away like just before. It’s so thinly veiled for "I’m determined to see my goal through, but that’s not what I want. If you just so happen to take me away and I don’t try to run away hard enough then we can elope and be free. I want to have an excuse to leave with you. Please give up on marrying me. Please don’t. I want that, but I can’t."

It’s "If I didn’t burn brightly in my short firefly life, then what was the point?"

Except that burning brightly doesn’t have to mean making big achievements, or being useful to your family.

It can be living happily, living for the ones you love, fighting for them. It can be worth to risk it for things that actually matter to you.

It’s giving your heart to someone, figuratively and literally. To lend it to them even if it might get used or battered, for as long as it beats to use your body to protect them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself. A love that burns bright into a bonfire before they both turn to ashes. Unwise but wholehearted.

It’s despite even that, needing grandiose gestures to be able to trust that this is real. It’s needing external cues that prove it to feel safe in their love existing, other people to confirm that he’s not crazy, that this is happening and this is how they both feel. Their love has been fake, both being a warped love and being a lie, only being out of necessity or because the other was the only one willing to offer it to them, offering comfort, safety, support and care. And showing that they care is the most loving of all It’s despite everything falling back into old habits that "Oh if she was miserably worried for me then that means she’s not indifferent to me! That’s good!" And then once again being taken aback by her, by her earnestness and by her will. Because oh, no, this goes deeper than that. She cares. It’s love.

It’s opening your heart up to love, and both being punished and rewarded for it.

But most of all it’s

And it being the most loving thing he’d ever heard

Firefly Wedding is so…

And yet it’s also

The complicated and hurtful nature of love and the joy and light it brings are two sides of the same coin, because that’s what inevitably happens when you care about something. But caring about a firefly isn’t a waste even however short lived it is, or how hard the loss will inevitably hit you. Isn’t their light just such a wonder to witness?

[darkworkcourier]

You’re doing Ghost!! Can I request an exercise in sharing body heat in cold conditions that turns into *other* forms of exercise? Preferably a non-military female reader if that tickles your fancy. So excited to see you back on tumblr, I loved your RDR2 and FC5 work back in the day 💕💕💕

Hi yes I’d like to apologize that this tiny prompt turned into EIGHT THOUSAND WORDS OF PORN OH GOD

(Also, try and find all the Far Cry 5 references. :3c As a thank you for hanging out with me all this time!)

Reader works for the National Park Service and gets pulled into a mission involving guiding Ghost to go after a (wink) paramilitary organization in (WINK WINK) Montana. Things go awry.

---

“Piss poor excuse for a shortcut, Ranger,��� Ghost says to your back.

Your mid-back, actually, since you’re about two feet above him on the hillside which is way steeper than you remember. You could have sworn there was a trail cut through here, or maybe that was a half mile down the ridge, or maybe— Maybe it’s good to not second guess it when you think Ghost’s about a full thirty seconds from ditching you and going off on his own.

“You wanna get shot at?” you ask over your shoulder, voice slightly muffled in your scarf. “Because if you took the main road, that’s what you’d get.”

“I would do just fine,” he replies dryly.

Right, he’s got a tactical vest on. You have a down jacket that would just make for a really interesting display of flying feathers if you got shot. The best defense you have is the handgun he gave you for protection, and a Park Service badge that would elevate the threat of killing a federal employee. Not that Ghost’s targets would care, but it makes you feel better.

The two of you trudge through waist-deep snow, thick even on the incline. You’re practiced enough with winter weather hiking to approach it fairly spryly, but you’re also not lugging an incredible about of gear like he is.

“It’s not that far, anyway,” you tell him, just to make conversation. “It’s this ridge, then the Beaver Dam River, and then the lookout tower.”

“Real walk in the park,” he replies.

“Literally,” you say brightly.

His grunt isn’t very amused.

The biggest problem is the cold. It’s northern Montana in the depths of winter, and every shrieking sickle of wind that cuts through the mountains physically hurts. You’re prepared enough for the temperature drop, but you worry more about what happens after dark, when it goes from tolerable to goddamn polar. If it wasn’t vital for you to be out here, you would have stayed in.

For lack of anything better to do as you finish ascending the ridge, you think on the whole situation. A paramilitary extremist group hiding out in the mountains, some multinational task force you’d never heard of swooping into the park, and you getting swept up into it all and taken on as a guide. It sounds like something straight out of an action movie, but here you are and there Ghost is.

Hell, even his name and whole look makes the reality of all this seem that much out of pocket. He’s dressed in winter tactical gear, white and gray mottled camo, hood pulled down low over the skull-plated balaclava that you’re fairly sure he never takes off. He blends in with his surroundings, but at the same time, he really sticks out.

You get to the top of the ridge, pausing for a moment to take in your surroundings. Sure enough, by your reckoning, you’re about a quarter mile off from the actual trail. It’s easy to remedy, leading Ghost down the relatively level ridge to where the trail appears as a shallow divot in the snow.

Of course, he points it out.

“Got lost, did we?”

You roll your eyes. “Not lost,” you correct. “Just slightly askew on the directions. Everything looks the same in the snow.”

“Thought you knew this place like the back of your hand.”

“I do,” you say, stepping down onto the trail and grimacing when the snow goes up to your hips. Ghost is so damn huge that it probably barely goes over his knees, but you don’t turn around to look. “And I wasn’t too far off!”

“Slightly off is still off,” he retorts.

You really wish they would have sent the nice, happy Scottish guy with you instead.

Once you clear the ridge’s treeline, you see the lookout tower poking above the trees straight ahead of you. Grinning, you point it out to Ghost.

“Affirmative, Ranger. I see it.”

“You can just say ‘yes’.”

You can hear him sigh, and then, “Yes,” said like he’s punching the word out of the air.

The trail crosses over the river, cutting through at its shallowest section for this part of the park. The only problem is that the Beaver Dam River doesn’t freeze, so there’s a very real risk of soaking through your boots and defeating the purpose of having moisture-wicking socks. With any luck, you’ll have some downed trees or rocks to cross over, and the river won’t be too high.

That’s with any luck; the opposite being the luck you currently have, as the river’s clearer than you’ve ever seen it once you reach it. You hiss out a curse under your breath, glancing up and down the banks to see if there’s any easier way to cross.

Nada.

“Shit,” you mutter.

“What’s shit?”

“River’s clear, but it’s... well, it’s fuckin’ cold is what it is,” you say, watching the glacially-fed water happily rush by you.

He shrugs. “Looks shallow enough.”

“It is, except—” You look down at your boots, cringing at the thought of all the fun ways water can get in them.

Beside you, Ghost looks down at them as well. “They’re not waterproof?”

“They are, but probably not for walking through a river.”

“Jesus,” he murmurs, then steps right into the water. You see it course around his ankles, protected by his thick boots that probably cost more than a month of rent back home. Once he’s on the other side, he turns back to you, dark eyes peering out through his mask, making him look like a bizarre death motif hanging out on the banks of a very chilly River Styx.

“Damn it,” you hiss. You’ll have to be quick, not settling long enough for the water to leach into your boots and socks.

It’s probably comical to Ghost to watch you hopping across the river, up until your boot hits something—loose gravel, a slimy rock, or just a pocket of underwater bad luck. Whatever it is, it sends you right on your ass and into the water. The only good thing is that it’s not deep, but that does shit to negate the cold shock that knocks the wind right out of you. Cold pierces right through your clothes, hitting your skin like dozens of tiny knives. You gasp first, then yelp, and finally scramble out of the water and right into Ghost’s arms.

To be fair, in the shock, you didn’t see his sudden movement toward you, so you yelp again—right into his ear—when he scoops you up. His head jerks back, but he holds you steady regardless.

“Jesus fuck!” you gasp, already shivering hard. Parts of you are too numb to register on your brain’s running docket of limbs and appendages, but others hurt like shit.

“You okay?” Ghost asks, sounding a little breathless. His hands are on your shoulders, holding you in place.

Great question; you don’t have a good answer. You nod, but you’re pretty sure the uncontrollable shivering is telling another story.

“Let’s get you to that tower,” he says. His voice takes on the command form you only heard back when you sat in on the task force’s meeting. It’s solid, and strangely comforting to hear him take charge. “Sooner we’re inside, the better.”

“C-couldn’t agree m-m-more,” you manage, crossing your arms and digging your hands into your armpits.

Ghost takes the lead up the trail, which is good because your legs feel pretty damn numb. You don’t think it’s frostbite yet, but you know that’s a very real risk, especially as the clouds overhead start to darken with the oncoming evening. Because of the tower’s high perch, the trail snakes back and forth up the hill—a half hour’s walk in good weather and a steady pace, but longer in your state.

Ghost’s surprisingly patient, purposefully slowing his pace so you can keep up. He looks over his shoulder again and again, like he’s making sure you’re still there and not face-down in a snowbank. On your end, you keep your eyes fixed on his backpack, determined to keep it in your sight.

Halfway up the hill, Ghost decides to change tactics. He stops, shouldering off his backpack, then handing it to you. “Put it on,” he says. “Then get on my back.”

“What?”

“Just do as I say,” he says, brooking no argument in his tone. “It’ll be faster.”

You put on the backpack, not surprised that it weighs a metric ton. At the same time, your vision swims a little, dark shapes appearing in your vision before fizzling out like little firecrackers.

Oh, we’re in trouble, you think.

Ghost makes sure the backpack’s secure before turning around and going down on a knee to give you space to climb up. Non-hypothermic you would find this a great opportunity to make a down-on-one-knee joke, but you’re way too fucking cold to do much more than shiver and hang on to him for dear life. His hands go to the back of your thighs, supporting you while you cling to his neck, pressing your face into the back of his coat.

“You good?”

You nod.

“Need a verbal confirmation, Ranger,” he says, not without a hint of humor.

You manage a stifled, shuddering laugh and say, “Yep.”

“Good enough.”

He carries you up the hill, the incline steep enough to make the backpack feel heavier somehow. You don’t know how he’s managing it as well as he is, except for whatever freakish training they probably do in England. In your swimming, dizzy mind, you imagine Ghost hoisting crates of tea over his head, and that sends you into a giggling fit.

“What’s so funny back there?” he asks. However, you can’t miss the sliver of concern in his voice.

“H-how d’you train in Eng-g-gland?” you ask, the middle syllable briefly caught in the back of your throat.

“How do I what?”

“B-back where-e-ever you come f-from-m-m,” you say, shivering harder even though you can feel his body heat close to your core. “W-what do th-they make you d-d-do?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and all you hear are his boots crunching in the snow and the wind snapping through the trees around you.

“Vigorous biscuit lifts,” he says.

You snort against his coat, and then cling tighter, feeling your limbs prickle in the cold.

You’re silent the rest of the way up the hill, shivering and sniffling as Ghost carries you. Finally, you reach the top, and you glance up to see the lookout tower’s staircase which until now has never looked so fucking tall.

“Sh-shit,” you say.

“Just hang on,” Ghost says. “You’ll be fine.”

“N-n-no, I th-thought I’d l-l-let go,” you joke, but your arms do feel like they’re going to fall off, and you’re starting to lose feeling in your fingertips.

He grunts and adjusts his hold on your thighs, then starts the ascent up the stairs. You really do have to wonder about his physical training regimen, because you’re pretty sure you’d be dead before you reached the top in your state. He’s only panting, breaths coming out in thin clouds in front of his balaclava.

“S’it locked?” he asks.

“No.”

“Good,” he says, letting you down onto your numb feet so he can open the door. He goes in first, hand close to his thigh holster, quickly scoping the single room before letting you in. "Clear.”

Your steps waver a little as you walk in, then quickly fall onto the bed without much ceremony. You’re a shivering mess, every part of you that you can still feel trembling with the cold. It’s not much warmer in the tower, but at least the wind’s blocked out. Ghost walks over and helps you shoulder off the pack, then leaves your line of site, his presence indicated by heavy footsteps, the sound of the backpack’s zipper being opened, and then soft clanking and thumping.

Your consciousness wavers on a very dangerous precipice, and you know you really need to get out of your wet clothes. You’re not at the paradoxical undressing stage of hypothermia, which is a good sign. But that also means you have no strong desire to strip, either.

Somewhere in your half-doze, you hear Ghost working on the potbelly stove, opening it on its whiny hinges, loading its gullet with wood left over from the last restock, then striking a match. It doesn’t take long to hear the throaty crackle of burning wood, and that’s a comfort in of itself.

Ghost is back at your side, gently shaking your shoulder. “Hey, Ranger,” he says. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“Mmn,” is your best response, and not a particularly eloquent one.

“C’mon,” he presses, then manhandles you up into a sitting position. Your muscles give a pretty passionate protest, and you blink wearily up at him as he helps you take off your gloves, then unzips your jacket. His eyes flicker up to yours, assessing you. “You still with me?”

You nod, lifting your stiff arms for him to help you out of your sleeves.

“You know the signs of hypothermia, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut as a fresh rush of pins and needles goes down your right arm.

“Alright, let me know if any of ‘em get worse.” He drops your coat in front of the stove, then gestures to your half-soaked sweater. “Can you get that off by yourself?”

You nod again, then start the suddenly grueling work of getting out of it. It’s heavy wool, designed specifically to be as thick and warm as possible. That also means that it’s a bitch to get out of when your arms feel like cooked pasta. Still, Ghost’s already doing a lot for you, so the least you can do is prove that you’re better at a toddler than taking your clothes off.

Oh. Yeah, there’s that. You’re taking your clothes off in front of Ghost. That’s a whole thing to parse through.

But you manage to get out of the sweater, and that’s a victory. You drop it next to the bed, then start undoing the laces on your boots, fingers fumbling the whole time.

“Need help?” Ghost asks.

You look up at him, and then feel a very welcome heat rush to your face.

He’s ditched his coat on a chair next to the stove, tactical vest laid aside on the lookout’s desk. He’s down to a skin-tight black long-sleeved shirt that does wonders in showing off his musculature, and his hand are— Holy shit, he’s undoing his belt.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you ask. Bonus points for you that you’re not shivering as hard. Lack of bonus points that you’re openly ogling the lieutenant like he’s a prime beef steak (and he is).

He gestures back to you, one boot off, the other half-undone. “Getting undressed,” he says very plainly. “Fastest way to warm you up. You know that.”

You do, is the problem. It’s in every survival manual you’ve read and every class you’ve taken for your job. At the same time, it’s in at least four romance novels you’ve perused. And you’ve spent nearly four full months without coming into contact with any human being for more than an hour at a time; getting naked with a gigantic, musclebound man nearly sends your addled brain into a tailspin.

You quickly undo the other boot, trying to will your hands to stop shaking.

This isn’t the time to get shy, especially as your limbs ache in new and profound ways and you feel like you’re never going to be warm again.

The boot comes off, then you peel your wet socks off and drop them on the floor with a very telling plap sound. Your feet prickle and ache as the chilled air hits them and your shivering renews in spades. The faster you get undressed and under any kind of cover, the better it is for both of you.

Snow pants go next, then your work pants, until you’re down to a t-shirt and long underwear.

And Ghost is—

Fuck.

If there was any blood left in your suffering arms and legs, it must redirect right up to your face, making your head swim in a whole new body of water. Ghost’s stripped down to his boxers and (of course) his balaclava. His back’s to you, but that means it’s on full display as he puts all of his clothing in a semi-neat pile. When he turns back to you, you see his eyes widen a little as he lifts his brows.

“Still wearing too much, Ranger,” he states.

You know that, but there’s a pretty firm disconnect somewhere in your synapses, body firmly resisting any higher command to do literally anything useful.

He seems to register that issue, because he’s at your side in an instant, tugging on the hem of your t-shirt to help you out of it. You squawk in surprise, almost falling back onto the bed. 

If you could read masked expressions a bit better, you might think he’s amused.

