#so no need to waste your precious time as it would just fall straight out of my head

[sylvies-kablooie]

reading a fic that is a retelling of s2 but with Improvements and honestly cannot recall which elements of the loom lore are canon and which elements this author made up because i have no capacity in my brain for technobabble.

yeah sure there's a failsafe and it nukes all the branches that got activated after sylvie killed the dude. so like there was no way freeing the timelines would ever work. was that canon? don't look at me.

and sure, the loom was only around for 1,000 years but somehow without it the universe blows up. but also life existed before the loom. it just cannot exist after it.

who knows what's going on? it is not the owner of this blog!!!

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Teamwork

Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson NSFW

Summary: When Wade and Logan return from a mission, they are looking for a stress reliever. That’s when they remember a certain joke the Reader made a few weeks back.

cw: threesome, oral f!&m!receiving, fingering, creampie, slight voyerism??, multiple orgasms,

a/n: soooooo I’ve never wrote a 3 way fic before so hopefully this does my image justice! it really is just straight up SEX. also sorry I don't proofread...

~~~

You were the apple of both their eyes. Something so precious that they both felt the need to protect. Their angel that they would do anything for.

So when you joked about a three way with them, they both took that to heart. Secretly planning with one another how they would propose it to you. Arguing about who would go where and how it would go. Neither of them were the type to share.

You sat on your bed in the apartment you shared with them. Silently reading a book one of your friends had recommended to you. Some smutty star-crossed lover story. A knock on your door pulling you away from it.

“Come in,” you called to whoever was behind the door. Wade and Logan were in the doorway, both of them clearly beaten up still in their super suits. They both looked handsome as always, those outfits always going straight to your core.

Wade flopped onto your bed, groaning as he stretched out on the soft mattress. Logan kneeled beside the bed, hunching his upper half onto the mattress. Their sweaty musk filled your room. You petted through Logan’s hair knowing the two of them were just looking for some relaxation.

“Is there anything I can do to help you guys?” You innocently asked. Unknowing of the floodgates you were about to open. Wade hopped over onto his stomach, feet kicked up behind him. “Well~ we did have something we wanted to ask you,” Wade rested his chin on his hands. You tilted your head giving Logan a questioning look. He rose to his feet and climbed onto the bed behind you. Positioning himself so that his arms and legs were wrapped around your figure. Lips pressing into your neck, hot air dancing on your skin. You leaned back into him, basking in the heat of his body.

“We were hoping— only if you wanted— you would, how do you say? Let us take you to uh- Paris? Um— Eiffel Tower style—“ Wade jokingly said pretending he could not think of the word.

“Wade—“ Logan growled not having time for his antics.

“Fuck— okay. We were wondering if you’d actually be open to a three-way, baby,” Wade crawled up the bed to be in front of you. Logan’s lips pecked at your neck, hands roaming your body. “Like a stress reliever,” Logan purred into your skin. Arousal washed over every inch of your body. Pooling deep down inside you. Growing wet just at the proposition. Cheeks flooding with your anticipation.

Wade’s gloved hands caressed up your legs, massaging your thighs. Pulling his mask up to reveal his lips. Falling down to kiss and nip at your exposed skin. “How’s it sound to you?” Wade rested his chin on your thigh, looking up at you with his question.

You remembered how you had nonchalantly mentioned a threesome with them a while back, jokingly. But in your mind it was the hottest thing you could picture. Those two hot men both taking care of you? More than you could even handle. You caressed Wade’s jaw, “I’d love to.” Wade smiled up at you, a satisfied grunt coming from Logan.

Wade pulled your shorts and panties down your legs. Logan’s hand hooking and pulling your shirt over your head. Wearing no bra underneath. Logan’s hands groped at your exposed breasts. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, stimulating you.

Wade’s breath fanned at your entrance. A grin painted on his lips. Wasting no time delving into you. Tongue flattening against your entrance. A loud moan escaped your jugular, your body pressing further back into Logan’s grasp. Logan hooked a finger under you, pressing it into your entrance while Wade sucked on your clit. You were a moaning, shaking mess in their grasp. Your head fell back into the crook of Logan’s neck. Moans pouring from your mouth as you felt your orgasm building up inside you. Logan planted a kiss on your head, lips finding their place right next to your ear. “Go ahead and cum for us, sweetness,” he purred in your ear. Your hand tangled in Logan’s hair behind you, whimpers falling as your climax inched closer to its edge.

Walls constricted around Logan’s finger. Your body arching into Wade’s mouth. “There you go,” Wade praised watching you ride Logan’s finger through your orgasm.

Wade unzipped himself, cock springing forward. He doesn’t wear underwear under his suit. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. Head swollen and red, leaking at the tip. Too caught up looking at Wade to hear Logan unzipping himself behind you. His member bumping at your entrance bringing you back to reality. You turned to look at him, Wade’s fingers grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look forward. “Ah ah ah,” he waved a finger, “That’s the plus side of getting that pretty little mouth of yours. I get your eyes staring up at me the whole time.” You could hear Logan growl behind you, anger pooling inside him.

“Open wide pretty girl,” Wade stroked himself waiting for you to give him access to you. You took him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks so that you could fit all of him. Fluttering eyes looking up at his partially masked face. Wade’s head fell back, rolling in his enjoyment. He rocked his hips into your mouth.

Thick fingers dug into your hips. Ass arching in the air for him. Logan lined himself up with your entrance, hand wrapped around his cock. Teasing his way into you, first the head then inch by inch his cock sheathed inside you. Whining around Wade’s cock while Logan pulled himself almost completely out. A loud huff coming from him before thrusting fully back in.

Euphoria. The feeling of having both of them fucking you at the same time. Wade’s cock bumping the back of your throat and Logan’s spreading and filling your insides. Tears pricked at your eyes, pleasure engulfing you. Drool escaping the corner of your lips as you choked back Wade. Gloved hands holding your jaw as he face fucked you. Jaw hanging open as he admired how your lips wrapped around his member. The way you doed your eyes up at him even while taking two men at once.

Pornographic sounds filled the small bedroom. Slobbering sounds from your mouth, along with skin slapping together as Logan thrusted heavily into you. You pulled your mouth away from Wade momentarily catching your breath. Your hand stroking his cock with a twist of your wrist. Wade moaned loudly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “You sure do know how to please a man,” Wade smiled at you.

Logan watched as your pussy took every inch he gave you. Loving how your slick looked coating his member with each thrust. Bruising strength as he held your waist. Feeling how the aftershock of your orgasm had your sensitive cunt flexing around him. Knowing he was going to get you to cum around his cock this time.

The strong taste of Wade's precum filled your mouth. Feeling him twitch in your mouth knowing it was not long before he would finish. Smiling and moaning around him. "Don't look at me like that unless you're gonna swallow what I give you," Wade smirked down at you. Heat painted your cheeks with his words.

Logan's bruising pace thrusted you deeper on Wade. Feeling his rhythm grow sloppy, but your second orgasm approaching. You swirled your tongue around Wade's member, pulling him over the edge. His hand going to hold the back of your head in place as he finished in your mouth. You swallowed each drop of his seed. His hand urging you to open up and prove you took it all down.

Logan continued inside you, fingers clawing at your hips as he fucked you over the edge. Orgasm taking over you. Your entire body shaking harder than before. Cunt milking Logan. He shot inside you coating your walls with his hot cum. Back arching taking him deeper as he finished. Grunting and moans falling from the gruff man behind you.

You took the time to catch your breath. Body feeling worked. Wade's cock hardening again catching your eye. You cocked an eyebrow at him, hint of shock on your expression.

“That’s the thing about guys with super regenerative powers— we can go all night,” Wade leaned down planting a deep kiss on your lips. You smiled up at him, Logan’s hands urging you to face him. You repositioned. Logan’s swollen cock directly in front of your face now. His smiling face looking down at you. “Think you can go for another round, doll?” His hand held your chin. Nodding with lust blown eyes. “That’s our girl,” Wade cooed from behind. You could see how Logan shot a dirty look at him, getting annoyed with his mouth. Only wanting to focus on you.

You licked the underside of his swollen cock, kissing at the leaking tip. Your taste mixed in with his own. You wrapped your hand around the base, putting him in your mouth until your lips met your hand. Logan threw his head back with a sigh, strong fingers intertwining with your hair. Wade took the time to watch as you played with Logan, feeling himself grow more and more aroused at the sight of you both. “Fuck, they’re so hot,” Wade thought.

Wade played with himself as he watched the two of you have your moment. Hand wrapping around his dick and just enjoying the show. How Logan’s veins on his arm popped, the way your ass looked arched right in front of him. He could not wait any longer to have his turn inside you. Gloved fingers groped at your ass as he lined himself up with your entrance. Stroking himself a few more times before thrusting into you. You choked around Logan with a moan feeling how Wade filled you.

A loud groan leaving Wade as he held himself inside you. Savoring the small movements of you taking Logan in your mouth. His cock overly sensitive from his previous orgasm. Loving how you perfectly wrapped around him and how Logan's previous load made your insides even more slick for him.

Logan's thick fingers roughly used your head as a handle to have you choking around him. Cock impelling your mouth over and over again as he searched for his second high. Tears streamed down your face as you gagged around him. Taste overtaking your senses. "Pretty girl, choking around me," Logan growled.

Wade began a gentle pace, head thrown back feeling the way your walls sucked him right back in. Knowing this time he would finish way faster, he took his time. He could have never imaged you would feel this good around him. The loud smacks of skin to skin was music to his ears.

You stared up at Logan. His teeth bared and brow scrunched. Sweat beamed down every chiseled inch of his body. Wet hair sticking to his forehead. Veins popping out of every part of him. He noticed you staring, a smirk creeping up on his face.

Cheeks swollen and red, tears streaming, and spit slipping out of your mouth as you sucked on Logan. Hollowing out your cheeks as you swirled your tongue around him. Feeling him twitch between thrusts. Wade's cock bumped that spot inside you that begged to push you through another orgasm. Moans echoing from each of you.

Wade shot up inside you, holding himself deep in you. Your pussy clenching around him slightly as you approached your end. Attention mostly focused on Logan before you. "You gonna take it?" Logan cocked an eyebrow. You gargled a "mmhm" around him as he sloppily thrusted into your mouth. White hot decorating your mouth. Wade's lips leaned down kissing your back as he rolled his hips into you. Your final orgasm washing over you as you swallowed Logan's load. Wade whimpered when you finished around his semi-hard cock.

You laid on your stomach. Heavy breathes raising your body off the bed. Mouth hung open as you panted. Still feeling your high from the multiple orgasms. Feeling their seed spill out of you onto your bed. The weight of the two men sinking in your mattress on both sides of you.

"Who would've thought you guys could share," you joked. Pulling a chuckle from the two of them.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I cannot express my gratitude around the joy around my last two Logan fanfics. I really love seeing everyone comment and share my posts! If you are interested in being tagged in any of my further fanfics let me know! Or if you have any requests, my inbox is always open! //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @ma-ie ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @harlequinautumn ~ @bontensbabygirl ~ @anonymouscringe ~ @itsrainingtodayyy ~ @gingerplague ~ @uminous ~ @blckbarbiedoll ~ @l0sercat ~ @tallochar ~ @allmyn1ghts ~ @suckmytoes12 ~ @fars432231 ~ @9iavolo ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~ @speedybeta ~

[yandere-romanticaa]

An idea that I really like is Ratio falling for someone who is his complete and total opposite in every way imaginable.

He is the kind of person that operates on pure cold logic and facts. He believes in what he sees in front of him with his own two eyes and yes, while it may be fascinating, perhaps even a little entertaining, to philosophize about various unimaginable concepts they are all indeed just that.

Concepts. Ideas. Things made up from the bottom of the bored human psyche.

Veritas Ratio is a man who is able to grasp many, dare he say, possibly every concept he has ever encountered. He loves a challenge but hardly anything is challenging to him because he is such a genius. He devours books that are over a thousand pages long, the most complicated equations of any science are finished by his hand with such ease that many people might mistake him for a machine rather than a man of flesh and blood.

That's what makes it so fun to see him fall for an airhead. A person who probably doesn't care, or doesn't have the mental capacity to care about such things. This person would rather spend their days dallying away, picking flowers, baking, just doing things that are so mundane and plain (to him). If they do decide to read, it is some trashy romance model, maybe even just straight up written porn if they're just that shameless.

And this is the person who has Ratio grabbing his head in frustration.

He's shaking with anger in his room, golden eyes wobbly as he watches you walk up and down the space ship. You got lost, again. How much of an imbecile are you? Do you truly need someone to guide you through everything? With a huff, the scientist grabs his head made of plaster and makes his exist. He puts the mask on and in no time finds you, all lost in the hallways. You hear his upcoming footsteps before you see him and once you turn around, you are greeted with that bizarre mask you've grown so accustomed to.

You greet the man cheerfully, to which he just huffs. With his arms crossed, Ratio gives you a long and detailed lesson on how you ought to be more careful and aware of your surroundings, that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. You are not a child and should stop acting like one.

Tears swell in your eyes but none are shed as the two of you turn back, him being a few steps ahead of you. Two pairs of footprints sound incredibly loud in this long and dark corridor. Veritas hears you quietly weeping and he feels the slight inkling of guilt pulling his heartstrings.

... Perhaps he was a smidge too harsh with you.

You are a clueless creature, sure. But maybe, he sometimes reveled in that fact. It was wrong and he would never admit it out loud but his heart whispered it clearly to him - you like this.

Veritas watched you carefully through the reflection of the window, the plaster head concealing the expression on his face. With your lips in a full pout and eyes watery like fresh morning dew, he couldn't help but to be just slightly charmed.

He scoffed to himself as he pressed onwards. He figured he had better standards for himself but that was not the case, clearly.

