#they all loved those kids so much as best they could given their circumstances

[mmelolabelle]

Sometimes I think about how deeply loved and wanted Luke and Leia ultimately were by all of their parents; Anakin, Padme, Breha, Bail, Beru and Owen and I just want to throw myself into the sun.

In some form or another each of them risked their lives for those children at some point. They didn’t have to. Anakin and Padme didn’t have to keep the pregnancy. Bail and Breha and Beru and Owen didn’t have to take them in. Obi-Wan didn’t have to dedicate the rest of his life to keep them safe. Every single one of them either the last thing they did, the last thing they thought about, or the last thing the saw was Luke and/or Leia.

So much of the Skywalker twins lives sucked but they were so, so loved by all their parents and I just 🥲🥲🥲

[wing-ed-thing]

Childhood Friends to Lovers Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns Not into romance? Here's some platonic childhood friends with Iruka hcs!

𓆃 It's a very natural progression, especially if you're in the same age group as Iruka and remain moderately involved with the village growing up.

𓆃 Iruka is friendly enough to be able to bond with just about anyone, and given you're in similar circumstances after the Nine-Tails attack on the village, you're bound to be drawn to one another.

𓆃 Especially if you're left with few loved ones, being around others who share your circumstances makes your situation feel less lonely. At least, that was the idea when the Third Hokage implemented the youth programs for those who lost family stability.

𓆃 It was an awkward series of after-academy and weekend activities thrown together by a bunch of volunteer shinobi who didn't know much about kids, but you and Iruka wouldn't know better until you were older.

𓆃 These programs were also open to children whose parents were now working around the clock to assist the village, so even if your circumstances didn't resemble Iruka's, you could naturally find yourself in similar spaces.

𓆃 You probably couldn't even recall the exact moment you and Iruka became friends at all. You just always remembered him there and could hardly think of a time where Iruka wasn't in your life.

𓆃 (Iruka remembers. He's told you once before. Something about helping him out when he was new to the program and grieving, but you don't actually remember any of that.)

𓆃 He's always the first person you invite to your group outings with friends and he always makes time for you. He actually always makes time for anything you invite him to, whether you explicitly ask him or hint that you'd like him there.

𓆃 For a lifetime, he's been at every graduation, performance, and new life event you could ever ask someone to be at.

𓆃 Iruka was also always at your place, and if he wasn't at yours, you were at his.

𓆃 Any family you have surely already considers him one of them, your more sentimental— or otherwise slightly ditsy— family forgetting that Iruka isn't another blood family member.

𓆃 As you get older, your friends or extended family will constantly assume that Iruka's your partner. From your teenage years on, everyone will assume that you're a couple whether you are or not.

𓆃 And, well, you practically are a couple. You see each other every chance you get; you talk to each other every chance you get; you work in complete and utter tandem, that even people who don't know you very well assume that you're a couple.

𓆃 With his proximity to the people closest to you, it's an appropriate assumption and when you do finally get together, no one's surprised.

𓆃 Hell, even if you decide that marriage is for you, no one would be surprised about that either.

𓆃 "I thought you were already married," practically every shinobi in the village will most certainly say upon your announcement.

𓆃 Children will be a large part of your life whether they're yours or not, strictly because of Iruka's status as a teacher. His students mean the world to them, and by extension, it's probably for the best if you get as least a little involved.

𓆃 Your dynamic will work best if you show a level of dedication on par with his, whether you're another teacher, a sensei, or even simply drop by with treats every so often.

𓆃 The students think that ANBU warriors are fascinating and giving demonstrations of your superior kunai skills never fail to impress.

𓆃 "You'll only be able to do that if you do all your homework on time!"

𓆃 Your relationship is village-centric. Perhaps you won't be setting off on any crazy joint-mission anytime soon, but you will have a close, natural relationship and a village full of people who absolutely adore you.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Not into romance? Here's some platonic childhood friends with Iruka hcs!

[lucysarah-c]

Do you think Levi would be with someone who was canonically "innocent" or "weak"?

Would he have a relationship with an ordinary civilian?

Considering how much shitty hard shit he's been through, it seems like he wouldn't be with a partner who has a good life, who hasn't been through hard shit and who is pure.

Would he get cold and distant from a partner who is weak, insecure, unable to get up from a fall?

I felt the need to ask this question because I read a Hc about Levi being uncomfortable with weakness and that he can't be with someone who is weak and innocent

Especially in the manga, he said something about hating the weak.

Or if he saw the weaknesses of the average partner, would he accept his flaws or would he grow cold and distant from him?

Ahh I don't know, maybe his behavior towards his partner depends on the dynamics of their relationship. For example if he has been friends with S/o since childhood. Even if S/o was a weak person, maybe he wouldn't distance himself from her. But I don't know if he would like her romantically.

If you are the last person I will ask this question to, I can ask it on another blog. I didn't know which blog to ask.

Hi, sweetie! How are you? Mmh… Excuse me if I am wrong in assuming this after reading your ask, but since you mentioned that this is something that had been on your mind lately after you read a hc and you felt the need to ask me… I do not know who or what made you feel like you're weak, first of all, and even if you felt that way, therefore you're not worthy of Levi's love.

I have a particular… you may call it a "personal" issue with the word "weak". What do you consider weak? What is weakness in a person to even begin? "That person is weak" compared to what? Or to whom? Under which circumstances? Is what people consider "weakness" truly a weakness? Because everything may look dark if you don't consider the source of light.

I'll give my reasons later, but to make a long story short, no, I don't think Levi has any personal issue with weakness.

To start the argument, you, or maybe what they have made you believe, is "weakness" as you mentioned "innocence, ordinary civilian, good life, pure," all related to "weakness." Which leads me to ask you, what do you see as weak in all those characteristics? Because I see none. Let me explain. You see, people consider "ordinary civilians" weak, but if ordinary civilians didn't rise from their beds every single morning and do what they do for society, soldiers like Levi wouldn't have what to eat, what to wear, streets to walk, beds to sleep, or houses to hide from the cruel winter. To set a clear example, after Europe was DEVASTATED by the war, who rebuilt it? Who grabbed the helmets from the dead soldiers that were their men, their sons, their husbands, and made strainers to cook meals for the kids? Who picked up each and every single piece of debris so the cities could be rebuilt? Who worked the lands that once were trenches for kids to have what to eat? I see no weakness there. Weakness is in a human when they need to hold a weapon to feel powerful.

About the words "innocence, good life, pure"… why would Levi consider a person that didn't have his tough life someone not worthy of his love? There's nothing wrong and there's no fault in not suffering; romanticizing a harsh and poor life is something very dangerous. To set a clear example that Levi wishes that those he loves have a peaceful life, is him watching that mother with her child before the expedition to retake Wall Maria. He himself thought of his mother and the peaceful normal life he wished she had, he wished he could have given her.

Levi himself is an extremely sensitive, open-hearted, and altruistic person. He craves a normal life; his dream was to have a tea shop and live an "innocent, peaceful, pure" life. This reminds me of the movie "Sociedad de la Nieve," when Roberto Canessa is told "you have the best legs of the team, you have to walk for the rest of us," to do what others can't. THIS, for me, is the reason Levi joined the scouts. Because he KNOWS he can do something that others can't, and he will carry that weight because he knows he can carry it. Levi isn't in the military because he thinks he's "strong" or the power of being "strong," because he wishes to protect those who can't do the job he can, because he wants to be the person who helps others as he wasn't helped as an innocent, pure, weak little kid.

Levi values life, and he would never look down on someone because their life is perhaps more peaceful than his. On the contrary, I think he fights so everyone can have the peaceful life he couldn't have. Maybe, the "character" that others may consider "too innocent, pure, weak" is the character that has the tranquility and safety in their daily life that allows Levi to find refuge in their peacefulness to recover his energy to keep going. Maybe he enjoys spending time with them, admiring the little moments of life, to understand for what he is fighting.

Maybe this partner is going through a hard moment they can't see through, and perhaps that struggle isn't as big as what Levi's has been through. But only a very selfish person would measure someone's pain with their own; feelings have no proportions, we just feel them. Diminishing them won't do any good. It's easy to judge a cat for not being as strong as a dog, while nobody is calling a dog weak because they can't climb a tree. Life is too beautiful and complex to see it through a single lens. No, I do not believe Levi would do such a thing.

Hope this helps… if you ever feel like you need someone to vent, feel free. Stay safe.

Lots of love!

[lightlycareless]

I probably should be writing up my other requests, but I've decided to follow up on this ask and write a little drabble of how Toji and your daughter, Naomi (Naoya's the dad) met the first time. Just something silly lol. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless :) ngl i'm nervous i've never written toji before lmao.

warnings: none.

The first time he sees her was during one of his tedious, yet necessary visits to the Zen’in estate—a sulking child dejectedly playing with their toys by one of the many gardens.

The sight of children always irritated him, mostly those inside the estate because it meant they were his relatives one way or the other, and since he doesn’t really care for his “family” he barely gives the child a brief glance before continuing with his day.

The second time he sees her again would be under similar circumstances: dejectedly playing with her toys while in the same garden. This time however, in the company of someone else, presumably a staff member given their clothes.

But even when accompanied while doing what a kid could love the most (or so does Toji believe) she still looked as gloomily as ever, sulking with that pout he couldn’t see as anything else but whiny, if not brattish.

«That’s none of my business» he’d say as he moved on with his day yet again. Although the question of who could be the parent of such a miserable child settles in his mind.

Yet, his curiosity wouldn’t get the best of him until seeing her for a third time, and seemingly worse than before: moping around by one of the engawa, toys set aside, while looking down to the floor in such a depressed way Toji swore he saw the kid crying.

At this point, he just needed to know: is this child really that miserable? If so, why haven’t their parents done anything about it?? Not that he expected the Zen’in to care for the wellbeing of anyone outside “the greater good of the clan”, but if his experience was of any help, the one thing they disliked the most after disappointments, was drama.

With curiosity peaked to its highest, as well as feeling something very demure, almost undetectable, called pity, Toji decides to approach her.

“You’ve been moping around for 3 consecutive days; you better have a damn good reason to be this miserable.” Toji says, perhaps in the worst way possible someone could talk to a child; but one must excuse him, he doesn’t have much experience with kids outside of his own—and even then, it’s not that good.

Well, at least she didn’t run away at the sight of him like others have.

“d…n..t b..d… w…ds..” the young child says, no— murmurs. And in such an unintelligible way that Toji just can’t help but groan out of exasperation.

“Talk clearly.” He orders. “Why am I even trying…”

“Don’t say bad words!!” The little girl cries. “Or mama will ground you…”

“No need to yell, kid.” Toji frowns. “Anyways, is that why you’re all whiny? You grounded or something?”

The child doesn’t respond with anything else but a sniffle and a nod, before hugging her knees to bury her face in them.

“Why were you grounded for?”

“…Because I said a bad word.” She eventually murmurs again.

“I can’t hear you.” He scolds.

“Because I said a bad word!” She cries, and this makes Toji laugh.

“Really? That’s all?” He teases, still not believing her words. She frowns. “Back in my day one got grounded for a lot worse.”

Toji doesn’t know what he was expected; maybe to see her react the same snappy way his son always does, engage in a push-and-pull bickering that would just end up with him mocking her.

But she doesn’t, instead, she just stares at him for a few seconds before going back to her knees.

And that makes him feel a bit… let down.

“This got you really upset, huh?”

…

Silence.

He sighs.

“What’s the sentence?”

“Hm?” She looks up from her knees, a curious yet saddened look on her face.

“What are you grounded with?”

“…Mama said I can’t eat sweets for two weeks.”

Toji wishes to laugh, really, because this punishment was hilariously silly compared to what he expected, with a completely exaggerated reaction to follow! But… he supposes that for the spoiled kid he’s slowly starting to label her as, that might be the worst thing ever.

“Well, you’re already 3 days in. Just 11 to go.”

“But I don’t want to be grounded!” she cries. “I want sweets!!”

“Calm down, kid—it’s not the end of the world.”

“That’s easy for you to say… you’re not grounded.”

“I’ve been grounded, and with worse things too.” He says, and of course…

“Like what?”

She needs to know. Toji regrets ever saying anything immediately after.

“Uh, well, I got to do things I didn’t like either; you got it easy kid, I would’ve done anything to be punished like you were.” Truly, anything outside of being thrown into a pit of curses would’ve been a thousand times better.

“Sweets are too good.” the little girl excuses. “There’s nothing better than that!”

“They can ruin your teeth and make you all giddy if you eat too many.”

“… That’s what papa said too.” She pouts.

“Well, he’s right.” Toji says, and at the mention of both parents, he can’t help but wonder… “What’s your name, kid?”

“Naomi!” she responds instantly. “Naomi Zen’in.”

“Nao—” Toji blinks, twisting his face into a combination of surprise and… disgust? Did Naobito have another kid? At his old age? Really?? “Naomi?”

Maybe he heard wrong, but Naomi only nods excitedly.

“But everyone calls me princess.” She continues. “Because papa says I’m a princess and everyone should treat me as such!”

That… well, that doesn’t sound like anything Naobito would say, unless his old age is finally getting to him? If that’s the case…wow—Toji never thought he’d live to see this happen.

Still wants to be sure though.

“Who’s your dad?”

Naomi blinks.

“You don’t know who papa is?” She asks, with a delicate mocking tone that reassures him she’s a Zen’in. “Everyone knows who my papa is!”

“I’m not everyone.” He scowls, a reaction that rattles Naomi a bit. He sighs. “I’m not around that often so I don’t know what goes down at the estate—just tell me his name, kid.”

“Papa.” Naomi responds proudly, before Toji’s laughter swiftly wipes the joy out of her face. “…What?”

“That’s not his name” he continues laughing. “He has a name, just like you.”

“…is papa’s name not papa?”

“Like you’re not named princess, that’s what people call you.” Around the same way he’s called a disgrace, but that’s a story for another time. “You don’t know your dad’s name? What about your mom?”

“…Mama…”

“Come on, kid, you must know something.”

“My name is not kid.” She frowns, before pressing her lips together in order focus on discovering their names—to no avail.

Not even her own parents were to be of any help, since they’d always use pet names when referring to one another, or at least from what she recalled.

But there is one title that eventually manages to cross her mind, one that her mama would use when she’s feeling playful, tease her papa with it…

“Captain…?”

“Captain?” Toji raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to—”

Wait.

Captain… who holds a title like that inside the Zen’in estate? There are only two groups that he knows of that have such a position, the kukuru and the hei.

But if she was the daughter of someone from the kukuru unit, she wouldn’t be allowed to freely roam the estate, so that only leaves one—

No.

No way.

She couldn’t.

Is that why—

“Naoya?” Toji breathes. “Your dad is Naoya??”

That wimpy kid that would secretly follow him around whenever at the estate, but never approach him?

The brattish heir of the Zen’in?

The one no one liked? Not even his subordinates?

That man—that man was a father now?

Well shit, consider him rightfully surprised.

“Yes!” She grins, nodding. “Mama said I was named like him!”

Oh, now he remembers. The whole charade when his engagement was first announced, followed by his wedding.

He was invited to the ceremony too, but didn’t go, or more likely, didn’t stay for the whole thing. Just took whatever he could from there and left—he does remember thinking that it wouldn’t take long before Naoya divorced her or something…

But this little girl’s existence proved that his relationship not only endured but flourished—and given the way she spoke of him, Naoya hadn’t been as precarious as he believed. If anything, he was proving to be a better father than anyone could expect of the Zen’in!

No doubt, work of your influence; it must be, you’re still around after all…

Well, all that he could say regarding this situation was good for her. Naomi is certainly living a better life than anyone in her similar circumstances would’ve gotten.

“Your mom is Y/N, isn’t she?” Toji asks, Naomi nods. “Well, you’re certainly unexpected.”

Alongside the fact that spoiled brat Naoya managed to behave as a proper parent by punishing her daughter. Certainly seemed like it would happen from what little he was able to perceive of their family dynamic.

No wonder she was upset, this was probably the first time she had experienced the consequences of her actions. But if so, what did she do?

“Anyways, what word did you say to get you grounded?”

She shakes her head.

“No! I’m not telling! Or you’ll tell mama… just like Mariya-chan….”

Toji chuckles.

“I won’t”

Naomi continues shaking her head, not yet convinced. At least she’s not that naïve.

“Really, I mean it.” He insists. “What is that thing that always—ah, right.”

Toji offers Naomi his pinky finger.

“I pinky promise.”

And just like that, Naomi smiles, taking his pinky with hers. Well, maybe she was still naïve.

“Ok!” she nods, and without further precedent— “I said fuck!”

He chokes for a quick second, before erupting into laughter.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear right—what —what did you say?”

“Fuck!”

He laughs harder. Oh, boy was this funnier than he imagined!eHe

“What was that again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuuuuuckkkkk!!” Naomi whines, irritated. “Why can’t you listen?? Are you deaf???”

It’s not that he wasn’t listening appropriately, oh no, he heard her very well.

But rather, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding the way she said such common word in her little voice hilarious. It was just… funny to hear a little kid a word they shouldn’t be saying. When the kid wasn’t his, of course.

“Where’d you learn to say that?” Toji asks, doing his best to hold back his laughter, less he wants to lose this gold mine of entertainment!

“One of mama’s friends taught me! Satoru-nii” Naomi responds, his amusement dies soon after.

“Satoru…?” He repeats slowly. “As in Gojo Satoru?”

She nods.

Guess it’s not that funny anymore.

“You need better friends than him, kid.” Toji advises.

“Why? Are you better?” Naomi frowns. Well, there’s no doubt now that she’s Naoya’s daughter.

“Just saying” he shrugs.

“…I’m sorry.” She apologizes. Now that came from you. “…I really like Satoru-nii, but mama said he could be… weird.”

«That’s an easy way to put it.» Toji thinks. “She’s right, you know?”

“But he’s so funny…”

“But she’s still your mom.” Toji says; unsure why he’s even justifying you. Naomi’s not his kid, after all.

“But Satoru-nii is her friend!”

“But she’s still your mom.” He repeats. It’s a “lesser evil” type of thing. But really, he dislikes both families.

“But he’s my friend too!”

“But you—"

Toji, recognizing the pattern of endless back and forth bickering he’s slowly falling into, immediately puts an end to this conversation by muttering a low “ok, we’re not doing that.” standing up and readying his departure—but not before lightly ruffling her hair, making Naomi whine.

“Just keep out of trouble, kid.” And so, he leaves, barely allowing Naomi to respond as she’s forced to nothing but see the strange, yet oddly familiar man, disappear into the hallways.

Toji would continue to see Naomi the following days, and with the same sulkiness that made him rightfully assume she was still grounded.

The difference now is that whenever Naomi noticed him, she’d greet him with an eager wave alongside a toothy grin that initially confused him, believing it was directed at someone else, before realizing that this only happened each time he was around—so yes, it was him that she acknowledged.

And this was, to say the least, quite… heartwarming.

Yes, even a man like himself could feel such a thing—something he never thought he’d experience in his life… at least inside the Zen’in estate. To be seen, even if was by a child, and be happy about it.

He sighs.

Ok, fine. Even when their interactions were limited, he still grew a bit fond of the child. She’s still a bit bratty according to Toji’s parameters, but she’s also nice, and very funny; a very needed change for the always boring, cold, mocking, and stupid people around the estate.

So… why not? Sure, she might’ve done something wrong, but it wasn’t that bad. She deserves a break too, you know? He sure ain’t getting it for himself.

Thus, the next time he sees her…

“Here, brat. So you stop moping around.” He says, dumping Naomi with a white box. The girl blinks, far too intrigued and confused by his gift to bother correcting him. “Come on now, open it.”

Naomi doesn’t need to be told twice before her little hands swiftly rip the tape holding the edges of the box and lifting the lids, eyes soon glistening with excitement upon realizing what it was.

“For me?!” She breathes; big round eyes scanning through all its delicious contents: nothing less than chocolates.

“If you can keep a secret.”

“Mama said secrets are not good.” She frowns, Toji sighs.

“Well then, don’t keep it a secret. See if you’ll get in trouble.”

Naomi pouts, shaking her head.

“… thank you.” She eventually says, with a smile that makes Toji a bit homesick. “Um…”

“What now?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know your name.”

Oh. Right. He asked for her name but didn’t introduce himself. Better late than never.

“Toji.”

“Tooojiiii” she repeats slowly, as if testing out the name before giggling. “Thank you Toji-nii!”

“No—Don’t—don’t call me that.” He says, with a scowl that isn’t really meant out of disgust, but rather… it just made him uncomfortable. He didn’t even call Jinichi that! What made anyone think he’d like it for himself?!

“Then what do I call you…?” she frowns, as if this were the most trivial thing to ponder about.

And Toji wishes to say “just my name” before moving on…

But when all the possible outcomes this window of opportunity provided appeared before his mind’s eye, his lips parted into a smile.

He might as well take a chance.

“Well, there is one way you can call me.”

By the start of the second week—not that this hadn’t been the case since the first day—you began to feel very, very regretful for having “punished” your daughter.

Yes, you knew this was bound to happen when you became a mother, and yes, as much as it was endearing to give, you also needed to take…

But oh, you just loved your cute daughter so, so much, all you ever wanted was to see her happy! And alongside the rumors you’ve heard of her behavior apparently being so pitiful since she was grounded… was it really a surprise to anyone that you’ve decided to go against your word and revoke her punishment a bit early?

She still went through a week of it, of course, hopefully enough to get the point across—Besides, it was just one small thing, surely your decision wouldn’t affect the lesson to be learned… that much, right?

At least that is what you tell yourself as you approach Naomi during one of her playtimes, calling out her name before taking a seat by her side and gently hugging her. It warms your heart that even when upset about being grounded, she’s still as lovable as ever given the way her face brightens up when seeing you and tightly hugging you back.

“What are you doing, little pumpkin?” you ask.

“Playing, mama. But I’m hungry.” She whines, you chuckle.