“I— I can d-do it m-m-myself,” you stutter out. Fighting down any urge to be bashful in a survival situation, you get out of your t-shirt, then maneuver yourself enough to take off your long johns. At the end, you’re down to just a sports bra and panties. Pointedly, you don’t look up to see Ghost’s reaction.

“Take this side of the bed,” he says, gesturing to the edge you’re sitting on. “It’s closer to the stove.”

You do so, feeling him get on the bed and go over to the far side closest to the window. He pulls up the blanket and quilt, then slips underneath them before holding them up for you.

With your back to him, you lay on your side and shimmy under the cold blankets. Behind you, Ghost grunts in what sounds like irritation.

“Turn around,” he says. 

You swallow hard, worrying that he’d say that. Reluctantly, you roll over to face him. Or, rather, face his chest, which is alarmingly close. And it’s a good chest, all muscle-y and firm, with a fine dusting of light blond hairs on his pectorals. When you look up, he’s still wearing that balaclava. You squint at him.

“H-how come y-y-you’re still wearing th-that?”

“Doesn’t come off, Ranger,” he states, although the corners of his eyes crinkle like he’s smiling.

“Ever?”

“Affirmative.”

You groan and lean your head forward until it touches one of his collarbones. “Just s-say yes-s,” you complain.

He actually laughs this time, a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest, before you feel his arm wrap around you, pulling him close to him. It’s startling, and damn embarrassing, but you definitely can’t argue with the results. Almost immediately, his body heat seeps into your skin, first warming your hands pressed in between your chests. One of his feet brushes over one of yours, causing you to jump, and then settle with your eyes squeezed shut in mortification.

But that mortification gives way to blissful comfort as everything warms up. The stove radiates heat as the wood crackles and shifts, and Ghost is a stove in himself. The little space beneath the blankets is a pocket of glorious heat, and you start to feel the ache in your limbs recede and your head clear of its chilly fog.

You don’t know how long it is before he speaks again, but his voice comes in close to your ear. “You doing alright, Ranger?”

You’re relaxed enough that you nod and smile with your eyes closed. “Yeah,” you say.

“You ever do this in survival training?”

You scrunch up your nose a little. “I read about it. We never actually practiced stripping down and cuddling.”

He snorts. “It’s not cuddling.”

You crack open an eye, looking up into his greasepaint-ringed gaze. Feeling emboldened by the fact you can feel your arms and legs and nothing hurts, you gently shove his chest. “What do you call this, lieutenant?”

“Hypothermia prevention.”

You roll your eyes. “Just say it’s cuddling. It’s easier. Less syllables.”

He doesn’t say a word.

Before long, the crackling of the fire and Ghost’s steady breathing lull you into a doze. You go in and out of sleep, deeper and deeper as the sky darkens outside and causes the fire to make strange shadows around the room. You wake once to find your arm around Ghost’s waist, your chest pressed against his, the crown of your head under his chin. You’re sleepy enough that this doesn’t strike you as odd or something you should remedy. It’s way too easy to fall asleep after that.

You wake again to Ghost moving against you, getting out from under the blankets and crawling across the bed until he steps down on the floor. You groan and roll over to watch him as he crouches in front of the stove, opening the door to add more wood to the fire.

He stands back up and looks down at you, shadows making his face look like an eyeless skull. You admire his body cast in the warm light, more than happy to openly stare at him when he walks back to the bed.

“You feelin’ alright, Ranger?” he asks.

“Mm. I’d be better if you got back in bed,” you say, heart outrunning your mind by leagues.

He lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “Things that sound better outside of a survival situation,” he says.

As he crawls over you and back under the covers, you do manage to parse that sentence out through the thick haze of sleep. You turn back to face him, looking up into the dark sockets of his mask.

“What does?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“What sounds better?”

He’s silent for a thoughtful moment before he breathes out through his nose. “Nothin’. Forget it.”

Nope. You’re not forgetting it, especially as you wake up a little more and take in the sight of him laying next to you.

Briefly, you think back to the meeting back at the ranger station, when Captain Price outlined the mission to gather intel on the extremist group. You stood across the table from Ghost, watching him as he stared down at the topography map, then at the dossier in front of him. But then he looked up at you, eyes striking in his mask. After that, you felt his eyes on you all afternoon, and again in the morning when you set to head out.

At the time, you thought he was just observant. He needed to know he could trust you to lead him through the wilderness, assessing you in depth and measuring you up against the other rangers at the station.

But now? Well, now you’re not so sure. You could test it, though. Now that you have all your faculties pretty well in check, you’re tempted to see how he would react to you.

Besides, it’s dark and the two of you are isolated in the Montana wilderness. The only bad thing that could come of this is a very awkward morning.

So, in line with Ghost’s whole vibe—go big or go home.

You pull yourself into a sitting position, tucking your fingers up and under the elastic hem of your sports bra. The second you pull your bra up, you hear Ghost’s breath hitch. He doesn’t make a sound as you take your bra off, sighing in relief and dropping it off the side of the bed.

Behind you, Ghost’s voice is a dry, hot rasp. “Feel better?”

Nervousness flutters around in your chest as you shimmy back under the covers, bare chest now just a suggestion in the fabric. You force a smile. “I hate wearing a bra to bed, and you’re not wearing anything.”

“Thought you’d be warmed up enough by now.”

Taking in a breath to steady your nerves, you don’t answer but raise one of your hands to brush over his chest. He doesn’t move back, or seize your wrist. Instead, he holds still, letting your fingers explore the textures of his skin—scarring and all. One particularly rough scar catches your attention, and you run your fingers around its circumference.

“What’s this one?”

You don’t look up, but you feel Ghost’s eyes burning on you. “Bullet wound from an insurgent. 2017. Laid up in hospital for three weeks.”

Your hand goes lower, finding a raised scar as long as a pencil above his navel. “And this one?”

His breathing is steady, but you’re more aware of it now, of the rise and fall of his chest, your shadow cast across his skin. “Hunting knife to the gut from a drug trafficker in London.”

“When?”

“2012.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Two and a half weeks. Most of it was from surgery.”

You nod, getting bold enough to scoot closer until your breasts press against his chest. His breath hitches, which feels like some kind of success. Something you should report back to Captain Price.

Then, one of his hands brushes over your side, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, down to your hip. Goosebumps rise on your arms and a shiver runs up your spine, thrilling you. His hand goes back up, then follows a line downward over your stomach to a set of small scars on your right side.

“Appendectomy?” he guesses.

You smile. “2019,” you respond. “In the hospital for two whole days.”

“How did you ever survive?”

“Ibuprofen and HBO,” you reply.

You see his mask move with a smile, and then his hand goes up to your chest, following the divot of your sternum. Below his hand, your heart beats deceptively quick, threatening to upend your calmness. Ghost notices, of course, moving his hand to rest over your left breast, your heart threatening to break right out of there like an escaped prisoner.

His voice is like liquid heat in your ears when he says, “Do you want this?”

You could ask him to clarify—play dumb, like you have no idea what you’re insinuating. But the darkness is so all-encompassing, so protective. The world outside doesn’t know about the world in this room, in this bed. You feel safe here, and there’s an opportunity literally laying in front of you.

You smile, and say, “Affirmative.”

He doesn’t jump into action. Instead, his left hand moves down, massive palm covering your breast, pressing gently as he leans his head down close to yours, hard shell of his mask pressing against your forehead.

You look up at him, reaching to tug at the bottom of his balaclava. “Can you take this off?” you ask. “Or at least pull it up over your mouth?”

Another thoughtful silence, and then he does something a little more unexpected. He pulls you close to him, chest to chest, and bodily rolls you over until you’re on the far side of the bed and his back’s to the stove. This way, you can’t see his face, his mask disappearing in his silhouette. You see him reach up and pull the balaclava off, some of his short hair clinging to the fabric before falling away. He sets it down behind him, probably within arm’s reach.

“That better?” he asks, his voice clearer now, hotter, like he’s removed a physical and emotional barrier.

You grin. “Is there anything stronger than ‘affirmative’?” you ask.

“Hard copy,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, then, hard copy, sir.”

And you lean in, pressing your lips to his. In the dark, you miss a little, kissing somewhere closer to his chin; Ghost corrects the approach and kisses you in full. His kiss is like him—strong, solid, an undercurrent of ferocity as he catches your bottom lip with his teeth. Your left hand goes to the side of his face, reeling yourself into him and deepening the kiss. In a word, it’s exhilarating. Maybe it’s in part because of what you’ve gone through today, but you go at him like you crave him, and he returns the favor.

His right hand cups the back of your neck, a gentle but firm pressure. His other hand moves down to your chest, thumb brushing over right nipple, drawing a gasp out of you against his lips. You feel him smile against you, then tweak the nipple again. A small, hot shock of pleasure follows a current down your spine, relaying right into your core and sparking a small fire.

If that’s how he’s going to do it, you’ll do the same.

Pressing your hand to his chest, you bring up one of your knees in between his legs, pressing gently against his crotch and making him bite back a curse. You’re quick to kiss him harder, shutting him up before he can say anything about it. In retaliation, he drops the hand on your neck to palm your other breast, massaging both simultaneously as you moan into his mouth.

Where you were freezing before, it now feels like the room can’t get any hotter. That spark lit by Ghost’s first few touches fans into a fully-fledged flame, threatening to burn right through you. You begin rocking your knee in between his legs—alternating pressure, then no pressure—until his hips begin to move against you, his cock growing hard against your thigh.

You tilt your head back and grin. “Well, isn’t someone an eager beaver?” you tease.

He groans and presses his forehead against yours. “Your pillow talk needs work,” he replies.

Your response to his complaint is to reach down and stroke your fingers over his tented erection, earning a surprised grunt and a hissed, “Shit.”

“What’s shit?” you ask, echoing his words by the river.

His voice is all irritation and arousal in equal parts, “The fact we still have clothes on, that’s what’s shit.”

“Oh. Easy fix.”

Again bypassing ceremony, you curl in on yourself enough to pull your panties off, wiggling out of them before tossing them somewhere in the direction of the stove and hoping they don’t get burnt. Then you hook a leg over his still-clothed hip, grinding against his thigh.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, then forming a half-tight fist so you’re forced to look up at his silhouette. “Now who’s eager?”

“I think it’s a firm tie,” you say, feeling another thrill of victory as Ghost reaches down to shove your leg off and pull down his boxers. Once they’re gone, all the proverbial bets are off. Aside from the shadow he’s wearing like a second mask, he’s completely exposed to you, bare and vulnerable to every touch. It’s like a drug to you, intoxicating and really fucking addicting.

Apparently, Ghost thinks about the same of you. His hand is back on your hip, but trails down to your sex, palming your mons, fingers just brushing over your labia.

You feel him look at you. “Can I?”

No further question from you, especially when your arousal is threatening some serious whiteout conditions in your head. “Yeah. God, yeah.”

One large finger slides against your slit, and you hear yourself, the slick, wet sound audible above anything else in the room. Ghost curses again, drawing his finger back and forth, listening to that sound like he can’t get enough of it.

“Fuck, Ranger. You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

“You kinda have that effect,” you manage to say, before the pad of his finger brushes over your clit and draws out a moan that you bury in his chest.

But his other hand finds your shoulder, pushing you back, before he nudges up under your chin. “No. It’s just us two out here. I wanna hear you,” he says, his voice so hot, smoldering in your ears.

He rubs your clit again, and there’s nothing to hide behind, no muffler to conceal the gasp and moan that follow. Your pleasure is completely on display, and Ghost seems more than happy to draw it out further, admiring it from every angle. He draws circles around your clit, teasing you, adding more fuel to that particular fire—the irony of feeling this way in a tower meant to watch for fires isn’t lost on you.

His finger goes lower, trailing down to your opening, going back and forth several times. The friction is damn near unbearable, and it takes every iota of self control not to grind on his hand. But your hips roll outside your control, and he catches the movement with another low rumble of a laugh.

“There somethin’ you want?” he asks, index finger running a low, lazy circle around your entrance.

You nod, shuddering when he only just dips the tip of his finger in. “Ghost, please.”

“Please what?”

You hear yourself whine, a sound you never thought to hear coming out of your own damn mouth. This man makes you feel ridiculous. And he also probably gets off on hearing you say stuff like this. “Finger me,” you say, exasperated and aroused. “Please, for fuck’s sake.”

“That’s not very pretty,” he teases, and you’re very close to shoving him off the bed. But then he pushes his finger in, and any retort you were set to say or do dies immediately, consumed in the wildfire he’s ignited and fed. He presses his lips to your cheek as you moan, now very unapologetically rolling your hips against his hand as he fingers you, per request. You feel a second finger insinuating against you, and then hear Ghost whisper, “Okay?” against your ear.

“Yes. Oh my God, yes, please.”

“Much prettier,” he says, and the second finger joins the first.

The thought that he’s done this before only just brushes your thoughts as he hooks his fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture, sending hot sparks of pleasure running through your body, using your nervous system like an electrical conduit. You rock against his hand, moaning and gasping as Ghost kisses your neck, scraping his teeth over your tender skin.

“Good girl,” he says, breath hot over your shoulder, before he presses a kiss against your clavicle. How his kisses can feel so chaste while he relentlessly fingerfucks you is beyond your comprehension. The praise just makes it better, making that hot coil inside of you turn tighter, ready to be sprung on a hair trigger.

Ghost picks up on that, too. He suddenly doubles down on the effort, fingers thrusting into you at a much more rapid pace, the wet sound of his hand against your pussy practically deafening. Only his murmurs of praise against your ear register above that.

You’re reduced to a repetitive litany of ‘god’, ‘fuck, ‘please’, and Ghost’s name. All those months without seeing people and having only your hand to keep you company make this oncoming orgasm all the more vibrant and bright, a flare launched high into the air with a huge charge set to explode.

Your hips arch up, and Ghost hooks his fingers again, saying, “Come for me,” in a firm command tone.

And you are not one to ignore a command.

You come hard, crying out and arching off the bed, toes digging into the mattress, hands grasping for literally anything solid, including Ghost. He fucks you through it, coaxing your release out with the finesse of someone defusing an explosive. You come down in fits and starts, catching on little plateaus of pleasure along the way, moaning all the while. Finally, you go practically boneless on the bed, and only then does Ghost relent and pull his fingers away.

You hear him chuckle, a dry and throaty rasp of sound that makes you feel hot all over.

“What’s so funny?” you say, although your words are slurred as endorphins run relay races through your body.

He holds his hand up so that the firelight catches it, and you very plainly see how wet his whole hand is. To show it off, he presses his fingers together, then spreads them out, showing thin strings bridging between them.

“Oh, God,” you squeak, covering your face with your hands and fighting back a round of giggles. “I am so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he says, clearly pleased. He reaches somewhere behind him, presumably to wipe his hand off on the side of the bed.

And sweetheart. This man is going to kill you, and it has nothing to do with his occupation.

You tilt your head up to kiss him again, sighing against his lips and pressing yourself close. His right hand finds the side of your face, residual dampness from your orgasm still very present. Except he treats it like a trophy, dragging it down to your neck so you can feel it.

It’s also impossible to ignore his arousal prodding against your hip. Not that you intended to ignore it.

Before you can think and reason out an appropriate response, your primal brain takes hold. “Can I ride you?” you ask, and only after it’s said do you feel any kind of horror at outright asking. He purposefully arranged the two of you so you couldn’t see his face, like a Montana wilderness version of Eros and Psyche. Now you’re asking for him to lay on his back, exposed to you in every way.

He’s silent, and you’re about to apologize and suggest spooning or something when he says, “Sure.”

You blink, almost certain you misheard. “Say what?”

“You can, yeah.”