And just like that, he had escorted you back to your room. He could hear you mumble out a quiet thank you, which he acknowledged with a polite nod with his head.

He's not that cruel. Or rude for that matter!

With the situation now swiftly dealt with, Ratio figured it was high time he went back to his studies. He has already wasted far too much precious time on this, he isn't even sure when he'll finish that -

His train of thought is broken when he feels a pair of arms gently embrace him from behind, the warmth welcoming and dare he say sweet.

Veritas stilled, his body like the statue which some saw him to be. You still could not see his face but his anger could still be felt.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" he spat at you, his tone cold but venomous.

He felt your face being pressed against his broad back, fat tears caking his fine clothing. Just as he was about to pry your hands off him, he heard you finally speak:

"Thank you for helping me. Really..."

Your tone was soft and remorseful. You did not want to disturb him but despite that, you did just that. He was willing to accept your apology and have this situation be over with but what you said next simply knocked all of the air out of his lungs.

"You see, I... I wasn't sure how I could get your attention. I just wanted you to notice me, to talk to me..."

.... Goodness.

He was used to people trying to get his attention but to act like such a pathetic damsel in distress was new. He had to give you credit for your creativity, at the very least.

"I want to be your friend. I also want you to teach me all sorts of things-"

Ratio stopped listening to you mid sentence, his mind running hundreds of laps in thought. Perhaps you weren't the idiot he saw you as. Your little ploy worked, clearly. And if he took you under his wing, who knew what would become of you.

He could turn you into a diamond with his own two hands.

It was embarrassing just how giddy the thought made him.

The shadows of curiosity and some other emotions took over his mind as he analyzed the situation. There really was no harm in taking you all for himself.

Besides, if you were capable of this deceitful plan, who knew what else you could do?

He was eager to find out.

[clairdelunelove]

badges of honor

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (sticker drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, protective!ghost

synopsis: ghost doesn't understand the appeal of receiving stickers, a tangible reward, after the completion of successful missions. never thought it was necessary for his efforts. however, his mindset changes when he finds out you're the one handing them out–

a.n. just a silly lil blurb that floated around in my mind for some time! decided I'd write it and I'm thinking about writing something similar for könig too! hope you're all well! and if you wish to show more support here's my kofi! <3

-

-

-

holding onto the belief that ghost would stubbornly swallow his pride and allow you to decorate him in cutesy unnecessary stickers.

-

it starts with price’s recommendation of implementing a routine of handing out stickers after successful missions. he insists it’s a great way to dial into intrinsic motivation. to keep the task force motivated to dedicate their best into every operation. a way to recognize positive behavior. a byproduct of hoping for the most favorable outcome in war where the only images are bloodshed, conflict, and hostility. it’s a stark difference. “who knows,” price’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug as he addresses the fierce group settled around him, “it might just help you lads.” it’s a harmless and cost-efficient idea to justify the boxes of tangible reinforcements that are shipped to the base. literal cartons of sticker books that range from the traditional ‘great work!’ to ‘prized soldier!’ and the notion seems childish (disguised to be more of a scheme, in all honesty). that is, until the pieces of sticky, illustrated adhesives start working– boosting the soldiers’ determination for the taste of victory– because you’re the one handing out the affordable versions of chest candy. they adore saccharine treats. and over time, so does ghost. 

ghost who initially loathes the new process that price endorses. he’s good at his job. knows he’s an expert in clandestine tradecraft. doesn’t need a miniature label tapped on his chest to recognize that no one does a better service in infiltrations or sabotages in risky environments than he does. he’s in and out like a gust of wind. well, more similar to a grim reaper that takes and punishes whoever he deems fit. a brutish force not to be reckoned with. and he reasons that this little sticker ceremony ultimately wastes time. precious alone time that ghost exploits to catch up on some well-deserved rest or exercise. because training after an intense mission totally makes sense to the lieutenant. yet, he’ll doggedly line up with the rest of the task force and await getting crowned with the bane of his existence. doesn’t wish to stir the pot with price and sit through being lectured. so he stays. and he’s a bit taken aback when he catches a glimpse of you handing out the stickers; a beaming smile on your lips while you press an overly exaggerated thumbs-up design onto the front of a soldier’s vest. 

ghost who rasps, “I’ll pass,” before your fingers can pin the sticker onto him. unaware that his voice would come out grainy from the weeklong mission and, involuntarily, blunt. brash. the complete opposite of how he wished to sound towards you. notices the surprise in your eyes due to the acidity of his voice and how you instinctively shrink from him. he shifts, straight away, and hastily tries to take back his tone of voice. to right his wrongs. to atone for his mistake. however, your nervous movement is swiftly replaced with your usual upbeat nature as you plaster on a grin and dramatically bring the back of your hand to your forehead to mimic a fall, “woe is me.” you exhale pointedly while mentioning, “whatever shall I do with all these stickers then?” and ghost understands that it’s so typical of you to hide your hurt with witticism. you’re too considerate. too bright. a touch of color to his monochrome soul. venturing a step closer to you, he lightly scoffs at your melodramatic behavior and remarks, “woe is most definitely not you. now get up, pup.” and before you can comprehend, his gloved hand wraps around your wrist to gently pry it away from your face. “changed my mind,” he murmurs while indicating to the book of stickers that you casted aside, “pick one f’ me, will ya.” 

ghost who refuses to comment on your shaky fingers to save you from embarrassment. it’s endearing that despite the layers of heavy clothing, you’re still hesitant to touch any part of him. “you’re all set,” you quickly chirp before stepping back to admire your handiwork. or so you tell yourself that excuse. in reality, you’re teetering on the edge of becoming distracted by the heat that he radiates. and he savors how your gaze dances across his masked face but evades his intense eyes. the most profound part of him that reduces you to stumbling on your words like a drunk. intoxicated by him. it’s like he’s drinking you in and allowing himself a selfish taste of your beauty. a thought that causes you to heavily gulp. to take your mind off of the blatant yearning, you teasingly raise the sticker book up to him, “how about I add another one? this one has glitter—” “that’ll do,” ghost interjects and turns to leave. his immediate answer and retreat brings about a genuine laugh from your lips. it’s music to his ears. wagering a glance to his chest, he notes the sticker you chose for him. cursive letters twisting into ‘you’re a star!’ followed by a smiling gold star draws his attention. you don’t spot it but as he leaves, his gloved fingers reach up to smooth the sticker over his vest. to pat it down so it stays a while longer. 

ghost who attempts to convince himself that his disinterest toward the small slips of adhesive paper is still the truth. they’re just for show, right? no one really pays attention to how some of the stickers varied in size. they’re all mature adults. and it was completely unrelated how there’s regular bickering amongst various recruits that compared their hard-earned rewards. doesn’t admit that his chest visibly swells with pride whenever the other soldiers point out that ghost always receives the biggest sticker. purposefully taunts them by stating, “get better then, yeah?” he also fails to acknowledge that you’ve coerced and conditioned him to accept them like a pavlov experiment. after all, your unwillingness to comment on how he noticeably leans over so you can put stickers wherever you wished must mean that it doesn’t happen. and in the scenario where it could perhaps occur, you shouldn’t blame him because ghost was certain no one else had the willpower to brush you away. you with gentle fingers and an angelic voice. singing him a siren song whenever you mutter, “for your excellent work, lieutenant,” as you smooth on another ridiculous sticker. his heart stutters in his chest when he feels how your hand tentatively flattens against his chest. the broad muscle causing you to hum appreciatively before gracing him with a coy smile. an interaction that replays in his mind whenever he’s awake and follows him to sleep. 

ghost who clenches his fist so tightly that his blunt nails bite into his own palm when he overhears a lowly recruit outrightly insult the implemented routine. hears them utter (when you’re out of earshot of course because goodness forbid that they have courage) ‘bullshit’ and how you were ‘off your rocker for putting up with this waste of time.’ and ghost isn’t usually responsive in situations like this. he’s got a covert operation to focus on in about 15 minutes. a level-headed person was far more intimidating and efficient during classified matters. now, however, his heavy boots thud against the floorboards when he stalks toward the recruit. an abrupt wave of darkness and unabridged horror before the recruit is face-to-face with ghost. “problem?” he asks challenges, voice dead and devoid of sympathy. his head slowly tilts and the action creates a dismal shadow over the eye sockets of his mask. ominous and menacing. everything that ghost is infamous for. knows he’s won when the recruit’s apology is nasally and on the verge of crying but their reaction isn’t his personal interest. what he does undertake as his responsibility, though, is when he’s called into price’s office for a debrief. he pockets some of the miscellaneous sticker books that sit on the superior’s desk. wordlessly hands them to you when you’re both briefly passing each other in the hallway. and while you profusely thank him for the additional sets (vaguely wondering what caused the change in his behavior), you playfully press a sticker above the lower portion of his mask– right where his lips are. somewhere new. you leave him rooted to the spot, the sweet gesture sending him into a stupor, and call over your shoulder, “compensation for the stickers!” he watches as you hurriedly dart away before he can react but there’s no need. he unabashedly smuggles more stickers from price’s office in hopes of reaping a similar repayment again.

ghost who reasons that stickers aren’t that bad if you’re the one giving them out. he organizes himself with the rest of the force, a brooding figure that patiently waits in the back of the line. favors being the last one because you’re able to utter more than a few words of encouragement to him. if he’s lucky then you converse and excitedly share your day with him– like you currently are. “want me all to yourself, do you?” you heartily tease him upon noticing that he’s consistently been last in line for the third time in a row. he shifts on his feet, makes a show of looking around at his fellow team members that are filtering out of the room, and deliberately concedes, “‘suppose so.” his frank answer is followed by a flustered roll of your eyes but it’s the genuineness that causes your heart to flip. you force yourself to concentrate on the task at hand– giving out prizes. unsteady fingers lifting at the sticker page, you skim the options before spotting a perfect one. your teeth catch the edge of your bottom lip as you can’t help but question, “you say that to everyone, simon?” his real name on your glossy lips. a prayer that he desires to hear being chanted over and over as he holds you in his arms. the gaze he wraps you in is burning. tempting. exhilarating. you push yourself up on your toes to reach out and place a sticker on his cheek. on the hard shell of his skull mask that you’ve learned will ultimately end in halfhearted chiding because the adhesive is difficult to remove off of it. ghost catches a glimpse of the sticker that you’ve picked. the bolded words of ‘#1 lieutenant’ flashes at him. and the sticker is like a brand you’ve adorned him in. an embellishment that he proudly displays and wears because it’s what you’ve given him. he hums, dark and inquiring, when he leans to graze his masked lips against your inner wrist. his eyes are heady and half-lidded. clouded with a violent craving for you– always you. visibly strains to make contact with your exposed skin by tilting his head to place another chaste kiss on your hand while murmuring, “just to the sweet ‘n pretty ones that I fancy.” 

[writinandcrying]

TMNT HEADCANONS - Taking naps with the turtles / having a sleepy S/O

As someone who has accidentally slept for 23 hours straight and literally has a nickname as “snooze” I’m obligated to do this (I tried to look for a cute / aesthetic gift but that pup is my spirit animal fr)

I’ve been digging how @oozedninjas does their Headcanons (as long with their writing, I seriously eat it up everytime yum yum yum)

as much as I love looooong Headcanons, sometimes I only have some blurbs going on in my mind, I also think this keeps things so dynamic, every interaction can be seen and everyone is happy yipee (I hope you don’t mind me using your writing style? Headcanon Set-up? Layout? as reference! Pls let me know if so, I’ll def take it out or reference you on new ones!)

English is not my first language and I didn’t proof read this, if there is any gramatical erros pls don’t hesitate to tell me!

• Isn’t the one for naps, lowkey thinks it’s a waste of time, he rather do activities with you! Time is precious! That being your hobbies or his, talking, playing games or reading, he has his mind set on it… until you flutter your lashes at him, giving him puppy eyes, and suddenly at the warm of your embrace, the way you hum over his plastron, how cute and serene you look… he starts questions himself, why haven’t you two done this sooner?

2003, 2012, Rottmnt Donnie

2003, MM Raph

2003, MM Mikey

All Leo’s (minus MM and rise) lmao

• Has been waiting for it. Since you two have been officially a thing, he has been patiently waiting for it. wants to do nap dates, casual napping after Sunday lunches, accidentally napping from watching a boring film, coming home late and you are tired? Lay on top of him babe, let him will take care of you 🫶🏼 adores the innocence of holding you close, caressing your skin as you caress him back, finally admiring your features while you sleep, he longs for it, absolutely eats it up

MM AND ROTTMNT LEO !!

2007, 2012, ROTTMNT, Bayverse Mikey (keeping bayverse and 2012 still would be A Task (but anyways BOTH WANTS IT) 2007 is probably tired all the time bc of his gigs lol)

Bayverse, ROTTMNT RAPH !!!!

2007 and 2003 Donnie

• How come you are always this sleepy? This doesn’t make sense, something has to be wrong with your vitamins levels, have you been sleeping at night? Are you having nightmares? What kind of meds are you taking? Your sleep schedule and how you can just simply fall asleep everywhere is astonishingly worrisome, he will look into it

Take a wild guess (all versions)

Doctor feelings

• HE is the who Needs a nap. Drag him to his bed. Hold him close, put ambient music, kiss him softly and don’t let go.

2007 Leo, Future!Rottmnt Leo

2003, 2007, Future!Rottmnt DONNIE !