“Well, food is almost ready.” You lean down to kiss the top of her head. “Have you been good while I’ve been away?”

“Always!” she gasps. “…I guess.”

“Why do you guess?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Naomi has never been the unsure one. “Aren’t you my good little princess?”

“Yes… but I still can’t eat sweets, and if I can’t eat sweets, it’s because I haven’t been good.” Naomi lamented.

You give her a tight smile, kissing her one more time before taking out a small box from your obi and handing it to her; she recognized it all too well, enough to gasp and smile!

However, that excitement dies soon after when remembering her current circumstances.

“I know, I know.” You sigh, leaning your head over hers, hugging her softly. “I said you were grounded till the end of the week because we didn’t want you disobeying me or papa… but oh, I don’t like it when you’re sad!”

“…I didn’t mean to.” Naomi murmurs, your heart squeezes with adoration.

“I know, pumpkin.” You coo. “But we don’t like it when you copy bad habits from others; you’re a pretty, intelligent, lovely girl— you don’t need any of that!”

“… I’m sorry mama!” she sobs, pressing her face against your chest, you chuckle.

“Oh, I’m not scolding you, baby!” you say, gently patting her back. “In fact, I’m here because I wanted to tell you that you’re no longer grounded.”

“Re—really?!” she gasps, raising her teary-eyed face to see you. You nod.

“But only if you tell me you understood why you were grounded in the first place.”

“Yes! I understood! No more bad words!” Naomi fervently nods. “I promise!!”

“Then, let’s celebrate with your favorite!” you cheer, rubbing her tears away with your sleeve.

“Taro mochi!” she giggles, quick to open the box.

“Just don’t tell papa, ok? He doesn’t know I decided to do this on my own.”

Although you’re quite surprised he hadn’t done so himself, probably because he was away on a mission, he did tell you he didn’t enjoy seeing Naomi upset with him—how the two managed to ground her in the first place was quite the mystery itself, one that will probably never be answered.

“Promise!” Naomi nods and then, she begins to eat one of the mochi, with her chubby face beaming with delight at the return of her all-time favorite treat. Hopefully this won’t ruin her appetite too much… “Thank you, mama!”

“You’re welcome, Naomi. But don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” You giggle, taking one for yourself. “And don’t chew too fast!”

Naomi tries her best to do what you ask, but her excitement for having her favorite sweets back overrules everything else; in that sense, she takes after you.

After she’s satisfied with the mochi, but still hungry for dinner, the two decide to make a quick stop by the bedroom to change clothes, before eventually going to the dining hall and wait for the food to be ready.

When walking towards the living quarters, Naomi would tightly hold onto your hand while telling you about her day, which often consisting of just playing with her toys under some imaginative plotline she made up for the occasion—this time: a secret spy that needed to infiltrate this heavily guarded mansion to give a fellow spy a special package.

While in true Naomi fashion, this still somehow went against what she usually conjured up, naturally prompting you to ask where’d she get such idea, perhaps from a movie?

But before she could give you an answer, Naomi suddenly stops, eyes intently focused on something at a distance, with such dedication you could only think she saw a ghost! Until a grin appears on her lips, using her free hand to eagerly wave at the person across the garden.

An innocent greeting at first, making you smile at the notion of how bubbly your daughter was.

Had she not screamed the words that made you choke, dumbfoundedly shooting up to see who it was, while wonder why she referred to him that way!

“Hello, Toji-sama!!” Naomi sang. “I’m not grounded anymore!!”

And Toji seems to have forgotten of this arrangement given the way he confusedly looked up towards the origin of that shrilly voice, not finding any correlation between the girl waving at him and himself even after seeing her… until suddenly, all comes back at him, making him chuckle and think “How could I forget?” before briefly greeting her back and moving on.

Their interactions ends swiftly soon after, and Naomi returns to her previous conversation with such comfort, it was almost as if it didn’t even happen.

But of course, this exchange, even while brief, undoubtedly created a lasting impression on you, starting an endless ocean of questions ranging from when did she meet him to why did she call him that honorific, of literally any other??

Well, if it was worth anything… this shouldn’t come to you as a surprise considering how highly Naoya thought of him; Naomi might’ve heard her father compliment him and somehow, compared him to a deity.

Still a bit… dramatic, but at the end of the day, her daughter was nothing but a child, bound to make silly innocent things like this.

So, you let this slide by chuckling and continuing listening to Naomi’s “highly secretive but very thrilling spy story” as she wanted you to “coolly describe.” before arriving at the dining hall and eating.

Believing that in the sense of seeking the remarkable, Naomi takes after her dad.

That's me trying to explain that Naomi's acceptance and eventual admiration of Toji comes from Naoya lmao. Inherited for sure :) when you tell Naoya about this he's like "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT BEFORE?!" You ask him to not encourage her lol.

[faithisasuperstar]

Hey! I just suddenly had an idea for a fic so can I req something for coral x district 7 -> capitol reader? Where R is like Sejanus and moved from the districts to the capitol, before she moved though she was dating coral (ignore all the weird timeline stuff sdfjvjd). Years later she's given coral for her to mentor and basically their kinda reunion at the zoo where they sort out their misunderstandings and etc... (why do I actually love this concept) Thank you and feel free to change things around! Take care <33 - N

long lost lovers → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you and coral are reunited under troublesome circumstances. i made the reader from district four just to try and make it make a little more sense in my head :) this is such a good idea, i hope you like it!! feminine intended reader

warnings → the whole reunion part is a little rushed imo.. not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     none of your classmates were rather fond of you. they thought it quite entitled that you had bought your way into the capitol, as if you wanted to be there in the first place. to them, you might as well have been "animal," along with all of the other district kids. you tried to keep quiet, in an attempt to avoid the torment they inflicted on you, and it worked for the most part. your counterpart, sejanus, was subject to similar circumstances as you, having moved to the capitol after the war had ended. he, on the other hand, had a much different plan of action than you. sejanus was very outspoken, a trait you admired, though it was not very appreciated by your classmates and teachers. having seen how they treated him when you first moved there, you decided it would be best if you just kept your mouth shut.

     among some of the top students of the academy, focused mostly on your studies instead of your nonexistent social life, you were picked to be a mentor for the tenth annual hunger games. but it was also plausible that your parents had bought you a spot as a mentor to “push you out of your comfort zone.” it was more like punishment than privilege to you, being forced to mentor someone you may have known. faces flashed across the screen during the reapings, those of children of various ages, some more malnourished than others. dean highbottom called out names as the tributes were being announced. your breath hitched when he reached your assigned tribute. the district four girl, a rather familiar face. you hadn’t seen the girl in years, two, to be exact. all the memories you had with her, the feelings you forgot you could feel, which you thought you had left back in district four, came flooding back. you were itching to see her again, and you couldn’t help but wonder when that day would come, but you knew it couldn’t come fast enough.

     it was agonizing, waiting for the time to come where you could visit coral. you had been thinking of what you would say since the day she was assigned to you. first and foremost, she was definitely due an apology. you had moved to the capitol without warning, awoken one day with directions to pack your most precious belongings. you left with no chance to say goodbye to coral. of course, you tried writing her tear stained letter after letter, but with no response for months on end, it was either she officially despised you, or your mother was intercepting your mail. you prayed it was the latter, but the day had finally come where you would find out. you hurriedly made your way to the zoo after collecting some of the finest capitol foods to offer her, in hopes that food would make the meeting a little more bearable for the both of you.

     immediately, you caught sight of the girl. and oh, was she a sight for sore eyes. coral, your girl, the only person you could ever open up to, was so close to you after having been separated for so long. you lacked self-restraint, scrambling up to the bars like a lunatic. “coral!” you cried, causing heads to turn your way. her eyes met yours, a striking blue, just as beautiful as the last time you had seen them, but with a new tinge of anger that hadn’t been there before. she didn’t run up to you like you thought she would’ve. no, she stayed sat on her rock, staring at you, dumbfounded. had it been a mistake to come? maybe after all this time with no contact, she had really started to hate you. or worse, she had forgotten about you. it took her district partner, mizzen, nudging her to wake her from her daze. coral slowly got up, stick still in her hand, and hesitantly walked towards you. “coral, i’m so, so sorry,” you started, reaching for her hand before she aggressively pulled it back.

     “save it. it’s not your fault i’m here,” she claimed, tone bitter, but underneath that, you could sense it was coming from a place of pain. 

     “about leaving, coral. i swear to you, i didn’t have a choice. my parents never told me anything, they made me pack the day we left. i tried writing, but they wouldn’t send my letters out,” you were about to cry, at this point. a part of coral wanted nothing more than to wipe your rising tears away and hold you close, forgetting about all the pain you caused by abandoning her. she could see where you were coming from, but her world had shattered when you left. the hole you left in her heart had been left to rot, filling with resentment. but as she witnessed you now, as heartbroken as she had been, the blame seemed to lift off of your shoulders.

     “so you didn’t leave me.. just like that?” coral asked. it was like a stab to the chest that she ever thought you would do that to her. coral had once expressed her fear of abandonment to you, and to her it appeared that you had gone and done just that. the girl, who just a moment ago stood defensive and closed off, now looked especially vulnerable.

     “i could never, coral. i loved you more than anything, still do. i never wanted to leave!” you expressed. coral dropped her stick, taking a small step closer to you. 

     “if… you mean that.. i missed you. it’s not the same back home without you,” she claimed, nodding her head slightly. you smiled sorrowfully. you had missed a lot in coral’s life, it felt like there was no possible way you could make up for lost time.

     “i’ve missed you too. here, eat, i brought you some food,” you invited, sitting down to get comfortable. you wanted to spend as much time with her as you could. coral was close behind, accepting the arrangement of food you slid her through the bars. she examined it, deciding which to try first “remember when we used to have picnics? on the weekends. we’d sit on the dock and just talk,” you reminisced as coral smiled at the memory, already stuffing her face with food. you were glad she was finally getting some sustenance for the first time since she had arrived.

     “the good ol’ days,” she joked, then proceeded to go silent for a few moments. “…what’s gonna happen when i have to go in there?” you didn’t think that through very well, too preoccupied with your reunion to remember who you had to thank for it- the capitol. maybe the source of all of your problems. you started to resent everything about the place you were forced called home. running away may have been the only option to get away from it all.

     “i’ll get you out of here. then we’ll leave, together. i promise.” you finally had her back, and there was no way you would be letting her go now.

[etaindelaserna]

Hello, hello...What do you think are KakaSaku and DraMione’s each greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic each?

(Hope you don't mind, that I copy the same questions from that same ask of that anon about SukuIta).

P.s Also can I ask your top 5 fav fics of those 2 ships? Please and thank you.....

Greetings!✨ Minding? Are you kidding me? I get to talk about my favourite characters and ships soooo let’s get down to it, shall we?

Kakashi is a genius in all ways that matter to become the perfect shinobi: he’s intelligent, capable of cold logic, perceptive, talented and has the will to perfect his skills. To me his greatest quality is to think fast and outside of the box. Not only does he analyse situations quickly but he also knows how to adapt his plans according to the changing variables.

Greatest weakness? Hmm…younger Kakashi certainly had more than one but older Kakashi? I think, since Naruto and Sasuke were the troublemakers with the greatest potential he focused — naturally — too much on them and forgot all about Sakura’s training. He knew she had the best chakra control among them and still abandoned her. Maybe he thought she would be fine without too much guidance but I think he underestimated her potential because she acted a typical teenaged girl.

Sakura is intelligent. She might not be a tactical genius like Kakashi but she definitely matches his analytical talent. It takes her till Shippuden to not only be good at analysing situations but to also come up with good plans. That and her chakra control make her formidable.

Her greatest weakness? I have to go with simping for Sasuke. On the one hand focusing on getting Sasuke back and not wanting to stand in his or Naruto’s shadow helped with her training, on the other hand it limited her options of what she wanted to do/achieve in life. We never find out. She had the obligation to do something with her talent apart from “stopping” and “loving” Sasuke and it was waaaaaasted.

KakaSaku

To me it made sense that in another universe or time or under different circumstances those two characters could have been close friends or more. They are both intelligent and nerds in their respective fields, which are traits Sakura — even when she was a Sasuke fangirl — appreciated. They are both kind and empathic characters with similiar values. I always had the impression that Sakura definitely would go for a partner, who matches her intellect and competence. Canon-wise Kakashi never invalidated Sakura’s feelings or made her feel bad about herself for not being or acting like the perfect shinobi. Instead he looked out for her, saved her or comforted her. I think the moment Shippuden rolled around he also respected her as a fully fledged shinobi. He acknowledged her skills but never stopped looking out for her in dangerous situations. Kakashi showed her the level of care and kindness her love interest should have given her. But since Sasuke couldn’t allow himself to have such bonds, the contrast between his behaviour towards Sakura and Kakashi’s was even more apparent. Not even Naruto was so soft with her:

The softness of that gesture... During the Kaguya fight we get more than one scene where they are both so soft with each other. Not to mention every time Sasuke acts like a dickhead we get a reaction shot like this from Kakashi:

Kakashi was always good a reading her. It looked like as if they had some sort of understanding of one another that didn't require a lot of words, probably because they are both very perceptive. Apart from that I think the difference in their temperament is the best combination for a power couple. They remind me of Minato and Kushina in that regard. He, the quiet, logical and kind one. She, the explosive emotional and intelligent one with too much doofus energy. Take that and their shared history and you have so many interessting arcs and story building elements you can explore.

Favourite Fanfictions:

I Found You Missing by Wolfy Tales

Unbroken by princezsupastar

Duty Before Honor by SilverShine

Will of Fire by Cynchick

Christmas Confessions by Cynchick

Draco always had a lot of potential. His intelligence and creativity as well as his love and commitment to his family are his greatest strength. I think during his attempt to kill Dumbledore all of these attributes are combined and show what Draco is able to accomplish if he sets his mind to it. He is a problem solver and is able to make connections that aren't obvious to other people.

His insecurity and need for recognition is what is holding him back. It's also what fosters his cowardness. For some reason he is the Malfoy heir and still feels the need to compensate for not living up to his father’s (?) expectations. He is also more tilted towards the easy way instead of working hard or taking responsibility.

Hermione is brilliant and very persistent. A deadly combination. When she has a clear goal in mind she is working rentlessly towards it. Sometimes even with no regard towards others. Her ambition, studies and her talent to think logical saved Harry and Ron more than once.

Greatest weakness has to be her disregard of other opinions. She can be close-minded and has a hard time accepting other views about the world, especially about topics she has already thought through. Everything she doesn't understand or isn't able to dissect with logic, is dismissed or questioned by her.

Dramione is an intriguing idea because on the one hand they are opposites of each other: the Malfoy heir and the girl next door, the pureblood and the muggle born, Slytherin and Gryffindor, Death Eater and Golden Girl. And yet they also mirror each other in various aspects: Draco makes fun of her blood status showing he his set in his view of the world but so is Hermione. Accepting other views is hard for her. Draco can be analytical and hellbent on achieving his goal. Similar to Hermione. He can be cruel but so is she. He knows exactly what to say to trigger people but so does she. They are both impulsive. He is insecure ablout himself as is she. He wants to be recognized as does she. You can ask so many story building questions with these setups alone — even when you don't count in both the canon and headcanon moments and the shared history of those two. The clashes of their personalities and ideals makes for pure entertainment and drama, but their similiarities and the conflict of them being on different sides of the war is what great love stories are made of. They play well off each other in every situation you throw them in. I always thought that Hermione needed someone who is as smart and ambitious as her, but who is also able to question her world views and who isn't afraid to push her limits. Also he would charm her with his ingenuity. As for Draco (and that's purly speculation on my part), I think he would've reacted well towards somebody, who values something other than the Malfoy name in him.

Favourite Fanfictions:

Inverse by Elesrea

Osculum Annuum by MyDelphi

The Green Girl by Colubrina

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8

Dragon’s Heartstrings by pinkinku

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

When I Get Home (Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ Angsty One Shot)

"Can really love a monster like me?"

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: In which Keigo realizes how truly lucky he is to have you by his side despite his refusal to open up to you and show you how deep his scars run, so he decides when he finally gets home from his stupid fucking mission, he’ll show you his scars, his heart, and everything more. 

Story Warnings: MAJOR MANGA/ANIME SPOILERS (BEWARE!), Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Angsty Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Arguing, Mentions & Use of Marijuana, High Sex, Shower Sex, Possessiveness, Scar Appreciation, Edge Play, Sensitivity, Marking, Biting, Foreplay, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Doggystyle, Mating Press, Begging, Vocal, Subby, Feral Hawks, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Facial, Wing-Stroking, Breeding Kink, Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Got another one shot for y'all and it's my first Hawks fic!! I love me some of that birb man. I was listening to Faith Evan's "Soon As I Get Home" & got inspired lol. Enjoy! AND FUCK ENDEAVOR. -Jazz

*********

Keigo hates the rain. 

It reminds him too much of his childhood days when he would aimlessly wander through the wet streets of his childhood home of Kyushu, looking for shelter and a place to lay his head and tired wings, too wet and weak to fly. 

A rainy night like this reminds him too much of those nights where he would escape his home to find solace in the streets, only to get nothing but some firsthand experiences of the hostility and black-heartedness of humanity: crime; abuse; violence. He’d find himself in the slums, surrounded by the degenerates of Kyushu, soaked to the bone in rain, shivering his poor little feathers off. 

But now, sitting and watching the sheets of rain fall along the city, his legs dangling off of one of the highest buildings in downtown Musutafu, he finds the rain a little comforting. Especially given his circumstances. 

He is in his hero gear, gloves, goggles and boots included. He isn’t sure why he decided to change into it before he left the penthouse, but something told him just to do it. After all, a hero’s job is never done. Maybe he just might get lucky and find himself stopping a robbery or a carjacking to distract himself. He’d need a lot of it to make himself feel less like shit for tonight. 

Whenever he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and the hurt in your pretty, brown eyes. Those eyes he wants to stare into forever. How could he hurt you so badly? How could a night that went as well as it could go at a charity ball end in such turmoil for the both of you? 

“Fuck,” he hisses, his head dropping into his hands as the memories of the past few hours begin to rewind in his head: 

“I just wanna know who she is to you,” you declared as you sat on the couch in your shared living room hours later. You were still in your gown from tonight–bright crimson to match Keigo’s wings, your hair curled to perfection and your heels making your legs look fantastic. He stared at you from the kitchen then while you unstrapped your Steve Madden heels, his hands itching to do it for you. 

“Why?” he asked, doing his best to not scoff at the question. “There’s nothin’ to tell, Y/N; I told you that.” As he headed into the kitchen, he loosened his tie with one hand and popped a button to his Armani button-down, glad to be out of his suit jacket and shoes. Though he looked good, he felt like a little kid being forced to dress for church. 

He went into the back where the walk-in pantry and wine cellar is to get himself a much-needed, chilled bottle of Merlot wine. When he returned to the kitchen, he glanced at you from across the marbled kitchen island. You were already staring at him from the living room, your red dress standing out against black couch.“But she isn’t a friend to you?” You asked, sounding agitated at his answer.“Or a coworker? You barely introduced me to her tonight, Keigo.” 

Now Keigo was agitated even though he shouldn’t have been. But damn, you always did this. You always tried to dig into him at the worst possible moments. Especially during a moment where all he’s trying to do is just relax after a night of acting.“Why the fuck does it matter?” He scoffed flippantly. 

Your eyes flared angrily at him.“First of all, don’t talk to me like that,” you sternly said, jabbing one acrylic nail at him.“You don’t have to be like that, okay? We’re just having a conversation here.” 

Keigo turned his back to you to get the corkscrew out the drawer next to the $800 stove with its electric stove top and Stirling steel oven.“No,” he argued, bumping his hip against the drawer to shut it.“What you’re doing right now is putting me on the spot when you know tonight took a lot out of me. You know I’m not built for shit like that wack ass fuckin’ ball, Y/N.” 

You gaped at him, dumbfounded.“I told you we didn’t have to go tonight, Keigo!” you protested, anger evident in your tone.“You wouldn’t listen to me!” 

You crossed those gorgeous legs over each other, the light glowing against your skin still shining with coconut oil. Keigo was initially excited to get you home tonight just to feast on those legs and perhaps fuck you in that dress before stripping it off of you. It was the only thing he had looked forward to for tonight despite being forced by the Hero Commission to attend that stupid charity ball to prove that Japan’s heroes were “conscious of civilians’ needs all over the nation”. 

It isn't that he hated charity. He wasn’t an asshole. He made sure to give his portion to hospitals, animal shelters, and homeless shelters all over Japan. He just hated being forced to put up with the annoying reporters and cameras in his face all night while he pretended to enjoy socializing with people that weren't his cup of tea and his nosey coworkers. 

He especially wasn’t looking forward to it when you had asked to go with him. He hadn’t ever taken you to a ball or any kind of event that was associated with his hero work in the time you’ve been dating him, but you understood the strict ways of the Hero’s Commission and how it was important for Keigo to keep up his “bachelor” image for as long as he could to gain more popularity. 

At least, that’s what you told him when he explained things to you. 

He had figured tonight wouldn’t be a big deal since security kept the paparazzi and reporters outside the venue, so he let you come along and met you inside the building after he was done dealing with the zoo animals with their note pads and microphones on the red carpet. 

However, he quickly realized how bad of a decision that was when his coworkers began swarming, asking him who “the beauty” was sitting with him; how you were; how long you two have been together; where he’s been hiding you at. 

And then, of course, Wanna had to show up. Fucking Kanna! Keigo would have rather had forgotten she existed, but there she was, in the flesh in her skin-tight dress with her publicist. She was a simple fling; a past summer he spent with a model before he met you. That was a different time for him. A time where he didn't give a fuck where he stuck his dick because he was desperate to rid himself of the nightmares for a night in someone’s bed. 

But seeing his past and his hopeful future interact the way you and Kanna did after Kanna made a show of throwing herself at Keigo and making conversation made him want to off himself right there. Especially when he saw your face when he didn’t introduce you to Kanna–disappointment; confusion; hurt. So much hurt. 