“What about the—”

It’s his turn to kiss you quiet, taking the opportunity to pull you close again and roll on his back. You meet the movement with your own, straddling his hips and feeling his erection press against your sex with insistence. You keep kissing Ghost with your eyes closed, finding his hand next to his head with your own and weaving your fingers together. His grip on your hand is firm—a solid, warm reassurance.

You turn your head, keeping your eyes closed. “I can keep my eyes shut if you want,” you tell him, only to feel his other hand come up and run over your back.

“You can look,” he says.

It feels like a point of no return now. Seeing his face, knowing that a person who this morning was still a stranger with a codename is now going to be very real—you’re almost breathless at the thought.

Slowly, you sit up while astride him, and open your eyes.

He’s— Well, handsome doesn’t seem like a well-rounded enough word. You were more on the mark with the Eros and Psyche metaphor. Firelight and shadow play across sharp features, making him look otherworldly. There’s still greasepaint around his eyes, which makes his gaze all the more intense. But the intensity is mitigated by a plush mouth, a distinctive nose, and a firm jaw. His light hair catches the warm ember-gold hue from the fire. All his features put together make for a face that you want burnt into your memory.

“Jesus, Ghost. You hide this on purpose?” you ask.

He smiles, and it’s only hearing him speak that connects the Ghost you know to the man underneath you. “Yes,” he says. “And it’s Simon.”

You must look owlish, eyes wide, blinking, damn sure you misheard again.

Ghost seems pleased by your reaction, reaching up with his free hand to brush hair out of your face. “That’s my name. My actual name.”

“Simon,” you repeat. A human name to a human face. There’s some poetry in there, but you’re too dazzled to work through it.

“Sounds good when you say it.”

You preen a little, then lean down and kiss him, savoring the sensation for everything it’s worth. And you know he read your name on the dossier, heard it from the other rangers—still, you whisper it into his ear like a secret, and he repeats it back to you in his low voice, accent curling around it perfectly.

Yeah, you’re absolutely going to ride this man until sunrise.

You reach down and take his cock into your hand, stroking it a few times and pressing your thumb up under the exposed head. Ghost—Simon moans and tilts his head back, watching you under half-lidded eyes. Carefully, you go up on your knees and align yourself with him, slowly lowering down and adjusting as needed. He’s big, which you expected from everything else about him. But it’s not a painful fit; if anything, it feels damn good.

“Fuck,” he breathes, hand stroking over your hip as he looks to where you’re joined. “You have no idea what you look like right now.”

“Neither do you,” you reply, very much enjoying the angle. He fills you up completely, the strain of him just a pleasurable ache. You moan at the sensation as you experimentally rock on top of him. “Ohhh, I am so glad you got me off first.”

“What can I say? I’m chivalrous,” he replies, although it sounds a little strained as you move your hips again.

“That’s what you call it?”

Another roll, and he looks like he’s seconds from thrusting up into you. But he’s being conscientious, letting you adjust and go at your own pace. His eyes flutter closed, and you almost want to ask him to keep them open so you can enjoy their expressiveness.

“Something, something about being a British gentleman,” he mutters, and you can’t help but laugh. Apparently, that sensation’s pretty good for him; he shudders beneath you and keeps his hand braced on your hip.

Without his mask, you want to put him through the paces of reaction, committing each expression to memory, cataloging them for future use. So you go up on your knees again and come off his cock, then bring yourself back down. You do it a few more times, watching Simon’s expression with enormous interest, the pleasure and arousal doing fabulous things to his face.

He moans your name, and you’re definitely going to use that as fantasy fodder in the future.

Your earlier orgasm gives you plenty of lubrication to work with, and so you start to fuck yourself on him in earnest. In return, you’re rewarded with a low moan and a quiet, “Fuuuuck.”

The friction feels way too goddamn good, setting up another explosive charge inside of you as Simon starts meeting the bounce of your hips with thrusts of his own. Two opposing forces working toward the same goal, and it feels incredible.

You start to rock back on his cock, using his upward thrust as momentum to hit you just right. It’s the perfect angle, apparently for both of you, as Simon’s now breathing heavily, sweat a fine sheen on his skin.

“Yes, Simon, fuck me,” you whisper, beyond turned on at the wet sound of him fucking into you. You can’t tell if it’s hearing his name like that, the command, or both that make him really lean into this, but he’s pushing up hard, groaning and pulling you down so you’re pressed to his chest.

You wonder how long it’s been for him, too—briefly thinking oh god what if he’s got someone back home and I’m a fucking homewrecker before one particular upward thrust makes you cry out, clenching down on him in a way that’s audibly very good for him. You turn your head enough to see your joined hands, and when you squeeze his hand, you don’t feel any rings on his fingers. He does squeeze back, though, and it just feels like another reassurance.

There’s no way to keep track of time, and you really wish this could go on forever. The heat generated between the two of you is scorching, all-encompassing, a forest fire caught on the cusp of the lookout tower and reported to no one but yourselves.

His pace stutters a moment, the first hint that he’s very close. He releases his grip on your hand to grab at your other hip, pushing you up and off of him before you resolutely sit down, taking his cock in full and drawing a sharp gasp out of both of you.

“No,” you pant. “No, I have an IUD. You can— Ah, fuck— You can come inside me, Simon.”

“Oh, bloody fucking Christ,” he breathes, eyes wide and beautiful. “You’re sure?”

In response, you rock back against him, squeezing hard around his cock. “Affirmative,” you say, then lean down and kiss him again. “Very hard copy.”

And that’s enough to tip him right off the edge. He thrusts once, twice, and then he moans against your mouth, one of his hands going up to card through your hair, pressing you so close to him that you can feel his heart beating against your chest. You feel him come inside you, a pulse of heat, a sense of fullness. The room seems to take on new, brighter colors, and when you look at Simon, he looks fucking euphoric. The firelight gives him a look that’s like a touch of divinity, a golden cast over his face and body.

You take your time getting off of him, enjoying the feeling of him inside you too much. That, and there’s no bathroom, no shower—the comedown also means that reality’s a little too close at hand.

Simon catches his breath, hand loosely stroking your hair, and he presses a kiss to your temple before letting his head fall back onto the pillow. “Holy fuck,” he says.

You grin and nod against his shoulder, then slowly pull yourself off his softening cock, causing both of you to groan, albeit far weaker than before. You collapse onto the narrow bed beside him, nuzzling up close to him, hand on his chest, as he pulls the blankets up over you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. Your foreheads touch, and you listen to his breaths even out, his heart rate firm and steady under your hand.

“Probably too late to ask if you have a partner, huh?” you say, smiling as you run your thumb over his skin.

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t, and I also feel stupid for not asking.”

You look up at him, the orange line of firelight tracing his features. “I don’t either. You’re good.”

He smiles, and you set that expression in your memory, drawing it in great detail. “My job kind of gets in the way.”

“Mine, too,” you reply, tracing spirals over his chest with your index finger. “It’s hard to get a date when you live out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Didn’t want to go check out the paramilitary extremists next door?”

You grimace and hide your face against his chest, shaking your head. “Gross. No.”

His chest shakes with laughter, and it’s wonderful.

---

Morning comes too quick, dawning cold and gray, reminding you that there’s a whole weird world outside the confines of the lookout tower. You and Simon get up, both aching very pleasantly, exchanging one too-brief kiss before his radio goes off.

“Ghost, how copy?” Price’s voice comes through in a crackle.

“Fuck,” Simon hisses, getting up and crossing the room to his radio. You at least can enjoy that he does so fully nude. He picks up the radio and keys it, scratching at his stubble as he responds, “At location 29-B and holding, Captain,” he says, his voice a dry scratch of sound. “The ranger had a medical issue.”

“Is she alright? Do you need a med evac?”

“Negative,” he replies. “We’re moving in about an hour.”

“Rog’. Keep me posted.”

“Will do, sir.”

An hour. You groan and fall back on the bed, staring up at the bare wood ceiling, decades worth of cobwebs in the corners. Simon falls back into bed beside you, cupping your face and drawing you into another firm kiss. Then, something dawns on you, and you lean back, looking over his handsome face in the morning light.

“When you say we’re moving in an hour, do you mean moving out, or just moving?”

His brows go up, slightly crooked smile on his face. “I think I didn’t specify, Ranger,” he says. “Do you have a preference?”

You laugh, leaning in close and pressing your forehead against his again. “Affirmative,” you say.

Simon laughs and shakes his head. “You could just say yes.”

[calypsocolada]

PAPER RINGS | takuma

synopsis: takuma meets your parents, it goes better than expected. authors note: hi there. i was watching the proposal and this story came to me :] i really think jjk is for the girlies and gays with the amount of male characters that are literally too sexy. anyways pls enjoy this story!!!!!!!!!!!!!! does anyone else wanna help me track down gege? he's a fucking menace. cw: slightly suggestive, ANGST, shibuya mention, slight spoliers about nanami wc: 4.3k

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You glance over at the driver's seat, Takuma is bouncing his leg up and down, his hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white. He was nervous. You could tell it instantly. He was rigid, Takuma was never rigid, he was always relaxed. Your first few weeks of dating he was nervous around you and you could see those same mannerisms now. You reached over, turning the radio down a bit. It had been playing the same three Christmas songs on every channel. Takuma glanced over at you and gave you an anxious smile. So you reached over and laced your fingers with his free hand. 

“You survived Thanksgiving, Christmas will be fine.” You whispered, pressing your lips to the top of his hand. You nod his head. 

“I don’t think your Dad likes me,” He starts.

“Why would you think that?” You asked, leaning your head against the seat, inspecting Takuma’s side profile. He was distracting, his jawline and soft brown hair, his chestnut eyes that matched the soft tan sweater you got him. He looked good. Really really good. 

“I don’t know, I just feel like he doesn’t like me.”

“My father is very outspoken, Ino, he once told one of my ex’s that he was ‘fucking annoying’ right to his face.”

“Oh god.” Takuma breathes out. 

“My point is that if he didn’t like you, he would’ve said something to you already.” You say, reaching over to run your fingers through the ends of his hair. Takuma leans into your touch as he presses lightly on the break at a red light. 

“And your mom?”

“My mom,” you laugh. “She loves you.” 

Which is true. Your mom had pulled you aside during Thanksgiving to rave about Takuma. How he helped her in the kitchen and didn’t seem bothered the least bit when helping clean up. Takuma glances at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“Really?” He asks as you nod your head. He bites his lip to keep from smiling too largely. You see his shoulders relax slightly and you roll your head back towards the passing trees. The heat blew from the vents to your cheeks, snow falling fresh and white from the dimmed sky. 

There were things you were keeping to yourself. Big changes you weren’t ready for. You wanted everything to go perfectly this weekend but in quiet moments of reflection you wondered who you wanted it to go perfectly for. Because once you said the things on your mind that just might be the end for you and Takuma. 

You and Takuma have been together for about three years now. You met in Shibuya on Halloween night. It was a crazy night that you didn’t like to remember much of. You’d been there for a Halloween party and next thing you know things were blowing up and people were dying. Takuma had appeared like some sort of superhero, he helped escort you to safety. That night you learned about things you never wanted to learn about. Such as the existence of curses, and that cute boy that you’d fall in love with worked to exterminate such curses. Some jobs he did were fine, minimum damage. But most jobs he’s barely make it out alive. Like the one in Shibuya. Takuma didn’t talk about that night at all, only meeting you. Everything else was an extremely sore subject for him. He had talked about a Nanami Kento at one point while somewhat drunk but the most you got out of him was that he looked up to him but then he got quiet. You assumed Nanami wasn’t around anymore, probably because of the curses they fought. 

That was something you could’ve gone your entire life without knowing because it irrevocably changed things. Life was scarier now. But on the other side of the coin you also met Takuma. 

You and your friends had gone to some stupid party, you remember it raining at one point, your freshly curled hair going flat. You stepped out of the party into the brisk cold air, rain hitting your hot skin, cooling you off. You let your head fall back against the brick wall behind you. You don’t even know why you came out tonight, it wasn’t less than an hour until your friends all found some boys to mess around with and leave you all on your own. You pulled the cold beer bottle up to your lips and downed what little you had left in it, tossing the glass bottle in the trash. It cracked loudly in the bin. You needed another drink. Or maybe you needed to call a taxi and get the fuck home already. You let your eyes fall closed, the bunny ears on your head sliding and almost falling off your head. You adjusted them and shivered slightly, the cold air finally getting to you. Then again what did you expect, wearing a flimsy corset and ripped tights, a cotton ball glued sideways on your ass. Something shifted down the alley, a few cans falling over. You turned at the sound. You were wary usually and dressed like this you shouldn’t have left the club alone. A growl erupted from about thirty feet down the alley. This had you turning and walking back towards the bar until something large stepped in your way, knocking you back on your ass. There was no explanation for what you were looking at. It was a monster, about nine feet tall, with grotesque features and a gaping mouth, its purple tongue lolling to the side. The scream that left your lips was part fear and confusion, part hoping someone slipped you some mushrooms or something because what you were looking at right now couldn’t have been real. The monster spoke then, in a garbled tone, something about its mother? Something about shopping? You couldn’t understand it before there was a burst and suddenly you were covered in purple goo. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s dead.” A comforting voice said, you hadn’t noticed you were still screaming. You took a staggering breath, wiping the goo from your face. A hand extended and you took it. The man in front of you steady you, looked you over for any wounds then slung his jacket over your shoulders. “You're okay? I got it before it could touch you?” He asks. You blink a few times, unable to form words through the shock of what you just saw. He reached forward, barely touching your shoulder. “Ma’am, it’s dead. I’m here, nothings going to hurt you.” He says and slowly your eyes raise to meet his. Beautiful brown eyes. There’s a quiet moment, like the world has slowed for a moment. The stranger's eyes looked gentle, his voice the only keeping you from freaking out all over again. “You're not hurt are you?” He asks again and slowly you shake your head. “Thank god for that,” He says and he sounds genuinely relieved. 

“You saved my life.” You say with a sort of unbelievable amazement. “From--from uh- what- what the fuck was that..?”         

You’d asked him his name that night he saved you, he made a show of things and kissed your knuckles as he left. A month or so later he walked into the bookstore you were working in. He had bandages on his eye and the color gone from his face. You almost didn’t recognize him. When he checked out he looked at you, squinting slightly. 

“I recognize you,” he says as you look up.

“I was in Shibuya during Halloween.” You say and recognition dawns on his face.

“You were dressed as a bunny.” He points out as you blush. You certainly were, it was your friend’s idea. You each went as some kind of cute animal. There was a cat, a mouse, a rabbit and your youngest friend dressed as a dog. 

“Not my best costume.” You say, somewhat shielding your face. 

“You looked cute.” You blushed even deeper. “I didn’t get to thank you.” You say as you hand him his receipt. “You saved my life.” 

“You’re welcome. I’d do it anytime.” He says before blushing. You smile down at your shoes. 

“Could I buy you a drink maybe?”

That was the start of everything. You kept seeing Takuma until he finally kissed you, then you saw him all the time. Now three years later you two lived together. Things had been busy and your parents lived in another state which is why he never got to meet them in person until recently. Takuma grew up in a warmer climate and coming down to where you lived, mid-winter was like a Christmas all of his own. The first time you guys flew here for thanksgiving it was snowing. Takuma ran out of the airport and took thousands of pictures. It was cute. He eagerly bought a parka, beanie and earmuffs. He wore them all the entire weekend. This weekend was no different. He was ready now for this climate. He had various cable knit sweaters you helped him pick out, and a barrage of scarfs. You loved how he loved your hometown. He called it Christmas town, and said it reminded him of Hallmark movies. It always made you laugh because it was one of many states that got lots of snow, he just wasn’t used to it.  

You pull up and the front door to your house is already cracked open. The lights are perfectly placed outside, white snow covering the roof and the ground. There’s a shoveled path for you two to follow. You both hop out, Takuma grabs all the bags before you can even think about grabbing your own. 