Future!rottmnt and Last Ronin Mikey

Future!Rottmnt, bayverse, 2007 Raph

Everyone in IDW-TMNT

Not a turtle, but Rottmnt Casey Jones

• can’t take naps (light sleeper or doesn’t want to mess their sleeping schedule) but enjoys you being by his side anyways, will give a dirty look to whoever makes loud noises next to you, tries to always save the most comfortable spots for you on movie nights, he knows you are bound to fall asleep. will takes embarrassing pics of you tho

Take another wild guess (all versions)

And another one (all versions as well)

Mm Donnie

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 1774 words

a/n: ahhhh it's so surreal to know so many of you like this story!! thank you, thank you thank you so much!! your comments, likes and reblogs mean the absolute world to me!! I already have another fic in mind that I can't wait to share hehe. I was hoping to have this posted yesterday but the week was a bit busier. I'm aiming to post twice a week now that the story will pick up from here! hope you enjoy this chapter!! lots of love <3

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Chapter 3

Things hadn't been the same for the boys anymore. It was six months since you disappeared, without any trace and they were unable to locate you with their bond. Fear had engulfed them when they were told of the attack. They wasted no time in getting back to the mansion to protect you, as their mate and alpha protectiveness senses rang out.

But when they returned, you were nowhere to be found. Cleo, who had been saved by a member of the pack recounted what happened up until you two went separate ways. They searched for you but came back with no clues.

Where did you go? 

In fact, when they tried to call for you through the soul bond, they discovered how strained the bond had become. 

Slowly, each member began to realise just how little they had seen or been with you, and could not even recall the last time you spent time together. At first they tried to deny the truth, surely, there had to be another reason? They couldn’t fathom not taking notice sooner and allowing the connection to reach like this. 

Hongjoong's father wasted no time in educating them about their actions when they came to him seeking answers, especially when his wife tried to pipe in.

“It’s your fault.” he declared unapologetically. 

As he recounted everything to them, they were shattered and distraught by their actions. It dawned on them how ignorant they were to assume that you would always be there no matter what. If there was anything they were taught, it was how precious life is and how important it is to care for those around you. 

How could they do this to you?

"We all make mistakes." Mr. Kim said, "But one can only be redeemed, when he’s willing to learn from it and make a change."

After that confrontation, neither of the boys were the same again. With you now apart from them, your missing presence was felt more than ever in the home. Yeosang walked the mansion’s hall completely despondent, hoping to possibly find you in the little corner where the two of you read, every time he entered the room. Alas, you were not there. When Yunho woke up every morning and heard movement in the kitchen, his heart raced as he believed it was perhaps you, making breakfast just as you always would…but it was only Seonghwa who carried about low-spirited and disheartened. Yunho noticed the dark circles that were forming under the eldest eyes - Seonghwa never slept like he used to, getting approximately 3 to 4 hours of sleep and waking up at daybreak, trying to busy himself so he could forget the aching feeling in his chest just for a little while. He didn’t cry but rather, bottled up his emotions since being the eldest, he felt like he needed to be the strong one for the others. But, like every glass that reaches its brim, Seonghwa finally broke down when Yunho approached and back-hugged him in the tightest hug possible as he let his own tears fall. 

Unlike Seonghwa, San and Jongho slept all day when they could and only left their rooms, if it was for something important. But nothing else felt important except you, so much to their disdain, they ventured out of their rooms, only to head straight back once they got home. Wooyoung became quieter and stuck to Yeosang like glue. He didn’t do or say anything much, he was just there. Sometimes he would stare at the front door, hoping to see you waltz in with your charming smile and he could rush to you and spin you around like he always did. And then playfully scold you and then apologise profusely.

However, there was one particular wolf who was extremely impacted to the point where nothing could comfort him. While the others still tried to find solace in sleep or in each other, Mingi was unable to find consolation in anything. He felt like his heart had been ripped off his chest and there was a void that was only something you could fill. But they still couldn't find you. Mingi tried to initiate the bond hoping that you would feel it and call out to him, but like all the other times he tried, there was no response. He cried until the early hours of the morning and he could not sleep. Even if he dozed off, his dreams were of you and then he would jolt awake again, the aching, distressful and bitter void resurfacing again and he remembers you’re still not here. Then the cycle would continue.

As the boys coped differently, the most different was Hongjoong, who by all accounts had become emotionless and also very mean. He would let Lila wrap her arms around him as if they were a couple, he would try to bring her home only to have Seonghwa immediately denounce it and make it abundantly clear that this kind of behaviour would not be allowed or tolerated. Lila would leave the second she stepped foot into the foyer and Seonghwa and Hongjoong would have it out until the latter stomped off to his room never to be heard from again until the next morning. And that was if anyone did see him. He would leave before Seonghwa came out of his room. It took all effort in Mingi when he did see Hongjoong to not punch him in the jaw. He did not know what he was playing at, and quite frankly, he did not care to know Hongjoong's excuses as he was already extremely fed up, especially because of the way Hongjoong's mother spoke.

"Maybe you should forget her and move on with someone else," she said as she eyed Lila, “The pack needs their Luna and people are talking.”

That was during a family dinner with all their respective families. First and foremost, Mingi was not amused. He was already dragged to the dining hall against his will, and then when he saw Lila present standing next to Hongjoong, he was ready to just explode into thin air. And then, Hongjoong’s mom decided to speak, and that was the last straw. 

It didn't take even a second for Mingi to slam his hands on the table and get up with a low growl in his throat.

“With all due respect Mrs Kim, I suggest you stay out of our personal lives and let us handle it on our own. Your comments are very unnecessary.” he seethed venomously. 

 Mingi then stalked off, slamming the door behind him. He didn't care if he was disrespectful, he was fed up with the nonsense. It baffled him as to why Mrs Kim had such disdain for you, ever since he met you, you told him about her low tolerance for you but there was never a clear indication as to why. 

He knew you were still alive and he knew the other boys felt it too. Your soul connection was still there, though strained, he could feel it lingering. But where exactly were you? He was interrupted by Wooyoung shouting his name.

“Mingi wait!”

“What are you doing here Wooyoung?”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave like that, not everyone is pleased at your outburst.”

“And? I do not care Wooyoung, I’m not going back to listen to Mrs Kim spew ridiculous nonsense. Lila shouldn’t even be there.”

“I know and I agree. Mrs Kim has wanted to replace Y/N since the beginning but she should know better than to even suggest something like that.”

“Go back and tell them I won’t be coming back any time soon. I need to clear my head.”

“Fine but please reach out, I can’t lose you too…” Wooyoung muttered.

Mingi turned to the black-haired boy and saw the fear in his eyes. Wooyoung is the second youngest and basked in being taken care of, doted on and adored by you. In contrast to Jongho who was more reserved most of the time and sought you out privately, Wooyoung, although an alpha, is like a playful child. You were right in between Mingi and Wooyoung in age and so, right before you came Mingi and at a time like this, Wooyoung saw Mingi as the closest.

“I will, don’t worry.” he answered in a soothing and reassuring tone.

After Wooyoung left and Mingi decided he wasn't going back home to get an earful from his parents, he sauntered off towards the lake and the Moon temple. 

He recalled Cleo saying it was the direction you went when you two broke off. Maybe he could find something there.

Arriving at the clearing of the lake, he saw the shimmering blue water glistening under the moonlight. It was another full moon, just like when you disappeared. He had to spend the holidays and his birthday without you and he hated it. Mingi couldn’t even recollect the times he had spent holidays and birthdays by himself. As soon as you and the boys came into his life, his life became a kaleidoscope of colours. 

When Mingi saw the temple, he felt his walls come down. He forgot about Mrs Kim’s comments and the anger that bubbled through his veins. Instead, the wave of pain and hurt opened like a locked dam and he fell on his knees in front of the temple, choked with tears.

"Please..." he cried, "Please bring her back. I need her. I-I was so wrong for what I did. I can't believe I treated her that way. I promise! I'll do better! I won't ever neglect her again. Please bring my angel back. Please."

Mingi sobbed and sobbed profusely that he didn't hear the rumble the first time. He thought it was his stomach and now was definitely not a good time. But then the second time, when he realised it was coming from elsewhere, he turned around to see the ripples in the lake and how much more brightly the water shone under the moonlight. It was mystical and divine. He approached the lake cautiously, he couldn't explain it, but he felt a pull and for some reason…he felt you. Your tie to him and your aura felt to be coming from the lake. But was that possible? He pushed away any intrusive thoughts, focusing solely on you, a clear image of your bright smile and eyes lit up etched into his mind. It was the way you would always look at him as you cupped his face in your hand and teased him before kissing him.

Mingi inched closer, trying to take his time.

But then he fell in.

[randomfoggytiger]

If Mulder and Doggett Were Partnered in Season 8

@thursdayinspace, I got swept up in your alternate Season 8 idea. So, I sat down and wrote it up.

I'm operating under the assumption that Scully is pregnant; but if she weren't, Mulder and Doggett would still form a friendship along the same lines, albeit without a shared sense of loss between them. Deadalive would then focus on Scully's struggle to reintegrate after Kersh refuses to reassign her to the files, and Essence-Existence would follow other mytharc beats without a baby involved.

Lastly: Mulder would have to find out about her pregnancy in order for the level of emotional turmoil to remain equal.

THE PLAY-BY-PLAY PLOT

Scully is pregnant, and abducted.

Within. Doggett insinuates Mulder knows more about Scully's disappearance than he lets on. Skinner intercepts a punch from Mulder (having hovered nearby, knowing he'd act out in some way) and separates the two before Kersh becomes involved.

Doggett traces Scully's last movements to Mulder's apartment, where he clearly states his motives and intentions. Mulder notes but doesn't soften to Doggett's straight-forward sincerity, deciding to work around and largely ignore the other agent... until Doggett shocks Mulder with the results of Scully's blood work (a test she'd done before flying back to Oregon.) Shattered and desperate, he charges out to the UFO landing with Skinner after a call from TLG.

The flashes we get to Scully on the ship are in the same vein as Ascension, i.e. Mulder imagining worst-case scenarios.

The rest of Without unfolds; but it does open up a great opportunity for Mulder to lose it if he has to shoot Scully's clone (instead of Skinner's) to save Gibson. That, and the unprocessed grief from losing his pregnant partner-- again-- might cause him to collapse and (silently) weep. This humanizes him to Doggett (who lost a child, too); and the latter takes the x-files assignment with a little less resignation, seeing it as a way to redeem his own past mistakes.

Patience. Manbat. Doggett squares off with the sheriff at the house, cop style, rankling Mulder. Mulder later ditches Doggett for the cemetery and witnesses the sheriff's murder. The local police don't believe him, thinking his theories have wasted precious time; but Doggett ends up making a connection with past news reports (without believing fully them, of course.) The rest of the plot happens, yadda yadda.

Roadrunner. Events fall out the same, except Doggett has to walk Mulder out of town. Mulder won't apologize but does take what Doggett says on the chin, acknowledging his points silently.

Invocation. Not only does the boy's case tear at Doggett's wounds, but Mulder's as well: because of Scully and the baby, sure, but also because of Samantha and starlight. (That would have been a better episode overall, I think. Imagine if it were at the tail end of Season 8 after Mulder's return, squeezed between Alone and Essence. Alas.)

Redrum's the same.

Via Negativa is where it could get interesting. I have two theories: 1. Mulder ditches Doggett to chase a UFO sighting (and Skinner covers up for him); or 2. Mulder starts developing symptoms he's afraid might be linked to CSM's deterioration after the Amor Fati surgery, causing him to be down and out for the rest of the episode. The symptoms either stick long enough to be cured in The Gift or melt away, a nothing burger (like the canonical brain disease plotline.)

Surekill, Salvage, Badlaa, who cares.

The Gift. Again, two theories: 1. Doggett stumbles onto shady things Mulder did off-the-grid during the Via Negativa episode-- really, really questionable moral decisions-- to get answers. Skinner advises him to let it go, for everyone's sake. 2. Mulder disappears again and Doggett traces him to the magic man's house where he just misses Mulder being cured of brain disease (because Mulder took miracle man up on the offer, needing to be alive to find Scully.) He finds Mulder unconscious and the other man weakened by the procedure; and intercepts the local police's attempts to capture and rug sweep. He's killed, then healed. When both men recover, Mulder shares his own experience with near death (obliquely, as is Mulder's way.) The episode continues, the end.

Medusa is the first episode where they're both a team. Doggett stays up top while Mulder explores the tunnels.

Per Manum. Mulder becomes too emotionally involved, tying his IVF journey with Scully to the case. Skinner calls him out, saying he's "saving" the Haskell woman as a proxy because his own pregnant partner is missing. Mulder does not take the victim to a military base; but his truck is intercepted, he's knocked unconscious, and the woman is taken (by Doggett's pretend friend Rohrer), regardless. Doggett relays what everyone believes, but says he understands what Mulder's going through.

This Is Not Happening. The only changes would be that Monica Reyes starkly reminds Mulder of Melissa Scully, and that he yells for Jeremiah Smith to come out while cradling Scully's "dead" body.

Again, we hit a crossroads: does Jeremiah Smith heal Scully?

If he does, then Deadalive focuses on Scully's struggles working back from her abduction and "replacement" on the files (she'd likely flunk all the tests for field work because of her vivid memories and trauma, to begin with), not to mention her pregnancy.

If he doesn't, then This Is Not Happening-Deadalive Mulder will have to put on extended "medical" leave following Scully's burial. Kersh seeks dismissal but is held at bay by the optics of the situation. Skinner digs up Scully and bears the brunt of Mulder's anger when the latter isn't immediately told. Krycek doesn't make a deal with Skinner (both know there would be no gain unless Mulder's in that hospital bed) and yanks Scully off life support. One of two things happen: 1. the episode unfolds as usual or 2. Mulder chases him down and they have a conversation at gunpoint, with Krycek claiming his actions saved Scully's life, then threatening to exposure for Mulder's actions in Via Negativa if he's not let go. Somehow, Krycek gets away (likely because Mulder pauses long enough for Doggett to catch up and reason with him, revealing he'd learned the sordid details during The Gift.)