But you didn’t understand. And though you never will, Keigo knows that it is for the best.

“Correction: you didn’t have to go,” he cooly stated.“But I do! Are you forgetting I’m pro no. 2? Publicity matters. If I wasn’t there, the whole fuckin’ nation’s eyes would’ve been on me wondering where I was and coughing up shit for the next magazine cover.” 

He huffed to himself as he turned away from you once more to jab the screw into the cork to try and open the wine. When that didn’t work, he flung the cork screw away, nearly breaking it, and took the cork into his mouth. He pulled on the damn thing until it finally popped out of the nozzle. He then spat it out and reached above to grab himself a wine glass from the suspended wine glass rack before pouring himself a much-needed glass and taking a long gulp. 

As soon as the wine was in his system, he felt an inch better, but that anger at himself still chugged in his veins. Anger for not being real with you. For never telling you the truth. For never being the man you deserved. 

A tense silence coated the air between you in his penthouse. Ever since you started visiting since the first night you spent the evening with him in his bed, you’ve been here more than at your own apartment. Keigo doesn’t mind one bit. He feels so at home with you here, but even when you aren’t together, he feels at home with you….so why can’t he make you feel the same way? 

“Keigo, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally sigh.“I just felt like tonight you didn’t really want me there. I felt like you were embarrassed with me.” 

His eyes widen at the confession and fear grips him. ‘Oh, no,’ he lamented internally. ’Oh, no, no, no.’ That was the last thing he wanted to make you feel like ever. When he looked over at you, you had a despondent, oh-so sad look on your pretty, beat face. All because of his stupidity. “Why would you think that?” he all but whispers. 

“You barely looked at me,” you reply, your voice soft and defeated. “Barely touched me. Half of your coworkers didn’t even know you had a girlfriend, Kei.” 

Keigo pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought you’d been through this already.“You know why I can’t just go public with my relationships, Y/N. Don’t even start with this shit.” 

You stared at him for a moment, sizing him up, and for a moment, he thought you might start wilding on him. Your silence scared him even more though.“C’mon now,” he tiredly sighed. “It’s been a long night. Can’t we just forget tonight and roll somethin’ up?” He gave you a smile, hoping you’d say yes to some wine, some smoke, and some much-needed TLC after tonight’s events. 

But instead, you gave him a tight-lipped stare with a wall behind your eyes that made him realize that he’d be getting none of that tonight with you. He watched in utter defeat as you rose from the couch and strutted away upstairs to your bedroom, never turning to look back at him. 

When he heard the door slam behind you, he knew he fucked up. Epically. He put his head in his hands, feeling like screaming until his throat was raw, but he knew that would do nothing to fix this. This was a reoccurring problem between you two; one that always seemed to end in arguments and nights where he spent spent either on the couch or out among the skies. 

The truth was he wanted to desperately open up to you. He wanted to tell you why he hated every social event the Hero Commission forced him to attend. 

Why he hated the entire organization he worked for so passionately, but still allowed himself to be manipulated and exploited to save others. 

Why he had trouble sleeping and drinking habits. 

Why he never tells you about the past hookups and flings. 

Why he would sometimes smoke an entire bag of weed to rid himself of those horrible, itching thoughts of the past. 

Why he never visited his mother. 

Why he never visited Dabi in prison and who he was to you outside of a mortal enemy. 

Why he feels like he is undeserving of any success or good thing in his life. 

Why he hates himself. 

Why he doesn’t truly love himself at all. 

But he can’t lose you, and he knows if he were to ever reveal who he is behind the dazzling smile and charm, you would be gone for good. It’s better to keep those wounds closed anyway. 

You didn’t seem to think the same though. A half an hour later, while Keigo was sitting on the same couch you abandoned with his second glass of wine and the balcony door cracked to let in some of that cool spring air, you returned to the living room. You were out of your dazzling outfit from tonight, your face scrubbed free of makeup and only wearing one of his old shirts. You looked amazingly sexy to him like this. 

But he didn’t try to make a move or grab at you as you sat down. He didn’t even look at you. He knew you were there for a reason. You reached a hand out to stroke the burn scar that jet from the side of his jaw down to the column of his neck. “Your burn is healing,” you softly pointed out. “You know, you never really told me what happened to get you that.” 

Your fingers gently stroked his jaw, tentative and tender. “You never asked,” Keigo muttered, sipping on his Merlot. You leaned your head against the back of the couch, giving him a soft-eyed stare. “That’s ‘cause you’d never tell.” 

Keigo did his best to keep calm, but he hated this game you were playing with him. You were crossing a line with him here. He finally looked at you, accusingly.“What are you doing, huh?” He uttered, irked.“Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” You asked. “I’m only asking you a question, Kei.” You truly didn’t know which pissed him off even more. “No, you’re trying to act like you’re asking a question when really, you’re poking the bear and blowin’ my buzz.” 

His tone was harsh and so are his words, but they were enough to coax you to speak your mind. You sat up and hugged your knees to your chest as you stared at him.“You never tell me about your scars.” 

Keigo flinched at your statement and his ghosts of scars littering his body seemed to itch.“That’s not true.” 

“It is,” you protested, your voice strained. You sounded close to tears and that hurt him even more. “You never share anything with me. Nothing about your missions, your friends, your past, nothing. I feel like I barely know you and we’ve been together for a year!” 

The frustration you were feeling was evident in your voice. Keigo sighed, placing his wine glass down on the glass coffee table in front of him. He looked at you, noticing how exhausted you looked aside from your irritated: dark circles under your eyes, a tight jaw.“Y/N, it’s just hard, okay? It’s not that simple to just tell you shit like that.” 

“Even though I have?” you retorted harshly, tilting your head to give him a fixed, sideways stare.“I’ve told you everything about me from the jump, Keigo. Even the things I wouldn’t even tell my closet friend! Don’t I deserve the same transparency?” 

Keigo heaved an exhausted sigh and ran his hands down his face. In the darkness behind his hands, he saw Twice’s body go limb, the blade of Keigo’s sword impaling his body.“I’ve done some fucked up shit,” he whispered into his hands. 

You placed a hand on his back.“I’d never judge you,” you promised. "We all make mistakes and none of us are perfect.” 

‘But you are,’ he thought. You are more than perfect. Way too much for someone like him. “I just can’t, okay?” he huffed, moving away from your touch. He ignored the hurt in your eyes. “Some things are just too painful to go back to, and I’d think with as much as you love and respect me, you’d respect my decision to keep things to myself.” 

“Well, I don’t!” you shouted abruptly, standing up to glare down at him. “So…now what?” 

Keigo stared up at you, feeling a flood of emotions begin to swarm him: gratefulness for your determination and stubbornness; confusion as to why you want someone like him; and anger for your refusal to leave this alone. He just wants to protect you from the messiness of himself. Why can’t you see that? 

The words are out before he can stop them and he regrets having that second glass:“Why are you so hellbent on making me your fuckin’ project, huh?” he cooly asked you, his voice as cold as ice. 

Your glared softened a bit.“What are you talking about?” 

He stood up too, giving you a sharp glare that made all of the color in your face drain.“You look at me as this tragic hero you’re tryna fix, don’t you?” he snapped. “I may have the sob story that almost every fuckin’ pro has, but I’m not a puzzle for you to figure out and I don’t appreciate being seen as that.” 

You gaped at him, your mouth open agape.“Are you serious right now?” you scoffed incredulously.“Keigo, I’m only trying to get to you to know you. And you’re not a project or a puzzle–you’re an amazing, passionate man that I adore and I just want to fuckin’ know you!” 

The scream ripped from your throat after being buried under months of frustration and stress. Keigo could hear it as clear as day. He stood there, shocked, as you began to break down, your hands covering your face as you cried. 

“Is that too much?” you sobbed into the open air.“Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you let me see you?” He could see every ounce of frustration and hurt that he was causing you begin to take its toll, rolling down your cheeks in fat tears that plopped onto the cherrywood floor below your painted toes. 

Keigo immediately strode over to you and closed the gap between your bodies by wrapping his arms around you. He held you as you quietly sobbed into his chest, gripping his arms as you did. He felt horrible. He had never felt more like shit for making you feel like this.“I’m sorry,” he whispered.“It’s not that I don’t want to, baby bird. But I’m just too ugly.” 

You stared up at him, astounded at his confession. “Just trust me on this, okay? You’d need a fuckin’ team to help clean this mess up. I don’t want to burden you with that.” 

“But you’re not a burden!” you protested, tears in your pretty eyes.“You’re anything but a burden to me, Kei! I just wanna understand you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to stare at you.“Why do you feel the need to hide yourself from me?” You implored, begging him to answer. 

He groaned tiredly, gently taking your hands off of his face. “Y/N, just drop it, alright?” he implored. He turned, wanting to walk away from this entire situation. 

You followed, ever the stubborn one. “But why–“ 

“I said drop it!” Keigo bellowed, and his wings flared before he could stop them, his feathers sharpening to points. You frozen immediately, your eyes widening in fear like a deer in headlights. 

He and you were both shocked at Keigo’s sudden change in demeanor. He had never reacted this way towards you, because you were never perceived as a threat to him. But something in his hawk-like instincts saw you as one right now. In that brief moment, you were a villain to him, and that frightened him beyond words. 

Quickly, his muscles loosened and he fluffed his feathers out, lowering his wings down against his back. “Y/N,” he began softly, wanting to apologize. But it was too late. Instantly, you turned around and sprinted away from him until you were up the stairs and slamming the guest room door behind you once again. 

Keigo was left standing there, feeling like the worse person on the planet. And he was. His head began to fill with every negative thought that haunted him at night: You’re a loser. You’re a fake. You’re a horrible boyfriend. You don’t deserve her. You should just leave so she can find someone better. 

So what does Keigo do when his head is his worst enemy? He goes out and patrols. 

He finished his wine before heading upstairs to his bedroom and entering his walk-in closet to suit up. After putting on his hero gear, he passed by your room. Though the door is unlocked, he knocked anyway and waited for your little grunt of acknowledgement before he entered. You were sitting in the black armchair facing the small balcony of your guest room, your legs tucked against your chest. 

You didn't face him when he slid inside. “I’m gonna go out and patrol,” he said, getting right to the point. “You know the alarm code to turn it on, right?” 

“I’ve got it, Keigo,” you muttered numbly. “Just go.” You still didn’t look at him and it pained him greatly. “I’ll be back tonight as soon as I can,” he weakly said, trying to vain to ease the fire he caused. 

“Don’t bother,” you grumbled. “Just go. I’ll see you whenever you get back…if you decide to come back.” 

Realizing you were never going to acknowledge his presence, Keigo silently left your room, his heart breaking in two. He then strode over to the balcony in his living room, slipped out the door he left unlocked specifically for himself, and took off from the terrance, his crimson wings flapping into the night. 

He has been out here since, desperately trying to clear his head as he stares into the night and the rain. He stares up at the sky, watching the droplets fall. "Give me some answers here,” he pleads, not sure who he’s talking to–God; the rain; the universe. 

Almost as if he is heard, his work phone suddenly rings. He usually keeps it in the pocket of his hero gear pants, fully-charged, of course. 

He slips it out and looks down at the caller ID, finding the HPSC chief’s name on his screen. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. He knows that whatever it is, it can’t be good. He answers the call with an annoyed, “Hawks.” 

“We need you out and patrolling,” the HPSC chief bluntly said, his voice gruff and aggressive. “We got another tip on the villain that has currently been terrorizing the city since the beginning of the month. A couple of civilians reported that they spotted him near the bridge. We’ve already got Mirko and a couple of others down there patrolling in different areas. We need you to join in case he attacks and civilians may need help.” 

Immediately, Keigo rises from his spot on the building and cracks his neck. “Got it. I’ll be there in five.” As soon as he hangs up, he stretches out his wings and proceeds to head towards the bride that hangs above the Musutafu river, doing his best to fly among the pounding rain and thunder. 

When he finally makes it to the bridge, he finds himself breathless at the chaos: the bridge is completely cut in half, one of the sides slipping down into the murky depths of the blackened water below; vehicles slide across the apsault into the water as their passengers scramble to safety, being escorted by other heroes to the other side of the bridge that is still intact. Yellow, inflatable lifesaver boats bob against the black water below, either to catch anyone who falls or look for bodies. 

The villain has already begun his attack, Keigo realizes. He doesn’t see the guy now, but he knows he’ll have to put everything into stopping him if he’s this powerful and deranged with his quirk. He cannot be Keigo tonight. He has to be Hawks. 

But before he springs any further into action, he quickly flies over to the rocks several feet away from the bridge onto the river’s shore. The only things here are the waves, the rain, and him. His hands shake as he dials your number, tiny, wavering breaths leaving his lips. He doesn’t know why he feels so small and so scared right now, but something about this mission and leaving things with you the way they are don’t sit right with him. 

So he calls you. When you don’t pick up, he expects it, but even so, he wants to hear your voice before he goes into this fight. But at least you’ll be able to hear his. When the beep signals the beginning of his voicemail, he doesn’t have time to think of what to say. He just says it. 

“Hey, it’s me,” he sighs. “Hero's Commission called. They need me down at the bridge in case a villain attacks tonight. Supposedly, he’s been making trouble for over a month now and we’ve been trying to track him.” 

He trails off, his brain trying to think of what else to tell you. Anything he’s sure he’d regret not saying sooner if he happens to kick the bucket tonight. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, but if for some reason that doesn’t happen, just know that I’m so sorry I’m so fucked up.” He presses a fist to his pounding head, gritting his teeth in frustration. “I just don’t tell you about it, about me, because I don’t want you to worry and…” 

He pauses, gnawing at his bottom lip. The words push at his throat, threatening to rip from his chest. 

“Dammit, because I love you,” he declares, strained and his heart pounding as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “I’m so, so in love with you, and I’m so afraid that if I’m to ever tell you why I am the way that I am, you’ll never love me or want me in the same way. I…” 

He trails off, a sob leaving his mouth. He covers it at first, afraid someone might hear, but no one is around. No one but him. “I’m so scared you’ll leave,” he confesses, his voice wavering. “But I just keep pushing you away from me,” he says, his voice trembling. “I keep fucking this up for myself.” 

The dam behind his eyes breaks and he begins to softly sob to himself, keeping himself as quiet as he can so he doesn’t scare you. How lame to be crying to your girlfriend in a voicemail. 

But as quickly as it came, it vanishes and he pulls himself together. He clears his throat and takes his goggles off to wipe at his eyes. “This voicemail didn’t go the way I wanted it to,” he chuckles dryly. “Just know that this is how I feel about you and I promise I’ll be home.” 

Without another word, he ends the voicemail and stares out at the bridge. The sound of terrified and panicked screams echoes in the wind. Sounds of chaos. 

Keigo balls his hands into tight fists at his sides and pockets his phone. But not before turning it off entirely. 

************* 

“Just take a deep breath, honey,” your friend soothes you over the phone. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

“But what if it’s not?” you pitifully sob into the phone. “He’s out there right now, I have no idea where he is, and the last thing on his mind conscious is us fighting!” 

You’re sitting on the couch now in Keigo’s penthouse, still in his shirt. His coffee table is littered with a half-empty glass of wine, his opened bottle of Merlot that you started guzzling down, and bits of weed from the clumsy blunt you rolled for yourself to soothe your nerves. 

None of that helped you, so now you’re here, about to tear your hair out. When Keigo had left, you ventured out of the guest room to rummage through his wine and his weed since both aren’t hands-off for you. “Anything that’s mine is yours, baby bird,” he had told you a year ago when you had spent the night and forgot your toothbrush. He shared his with you with no problem. 

That was the first time you had spent the night with him after a magical date and some even more magical sex. You had fallen hard, and him even harder, since the first day he saw you, in fact. 

You had been walking to work, looking so pretty in your pink blouse and your work slacks with an ass that could stop traffic. It had stopped Keigo dead in his tracks. He was doing day patrols and had caught sight of you, causing him to lose track of his conversation with a police officer about the possibility of new villains. 

He didn’t catch up with you and spit game immediately as he usually did with women he was interested in. First, he flew alongside you at a distance you couldn’t see him to make sure you got to work safely. Then, after realizing you worked as an interior designer, he had pretended he was in need of renovating his agency. 

“I just need a little bit of color, y’know?” he said as he sat in your office, loving your smell and your eyes. “Like this pretty pink you’ve got on.” He eyed your blouse, smirking at the way you froze when you realized he was flirting. 

You had never been flirted with so openly before like that, especially by a pro. And especially by someone as sexy and as charming as Hawks. His boldness and confidence turned you on and you found yourself wanting more of him. When he asked for your card (for business purposes), you had agreed. The renovations for his agency never happened, but a date did. 

That was all just a year ago. Now here you are now, all stress and uncertainty and marijuana smoke in your lungs. “I should’ve never brought any of it up,” you lament. “I feel like a fucking asshole.” 

“Sweetie, you’ve been with the guy for a whole year!” your friend argues. “If he hasn’t opened up to you by now and shown you the him he is without the cameras in his face and his hero facade on, then he isn’t the one for you.” 

You know she’s right, but the idea of leaving Keigo pains you beyond words. You have too much invested into him to just leave when things get tough. You knew what you were getting into the moment you decided to embark on the journey of a romantic relationship with him since he happens to be a hero. 

You told him and yourself you were fine with the late nights where he’d be MIA and the missed calls. The constant wondering and worrying. The sneaking around and being discreet about your relationship for the sake of his status. 

All you want in return is some closeness. Some vulnerability. Something to make you feel like you’re wanted and cherished the way you want and cherish him. But he’s never given you any. You sometimes question if you’re asking for too much from him, knowing how hard his job is and how stressed he can be. 

But even so, the yearning to know his secrets still pushes at you every time he brushes off a new scar or tells you vague events of his past that end in him not wanting to talk about it anymore. And though you respect him enough to leave it alone, you know you need more. 

“Has he even told you he loves you?” your friend asks, bringing you back down to earth. 

You flush at her words. “We haven’t gotten there yet,” you reply, almost embarrassed by the fact. “I’ve been holding back telling him because I know his job is hard and…” 

‘And I don’t wanna scare him,’ you think. You know this is the longest relationship Keigo has had. You as well since your past relationships had never gone past a couple months or sex. But with Keigo, it’s different. You feel safe with him. You can be wholeheartedly and undoubtedly yourself. You love him, but you keep it inside. All to keep him comfortable. 

“Now what if I don’t get the chance to tell him at all?” you ask, quickly beginning to cry again. Every word left unspoken begins to bubble at your throat, coming out in anguished sobs. 

“Okay, stop,” you friend firmly says. “First off, put down any alcohol or smoke ‘cause it’s making you paranoid.” You eye the wine and the weed littering the coffee table. 

“Second, Keigo is going to come home to you. He just went out for a breather and he’ll be back. Plus, he’s a smart guy and he’s a pro! He knows how to get himself out of any kind of situation.” You listen to your friends word, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. “I guess you’re right,” you weakly say. 

“I am right,” she states with conviction. “Just rest for now and when he comes home, give him time to decompress. Then tomorrow, you can apologize and talk about what happened. Simple, right?” 

You nod, but even as you try to persuade yourself that your friend’s words are true, you still feel that twist in your gut at the idea of tomorrow. What if he isn’t here tomorrow? What if you pushed him so hard that he left? Or what if something worse has happened? 

“Just sleep, honey.” Your friend’s words drift to your ear again like a prayer; beacons in the void of darkness. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

Though you don’t really believe her, you do as she says anyway. After she hangs up, you clean up the living room and venture back to your guest room to sleep off your frustrations. The effects of the wine and the blunt combined with the aftermath of crying hit you immediately, making it easy to drift off to sleep. 

You sleep for over three hours until you awaken in the darkness of the guest room. Groggily, you look at the clock: 2:04 AM. Immediately, you reach for your phone which you put on ‘do not disturb’. There, on the screen, are one missed call and one voicemail from Keigo. 

Your heart skips a beat and the fogginess of sleep leaves your head as fight the urge to ignore it. This could be important. You click on the message and put it on speaker, placing your phone flat on the bed. You bring your knees to your chest and hug yourself, tucking your nose into Keigo���s shirt collar and breathing in his cologne. 

The beginning of the message is disoriented and loud, the sound of the wind cutting through before you hear Keigo’s beautiful, wonderful voice. As soon as you hear him, you’re calm. 

“Hey, it’s me. Hero's Commission called. They need me down at the bridge in case a villain attacks tonight. Supposedly, he’s been making trouble for over a month now and we’ve been trying to track him.” 

Your heart drops into your stomach. A villain attack. Of course! That’s why he isn’t home yet. “Oh, my God,” you fearfully whisper, covering your mouth. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, but if for some reason that doesn’t happen, just know that I’m so sorry I’m so fucked up. I just don’t tell you about it because I don’t want you to worry and…” 

He trails off and you swear, your soul leaves your body as you anticipate his next words. But nothing could’ve ever prepared you for them. As soon as you hear those three little words that mean so much to so many, your breath hitches and you come back to life, feeling like you’ve been dead all night: 

“Dammit, because I love you. I’m so, so in love with you, and I’m so afraid that if I’m to ever tell you why I am the way that I am, you’ll never love me or want me in the same way. I…I’m so scared you’ll leave.” 

His voice begins to tremble and waiver, hitching as he begins to cry. You’ve never heard him cry before. Your heart aches for him, your body desperate to be against his. 

“But I just keep pushing you away from me. I keep fucking this up for myself.” 

“No,” you whisper, beginning to cry yourself. The fact that he’s felt this way for so long, suffering in silence, is a reality that is worse than anything you could’ve imagined. 

Finally, he clears his throat and you know that the end of the voicemail is near. “This voicemail didn’t go the way I wanted it to. Just know that this is how I feel about you and I promise I’ll be home.” 

When the voicemail ends, you sit there in silence, the newfound information processing in your brain. All you can think about is one thing that you still cannot believe is a fact as true as day: ’He loves me. He really loves me.’  