“Give me a bag, boy wonder.” You tease as Takuma just shakes his head and walks towards the front door. He was very chivalrous all the time, always putting you first. You rolled your eyes lovingly and jogged to catch up with him. 

“Don’t slip on the ice patch there.” Takuma calls out over his shoulder as you step over said spot. Your Mom appears at the front door, the fog on the window blurring her figure. She waves as both you and Takuma wave back. Then she pushes open the door and holds it open for you two. 

“Hi honey! Merry Christmas!” She says as you two meet in a tight hug. 

“Hi mom. Merry Christmas,” you return. Your mom pulls back, tucks your hair behind your ear before turning to Takuma. 

“Hi handsome, love the sweater.” She says, reaching and pulling Takuma into a hug. 

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. Merry Christmas.”

“Come inside you two, out of the cold.” Your mom said as Takuma picked the bags up and you held the door open for him. The heat hit your cold cheeks immediately, the smell of your Mom’s homemade cookies hitting you. You smiled to yourself. You moved away from home several years ago, teenage rebellion, but lately you’ve felt a bit alone. You had your friends, who weren’t really all that great if you were being honest, and you had Takuma of course but all your best friends and family lived here. You missed the cold weather, the snow, the wide open space that city life back there was lacking. You sort of felt like you were being pulled in two separate directions. Homesick and lovesick, you just wished there was a cure. Where everything could be in one place. Then there was the glaring fact of Takuma’s dangerous job. That had you unable to sleep the nights he was out working. Laying on the cold side of the pillow wondered if tonight will be the night he doesn’t make it home. It was really fucking with you lately. Which is why you planned the trip back home on thanksgiving and Christmas, maybe to ease some pain in your heart.  

“Alright, I fixed up your room so if you guys wanna rest for a bit dinner will be ready by six.” Your mom says. 

“Where’s Dad?” You ask. 

“Late, work has been crazy. He’ll be home around six.” She says as you nod your head. 

You lead Takuma upstairs, pushing open the door to your old bedroom. Your mom redecorated it a few years ago, thank god. You’d be humiliated if Takuma saw your old one direction posters. Takuma dropped the bags on the floor and fell onto the bed. You kicked off your shoes and shimmied out of your jacket. Takuma leaned up on his forearms, giving you that look. You cocked your head and bit back a grin. 

“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” You say walking a bit closer. He leans up, reaching for your thighs to pull you closer. 

“Like what?” He asks innocently, large fingers wrapping around you as you bury your fingers into his hair. His eyes glistened in the dim light of your room. 

“You know.” You may as he gives a quick tug and you fall on top of him, legs spread to straddle his legs. His hands travel up and rest just at your hips. “My mom is right downstairs. You’re going to make a terrible impression.” You half laugh as his lips press softly against your open throat. 

“Me? You’re the one who can never keep quiet.” He says muffled against you. You blush deeply remembering the time you met his parents. You two had snuck off and got caught by his cousins. It was humiliating. His lips travel up to your jaw, kissing softly. You shudder, pushing him back onto the bed, caging his body with yours. 

“Maybe I should make a mess out of you then, see how you like it.” You say teasingly, pressing your knee between his legs. He jolts at the contact, a strangled noise escaping his lips. 

“Shit,” he gasps. “No, no, you’re right. It’s not smart.” He said as you laughed, moving off of him. His hands are still on you though, as though he’d really like to take a chance. 

“We should’ve stayed in a hotel.” You sigh, reaching to pull the blankets out from under you. Takuma snorts at that, helping as you two get under the covers. He pulls you against him, wrapping an arm around your back. 

“Are the walls that thin?” He asks as you nod your head against his chest. 

“Trust me they are.” 

“I don’t wanna think about why you know that.” He mumbles in the dark as you giggle. 

Your father was about fifteen minutes late and he came rushing inside, profusely apologizing and kissing your mom on the cheek as he entered. His eyes found you and lit up. You rushed to him as he grabbed you up, spinning you around. You giggled. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Hi pumpkin, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.” You beamed. Takuma was a few steps behind you as he held out a hand to greet your father. Your dad glanced at the hand and shook his head. 

“Bring it in, son, it’s Christmas.” Your Sad said as Takuma breathed out a soft laugh, meeting your Dad in a hug. Your heart soared. None of your other boyfriends ever made it past a second trip to your parent’s house. Not a single one. Your father usually had his mind made up the first time. It seems as though Takuma made a good first impression. 

You sat beside Takuma at the table, he held your hand underneath the entire dinner, even as your hands went clammy. It was cute. The dinner went over better than you could’ve imagined. You had never seen your Dad laugh so much, he was usually somewhat serious. But Takuma was funny, that was one of the many things you found attractive about him. He was charismatic and charming, you never stood a chance staying single around him. After dinner Takuma helped your mom clean up as you and your Dad drank cocoa in the living room. 

“Pumpkin,” Your dad started as you turned to him. “I think this one’s good.” He motions to the kitchen. Your heart swells. 

“He is.” You say, there was a sort of swoon to your tone. 

“A lot better than that last one you brought home that one was fucking-“

“Annoying.” You finished with a laugh as your Dad nodded his head, making a face as he remembered.

“I can tell he cares and as much as I don’t want you married off states away from your family I guess I wouldn’t mind if it was with that boy.” You stared at your Dad, feeling slightly choked up. 

“Won, that’s uh- thanks Dad.” You said, sipping the hot drink, but you couldn't stop the tears from falling. Your Dad noticed. 

“Oh honey, did I upset you?” He asks as you shake your head. 

“No! No of course not its-- I,” You buried your face in your hands. Saying it outloud would make the things you felt finally real. You weren’t ready for that. Your Dad reached for you, pulling you into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hugging you tightly. 

“What is it then?” He asks. You didn’t want to talk about it. Today was a happy day. Your family liked Takuma. You loved Takuma. You weren’t ready for things to change. Things were starting to feel normal. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Takuma’s voice came from the threshold of the kitchen. Your teary eyes slid to his. Fuck. You turned and pressed a kiss to your Dad’s cheek. Getting up you reached for Takuma’s hand, pulling him upstairs to your room. “What’s going on?” He asks as you press the door closed behind you. You blow out a breath, everything hitting you at once. Tears slid down your cheek in a hurried rush, clearly taking advantage of you finally letting them fall. Takuma was across the room in a split second, pulling you against his chest, kissing your forehead and holding you tightly. You sniffled, his scent strong, warmth and cashmere. He ran his hand through the back of your hair and just held you until you calmed down. 

“I don’t want things to change.” You said, your voice sounding pathetically sad. Takuma pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. He reaches and rubs the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“What things, Baby?” He asks, eyes searching. You swallowed. 

“Us.” You say. He looks at you for a long moment, slowly cocking his head before shaking it. 

“Us?” He echoes. You let your eyes fall closed, annoyed at how you’ve thought about this shit for months but couldn’t form the right words right now. 

“I didn’t wanna do this but my Dad-- he said something.” You say.

“What he’d say?” He asks, concerned about his features, looking as though he might take care of your father for you. 

“It’s not like that, he- he meant well.”

“What’d he say, baby?”

“He said he’d be okay if we got married.” You say, letting your eyes drift back up to Takuma’s. He’s gently biting his lower lip.

“Really?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You nod your head.

“And that’s not something you want?”

“Of course it’s something I want,” You say in a rush, not wanting him to think you didn’t want him, not even for a second. You wanted him. Forever if you could. He slowly nods his head, trying to understand. “I’m sorry, I wanted to know what I was going to say before I said it.” You sigh. “I want to marry you, that’s something you want to, right?” Takuma looks at you like that's a stupid question. He nods his head. “Then there are things I have to say.” 

“Okay,” Takuma says softly. You take his hand and walk across the room, sitting down side by side on the bed. You remembered years spent in this room. Dreaming of the moment you fell in love. Writing little stories in your journal until the sun rises in the sky. Reading them to your family at breakfast. You remember the first boy you brought in here, how he made fun of the books on your nightstand. The second boy you brought home got in a screaming match with your dad. The third one apparently was fucking annoying. And now the fourth. Takuma. There wouldn’t be a fifth. This one was the love of your life, you fucking knew it. It was the love your parents had. 

“I can’t stay with you if you continue to be a sorcerer.” You say and the weight of it leaves your shoulders and presses down on your chest. The look on Takuma’s face. There were no words to describe the confusion, the hurt, the whirling of emotions. 

“Oh,” He says. That’s all he says.

“Ino, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do this on Christmas but it is something I’ve been thinking about. Especially lately.” 

“Why did you talk to me about it?”

“Because- because I know how much you love it.” Tears well up again. Fuck you hated crying. You never used to cry but now it came so damn easily. 

“I do. I do love it.” He says and your heart breaks a little. 

“I know you do.” You say and your words sound so damn sad. Takuma’s warm hands find yours, lacing his fingers with yours. You take in a breath and clear your throat. “I’ve thought about it ever since Thanksgiving. How my parents seemed to like you. How you being home with me just felt right. How much I love you. Then my Dad says something about marriage and suddenly it hits me. I don’t want to be married years from now waiting by the door while you're out at a job. Wondering if you're going to make it home. Wondering if one of those fucking monsters got you. You told me yourself how many sorcerers die and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that because, Ino, I don’t want to be without you. I don’t want to know how it feels to lose you.” Tears were coming steadily now. You look and see that Takuma is crying too, he’s nodding his head as though he understands.

“I didn’t- I never thought about it. Jesus…” He sighs, pulling you into the tightest hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair. “I got so caught up in working I never stopped to think about how it would affect you.” He says and you feel that weight lifting from your heart. “I like being a sorcerer, but I love you, of course I’d choose you. I’d choose you anyday, anytime, anyway.” He vows, pulling back, he’s smiling, he’s kissing you. This was all sort of a surprise, you really thought it was selfish to make him choose, thought you’d push him away. “I love you. Fuck sorcery.”

“Ino, are you sure-” He’s kissing the doubt from your lips.

“I’m sure,” he says softly against your lips sending shivers down your spine.

“Marry me then.” You say and Takuma pulls back, a stricken look on his face. You meant it. He’s shaking his head.

“Asshole,” He says and it pulls a surprised laugh from your lips. “I had a whole thing planned.” 

“Can we forget what I said then?” You ask and he laughs heartily, pulling you back to his lips, kissing you softly. “There’s one last thing,” You say.

“You want to move back home.” He says, it’s like he read your mind. “I had a feeling when you pretended not to cry on the way back from thanksgiving.”

“I miss my family.” You say, Takuma smiles.

“I know. I’m fine with that, I like it here.” Takuma says. As far as you know Takuma didn’t get along much with his family which is why he was so eager to impress them. 

“Are you sure? Because we don’t have to move.”

“I want to, baby. Being here feels right.” You can’t help but smile.

“We don’t have to worry about that now.” You say, wiping your face as Takuma leans and presses his lips against your own for a long moment. Then he’s pressing against you as you pull him down on top of you on the bed. His hand grips the back of your thigh, hiking it up as his core presses against yours. You both make some noises as the kisses get messier, more desperate. Your cold hands slip under his sweater, sliding against the cut of his abs. He shivers under your touch. The building tension growing. Something else has grown, pushing against the inside of your thigh as your hands travel around his back, pulling his weight fully on you. His lips kiss a trail to your neck. His other hand sliding down your stomach to the button of your jeans. Fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants, dipping slowly under the waistband.   

There’s a knock on the door that has Takuma’s hand springing out of your pants. 

“Hi, honey, just wanted to check on you guys, is everything alright?” You heard your mom from outside the door. Takuma’s head fell on your chest as he sighed, defeated, you bit your lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

“We’re fine, be down in a minute!” You called out as Takuma groaned against you. 

“I don’t think I can make it this whole weekend.” He whined as you pushed up off the bed, pulling him with you. 

“Don’t you sorcerer's exercise restraint?” You tease as he grabs you by the waist making you yelp slightly, dissolving into laughter.

“You’re really funny,” He says, leaning and pressing his lips against yours. He really can’t keep his hands off you as you two find yourselves falling back into the bed again and again that weekend.

[hardstraykidshours]

skz and their reaction to you in lingerie

pairing: ot8 stray kids x fem/afab!reader

genre: smut, headcanon, 18+ (minors dni)

length: 929

warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, collars, lingerie, degradation, praising, role play, semi public sex, licking/sucking, fem reader, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

chan

what you’re wearing for him: always a matching set, but the color and the style change every time. it could be lacy, see through, or strappy depending on what you’re feeling at that time, but no matter what, it’s always a cute bra and matching pantie. 

without fail, chan is over the moon every time he sees you in lingerie. he cannot figure out how he ended up with someone so fucking gorgeous. the praise goes absolutely through the roof, he will not shut up about how you look like a literal goddess. he’s already a pleasure dom baseline, but it’s exponentially increased when you dress up for him. like you’re going to be cumming a minimum of five times.

minho

what you’re wearing for him: everything is very strappy, like there are straps, buckles, and rings literally everywhere. basically nothing is being covered. it’s also all exclusively black.

with minho, him seeing you wear lingerie goes a few different ways. sometimes he’s the one who actually bought you it to wear, because he wanted to see you dressed like his little slut. if you get something to surprise him, it’s always going to be a good night for you. something about you going out of your way to please him really strokes his ego. you’re going to hear lots of phrases along the lines of “you got all dressed up for me?” and “you wanted to look pretty for me?” and you’re definitely being heavily rewarded.

changbin

what you’re wearing for him: lot of bodysuits, specifically the ones with the buttons, so he can just snap them open and go for it. bonus points if there are garters attached with stockings, because they really accentuate your luscious thighs that he loves so much.

he literally short circuits when he sees you in lingerie. brain off, dick on. because you know how much it turns him on to see you in lingerie, you like to save it for specific situations. like you’ll surprise him with it when you’re super horny and just want to get your lights fucked out. alternatively if you know he’s super stressed but won’t stop thinking about whatever it is, you will put on a nice lacy bodysuit, because you know it will clear his mind of all thoughts.

hyunjin

what you’re wearing for him: you’re always picking something lacy, but very revealing. like all of it is extremely see through lace, leaving absolutely nothing up to the imagination. typically in red, black, or dark green.

obssessed. he loses his fucking mind when he sees you in lingerie. he is going to completely worship every inch of your body to show you how good you look. he will be sucking and biting on any part of you not covered by the lingerie, making sure to leave his marks all over your skin.  anything covered by bits of lace he is going to lick and kiss reverently, completely transfixed by how stunning it is on you. he is also making sure you don’t take it off during sex; it’s staying on when he’s fucking you. 

jisung

what you’re wearing for him: roleplay lingerie - cue slutty maid, slutty police officer, slutty anime character, etc. basically if it can be a character in any scenario but made slutty, you own it.

you don’t really spontaneously surprise him with lingerie, as all of it has to do with a roleplay scenario. it’s always planned ahead depending on what you two decided to do that evening. he's still going absolutely feral when he sees you in it, and you are always getting the best sex.

felix

what you’re wearing for him: it’s all going to be very lacy, but also tasteful. lots of pastel colors and usually in a babydoll style

you decide one day to wear it as a surprise and when he sees you, he gets super flustered. after he recovers from how incredible you look, he literally will not stop talking about how beautiful you are for the rest of the evening. 

seungmin

what you’re wearing for him: everything is going to be a sheer mesh or embroidered, nothing lace. it’s also all very see through, like it’s covering everything while also simultaneously covering absolutely nothing. usually floral and dainty with lots of purples, pinks, and blues. the pattern/fabric is always the same, but the actual style of lingerie varies. 

you love to put on lingerie and then go about your day as a way to get him going. like you will be in a completely sheer bodysuit just cleaning the house or cooking. and anytime you go out anywhere, like to drinks with friends or even just grocery shopping, you will tell him what lingerie you are wearing under your clothes just to taunt him. at least half the time you end up fucking somewhere wayyy too public as a result of your endeavors.

jeongin

what you’re wearing for him: you start out with just basic matching sets. over time, things evolve and you experiment with different styles. however, in the end his favorite ends up just being you naked in a collar.

in the beginning, he asked you to wear it because he wanted to see you in lingerie. after you realize how hot he thinks you look in it you start surprising him with it more often. you progress and try all sorts of different things until one of the times you go to a sex shop together he mentions a collar. after that, you never go back to regular lingerie.