Three Words through Alone. Lots of trauma for Scully and Mulder, I'm sure.

THE FINALE

Essence and Existence.

The Supersoldiers can stay because they will give Mulder and Scully renewed purpose for Season 9. However, they are not indestructible, and are few in number (with only a few being able to turn because of Jeremiah Smith's healing efforts.) If they've infested government, then only a few key positions.

Option One

Essence: The plot unfolds like normal until Krycek drops in and saves Mulder and Scully from Billy Miles. He warns them about an alien elimination program to clean up loose ends (not because of some Messiah baby) and offers them a place to hide out. Mulder and Scully escape with Krycek's coordinates while Skinner and Doggett destroy Billy in the garbage truck.

Existence: After they leave, Knowle Rohrer contacts Doggett and warns him Krycek recently switched sides and is leading Mulder and Scully into a trap. (If Mulder has dipped into darkness during Via Negativa, all the more motive for his enemies to want him permanently out of the way.) Skinner and Doggett track and confront Krycek for information; and in the scuffle Skinner kills him to save Doggett's. They triangulate coordinates with TLG; and, realizing the location is in Mexico, call in Monica for help. Meanwhile, Mulder and Scully deduce they're being followed. Here's where the episode can get its Chris Carter drama: the two switch course without the viewers knowing, and Scully's labor and delivery happen (safely) concurrent to Skinner, Doggett, Reyes, and the Supersoldiers running into each other at the original location and fighting it out. The Supersoldier group isn't large enough to beat back the ambush, and retreat, setting up a problem Mulder, Scully, and the gang will have to deal with next season. Everyone gets home happily, the end.

Option Two

Essence is the same, but Existence takes a turn. Rohrer contacts Doggett to let him know the Supersoldiers aren't a danger to Scully or the baby. Their mission is to take back alien tech from the remaining Syndicate's grasp, which is against Krycek's group's interests. Krycek sent Mulder and Scully to a fringe Syndicate conclave, where Scully and the baby will be detained and tested in the hopes that their DNA will somehow unlock the elusive Colonization cure. (If Mulder did shenanigans during Via Negativa, all the more reason to eradicate him from the game.) Doggett and Skinner track Krycek, Skinner kills Krycek, they triangulate coordinates with TLG, call in Reyes, and head out.

Mulder and Scully either veer off-course last minute, wary, or follow-through on the plan and reach the compound.

If both agents reach the compound, they either 1. evade capture long enough for the Supersoldiers (who'd used them to find Krycek's group) to surprise everyone and burn the place down or 2. are captured but escape during the ensuing chaos. Mulder and Scully and the Supersoldiers go their separate ways, knowing their paths will cross again. William is likely born off-screen, the end.

CONCLUSION

And there we go!

Don't know what this accomplishes, but it was fun.

[sickficideas]

nice try || SSKK sickfic

ao3! 7.1k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2023, day 7: "you're a jerk when you're sick"

Atsushi really doesn’t think Akutagawa should be on this mission. He's already the most difficult person in the world to work with, but he's somehow even more stubborn and rude when he's ill.

"We don't need the two of us waiting here or the informant. Go ahead and head back to your agency," Akutagawa grumbles, stepping back into the shade with his arms crossed over his chest. He coughs twice, only briefly covering his mouth, likely thinking Atsushi didn’t notice.

Atsushi huffs. He moves so he's standing in front of him and puts his hands on his hips to show he's staying where he is, but even while he's in Akutagawa's view, the latter's avert him completely.

"Dazai told us both to stay here in case they cross us," Atsushi huffs. "You want to go against his orders?"

"You're far too incompetent. Even if they were to betray us, I could easily handle a traitor on my own,” Akutagawa huffs. He’s so delusional that he thinks Dazai would praise him for something like that. Atsushi doesn’t even want to think about the scary face Dazai would make if he found out Akutagawa did something like he’s suggesting.

“Well, I’m not leaving, so suck it up,” Atsushi tells him, leaning against the wall beside him, a safe distance away in case he tries to do something.

Akutagawa looks like he wants to say something back, but instead a hand comes up to cover his mouth as he starts to cough again. Atsushi is used to that by now, but today, it sounds worse. It sounds hoarse, like it’s been happening more than usual and his throat is sore from the strain., but it sounds deeper too. Not like the usual dainty coughs he’s used to hearing from him. His shoulders are nearly hunched over as he coughs into his hand.

Atsushi has learned not to say anything. He really doesn’t have any idea why he coughs all the time. Maybe he’s a smoker, maybe he’s got a sensitive throat - it’s anyone’s guess, but he knows that if he ever bothered to ask, Akutagawa would not give him a straight answer.

Atushsi takes note of how Akutagawa checks his hand as he pulls it back from his mouth. Strange. He crosses his arms back over his chest.

“Do you want some water or something?” Atsushi asks, sounding a little more accusatory than he means to.

“No, but it’d be nice if you would let me decapitate you,” Akutagawa mumbles in a soft voice. He almost sounds out of breath.

"You're a real jerk when you're sick. You know that?" Atsushi huffs.

"I think you've said this today already," Akutagawa says, rolling his eyes. "Come up with something else."

"I take it back, you're actually a jerk all the time. You're just more of a jerk when you're sick,” Atsushi groans. He’s so over it. He wants to call Dazai and ask if he really needs to be here. He highly doubts most foes need a team as combative as the two of them. Akutagawa probably could handle it on his own, but Dazai wants the two of them to work together, for some reason.

"I'm not sick. Stop saying that,” Akutagawa murmurs. “It’s just this ocean air.”

Atsushi doesn't even feel like arguing with him anymore. Akutagawa is so frustratingly stubborn, it's unbelievable. Atsushi knows he’s sick. He can see the sweat along his hairline from here, even six feet away, but he’s shivering. There’s a bit of a breeze from the ocean on the ship, but not enough to make someone shiver, even though they’re in the middle of fall.

"When is he supposed to get here?" Atsushi huffs.

"I don't know,” Akutagawa says simply.

“Okay, then I’m gonna look around the boat. Just yell if you need something,” Atsushi mumbles.

“I will most certainly not be doing that,” Akutagawa says, rolling his eyes.

Atsushi wants to kick him in the neck.

He decides to spend some time looking around the docked boat, for no reason other than the fact that he’s bored waiting and he doesn’t want to waste more precious seconds of his life talking to Akutagawa.

It’s unremarkable. The boat is called The Hellscreen, which is a scary name for something that just sails the seas. It’s a yacht, he’s been told, or rather very rudely informed by Akutagawa. Atsushi doesn’t know the first the about boats. He just knows this one is fancy, and they’re waiting for the captain to arrive, to hand off important information relevant to both the Port Mafia boss and Fukuzawa, information Atsushi and Akutagawa aren’t allowed to know the details of.

All they were instructed to do was wait for him, take the envelope, and in case they are suspicious of the captain in any way, they were to detain him until backup arrived. Simple enough, for Atsushi, anyway.

Atsushi sort of wants to dip without saying anything, but they were ordered not to kill, and even though he’s already made a promise not to, Atsushi isn’t sure he trusts him.

A half hour or so passes, and Atushsi finds nothing of interest. He only manages to meet back with Akutagawa because he lost track over which parts of the yacht he’s already explored.

Akutagawa is leaning on the railing of the yacht when Atsushi returns, the shade having extended that far, by now. Atsushi is thrown off, seeing Akutagawa look so weirdly casual. He’s sure he hasn’t relaxed a day in his life. But then, he notices the tension in his shoulders.

Atsushi's taken note of how his breaths have become labored and forced. That's not right, he knows that for sure. He seemed a little short of breath earlier when he was talking, but Atsushi didn’t pay much mind to that until now.

He's sort of thrown for a loop when Akutagawa suddenly leans over the railing to vomit into the water. It’s followed by a series of harsh sounding coughs, ones that somehow sound worse than before. Atsushi almost say something, but the coughing turns into choking and sputtering, and he throws up again. It sounds painful. He ducks his head into his arms with a pained groan, and Atsushi can’t help but notice that breaths still don’t sound any better.

"Are you - are you okay?" Atsushi asks. He’s not sure he should be asking.

"It's motion sickness,” Akutagawa bites, not lifting his head. Atsushi watches his shoulders shake. “Stop talking to me."

"You don’t have to stay on the boat,” Atsushi murmurs. It’s not that he feels bad or anything, but it’s just inconvenient for him to be here if it’s making him sick, he thinks. That’s all. “You can wait on the dock. I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Weretiger,” Akutagawa growls.

Atsushi takes a few steps close to him, thinking he might end up regretting it. Akutagawa is trembling, he realizes. He’s in pain. Something’s not right. “I’m just saying. It might be better anyway, maybe you can keep watch from the dock, or -”

“I told you,” Akutagawa starts, venom lacing his tone before he whips his head up and turns to face Atsushi a little too quickly, he’ll soon find out, “don’t -”

Atsushi could have seen it coming a mile away with how fast he moved his head, but he watches his eyes roll back and his knees bucking underneath him, and Atsushi isn’t a horrible person. Maybe Akutagawa would have let Atsushi fall on his face if their roles were reversed, but he can’t let that happen for him. He catches him, fully expecting Akutagawa to shout or attack as soon as he regains consciousness, which must be any second now.

But he’s silent, and completely still, even after the mental ten seconds Atsushi gives him to recover. Akutagawa’s labored breaths land against his chest as Atsushi lowers the both of them to the ground.

Shit. He's completely unconscious. He’s not showing any sign of waking up. Atsushi thought it was maybe just a head rush, but he really, actually passed out.

"Akutagawa?" Atsushi mumbles. It comes out like a squeak. He lays him down on the deck, sliding him down from his arms, so he's lying on his side. He's afraid to move him at all, worried Akutagawa might decapitate him without a moment's notice, but he receives no reaction, no attempt at trying to move, let alone get up and bark back at him.

Atsushi still has a hand on his shoulder, worried he might roll forward into his face, and he can feel his hot skin burning even through his coat. He’s absolutely ridiculous for wearing a coat like this when he so obviously has a fever, but his body shivers gently like he's cold. He should probably take it off of him, but he needs to reevaluate his situation.

“Please don't kill me," Atsushi groans to himself as he scoops an arm under Akutagawa's knees and the other under his neck, with little to no reaction from him other than a tiny, pathetic grunt. Atsushi is so tense that the effort hurts, but he thinks he has every reason to be. He's holding a ridiculously unpredictable mafia killing machine in his arms, after all.

He thinks for now, he'll take him inside the cockpit that they've been standing outside of, at least for some cover. Atsushi isn't sure if he really threw up because of motion sickness or something else, but either way, cover is more important when he's completely out like this. They have to keep their guard up.

He's incredibly lucky the door isn't locked, but the captain had told Dazai he left it that way in case they wanted to be inside. Akutagawa said waiting in there was too dangerous, and Atsushi has to at least agree on that. He manages to open the door with his tail and slides in, closing it behind him.

There's long, cushioned benches on either side of the cockpit, and Atsushi gently lays him down on the nearest one. Akutagawa's head lulls to the side once Atsushi steps back, and he thinks for a moment that he's awake already, but still - nothing.

His breathing really doesn't sound good. It's shallow, short, like it's painful to breathe any deeper. Atsushi thinks he probably has a serious cold, but he's not admitting it no matter the case.

He grits his teeth as he remembers he told himself he would take Akutagawa's coat off. It might be good in the end, too, if he can't use it to attack Atsushi when he wakes up, so he moves Akutagawa as gently as possible to sit up so he can undo the buttons on the coat and slide off the sleeves, one by one. He lays him back down, haphazardly folds the coat and lays it down on the other side of the bench.

Now what? Should he call Dazai? He still has the number of Akutagawa's assistant. He saved it in his phone, but he won't use it to call her. He'd need to find a pay phone. Unless, maybe he could find Akutagawa's cellphone.

He makes sure to check outside the door in case the captain has arrived, but he doesn't see any sign of him. So as he pulls the door back shut, decides he's going to look for Akutagawa's cellphone - at least, until he sees him open his eyes.

"Oh, hey," Atsushi starts nervously, not wanting to get too close to him, "you passed out on the deck, so…"

His explanation trails off as he watches Akutagawa's eyes grow wide and he scrambles to sit up. They're wider than Atsushi's has ever seen them. His hair is in disarray, sticking in all sorts of directions, some of it plastered to his forehead from the sweat his fever is causing.

Atsushi knows that look. He's felt it before. Waking up in an unfamiliar place is a horrifying feeling, he's woken up in full blown panic attacks because of that before. Even though Akutagawa was only out for a few minutes, he's scared.

Atsushi's heart feels heavy with guilt.

"We're in the cockpit on the yacht. You passed out like, five minutes ago," he stammers, but he's not sure that's enough. Akutagawa doesn't look relieved in the slightest, he looks terribly confused. He grasps at the fabric on his sleeve and almost looks like he's gotten to breathe when he realizes he's not wearing his coat.

"Where's - what did you - "

He breaks into a violent coughing fit, hunched over and coughing into his hand, somehow sounding worse than before. It's not so dry this time, either.

Atsushi catches a hint of the scent of blood, but he dismisses it. That couldn't be right, anyway.

"Where's…my coat," he somehow manages between coughs as it dies down, each one on the downtick sounding just as painful as the one before it. He looks exhausted. Atsushi can imagine that takes a lot out of him.

"You don't need that right now. You've got a fever," Atsushi murmurs.

Akutagawa sort of hangs his head as he lays a hand over his chest. He's more focused on something else right now, but Atsushi isn't sure what exactly that is. It might be his breathing. He's trying to slow it down, maybe, but his lungs don't seem to be cooperating. It almost seems like he can't really take a deep breath at all.