Suddenly, everything makes sense and the world is clearer to you. All the uncertainty and doom you felt have vanished, replaced with a fluttering in your heart that belongs only to Keigo. Delirious with need, you jump out of bed and immediately go to his bedroom to search for his sweatpants and a hoodie. ‘I have to go find him. I need to see him.’ 

You don’t know where he is or where he could be calling from, but if there is a villain attack then social media will have the first place to search. As you venture into Keigo’s master bedroom to search for clothes, preparing to fight the rain and the city’s chaos to find him, a sound stops you. 

It is the sound of the click of the lock to the balcony doors. Then the sound of the doors as they slide back. 

“Hawks,” you immediately whisper to yourself. Then, louder, “Hawks!”, as you immediately race out of the bedroom to the living room just in time to see him walking through the doors after landing on the terrace. 

“Keigo!” you gasp, every emotion hitting you at once watching him in the dark living room. The only light is from the big, silver moon illuminating Keigo while the rest of him is shrouded in darkness. 

“Hey,” he tiredly greets you as he shuts the door behind him. You feel like God as blessed you bringing him home in one piece. Now, you can really tear into his ass. “God, why didn’t you call and tell me you’d be back?” you snap, not daring to let him rest for a second. “I’ve been worried sick about you! I was gonna…” 

Your words die in your throat when the overhead light that automatically switches on according to body movement flicks on, coating the room in a golden glow that shines right on Keigo and the fresh bruises and scratches he’s sporting. He doesn’t look that bad, but you can tell his right eye socket is swelling and his wings look ragged and worn “Keigo,” you softly gasp, the word almost getting caught in your throat. That’s all you can begin to say. 

“You listen to my voicemail?” he asks curiously, but not rudely. You nod slowly, mouth still open in awe. “A villain destroyed the bridge and nearly had every vehicle on there goin’ into the river. He has the ability to extend his limbs, so he made a couple of other extended arms and legs to go along with ‘em.” He huffs in annoyance. “Motherfucker looked like Doc Ock from Spiderman.” 

“Is everyone okay?” you softly ask. 

“After a couple of my coworkers and I got to the guy, yeah,” Keigo replies, kicking off his boots. He places his goggles on a nearby table. “First, I had to fetch as many bodies as I could that the fucker kept flingin’ over the bridge to taunt me. Gang Orca and Eraserhead took care of the rest of the civilians once I caught up to the villain. Then it was just us vs. him. Once Eraserhead got near him, he took the fucker's quirk and the cops put him in handcuffs.” 

“That’s good,” you reply, relief filling you. Mostly at the fact that he’s still here, alive and breathing. Silence falls between you, tense and filled with unspoken words. You nervously wriggle your fingers, feeling small under Keigo’s unwavering gaze. “Listen, Kei,” you nervously begin. “I’ve been goin’ crazy in here ever since you left and I’m so, so sorry for–“ 

Keigo suddenly puts up a hand to silence you. Your words abruptly cut off and you button your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. You wonder if he can hear how loud it is because you sure can. It is pumping wildly in your ears, making you even more of a nervous wreck. 

“Since you got my voicemail, you probably already know a lot of what I’m about to say, but I’m goin’ to tell you properly because you deserve it.” He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. You stay silent and patient, waiting for him to come to grips with whatever he is fighting. “I suppose I should be grateful that eight-armed dickhead decided to cause commotion tonight,” he dryly chuckles. “I had went out to clear my head; to distract myself. What better way to do all that than to kick some ass and save some lives?” 

He unzips his jacket and lets it fall to the floor, revealing his shirt and toned arms underneath. “But while I was doin’ all of that, other than thinking about stopping that villain and saving the innocent lives of all of those people, all I could think about tonight was you.” 

His gaze soften as he looks at you. Your heart pumps a bit faster. 

“I thought to myself, ‘when I finally put this motherfucker behind bars, when my mission is finally done, I’m going home’.” 

He steps toward you, eyes still locked with yours, never wavering. It makes you tremble in your position. “‘And as soon as I get home, I’m falling to my knees, begging for forgiveness, and showing my baby all of me and more because she fucking deserves it’.” 

He takes another two steps toward you before suddenly dropping to his knees in front of you. “So this is me doin’ all of that now. Plus, showing you how much I love you.” 

He leans toward you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so his face is pressed into your stomach. You stare down at him in awe, unable to speak. You’re afraid that if you do, the moment will disappear and so will he. 

“I never said I before,” Keigo continues, “because I was afraid it wasn’t the right time or I’d end up fucking everything up for myself. Plus, loving someone always seems to backfire on me.” He strokes up your thigh, holding onto your hip. “So I kept it in, just like everything I haven’t told you yet.” 

His hands, so careful yet so strong, trail up your hips and ball into his shirt, gripping the fabric. When his hands and shoulders begin to tremble, you realize he’s crying. You’ve never seen him cry before. It is a sight you never want to see again. 

“I’m a mess, Y/N,” he tearfully says. “When we met for the first time, I never wanted you to see any of that. I didn’t even want this to turn into what it is now, but I’m so, so grateful it hasn’t.” He looks up at you, eyes red and wet with tears. “I’m so happy you didn’t leave.” 

Your heart wrenches at the sight of your boyfriend–so sad and so broken. How is a person as bright-eyed and confident as Hawks also someone like this? He must have hid all of this from you for some time. You wrap your arms around his neck, cupping the back of his head in one of your hands. “Keigo, I’d never leave you.” Your fingers caress his blonde curls, stroking his head softly. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise me that,” he croaks, shaking his head. “How do you know you won’t get tired of me? How do you know I won’t scare you off?” 

“Keigo, you’re scaring me now,” you confess, feeling your own fresh set of tears beginning to make an appearance. “I’m scared we won’t make it because you refuse to open up to me.” 

Keigo’s expression changes to one of confusion, his eyes narrowing as he scowls at you. “So you’re telling me that if I tell you all about my childhood, you promise you won’t leave?” he asks, a bite in his voice. “If I tell you about the abuse, the trauma, the shit I witnessed from my own parents, being stripped of my name when the Hero’s Commission picked me up, learning that the same man who saved me and inspired me to become a hero is a fuckin’ abuser, you’d stay?” 

You stare down at him, dumbfounded and horrified. You never knew any of this, though you did know the part about Endeavor since it was all over the news. But that other stuff? Keigo kept entirely to himself, leaving you in the dark. 

“What about the scars?” He moves away from you slightly to strip himself of his shirt, revealing a very impressive, toned upper body and a slew of scars–some new and some healed. “All the training I forced to undergo by the Hero Commission. Some that have barely healed from nearly dying during missions. This burn here that I got tryna save a fuckin’ villain.” 

He points at the burn on his jaw and your stomach lurches. “Twice?” you ask, your eyes wide. “You tried to save Twice?” You know a little bit about this event, mostly because it was publicized everywhere and Keigo was forced to tell you some of what happened after he had nightmares. But now that a year has gone by and most of the LOV have been arrested, it has become old news. People have moved on. 

But Keigo obviously hasn’t. He visibly cringes at the sound of Twice’s name, the trauma still fresh. “And what about him?” He demands, his voice cracking. “What about the fact that I fucking killed him?” 

“Keigo, he was a villain,” you firmly respond, taking his hands into yours. “You gave me a chance. He didn’t take it.” 

But this isn’t enough to calm Keigo down. He crumbles again, his lips trembling and eyes welling with tears. You instantly wrap your arms around him and hold him, cradling his head. “I feel like a fucking monster, Y/N,” he sobs into your stomach, gripping you for dear life. “I feel like I’m drowning and I’m gonna pull you right in with me. I don’t want that. I just wanna make you happy…” 

His fingers slide under your shirt to expose your stomach and he presses his face there, wetting your skin with tears. “Can you really love a monster like me?” he whispers against your skin. 

He begins to cry again, his body wracked with sobs and soft whines that tear at your soul. A lone tear drips down your face as you continue to cradle your boyfriend like he’s a child. And right now he is–he’s the exact neglected, abused, broken child he alluded to minutes before. You picture him as a little boy, roaming the streets of his home, doing anything and everything to survive because no one cared enough to care for him. You’ll make sure that never happens again. You swear it. 

Gently pushing him away from your stomach, you take his hands into yours and join him on the floor. He stares at you in awe, eyes red and face wet. “I have two answers for you,” you gently coo, smoothening his hair back. “To answer your first question is yes, I promise I’ll stay as long as you show me everything.” 

You cup his jaw and caress the burn scar. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, tears sparkling on his blonde lashes. “I want it all, Keigo: the scars; the bruises; the wounds. Tell me every secret you have; every dream and aspiration; every fear that keeps you up at night.” 

You lean in to kiss the burn then his bruised eye. “Let me take all of it, especially your pain.” You continue to kiss his face before trailing down to his neck and shoulders; his arms and collarbone; his chest and pert nipples. You kiss every bruise, scar, and burn you find, your fingers trailing over them. You treasure every soft moan and gasp he lets out, happy to have them over sobs and whines of anguish. 

“I don’t wanna fix you–I just wanna water you; nurture you; watch you grow the way you’ve done me.” You look at him then, cupping his face in your hands. “I just wanna love you the way you deserve to be loved.” 

His eyes widen an inch at your confession. “Yes, I love you, Keigo,” you softly giggle. “That’s my answer to your second answer: yes, I can love a monster. But you’re not a monster, Keigo. You’re just a human, even with these big ass wings.” 

You gently tickle a wing with your fingers, making him laugh under his breath. “You’re an intelligent, strong, beautiful man who deserves every inch of my love,” you whisper to him as you lean toward him, nuzzling your face into his neck. You breathe in his scent of sweat and cologne, committing it to memory. 

Keigo holds you to him, cradling your head to his neck. His hold on you is fierce and passionate, validating his feelings for you even before he utters them. “I really love you, you know that?” he whispers against your ear. Your heart jumps and a joyful grin stretches across your face. You look up at him, tracing every single feature of his pretty face with your eyes. “I do now,” you softly reply. 

He smiles at this, the act finally reaching his beautiful eyes. You trail your thumb over his bottom lip, your stomach curling at the plumpness of it. “Wanna smoke?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow. 

At the mention of rolling up, Keigo’s wings ruffle excitedly and you giggle. “I thought you’d never ask,” he sighs, sounding like he needs it. With no hesitation, you help him to his feet and proceed to set up. You ask him to roll the blunt which he does, his fingers and tongue working expertly to tighten the blunt in a way you can’t. But then again, Keigo has always been good with his hands and mouth. 

After he finishes, you begin to pass the blunt back and forth between each other as you play your music from your phone, the sound of SZA filling the living room. Soon, you’re feeling light as a feather and high as a kite. Your body and mind are relaxed, especially feeling the solid chest of your man underneath you as you lie against him. 

The blunt lays on the ashtray on the coffee table now, smaller now after use. You reach for it and pinch it between your index and thumb before taking a puff, the end of the blunt turning red like an angry firefly. As soon as the smoke hits your lungs, you’re falling deeper into that sea of bliss. You look up at Keigo, finding his eyes fluttered closed. At first you think he's sleep, but his arm circling around your waist tells you different. “Feelin’ good, Kei, baby?” you coo to him, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. You desperately want to kiss them. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, a content smile on his pretty face. The sight makes you giggle. You start to laugh even more when he suddenly circles his other arm around you and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t want you to leave,” he mutters to you as he grips your waist, firmly holding you to him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his forehead. “You have me,” you whisper to him. He looks up at you, eyes slightly red and glinting with adoration for you. “And you have me,” he replies, soft conviction in his voice. 

“Promise?” you utter hopefully. He slowly nods, staring at you the same way you do him: intensely; adoringly. Your fingers trail up his chest, his heart pounding underneath your fingertips. ‘He’s real,’ you think. ‘And all mine. And I need him.’ 

The want and need for Keigo and his body dawns on you quickly, quickly taking its toll on you. Your nipples harden and your thighs squeeze together as you begin to strip him out of his clothes with your eyes. “Prove it then,” you demand, need crawling into your voice. “Prove how much you love me. Prove to me that things will be different.” 

Realization alights behind Keigo’s eyes and his expression darkens slightly. It excites you. He coaxes you off of his lap before standing to meet you. “Come here,” he coos, already taking your hand in his. “Let’s get cleaned up.” You nod, excitement and anticipation filling your core with warmth as he leads you up the steps and straight down the hallway to his master bedroom. 

Keigo has over four bathrooms in his penthouse: in his bedroom, guest room, down the hall, and living room where his washer and dryer sit closest to the kitchen. The bathroom in his bedroom is by far the most beautiful, complete with marbled sink counters, a whirlpool tub, and a walk-in shower with a sliding glass door and one of those shower heads that make the water look like a rainforest waterfall. 

You watch, trembling in anticipation as Keigo gets the shower ready. He makes sure it’s at the right temperature to warm you up but not burn you before turning to face you, lust in his eyes. He then begins to undress himself, taking everything off until his hero gear is on the floor and he’s standing before you, completely bare. 

You’re silent, unable to speak. You’re too tongue-tied at the sight of your man’s body displayed before you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Keigo is not extremely buff, but he still has some impressive muscles, including well-defined abs and a V-line that trails down to his tufts of darker blonde curls that you desperately want to venture towards. His gorgeous, muscled body is unfortunately scarred as well, fresh bruises and cuts coating his skin from the mission he just completely tonight. In addition, he still has scars from where Dabi burned him a year ago, the skin tight and pruned. You feel tears prick your eyes, realizing that it’s quite possible that you would’ve never seen his gorgeous body again. 

You close the gap between you and lay your hands flat on his chest. With your eyes locked with his, you begin to kiss every single old scar and bruise that adorns his soft, tanned skin. You’re careful with those that look fresh, making sure to skip those and focus on the ones that have been on Keigo’s body for months if not years. 

As you do, you find pleasure in the tiny sighs and groans that leave his lips, knowing he’s enjoying this TLC. It makes you feel good to know you’re making him feel good. You want him to know you enjoy every single part of him, no matter if he’s scarred or not. You think he’s beautiful. 

Finally, he pulls you away and gives you an excitably, darkened stare. You know what he wants now. Quickly, you go to strip yourself of his shirt, but he stops you. “Let me,” he gently orders, and you let your arms go limp at your sides. He presses his lips to yours and pulls you into a passionate, wet kiss as his hands slide up under his shirt. 

You softly moan into his mouth as you feel his hand on your bare skin. “You look so fuckin’ good in my clothes,” he whispers against your lips. “Even when you’re pissed at me, you still wear my shit.” 

He brings the shirt up more, exposing your panties, stomach, and bare breasts to him. He groans as he pulls the shirt up over your head and flings it across the bathroom before ducking down to play with your tits. He latches one of the hardened peaks of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around. 

You moan a little louder, your hands grasping his shoulders. “Missed you,” you softly utter, biting back another moan as his tongue teases your hardened nipple. He peers up at you, smiling. “I missed you too, baby,” he whispers. “So much.” He presses his lips to your other breast, his fingers sliding down your sides. “M’so sorry for everything. I never should’ve pushed you away. I–“ 

“Hush,” you say, pressing a hand to his cheek. He looks up at you, regret in his eyes. “Show me how sorry you are now.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he stands and takes your hand to walk you into the steaming-hot shower. As soon as you are under the jets of hot water, Keigo pushes you against the tiled wall and presses a passionate kiss to your lips. 

You moan softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer to you; as close as he can possibly be. He puts one hand above your head against the wall as he begins to grind his hips into yours, his pelvis pressing delightfully up against your clit. You whimper into his neck as he continues to move against you, his lips caressing your neck and that spot behind your ear that makes your pussy wet and your nipples tingle. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he coos. “So beautiful…so sexy…and you’re so mine.” 

The feeling is too much. It overpowers you, making you delirious with need. “I’m all yours,” you practically sob. “Please, Kei; don’t tease me.” 

Keigo moves his head away from your neck to smirk at you. “And so impatient,” he chuckles. His hand sneaks between your thighs where he presses his index and middle fingers between your pussy lips. You gasp at the sensation of his touch, your clit jumping against his palm. “Naughty girl. You’re already wet for me,” he groans. “I suppose you’ve been waitin’ long enough though. Time to show you how sorry I am.” 

After sucking on his fingers, he proceeds to get onto his knees and press his lips against your inner thigh before showering your pussy in kisses that quickly turn into open-mouthed sucks and licks that have you seeing stars. Your hands grab his shoulders, gripping them tightly as his tongue licks every bit of your pussy up, his lips pillowy-soft against your clit. “Fuck, Keigo,” you moan, leaning your head back against the shower wall. “You’re so good at this.” 

Keigo moans into your pussy in response, lashing his tongue in different shapes across your clit. When he suddenly hooks your leg over his shoulder, you squeak in surprise. He looks up at you, eyes shining and a love-drunk look on his face. “I’ve got you, baby,” he coos, staring up at you lovingly. “You know I do, don’t you?” 

Then he’s diving back in, one hand gripping your thigh hiked up to his ear and the other holding you steady by your hip. You’re losing your shit, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder for dear life. “Shit, Kei!” you cry out, your cries of ecstasy echoing off the shower walls. “Fuck, baby, that feels so…oh, my God!” 

Meanwhile, Keigo won’t shut the fuck up about how amazing and pretty your pussy is. “You have the prettiest fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he coos into your clit, his words slightly muffled. “You’re always so open n’ wet for me. How could I ever neglect this cunt?” 

His words ignite something in you that have you crumbling, all self-control abandoned. The porn-worthy sounds slipping from your lips are drowned out from the sound of the shower as Keigo continues to go waaaaay down south, never letting up. It doesn't take long for that knot in your core to begin to tighten, signaling your oncoming orgasm. “I’m close!” you whimper. “So close! Don’t stop!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo mumbles into your pussy, still flicking that magical tongue. But when he inserts a finger and curls it up against your G-spot, you just about see God. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he practically begs you, his finger encouraging you further. “Cum for me. Cum all over my face.” 

Your eyes close, plummeting you into darkness as your peak begins to dawn closer and closer the faster Keigo’s finger fucks you. “Please, baby,” he pleads. “I need you. Need all of you.” He dives back into your pussy, sucking on your clit softly in time with his finger stroking your insides and your G-spot. 

Finally, finally, you fall off that hill and cum all over your man’s face as requested. Keigo moans and whines in appreciation as you scream his name, nearly losing your voice. He grips your hips with such force that you can’t move as he licks you clean, his tongue carefully licking over and around your sensitive pussy. When he finally pulls away, his hair is wet and his face gleams with your cum. 

You help him up and clean his face off, running your thumbs over his plump lips. “That was amazing,” you breathlessly giggle. Keigo smiles proudly at you, happy with the praise. “I try.” 

You press a passionate kiss to his mouth, rendering him speechless afterwards. “Now, it’s your turn.” A newfound boldness courses through your veins as you press down onto his shoulders, forcing him to sit down on the bench. “You sure, baby bird?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to–“ 

“Nah,” you interrupt him firmly. “I’m gettin’ that dick down my throat and you’re gonna enjoy every single second of it.” You settle down onto your knees in between his thighs, your hands trailing up his legs. “My amazing, intelligent hero deserves it.” 

Keeping your eyes locked with his, your nails gently graze up and down his thighs, earning a shiver and a delicious moan that escapes his luscious mouth. His cock quickly hardens even more between his legs, dripping with pre-cum all for you. Without wasting anymore time, you wrap your hand around the base of his length and begin to light peppering his dick in kisses, playing close attention to the sensitive spot at the underside of his cock. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes fluttering closed. You stare up at him, his dickhead in your face, near your lips. “You deserve all of this, honey,” you coo before you wrap your lips around his cock. You take your time with sucking him off, starting by sucking on the pink dickhead as you slowly pump your hand up and down, spitting onto his dick if necessary. 

By the time you take him deeper into your mouth, Keigo’s dick is nice and slick with water and your spit, allowing him to easily slip into your mouth. You continue to pump him up and down, stroking the rest of the length that you can’t fit in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his head and along his dick, loving how warm his skin is, his masculine scent, and the taste of salt on your tastebuds. You commit all of it to memory, including his beauty face etched in pleasure. 

You take a bit more of him, your mouth stretching around his thick cock, but you don’t do it enough to hit the back of your throat. Not yet. Keigo is in his world. His blonde brows are knitted together in concentration while his chest heaves up and down. His hand immediately goes to your hair as he watches you bob your head up and down on his cock. “Just like that,” he hisses. “Such a good girl. So good for me.” 

His hand travels to the back of your head and gently pushes you down, causing his dick to slip farther into your mouth. You feel him hit the back of your throat finally, causing you to gag and your eyes to water. He keeps his hand on your head as you begin to gag on his cock, your throat pumping up and down, back and forth. 

Despite the year you’ve been with him, you still can’t believe how big he is. He practically fills your throat, stretching out the wet, inner walls until your jaw aches and your eyes begin to tear. But you do it for him and those lovely sounds dripping from his lips. “Fuck, baby bird!” He groans through gritted teeth. “So good! Such a good little slut for me!” His toes curl beside your naked thighs, his hand in your hair and gripping it tightly. 

You continue to give him the Glock Glock 3000, taking extra care to fondle his balls with your other hand. He loves that. He’s a whimpering, whining mess as you continue your work, working him so good that he’s seeing stars. You want to show him you can take everything. 

Finally, he growls deep in his throat and wrenches your head away from his dick. “Enough,” he firmly says. You gasp as you pop off of his dick, a string of saliva following him in his wake as he pulls his dick out of your mouth that droops from your bottom lip. 

You softly pant, catching your breath but also to calm yourself down. You’re becoming hornier by the second. Your pussy is wet and wanting, desperate to be filled, leaving you to rub your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Keigo’s eyes are blown with lust, filling you with excitement and a slight twinge of fear. “Get up,” he demands. 