[haesunflower]

random boyfriend things with zb1

genre: fluff

pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone (except yujin)

about/tags: one or two random actions that zb1 does when you're in a relationship with them

thank you anon for req, i think my fluff is improving! bullet point headcanons

⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀

massages.

jiwoong randomly takes your hand sometimes and just rubs it. if you're lying down on his chest, he also likes to run his hand through your hair, massaging your scalp. and when you come home after a long day of work and just plop on the couch, he brings your legs up to put it on his lap, massaging the tension away at your feet

he does this without even asking, and goes about engaging in conversation with you like normal.

"jiwoong, you don't have to do that"

"but I want to, babe."

you return the favor after, and after a while you start to think that maybe he gives you massages because he wants one back

If you're both too exhausted, jiwoong likes to prepare warm baths for the both of you to relax in. while he draws the bath with essential oils, you light the candles.

you melt into his chest, basking in the warm water and the presence of the man you love.

⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀

whispers kisses into your ear.

hao likes to come closer to you to whisper into your ear. you'd think it would be some super important secret but it's usually something along the lines of "you look so beautiful today"

it sends shivers down your spine, and your ears turn red immediately

he seals it with a kiss, peppering kissing along your jaw as well

"hao that tickles!" – he likes it when you giggle at him

he enjoys that in moments like these, even with other people around, it's like the both of you are in your own little world.

⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀

he sends you pictures of everything.

hanbin likes to keep you updated, so on days when he can't see you, he'll take a picture of the sky, the food he ate that day, the literal cat he bumped into on the way home, and cute little selfies as a good night present. he gives you the play by play – what song he was listening to, or the thoughts he had of you.

"saw this flower, and it smells like your hair. miss you!"

you find joy in reading about his day, and you find yourself doing the same thing with him

hanbin also has a nagging nature, making sure you drink your vitamins, eat all your meals, and get enough sleep

he rewards you with head pats :( a soft and cute reward

⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀

absentmindedly drawing circles on your skin.

he doesn’t even realize it (you think) but he draws on your skin with his fingertips. it might be a comfort thing for matthew, so you find it endearing. if you're watching a an anime movie on the couch, his arms are wrapped around your shoulders and he's tracing incoherent things on your arm. or he's gently rubbing his hands all over your legs or thighs back and forth, softly scratching with his nails.

"did you need something, matt?"

– "huh? nothing why?"

you just smile at him and he continues his ministrations like usual

it has become your comfort thing too. :')

⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀

cuddling. but specifically making you lay down on this chest or shoulder as he hums a tune or plays the guitar.

if he's playing guitar, he places your head on his shoulder as he softly strums the instrument. you are mesmerized by how he plays, and you space out to the music

if you're lying down, your head is on his chest and you feel the vibrations of his humming reverberating in your ears. he also likes to plant small, chaste, kisses on your head as you softly lull to sleep.

he sings to you in your sleep, but you don't know that. and it's always in a tiny voice because he's afraid to wake you up.

perhaps all your good dreams are thanks to him ♡

⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀

has an extra of everything for you.

at first, it was just about carrying an extra jacket because you get cold easily, but it has evolved to secretly buying things for you and phrasing it as “oh I had this lying around” (because he knows you don’t like it when he spends too much on mundane things for you). so when you ran out of chapstick or couldn't find your ponytail and he whipped one out of his pocket, you're suspicious but thankful.

even though you both think it's cheesy, you also get very "subtle" couple items

like rings, yeah that's right... you have matching rings

jokingly, you say "what are these, promise rings?"

"yeah." :'D

⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀

hand holding and casually playing with your hands.

gyuvin does this thing where he holds your hands and does random things with it. he'd sandwhich it inbetween his own, or make your hands clap. most of the time, he does it on purpose to entertain himself - but there are moments where he does it out of habit.

even if you're talking to another person, your hand are linked together when he places both your hands into his hoodie pocket. and when he's behind you, he'd wrap his arms around your waist and fiddle with both your hands.

he does this so often that people are so used to it already, deadass no one questions it. like you’re having a serious convo with a friend and he’s just doing that ugh cute.

⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀

standing behind you, protecting you. kinda like a guard dog.

even if there’s no threat, he just likes standing and towering behind you. he likes the physical and visual confirmation that all is well because he can see the whole environment from this angle. his heart skips a beat when you lean on to him, your back to his chest.

when he’s standing behind you, it somehow makes him feel useful and loved tkejfkf. he finds himself gently nudging or guiding you on where to go. or sometimes, he'd just follow wherever you lead like a large puppy.

if you're in a crowded place though, he likes to interlock pinkies with you so you don't lose each other, ya'll are clingy like that

A/N: no yujin since this is a romantic context!

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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[buckybarnesb-tch]

Hey idk if you'd do this but bucky barns x reader who has bad period cramps and how he'd help hcs? Xx

Bucky’s Girl on her Period Headcanons

•Bucky is very considerate when it comes to your period, he never wants you to be in pain

•It took you a while to express your discomfort, especially before you two were sexually active, though he can always tell when you’re not feeling well and he tries to help you

•He was almost like a puppy, he knows you’re not feeling well and he tries to bring you things you like, at first he brought you your favorite meal from the place down the street but he would bring it while you were bloated and nauseous which would annoy you, then he would end up worrying that you’re not eating since he knows you, you love to eat…he quickly learned not to say that though as you immediately took it to mean he thought you were fat

•Your mood swings confuse him to no end and right when he thinks he has an understanding of your mood, you’re crying

•He snuggles you whenever you get weepy and it’s his favorite time oddly enough because when you cry you get snuggly and when you get snuggly you get tired and fall asleep on his chest, making him feel like he’s made you feel better, at least enough to rest

•When you finally express why you’re not feeling well it seemingly registers to him all of the times you were clearly uncomfortable but brushed it off

•He does research on the internet that night for hours, learning everything that’s going on with your body (since men in his time weren’t taught about this subject) but also trying to figure out common ways he could help, if not just to make you feel less moody if he couldn’t relieve your pain

•He took some things he learned online too literally so the first time he goes shopping for you he gets way too much, coming home with 6 boxes of tampons (all the correct brand and size which impressed and surprised you), 2 plastic bags full of 15 different kinds of chocolate, and 8 new stuffed animals

•He expressed to you instantly that it doesn’t bother him that you have your period and he can’t believe that there are men in the world that are so uncomfortable with something so natural that they’ve made his Princess feel like she needs to hide it from him lest he be disgusted by you, Fuck that

•He sets to making you feel comfortable right away, getting you your heating pad and setting a nest up on the couch, turning on your favorite movie and snuggling you close, massaging your lower back

•Bucky downloads a period tracking app on his phone and fills in the dates and symptoms he notices and that you express so that he can tell around the time that it’s going to happen; from that moment on he is always prepared for that time of the month, and if he’s not prepared at least he’s never confused when it happens

•He has a secret stash in his closet of a box full of chocolate, he also keeps several boxes of the tampons you prefer to use since you always seem to forget to buy them on time, though whenever you need it he always surprises you by being willing to go to the store and buy them for you if he’s all out

•Bucky was truly stunned at the fact that men wouldn’t go to the store to get tampons for their women, a women that you’re in love with, a women that’s in love with you, a women that is going through something that men will never have to suffer through and they don’t have enough compassion to go get them the only thing they really need? The Sergeant doesn’t consider himself a ‘good man’ in any sense but Bucky doesn’t understand modern men at all

•One thing Bucky noticed is that you seem to be in quite a bit of pain almost every month, and upon asking you explained you have worse cramps than normal women, often being debilitating for you to the point that you can’t stand up straight; it took some time to convince him that you’ve already been to the doctor and that physically your okay, there’s nothing that can be done to fix it, you just have to suffer, he doesn’t appreciate that answer

•Bucky mutes your phone at this time of the month, telling Tony whenever he calls with a request or Fury when he calls with a mission to fuck themselves, his Princess is in pain and he needs to take care of you

•He gets Banner to get you a script for some stronger pain meds for when you desperately need them, not willing to give them to you all the time but at least to be able to sleep at night or have a nap when the pain is really bad

•There is a hall closet full of blankets and pillows for use when he builds you a nest to sleep in so you don’t have to move, Bucky actually finds that he enjoys caring for you, it makes him feel useful and loved when you look up at him with your big beautiful Y/EC eyes and smile at him

•About 6 months after you start dating, Tony clears out and gives you and ‘Your Cyborg’ your own floor in the tower to stay in and Bucky fixes up a whole room with a large nest of your blankets on top of a king sized mattress that sits on the floor in front of a TV, it has an air conditioner, a bathroom full of products and a basket in the edge of your nest that he always keeps stocked with chocolate and snacks; this is mostly so he doesn’t have to keep setting up the ‘nest’ over and over since you enjoy it at all times of the month, and it’s so big your beefy soldier boyfriend can fit into it with you and all of the stuffies he bought you before and after you told him about your period (the fact that Bucky believed the way to make you feel better when you were ‘sick’ was to buy you stuffed animals touches your heart in a special way, he’s the worlds greatest assassin and still your sweet teddy bear)

•You often find yourself getting a massage, either your lower back or even better your crampy tummy, appreciating the relief his inhumanly strong hand brings to you, the massage is often necessary to help you sleep at night and he rubs your stomach until you drift off to sleep at night

•It took a bit of time for the Soldier to allow your flesh to be touched by his vibranium hand however as he realized he was able to use it to help your hot flashes he tried to relax himself enough to allow you to hold it; Bucky now even enjoys watching you wrap your body around his metal arm which never warms up, the metal staying constantly cool which allows you to get some relief from the hot flashes

•For being a man from the 40s Bucky is very sweet and attentive when it comes to your time of the month, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain so seeing you in what is basically unnecessary pain is something he’s strongly driven to relieve for you

•Bucky is the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, never having expected him to be the kind of man comfortable buying feminine hygiene products at the store for you, you appreciate him more than ever and you are damn sure he will not be getting away from you any time soon

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[oops-all-concrete]

BG3 fandom! I have more headcanons- but first!!

I must issue a very loud

⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️

For The Dark Urge playthrough of Baldurs Gate 3! There is no further warning below the cut, so if you care not to be spoiled, do not continue to read!

For those of you interested- ahead lies: Angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, mentions of death, no MCD or any perma-death anyway, and lots of love. Greif and pain and emotional hurt are heavy themes as well!

Last warning! ⚠️Spoilers ahead⚠️

I've just gotten to this point in the Dark Urge run (where you reject Bhaal and fucking) DIE, and DUDE- I am stunned companions say NOTHING to your LITERAL DEATH after rejecting Bhaals gift or whatever. (Not in the scenes anyway) So, I'm writing how I think they'd respond cinematically, because your lively Durges deserve to be mourned and loved.

(Of course in-game this would be limited to the dialogue, but I've describes how they would be animated anyhow)

Lae'zel -

She's running to Durge the moment they start lifting from the ground, but pauses once their eyes start rolling back and blackening. There's something beyond her control happening, and she needs it to stop- and it does. With Tav hitting the floor eyes black, soul gone. She's immediately yelling at the others to do something, hand her a scroll, something- but nothing is working. Her shoulder slump after a good few minutes. And finally her voice breaks. She holds a hand to her chest as she wails in agony, holding her Tavs body like it's the last time- because to her- it is. "My angel, my moon. My great protector. I have failed you" She hisses, eyes scrunched shut.

Shadowheart -

She's been afraid her whole life. But even in the face of Bhaal, she will not be afraid if it means Tav will be safer. She immediately casts warding bond, if they're in danger, she'll halve it. If you're going to get hurt, so shall she- and she's okay with that. "Hang on-!" And then it all goes black, she falls without a word or scream, but she's content. If she dies protecting Durge, she cannot ask for better.

(After cutscene convo) Once Durge has been revived by Withers, it's up to them to get a scroll and revive her from the bloodied mess on the floor. She's stunned and confused, but the moment she sees Tav okay she couldn't care less. Why did you do that? "It might sound silly, but I was scared that you would be alone through whatever was about to happen. I don't regret it, if you're wondering"

Wyll -

"Gods- NO!" He shouts, a hand reaching out for them as they hit the ground. He's over them in a flash, holding their head in his arms, trying desperately to wake them, find a pulse, wake up himself and have this all be some sick nightmare. But of course, no such thing happens. The Tav he knows and loves just ceased living before his eyes. There's blood soaking into his every apparel and he's crying his eye out. It crosses his mind. Mizora is powerful- even if she can't fix this, she will know someone or something that can. He'd give anything- his whole life, he'd gladly be a lemure if it gave Tav back. He almost calls for her- until Withers starts his speech. (During the 'your rejection of Bhaal has earned you a place among heroes' section of his dialogue, he'll turn to Wyll and add: 'No devil's, demons or feinds required, I assure you')

Karlach -

If she wasn't raging before, she is now. A tomb-rocking scream echoes around the chamber, eyes wide with horror, body shaking and burning all over, engine out of control but she couldn't care less. One of the others will tell her to calm down. "FUCK THAT! FUCK EVERYTHING! FUCK THE GODS ABOVE AND THE HELLS BELOW." She roars. It goes on, swearing, screaming, swinging- and then, finally- collapse. She drops to her knees and punches the hard ground next to Tavs body, sobbing and exhausted. Withers walks in the the most gut-wrenching agonised scream of why

Gale -

He's frozen as it happens. His hands crackle with weave but he can't move. He needs to do something- anything, but time moves without him. All he knows is he can't breathe, all he can smell is blood and he thinks he's going to be sick. He can hear invisible bones cracking, distant blood dripping and their last choke. The wizard stumbles forward, barely making it to their body before collapsing beside them, on his knees and positively glowing from the mark on his chest. The orb can sense his distress and buzzes within him, as though it can smell the death. He pulls and hand to his mouth, kissing it gently- unable to comprehend a kiss goodbye. "Oh- Gods. Oh my love" he sobs, brows furrowed in what looks like physical pain. "I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." He wheezes out, scarcely finding breath.

Astarion -

He doesn't let their head hit the ground. He's swift as he catches them, but frantic as he sets their head on his thighs as a pillow. He pulls open their eyelids only to find a blackened core beneath, animalistic and distinctly unfamiliar. "Wake up, damn you...not after all this! You don't get to go!" He yells sounding genuinely furious- like he was going to get violent. If any of the others approach he doesn't notice. "We still have a cult to cull, we have a brain to control- I need you!" He yells, voice raw and eyes wet, the anger melting into greif. He makes a sheild of himself over Durge when Withers walks in, dagger/shortsword in hand, teeth bared, despite his damp face.

(Withers greets Astarion: 'Cry no more Spawn of sanguine- the universe is finally in your favour')

(Only Halsin is romanced for obvious reasons, but closeness is still implied for Minsc and Jaheira)

Halsin -

He catches Durge on the way down, their head on his chest as he lays them down over himself. "My heart? Can you hear me? Please say something" He begs hands glowing with healing magic, eyes aglow as well. He tries for a little, but then his breathing changes entirely, a small hushed gasp sounds from him, his he starts shaking his head, eyes wide. "Oh- oh Gods- Silvannus, please- I cannot bear to lose- oh Gods" He gasps, breath becoming harsher- finally letting tears fall. "Oak Father- please, wherever they go- keep them safe" he prays, teeth gritted in agony.

