#anyway i am going to try to get another fic out soon but no guarantees

[impeccablebackside]

are there any "habits" that each queen, on purpose or not, is having while sex, that would immediately make the other tom/queen that is fucking them go like: ,,ah jup. i'm definetly fucking teazer/vic/tanto right now."? like something typical or characteristic they always do?

Something that is meant to be unique to a queen is a concept that is dually easy and difficult to define. Aside from physical features (and divine physical feel), each queen does differ in other ways, so it is a good question anon. A lot of their typical characteristics are rather interwoven into basically any / all of the posts on this blog, so it may seem minor in the context of the ask, but it is an 'identifier' for each queen. I suppose read through some of them for ideas more specific to any given topic, or just ask me if you want. I would always be interested in reading about what you think if I do not mention something you have in mind.

Vic does not have anything outwardly unique for her partner(s) to necessarily notice when they are fucking her good. She greatly prefers to keep eye contact at all times during sex, and that is something that Plato certainly appreciates. They get lost in one another's eye, feeding off of the pleasure and enjoyment the other is experiencing. The sheer amount of kissing and passion that results from that is something that no other couple have. Aside from that, Vic cannot help but 'squeak' when she is really getting taken apart. When the sensation is overwhelming to the point that she cannot verbalize properly it with words.

With Rumple, it is not difficult to tell who you are with. How do you know you are fucking her? She is loud and very vocal when she getting fucked. Loud. You will know, and so will everyone else. Little is as satisfying to her as being able to express herself as much as she can when the pleasure hits. Even when she is alone, she still cannot keep it down. Otherwise, she also loves fiddling with and rubbing herself at all times during sex. Milking everything sensation-wise out of the encounter. That is not the only milking she does either. The little queen has a habit of fingering her tom's ass when she gives a blowjob or handjob, and that is another way to know the calico is involved.

Almost everything Tanto does could be considered something unique to her. The way she communicates and her mannerisms are inseparable from her 'true self', even when she is intimate. There is an aura about her that makes every encounter seem like it stops time and she is the only other person around. More tangibly though, Tanto has a habit of closing her eyes and zoning out as she is being pleasured. Almost meditating on the experience and getting wrapped in the bliss beyond the physical world. She even drools a bit sometimes when she relinquishes herself to the control and attention of someone she trusts. If you are the one fucking her, the beauty of her reactions, namely her squirting, is a good indicator. Though most noticeably depending on her mood and the sexual relationship, the torbie has a habit of biting her partners. Not necessarily hard, but still meaningfully. Her oral fixation and feedback from nibbling and biting excites her, and when she gets that look in her eyes, her more feral nature takes over.

With Cass, the tends to let out a fair bit of dirty talk during sex. She does not have any specific habits, and anything that she feels is uncouth with her is kept to a minimal. Even when she is intimate, she still wants to attain a certain 'public image'. Not that whoever is fucking her cares at all about her habits. Her body one of a goddess, and anyone lucky enough to get with her will be left dreaming about her perfect pussy that swells when she is getting fucked and has 'creamy' milky type of wetness that coats whatever she is 'wrapped around'. When she is done and has her orgasm, it looks like she actually cums a bit. It makes others yearn to experience it.

Deme has a tendency of tucking her face into whoever is on top or below her. Hiding away from the bitter world and into a place of warmth and solitude. Being surrounded and wrapped in the body of her lover is just as special as any pleasure. When the pleasure gets more heated, she will claw against the back (or front) of her partner. Few people know, but she always gives a little 'thank you' clench with her pussy after she cums.

Bomba tends to grab onto her partner in reaction to getting fucked. Besides her words or moans, the queen grabs and squeezes whatever is within reach to communicate her enjoyment. With Tugger, she loves grabbing ahold of his mane and pulling on it hard. It does not translate nearly as well with others, but the habit is still there. Otherwise, she gives some messy head sometimes and is sort of the only queen who does.

Jenny is noted to always give instructions and pointers to her partner. She knows what works and what falls flat, and is much too experienced to let someone else figuratively go down the wrong path when they are with her. She also is one of the only queens who smacks your ass during sex.

Jelly does essentially no oral sex, and does not really enjoy oral all that much. She is the only queen like that. Does she make it up in other ways? Not really, but she never needs to. Her partner knows what to expect, and there are plenty of other things to do.