You oblige and stand on shaky legs. You fortunately don’t have to move on your own. Keigo does the work for you. In an instant, he is behind you with his hands on your hips, forcing you to bend forward. With a squeak, your hands fly to the shower wall and your back arches, presenting your ass and dripping cunt to your boyfriend. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, giving your ass a sharp smack that echoes off the shower walls. “Yeah, you like this, don’t you?” He hisses, spanking you again. “Nobody could ever make you feel like this, could they?” 

You whimper, the stinging of his spanks making your pussy tingle. He spanks you again, harder this time, and you yelp. “I didn’t hear that, gorgeous,” he snickers. “Louder for me.” You whimper when you suddenly feel his cock slide against your pussy, nudging your sensitive clit. 

“Yes!” you wail out. “No one makes me feel like you do, daddy!” You turn to look at him, arching your pretty ass further into him and whining your hips around for him. “Please, please fuck me, Kei. I can’t take much more!” Keigo watches your hips and ass, slowing growing more and more needy by the second. 

“Fuck!” The word leaves his lips in a hiss. He instantly grabs your hips, lines his dick up, and sinks inside of you. Finally home. A gasp falls from your open mouth as he sinks in deeper, stretching you out. No matter how many times you do this with him, you’ll always feel full with him. 

Keigo holds your hips and slowly begins to roll his hips into you, sending your clit into hyperdrive with pleasure. You’re a mess at this point, grinding your ass back into him despite his slow pace. “Keigo,” you whine in need. 

Keigo chuckles, still rolling his hips, his dick pumping in and out of you slowly. “Patience, baby. I wanna make it last.” He suddenly lets go of your hips and grabs your tits, squeezing them in his palms and emitting gasps from you. 

“You’re mine, you understand?” He growls into your ear. “You’re. Fuckin’. Mine.” Each word is punctuated by sudden, rough trusts that make your eyes blow and your mouth fall open in a wordless, pleasured O. Now Keigo begins to go faster, snapping his hips forward as the water continues to fall around you in sheets. The only sounds are of the water hitting the shower floor, skin slapping against wet skin, and your breathless moans and gasps of pleasure as Keigo continues to pummel your cunt. You go to rub your clit as he does, but he shoos it away and does it for you, rubbing the bud in time with his relentless thrusts. “No, no, no, baby,” he coos into your ear. “I told you you're mine. Which means this is my pussy too.” 

His other hand suddenly moves to your leg and lifts it up, just enough for you to feel his cock sink deeper into your walls. “Oh, my God!” you holler, your head falling back in pure ecstasy as Keigo continues to fuck you silly with your leg up and his hand on your clit. “Shit, Kei, I’m gonna cum soon!” 

You can feel your orgasm quickly building, that knot in your core about to snap. Keigo moves his body closer to yours and pushes it against the wall, causing your tits to squish erotically against the wet shower door. “Do it, baby,” he growls into your ear, his breath fanning over your face. “Cum for me. Cum all over this dick. Your dick.” 

His words send you over the edge. You tumble down that hill hard and fall into a sea of bliss as your second orgasm washes over you. All you can say is his name and God’s name in vain as you cum all over his cock that has begun to replace its fast pumps with slow strokes, Keigo’s hips doing wonders behind you. 

Keigo holds you to him as you continue to cum, breathlessly moaning into your ear. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he whispers, peppering the side of your face in kisses. “So tight…gonna make me cum soon too…” 

“Do it,” you beg him. “Please cum for me. Cum inside me, daddy.” 

You’re delirious with need for him, all logic going out the window. You and Keigo have always been careful, leading to him usually pulling out before cumming even though you’re on the pill. But after tonight, you want to feel all of him. 

“No.” Keigo’s voice is firm and deep, almost a monstrous growl. It renders you speechless as he suddenly slips out of you and places your leg down. Before you can process what’s happening, he twirls you around and scoops you up into his arms. 

You squeak in surprise at the sudden action, but say nothing as he slides the bathroom door open and exits the shower, causing the water to cut off. He is swift and quick as he makes the trip from his bathroom to his master bedroom. He wastes no time tossing you onto the bed. You gasp as you bounce slightly against the mattress, still wet and naked from the shower. 

When you finally settle onto your back, you stare up at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” you ask, a little giggle leaving your lips. But you stop when you get a good look at him. 

In the dim light of the moon that shines through the window, Keigo looks less than human: his eyes are a dark gold and glowing brightly as he stares down at you, his crimson-colored wings fluffier and frazzled as if someone has touched them too much and caused them to become oversensitive. Gone is the Keigo you know, replaced with a man starving for release and you. 

He suddenly gets on top of you, pinning your hands over your head with one hand. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, baby girl,” he softly growls to you. “I’m gonna put your pretty ass into a mating press. Then I’m gonna fuck you deep, hard, and fast until I spray my cum all in that pretty lil’ pussy of yours. Then, when I’m done, I’m gonna pull out and spray you in the rest of it so people will know you’re mine. And you’re gonna like all of it and take all of it like my good little slut.” 

He leans down so his nose is pressed against yours, his face like a full moon emerging in the sky. “Is that clear?” he gutturally asks. 

Fear and arousal curl in your stomach, chasing each other around so one can be dominating your body and mind. You don’t know how you manage to speak–your mouth is so dry–but you do. A tiny “yes, daddy” leaves your lips as your pussy throbs and begs for him. “I understand,” you whisper. “Please fuck me.” 

That is all Keigo needs. In a blink of an eye, your legs are thrown over his shoulder and he’s sinking his cock deep inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as he fills you to the brim, so deep that his balls hit your ass and his pelvis presses against your sensitive clit. You swear he’s never been so deep inside of you before. You can almost feel him in your stomach! 

Keigo leans down so you’re face to face, chest to chest. “Can you feel me, baby?” he coos against your lips. “Is it too much for you? Am I fillin’ that poor pussy up too much?” 

You whine in response, your hands gripping his shoulders. He wolfishly grins down at you, loving your submissive, dumb little state. “Don’t worry; you can take it. You’re a big girl, right?” He begins to rut into you, hips snapping against yours and cock pumping deep into your pussy. “Right?” he growls, purposely angling his hips to aim at your G-spot. 

You’re seeing the entire galaxy now, your pussy spasming around his dick that mercilessly strokes your walls. When he begins to slow down to tease you, you open your mouth to cuss him out, but all that leaves is a high-pitched, incoherent whine. Keigo laughs right in your face, loving this shit.

‘Bastard,’ you think, the only clear thought in your dicked-down, fucked-out mind that isn’t the pleasure or the scent of your boyfriend. ‘Two can play at this game, bitch.’ 

You then take two of your fingers and proceed to lightly stroke Keigo’s feathers, taking extra care to touch each overly-sensitive, buttery-soft feather. It is enough to have Keigo’s eyes widening and his body tensing. You smirk up at him and his reaction, continuing to torture him. “Somethin’ wrong, daddy?” you innocently coo. 

You then move your hands to the tips of his feathers and stroke them one at a time, running the tips of your fingers over each of them. Keigo lets out a high-pitched whine that has your pussy spasming and clenching around his cock. “D-don’t!” He cutely begs. “Gonna cum if you do that!” 

“Then you’d better fuck me then.” You lock your legs tighter around his head and your hands grip him tighter, locking him in. “Cum inside of me,” you demand. “Cum with me.” 

Keigo doesn’t need to be told twice. He snaps back into position and continues to pummel your cunt, his hips snapping forward again and again, driving his cock deeper into you. You gasp and moan beneath him, egging him on as you bounce against the mattress that shakes with the force of his thrusts. “Yes, baby!” you moan loudly, your voice bouncing off the walls. “That’s it! Keep going! I’m so close!” 

You continue to stroke his wings, up and down, in circles, in aimless patterns that start to lose shape as he starts fucking you harder. His hands suddenly take your legs off his shoulder and pin your open thighs down as far as they’ll go as he settles deeper into you, practically mounting you now. 

“You see it now?” he hums hotly against your mouth. “You see how much I love you? How much I need you?” You can’t answer him because he is now kissing you–hard, passionate, and rough. It has you seeing stars and barely catching your breath as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. 

Finally, you begin to feel it: his cock swelling inside of you, signaling the beginning of his end. You look up at Keigo and find his eyes locked with yours, blonde locks in his face and sweat coating his body. “Gonna cum,” he warns. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Fill you with all of me. Gonna fuckin’ nut…” 

You deliriously nod as your pussy spasms and your clit jumps, your third orgasm of the night present. “Me too!” you cry out. “Cum with me, Kei! Fill me up! Make me yours!” 

Keigo doesn’t need you to say anything more. He swoops down to press his mouth to yours in an open-mouthed, tongue-swirling kiss, eating the sounds of your pleasure up as you finally cum all over his cock. He cums too, spilling his seed inside of you without a warning or a second though. A loud moan of your name and a whine of ecstasy leaves his lips as he cums, his hips stilling against yours. 

You feel his cum stream inside of you, warm and overflowing. So much so that your mouth drops open and your eyes widen, the feeling foreign and intense. He coats your inside in all of his nut and doesn’t stop fucking you until his cum is finally dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. 

Keigo pulls out of you quickly, making you whine at the sudden loss. His cum spills out of your pussy, the sight of it lewd yet so arousing. “God, that’s so hot!” he groans, pumping his dick in front of you, his shaft slick with his cum and yours. “Makes me wanna cum again.” 

He suddenly scrambles on top of you and straddles your chest, his dick now in your face. “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he growls. You do so, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for all of him to coat it. 

Keigo cums again, tossing his head back and moaning to the ceiling, his voice echoing off the walls. His cum coats your mouth and tastebuds as well as your tits and face, causing your eyes to flutter shut to avoid getting nut in your eyes. He coats every single inch of your skin in his cum, marking you completely as his. You feel like you’re his now, and you love every inch of it. 

When you finally open your eyes, your face is wet and sticky with cum as are your chest, lips, pussy, and ass. Keigo is coming down from his high, his dick growing soft and eyes dimming. When he finally comes to and gets a look at you, he grows as red as his feathers. “Fuck, look at you!” He gasps, horrified. “Don’t move. Lemme go get a towel.” 

He nearly falls out of the bed trying to get up fast enough to go run to the bathroom. You lie there, covered in cum and sedated by your three orgasms of the night. And then you begin to laugh. They come up in short giggles that reach hysteria until you’re full on guffawing in Keigo’s bed. 

When he finally comes back with a soft towel wet with warm water and a glass of water, he stares at you in confusion. “What?” He asks curiously. 

“Nothing,” you giggle. “That was just…really nice.” You smile sweetly at him as he crawls onto the bed and proceeds to clean you up. He moves the wet towel across your sticky, sweat and cum-soaked skin until you’re finally free of it all. Then he moves to the bedside table to get the massage oil that he’s used on you and himself many times. 

You smile contently as you watch him squirt the tropical-scented oil into his hands and rub them together. He takes his time and is extra careful with your legs as he moves each one into his hands, starting from your feet to your thighs to kneed the tender flesh and massage the oil into your skin. 

His hands are warm and feel so nice against your body as he rubs you down, now moving to your stomach and shoulders. He then works on your arms and hands, taking each finger and gently tugging on each one. He is an expert, paying close attention to your bones and muscles on your hand. You can’t help but be aroused from it, loving the way he takes care of you. 

When he finishes with the front, he turns you onto your stomach and coaxes you to lie flat on the mattress. After he gets more oil, he continues to massage your body, his knuckles pushing into your back muscles and hands kneading the globes of your ass. Your head falls onto the bed in utter pleasure and relaxation, making your muscles less tense and loose.

“Mmm,” you moan as Keigo’s fingers start to kneed into the bones of your shoulders. 

“Feelin’ good, baby bird?” he hums happily.

You nod lazily and he laughs, continuing to work your body into an absolute puddle. You love this: the tenderness that comes after some good sex. All you smell are your boyfriend and the massage oil, the scents relaxing you even further and pushing you towards sleep. 

When it’s finally over, Keigo scoops you off of the bed and you let him, too relaxed and exhausted to do it yourself. “Come on, gorgeous,” he coos. “Let’s get you into bed.” He coaxes you under the covers before settling in beside you. As soon as he’s in bed with you, you snuggle up against his side and he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer than close. 

“Love you,” he murmurs against your forehead that he lays kisses upon. “Love you so much.” 

“I love you too, Kei,” you whisper into his neck, breathing in his smell. Your hand falls to his chest and presses against his heart, feeling it beat against your palm. “I always will.” 

He stares down at you, his gaze soft yet serious. “Then if you ain’t too tired, you in the mood for a very sad backstory?” He asks, a wry smirk playing at his lips. 

Suddenly, all sleepiness and the fog of relaxation are gone. You sit up onto your elbow, your heart beating a bit faster. Keigo is still staring at you, dead serious and waiting for a response. You give it to him by pressing a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his face as you do. “Always,” you whisper against his lips. 

Keigo smiles and presses another kiss to your lips before you lay back down beside him, mentally and emotionally preparing for his story. He doesn’t look at you as he prepares himself, mentally pulling back the pages to the book of his life that he swore not to tell you. But after tonight, that promise is broken. 

“It all starts on the little island of Kyushu,” he begins softly. 

THE END. 

[lady-corrine]

But somehow it is Rhaenyra — Rhaenyra who was forced into her marriage with a gay man, Rhaenyra whose sons were recognized and accepted by Laenor and Corlys as true Velaryons, Rhaenyra whose sons were, above everything else, her heirs, through her and her alone — that is the villain and the monster, and unworthy to rule.

That's it. Right there.

Greenies don't seem to get (or just ignore) that Laenor was A GAY MAN. Not straight. Not bi. But GAY. He had ZERO attraction to women. And Rhae knew and accepted that and CONSENTED for Laenor to have his lovers while she had her own, which LAENOR ALSO CONSENTED AS WELL.

As heir, Rhaenyra NEEDED to have kids. Regardless on if she was traumatized by child birth to her grandma and mom BOTH dying in childbirth. (Greenies also seem to forget that Nyra NEVER wanted kids as well. They make excuses for Alicent that she was a teen mom and probably didn't want kids, esp at 15 or 16 which is why she is so bad at parenting while Nyra is shown to be loving while previously never wanting marriage or motherhood) and since Laenor didn't desire her, she found a LITERAL plan b.

She couldn't trust anyone else bc the court was already hostile toward her for being a female heir so whose to say one day the bio dad would get tired and claim them????

Sorry for replying so late 💜

They just ignore it to fuel their hatred for Rhaenyra. Because just like you said, Laenor was a gay man, and, even more, the book makes it clear that Laenor never showed any interest in women:

This brings into discussion two separate, albeit very much connected, things:

First is how the whole council (and Viserys first and foremost, of course, since his word was final) was an idiotic group of idiotic men that placed Rhaenyra in an impossible situation from the very beginning. This wasn't a case of not knowing Laenor's sexuality, of some plot trying to keep the truth hidden until after the wedding, of pretense or lying — no, Laenor's sexuality was known to everyone. It was known he didn't express any interest in any women, it was known he was gay and had male lovers.

And yet the whole council simply went: you know what would be completely ideal for Rhaenyra? What would make her position so much easier? A man that loves her and is in love with her and actively asked to marry her and sought her hand in marriage? No. They decided that, somehow, the perfect answer is Laenor.

Which brings us to the second point of all this: for Rhaenyra to have those silver haired children that the Greens and Velaryon extremists cry about like they are some medieval peasants, it would have meant for her to rape Laenor. To not care at all about Laenor's feelings and desires and just repeatedly, robotically, force him and herself to sleep together until they produced a child.

But above all else, they hate that Rhaenyra actively sought to have pleasure herself when having sex. To not just sit there and endure it and count the seconds until it was finished.

They would rather see Rhaenyra as this monstrous gorgon that abuses her husband to fulfill her "duty" (someone take away this word from the greens). As this robot that clenches her mouth and suffers sleeping with her gay husband. And somehow this, for the Greens, is the better decision that proves a better character. This makes a better heir to the throne in their vision 🥴

Rhaenyra did the best she could with the horrible circumstances she was given. She allowed Laenor freedom, she allowed him to be with whoever he wanted. Jace, Luke and Joffrey were raised with love and not wanting for anything in terms of affection. And, mind you, the scrutiny was never on Laenor for his lovers. It was still always on Rhaenyra.

[gurugirl]

The Queen's Secret Chapter 8*

Summary: Harry doesn't show up for their next session and the Queen decides it's time to make a deal with him after she's made up her mind about what she wants.

Warning: Smut, some pining, a little angst

The Queen’s Secret Masterlist

Chapter 7*

Chapter 8*

Sleep and peace did not come easy for the Queen that night. She hadn’t realized the damage she’d caused the sweetest soul she’d ever met. She didn’t know that Harry would react the way he did, that he would be so hurt by her pushing him away. She thought it was for the best. She thought he’d understand and maybe even appreciate it in the long run. She didn’t expect for him to be angry about it. To be distant and cold. That hurt. The way he could barely look at her and that he’d been so upset over it.

She knew there was something there. Possibly deeper feelings developing between them, she felt them very clearly herself. She knew she could let herself fall in love if she were free to. But she wasn’t, and that was the problem. They couldn’t. So wasn’t this the best way to go about it? Wouldn’t the distance be better for them in the end?

The Queen’s mind was replaying over and over the way Harry was with her during their session. How he didn’t want her to touch him, and then how he kissed her but it was different than any kiss they’d shared before. The way he cried, how honest he was but still unwilling to soften toward her. She’d broken his heart, hadn’t she? That was never her intention. She wanted to make this easier for them, not harder. But it seemed her method backfired.

She wasn’t equipped for this kind of thing. Who could be really? What could they do? How could they have each other and also keep the things they’d worked so hard for? Was love worth losing everything else? And what if it wasn’t really love? What if this blew up in their faces and they lost everything in the process. It surely wouldn’t be worth it then. So how does one know if it’s worth it? Is love with the risk when it might not even be love to begin with?

Edgar had learned from Gertrude that Harry seemed very loving toward her as of late. That he’d been especially present for the kids and she felt like he was only confused for a short time, but back to his senses. Gertrude knew something had happened between the Queen and her husband but figured it was momentary. And she’d given him permission to be with the Queen after all, and she knew what Harry was like. His need for touch and sweetness had been a big problem for them when she felt it became too much after their second kid together. She felt he’d realized how silly he was being and now was back to normal behavior again.

But that didn’t mean she was okay with another round for the Queen and Harry. But they did have a duty to the Kingdom and Gertrude was invested as the sister to the King and so she knew it was only temporary and that once the Queen conceived, things could go back to the way they were before. It couldn’t come soon enough.

This news was a relief to the king. He didn’t need the headache of the Queen, his wife, falling for his brother-in-law. The kingdom would absolutely lose respect for the crown if that were to happen. And that could not, under any circumstance, happen. He overlooked the small bruises he saw on her hips all those weeks ago, and the way the Queen seemed upset and on edge but then things faded, bruises and all, and the King was once again feeling secure in his title and his marriage.

The Queen stood with the guard at 5pm in wait for Harry. After fifteen minutes of waiting, she knew he wasn’t coming. It felt sour, acrid. Her tummy simmered in upset and worry. She excused the guard and went to the room by herself. Inside she let her tears cover her face and sobbed by herself. She still hadn’t figured out what she wanted. Harry didn’t tell her outright, but she knew if she wanted to see his dimples again, to see the cheeky smirk and hear his handsome laugh she’d need to let a part of herself be his. She’d need to allow herself to love him and risk being hurt and losing everything.

She sniffed and wiped her tears and wanted to scream. Why couldn’t this be an easy decision? The way she’d kept him at arm’s length was meant to create the distance she felt was needed. And now that Harry was giving her the distance she thought they needed she hated it. She wanted him. But she hated the idea that she was going to share him or that she would be shared herself.

Y/n opened up her messages and began to text Harry. She wasn’t sure what to say. But she needed to do something before she lost him completely. Before he cut her out and ignored her forever. She couldn’t have that. Couldn’t live without a bit of him. Just a little piece if that’s all that could be had. She wanted all of him but she’d be okay with just the leftovers if she must. It was better than nothing. It wasn’t ideal but she realized she’d rather have remnants than nothing at all.

To Prince Harry: We should talk. I’m in our chambers. There is no guard. I’ll be here for one more hour. Please come.

She had her doubts that he would show up. She hoped he would. They couldn’t go out in public and hash out a deal about how they’d keep up a sordid affair behind their spouses’ backs. They had to do this in private.

The Queen paced the room. He hadn’t responded. He hadn’t shown up and half an hour had gone by. Had he blocked her number? That was certainly possible and the Queen wouldn’t blame him. She considered blocking his number weeks ago as well, but for the purpose of moving on out of necessity. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the idea that he would have blocked her, though. It would have been because he was hurt by her actions, not out of necessity.

Every minute that passed felt like fire in her heart and acid in her guts. She’d wait the hour like she said but as the hour drew near, she felt less confident that he’d show up. It was what she deserved. She didn’t deserve any part of the Prince. He was too sweet and gentle and she’d been too cold and heartless with him. Just the way he’d described Gertrude when they talked about their sad marriages.

When the door opened slowly Y/n turned quickly and saw Harry enter the room, head down. He closed the door behind him and lifted his face to the Queen and their eyes met.

He was so beautiful and absolutely perfect. A rare gem with a heart of gold. How could she not return his affection?

“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to ever hurt you. But… will you sit with me?” She moved toward him but didn’t want to get too close in case he didn’t want her in his space.

He sniffed and nodded and moved to the sitting area of the room. The Queen sat across from him in the armchair and continued, “I want…” she breathed and felt her resolution solidify when she looked at him and saw the bags under his eyes, his lashes wet, face solemn, “you. I can’t be without you.” Harry’s eyes widened when he looked up to her and he appeared taken aback. As if it hadn’t been what he expected to hear her say.

“I was scared, but after yesterday, I realized it’s scarier to not have you at all.” She watched his face as he took in her words. His lips parted slightly and he blinked hard and looked down at his lap to where his hands were.