"Give it back," he says quietly, not lifting his head. He still sounds short of breath. He sounds defeated.

"I'll give it back, but don't put it on," Atsushi mumbles as he approaches the other end of the bench.

"Don't tell me what to do," Akutagawa huffs. A few coughs interrupt him, but thankfully, it doesn't seem to break him into a coughing fit like before.

Atsushi takes the coat from where he laid it down and hands it to him, expecting him to snatch it back, sure, but he rips it from Atsushi’s grip like he's taking something away from him that he can't live without. Atsushi steps back and gingerly shows his hands to show he doesn't mean any harm. Akutagawa brings it close to his chest like it’s a blanket he needs to fall asleep, curling his fists into it and lowering his head.

He looks miserable.

Atsushi sees the captain on the dock through the window and he squeaks, briefly telling Akutagawa to stay where he is before he disappears through the door.

“You’re with the Armed Detective Agency?” The captain asks. He’s a well dressed man in all white, carrying a black envelope. He looks a bit confused to see Atsushi exiting the cockpit, standing in front of the door. He hopes he doesn’t need to go inside.

“Yes - yes, sir. Atsushi Nakajima, nice to meet you,” Atsushi says, bowing his head politely. The captain bows back.

“There were supposed to be two of you. Can I please see your ID, detective?” The captain says. Atsushi bites his lip. Dazai did tell him to look for two people. Atsushi digs in his pockets for his wallet and finds it in the back left, scrambling to flip to the side that features his employee ID. The captain looks it over with a nod.

“I’m sorry, sir. I…my, uh…” Atsushi pauses. What does he even call Akutagawa? He’s not his friend. He’s not his co-worker. “My…my partner, he’s uh, injured. I told him he should sit down for a while. I didn’t mean to trespass or anything.”

“I see. It’s no trouble, as long as everything is left intact. Does your partner need medical attention?” The captain asks. That’s kind of him. Akutagawa definitely needs medical attention, but he has a feeling he shouldn’t get the captain involved with that.

“Oh, he’s…it’s not too serious. I’ll make sure a doctor sees him today,” Atsushi says, accidentally making a commitment. He would really just like to get this envelope and be on his way.

“If it’s not too serious, I’d like to meet your partner as well. Just to cover my bases and verify your identities,” The captain says sternly. He seems a bit suspicious.

Atsushi’s heart drops. He doesn’t want to make Akutagawa walk out here, especially to meet someone when he looks the way that he does - but if he says no, the captain may refuse to give him the envelope, and then Atsushi will have a whole new kind of problem.

“Oh…yeah, of course. I’ll, uh, be right back,” Atsushi murmurs, taking the door handle to let himself in and close it behind him without any room for the captain to follow him. It is his own boat after all, he has every right to do so.

Akutagawa is still on the bench, except he’s sitting now, the coat laying over his lap, both hands twisted in the fabric. He’s holding onto it for dear life, almost. Atsushi didn’t realize the coat was that important to him, although, if it’s his ability, it makes sense.

Akutagawa very slowly turns his head to look at Atsushi, eyes focused and pointed but heavy with exhaustion.

“The captain says he needs to meet you too. Before he gives us the envelope,” Atsushi murmurs quietly. Akutagawa is already attempting to get up. He’s rather unsteady on his feet, and had to use the bench as leverage to stand up, but Atsushi knows he’ll refuse any offers for help. He manages to slide his arms into he sleeves of the coat without much issue.

His hair still sort of looks like a mess. He approaches the door and Atsushi resists the very strong urge to at least rustle his bangs up so the sweat isn’t so obvious, but not for long. He reaches forward and does it before he can convince himself not to, and Akutagawa flinches backward, eyes wide.

“W - “

“Let’s go,” Atsushi says, opening the door and walking in front of him.

Akutagawa stands in front of the door, now, politely bowing his head, much more discreetly than Atsushi had.

“Good to meet you. And you are?” The captain asks.

“I have no reason to give you my name,” Akutagawa says coldly. Atsushi stiffens. Now is really not the time to be rude.

“I know you’re with the Port Mafia. I have no issue with that. I’m simply asking your name to verify your identity,” The captain says.

Akutagawa averts his gaze.

“Ryuunosuke Akutagawa,” he answers. Atsushi realizes he’s never heard his first name before. It’s nice.

“Alright. And I have two questions for each of you to continue my confirmation. Think of them as…security questions, when you’ve forgotten your password,” The captain says. “For you, detective. What is your mother’s first name?”

Atsushi feels sick.

What kind of question is that?

He never knew his parents. The headmaster told him thinks about what they did to Atsushi, but he doesn’t remember them. He has no idea what they look like, let alone either of their names. What is he supposed to say?

“I don’t know,” Atsushi murmurs, his eyes drifting down to the deck flooring. “I never knew her name.”

“Alright, good,” The captain says, evidently satisfied with the answer, and Atsushi realizes that was the correct one. It’s a trick question. Anyone trying to impersonate him might have known the answer, but Atsushi didn’t. “And you, Akutagawa. Where did you live when you were twelve years old?”

Akutagawa seems to have a similar reaction to his question. His eyes are wide, at least, as wide as they can be in his state. But his expression very quickly shifts into anger.

“I’m not answering that,” he snaps. He almost staggers sideways, clearly still rather unsteady on his feet.

“I need you to,” The captain says. “I already know the answer. I’m just asking you to confirm it. Only you would know the answer to this.”

Akutagawa opens his mouth to shout something obscene, he’s sure that’s his plan, but Atsushi is able to distract him by lifting his hands up and pressing them against his ears. He’s not sure why, but he thinks Akutagawa simply doesn’t want Atsushi to hear the answer. And he can respect that. They’re not friends, after all.

Akutagawa stares at him for a moment, not catching on right away to what he’s doing, but he sees the anger fade just a bit after a second, and Atsushi turns his head away to allow Akutagawa to answer, so that he won’t hear it.

But he hears it anyway.

That damn Tiger’s hearing.

Suribachi City.

Atsushi’s shoulders drop a little bit. The slums?

Akutagawa is from the slums?

Atsushi very slowly lowers his hands and just barely catches the end of the captain saying very good before thanking the two of them, He thinks this is a strange way to verify someone’s idenity, but maybe the captain has an ability and this is relevant. Maybe Dazai set this up. He’s not sure, but either way, he doesn’t like it.

The captain hands Atsushi the envelope.

“Thank you to you both. I have some business to attend to at the Marina Club. Feel free to stay here if you’d like, and please make sure your injury is tended to,” the captain says, directing that last part to Akutagawa. Akutagawa makes a very displeased, confused expression as Atsushi bows the captain away, and soon enough, he’s gone.

Akutagawa is quiet for a few moments, and Atsushi is at a loss of what to say. Normally, he thinks Akutagawa would have just been on his way without a word to Atsushi, but he doesn’t move.

At least, until he bolts toward the railing choke up a mouthful of vomit into the water again. Atsushi yelps at how quickly he managed that, and he realizes Akutagawa was likely just waiting for the captain to leave the boardwalk.

Akutagawa grips onto the railing, tight, but one hand comes up to lay against his chest as he starts to cough again. It’s only a few times, but they’re wet and deep, and they make him vomit again, nearly missing to get over the railing. His knees collapse in on themselves and he leans heavily against the railing once he’s on the ground, keeping that hand on his chest.

"You need to go to a hospital or something," Atsushi mumbles, carefully approaching him.

"Nice try," Akutagawa chokes out, not daring to lift his head. He tries to use the railing to stand himself back up, but his legs are shaking so much that they’re completely unreliable to stand on, and he comes back down to the deck. "You…really must take me for some kind of fool."

"What the hell do you mean, nice try?" Atsushi scoffs. He can’t stand this guy. What’s wrong with thinking he needs help when he looks so miserable?

"I'll get arrested if I'm admitted to a public hospital," Akutagawa growls, his faze only then turning up to glare at Atsushi, eyes like those of a hungry wolf. "You've seen my wanted posters, haven't you, Weretiger?"

Atsushi's shoulders sink. "I didn't think about that, actually."

"Just go," Akutagawa huffs, leaning his head to the side.

"What? I'm not leaving you here,” Atsushi grumbles. “You can't even stand up."

"Why does it matter to you?" Akutagawa asks quietly.

Why does it matter? He could simply head home right now, if he really wanted to. It shouldn’t make a difference to him how Akutagawa gets home, if he sees a doctor. He’s not his babysitter.

"Just cause I hate your guts doesn't mean I want you to suffer," Atsushi mumbles quietly.

"I was in a coma for a week because of you," Akutagawa huffs with a shaky breath. "Don't give me that."

"That was different, you kidnapped me and Kyoka cause you're a psychopath," Atsushi snaps before really taking in what Akutagawa said.

A coma?

"So I've been told,” Akutagawa breathes out, letting his eyes fall shut as he lets his head lull to the side just a bit. 

He's really starting to look out of it, now. He almost had Atsushi fooled for a moment in an encounter with the captain. He seemed composed and put together, but now he seems to have literally started to fall apart. He can't even stand up, at least not in this moment.

The way he's breathing is deeply concerning. It somehow sounds worse. He takes note of how he tries to take a deep breath, but all it brings him is a round of painful sounding coughs. Atsushi doesn't know what to do.

Akutagawa seems to have lost the ability to care about Atsushi being in his vicinity, he doesn't even remotely try to protest his presence.

"I'm gonna call Dazai real quick. To let him know we got the envelope," Atsushi says. Akutagawa's shoulders stiffen at the mention of Dazai, but not for long. He quickly sinks back.

Atsushi wanders to the bow of the ship before he makes the phone call, out of earshot from Akutagawa.

"Dazai," Atsushi mumbles as soon as the ringing stops.

"What's the matter? Is everything okay?" he asks. He sounds more intrigued than concerned, but he seems to recognize that something isn't right.

"Well - we…we got the envelope. Everything went well, but, Akutagawa…" Atsushi murmurs, staring at the envelope in his hands. What does he even say? What would Dazai do about Akutagawa's condition? They can't take him to a hospital. "I don't know, something's wrong. I think he's really sick, Dazai."

He hears Dazai sigh over the phone. "How sick? Is he unconscious?"

"No, he's…he passed out, but he's awake now. It just seems like…" Atsushi murmurs, and an idea comes to mind. "Do you think…could Yosano help him? I can't take him to a public hospital, he'd get arrested, so maybe -"

"Atsushi, she won't use her ability for the Port Mafia. I can tell you that now," Dazai tells him sternly. Atsushi shrinks. He can't force Yosano to help anyone, sure, but it feels wrong to just leave him here. He can't let it go, for some reason.

"But he needs help," Atsushi mumbles. "I can't just…I can't just leave him. Something's really wrong, Dazai."

"I'll let Chuuya know it's done and he will be there soon. He can take him to the extraction point," Dazai tells him. "He's not your responsibility, Atsushi."

"I'm gonna stay here until Chuuya gets here, then," Atsushi mumbles. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't want someone to leave me while I'm that sick. I can't do it."

Dazai is quiet for a moment, and if it's not already impossible to tell what he's thinking in person, it's certainly impossible right now. He can't even begin to guess.

"Alright, I'll see you when you get back, Atsushi," he says.

"Yeah, see you," Atsushi says quietly. Dazai hangs up.

Atsushi is sure he's better off waiting over here, but he feels like he needs to be closer. He's starting to get this irrational fear that Akutagawa will suddenly stop breathing.

He wanders back over towards him. Akutagawa is leaning with his back against the railing and his knees pulled into his chest, eyes looking nowhere in particular. It's obvious he doesn't feel good, but Atsushi feels like every time he turns around, Akutagawa looks about fifty percent worse than before. His eyes are unfocused and his cheeks are red to match his eyes.

"Chuuya will be here soon to meet you," Atsushi tells him. "Maybe we can wait inside, or -"

“You heard me,” Akutagawa murmurs.

Atsushi freezes for a second before he tilts his head. What is he talking about? Is it something about not telling him what to do? Atsushi didn't really order him around, so he's not sure what he means.

Maybe his fever is starting to talk.

“Heard what?” Atsushi asks. He sits down a few feet away from him, his legs crossed.

“The answer,” Akuatagwa murmurs.

Oh. His answer to the captain's question.

Atsushi isn't sure what to say, because he can't tell how Akutagawa feels about it. It seems like he's upset, at least a little bit, but he thinks he sounds more defeated than anything else, like it's a secret he never intended on sharing with anyone, let alone Atsushi. Atsushi could apologize, make it awkward, but he doesn't think Akutagawa would react well to any of that.

“I knew some kids at the orphanage from Suribachi City," Atsushi says instead, lowering his head as he starts to study the woodwork on the deck. He remembers one in particular, a girl who was practically emaciated, covered in scars and healing wounds, missing a few fingers from wild dogs. The others weren't much different from her, either. It's hard to imagine Akutagawa in that kind of state, especially at ten years old.

Akutagawa ducks his head down. He's shivering again, but Atsushi can't tell if it's chills from whatever illness is plaguing him, or he's shaking.

“I knew someone who escaped from an orphanage,” Akutagawa manages, the sound muffled. “I saw a lot of kids like that.”

Atsushi bites his lip. He’s known people to do the same. He’s wanted to try it himself, but he remembers one instance of a kid who froze to death outside trying to escape. She was used as an example. You're safest in here. He shudders at the thought.

“I was…I was the only ability user I knew,” Akutagawa says quietly, having to stop once to take some breaths. “He told me…he knew an ability user at the orphanage. Or, he thought him to be one. I always thought…he must have imagined it…"

Atsushi isn't sure where he's going with that, but he's too afraid to ask. Akutagawa lifts his head, just to cough into his hand. It's only two or three times, but they still sound so painful. Atsushi thinks he sees spots of blood in his hand, but he can't be sure from where he's sitting. He's probably just seeing things.