[notroosterbradshaw]

warm blood

FULL FIC HERE.

The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sunkissed curls had you cackling. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.

“I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he protested, realising how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in...” his eyes fluttered closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. He didn’t want to admit how long it had been since someone had touched him like that.

Continuing to press your fingertips into his scalp, his shoulders dropped, completely melting in your touch. “This must be the longest dry spell you’ve ever had,” you reckoned quietly.

“Feels like it,” he said dismally.

“How long?” you dared ask.

“It’s goin’ with me to the grave, don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered in reply as you hide your grin with a sip of your beer. He turned back to you and made a face; he’d let pretences lie. “Maybe you’re right, I just need a girlfriend.”

“Rooster, you have no trouble finding someone to fuck… why are you off your game? Why don’t you go drag all the single ladies in with a song or something?” you suggested, hoping to perk him up. He shook his head. Honestly, he didn’t need to sit at the piano to have all eyes on him. At any point of the night, you’d look up and find some poor soul caught staring.

“Naw,” he didn’t feel like the spectacle tonight.

“Want me to wing woman for you?” you offered. “Babe on the other side of the bar. Tall, curvy...” you chewed your own lip.

“You’d do that?” he asked, honestly touched.

“Of course. I can’t deal with you when you’re being a whiny little bitch. If it means you get your cock wet, I’m here for you, pal.”

He laughed quietly as you asked him how you looked. He gave you a once over and frowned. “Beautiful, but are you trying to get laid, or am I?”

"I swore off your kind, any kind, as a New Year’s resolution. I want the year to myself,” you grandstanded, and he chuckled.

“You’ll be begging for sex soon enough,” he straightened, glaring at you out of the side of his hazel eyes and took another long slug of his beer.

“I’ve got toys, I’ve got fingers,” you reminded him, reaching for him with grabby hands as he bit back a grin and leaned away from you.

“You fuckin’ deviant,” he joked. It was untrue, but he loved to tease you… and you loved when he teased you too.

“Hey. If I want to find someone to share my time with, I won’t hesitate to break that resolution if I need to. They’re made to be broken anyway,” you shrugged casually.

He nodded, not disagreeing. “I’m sick of my hands,” he muttered as you took the hand that rested on his quad and cupped it in your own. You didn’t know why, he brought it up and they were just there begging to be held. He laughed quietly and gripped your palm back. “I just miss the warmth, you know?”

Putting the back of his hand to your cheek, he laughed again. You gave him the eyes, and he sighed.

“Don’t start. Knock it off immediately.”

“No, tell me exactly what you miss. Tell me what you need.” You settled in. You would love to know what turned Rooster Bradshaw on. He wasn’t like the other guys – he kept his conquests quiet. Lowkey. Sure, you knew when he was in the game, he made no secret of his intentions. But gee, he always seemed more complicated than an easy fuck kinda guy.

“You don’t need to hear about any of that stuff,” he rolled his eyes and retrieved his hand, stuffing it back in his jeans pocket. “Trust me, you’ll be just like me soon enough.”

“Look, if you get to a point you’re absolutely desperate, blue from top to toe, I’ll drop my standards for a night and give you a night you won’t forget, okay?” you tried to bite back the laugh that bubbled under the surface. You weren’t surprised he gave you the bird in response. “You’re just lazy. Go lay a line on any woman in here, and I guarantee, she will be putty in your hands.”

It seemed like such a nut-up or shut-up order, Rooster knew he had no choice but to follow through. Standing to his height and adjusting to his posture, he muttered, “Fine,” he stole your fresh beer as you protested and wandered over to the gorgeous woman, who if truth be told, was exactly his usual type, you’d pointed out only moments earlier. Well, what was expected to be his type - that glint in her eye that told him he wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her number either. He had a rule that one-night stands were never at his place. He’d rather sneak out than kick someone out. Win-win really.

[bunniebubbleswrites]

You'll be okay

Cat Grant x F! Superhuman! reader

A/N: Trying adding a summary for the first time... anyways I love her so much. There is a serious lack of fics for her which is super disappointing but I am here to add to it!

Warnings: fainting, mentions of bleeding

Words: 1340

Summary: While fighting a Fort Rozz escapee, you sustain a serious injury and end up fainting from blood loss in your boss's office making her worry a little more than anyone thought possible.