“I want to give as much of myself to you as possible. Without anyone finding out, though. Let’s take the chance, if you still want. Which, I understand if you do not…”

Harry lifted his head and his brow was furrowed, “Do not lie to me right now, Y/n. I cannot handle it, not even one more time. Even my children were worried about me when I was depressed because of your silence. I am in no shape to deal with this all over again. If you mean it then you’ll make me very happy, but if you don’t, if you have even a second thought about this, please leave me alone. My heart cannot take it.”

Y/n got up from her chair and nearly tripped on her dress to rush to Harry’s feet. She knelt in front of him and put her hands on his knees and looked up at him, “I mean it. Harry I… I haven’t ever felt for anyone the way I feel for you. I’m worried, of course, but I think you’re worth it. As long as you feel the same.”

Harry clenched his jaw and looked upward toward the ceiling. He knew the best course would be to keep his distance, but how could he when he was meant to be getting her pregnant? How could he when she made his heart pump wildly in his chest and the mere sight of her kicked the air from his lungs every time. He couldn’t pretend there was nothing there, though he tried.

Harry brought his face back down to see the Queen with her hands flat on his knees, her eyes on his. He could see that she’d been crying and now she was on the floor at his feet. He slowly brought his hands up to cover hers and nodded, “I do feel the same. Still.”

With that Y/n lifted herself and put her arms around the Prince’s shoulders and kissed him in excitement. Harry put his hands at her waste and she climbed into his lap with her lips on his. The excited kiss turned into a soft and sacred one. A kiss that meant they would be for each other. They would risk the losses and the risk would be worth it. A kiss that meant they would open up to one another and allow their hearts to be fulfilled, to be complete. It was full of vulnerability and felt like plugging your nose before diving off the tallest cliff into deep water but trusting you’d land safely somehow.

Because the hour had passed and their spouses would wonder where they were, they couldn’t take the time to make love or sit too long together. But they did discuss some guidelines for their relationship. Things that needed to be laid out and some things that they probably should have talked about before but never did.

Harry kept her in his lap as they spoke and he kissed her frequently. His lips moved over her neck as she spoke and her tongue licked over his jaw when he responded. They ended their meeting with a kiss that had them nearly tearing one another’s clothes off. Harry’s dick was hard and so he had to have the Queen give him some space so he could calm down before leaving their chambers.

“Sorry. I just need to cool off a little.” He said when her feet hit the floor and he stood up, realizing the time. They stayed apart as Harry paced the room and they talked about next month’s volunteer station for the town’s people that the Queen would be heading. Harry said he’d join as well to help. It would be a way for them to see one another, even if for just a glance.

When Harry had calmed enough that his erection wouldn’t be too noticeable, they kissed in parting and he left before she did.

The shift that had taken place after their talk made everything around the Queen feel softer and sweeter. She would look forward to tomorrow’s session and Harry would too. Her heart felt lighter even though she knew this was dangerous. She wanted it. She needed it.

Harry was able to breathe again.

“You seem very happy today, my love. I like to see you smile.” Edgar commented when they were both in their bedroom getting ready to settle into bed for the night.

“It was a nice day. The volunteer committee is coming into place. I think we’ve got a good, reliable group this time. And I bought a new book to begin this week, which I’ve been looking forward to reading. Didn’t have the chance to start it today, though.” Y/n smiled as she spoke. She knew that Edgar would try and have sex with her, and it would be in her best interest to let him so he didn’t get suspicious. Though, now that she and Harry were on good terms again, she’d be imagining the prince was the one fucking her tonight. She no longer even cared that it was probably terrible to imagine another man inside of her, but her heart had never really belonged to Edgar.

“And how was your session with Prince Harry?” He folded the blankets down and climbed into bed as the Queen removed her robe and hung it up.

She and Harry discussed this. They’d say Harry didn’t feel well and didn’t show up. They could have lied and said the session went as planned, but the guard that was on duty knew that Harry didn’t show up so they had to cover all their bases just in case the guard was asked. Harry would tell Gertrude that he’d gotten sick on the way to the session and had to rest in the castle for an hour before going home. It was a believable story.

“Well, Harry didn’t show up but then I found out that he fell sick. So, we’ll try again tomorrow, I think. I don’t know much more than that.” She climbed into the bed with her husband and tried not to focus on the way he made her skin crawl these days.

“Ahh… I didn’t realize he got sick.” The lights were turned off and the King lifted Y/n’s nightgown and began to initiate sex. Even after Y/n told the King that he rarely pleased her or brought her to orgasm, he never changed his ways. It was as if that conversation had never happened. Not a single thing about the way he approached intimacy had changed. He never even asked her about it again or what he could do differently so that she would enjoy intimacy with him.

But the Queen was grateful that it was dark in the room. The shadow of the man above her, thrusting into her could be Harry. But she could easily feel the difference between Harry’s girth and the King’s. She closed her eyes and pretended and somehow it helped. So much so that when she slipped her fingers in between their bodies as the King continued his ministrations she was able to get herself to orgasm.

It shocked her a little. She had been so worked up with Harry before and now imagining him, and the feel of her fingers at her clit worked like a charm. She’d do this from now on if she were in the mood to orgasm. The King came inside of her, with his false load and he grunted, then rolled over to fall asleep.

Harry, on the other hand, didn’t have a warm body to fuck and pretend with. Gertrude had found that Harry had gotten a little sick (which he had to pretend to be when he came home) and so she told him to bathe and she made him tea and sent him to bed. Harry was not expecting that Gertrude would want to have sex with him anyway so he locked the bathroom door and closed his eyes as he masturbated and imagined the Queen sucking him off. He was half hard anyway from kissing her and knowing he’d get to have her again the following day.

Harry and Y/n locked themselves in their room as soon as they’d gotten inside. Today’s session was going to be so much better than the last two. The King wouldn’t be waiting for them but they still didn’t want to get too loose with their time so no one would question what took too long.

Harry gently pressed himself to the Queen and began untying her dress to remove it. She was naked underneath and already wet for him. They had texted all day and some of the messages got a bit heated and detailed about what they wanted, so they were both more than ready when the time came.

He kissed her as he smoothed his hands down her sides and as he lowered them he brought himself to his knees before her. He pecked at her breasts and then her belly and took her right thigh in his hand, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She was pushed against the door of the room as Harry connected his lips to the Queen’s center, moist and ready. She kept herself upright with one leg on the floor and her hands in his hair, her back leant into the door.

She sighed and smiled into the room when she felt the Prince’s lips on her. And even though he’d been hasty in taking her clothes off and licking at her cunt (he couldn’t even wait to get her into the bed), he was still being gentle and thorough with her. He was always thorough even when they lacked time.

Harry put his hands onto her bottom and pressed her into his face so he could have her pussy as close as possible. He smacked over her cunt and pulled her wet labia into his mouth and stuck his tongue into her folds and up over her clit. He was hungry for her and she could feel it in her body the way Harry was malnourished.

“Harry… oh my god…” she closed her eyes and leaned her head into the door behind her as her ravished her center with his tongue and his lips.

He looked up to see her breasts peaked and soft and he was plumping up thickly in his pants. He couldn’t wait wrap his lips around her nipples and push his cock into her soft pussy. He just wanted to show her all his appreciation.

The room seemed to spin around the queen. The only thing grounding her was Harry’s mouth on her pussy and his hands on her ass when she came in his mouth. She’d never come standing up, pushed against a wall (or door in this case), while being eaten out. Of course, there were a lot of firsts with Harry.

He licked her up and then kissed the top of her cunt gently before moving back and looking up at Y/n. She was leaning into the door, her legs still shaky from her orgasm. Harry held her steady.

Harry stood up and pulled her body into his arms and kissed her. The kiss was similar to their kiss the night before. Soft and meaningful. Full of promise and feeling. She didn’t know how she was going to put up with anything less than what Harry would offer her. The King certainly wasn’t up to par. Not anymore. But she couldn’t think this way. It was what got her too in her head and made her push Harry away in the first place. It was the idea that she wouldn’t be able to have this when she wanted. She thought it would be easier for them to be apart and not warm with one another, but that was too painful. It would be better to have him like this than not at all.

“Mmm… I missed it. That taste. How wet you get. Fuck…” Harry had his own thoughts about everything. He didn’t care that he and the Queen wouldn’t always be able to be together. That they’d have to be secret and sneaky. He just wanted to be able to show his heart to her when he had the chance, even if it wasn’t often. He needed it. He was able to give and receive love and sweetness with his children but that was such a different kind of love. Such a different way of revealing yourself that, as precious as it was to him, it just wasn’t fulfilling his need for it.

“I missed you, Harry.” The Queen said and she pulled his shirt from his pants to untuck and to begin unbuttoning him. He’d not removed any of his clothes. She wanted to see him and touch him. His strong body was attractive and masculine and it deserved to be displayed. She loved looking at his tattoos and the bit of hair over his chest, his broad shoulders and the softness over his muscles on his torso. His strong thighs that held up his heavy dick… he was perfection to her.

When he’d disrobed she knelt down and put his cock in her hand and delicately kissed up his shaft and looked up at the Prince while doing so. He put a hand on the wall and spread his legs slightly as he watched his Queen go down on him. Such a pretty mouth that stretched easily over him. Her pink tongue lapped at his flesh and moistened his length. He moaned at the intimacy of it.

She took him down her throat for a few moments but Harry really just wanted to put his cock between her legs and come inside of her cunt. He’d missed it. The last time it happened their session was shrouded in sadness and guilt and that sick feeling of loss and despair. Today would be different. Things would be different from now on.

He let her suck on him for a bit longer so he could enjoy the way it felt to have her warm mouth on him and swallowing around his tip. He never got this anywhere else. It was a treat.

“Let’s go to the bed, my love.” He spoke softly when she pulled off him for breath. He helped her up and they climbed into the bed and laid in it facing one another on their sides. The Queen quickly put her thigh over Harry’s hip and rubbed her pussy over his erection and pressed her lips on his. Harry pulled her close, his hand at her bottom and rejoiced in the feel of her pressed into his body and how sweet it was to have her like this.

There weren’t many words to be said. They’d texted all the things they’d wanted to say and yesterday spoke about things they should have from the beginning. This moment was for being close and sharing their hearts and their bodies.

Harry angled himself and put his tip to the Queen’s entrance and pressed upward to slide inside. It was tight and perfect. Y/n held on to his shoulder as he fucked into her slowly.

They stared at one another as they moved as one. There couldn’t have been a better way to come back together. Soft, slow, delicious, and wet. It felt like the building of something intense and lovely and the crumbling of cold fortified walls. No more coldness or distance. They would be for one another, even if only from time to time.

Harry wanted to run away with the Queen and show her himself without abandon. Show her his heart and tell her that he loved her, because he felt like he did. But he was hesitant because it wasn’t that easy. He had children and the Queen had her kingdom. These things could not be taken with them if they were to choose each other above everything else.

The Queen felt her heart pump hard and was finally at ease with her Prince inside of her, watching her, whispering her name. He felt so real and final. He was it for her. He had to be. She’d never find anyone like him. He was so perfect and their connection was genuine. It was heavy and penetrating, the feelings she’d developed for him. She loved him.

“Harry… Harry…” she whispered his name back to him and he paused the bucking of his hips to press his lips to hers and push his tongue into her mouth. They both began to cry when they felt the intensity of everything around them. It was impossible but it was still beautiful. Their hearts felt whole.

“I love you, Harry.” She spoke against his mouth and Harry let out a shaky breath and blinked his eyes. He wasn’t expecting her to tell him she loved him. He thought he was alone in those feelings. He adjusted their position and pushed his arm under her to hold her closer to his body. He squeezed her and kissed her nose and let his tears fall.

“I’ve wanted to tell you how much I love you. I can’t believe you love me too. I love you, Y/n. I love you. I love you.” He was elated. He kept them on their sides facing one another but now he had both arms around her. He pushed his lips into her temple and thanked all the deities and all the energies of the world that he could think of that her love was returned to him. It felt impossible. It felt incredible.

When his emotional state had subsided and he felt her warm body and her hips moved gently to urge him for more he began to roll into her deeply. He kept her body pressed to his because he needed to feel her as close as possible.

They panted and groaned. It felt so perfect and so right. Y/n kissed his jaw and breathed into his neck as his cock reached deep into her.

“Of course I love you. How could anyone not?” She spoke against his neck and he whimpered. It was all he wanted. Her love. They couldn’t freely be together but to have her love and her promise of it was enough for now. His sensitive heart was bursting with joy.

She had to hold on tight when he moved his hips into her faster. His long dick poking her insides deliciously caused her to yelp when he dipped in each time.

“Yes! Yes… yes… Harry…” she chanted at each long thrust. She felt him everywhere. He felt like love and sweetness and devotion. His body and the way he fucked her was just a bonus of course, and it was what brought them together, but their feelings were real and they’d be bound together now.

Y/n couldn’t help it when she came around his cock, clenching and pulsing and squeezing. She groaned and put her mouth to his neck to muffle the sound and her nipples blossomed and goosebumps covered her skin when she orgasmed in his arms. She didn’t ever want to leave this moment.

Harry thrusted himself into her wetness and the noise of it filtered in between their bodies.

“So creamy for me, my love... Just like I like... You’re so perfect... Going to give me beautiful babies…” he gasped and panted between words as he began to orgasm and throb inside of her. He stuffed her fully, releasing his sperm deep into her guts. She was fertile and ready to be bred by him.

He rode out his high slowly with meaningful strokes, making sure to keep as much of his come inside of her cunt as was possible. He licked over her mouth and they connected their lips as their centers remained attached.

Their breathing slowed and the Queen tilted her head back to look at her Prince. Beautiful and gentle and lovely. She brought a hand up to caress his chin and his jawline, push his hair through her fingers and dance her fingertips over his lips… His heart was hers. He’d wanted Gertrude to have it for so long but she didn’t want much of it. Harry wasn’t the kind to let his heart be split into two. A part for his wife and a part for the Queen. He wasn’t built that way. His whole heart would only belong to one person. It needed to stay intact. So he chose to give it to Y/n because she wanted it and she gave him hers.

“I’m yours. My love, my heart, everything. For you.” His look was severe and hopeful.

The Queen smiled and kissed his nose, “Thank you. I’m yours, Harry. Every part of me. You can have it. No one else is as gentle with me as you are. No one else loves me like you. I want all of me to be yours.”

There wasn’t any way for Harry to express with words how happy that made him. And she didn’t need the words to know it. She felt it. The way he looked at her, the way his mouth covered hers, the way his hand brought hers to hold over his heart. She understood it and she would never do anything to push him away again.

They only allowed themselves a few more moments to stay wrapped up in one another before they reluctantly parted for the evening with smiles on their faces and joy in their bones.

Chapter 9*

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it’s all appreciated.

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[wilcze-kudly]

I've seen your AU posts about Bolin as the Avatar, but here is another interesting thought experiment for you: what if Suyin was the Avatar?

[Disclaimer: Not making up a new timeline, so let's roll with some AU where the current Suyin we know is simply discovered as the Avatar at a really late age.] So, some of what often defines an Avatar are these common prerequisites: the world tour, learning the elements, spirituality, and approach/practicality. I'll give my thoughts on how I feel Suyin would fare and/or adapt in these categories, but everything said here is really just for fun discussion and is always up for your and everyone's own interpretation. World Tour: Suyin already has one foot in on this side of things as she's already been noted on traveling some parts of the world, seems relatively well-traveled, and has met a variety of people in her travels.

As the Avatar, I don't believe this aspect would be very hard for her. However, I could see her wrestling with the difficulty of hardly ever having the opportunity to enjoy any private time in her home for the sake of ushering peace and stability in the world. It's possible she could have someone act as an interim matriarch over Zaofu or possibly even step down permanently. Oh, who are we kidding? We all know she's a certified workaholic and will collapse trying to do them both at once. Learning the Elements: I also believe this should come easier to her as well. Her fighting style, for starters, is already very reminiscent of airbender movements in how nimble and mindful of her surroundings she is than most other earthbenders. Or, as Aang would say, "being quick or clever"

However, she thinks like a waterbender; how she redirects metal and earth thrown at her and redirect them to her opponent is a sight to behold. The one element I could see having an issue with as the Avatar is fire as it requires a mind of inner peace and tranquility (and she has definitely had some lingering issues in her past). She is also reasonably emotional (under the right circumstances) and impulsive which can cause lapses in her judgment or behavior. Lightning is a possibility as a skill, I suppose, but I definitely see her redirecting it more than generating it much. Oh, and traveling to find masters? Screw that. Nope, they're all getting an extended deluxe stay at Zaofu until she's mastered all the elements. Non-negotiable.

Spirituality: This is the shortest one as we don't know much of what Suyin thinks of spirits, the spirit world, or even how spiritual she actually is. She comes off as a bit materialistic, though, so that might affect how she interacts in those kinds of such matters but it's all very vague, to say the least.

Approach & Practicality: I think this aspect is the most interesting because I think it really hinges on how charitable one wants to be to Suyin's character. For all I've mentioned, she could very well be a Szeto-type of Avatar that mainly prioritizes the progression and safety of only Zaofu and any surrounding territories under their banner. There's enough precedent for that mentality given her response to the Earth Kingdom situation in Book 4. On the flip side, I could also see her acting with a sort of dual persona. One, that operates as sort of a "mother hen" kind of figure that over-compensates for the world's needs, albeit in her own fussy and systematic way with the best of maternal intentions. The other persona is more discreet and handles problems behind the scenes. Given that she had someone like Aiwei in her ranks and wasn't afraid to assassinate Kuvira in the dead of night, this is another possibility of how she would operate as the Avatar. Honestly, I envision her as a slightly more domineering Yangchen, with occasional flashes of Kyoshi if things REALLY hit the fan. But, hey, who is gonna piss off the cool mom, right? ....Right?

Oh my god I love this idea! I think a show following an older, more established Avatar would be very interesting.

One can actually put forth a theory that Suyin's travels have already kinda lead her through all three elements to some extent.

She spent time sailing on a pirate's ship, surrounded by water. That's waterbending down.

The circus she performed in looks incredibly similar to the one Ty Lee had performed in. This can also be backed up that Suyin also has a painted lady doll, a dragon mask, and some other thing (perhaps a flute? Or a pin?) With a dragon motif. So that's firebending also down.

Her connection to Airbending is a little bit less pronounced, but she did spend a lot of time in a sandbender commune. Now, while sandbenders are earthbenders, their bending methods are incredibly similar to airbending, to the point where they can propel their sandgliders with it. The commune could also be similar to Air Nomads and their communal lifestyles.

I can see her connecting very strongly with the healing aspects of waterbending. She seems to have a bit of medicinal knowledge, or at least enough of an instinct to get most of the metal out of Korra's bloodstream. We really don't talk about that enough man that was cool as fuck.

I could sort of see Suyin making Zaofu a bit of her home and "base of operations" like Aang seemed to fo with Air Temple Island. Also the idea that instead of a traditional Team Avatar, she has her gaggle of feral ninja children is really funny to me.

The more I think about Suyin as an Avatar, the more wonderful symbolism I can see there.

The Earth Kingdom is still probably suffering massively after the damage done to it by the Fire Nation. And who better to herald it's rebirth than the metalbender Avatar daughter of a renowned war hero.

Suyin is all about progress and people growing. And I can certainly see her wanting to spread that to others. As the Avatar, doing so wouldn't be seen as her subjugating others (which was one of her main reasons to not help during the whole earth empire thing) but by acting as a Spiritual Guide to others.

So yeah this is an amazing concept. Honestly i need to gather my thoughts on it but I may revisit this concept.

[crossovershipstournament]

ROUND 3: SIDE 2: Jiminy Cricket (Pinocchio)/Timothy Q. Mouse (Dumbo) VS Megaman (Megaman)/Pit (Kid Icarus)

Propaganda for Jiminy Cricket/Timothy Q. Mouse:

This ask! So cute!

Also this ask~!

I swear to god, this has nothing to do with the Jimmy Timmy Power Hour thing, I came up with the ship separate from that. So like, as someone who grew up watching both movies, I was like "There are similar elements to these movies." "These two characters are kinda similar." "You know, I wonder how these two would interact, given their similar circumstances." "Yeah, they'd def bond over talks of the kids they watch over and such." "Perhaps the two would be besties." "Wait, both appeared in Dumbo's hat in the opening of The Mickey Mouse Club? Awesome!" "Hold on, maybe they could also be an interesting romantic couple." "I am writing stuff in my head and also a fic and doing art as we speak." "There are old Disney comics that have them interacting, I am on Cloud Nine right now." "This is my ship, I love them. They are both not straight. They're besties. They're trying their best." And here we are. I'd be more than happy to make art specifically for the polls if asked/contacted. Otherwise, I'd be happy to direct your attention to those old comics and stuff. And I'd be more than happy to also elaborate/talk more about 'em when asked.

#hi! my partner submitted Jimothy! please vote for them!

Cute art!

To the person who's drawn the cute chibified art of them, thank you for doing prop off gander today. I've been sick in bed all day and completely forgot.

So hi! Yes, hello. I came up with Jimothy several years ago and was the one to submit the prior propaganda to the blog. These two have been in so many scenarios in my mind, y'all have no idea. They are so small. They are both mentor figures (more or less). They, uh, small. Even outside the ship dynamic, I can imagine them being amazing friends. Did you know that prior to their Disney work, both of their original voice actors (Cliff Edwards for Jiminy, Edward Brophy for Timothy) were in a live-action film with Buster Keaton? That has nothing to do with the ship, that's just a fun fact. I would have more to say, but like I said, still sick. Please vote Jimothy.

More art!

TINY DAD SIDEKICKS

#OH THATS SUCH A CUTE SHIP ACTUALLY??? #TINY MENTORS..... AWWW..... #YEAH IM ON TEAM TINY MENTORS #VOTE JIMINY AND TIMOTHY

Uhm hi, please vote for Timothy and Jim…PLEASE!! They are literally so cute together :0) just two little dads living their best lives

Even more art!