“You should wait inside the cockpit or something,” Atsushi murmurs nervously. “Didn’t you say the ocean air is bad for you?”

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything, he just lowers his hand and makes eye contact with Atsushi. He’s not all there. Atsushi can’t be sure, but he thinks the fever he has must be really high, that look in his eyes just isn’t right. It’s not Akutagawa.

A chill runs up Atsushi’s spine when he hears a huff come from behind him.

It's almost as if Chuuya appears on the deck instantaneously. Atsushi didn't see him coming. He heard footsteps somewhere, looking back on it, but didn’t think they were on the deck already.

"What're you still doin' here, Weretiger?" Chuuya growls. He sounds mean, but Atsushi doesn't think he means to shoo him away. He almost sounds curious, tilting his head down at Atsushi, a hand on his hip as Atsushi turns his head to face him.

“I - uh,” Atsushi mumbles, standing up and patting down his pants, for some reason feeling the need to look presentable in front of him. Chuuya is starting to look impatient, and his head starts to turn away from him. “I just - well, Dazai said…”

Chuuya suddenly rushes past him in Akutagawa’s direction, and Atsushi realizes he’s completely missed Akutagawa attempting to stand up, and now, it looks like he’s unconscious in Chuuya’s arms.

Chuuya almost effortlessly shifts Akutagawa so that he can easily carry him like Atsushi did earlier. Except, he keeps him lowered on the ground for a moment to lay the back of his hand against his cheek.

“How long’s he been breathin’ like this?” Chuuya asks, running a hand through Akutagawa’s hair. He bites his lip.

“Um…pretty much the whole time, I think,” Atsushi says. His eyes trail down to Akutagawa’s hand, the same one he coughed into earlier, and his stomach drops when he realizes those are spots of blood in his hand.

Chuuya nods and scoops Akutagawa back up into his arms, but Atsushi stays where he is, eyes wide and hoping for some sort of explanation. Chuuya looks like he’s only seconds away from leaving the deck, but Atsushi stops him.

“Wait - ”

Chuuya turns, that same scowl on his face. Atsushi’s eys drift down to Akutagawa, who’s still breathing heavy and shallow. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain, even half-conscious like this, his face all twisted up. “What?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Atsushi asks. He has a feeling Chuuya is sort of familiar with Akutagawa’s weak state right now, based on his reaction.

“It’s probably pneumonia again,” Chuuya answers quietly.

“Again?” Atsushi clarifies. His heart sinks. He’s had pneumonia once before while at the orphanage. It was so miserable that he’s forgotten much of it.

"He always gets hit real hard like this. Doesn’t take good care of his health," Chuuya mumbles, his eyes on Akutagawa’s pale face for a moment before they dart back up at Atsushi, and the scowl has melted away. "Thanks for stayin' with him."

"Yeah…yeah, no problem."

Atsushi can’t take his eyes off of Akutagawa, even as Chuuya leaves.

…

"You're very distracted today, Atsushi. I need you to focus, we have a lot of work to do."

Kunikida’s stern voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

He sounds disappointed. Atsushi doesn’t want to disappoint him. He’s tired. He didn’t sleep well last night and for some reason he’s having a lot more trouble focusing on his work than what’s normal for him. His laptop is just staring him in the face.

“Right, right. I’m sorry,” Atsushi nods, his hands moving to the keyboard, even unsure what to do then. Mabe he should go down to the cafe or something and grab a coffee, but he knows he’s not just tired. The only thing swirling around his brain today is the image of Akutagawa unconscious in Chuuya’s arms.

He opens the web browser on his computer and takes one of the reports from the center of the tables, opening it to the first page. He can feel Dazai’s eyes on him.

Dazai didn’t say anything about Akutagawa yesterday when Atsushi returned to the agency, and while he didn’t expect him to - he’s probably certain Chuuya came to get him and that he’s getting treated now - Atsushi found it strange. It feels like there’s a rock in the pit of his stomach.

Once Kunikida wanders over to Junichiro’s desk to help him with something, Dazai speaks.

"What's on your mind, hm?" Dazai asks, his elbows propped up on the table and his head in his hands. "Akutagawa?"

Atsushi's shoulders shrink. He was sort of expecting this question, but he’s not sure how to answer it. "I just…I dunno. He was really sick, Dazai. Chuuya said he might have pneumonia.”

"I know. That's not uncommon for him, Atsushi. He doesn't have a good immune system," Dazai says with a little sigh. Atsushi isn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or not. He kind of figured that last part, Akutgawa doesn’t seem like a super healthy person, but even so, this weird feeling is still settled in his stomach.

"Yeah?" he says, turning his head.

"Mhm. And they have good doctors in the Port Mafia too, you know. He'll be fine," Dazai says with a little nod.

Atsushi feels a little better, knowing that.

He doesn’t need to worry. Akutagawa has plenty of people looking after him, he’s sure about that.

"If you say so."

…

Two weeks later, Atsushi sees Akutagawa again.

The sun has just set, and Atsushi is outside the nearest train station following a lead on a case on Kunikida’s behalf when he sees him leaned against the wall outside of the station on the phone. He’s not wearing his usual coat, and he thinks he looks a little suspicious wearing tinted glasses at night, but it’s definitely him.

Akutagawa’s eyes dart over, like he knows someone is watching him. A scowl appears on his face.

He really looks ghastly, a word Atsushi can only imagine Akutagawa saying. His cheeks are sunken and his eyes look dull, like the life has been sucked out of them. Exhausted doesn’t sound like it’s good enough to describe him, but he certainly looks better than he did.

Atsushi was planning on just walking off, but Akutagawa is still glaring at him.

So Atsushi walks over, just as Akutagawa hangs up the phone. He’s still holding it, looking like he’ll snap it apart at any moment.

"Akutagawa?" Atsushi starts awkwardly.

"What do you want from me," Akutagawa grumbles. "Weretiger."

“First of all, we’re in public. I’m not stalking you,” Atsushi groans, rolling his eyes. He pauses for a moment to listen to Akutagawa’s breathing, and he’s relieved that it sounds a little more normal - but there’s a faint rattle when he breathes in that concerns him. "You still don't look great.”

"I was released from our hospital two days ago," he mumbles, turning his head to the side.

Two days ago?

Does that mean he was in the hospital all this time? Two weeks? He already figured he had pneumonia because of what Chuuya said, but being hospitalized for two weeks is such a long time.

Atsushi doesn't know what to say. He just stares, his brow furrowed.

"I don't heal as well as normal people. And certainly not as well as you," he grumbles, his eyes briefly turning back to Atsushi. "I'll be fine. Wipe that pathetic look off of your face, it's unbecoming."

"Oh - sorry," he says with a nod of his head. "I…"

"Don't say anything else," Akutagawa huffs.

Atsushi pouts. “Can I at least ask what it was?”

“Pneumonia,” Akutagawa says simply, like it was an obvious answer.

“Have you had it before?”

“Yes,” Akutagawa nods with a small sigh. He’s surprised he’s being so cooperative with his answers. Maybe he really is just more of a jerk when he’s not feeling well.

“I had it once too. It was miserable,” Atsushi murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. An apology won’t change anything,” Akutagawa says with a slightly more annoyed sigh this time, stepping forward so he’s no longer leaning on the wall. 

“I guess not, but…” Atsushi says. He shrugs his shoulders, expecting Akutagawa to just walk off and leave, but he doesn’t. It almost seems like he wants to say something, but he’s not sure if he should.

“I’m…I’m sorry that you felt obligated to look after me,” Akutagawa mumbles.

Now that is definitely the last thing he expected Akutagawa to say. He doesn’t like his head or even attempt to make eye contact, but it sounds sincere, he thinks. It sounds like they’re his own words, not fed to him by someone else.

“Oh,” Atsushi blinks. “Um…well, I didn’t…I dunno. It wasn’t a big deal.”

His cheeks feel warm, for some reason. He’s embarrassed. He doesn’t really know what to say or think, he’s just really surprised to hear Akutagawa say anything about it at all. He wonders if he feels guilty.

“If you insist,” Akutagawa answers simply. Now it seems like he’s ready to walk off. “Well, Weretiger, I would really prefer if you would get out of my sight before my company arrives, I -”

“Wait,” Atsushi says, finally having managed to gather his scrambled thoughts together. Akutagawa glares at him again. “I just…I don’t mind helping you if you need it. I’m not a heartless monster.”

“No, you’re not,” Akutagawa agrees, as if it’s the most obvious thing he’s ever heard.

Atsushi’s a bit taken aback by that, too.

“You think?” he says, feeling his ears start to heat up, too. Why, even?

“Weretiger,” Akutagawa sighs. Atsushi has lost track over how many time he’s heard that sound, “on with it. Or leave.”

“I just - I’ve got your back, I guess. Maybe you don’t have mine, but…I won’t leave you stranded if you need help,” Atsushi says. He realizes how corny that sounds, he can hear Dazai’s hysterical laughter echoing in the back of his brain, but Akutagawa doesn’t seem to think so, at least not in the moment. He blinks at him.

His cheeks sort of look pink. Atsushi hopes he doesn’t still have a fever.

“I didn’t realize you were so cheesy, Weretiger,” Akutagawa says as he drops his gaze before he huffs out a breath. Atsushi really thought he was going to say something nice back, but he really is a jerk. Bastard.

Atsushi groans. “Well, too bad, cause I am! And you’re gonna have to deal with it!”

Akutagawa opens his mouth to respond, but his hand covers his mouth to cough a few times, and Atsushi is relieved they don’t sound as bad as they did - they’re certainly hoarse, though.

“Are you -”

Akutagawa nods. “I’m okay.”

“Akutagawa…?”

They both turn their heads at the same time to find a pair has approached them, seemingly without any warning. It’s Akutagawa’s assistant - Atsushi thinks her name is Higuchi, or something like that - and a girl with long, dark hair that he doesn’t recognize at first, but quickly remembers is Akutagawa’s sister. Gin. Akutagawa having a sister is still an incredibly foreign concept to him. They’re both wearing casual clothing, evidently not working.

They both look very confused to see Akutagawa talking to him. Atsushi sees them both reach for something, and realizes almost too late that they’re reaching for weapons.

“Wait, I -”

“He was told to meet me here. Miscommunication,” Akutagawa says simply. Interesting tactic, he makes it sounds like it’s something the two of them already know about. Higuchi nods, accepting the answer, but Gin only looks suspicious. “Finish your business elsewhere, Weretiger.”

“Right, uh…yep, I’ll do that,” Atsushi says. Does he say goodbye? See ya? No, that’s weird, especially in front of his coworker and his sister. They both view him as the enemy.

What is he talking about? He is the enemy. They are enemies. He shakes his head as he walks off, even more confused than he was before this interaction began.

“Is your fever back? Your face looks red,” his sister says, and Atsushi briefly turns his head to see her laying a hand against his cheek, to which he quickly turns away. “You don’t feel warm.”

“Maybe we should take you back to the clinic, just to be safe,” Higuchi starts.

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” Akutagawa says with a heavy sigh, and the three of them walk in the opposite direction, eventually, out of his sight.

Atsushi shakes his head. Why is he still standing there?

And why are his ears still hot?

[shiroi---kumo]

📚🎼 + what if they got separated? how would they fare?

and how will you face them when you find them, given all that blood on your hands?

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ He can't say he likes this stranger's attitude or the questions that are getting snapped his way. So he's doing the first thing that comes to mind and that is to take this poor faceless fool and pin them against the wall by the throat.

Who the fuck did they think they were? Coming at him wrapped in darkness like they know a damn thing about him or them or everything they've lost. Like they understand what it is to live in this hell after losing literally everything.

His free hand is slipping down beneath dark robes to retrieve the blade of crystal that lives at his right thigh and he wastes no time pressing towards the stranger's neck.

"Watch your tongue when you speak to me before I cut it out." He growls at them from beneath his cowl, orange silence striking against his mask in plumes only to be stripped from his breath and next make it into the air at all. That is his bond they are speaking of. That is may as well be his sister. That is his family and he will cut out the tongue of any fool who dares to misuse their names -

But there is no fear. No apologies.

Only laughter.

Laughter echoes into the space all around them. The lights going out and suddenly the world is growing dark. Everything is getting unbearably dark and windy. The winds are picking up to blow hard and fast against both figures causing dark hoods to fall as the fabric whips into the gales and that was when he saw it.

The figure he has pinned to a tree, looking at him with a wild grin and equally wild orange eyes. Citrine hair dancing a crazed dance in the gale's flow.

"You know as well as I do they could never survive without you, Sitriini. You damned them. You damned them both and even if they were to survive then why would they ever want you? Not with the monster you've become."

And it's hard to argue when you're looking at yourself, but he couldn't say this warped reflection of his was exactly wrong. He damned them. He damned them both when he threw Aqua the knife - right along with his ring and his bind. He knew they couldn't survive in this place.

They barely had been pulling it off for years and Sielu wasn't a fighter. He could if push came to shove. If some fool put their hands on Sydän then all bets were off but would he be able to recover after losing him? Surely he thought that he - that he faded.

They all thought he was going to fade then and somehow he managed to find himself saved for a steep price he never agreed to pay. The hunters that found him bandaged him up and set him straight but they took everything of value on him while he was unconscious. They left nothing to his name...

He had to earn it all back through blood sweat and tears. He was down for months, learning to function as his arm healed from the break caused by the Soil Kissa that had attacked them. He had to earn back everything, but he had the blood of a knight in his veins just as well as a musician. His body just needed to learn the ways of his father over his mother.