You stood at the front of the D.E.O with Hank and Alex, looking up at the Fort Rozz escapee. It was unlike anything you or Supergirl had ever faced before and Supergirl was still at work, you were supposed to be too but you told Kara you’d take care of this one. 

“Okay, so how do I beat it?” You asked as you crossed your arms. You definitely weren’t an alien but superhuman was close enough or the same to some people. 

“(Y/N) you shouldn’t do this on your own.” Alex looked at you with a look of worry and you understood why. Kara couldn’t lose you so soon after Astra. 

“Alex, I still work for the D.E.O.. Supergirl doesn't. So let me do this on my own.” You looked at Hank and then back at Alex. 

“Just be careful okay.”  Alex wrapped her arms around you in a hug and you recuperated the gesture. You pulled back and gave her a nod and a sad smile.  You could never guarantee that you would come back safe no matter how careful you tried to be, but that was the job. It was what you signed up for.

You geared up with the rest of the D.E.O team that was assigned to go with you. You weren’t doing this on your own no matter how badly you wanted to. 

You sat in the back of the D.E.O truck with the other agents trying to think of an attack plan when the top of the armored truck had a dent made in it and the truck swerved.

You kicked open the door and jumped out of the back of the truck tumbling onto the road. 

“(Y/N). Are you okay?” Hank’s voice came through your ear piece as you pushed yourself up, off the ground. 

“Yea, I’m fine.” You looked around in the dark, seeing no one, only the light of the street lamps and the armored truck you had pushed your way out of. You frantically whipped your head around trying to locate your target. 

Where the hell is it? 

You knew it was around here somewhere. You felt a foot meet you back and you were sent flying into a wall.

Found you.

You stepped out of the rubble looking at your target. You ran right for it, taking it to the ground with you. All you had to do was subdue the escapee, but now you were mad and you were going to use your anger to your advantage. 

You sat on top of the creature, keeping its things under yours. You throw punches at its face. The alien kept dodging your attacks, allowing for your fist to keep hitting the pavement. You couldn’t get a proper hit. The alien took one of its large hands and threw you off with such force you hit another wall. 

You stood needing a second to regain yourself from the impact. You took the gun you had strapped to your thigh and took a few shots at the alien sending it down to the ground. If it’s like any of the other aliens it should heal soon. 

“Fuck, that’s really all it took.” You took a breath in and put your hand onto your side only to feel something wet.You brought your hand up in front of your face and you realized what it was. Blood. 

You looked up at Alex as she got out of one of the black suv’s on the scene. 

“(Y/N), you did really well in-” She cut herself off as she saw the crimson liquid leaking through your suit. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding. Are you okay!?” She took a step towards you and took your arm and put it over her shoulders as her other arm found your waist and placed her hand over yours as you put pressure on the wound. 

“Yea, Alex I’m okay. I just need a bandage to be put on it.” You both walked over towards the car and Alex helped you in. 

“There really is no rush, but this really fucking hurts. Can we get back to the D.E.O as soon as possible?” Hank let out a low chuckle as Alex got into the passenger seat so they could get you bandaged up, so you could go into work tomorrow. 

______________________

You rushed out of the elevator, simultaneously pulling down your skirt and adjusting your bag on your shoulder. You almost threw your bag onto the floor beside your desk and sighed a breath of relief when you heard Cat’s private elevator open. You had just barely made it. 

“Hey (Y/N), should you even be at work right now?”  Winn said as he ran up to you. You jumped just slightly. 

“I’m fine, Winn, it wasn’t that bad.” You smiled up at him leaning back in your chair just slightly. When you leaned back a little farther, you saw Kara waving you over. 

“Gotta go, I think Ms.Grant wants to see me.” You stood from and braced yourself against the back of it for a second. You walked over towards Kara and went in as she held the door open. You gave her a nervous smile and she gave you one as she closed the door behind you. 

“You wanted to see me Ms. Grant.” You clasp your hands together in front of you. 

“Yes (Y/N), since Ker-ha can’t accompany me on my trip next week, I need you to accompany me in her place.” Cat said without looking up at you. 

The room started to tilt in your vision, but you just chalked it up to having not eaten yet that day. “Of course Ms. Grant, I’ll have Kara send me all the information.” You turned and started to walk out of her office but when you reached the door you stopped with your hand on the door handle. 