Jaheira -

She looks away as Tavs life is sapped away, unable to watch another Bhaalspawn friend suffer. When all falls still and silent, she looks among the other companions, shocked and frozen. "They're at peace now. Take comfort in knowing they chose to keep you all safe." She says with a proud nod- but her eyes are wet and her nose scrunched a little with a sniff.

Minsc -

There's small squeaking in the berserkers ear, before he sighs, almost a sob and speaks with a tired voice. "Wise words, Boo. I only wish our friend could hear you" Before he turns away, unable to look at them on the floor. "I am proud to have called them our friend. We should make them proud in return"

Hope you enjoyed! To the lovely people who have made requests, I will get to them as soon as I can!! Thank you for the requests, and please feel free to send me more!

[ohanny]

so remember how i said i'd been having ideas about a pack orgy? well.

those ideas now under the cut:

(nothing graphic but subject matter by default is somewhat nsfw)

it all starts when jeff realizes his heat is coming and is miserable about it because a) he is jeff and b) it is a miserable experience. so to soothe his instincts thus also his stupid hormones and cramps, he orders alan to build them a big “nest” in the living room (covering the floor with mattresses, and pretty much every single pillow and blanket in the house) and invites over the entire pack so they can put on some studio ghibli movies, huddle close and jeff can feel comforted by the closeness of everyone he holds dear.

except jeff might have miscalculated his cycle and underestimated the effect having his entire pack so close might have on him. so barely two movies it becomes clear his heat is a lot less pre- and a lot more actually happening right now.

everyone is like “so uh, we should probably leave you two to it” but jeff who is pretty gone already, whines like a sad puppy. he needs his pack so why is his pack trying to abandon him? sensing his distress, alan is like “no, stay” and it’s not exactly an order but also kind of is because no one is allowed to make jeff sad. and it's not a big deal. because it’s pack. when your packmate is going through their heat or rut, you help out in whatever capacity you can. that’s just how it is.

so everyone is chill about the whole heat pheromone soup and whatever bodily reactions it might cause. they are fine more or less pretending to watch the movie while alan fucks and knots jeff right there in the middle of the nest. once jeff is stuffed full and calmed down, the fussing starts. as another omega, north would curl up as close to jeff as he could. kim would worry about water and snacks and “alan, you big oaf, don’t squeeze him so tight.” jeff would be high off the feeling of it, happily purring in alan’s arms and everyone would mirror his happiness.

well. not everyone. kenta - who babe invited and kim dragged over to “socialize” - is very much not okay. kenta is freaking out.

kenta’s experiences with pack dynamics have previously been limited to “do what father says to the best of your ability or else.” in tony’s mansion going through your cycles was seen as a huge inconvenience at best and something shameful at worst. pack was a matter of forced proximity versus genuine bonding and if you got close to someone, it would be used against you. he might have tried his best with the children to offer them some kind of security but after pete left all those years ago, no one bothered to do the same for him.

also, much to his horror kenta is hard. and he’s disgusted with himself because he's in a room full of people, it's because of the pack leader’s omega and on top of all that, jeff is someone he considers to be his brother. one of those things would be enough but all three? he is totally spiraling into shame and self-hatred, inching back until he’s about to fall off the mattress, stiff and scared.

in short, he is totally bringing the vibes down, the stench of his panic spiking when he makes accidental eye contact with alan who has been looking at him. alan sighs and kenta is pretty sure this is going to be it, tensing up even more in preparation of what's to come. instead of casting him out, alan utters out a very pointed “kim” shooting a significant look in kenta’s direction and kim looks over his shoulder and goes “oh shit, on it” and means it quite literally.

because he turns around, grabs and physically pulls kenta back in and then crawls on top of him, murmuring “it’s okay, feel that?” and takes kenta’s hand, guiding it between his own legs where he is also achingly hard. “see? me too. you’re good,” he tells kenta and noses around his neck, breathing him in, “you’re really good. just relax and let me take care of you, okay?” and how could kenta say no to that? being caged in like this by kim’s everything is turning his brain to mush. when kim presses down, he arches up and oh, fuck.

for a split second he forgets where he is but then babe - who is totally being the little spoon, all wrapped up in charlie as if he was the one in heat here because of course - stretches out a hand so he can scratch the top of kenta’s head and say he’s being silly, “this is pack.”

and north will take a brief break from jeff to ninja roll to rub his cheek on kenta’s shoulder, scent marking him, and then sonic will snort and just chomp on kenta’s bicep because he totally looks like a biter and kim will playfully growl at him in a “hey, no biting what’s mine” and swat sonic’s head to which sonic will respond by snapping his teeth at kim’s fingers. north would kick sonic’s shin and tell him to “stop biting other people’s people” and sonic would fling himself at north, the two of them getting tangled up and alan’s reflexes being the only thing saving jeff from accidentally getting elbowed in the face.

that will obviously jostle the knot still connecting them and jeff will whine, grinding back in a renewed surge of sheer need and alan lives to please. and let's not pretend gremlin charlie would not take advantage of all the fertile omega pheromones mixing with babe’s own scent to go full “is mama that desperate to be bred?” on babe. and if the whole mess of kenta, kim, north and sonic gets even messier and more tangled up as the night progresses, oh well. kim is horny and kenta clearly needs way more babying than jeff does. pack is pack after all.

[azurevi]

wild roses

pairing: leona x gn!reader, heavy jack & reader (reader = prefect)

summary: ace and deuce’s matchmaking plan for valentine’s day goes wrong, and both you and leona realize that something needs to be changed in your relationship. (fluff, secret relationship, bad matchmaking, possibly ooc leona 😔) 9k (chonky)

note: HAPPY VALENTINE’s DAY!!! ok. first of all, jack is there for like, a majority of the fic because i felt bad just using him as a plot device and decided to write more about his interaction with reader. but it’s still somehow centered around leona and reader. secondly, this is like really messy but i didn’t have time to flesh out everything i already had to cut down on what i originally planned 💀 hope y’all enjoy it anyways ^^

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Ace.” Deuce rubbed his chin, looking between the redhead and the wrinkled paper titled ‘ The Foolproof Matchmaking Plan: 2023 ’. He wasn’t sure if he should be more concerned about the content or the implication that this could become an annual thing.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Ace was pacing and gesticulating. “This will work for sure, because we already know for a fact that there’s something going on between the prefect and Jack. All they need is a little push!”

“Do we though? I mean, we could’ve misinterpreted everything. Not to mention how much trouble we’ll be in if the plan falls through.”

“Sure, both of them are going to whoop our asses if it fails, but if it works, we will appear in their wedding speeches. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. If you really need concrete evidence, turn to the back of the paper.”

Deuce did as told, and found another list scribbled on the page.

Undeniable signs that they are into each other (in case Deuce acts like an idiot and doubts my plan) 

The prefect is always spending time at the Savanaclaw dorm. There must be a reason they choose it over Heartslabyul, where TWO of their best friends reside.

Last time we went over, we literally found a Savanaclaw uniform mixed in the prefect’s laundry. They're already dating in all but name!

Asked the prefect last time what their type was: tall, strong, has a secret soft side. Who else fits all the criteria if not Jack?

They're always talking among themselves when we’re hanging out as a group. 

They always have this stupid lovesick look on their faces whenever they get a notification. I bet my lunch money they're texting each other.

T

“T?” 

“Trein confiscated it before I could finish writing that line.” He scratched his head. “The point is, the signs are right in front of us! Or are you so blind that you can’t see it?”

“I'm not blind-”

Ace sighed. “I know that you don’t have a lot of experiences when it comes to romance, but still-”

“Wrong! I had a whole group of admirers back when I was… ugh. Nevermind, it's not something I'm proud of. I am capable of picking up signs of romantic interest, and my expertise tells me… that you are right. They are interested in each other!”

How gullible. Ace had to stifle his urge to laugh. “I am honored that you deem my opinion valid, oh great romance expert. So are you on board or not?”

Success was pretty much in the bag, but he asked nonetheless, watching as Deuce struggled with his conscience. Finally, with a stern look, he nodded. “I’m in, for the happiness of my friends. When do we carry this out?”

Ace straightened his spine, snatching the paper out of his hands and straightening it. With a sly smirk, he said, “Tomorrow, Valentine’s Day.”

———

The school had this ‘candy delivery’ thing going on for Valentine’s Day, and you happened to have garnered enough secret admirers that the organizers had to pack your sweets into a basket. As soon as you'd gotten it from your locker, you hugged it close to yourself and rushed into the room owned by the Gargoyle Research Society. Malleus was the only one who used it anyway, and he’d long ago given you the permission to enter as you pleased.

Anticipation coursed through your veins as you rummaged through the pile, looking for one specific note. You weren’t sure whether Leona had participated in something like this— chances were he would've considered it ‘an asinine way to help cowards confess their feelings’— but it didn’t stop you from hoping.

After putting aside a few chocolates and their atrocious pick up lines, you finally found the one you’d been looking for. It was a single candy wrapped in a yellow wrapper, and it looked like the kind of stuff teachers gave out to kindergarteners who answered questions in class. 

A note was stapled around it. You unrolled it to find a familiar handwriting. 

Happy Valentine’s Day. Although this event appears to be an asinine way to help pathetic cowards confess their feelings, I reckon that I should still give you something since you mentioned looking forward to it. I will meet you at Ramshackle tonight, 8pm sharp. — Leona 

With a smile curling your lips, you ripped the wrapper and popped the candy into your mouth. The fruity sweetness coated your tongue as you pulled your phone out.

The line rang for a few seconds before it got through. “Hello?” He husked.

“Good morning, is this Mr. Kingscholar?”

“Cut it out.” It sounded like he was shuffling in bed. “I take it that you’ve received the candy thing?”

“Yup. And the invitation. Have you just woken up?”

“Thanks to you, yes.” 

Rapid knocks appeared in the background, and he cussed under his breath.

“Is that Ruggie?” You chuckled.

“Yea. He’s about to break the door. I’ll see you tonight, ‘kay? Don’t forget about it.”

“As if I would. I’ll make sure the coast is clear when you arrive.”

“Yea,” he said with a hint of hesitation, as if he was taken aback by your words. “Okay. Bye.”

Having to sneak around and meet up was nothing new to you. From the very beginning, you’d agreed to keep your relationship under wraps. 

While his brother was usually preoccupied with more crucial matters, Leona was still a royalty, and words spread like wildfire in this school. People were bound to talk if he were to be seen with a romantic partner, and they were probably going to tell their mothers, who would tell the other mothers, on and on until the media caught wind. Then the chamberlains would get involved, eventually alerting his brother.

Knowing Farena, he'd probably make a fuss of you, demanding a dinner and a private audience. On top of that, all kinds of reporters would be knocking on the door, trying to get a candid photo of you two. If that happened, his chances of getting a good sleep would drop to zero. Or worse, they would bring unnecessary burdens to you.

As for you, your reasons were simple: your friends would never leave you alone if they knew of your love life. Ever since they'd noticed the different air around you, they'd been not-so-subtly trying to figure out whether you were seeing someone. They were definitely going to tease the living hell out of you once they figured it out, so you’d rather dodge all the troubles.

Plus, it was pretty nice to have this quiet little thing going on between you, just that it's hard to pretend like you didn’t want to throw yourself at him in the corridor sometimes.

Really, it’s nice.

Despite your intention to maintain discretion, so far two people had already blown your cover. The first was Ruggie, no surprises there. The second was Jack, who walked in on your napping session at the botanical garden. (That one’s on you, you’d totally forgotten to be discreet.) 

Both of them were trustworthy friends, so it didn’t bother you. But if someone like Ace or Deuce was to find out…

A chill crawled down your spine.

As if on cue, you heard their voices outside and hurriedly stuffed the note into your pocket.

“Where did they go?” Deuce asked.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe they went back already?”

“Let’s just call them.”

You scrambled to mute your phone, but Deuce was faster. The ringtone penetrated the silence in the hallway, and not a second later, the door was opened.

“Hey, guys.” You smiled innocently.

“What are you doing here?” Ace poked his head in, a knowing look dawning on his face. “Ahhhh, I see. Are you perhaps looking for candies from a special someone?”

“Nope.” You stood up and hung the basket around your elbow. “I was just checking to see if one of you guys would give me something. The result is heartbreaking, by the way.”

They shared a suspicious look. 

“Allow us to piece your heart back together then. We have a mission from Sam.” Deuce fished out a piece of folded paper from his jacket. “Gotta pick up something from town.”

“Great. Let’s go.” You wiped the invisible dust from your pants. It was always a treat to be able to leave the campus, and the trip might give you an opportunity to buy some flowers for tonight's date.

“Nuh-uh, not so fast.” Ace threw his arm around your shoulder. “We are going to make a stop at Savanaclaw.”

———

Ruggie was the first to greet you as you stepped out of the mirror, a large sack swung over his shoulder. He looked like Santa Claus. “Morning! Are you looking for Leona?”

“Nah, we’re here for Jack.” Ace said.

“Then he should be in his room.” Ruggie pointed vaguely behind himself, and your friends headed over, leaving you two alone.

“You’re quite the popular hyena, aren’t you?” You jutted your jaw at the bag.

“This? Nah. I just collected them from people who don’t like sweets.” He eyed your basket. “Any chance you’re one of them?”

“I mean, I’ve already got the one I want, so…” you handed him the whole thing, and his grin grew wider. Grim would've whined about it if he'd been here, but he was too busy getting his fill at Kalim’s.

“Touche. Between you and me, Leona actually spent days ruminating on what to do for Valentine’s Day. You didn’t hear it from me though.”

Thank the heavens no one was around to catch your lovestruck expression.

Speaking of the devils, Ace and Deuce promptly returned with Jack. Trailing behind by a few steps was a grumpy Leona. His eyes spotted you first, softened around the edges, before returning to drill holes in the back of Ace’s head.

Jack greeted you as soon as you were all standing together. “We’re running errands for Sam right? Let’s get to it.”

“Yes-”

“Not so fast.” Leona spoke over Deuce. “I’m coming. Jack can stay.”

“Woah, Sam’s permit only says our names, so technically you can't be off schoolground.” Ace waves the paper in the air, passing him a pointed look.

“I don’t care. There's no way I'll let you trouble magnets go out on your own.” 

“Relax, we’re not that unruly. Plus Jack's here, he’s our voice of reason.” 

Jack nodded firmly. “That’s right, I’ll make sure they don’t fall out of line.”

The irritation on Leona’s face was indisputable. Something was definitely going on in his head. 

“Be real here, why would you even want to come with us? You don’t care if we got into trouble.” Ace scrunched his face into a frown.

Leona stared down at your red-haired friend before his gaze moved to you, unreadable yet solemn. Perhaps he was anxious that you couldn’t make it back in time for the date.

“Don’t worry, we will be back before it gets dark.” Your addition seemed to be making things worse for him. He clicked his tongue and swiveled around, tearing himself away from this mess. 

After some contemplation, he bit out, “Fine, go have your fun.” 

With that finally settled, Ace and Deuce ecstatically looped their arms around Jack’s and your elbows, as if preventing you from running away, and hopped into the mirror. The last thing you saw was Leona mumbling something to Ruggie and the drop of the hyena’s jaw.

———

The townspeople took Valentine’s Day a lot more seriously than you’d expected. Bakeries had all kinds of pastries displayed readily to the lengthening queue, and customers swarmed into flower shops in hope of grabbing the last bouquets available. Even booksellers decided to join in on the fun, slapping discounts on all romance novels and comics alike. Just around the corner, a few buskers were playing some sappy love songs on their guitars in front of a thin audience.

“It’s like a whole festival here.” You commented as you weaved through the crowd with Jack. He was tall enough that you didn’t have to worry about losing him in the waves. Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce were keeping up from behind, engrossed in their own conversation. 