He just had to train. He just had to learn. He wouldn't fade. He wouldn't fade until he found them and ... the boy. If they hadn't found Pilvi yet - he certainly would. He wouldn't stop until

"You Pathetic wretch. You've killed at least hundred times at this point all in the name of your precious survival. I know you're exhausted. I know you're tired. Why don't you just give up? Fade away Sitriini Sinfonia - everyone you ever loved already thinks you did. No one misses you and no one ever will."

There's a scream as the phantom starts laughing again and his hand jerks back to drive forward straight into -

UGAHHHH

He's setting up with eyes wide as he pants out ragged breaths in bed - where was - oh yeah - the Inn. He managed to get the money to buy a room at the Inn. He just - he just needs a minute to breathe.

[ducknotinarow]

Bailey adored his husband so much. The way they smiled whenever they treated him to a laugh. The way Richard's eyes sparkled brighter than all known stars in the sky. The softness to their feathers, the tender way they hold him close. Bailey would do everything and anything to remind him how much he loved him. He'd walk a thousand miles, he'd loose every dumb, he'd eat the sun itself if need be! He'd do anything for his husband, if it made them happy, if it reminded him how loved he truly was.

Ah, but how would Bailey ever tell him such woes of the heart; such desire.

...

He grabs their face, with no warning, and licks their cheek. The perfect way to pronounce your undying love for someone!

| Muse interaction

It had been just a bit busy this morning in the café with the cold weather blowing into the city it seemed to have everyone already buzzing for those 'fall vibes' feelings to get into the full spirit of the season. If Richard was being blunt, and he was often just that. It was those annoying bunch of costumers who the second heard it was consider to be the autumn season decided to make it their whole ass personality. Maybe a good thing the eagle doesn't know or use social media or he would be flooded with the sight of pumpkin spice flavored everything, the posts about fall fashionista turn around or the over abundance of the atheistic post for fall. Soon to die out fast for the holiday craze but still. The moment any coffee shop unleashed the fall flavors those bandwagoers went nuts and flooded the place in a heart beat. So it did keep the eagle on his feet and busy for a good few hours straight. The perfect way to spend the day.

Richard wouldn't be Richard if he didn't utterly life for those busy periods of work where moving around from the kitchen area for even a few seconds didn't spell out utter doom to the whole place. Order after order the eagle had drinks whip up and ready to be sent off. A nice steady rhythm formed. The only thing that was going to throw it off was the second he glance at the ring of the bell of the front door showing Bailey had just made his way inside the café. The ever so pink and glittery rooster always stood out in the most packed of rooms. A slight little smirk graced Richard's beak, as tail feathers fanned  a little. Soon he was sending out more than drink out at time. Was it because his husband just so happened to enter the building now that had him truly going into full gear on his job? Well yes a little but only because the sooner he got drinks out the sooner his husband could shower him with praise for just how amazing he was. But Bailey wasn't the reason he was getting two drinks out in the time it took others to make one, no he was going slow on purpose for a bit there.

Hey call him petty, because he is, but sometimes even if your job is providing a service didn't mean people were entitled to you full effort. Sometimes you moved just a little slower to sort of get back at the snappy attitudes people decided to give you. Something you let just  a bit extra time go into putting together a drink, to make them stand a wait a bit longer because apparently simple manners were forgotten or you were Richard a true coffee snob through and through. And decided all these phone loving idiots waste time getting the best light for their fall drink, the right angles even so they could post their pictures online for the uh was that what clout was or was that a trend? hmm he may need to ask Bailey about that again. Either way when the second person he witnessed spend those first few precious seconds of getting their drink busy them self with getting  picture of the drink instead? Well he just about snapped, that is when you are meant to drink your coffee! The second the coffee and milk was in that cup you should be burning your tongue with the peak of its flavor! if the coffee was meant to be cold when you drank it then it would have been on ice! it ruffled his feathers every time and this was why the start of any season had him on edge he couldn't stand these dumb tread followers. They weren't true coffee lovers, a coffee lover! But he would take their money, begrudgingly. If they wanted it cold then fine they could wait! what   mockery to Richard's craft.

Whatever a few more cups handed over to Val, and Richard was able to make way to to counter, elbow resting to the counter top as he slightly leaned over it to smile towards his husband. A slightly movement of his hand to brush back thick locks of ebony black hair as he fixed the rooster with a pleasant stare. The mere sight of his husband made him forget about the annoying pests. All well ignoring that Bailey also took hours getting the best photos only to drink a cold drink, that was different. It was cute when bailey did it after all.

" ¡Buenas! Pollito" Richard greeted with before moving to more comfortably lead over the counter top. Waiting for his husband to greet him lovingly "You got here right on time we've been awful busy but you know how I strive in those bursts of foot traffic." Smiling fishing for Bailey to compliment him, reward him for how fucking amazing he was of course. "Hard to say what draws them in more though, my product? It should be I had worked so hard on this years fall flavors after all all those hours into what would be the best picks for the season always pay off and keep us ahead of those pathetic other company." Leaning in a bit "Like Starducks" he said in a hushed tone as if he were saying an offense word well to Richard it was. "Or the rumors of the God teir looks.of the best batista that doubles as owner" Lifting up the section of coutner that double as a door out from behind as he went to join Bailey on the other side of tje ckunter now, arms moving to hold around the Rooster now as he was sure he be getting kisses and hugs soo. "and your husband. Luckest Rooster in the world for the honor." If it wasn't clear now he was clearly fishing for that affection and stream of complete Bailey was normally always ready to pour and shower all over Richard.

So when they took hold of his face he was expecting the pecking of kisses to be peperped to his face. Touches of pink to color his brown feathers to follow not thar he ever minded, but instead he felt something wet his his cheek. He could feel it drag across feathers clearly putting them out of place as Richard stood dazed and confused for a moment.

"Did you just lick me?" Was his only response pulling back a bit as he went to feel over his cheek feathers still damped but answered his question. Slightly recoiling as he went to reach for a napkin to wipe his hands off with it, and his cheek after. "You know if I wanted to be licked I'd slather up glitter on myself again." He slightly mumbles under his breath as he worked on getting his feathers back in place, lifting the the napkin holder to use the refecltion as a mirror. Soon smiling at himself assuming he understood the reasoning for the action

"Oh i see now. guess I can't blame you for that now that I think about it." Turning to Bailey now. "My poor pollito, all these eyes on your gorgeous man must filled you with jealously so you just had to mark claim on me infront of everyone." He said trying ti sound sympathic but seemed to be enjoying it more. Yeah it didn't take much for the ego to rev up once more. Reaching over to pats the rooster onto of his head, ruffling thier hair in an act of affection but mostly retaltion since he knew it would mess up thier hair. Hey that messed up his feathers it was fair. "Oh my poor husband so pleaged with worry of others eyes all over me." Turning away now as he went to get back behind the counter "worry not well all get a blessing of looking at me you get the honor of having me." He was slightly teasing but with Richard it was possible he was also being serious. "I mean after all I do would need to always put a claim on all this is I was you. How you manage to not kill over in a jealous fueled rage? That a ture test of charater in of its self." He says setting the counter back as his feathers lift a little. "See I'd be upset that they all only come for my good looks but let's be honest can you blame any one?" This might keep going for a while the eagle was clearly in a mood. "I mean when one sees perfection they must admire it for what it is. Don't worry though I'd never let anyone else come near my nope thar honor is for you only. And your privilege of course. After all you get to see the full results of all the effort I place into my looks." Chesr puffed yo with pride as he just seem asked to keep stroking his own ego.

[flownintothesun]

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───    [ 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 ]: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. (𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐲 @ 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞)

                ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── a closed one-shot for @batteredoptimist.

       𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄, the way the sound just stops as Westley takes the stairs two at a time — quiet, all but for the sake of his footfalls, trying frantically to reach the one he loves in time. He’s out of breath and his heart’s ticking away like a war drum, rolling one beat into the next as he passes a sculpture of Jesus in his crown of thorns at the top of the stairwell. And, all right, Westley’s never subscribed to religion — but he has read the Bible out of sheer morbid curiosity, and he’s pretty sure this guy was all about love and camaraderie  — not the shit that Edward May has justified in His name. Jesus would be right to cry in a place like this  — a place where a soul might go to die.

       There’s only horror that fills Westley’s heart through each room he checks  —  a room designed for private prayer with two mats below the alter, light still beaming in through the window as though the sun hasn’t yet lost its memo to shine on a day like today. There’s even a church pew with Bibles resting in the corner of the neatly polished wood. But James isn’t there. Nor is he in the dingy, lightless room with the small bed under which is a system of restraints, like this is an asylum, and not a home. All for the sake of control. And Muriel’s got it covered downstairs  — soon, Westley won’t be the only one with murder on his hands. He only hopes he’s in time to absolve Edward’s soul from the murder he’d intended to commit to that precious lad with the sunlight caught in the auburn of his hair, and the color blue forever trapped in his eyes.

      The door before last in the hall doesn’t yield, though Westley can hear the steady plonk of water as it drips onto its brethren in what sounds like a full tub. There’s no time to pick the lock, there’s no time to waste at all as he hauls his own smallish body back as far as it can go, and shoulders into the door once and then twice before it starts to give. He repeats the process again and again, wasting precious seconds before the door budges and at last gives way.

      The tub is exceptionally large, enough to fit even Muriel’s long legs, long enough for a lad of James’s size to submerge completely beneath its depths, leaving nothing but desperate, frantic splashes of water upon the tile that have since ceased. James is still, his hair floating like strands of kelp in the ocean around him, his face deathly pale as Westley hauls him up out of the water. There’s no gasping for air — there’s no rise and fall of his loved one’s chest. No sign that that beautiful heart is still beating. He lays his precious lad on the tile gently as he can, tearing at the straight jacket that had prevented him from moving as Edward May had done his worst.

       Remembering what Muriel had taught him, he begins chest compressions — too frantic at first, but finding his groove bitterly to Queen’s ‘Another One Bites the Dust’. Not today. Not to-fucking-day. He pumps and pumps, tries to get the water out of his lungs through those parted lips that he remembers kissing so dearly. I should have told you, I should have told you.

     When chest compressions fail he begins trying to resuscitate by providing air. Nothing. “James, it’s your Westley. I need you to wake up now.” Hot tears begin to track down his cheeks. He’s too late, he’s too late. But he won’t give up. “Baby, c’mon...” he whines, “Open your eyes, fight for it, breathe...”

       Water trickles from cold lips before coming in a blast, all over Westley’s clothes, but fuck if he cares. He’s quick to haul James up, patting on his back. When he does so, for a moment he can see the wild panic in those blue eyes as they open. James will never be the same again. But he’s alive. Holy fucking hell, he’s alive.

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 66

*Warning - Adult Content*

Damien Clarke hadn't planned on falling asleep after Craig left.

After crying until he had no more salt water to run down his cheeks, Damien's tired eyes hadn't taken long to close.

It was as if his body knew that a moment of rest was exactly what it needed.

His unexpected nap could've gone on longer if it hadn't been for the ringing of his phone which suddenly woke him from his sleep.

Damien almost missed the call, as he felt unable to move, the muscles of his body aching and refusing to cooperate.

Sleeping on the sofa fully clothed had surely had something to do with it.

After much effort and difficulty, Damien managed to take a sitting position on the sofa.

He reached out to collect his phone lying on the small glass table, barely paying attention to Dimitris name on the screen.

"Hey," Damien said, his voice drawling and sleepy.

Realizing that his voice was slightly hoarse, Damien cleared his throat.

He was relieved to see that Dimitri was the one who had disturbed him in his sleep, since Damien wasn't sure he would have answered the call if it had been someone else on the other line.

Now that he was awake, the fresh memories of the last few hours resurfaced and talking on the phone wasn't at all part of his plans once awake.

Damien had a lot of it on his plate and he was still wrapped up in the recent events that had probably turned his life upside down.

The nap he had taken had given his mind some rest, though he feared that he might have spent precious time that he couldn't afford to waste.

For the sake of his sanity, Damien had to find a solution that would help him obtain Craig's forgiveness and then work his way to a possible reconciliation.

Dimitri's call was timely as Damien hoped his friend could be the voice of reason he so badly needed and advise him on what to do about his breakup with Craig.

Damien was certain that Dimitri would be able to guide him.

"Looks like we're playing a game of cat and mouse, you and I, Pretty Boy," Dimitri said amusedly.

Damien gently stretched his muscles and smiled weakly.

He rubbed his eye and held back a yawn.

"Cat and mouse? Damien repeated, trying to sound just as amused as Dimitri but probably failing.

"We keep missing each other's calls," Dimitri explained in the same light tone.

Indeed, one might think that the universe didn't want the two men to talk to each other.

They both had missed the other's phone calls on several occasions.

"I noticed that too," Damien said with a forced chuckle.

Damien's chuckle tasted bitter in his mouth and he knew Dimitri didn't fail to notice it, as an uncomfortable silence fell for a few seconds on the line.

"You okay?" Dimitri asked in a hesitant but concerned tone.

There was nothing that escaped Dimitri's attention and Damien was unable to hide anything from his friend.

Dimitri was capable to pinpoint when something was wrong even when Damien pulled out his great acting skills.

It was almost disconcerting.

But at least, he would be able to go straight into his confession without wasting any time.

"Yeah Yeah. I'm okay. I just woke up, that's all," Damien explained urgently.

Damien bit back a curse and mentally rolled his eyes.

None of the words that came out of his mouth were what he had decided to say to Dimitri.

Any desire to open up about his breakup with Craig had mysteriously evaporated in the air.

Something inexplicable stopped him, as if he were realizing the gravity of the thing he was about to say.

Come to think of it, Damien wasn't sure if he was quite prepared to speak, considering how recent all of this mess was.