#they are from the 40s…so old and in love Jimothy is a couple you can fit in your pocket. To be honest, I'm just glad they made it past round 1. This silly lil crossover ship I've made sure has grown over the years, huh. I'm super-glad that it's gotten so much love over the years. No matter what the outcome is, I love you guys.

#jimothy SWEEP

Propaganda for Megaman/Pit:

This ask, which includes the art used in the bracket image!

Oh my god. This one came immediately to mind. Idk how big the ship is now, but I remember like seeing it everywhere back when Super Smash Bros Ultimate was like popular on Tumblr/Twitter. I think it was originally a crackship cause both of them were in Captain N (a cartoon), but it’s like a serious thing now. Literally all it took was one interaction between them (there’s like dialogue you can get if you do some combination when you play as Pit) which is just Pit gushing about Mega Man. It’s cute. And honestly kind of iconic

#MEGAPIT ?? good for them #go back in time and tell kid me the ship he came up with on a whim would be in a tumblr bracket :'3

#megapit sweep!

#megapit nation let's pokémon go to the polls #let's give it for a wholesome and iconic crackship

#MEGAPIT NATION RISE. RISE. RISE #MEGAPIT

#MEGAPIT!!!1!

#MEGAPIT NATION RISE UP

#c'mon megapit nation #sure they may lose but let's get them some votes anyways!

#vote for the boys people!!! #let's get them as far as possible

Art Credit: Jiminy/Timothy pic from the Disney comics Megaman/Pit art by @/farraigeart

[thewritersaddictions]

Jim Hopper- Holidate

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Fem!reader

POV: Hopper/Reader

Warnings: Being in love with each other, Christmas, loneliness, modern

Summary: Chief Hopper and Y/n meet in the ER on Christmas Day. For whatever reason Hopper stays so that Y/n doesn't have to be alone during Christmas

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 1.3k

Stranger Things Master List // The Elders Master List

I had only meant to be driving for some food. For some milk from the store. I hadn’t anticipated just how much snow, and ice would be all over the ground. The drive to the store hadn’t been too bad, nor at the walk around the store. 

I grabbed the milk and some microwave meals. Some peeps are decorated to look like Santa and any other Christmas-flavored thing that they can sell. Had I meant to wear more right clothes, yes? Should I have even left my house, probably not? 

Was I hungry fuck yes, so I did it anyways, even though as I walked out of my house I heard my local news channel say, “Do not under any circumstances drive in the snow and ice? You can get into an accident. Stay home and keep the news channel said as I closed my doors. 

I never made it home though. Cold shivers ran down my spine as I walked out of the store with my bags. My feet slipped under the snow and ice. It was Hawkins after all, snow fell and bad spells were all over this town. My car was covered with a light layer of snow, and flurries flying in the sky. 

I should have noticed that something was up when my car stuttered to life. The engine did not want to deal with the cold air around it. I had to try again, almost a third time before the engine fell to life. A gust of hot air came to wrap the inside of the car, and my cheeks and fingers were numb to the touch. I tried everything during the harsh winters in Hawkins. Gloves, and long hats that covered my ears. Putting my sleeves up to the hot air vents to let the air float around my shivering body. 

I just should have stayed right there in the parking lot. Away from the slick roads, but all I could think about was my warm bed, maybe even calling the chief Hopper. Seeing that maybe after the fall of snow, I could bring him some of my homemade candies for Christmas. Our relationship was one that was odd. We weren’t a thing, even though the little kids were all around town that we were. The high school that I worked at even thought so, my best and worst students could all agree that I had the hots for the chief of our small town and that he had the hots for me. 

I drove down the road anyway. Not really thinking, the radio played soft and low music. Christmas music was a way to Merry for the snow that was falling down, on those icy roads. The lights of the town started to fade as I drove further and further away from the inner town. The further out I got the worse the roads got, and the icier was laying underneath the snow. 

Lying in wait for any innocent driver to attack. I wasn’t fast, but did that really matter with the ice all over the roads? No, it wouldn’t have mattered if I was biking, hiking, or walking home.The ice had the ability to change your life no matter what you were doing. One wrong turn, too fast, or even too slow and I was spinning out of control.

Sure I had lived here in Hawkins for all of my life. Going to high school and college with Hopper and Byers. I hadn’t gotten the best driving lesson, the ice and snow weren’t around when I was given my driver’s license. The challenge started long before I left the store. The road curved, and I spun the wheel the wrong way. Turning the car out of control. Forest laid all in front of me, the harsh split of dark greens and browns mixed with the fresh new layers of white and clear. 

It was all in a blur as my car spun out of control hitting and rolling in the snow into a bank of ice. I breathed for the first time, and then the airbags exploded in front of my face. My head hit the headrest. My neck jolted back with pain, as it spread to new places. Like my arm, mostly my wrist. Pinned between my own body, and the crushed door, I couldn’t get my thoughts straight as my surrounding started to get blurry. I was trying to stay away, trying desperately to get to my phone. Anything to do, the cold air rushing into the car, shivers running down my body, as the pain from my neck and wrist started to get worse. 

Finally, my good hand grabbed onto my cell. I didn’t have to wait long to find Hopper’s contact. Should I have just called the station, probably. So, hopefully, Hopper would pick up his phone. He’d pick it up for the girl that the whole town thought he loved. 

He loved me, right? 

I loved him, right? 

Stop, and focus on the damn call. 

My phone lit up with a call. At nearly ten at night, I should have turned the damn thing off, but I was convinced by Joyce to leave it on for emergencies. I had just got home from my shift, the last run around town to make sure shit was hitting the fan on Christmas day. Stupid kids throwing snowballs at houses, or teenagers stealing shit from other people. 

I just wanted to get warm and wait for my call from Y/n. It was odd she had yet to call. I had told her earlier in the week to not leave the house unless it was absolutely needed. And even if it was then she could have called me and I would go bring it to her. 

I dug my phone out of my back pocket. There she was, calling me almost on time. 

“Y/n, are you doing alright you’re a little late with your call?” I asked her. I was fine, and then the phone call was silent. No goofy answer-back, no smart remark to be witty. Nothing but the uneven breathing behind the phone. “Y/n?” I asked again, panic was starting to build behind all of my emotions. Nothing would be as bad as I thought it was. 

More uneven breathing more worry seeping into my warming bones. 

“Y/n, god damn it answers me,” I said, slamming my hand down on the wooden coffee table. “Hop, I…” God her voice was so bad, shivering with each word. She sounded like she was running, barely keeping up with her heartbeat. “What’s wrong, tell me?” I pleaded with her. “Hop, I went out… to the store.” She said, I stopped, my hands were shaking. The phone was barely placed up against my cheek. I wasn’t outwardly panicking anymore, everything had been pushed down to deal with the issue at hand. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. A stupid question given her breathing at the start of this call. “My… My car spun, and I’m pretty sure my wrist is broken or at least fractured, my head hit the wheel then the head rests. Everything is so…” Y/n said her breathing quicking then stopped short. 

I wasn’t even lacing up my boots before she stopped talking, throwing the truck into reverse.  I didn’t care that I wanted to be warm anymore, Y/n was hurt after I told her to not leave her house. I told her, I stayed on the call. I had to stay on the call. I could call in an emergency vehicle to be dispatched to Y/n’s house, but I doubt that’s where she was. “Where are you? I need to know Y/n.” I asked her. 

A shaky breath came before she gave me the location. Not far from the town, not far from the town. I repeated in my head. Was this really happening? I couldn’t drive like a crazy person. I and to be safe or Y/n would never get the help that she needed. I reached the crash before anyone else did. Her car was a mess. The drivers side was all bashed in, and airbags were popped as well. Deflated, I could barely see her through the frost and snow that was falling down onto the Old Hawkins road. 

Being the chief came with some sorta perk, right?

Completed on: 01/11/23

Posted on: 01/12/23

The Elders-

[inacatastrophicmind]

fic stats meme! 💌 rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

I was tagged by @wanderingcas thank you so much, Sam

most hits: Pretty Boy

Dean works in secret as a prostitute, struggling through coping on his own, paying the bills and saving for Sam to go to college. He hates his job. That changes when one night he meets Castiel, a strange but handsome man who is looking for a prostitute to work exclusively for him. The moment Dean meets him, he knows that Castiel is different. He isn't like any of those other men. Although it’s only sex between them, both of them can’t help but like each other. Slowly, they grow to something beyond sex.

second most kudos: The Purple Shield

In Spokane, Washington, Dean and Castiel finish a case with a powerful witch. Ready to go back home, they start driving back to the bunker, only to find that a big purple shield is blocking their way, not letting them leave.

Forced to remain in that town, Dean and Castiel go to a cabin, where they will have to stay until the two of them find a way to break the spell with the help of Sam and Eileen, who are in the bunker, unable to reach them.

In normal circumstances, Dean wouldn’t mind being stuck in such a lovely place with his best friend, but he is secretely in love with Cas and there is only one bed, so things aren’t going to be that easy for Dean.

third most comments: Film Books

Dean Winchester is the owner of a bookshop in Vancouver. He doesn’t know that his life is going to change the moment Castiel Novak, the famous actor, walks into his store. Something sparkles in between them the moment they see each other.

It starts with a friendship that becomes something else pretty quickly. But what they have is a temporary thing, given that Castiel is only going to stay in Vancouver for a month and he will be back to New York as soon as he stops filming. But they can’t help developing strong feelings for each other.

They belong to two different worlds; while Dean has a simple life and he is quite happy about it, Castiel has a stressful and busy one.

But for how long can they pretend that this is only a temporary and casual thing and that there aren’t any feelings involved?

fourth most bookmarks: There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

“Do you really think that it’s possible to bring Cas back?” Sam asks in that tone that Dean hates because it means that his brother isn’t fully on board with something. “Jack didn’t really think that it could be done.”

“I don’t care,” Dean says, looking at his brother with determination. “I’ll bring him back home. I’m not gonna let Cas rot in the Empty. I’ll find him and I’ll bring him home. He deserves to be saved. He deserves to be alive.”

fifth most words: Painting a Prince

After spending most of his summer locked in the house, Castiel, the son of Duke Novak, decides to leave it for a couple of hours and goes to the woods, meeting Dean, another lonely kid who treats him like an equal and who runs to the woods to get some freedom like Castiel. The two kids quickly develop a strong friendship, slowly falling in love, until they get together, keeping it a secret because homosexual love is forbidden and condemned. But they are discovered and forced to go on separate ways, until fifteen years later, they meet again, but things are even more difficult than before.

fic with the least words: Freckles

Castiel loves Dean's freckles and he really likes to kiss all of them, especially the ones in Dean's penis.

I'm tagging @castieldelamancha @valleydean and @thebloggerbloggerfun

[mollymauk-teafleak]

I won't let go 'til the end

We're just taking out favourite scenes from Top Gun: Maverick and making them gay, thats all we're about over here. So this is the end scene. Have fun and please comment over on Ao3!

Many many thanks to the wonderful @nb-fearne who deserves all the fics in the world ever because they are just the best

-----

Silence was worrying in a number of specific circumstances. With excitable small animals. With sugar rushing toddlers. With unstable nuclear reactors. 

And with people who had been described as those things on separate occasions. And, in one impressive insult from an officer who’d really been pissed off, all three in the same breath. 

So when Tom pulled out his headphones- the fancy waterproof ones that Bradley had set up for him and he still didn’t fully trust, convinced they’d get stuck in his ear one of these days- to hear a silent house, something inside him prickled. The same something that told him when a missile was about to be fired at him, when he needed to bank hard and get out of the goddamn way. 

But he didn’t do that, not with Maverick. With Mav, his job was to run straight towards it.

So Tom knotted the towel tighter around his waist and padded into the house, leaving wet footprints on the kitchen tile. His hip was already aching now he was out of the pool. When the doctors had said that injury- a souvenir of the worst crash he’d had in his entire military career -would stick with him the rest of his life, they hadn’t been kidding. Swimming helped though, taking the pain down from a constant roar to a dull buzz.

It was helping less the older he got though. The medals they’d given him in recompense didn’t help much either. 

What did help a little better was Maverick rubbing him down after he did his prescribed hour of exercise, even if that was only because it usually led to sex which distracted Tom from how much his fucking hip hurt. Another reason to find his husband. 

“Mav? Sweetheart?” he called, listening for the sound of footsteps upstairs or the shower running or off key singing from the front lawn, any of the usual sounds that accompanied his never silent wingman. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but a scrawl on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge, the one that was supposed to be for writing what groceries they needed. 

Had to run to the hangar. Won’t be long. Love you!

Tom frowned, despite the heart drawn at the end of the message. A frown that had nothing to do with the painful ghost of that crash in the Gulf. 

He’d kind of assumed Maverick would abandon that empty hangar when he got kicked off the Darkstar project, the whole reason he’d bought it was for those nights he had to stay so late at the office there was no point in him riding home. But for some reason, Maverick was spending more time at the place now than he had then. Every weekend he seemed to disappear up there, saying he wanted to work on something and very little else. It had been going on for ages now, he was pretty sure Mav went up there while Tom was at work too. 

Whenever Tom asked what exactly his little project was, if he could help or maybe just come up there and be in the same place as his husband on their days off, Maverick suddenly took evasive maneuvers. He didn’t want to make Ice drive all the way out there, Ice hated taking his motorcycle, he’d just be bored, he hadn’t got the place fixed up nice, the fridge set on fire sometimes. A flock of reasons Tom couldn’t follow and he’d run out of the door even faster. 

Tom had known his husband for more than thirty years now, even if they hadn’t gotten to spend as much of that time together as they’d have liked. He’d been his rival, his wingman, his commanding officer and finally, after too damn long, his husband. So he knew when the guy was hiding something. 

Something sharp and tangled twisted in Tom’s chest, something he’d been trying to root out with years of therapy but wasn’t ever going to get rid of completely. He tried to shake it off and busied himself with getting a glass of water, with heading upstairs to shower, with rinsing the chlorine off his skin, paying attention to every small action to try and keep his brain focused on what was real, rather than chewing over what wasn’t.

Because of course there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Maverick was acting like this. Tom couldn’t think of one right now but that didn’t mean one didn’t exist. Since when had he understood everything his husband did? The man willingly ate snacks in bed and had to be told to take his shoes off at the door for some reason, did Tom convince himself his marriage was in trouble because of that? Of course not.

Maverick just happened to have an isolated hideaway he was spending increasing amounts of time at and he was hesitant to show or explain to his husband. And that was…fine. 

Tom stopped, halfway through pulling a shirt on. He was pretty sure this counted as chewing over it.

That tight, tangled feeling was biting into his chest again, it had grown thorns while he hadn’t been looking. He tried to take a breath and tell himself he was being an idiot but it just clenched in response, threatening to do some real damage, threatening to spiral. 

Alright then, fuck it. He’d prove to himself that he was being an idiot. 

Fully dressed, Tom went into the kitchen and put together a fairly passable short notice picnic. A flask of coffee, sandwiches, those ridiculously hot chips Maverick liked for some inexplicable reason, even the cold pierogi from the fridge to get himself some extra points. Enough for the two of them to have a nice afternoon together, doing whatever the hell it was Mav was doing up there. 

After all, Maverick had never explicitly told him not to come up to the hangar. This wasn’t breaking a rule or crossing a boundary, not technically, this was just going to spend some time with his husband and put a goddamn sock in the mouth of his anxiety. 

So Tom grabbed his keys and headed out of the door, climbing into what Bradley and Mav insisted on calling his Midlife Crisis Mobile and Tom instead called a perfectly reasonable car for someone who’s job had been to go very fast. The drive through the desert was calming, enough that he almost considered turning back a few times, more willing to believe he didn’t need this as the horizon fell away into an expanse of golden sand. 

But Tom kept driving all the same, maybe putting his foot down a little harder than he needed to, just to feel the wind in his hair. Jaw working, the whole world rushing past him in a blur, no one thing able to catch him and pin him down, the whole confusing world just meaningless noise. It wasn’t flying, not quite.

But it was as close as he was going to get these days. 

It had been his eyes in the end, not the cancer or the crash. The slightest fuzz in the edges of his vision and suddenly Tom was being told he couldn’t fly anymore. After he’d worked so hard to hold himself together, it was something so goddamn small that finally grounded him, something he couldn’t fight through with sheer force of will. 

Tom’s fingers tightened on the wheel and he pressed his foot down harder, trying to force those thoughts into the noise. It was working less the older he got. 

The hangar came into view after an hour or so as the roads grew rougher and more twisting, dust clouds billowing up behind the wheels now. Mav’s bike was there so he drew in next to it, just outside of the enormous doors. He put his heel to the horn a few times to announce himself, already smiling as he climbed out of the car, just at the thought of seeing Maverick, the look of surprise on his face, the way it would melt into that crooked tooth smile, the way he’d run at him and knock any last doubts out of his mind with a flying hug. 

That smile dropped like a lead weight as instead, he got Maverick ducking out of the doors, shirtless in just a pair of grease stained jeans, eyes wild with panic. He saw Ice and that panic cracked into out and out terror. 

“Oh fuck…” he grimanced, putting his back to the chipped wood door like he was ready to defend it, “You’re not supposed to be here…”

Ice stopped dead, voice flat, “You have thirty seconds to do better than that, Mitchell.”

As he watched Maverick’s mouth work, as he watched him fidget with the chain that held their dog tags, a sure sign that he was about to say something he didn’t want to admit, Tom’s anxiety helpfully provided him with an avalanche of words that were going to come out of his mouth and ruin his life. Hundreds of options for precisely how this was going to hurt him. 

But, as ever, Maverick surprised him. 

“Fuck…and it’s not even close to your birthday…” he groaned, pushing a hand through his hair and leaving a large smudge of what looked like engine oil on the side of his face. 

Tom was no less confused but he was slightly less terrified, “Excuse me?”

Maverick groaned and leaned back against the door, head thumping against the splintering, scuffed wood, “Like I can’t even try and make this seem deliberate, it’s a whole goddamn year away…”

“What exactly does my birthday have to do with this?” Tom frowned, feeling like he was missing a few very important pieces of this admittedly already strange puzzle. 

“Because this was supposed to be the year I finally got you back!” Maverick covered his eyes and groaned in frustration, proving he definitely did not know his hands were covered in oil, “You nail it every single time and I had such a good idea for once but apparently I married freaking Sherlock Holmes…”

“Hardly. You’re just ridiculously unsubtle, Mav,” Tom tilted his head, “And I’m still standing over here with about a third of a clue what you’re talking about.”

Now looking like a raccoon, Maverick dropped his hands and gave him a coy smile, “Any chance I can convince you to just get back in your car and forget you came out here? At least until March?”

Tom had to smile wryly, “None in the slightest, Captain.”

Maverick sighed but the smile stayed, growing an edge of excitement, “God, you’re stubborn…alright then. I’ll just  tie a bow around my dick on your birthday, I guess.” 

He rolled the door back just a little, enough to make a gap that broad shouldered Tom could slip through but not enough to show what was inside. He’d need to go and see for himself. Mav just stood to one side and gestured grandly, like a carnival showman, his smile growing wider.

Only feeling slightly apprehensive, Tom moved from the desert heat into the cool shade, 

When he saw what was inside, his anxiety had nothing to say. The rest of him was feeling a little lost for words too. 

“Pete…” he breathed softly, hearing his own surprise echo in the dim expanse, hearing the deep emotion in his voice and for once not flinching back.

Maverick beamed and threw the door wide open, letting the sunlight flood in, brightening the space so Tom could think, numb with surprise, yep, he’s actually done this. 

The plane was old, there was no denying that. The paint was peeling a little, some of the panels and parts clearly weren’t original, in fact it was a Frankenstien’s monster of different bits and pieces now the light was on it. Just from a glance, Tom knew Maverick had dragged this thing from actual ruin, nothing like this was still in the air and, honestly, there was probably a good reason for that. 

It was one of the most beautiful things Tom had ever seen. It would have been the most, if his husband wasn’t standing behind him with that light in his eyes and that smile on his face. 

“You can’t fly for the Navy anymore,” Mav came and stood beside him, gazing at Tom’s face like he was trying to memorize it, “But a privately owned aircraft is a whole other ballgame…”

Those words settled over him and any hope he had of getting through this with dry eyes disappeared. 

He tore his eyes away from the plane- his plane- and looked at Maverick. Everything this man had given him, his heart, his protection, his faith, the countless ways he’d already saved Tom’s life and here he was doing it one more time. 

“You got me back in the air, Pete,” he murmured, those words far too small to contain everything they meant. 

But Mav understood. Of course he did, he’d always been one of the few people who understood. 

“God, I missed that smile on your face, baby,” Maverick gave a tear streaked laugh. 

His arms were already open when Tom pulled him into a fierce hug, tight enough to linger as an ache in his ribs. In that embrace, those tears dampening his bare shoulder, the shaky exhale against his ear and the black smudges Mav’s hands were leaving on his shoulders, were all the things there just weren’t words for. 

“I love you,” Tom whispered, “This is…this is just…”

“I love you too,” Maverick swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, “But maybe save the end of that sentence until we see if she’ll actually fly. I literally pulled this thing out of a junkyard a year ago and I’m pretty brilliant at fixing broken shit but still…”

Tom chuckled roughly and pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, “You managed to fix me. I trust you, Pete.”

And he did. Tom Kazansky hadn’t always trusted Pete Mitchell but he’d learned his lesson real fast and hadn’t gone back on it in thirty years. He definitely wasn’t going to start today. 

It took a lot more golden afternoons together in that hangar, especially after their first was mostly spent with Ice showing Maverick just how much he appreciated his gift and then eating their picnic cross legged on the floor when that demonstration proved the final undoing of that old sofa Mav kept there. But with the two of them working on it, along with Bradley when he and Jake were in town, the day came a lot quicker than it would have otherwise, still nowhere near his birthday. 