Your vision started to darken and only when you hit the floor did Ms.Grant look up from what she was doing. She stood from her desk and walked over to your unconscious form, unsure of what to do. 

It was only when she bent down to check your pulse did she notice the crimson liquid seeping through your white shirt. 

Kara had walked into Cat’s office and saw you on the floor and rushed to take care of everything. 

______________________

When you came too you were lying in a hospital bed, feeling a warm hand in yours. You looked around only to see Cat sitting by your bedside looking worried with her hand in yours. 

“Ms. Grant, what are you doing here?”  You struggled to sit up and ultimately gave up when the pain in your side became too much. 

“I was just worried that's all.” You smiled at her and she smiled back. 

“ So I guess you’ve put two and two together?” You raise your eyebrows at her and she lets your hand slip out of her own. 

“The doctors say you’ll be okay, I’ll see you back at work as soon as you're fully healed. I’v asked the doctors to give me updates on your health so I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” She dogged your question by giving you the answers to your next question. 

“Okay Ms. Grant, I heal pretty fast so I’ll see you soon.” Cat let out a scoff and took your hand in her again. 

“That means taking it easy and no being Supergirls sidekick for a while.” She squeezed your hand and gathered her things. 

“I’m not supergirl’s sidekick.” You said anger slightly showing in your voice. 

“I know, but you sure make it look like that,” Cat slung her coat over her arm. “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, but please get better soon. I’ve put off my trip for you.” She walked over and placed a kiss to your forehead and walked out of the room, leaving you to rest.

[qjaiden]

hey buddy...drop us a snippet (or write gay cbeeduo whichever is easier)

cn you vote for yourself? anyways ch1 to a fic i will prolly. never finish, supposed to be tntduo but furst chapter is jst wilbur arriving home:D tad bit of crime boys

Fwoosh.

The sound of airplanes taking off echoed in the fluorescent-lit airport along with the loud chaos that came with traveling. Crowds of people were scurrying off to make their way to their flights hoping to not miss their plane, while others were simply wandering and trying to find ubers, family, or taxi drivers who were key to getting them to where they needed to be.

The buzz and rush that was guaranteed to be in a place of strangers alike rushing to be somewhere was almost engraved into Wilbur Soot’s brain as he exited the plane and entered the mess that he was put into. With a beaten-up orange car seat in his hand, Wilbur made his way through the crowds of families, lovers, and friends. It was early morning, around 9 am in Utah, and regardless of being in a place of travel, he felt quite grounded. 

After all, he was home.

He ventured near the crowded venue of all the luggage that was being returned to travelers. The car seat was heavy in his hand but he held on tight as his eyes scanned the conveyor belt for his dijon mustard-colored suitcase and a much smaller orange one that held the very few clothes both had.

He nearly missed grabbing his belongings because of people shoving one another to grab their possessions, their airport manners clearly nonexistent. Okay, you pricks, a voice in his head responded. Out of decent etiquette, he at least said ‘pardon’ a few times before he went over to retrieve his luggage. Unable to set the car seat down, he was able to clasp both with only a few curses going through his brain.

Fundy was still asleep regardless of the noise around them, which makes sense now as he was screaming on the 10-hour plane for most of the time. The eyes of angry, annoyed passengers will forever remain engraved in his mind as they glared at him as he frantically tried to calm the infant. Nearly shivering with the remembrance of the scene, Wilbur decided to push through to the front of the building.

Wilbur felt like he was 20 years old again as he approached all the people waiting to be picked up or get a ride. It has been four years since he was in this airport and besides the obvious new gray streak in his brown hair and the slight stubble outlining his jaw, he looked more tired than when he left. Which to be honest, is saying quite a bit.

Funny how stories come full circle as he stands here now, feeling even more exhausted than when he left.

Now is not the time to go into a spiral. He can’t afford to enter his endless mind while at the airport with his son. Wilbur’s eyes danced among the crowd, trying to avoid his ever trapping brain. He searched for the familiar faces of his family and hoped that they were going to be here soon, yet simultaneously he hoped they never showed. 

More planes were landing and boarding and he was nearly swallowed whole by the crowds of people. He was clearly in the front of the building, but Wilbur was being pushed back farther away from leaving from everyone entering. His instinctual and more reasonable thought was to just give up and wait until everything might clear, his brain becoming dizzy with the chatter and airplane engines. 