And the fact that his mind still couldn't fathom that it was over between him and Craig made it all the more difficult for Damien to open up.

"Yeah, I can hear it in your voice."

The caution in Dimitri's tone confirmed to Damien that Dimitri knew something was wrong.

Damien wanted to find a way to alleviate this unusual discomfort between him and his friend.

"Did you know that Eric was able to guess when I just jerk off just by the sound of my voice on the phone?"

Damien welcomed Dimitri's contagious laugh on the other end of the phone with a genuine smile.

Damien thought he had managed to ease the atmosphere on the phone, but when Dimitri's laughter subsided, the tension returned.

"Listen Dam, I tried to call you to give you some new head ups about Sam's party."

After a few seconds of confusion, Damien Clark understood Dimitri's words and he grimaced.

"Oh shit."

Dimitri laughed weakly.

"Did you forgot handsome?"

It wasn't so much that Damien had forgotten but rather that he had been far too overwhelmed and occupied with the completely unforeseen events that had taken place in the space of a few hours.

He really was the worst friend ever.

"No... well yes. I got drunk yesterday with Nick and I woke up with a hangover. So, I um..."

"It's all good Dam. I'm not lecturing you," Dimitri stopped him gently.

Damien let out a nervous, forced chuckle.

"Sorry, I talk too much," Damien admitted.

Dimitri hummed amusedly.

"I wanted to let you know that Andrea is having a surprise supper for Sam at her parent’s place."

Damien took a few seconds before answering, believing he had misunderstood.

"But I thought you were planning Sam's party," Damien said in surprise tone.

Last Damien heard, Dimitri was the one responsible for organizing Samuel's birthday and bachelor party.

"Hmm, yes but Andrea also did the same on her side. With the planning of the wedding, she completely forgot to let us know."

Damien didn't miss the discomfort in Dimitri's voice.

At least the uneasiness now engendered in the conversation wasn't his fault this time around.

"Oh. I see," Damien could only say.

Damien had the impression that the unease had amplified and he didn't know if he should mention it or at least encourage Dimitri to open up because clearly something was bothering him.

Damien wasn't sure if it had to do with the fact that his friend wasn't the one throwing Sam's party or if it was something else that was bothering him.

It really wasn't in Dimitri's character to be upset over something so mundane, so surely there had to be something else troubling him.

"Hmm, so I'll text you the address of Andrea's parents. It starts at seven thirty. You have to be there before Sam, or else the surprise will be ruined. So, don't be late, Pretty Boy," Dimitri jokingly said.

A smile spread across Damien's lips.

He now intended to have a ‘tête-à-tête’ with Dimitri after Samuel's birthday supper.

The two men clearly had a lot on their chest.

Damien was still not sure if he was mentally ready to share his romantic fumbles but if there was one person he was comfortable with, it was Dimitri.

"Don't worry. 'I'm getting ready right now," Damien reassured, although he had no idea what time it was.

The two friends said goodbye and hung up.

Five twenty-two was displayed on the screen.

Damien would've preferred to have more time in front of him to prepare but if his mental calculations were right, he should be arriving exactly at seven o'clock.

He didn't waste another second and quickly spun into the shower to then get out twenty minutes later due to his messy thoughts that kept him prisoner in the bath longer than he had planned.

It was impossible for Damien to deactivate his thoughts and keep himself from remembering his breakup with Craig, though he did everything to achieve just that.

He found that remembering that moment only caused him unnecessary harm and did nothing to help him find a way to reconcile with his ex-boyfriend.

A distraction like the surprise dinner for Sam's party was just what Damien needed to clear his mind.

Staying at home, feeling sorry for himself and trying to find a solution to get Craig's forgiveness was, without question, a bad plan that was in no way productive.

After quickly dressing in a casual outfit and putting on some cologne, Damien throw one last look at himself in the mirror before leaving his apartment.

[writer-akihiko]

so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

[strawbabysimp]

Milk || Cow Hybrid Sub!Shigaraki x Reader

Genre: Smut

Category: Sub!Shigaraki x GN!Dom!Reader

Warning(s): Cum Eating, Handjobs, Male Lactation, Nipple Play, Slight Degradation

Request(s): "OH MY GOD THIS IDEA HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE SO HEAR ME OUT HOUSEWIFE COW HYBRID SHIGARAKI 😩😩😩😩 PLEASE MAKE HIM A SUB AND THE READER A DOM "

A/N: I'm not sure how to feel about this :) I enjoyed it far too much~

Waiting for you to get home was torture. His chest and cock ached in unison and with every small task he couldn't help but whimper from the way his clothes grazed his most sensitive areas. As time passed, he could no longer resist the urge to rub over the bulge beneath his apron, attempting to distract himself from the way his nipples rubbed against the clothing painfully by tugging at the pitifully denied cock between his legs. He was so close to spilling out, the lightest touch adding to the wet spots in the fabric of his top. He hoped that by wearing a cropped shirt the air would somehow soothe the sensitive buds but he knew the only real solution would be a good milking.

His pants stuck to his legs unpleasantly and he found himself quickly peeling the fabric off of his sweat-laden skin, sighing blissfully as the air hit his exposed thighs. His bottom half was left only in briefs and he contemplated taking off the top he wore or the cow-print apron you had bought him jokingly, but decided against it. He would be far too tempted if he saw his own hardened nipples, white collecting at the tip as he tried his best not to give each of them a painfully satisfying tug.

He whines against the kitchen counter, head resting atop his forearm as his hand comes to stroke up and down his shaft. Blue strands stick to the man's forehead the longer he keeps at it, the coldness of the countertop no longer felt against his scorching skin. The dark horns atop his head shined in the light of the kitchen, always pristine even when he himself was coming undone. He was so desperate to just reach up and squeeze down onto the swollen nubs, craving the sweet release that came whenever he spilled out over his own chest, wasting his precious milk as it made its way down his torso in spurts. But he couldn't. He had promised to wait for you.

That's the position you caught him in, spilling over his own fingers as he cried out, pressing himself further against the counter in a way that had him soaking through his shirt. After catching his breath he noticed you, standing on the other side a bit farther off, eyes widened slightly from the sight. "I'm sorry," he said between gasps, "It was too much. I needed... I'm sorry..." He trailed off nervously as you stepped towards him.

You were quick to soothe his worrying, the tension in his brow releasing with every reassuring word. "That's okay. I'm not mad. I'm sure you still have lots of milk left in there, right? Unless you spent the day milking yourself like a filthy whore? Hmm?" The bluenette's head shook in denial. He had done no such thing. You had been at work for the majority of the day and with a quick peck to his lips and a gentle squeeze to his chest you had him promise to wait for you to get home before he did anything to relieve the pressure in his chest.

Having made your way to the other side of the counter, you got a better look at the moisture soaking through his shirt. You moved to untie the strings keeping the cow-print against his body, the item falling to the floor and allowing you to see the mess he had made of himself. Cum mingled with the fibers of his boxers to leave a wet patch in the crotch and when your index finger reached out to trace the underside of his shaft in a straight line, his back pressed against the counter as he allowed you to continue your slow movements, you were pleased to get the small twitch as feedback.

Satisfied with his cock's reaction, your hands moved their way up to his stomach, his waist was thin and defined but still soft and you couldn't help but dig your nails in just slightly to gain the pleasant-sounding hiss Shigaraki lets out at the pressure. Once again you moved along, digits trailing teasing swirls into his skin before settling on his swollen chest. You made sure to only cup them, avoiding the hardened peaks showing through the soaked shirt. The cow hybrid stared at you with big eyes and a quivering mouth, desperate for the way you milked the tender mounds.

Giving in to his wordless pleas, you clamped down on the needy buds. He pressed himself closer to you, head falling down to rest on your shoulder as you rested your head against his own. He cried out from the merciless motions, skin chaffing slightly from the crop top still adorning his body. You noticed his pained whines and pulled away. His eyes filled with tears at the lack of contact but he calmed down once he realized your intentions. Lifting his arms to help you release him from his clothing, Shigaraki whimpered as it rose up and off of him. He quickly returned to his original position and you nibbled softly on his ear as a sign of claim before resuming your ministrations.

His noises only grew louder until you were sure anyone outside could easily know the nature of what was going on inside your home. Despite the volume of his moans, you were eager to bring more out of him. You detached one of your hands from the perk nipple, the milky residue coating your fingers as you bypassed the band of his briefs. His cock was hard in your hands and a wave of precum left him with only a few pumps in your palm. The abandoned nipple continued to puff up, sore yet still dripping down. What a waste.

Your lips wrapped around the leaking tip, pulling more of the lukewarm flavor into your mouth with every soft suck. Blue strands bounced in the air as he struggled to keep himself up, head tilted back as he gave you more access to his chest. Your hand never stopped thumbing at his cock, focusing on the tip as the precum and milk mixed to create a sort of lubricant that spilled out over your fingers and down his arousal, coating his inner thighs in wetness. He gasped in your hold, shaking against the counter he now relied on for stability. His fingers dipped into his own mouth in an attempt to quiet down but quickly failed as the overwhelming sensations hit him.

Drool trails down his chin as cum drips from his cock. His eyes roll to the back of his head and fingers that were once in his mouth now rested against the side of his face in a wet mess. You don't release him until you've drained his cock completely, sobs echoing off the kitchen floor as his legs threatened to collapse under the weight of his orgasm. Satisfied with the job done, you pulled away from his chest with a pop before bringing your hand out of the fabric confines. Tears ran down his face but a soft smile was on yours as you got a look at just how wrecked he was. Your hand was left coated in the sticky secretions and you couldn't help but bring the digits to his mouth to clean up.

"Sweet, isn't it?"

[randynova]

♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡

𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.

“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”

Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”

“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously,  “You just like picking fights.” 

“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to. 

Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft. 

He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.

Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.

Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”

Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”

Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”

“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.” 

“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics. 

“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”

Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you. 

You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.

Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”

Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”

“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”

“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”

“You asked why I  stayed with her and I told you.”

“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”

A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”

Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "

"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."

'8:12 PM'

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony. 

The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance. 

The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule. 

You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled. 

Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.

“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."

A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was  amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"

Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."

"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"

Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."

Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”

Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?" 

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."

Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count. 

Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.

"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.

So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”

Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”

Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream. 

If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”

You smiled.

The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.

Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.

As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.

Afterall, you were his woman.

And he loved you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦✦✦✦

[tanaka-ryunosakes-husband]

More Tanaka head cannons because he’s the love of my life.

Plus some poly nishinoya/tanaka/Kiyoko/reader

He’d give the best hugs

they’d be so warm and tight and he’d tell you it’ll all be okay

he’d help you through a panic attack on accident.

like

“Oh shit, you don’t look so good. Do you need some water? or food? or a hug? do you have a fever? come lay down i’ll hold you.”

and then boom. you’re laughing at him. and he makes jokes and you forget about why you had the panic attack.

of course not all the time

but as you guys date for longer he’d know what’s happening and how to help you

Sensory overload? Headphones and getting outside for fresh air. Taking off the scratchy sweater or the socks that the seam isn’t sitting right with.

PTSD trigger? get you out of the situations and walking you through grounding techniques.

whatever you need he’s got you.

he’s a human heater (i love heat. i love to overheat. it’s comforting. can you tell i’ve worn hoodies in the summer since middle school)

best nap dates ever

pulls you under his hoodies to share the warmth and just have contact.

and if you don’t fit the ones he has, he just buys bigger ones without saying anything.

he also likes to just. lay together naked. not even sex but having skin to skin contact as a grounding exercise.

you’re real he’s real. it’s all okay for the moment.

POLY TIMMME

nishinoya third wheels but eventually he just joins in on the cuddle sessions and gradually becomes a part of your relationship.

“Oh you kissed Ryu goodbye and not me? rude. i’m sitting right here”

“fine,” and gentle kiss to the lips and Ryu is just like. oh. i want that. can i kiss him?

anyway. you come back from your errands and they’re just straight up making out.

but it’s a gentle loving thing. not urgent or actively leading to sex. just enjoying each other.

cue a cuddle/make out pile. gently kissing each other and switching around who’s kissing who and where.

some giggling and stuff. lots of compliments. just a really loving situation.

I love this chaotic duo and i ship them.

and when all y’all are together they get really calm.

they don’t wanna waste any precious time together by yelling or anything.

Then Tanaka and Kiyoko get back in contact with each other after high school and she eventually joins the mix.

It all falls into an easy domestic rhythm.

Tanaka does food prep (and makes you all move a little bit every day. the smallest amount is better than nothing) so y’all stay healthy

Kiyoko cleans up, does day to day simple chores and you fix stuff. shampoo the carpets unclog the sink change the lightbulb move electrical stuff.

When Nishinoya is home from his travels he brings back a lot of energy and makes sure we’d all go out. to amusement parks, arcades, bowling, seeing old friends.

when the relationship is big it’s easy to fall into a quiet and detached life. All you need is eachother. why would you leave the safety of your house and see others where you might embarrass yourself?

because socializing is important and healthy and they’re your friends! they’re important. show them some love!!!

Nobody really found it weird. it was “Guys. the four of us are together. we love each other and hope you’ll accept us”

“okay cool. wanna go to brunch?”

“what? that’s it? at least react a little?”

“Oh yeah, I’m happy for you guys. you can tell us all about it during brunch! I’m hungry”

“🤦🏼 for fucks sake. you aren’t even surprised?”

“nah. y’all have been really affectionate with each other since high school. I’m happy you found a way to be happy. that’s all. now. can we please go get food. i’m fucking starving”

“fine…. thank you, by the way”