“I agree. I didn’t expect Valentine’s Day to be such a big deal.” He said.

“You’re not the kind of people who think it unnecessary, are you?”

“Not really. You can express your love any other day, so it’s kind of pointless from that point of view, but I guess it’s a good opportunity for people to confess their feelings.”

“I also like to think of it as a reminder for people to show their love more bravely.” You caught sight of a heart-shaped chocolate the size of a cauldron through a shop window. “...Though it can also become an unfortunate tool for capitalism.”

“I assume that you will be celebrating?”

You sensed what he was hinting at. “Yup, after some convincing. By the way, is it just me or are Ace and Deuce acting a bit weird today?”

“I thought I was the only one.” He looked back briefly, though he couldn't spot anyone with their distinctive hair colors. They were probably just distracted somewhere. “They barged into my room and told me to dress up. Who dresses up to run errands?”

Evidently he went along, seeing as how he was wearing a white dress shirt instead of his usual comfy t-shirts. 

“You don’t think they’re pranking us, are they?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Just then, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You tugged at Jack's sleeve to pull him to the side of the road. It was a rare text from Leona.

Leona: where are you?

You: just got into town

You: good thing you didn't come along, you would've gagged at the amount of lovey-dovey stuff here

Leona: so you don't know

You: ?

He spent a few seconds typing and re-typing. In your wait, you looked up and found your two friends still missing.

Leona: they're trying to set you up with jack.

What.

What the heck.

Your thoughts sped up. The picture started coming together in your head. No, it made sense. Them insisting that Jack came instead of Leona, literally telling him to dress up? 'Allow us to piece your heart back together'? All of their actions verified Leona's words. 

You: damn, ur right

You: wait, how did you figure it out?

Leona: they told me in my face when they ran into me just now. said that they were going to be matchmakers and put an end to your 'endless pining'

You: -_-

So that's why he was acting all frustrated back there. You stole a glance at Jack, who was trying to call your friends, albeit to no avail. He was definitely not going to like what he was about to hear.

You: at least we now know of their absurd plan. i'll tell jack

Leona: k

You: are you upset?

Leona: no. even if i were, i would only be upset with your nosy friends

Leona: just make sure to come back on time. you were the one who wanted to celebrate vday after all

You: roger that :)

"Was that one of them?" Jack asked as you pocketed your phone.

"Nope. You can stop calling, by the way. They're not going to answer."

He frowned as you pulled the shopping list out of his hand. "Why?"

"Because they left us alone on purpose. They're trying to play cupid." You waved the unfolded paper in front of his face. He read the content carefully before sputtering. In his head, he tried to put two and two together. The moment it all clicked, his shoulders tensed. "No way."

It was an actual shopping list from Sam, stamped by him and all, but the items were absolutely ludicrous, not to mention obvious. Roses, jewelry, plushies… and the definite proof that he was in on it, or was at least held at gunpoint as he drafted the list: the line ‘Treat yourself, little imps! Everything’s on me’ at the bottom of the page. Despite its absurdity, it was also a binding term. If you failed to get everything as instructed, he had the right to report you for leaving the campus and skipping some classes without a justified cause.

Not that he would, right?

As much as you hated to admit, there didn't seem to be a way you could get out of this mess.

"What do we do?" He shook his head. "I don't even know how they got the idea of bringing us together. And you were supposed to spend the day with Leona, not me. This is so messed up-"

"Hey, it's okay. Leona already knows. He was the one who told me."

He blinked at you blankly. "Is he going to come after me?"

You let out a laugh. "Not on my watch. Look, how about we just go along with it and get everything on the list? Then we will head back on time and I can have my date with Leona. After that we can dangle Ace and Deuce upside down outside Ramshackle."

Jack turned to the crowd, donning his deep-in-thought look. You could almost see the cogwheels moving in his brain, trying to find a way to avoid this. There was none. He shook his head at last, "Alright, let's get the stuff as soon as possible."

———

After deciding that you would buy the roses first, the two of you ventured through the streets to find a less packed flower shop. As you strayed farther from the center of the town, the number of pedestrians dwindled, and soon you could walk side by side without being bumped into and feeling your shoulder dislocate.

The silence between you was not awkward, but it was stretched, begging to be filled. Jack had always had the habit of using his words sparingly, believing that actions spoke louder, but this was different. You could tell that he was on edge, eyes darting around as if trying to catch every passing shadow, hands stuffed in his pockets, tail swishing stiffly. 

He was uncomfortable. And he was acting like he wasn't, because that's what he'd been saying for the past thirty minutes. Eventually you gave up, opting to protect that tense little bubble surrounding you.

As much as you'd like to argue that this wasn't how you usually interacted, you realized that you couldn't. Truth was, you seldom hung out outside of a group setting, and even when you were alone, it was usually for matters like how he could help cover you up as you left the group to find your favorite lion, and homework. 

To be frank, you didn't know that much about Jack.

A humble little shop was chosen at last, but even it had quite the amount of customers loitering around, most of them attempting to conceal their last-minute anxiousness. You assumed that they must've forgotten to buy something beforehand. 

"How may I help you, lovebirds?" A tall woman with baby-blue glasses greeted you enthusiastically. Jack tensed up like someone had just stepped on his tail.

"Would you happen to have red roses?" You asked instead.

"Oh, of course. How many would you like? A lot of couples go for a hundred, but the really earnest ones go for as much as two. You two look quite sweet together, perhaps you would–"

"We're not," Jack rushed to say. "We're not a couple."

"Oh," the shopkeeper squinted at you. "Ohhh… it's like that, huh? In that case, you should take a look at this guide," she pulled out a laminated sheet and slid it across the wooden counter.

It was a comprehensive guide to the number of roses and all of their meanings, from one to twenty, then skipping to hundreds and thousands. 

"Who would buy three thousand roses?" You whispered to Jack.

"I don't know," he said. "How many should we get?"

Most of the numbers carried love declarations, but there was one that fit. "How about thirteen?" 'Friends forever'.

"Looks good."

"Alright, we'll get thirteen," you gave the sheet back to the lady. She checked your choice briefly, looked up, lifted her glasses with her index finger, then nodded meaningfully. 

"Alright, thirteen red roses coming right up. You can fill this up while you're waiting." She handed you another white card and a black marker to be put together with the bouquet. The vaguely printed words instructed you to write some 'sweet words for your beloved'.

When you turned to Jack for help, he looked like he was going to run out of the shop at any given moment.

"Hey, is everything alright?" You questioned. "And don't lie to me, I can tell."

He ruffled his snowy hair, averting his eyes. "I apologize. It's just… I'm not very comfortable with all this coupley stuff."

You nodded slowly, contemplating his words. 

"It's not you, don't worry, it's just…" he shut his eyes, trying to escape the embarrassment. "You're Leona's partner, and I'm just a friend. It feels wrong to do all this with you."

Oh. Oh. 

Shit. You almost felt bad for not figuring that out by yourself. Jack, even after everything, still looked up to Leona as an accomplished role model. Not to mention he was his dorm leader and a literal force to be reckoned with. He probably thought that he was crossing some lines. 

Maybe he was. Perhaps there were unspoken rules among beastmen. And lions were known to be protective of their own pride…

When you thought about it this way, it wasn’t hard to see why he felt like a fish out of water at all. 

You tapped the marker against the counter. You never imagined that dating Leona would inadvertently cause Jack to be extra careful around you, but now that you knew, you were determined to thaw the ice. “How about we treat this as a normal, friendly hangout?” 

He arched his brow, clearly finding the idea of pretending you weren't surrounded by romance-centric decorations all around you unrealistic.

"Valentine's Day is just an excuse to promote love anyways, and love is not limited to romance, you know?" You took off the cap on the marker and started scribbling. "I can write some sweet words for you as a friend too. For one, I admire your unerring determination and your strong morals. There you go."

There was still uncertainty shimmering in his eyes as he took in your written words, but eventually he nodded. "Fine, I'll give it a try. I admire your bravery and courage."

"Aw, thank you, my dear friend." You elbowed him playfully, and he stifled a grin. 

"Here's your order, darlings!" The shopkeeper came back with the roses hugged by a pink wrapping paper. It looked like she was trying very hard not to peek at what you'd written down on the card.  You paid for the flowers and passed your thanks before heading out to the next mission.

“The best pastries in town… should we go to the pâtisserie Vil mentioned before?” Jack suggested. You agreed in a blink; it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to crown it the best among its competitors in the world.

Though on second thought, it didn't seem like a feasible idea after all. A dense group of exasperated customers had blocked the front of the shop, so much so that you could only see the boss' hands waving in the air like a drowning man's. Everyone's voices overlapped, but you could make out some common protests: not enough, waited for a long time, unfair, et cetera. 

"-ys. GUYS!" The boss' squeaky voice somehow managed to calm the ocean of complaints. The whole street dropped to silence at his command. "We are really sorry, but this is the only one we have left!"

"Then you should've baked more!' A gruff voice yelled.

"Maybe you should've ordered earlier!" The boss countered. "Anyways, I know y'all aren't going to leave me alone anyways, so to be fair," he made an air quote. "I'll let y'all fight for it. Whoever is the best at arm wrestling gets the last piece."

You turned to Jack. He bobbed his head knowingly.

Immediately, people got into groups and looked for any kind of flat surfaces– the outdoor seats of a nearby restaurant, the top of the pâtisserie's empty display case. Two men were laying on their stomachs on the gritty pavement. The crowd dispersed like ants under a rock, desperate to get that final piece of cake.

Jack grimaced. "I fear Valentine's Day is driving people insane."

"Hopefully not us." Bowing forward, you tried to take a look at the pâtisserie's sole survivor. An opening between two struggling contestants revealed that it was a piece of fruit cake.

"Pear compote." Jack blurted out.

"What?"

"That's pear compote dripped on top."

There was a distant… longing in his eyes. "Is that what you like?"

"It's my favorite. It's just the right amount of sweet, it's versatile, and my mum used to make it all the time. Everyone in my family likes it, in fact. I wish I'd brought a few more jars with me."

"Well, I'm sure we can get you the cake. I don't think there's anyone who can beat you in arm wrestling."

"No. There's one."

You crooked your brow.

He tipped his head back, staring at the sky as he relieved the memory. "Back then, Leona beat me effortlessly even after I used my unique magic."

"Whaaat." You dragged out the word. "For real?"

"I couldn't believe it at first too. It was humbling, to say the least."

"I bet I can beat him though." You mused. 

He exhaled sharply. "This is a battle of physical strength, not running head first into troubles."

"Unprovoked. But it's also a battle of wits. There's quite a few of his weaknesses I can use." The random theory took a contemplative turn as you started counting the cards up your sleeves: Leona might look like he had a rock for a heart, but you pulled a rare reaction from him the first time you called him your king. Caressing the back of his ears always elicited honest shivers. Would a smothering look or a wink catch him off guard? Hopefully he wouldn't mind you experimenting on him.

"You're probably one of the very few people who can say that." Jack shifted his weight to his other foot, briefly scanning the progress of the contestants before adopting a low voice. "I hope you don't mind me asking, it's been on my mind for some time now. How did you actually end up together? I'm aware that you got close after the Magift tournament, but the rest was a mystery… Nah, forget it. I shouldn't violate your privacy."

"I don't mind sharing," you reassured him. "Obviously it wasn't easy. He barely cared about me at first, even after the tournament, but I was determined to get to know him. There's no shell I can't crack, after all. He's strong and fierce and self-assured, but I also sensed that there was a brightness inside him that got snuffed out over time. I'm sure you're aware too. 

Anyways, the more we opened up to each other, the more I realized that he's not who he seemed to be on the surface. He's caring in his own way, and he's unfaltering when he has his mind set on a goal. His words may appear sharp, but he's not unsympathetic. Despite his arrogance, he's not so full of himself that he can't admit his faults. Where no one noticed, he was the one who found out that I was feeling out of place here… I got to know so many new sides to him. To be honest, I wasn't planning to fall in love, but this kind of thing just happens, like soft knocks on the door."

A tall woman marched past you, cursing loudly after losing her game. You stepped aside, realizing now that Jack had gone quiet. "Sorry for rambling, I got caught up in myself."

"Don't apologize. I think that it's sweet," there was a hint of a smile on his face. "You looked like my sister whenever she sees a pink morning sky just now. It's great to have someone you can rely on wholeheartedly. I'm sure he feels the same about you."

You were certain of that too. "Aw, stop. You're making me embarrassed." You punched his arm without a concern for your force; he probably didn't even feel it. 

The various battles seemed to have narrowed down to a few. The boss was standing in front of two straining men, faces red with blood, veins bulging on their necks. A battle cry forced its way out of one of them, only for him to be overwhelmed immediately. His body was loose as his boyfriend dragged him off the ground.

"Jeez. Alright, is there anyone else?" The boss asked. The victorious guy smashed his fists together, shooting silent warnings at anyone who was bold enough to even consider challenging him. No one moved.

"Me." Jack stepped forward, and you did a small, encouraging whoop from behind. The man glared into his eyes. He wasn't a lot shorter than Jack, and their physiques were similar, but you had faith in your friend.

"Start whenever you want, I'm getting sick of this." The boss mumbled.

Jack bowed his head respectfully before positioning his elbow on top of the counter, flexing his fingers. His rival mirrored him, assuming a strong grip on his hand. 

It started without a countdown, like they managed to communicate with facial expressions alone. All around you were held breaths as they struggled against each other–

–for one second. Jack immediately slammed the man's arm down like he was flipping a book.

"What the hell?" He cried out, holding his wrist in disbelief before making a run for it, as though in shame. 

"Congrats, you've won the cake!" The boss feigned enthusiasm. When the bystanders booed, he resumed his annoyed scowl, "Go home! It was a fair game!"

"That didn't go as expected," Jack told you as you watched the cake enter the safe protection of the corrugated box. "But I'm glad we won."

"All thanks to you. I didn't even get to chant my slogan. We will, we will, rock you-"

"Please stop."

"Okay." 

Laughter bubbled out of you a second later. Even he failed to hold in the titters that slipped past his lips as he shook his head. The ice was melting away already.

Jack volunteered to hold both the bouquet and the cake, so you took on the role of navigation. "Next up, we need to buy jewelry. I know a place."

It was a chain store of a brand Vil had not only done promotion for, but also personally approved of, so the quality was sure to be high. But so was the price. 

The two of you stood silently in front of the suited employee who went by Eris, staring unblinkingly at the silvery chains in the vitrine. The price tags glared back at you, who looked like you'd wandered in by accident.

"I was going to propose getting an expensive one since it's not our money anyways, but even the cheapest earring is worth ten times my life." You whispered.

"I wouldn't compare you with an earring, but I agree with the prices." 

"May I help you?" Eris asked for the third time since you'd entered the shop. 'We'll have a look around' probably wasn't going to work anymore. "Any particular kinds of accessories you're looking for?"

The thing was, neither of you wore that much jewelry anyways. It would only get in the way of his training, and you could barely spare money for your friends' birthdays, let alone luxury like this. But throwing it into your drawer with other miscellaneous trinkets was just sinister. 

"How about rings? We have promise rings for couples–"

"No, thanks."

"How about necklaces?" You suggested, which earned a satisfied look from Eris as she left to find you some styles.

"Why necklaces?" Jack asked.

"Well, neither of us is going to wear it, so I thought, why not give it to your cacti? You can put it around the pot. It'll be like dressing them up."

“A designer necklace for my cacti?” His brows knitted into a disapproving frown. “I mean, they deserve nothing less, but still-”

“Then it’s settled.” You replied. Eris arrived just then and ended any argument that might be forming in his head.

Most of the necklaces came in pairs, and each pair held no significant differences between one another. Sure, the charms varied in shapes and colors, but they were all just… argent.