Tom’s heart was in his mouth all morning, right up until the point he sat in the pilot’s seat. As soon as he did, all the fear, all the uncertainty, all the discomfort with the body he was in now, it all disappeared. He could have been in his twenties again, with those ridiculous frosted tips and always pulling back his smile because he was self conscious about his teeth, only ever certain of his ability to fly better than anyone else. 

Right up until the moment Maverick leaned forward from the seat behind, a small, foil wrapped stick in his hand, “Can’t forget this.”

Tom grinned, leaning back to take it, unwrapping the gum, “Thanks baby…”

There was the slightest rattle as the engine started up, a vaguely off center feeling as Tom took them to the end of the runway. This wasn’t a military grade plane, it was old and awkward and temperamental. Tom was already head over heels, even before he kicked the engine into gear, fired the engines and sent them hurtling forward. 

He knew it by heart, the motions of flicking buttons, easing the throttle, snapping up the wheels and the wings to take them into the air. The rest was just inhaling. The rest was just freedom. 

Tom’s vision was blurring, though he thought it was more down to the tears. It didn’t matter, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Somewhere in amongst it all, as the world turned and spun around them, gold then blue and back again, as they chased down the sunset, Tom felt Maverick reach forward and put a hand on his shoulder, gripping tight. Keeping him grounded even as he left everything else behind, reminding him what he got to go home to when he was done. 

Tom could have shouted over the noise but he just put his hand over Maverick’s, knowing it would say what he needed it to. Sometimes silence said enough. 

Tom Kazansky wasn’t that kid anymore. But right now he couldn’t be more relieved.

[imjustasimpxd]

All Actions Have Consequences | Chapter Three

➬ Kento Nanami x Fem reader

| Series Masterlist | Chapter four | General Masterlist | Blog Home |

Pairing : Mafia Kento Nanami x fem reader

Summary : They say evil actions can be done with good intentions, this is especially true for Kento Nanami. Growing up, he was taught to always remain honest, respectful, and hard working. For the most part he was, that is, until being fired from his job forced him into a financial chokehold. Desperate to figure out a way to provide for his wife, Nanami crosses paths with the leader of his country’s biggest underground mafia empire, deciding to secretly work under them in order to make ends meet. We know desperate times call for desperate measures, but how long can Nanami hide this vile profession from his wife before it comes back to bite him?

Word count : Almost 4,000 words

Warnings : slight kissing and affection, Nanami is anxious and nervous, mentions of “verbally abusive behavior”,

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Nanami had one hand on the wheel while his other was kept intertwined with yours, fingers rubbing back and forth in a gentle manner across your skin. His touch was so tender, so loving and patient: a complete contrast to the way he was feeling on the inside.

Although he was clearly trying his best to deliver a calming and peaceful atmosphere through his actions, there was still an undeniably heavy sense of tension looming around the two of you.

The radio loudly played an upbeat melody that could be heard from all corners of the vehicle, however, the car ride over to your parent’s house still felt silent all the same.

Nanami’s muscles were tense as his hand gripped around yours, his face adorned a slight scowl, and even his voice when he did speak up felt hesitant and quiet.

Despite the unconvincing “I’m just tired from work” he had given earlier when you asked why he seemed so uptight, you still knew something was troubling him. You resisted the urge to ask him again because you knew what kind of answer you’d get, but regardless, it didn’t change the fact that you could practically feel the conflict brewing inside him.

You didn’t have to be a detective to know why he was acting this way, you were all too familiar with the anxiety your husband displayed whenever it came time to see your father in person. There was an ever-present sense of dread that seemed to settle around him whenever meetings between the two men took place.

A wave of guilt festered inside your stomach as you gazed at your husband’s nervous expression, noticing the subtle tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel beginning to pick up its pace.

It pained you to make him go when you understood how much he was dreading it, however, it pained you even more to continue to watch your own husband and father not get along.

Sure it wasn’t as big of a deal right now since you hardly saw your parents, but what about holidays? What about family gatherings? Were you supposed to just exclude your own husband from those meaningful events to avoid any conflict arising?

What about when you had kids? How could you bear letting your children see the way their grandfather would treat their own father? Would your Dad even love your children the same knowing that they were just as much a part of Nanami as they were of you? What if one of the kids looked like Nanami? What would happen then? Surely your father wouldn’t verbally abuse his own grandchild the way he did his own son-in-law.

There were so many questions, so many uncertainties arising because of the conflict between two of the most important men in your life. This marriage wasn’t just the bonding of two people, it was the bonding of two families as well, and if either of those families wanted to live in peace together then they’d have to find a way to get along.

None of this would fix itself, and frankly, none of this pain and frustration was going to disappear either unless you did something about it. So, no matter what it took, in order to create a better future for everyone involved in this unity, you promised yourself you’d work your hardest to get your father to see Kento Nanami the way you did: As the selfless and kind man he truly was.

You didn’t know exactly what it was about your husband that seemed to always set your father’s teeth on edge, but regardless, you’d stand by Kento’s side and defend him against anything your father could throw at him. Because Nanami wasn’t just some random guy you used to have a class with during college: No, he was the first man you ever truly felt valued with.

Of course, there had been other men in your life before your husband came along, even one you almost married. And it’s not like any of those men were bad people, one in particular you had known since you were a young girl, and even back then he had always been tremendously kind and sweet towards you. But regardless, it didn’t change the fact that they all, including him, had been arranged by your father to be your potential husband.

No matter what meaningful gestures they would commit, or whatever affectionate words that would slip past their mouths: none of it could convince you of their feelings. It may have come off as hard to please now that you thought about it, but honestly, with the temptation of a mountain of wealth only accessible by your hand in marriage, who wouldn’t blame you for being skeptical of every man your father pushed towards you; no matter how loving they truly were.

It was a dreadful way to live: never knowing if a man’s affection was given based on his actual love for you, or for his selfish desire to gain your money and position by marrying you.

That’s why you turned down every suitor your father sent your way no matter how upset it made him, and that’s exactly why you married Kento Nanami instead.

Because Kento Nanami was the first man who showed genuine affection towards you without knowing anything about your wealth and social status.

In fear of the same uncertainty arising with any other man, you had kept your family’s identity a secret from everyone when you attended that college; so Nanami was never even aware you had a sky-high inheritance lingering around you.

However, even when you finally did confess your background to him, Kento Nanami never once become greedy because of it, nor did he ever give up on pursuing you despite your father threatening to take away any money he’d get if you married him.

Whether it was something as simple as his gentle gaze when it remained on you, or something as monumental as when he blatantly declared that he would willingly work multiple jobs just to provide for you: either way, in your heart, Kento Nanami had proved that he undoubtedly loved you for you, and you only.

You had heard every compliment known to man, received every bit of “special treatment” a man dating you should give, but none of it felt special until it came from Nanami. The words “you look beautiful” had been spoken to you millions of times already, but it only ever had you blushing when it was said by Nanami.

Because with him it felt real, it felt genuine.

“Is this just an act?” “Does he really love me like he says?”

Those words had anxiously rummaged around inside your brain with every man you had been with; every single one except the man who now sat next to you, the same one whose hand was clasped around yours as he pressed the brake pedal in response to the red light straight ahead.

“Does he really love me like he says he does?”

You never had to ask yourself that question when it came to Nanami; he had already assured you of that answer millions of times through his actions alone; and he would continue to do so for as long as life would allow him.

That’s why, no matter how hard it was to feel separated from your family, or how painful it was to hear “you deserve better” from the people you were close to: you wouldn’t yield in your fight to defend your husband.

He was hated not just by your family, but by your friends as well, and anyone else who cared for you: because all they ever saw him for was a greedy little gold-digger.

However, you prayed that would change tonight, and you were already starting to feel the slightest bit hopeful about that possibility since your father had willingly invited you and your husband over for dinner.

Maybe this was a turning point?

Maybe… things would finally change… for the better…

The car quickly came to a stop in the circular drive of your parent’s house, its headlights illuminating one of the most achingly beautiful houses Kento Nanami had ever seen.

He had been to your parent’s mansion several times, and even now he couldn’t deny its breathtaking structure and design. The exterior was draped with dozens of stone columns and a couple of large balconies; the fountain that stood in the middle of the yard was flowing at a rapid pace. Even the panels lining the windows and doors looked as if they cost more than Nanami’s paycheck. Everything about the house itself was beyond mesmerizing, but it wasn’t exactly the same case with the people who lived inside.

A shuddering breath escaped Nanami’s lips as he turned off the car, his hand anxiously reaching to grasp the handle so he could get out. However, before he could, your voice suddenly filled the air, stopping him in his place before he could open the door.

“Ken?”

His head quickly whipped around to look you in the eyes. “Yeah?” He questioned, curious to know what you were needing.

“You don’t have to be nervous about the dinner, okay?” You spoke frankly, watching Kento’s eyes widen, his face soon rotating away from you in a sheepish manner once you began exposing the thoughts he was hoping to keep concealed.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re-t-talking…” Your husband quickly scrambled to deny your veracious assumptions, his words stuttering past his lips as he attempted to convince you otherwise. But no matter how hard he could try, you’d never fall for it, and deep down, a small part of him knew it too.

“Ken?” You spoke in order to get his attention, placing your hand reassuringly on his shoulder subsequently. “You don’t have to worry about tonight, I’ll be there the entire time, okay?” Your fingers softly caressed his back, watching as his head turned towards you once again, his heart softening instantly once he met your gentle gaze.

“I know.” He spoke with a hushed sigh, his hand reaching to hold the one you had placed atop his shoulder. “I just don’t really feel like being belittled tonight.”

You felt your heart sink at the way your husband’s expressions lowered, the color seeming to drain from his face as he sat there, contemplating all the things that could go wrong once he stepped foot inside that beautiful mansion.

It was painful to have to witness, but in the end, you knew this would all be worth it if the relationship between your husband and your father improved.

“I know honey,” You agreed with him, lifting your free hand to swipe away the few strands of blonde hair hanging across his forehead. “But hey,” you continued, “if at any point you feel uncomfortable, then just tell me and we’ll leave, alright?”

A gentle smile stretched across your face as you spoke, followed by one last sentence your husband didn’t realize he needed to hear before now.

“We’re a team Kento, and I don’t plan on switching sides anytime soon.”

Nanami’s subtle scowl immediately softened at your words, his heartbeat slowing momentarily as he stared at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Even after marrying him made you lose your livelihood, and caused a separation between you and your family, here you still were, willing to defend him at a moment’s notice if it were necessary.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Nanami leaned forward to place an affectionate kiss on your forehead, his words soft and warm as he mumbled them against your skin.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, a gentle giggle suddenly tickling at your throat when your husband’s lips began to linger on your face, trailing down to plant a couple more kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose; then continuing as his lips started to journey down towards your neck.

“Ken! Stop, we need to go inside!” Your hands moved to find his chest, using it to push yourself away with another bubbly giggle.

“Don’t worry love, they won’t care if we’re a little late.” He teased, allowing a bold smirk to line his lips as he started leaning back over the center console, hoping to finish his work.

“Mr. Nanami! Don’t say things like that outside my parent’s house!” Your hands lifted to cover your face as you felt a familiar warmth painting across your cheeks. You were blushing hard, embarrassingly hard; almost as if this was your first time ever being kissed by him, or in general.

“Hmm, looks like someone’s a little shy tonight.” He shook his head playfully at your behavior, chuckling to himself as he watched the way you blindly swatted him away. “Guess you want me to wait till later then, huh?” He added, immediately earning a flustered “Yes, please wait!” as you continued to cover your face, still hopelessly failing to hide the crimson shading traveling across your cheeks.

“Fine,” He pulled away, a soft whine lacing with his tone as he spoke. “But I’m continuing where I left off when we get home.”

Your eyes peeked from behind your hands, finally placing them down at your sides again when you saw him reach for his door handle. Once he stepped outside the vehicle, Nanami’s body then made its way around the front of the car to stop at your side, grasping the handle to pull your door open and offering a hand to help you out.

As your hand laced with his, using it to step out of the car, Nanami glanced behind him, eyes looming over the beautiful mansion he had been dreading the entire car ride over. His breath became staggered once more as he stared that luxurious house down, his brain already preparing itself for the argument-filled evening he figured was coming his way.

It would’ve been an understatement to say that Nanami was not looking forward to hearing your father’s insults tonight. However, an even bigger understatement was to say that Nanami was quite shocked when he was greeted with a warm smile as your father opened the front doors to the mansion.

“Well look who it is. I’m glad you two made it!”

The both of you stood frozen in place, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before you. There your father was, smiling ear to ear as held the door open for the both of you, his appearance suggesting he was actually happy to see you two.

Nanami quickly glanced down at you in search of answers, hoping maybe you knew what was going on. However, when he inspected your face, he saw a perplexed expression that matched the one spread across his own features; telling him you were just as confused as he was when it came to the sudden shift in your father’s behavior.

“Please, make yourselves at home.” He grinned, motioning for the both of you to step inside.

Make yourselves at home? Nanami had never been welcomed in this home, at least not by your father. So to stand there, and watch the same man who used to curse Kento’s very existence, now act friendly and welcoming towards him, as if the two men were old friends, was truly a sight to behold.

“It’s good to see you dad.” You quickly broke the silence by stepping inside, lacing an arm around your father’s back to give him a gentle hug.

“It’s good to see you too darling.” He responded, his arms wrapping around you as well to return the hug. Your father’s eyes then glanced up at your husband who had just finished walking through the doorway, his lips parting to surprisingly acknowledge the man. “And Kento, my dear boy, it’s good to see you.”

Your husband almost fainted right then and there. This had to be a dream, right? Because there’s no way he was hearing this right now. Maybe there was another man named Kento coming up behind him and that’s who your father was speaking to. That had to be it! Because there was no other explanation that made sense.

However, as your husband subtly looked over his shoulder, he found no one: meaning those words really were directed towards him.

“Oh um,” Namami quickly cleared his throat as he turned back around, “-it’s good to see you too sir.” He stuttered, still feeling awkward and overwhelmed by the whole thing.

After shaking the hand that was held out to him, your father then went on to spell out the itinerary for the rest of the night. “I have to go help your mother real quick, but there’s a bunch of people here to see you two, so please enjoy yourselves. Dinner will be ready in just a little bit.” His smile was wide and bright, his hand lifting in the air to send a friendly wave to the both of you before he walked off, leaving you and your husband silently standing by the front entryway; minds still overflowing with confusion.

“What was that?” You felt your husband’s gentle voice whisper near your ear as he joined you at your side, his arm lacing around your waist in the process.

“I don’t know,” you glanced up at him. “But he did say he wanted to make amends. Maybe that’s what he’s doing?”

Nanami doubted that immensely. He was fully aware that people could change with time, however, even given the amount of time it’s been since their last interaction, he still found it awfully suspicious that your father’s attitude could have changed this much by now.

“Just try to give him a chance okay?”

That was the very last thing your husband wanted to do, although, as he looked down at you, taking in that hopeful expression you were wearing, he knew exactly what you were thinking. You weren’t as skeptical as he was when it came to your father’s recent show of behavior. In fact, the whole thing seemed to bring you some reassurance that tonight might actually turn out the way you’d been praying for. Even though Nanami wasn’t convinced, he didn’t want to demolish that optimism you were clinging to, so he knew he’d have to cooperate.

“Okay, I will.” He forced a smile, retracting his hand from your waist and moving it downwards to entangle your fingers with his.

You flashed him a thankful grin, allowing your head to lean against his arm before your lips separated to speak once more. “I wonder though,” You began, eyes squinting to investigate the rest of the mansion from where you stood near the front door. “Dad said there were people here to see us. But I thought this was just a dinner between the four of us?”

Come to think of it, Nanami did recall your father saying that. I guess his words just hadn’t even registered yet due to the shock you both were in at the surprisingly friendly atmosphere you were greeted with earlier.

Still, now that he thought it over, that might be playing a part in your father’s behavior. With the presence of other people around he would be forced to behave, lest he wanted to risk receiving a bad reputation.

Not that it would probably even affect him that much if he was talked about as being “demeaning” and “harsh.” With full control of one of the largest food companies in the entire country, the man didn’t exactly have to worry about losing his position over something as minimal as being “bad mannered.”

But regardless, rumors and gossip is annoying to have to deal with, so the existence of people other than his family could prove reason enough to be acting as friendly and kind as your father was behaving.

“Maybe he just-” Nanami had begun to speak, however, his words were quickly jerked to a halt when the thunderous sound of a man’s voice suddenly called out your name.

“Hey, Y/n!!”

Both Kento’s head, as well as yours, jerked upwards in unison, eager to identify the voice that had interrupted your private chat.

A quiet gasp immediately escaped your husband’s lips once he caught sight of the voice, instantly recognizing him as the tall and arrogant individual he had always hoped to avoid: Satoru Gojo.

“How are you?! It’s been so long!”

Nanami watched as the bothersome scene took place right before his very eyes. Your hand suddenly released the grip it had around your husband’s fingers and immediately your arms stretched in the air for when the white-haired man would quickly engulf you in a tight hug; his hands seeming to instinctively slick themselves around your waist in a manner that made Nanami’s eyes twitch in annoyance.

The two had never met, but Kento had heard enough stories from you to realize who this man was: the one you practically grew up with due to the fact that your family’s companies were in partnership with each other.

Your husband was fully aware that the two of you were apparently very close to each other, however, he never realized exactly how close until he heard you open your mouth to speak to the man.

“Toru! I didn’t know you were back from America yet. Why didn’t you tell me?” Your face lit up with excitement, a gentle smile adorning your lips as you gazed towards the man’s mesmerizingly cerulean eyes.

Wait “Toru?” So you had a nickname for him too? How long has that been in use?

“I just got back a couple of days ago,” Gojo responded, only just now releasing the grip his arms had previously captivated you in. “I was going to tell you, but your father invited me over so I figured I’d surprise you when you got here instead.” A wide grin spread across the man’s face as he kindly glanced down at you, his eyes looming with a sense of familiarity that made your husband’s hands irritably tighten into fists.

“Well, you certainly did.” You laughed playfully, witnessing the way Gojo’s eyes peered behind you to glance at your husband, the one you left awkwardly standing near the front door.

“And you must be the handsome Kento I’ve heard so much about,” Gojo made his way over to Nanami, holding his hand out in order to formally greet him for the first time.

Your husband did his best to hide the scowl manifesting across his face since he knew you were looking, but gosh it was hard when this man was already getting on Nanami’s last nerve.

What’s with that smirk plastered across his face? Was he mocking him? What about the handshake, what was that supposed to mean? Was he trying to be rude? Or had the man just been in America too long that he was just used to that by now?

It had only been a couple of minutes since meeting him, even less time actually interacting with him, but even so, Satoru Gojo was proving himself to be a pain in the rear; well, to Nanami at least.

Still, as much as Nanami wished he could grab your hand and yank you both out that front door, he knew there was no way out of this: meaning he’d have to actually acknowledge the white-haired man he always dreaded having to meet. So, after a quick clear of his throat, your husband finally obliged and stuck his hand out, uttering a simple sentence in the process.

“Just call me Mr. Nanami please.”

If you want to see what the mansion in this episode looks like then click here🤗

✴️HELLO GUYS, I apologize for being so inactive lately! I’ve just been EXTREMELY BUSY. School has been honestly so mentally draining right now, to the point where I wasn’t even getting much sleep. So because of this, I was way too stressed out to even be able to write anything. However, while it’s still difficult, I’m doing better now, and was able to FINALLY come out with chapter three of this series! SO PLEASE ENJOY!✴️

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[fictionkinfessions]

To the fandom who seem to think I got married within those three years and lived happily ever after... That is just not how things went. You don't seem to understand how grief and trauma work.

I lived a long life, I outlived most of the people I loved, but it was not a 'happy ending'. I was dealing with the trauma of being a war veteran before I even hit 20 (and the horrors we went through during our time in the military are unimaginable). And more than that, I was wracked by grief and guilt.

I had lost my soulmate. My best friend. The boy I loved in ways so intense that they transcend time and space, and no words could ever do justice to. Do you people think I just moved on from that? I was never the same. I had a permanent hole in my heart once he was gone, a dull ache in my chest that never went away. We had always been together since we were little kids. The circumstances of his death and being without him destroyed me. We promised we'd be together forever and then we weren't, and all I could do was wait to reunite with him in hell.

Not only that but I effectively lost the other most important person to me, since I didn't get to see her again for a long time and both of us were so destroyed by losing a third of our soul. Our family had been torn apart (for all of us, this wasn't the first time, but it was the one that hurt the most).

I had to rebuild the world and carry the guilt of knowing all those people and all that destruction was caused by the man I loved more than anything, who I'd shared dreams with since we were children, whose touch felt like home. I felt selfish for mourning him when he'd killed millions. But as one of my closest friends told me back then, I had to grieve for the man I loved. I couldn't grieve for all of humanity. I was only human myself, after all.

And yes, eventually I did marry her as is the common interpretation. I found some kind of peace and she was my rock. My constant. She became my home. But that took a lot of time, and a lot of pain and tears. I didn't just jump into bed with her at the first opportunity. I didn't 'rizz her up' and make her my wife straight away. We also never had children - neither of us were the type of people who would have wanted that, and given our pasts there was far too much trauma there.

I was never the same. She knew that too. She could see it in my eyes and the way I used to stare out at the ocean contemplating whether it was really worth staying alive. She knew that I never stopped loving him unconditionally until the day I died, despite everything. She understood that he was a part of me nothing would ever be able to erase or replace. And I felt guilty in turn that she was stuck with me, a man who was trapped in the past and couldn't get over his grief. A man who felt like he never really grew up at all and stayed a boy. I felt like a burden, and I felt like she deserved better.

Neither of us felt like good people. We had both done terrible things. But she was always a good person to me, and I to her, so that's all that really mattered. I loved her so dearly, but the way our love is described most of the time leaves a pit in my stomach, because no one understands us at all.

This was very long, I do apologize. But these are some feelings that have been bothering me for a long time. - 🐚🌊⛅

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