Your attention landed on the pair on the fair right. Each half had a hand-shaped ornament that fit into each other when put together. The rest were pretty much the same: two halves of a heart, two halves of a cat, the same design but flipped over.

Your mind wandered. Adjacent to you was another couple admiring the opal bracelets hugging their wrists. Streaks of azure swirled within each crystal, as if there was a vast sea contained in every single one.

You really weren’t a jewelry person, yet once in a while, this kind of thing still had you indulging in daydreams. And only daydreams. It would be stupid to wear matching accessories anyways. It defeated the purpose of the whole secret relationship thing.

"In that case, I'll have this one." Jack referred to the pendant with a leaf-shaped charm. "Just one, thank you."

Eris looked bewildered, but she shrugged it off, picking up the chain and shelving the others away. It still hurt when you had to fish out all the money you had and then borrow some from Jack, but the knowledge that you could claim it all back gave a little relief to your throbbing wallet.

Jack pocketed the velvety box. "I hope it looks good with my cacti."

"Of course it will, I have immaculate taste." You wiped the tip of your nose with your thumb. 

Time flew past without a sound. You'd left school mid-afternoon, and now the blue sky had already been painted over with an amalgamation of warm hues. Your phone showed that it was already six. "We're kind of against the clock. Let's grab the last item and head back."

Your last stop was the local gift store, where a bunch of plushies and toys were displayed. As expected, the dolls were all related to love in all kinds of ways. There was a pink bear holding a love letter, two frogs with their hands sewn together, an elephant hugging a pillow in the shape of a heart. The only ones exempt from the influence of Valentine's Day were at the back of the shop. They were graduation plush toys and one that specifically said 'Happy Mother's Day'.

"Once again, this isn't my thing. I feel like you would be more interested…" he trailed off, spinning around to look for you. "Prefect?"

"Jack! Look at this! It's adorable!" You waved him over. In your hands were two avocado dolls, one with the seed in the middle and the other without. "Oh my goodness. And this!"

You picked up two monkeys that had their arms wrapped around each other. The fluffy fur seemed to melt away under your touch, and their hands could reach all the way around your waist. 

Truth was you'd already made something for Leona, but these monkeys? It was love at first sight. He was always complaining about your inability to stay over in his room anyways, so this could work as the perfect substitute. Even though he wasn't the type to hug plushies as he slept (it would probably end up on the floor), it would still remind you of each other. No one would even notice. It's not like people could just wander into his room. And yours–

Your dorm was basically a public area by now. There were times when Sebek and Epel invited themselves over and scared the living hell out of you because you'd left your phone inside with Leona's contact on the screen. Every time you had an impromptu sleepover, they made a competition out of stealing your plushies, except Sebek who had his own Malleus cushion. Deuce might not take note of the new plush member, but Ace was observant to a fault. You could already hear his voice yelling 'why do you have this monkey plush and where is the other one' in your ears.

"Then let's buy it." Jack said. 

You shook your head ruefully. "Ehh, maybe not. Now that I think about it, I don't really have that much space left on my bed."

"I thought you'd started invading Grim's?"

"Yea, but still." Returning the monkeys to the shelf, you turned around and started searching around again. 

If Ace was observant, then Jack was eagle-eyed, always detecting details in the most unlikely places. It wasn't difficult for him to notice where your attention had drifted off to back at the jewelry shop either. 

He cleared his throat. "So, about you and Leona. Have you decided how long the secrecy will go on for?"

You petted each plush you walked past, ruffling their heads. "Not yet. We'll see."

"Right," he turned the words over in his head, looking for a more natural approach. "But you’re both fine with the arrangement, obviously.”

“Of course.” You had to be. After all, you had your own reasons for keeping up the confidentiality, and you’d hate to be involved in any royal scandal Leona had mentioned. Even if the rules weighed on you at times, it was still better than attracting attention, right? “I think so.”

All this time you’d been walking on tip-toes believing that it could do more good than harm, but a short trip down memory lane proved otherwise: That one time you'd had to hide Leona in the closet, his legs had gotten so sore that you'd spent the whole light massaging the stiffness away. Your forehead was swollen for days after running into a tree while staying out of Rook’s watchful eyes. All those times you’d had to swallow the words you wanted to say to each other in public, a much needed embrace reduced to a pat on the shoulder.

It was supposed to get Ace and his naive accomplice off your back, but look where you were now: entangled in a web of misunderstandings, not only did it not work as intended, but you also got Jack into this predicament.

“...Back home, my brother always picks fights with my sister,” Jack started. “He’s at the age where he feels the need to act like an ass in any given situation. He’s stubborn about it too. Never apologizes to her afterwards. They could spend days ignoring each other.

Any time it happens when I’m around, I try to figure out how they feel. My sister thinks that he probably hates her, that’s why they never see eye to eye. Meanwhile he does feel sorry, but he doesn't know how to get over his ego."

"Typical siblings." 

"That's right. And then I sit them down and make them talk to each other."

"And it works?"

"Like a charm. Effective communication can pretty much solve half of the conflicts in the world, but it's hard to take the first step, especially when you don't know what the other person is thinking."

You let his words sink in, turning them over in your head. If you were to lay your heart completely bare, it would certainly be singing a different tune. Perhaps a chat would really make things better instead of pretending that nothing was out of place.

"You have a point there." It wasn't hard to grasp what he was trying to say, but if he wanted to be roundabout about it, then you weren't going to bring it to light. 

The two of you came to a stop in front of a felt box holding five keychains, a sweet rendition of a puppy family. He picked it up carefully. "Would you mind if I got this? My sister has always liked collecting keyrings like these."

"Sure. You're never beating the best big brother allegation, are you?"

A proud smile dawned on his face. "Hopefully not."

By the time you’d ticked off the very last item on the shopping list, night had already fallen. 

“I just realized something awful.” Jack said from behind. He was still holding the roses and cake, while you had the rest. “You didn’t get anything at all. I mean, the cake and the necklace, and even the recipient of this bouquet-”

“Hey, don’t worry. I was the one who ‘invited’ you to hang out, wasn’t I? It’s only fair that I treat you to something nice. Even though it’s Sam’s money. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

His face faltered for a second, then he assumed an earnest expression. “In that case, I promise to make it up to you, not just for the gifts, but also for the amazing company.”

"You're not so bad yourself, Jack."

The mirror portal was situated on a nearby hill, giving you the perfect view of the town under your feet. Streams of people weaved through the streets, the uniform structures and red roofs now adorned by pink banners and decorations. 

A strange sense of satisfaction filled your chest knowing that you’d completely defied what Ace and Deuce had planned for you guys. Although this wasn’t planned, you still had an amazing time roaming around town.

“Let’s head back now.” Jack said. You sent him a nod before stepping through the mirror together.

———

It was 7:45, and you were pacing around your room.

After returning to the campus and claiming the sweet thaumarks from Sam, Jack bid you goodbye and returned to his room trying to juggle all the rewards in his arms, earning envious glares from passing students.

That was half an hour ago. In that time you’d managed to rush back to Ramshackle, got dressed in the most formal outfit you could find in your humble wardrobe, and walked ten laps around the house trying to practice what to say to Leona when he got here. 

Hey, remember when we agreed to keep all of this under wraps? I kind of don’t want to do that anymore. Yea, the press could be after us. Yea, my friends are going to be a pain in the ass. No, I still want to go public with this. 

What if he felt that it was not worth the trouble? You trusted that he would respect your choices, but still-

Rapid knocks on the door pulled you back to reality. You all but stormed down the stairs and rushed to the foyer, swinging open the door.

There he was, clad in a simple black button down shirt and pants, his hair gathered in a high ponytail. In his left hand was a bouquet of roses, and in his right, for some reason, was his broom.

How did he even manage to look perfect in everything he wore? 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, kipenzi,” he stepped in and met you half-way with a kiss, trying to lean in for another when you pulled away. You almost forgot that you’d been anxious just a while ago. 

“Happy Valentine’s to you too, mpenzi,” The nickname never failed to make his tail swish in contentment. You beamed as he handed you the roses. The card indicated that there were 33 in total, and if your memory served you right, it symbolized ‘I love you’ with affection. 

“How was your day with Jack?”

“It was great.” You answered briefly, pulling him into the lounge by his hand.

“Just great?” 

“If you must know, we walked around town and bought tons of stuff. We decided to treat it as a friendly hangout.” 

“I see.” He said tersely, willing his jaw to unclench before you could see it.

“You/re not getting green-eyed, are you?”

“They’ve been green my whole life, sweetheart,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 

“Touche.” You headed to the sofa and picked up a huge paper bag. “Ta-da! Here’s something I made you.”

Placing his broom against the wall, he reached inside, expression shifting when he felt the soft fabric. Slowly, he pulled out the content and let it fall to the floor soundlessly.

It was a crocheted blanket big enough to roll both of you into a burrito, the pattern mimicking a chess board. The only detail you’d tweaked were the king pieces, which had been turned into two snoozing lions. 

He spent a good minute observing the blanket, as if trying to take in every single detail. Finally, he asked, “So this is why you couldn’t stay over at my room for the past two months?”

“Yea. It could’ve taken me a month, but I had no prior knowledge about crocheting, so I had to start from the ground up.”

“You could’ve just commissioned someone, you know. Would’ve saved a lot of trouble.” He said mindlessly, running his hand down the smooth yarn. 

“Maybe I should take it back then-”

“Hands off, it’s mine.” His face scrunched up, arms holding the blanket close to himself. During winter, his family had sent him more than enough blankets and duvets, all made with the most exquisite of fabrics, but this might just outshine all of them. “And it’s unique this way. So… thank you.”

If you were going to start the conversation, you reckoned that this was the perfect timing. "There's something I've been-"

"Wait a sec. I have more surprises." He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders so that only your head was uncovered and grabbed his broom. "Close your eyes."

You did as told, pulling the blanket up to shield your face. Some distance away, you heard the light switch flip. "I didn't know you had this many things planned."

It sounded like he was talking from a great height. "You didn't think I was just going to give you roses, did you?" Something cut through the air. "Though it did take me some time to figure out what to do, so you better appreciate it with all your heart."

"Roger that." You paced around in an aimless circle, listening to the faint winds trailing behind him as he flew around the lounge. For a moment you wondered if he was cleaning the place, but it was highly unlikely that he would volunteer doing so. 

"Okay," the next time he spoke, he was right in front of you. "You can look now."

The lights were out, which normally meant the room should be cloaked in darkness, but it was different today. On the roof were densely scattered glow-in-the-dark stickers piercing the dimness, mimicking stars. A few of them extended to the walls, as if the sky was melting. Some were larger in shape, others mere dots, but together, it looked like the whole galaxy had been moved inside.

Your mouth fell open as you took in the constellations spread out in front of you. There was seemingly no word that could encapsulate the feeling welling in your chest.

"I promised that I would show you the night sky of Sunset Savannah before, but the opportunity hasn't presented itself, so this will have to do." He leaned in to observe your face. "Hey. You're not crying, are you?"

"No." You croaked. Half amused and half concerned, he reached for your arm and pulled you into a tight embrace.

Being held by Leona never failed to make you feel like the most treasured person in the world. His fingers threaded in and out of your locks, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you hid your face in his shoulder. You leaned into him, so close that your hearts might as well melt into one. 

Leona Kingscholar had always shone in every room he was in, but nothing came close to the version of him only you got to see. His love came in both showers and drizzles, both intense and tender. It blew you away and made the lining of your stomach feel warm. He was the island you'd go to when you felt like drowning, the person you could call home in this scarily foreign land. Sometimes it felt like every bad thing would go away so long as he was holding your hand. 

He's undoubtedly the best thing that had ever happened to you, you thought, and you wanted to love him wildly for that. No hushed secrets, no retreating in the dark. You wanted to braid his hair and let the world see. You wanted to let him rest his head on your lap while you worked. You wanted to pass him tooth-rotting notes in class, and you wanted and wanted and wanted. You wanted to liberate all of these hopes and desires.

There was no way you could hide what you felt for him when it was brighter than all the stars in the universe combined.

"I need to talk to you about something." His voice was muffled in your hair. 

"So do I, actually." You tore yourself away, wiping the warm trails on your cheeks.

You followed him and sank onto the floor, shifting closer so you could get under the blanket together. He fixed his gaze on the chair behind you for a second, looking like he was trying to declutter his mind, before returning his attention to you. "What happened with Jack today has got me thinking about things between us."

Your breath hitched. It was like he was reading your mind.

"Most of the blame goes to your dumb friends, obviously. But I believe that some misunderstandings stemmed from us trying to keep everything a secret. And I know I said that it was troublesome to just go public and stuff, which I still agree with, but the truth is…" he ran his hand through his hair and it sprang back into place. "You're worth it. All of it. The press, the nosy halfwits in this school, my family, they are nothing compared to how much I absolutely adore you. Screw the troubles. I want to let everyone know that you're mine, and that I'm yours." A beat later, he added, "Plus, if something like this happens again, I'm not sure I can keep my cool."

He drew a deep breath. "The only question left is, what do you think?"

"I think-" you chuckled, feeling the previous nervousness dissipate. It's funny how effortless it was for you to be on the same page. "I think the absolute same! I've been pondering about how all this secrecy has been keeping us from each other, and I just despise that. Nothing is critical enough that it should be able to make me compromise my feelings..."

His grin grew wider and wider as you rambled on and on, until he had to cut you off with a kiss right there, laced with relief and unbridled joy. You couldn't help but smile into his touch, relishing in the new found solace. It was like your heart had found air again.

Under the starry sky, Leona rested his head against you, hand finding yours and giving it a small squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Oh yea, you want to make this a competition?" He quirked his brow, and before you knew it, you were going back and forth without a regard for the passing hours.

You might not have been able to spend the entire Valentines' Day with him, but you knew that there was still tomorrow and the days after that, enough for you to tell him all the ways you loved him as much as you wanted. It would always be like this– bathing in each other's presence, letting the love drape over you two like a blanket. 

Only this time, you wouldn't have to hold back anymore.

———

"Hey," Trey walked up to Cater, who was walking to and fro in the middle of the corridor. "What's this emergency you were talking about?"

"Trey! Thank the Queen of Hearts you're here." He pulled the taller man towards one of the dorm rooms, where the door was slightly ajar. A stern voice could be heard from within, though it was too faint for him to string together a coherent sentence.

"Jack asked me to let him in because he had something urgent to say to Ace and Deuce, and it looked like a storm was verging on his face so I complied," Cater moved aside, signaling Trey to take a peek. "He's been in there for a good while, and it doesn't sound like fun."

Trey let out an exasperated sigh. He'd spent the past few days baking cookies and chocolates, and he could frankly use a break. Still, as the vice dorm leader, he couldn't just turn a blind eye when the underclassmen got into trouble. Bending down, he squeezed one eye shut to get a clear view of what was going on inside.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room, arms in front of his chest, tail moving stiffly. The usual seriousness of his expression was mixed with an edge of irritation. 

On the edge of the bed sat Ace and Deuce, who were as still as twin popsicles, hands clenched on their laps and head low. Deuce looked especially guilty, like he'd just done something terrible like eating Riddle's tarts. Ace was mildly annoyed, but unable to utter a retort.

"...totally inconsiderate and disappointing behavior… the result could've been egregious!"

Trey blinked, then backed away from the door. "We'd better give them some more time. They've done something egregious ."

"Wow. That's a big word. I wonder what exactly they've done…" At Trey's disapproving squint, Cater waved his hand dismissively. "Don't look at me like that! Of course I won't use our cute first years as topics for gossip~"

The two made their ways back to their rooms then. Another thirty minutes later, Jack finally ended his speech in resignation, rendering the two culprits and frankly inadequate cupids speechless. In his deep breaths, he picked up the faint fragrance of roses lingering on his clothes, and let out a soft sigh.

Hopefully it was enough to repay all the presents you'd given him today.