God he really needed a cigarette.

Wilbur almost retreated to a bench for some safe zone. And he nearly did it too, before he heard a familiarly loud voice.

“Wilbur! Wilbur! Over here you prick!”

Quickly, Wilbur turned his head around and couldn’t help but widen his eyes at the sight.

A boy who resembled his brother stood before him. He had to blink a few times for him to process it was his brother. He was not a short little 7th grader that hugged him goodbye four years ago. His middle school features used to be so much softer and his hair so much brighter, regardless of the light around him from the sun and fluorescent bulbs, everything looked sharper and his hair seemed to be darker. Jesus christ he looked older. Wilbur broke out in a grin regardless of the shock that fogged his mind and the words ‘he grew up’ ringing louder in his head than the planes taking off outside. Wilbur pushed through the crowds, not caring to apologize and return the poor manners he’s received.

His sudden adrenaline pushed his pace which was no longer walking as he ran to meet his brother. Tommy shamelessly ran to meet him in the middle, and almost immediately Wilbur was pulled into a hug with no hesitation. He hated to say it but the amount of relief he felt when he could feel Tommy’s legs moving around because he knew this meant his brother was excited to see him. Wilbur didn’t care that the embrace was too tight and that he was still holding things.

“You got shorter you prick,” Tommy mumbled into his shoulder and Wilbur let out a loud laugh as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. “You got taller, you cunt.” Wilbur still awkwardly held the baby car seat and the bags, and the hug definitely wasn’t comfortable yet simultaneously was.

[cryonme]

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ

➵ JJ Maybank x fem!reader

➵ summary: You get anxiety at night and JJ is unbelievably patient.

➵ word count: 643

➵ tw: anxiety, paranoia, mentions of alcohol & smoking, tears, fatigue. typos and mistakes guaranteed.

➵ a/n: Miz writes something under 1k words?! unheard of. double posting?! un-fucking-heard of. anyway, this is such a self indulgent thing bc the thing that’s happening to the reader in this fic has been happening to me and I haven't been able to find anything similar w JJ on here so I wrote one myself hahaha. just a short little sweet comfort blurb of jj being a really good boyfriend and me wishing I had a JJ so bad🤬🥺 anyway, enjoy.

┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉ 　 ҉     ┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

“JJ.” You whispered in the darkness, wiping at your tired eyes, which were beginning to tear up from your lack of sleep and fatigue.

“Hmm.” JJ stirred for a moment in his sleep, acknowledging you but not fully.

“JJ, please.” You pleaded, wiping at your heavy eyes once again.

The blond groaned and sat up, scrunching his face in annoyance at whoever could possibly be waking him up from his beloved slumber. His eyes softened when he saw it was you.

And his heart ached when he saw you wiping tears.

“Baby?” He questioned, reaching out his arms for you to crawl into as he leaned against the headboard. “What happened?”

“I’m so tired.” You croaked, curling further into JJ’s arms, wanting so badly to close your eyes and go to sleep but anxiety took over anytime you blinked longer than a second.

JJ frowned and tightened his grip on you. “Is it happening again?”

Yeah, again. The raging anxiety that took over your body every time you closed your eyes to fall asleep. The fear that someone was watching you from a window or the worry that your phone would light up with a text of the news of a lost loved one, nothing was off limits. And it was all terrifying. This started a long time ago, back when you and JJ were just friends, and you confided in him about it over a shared joint by the water. He told you to text him anytime, and that he was serious. But, of course, you never did, until you started dating.

It didn’t happen every night, it was more like phases. Maybe, 3 or 4 nights in a row every month, almost like getting your period. Although, you’d honestly rather have your period twice a month over this.

You only nodded as JJ cooed at your response, bringing his thumb up to wipe a tear from your cheek, planting soft kisses on your face.

“My poor girl.” He frowned again, running his thumb over the bags under your eyes. “I’m right here, okay? Won’t let anything happen to you, baby.” His eyelids were getting heavy, but he wouldn’t dare fall asleep before you did, because you’d just be scared and alone all over again.

“Did you have fun last night?” JJ hummed, subtly rocking you back and forth, trying to lull you to sleep.

You nodded in response, smiling softly thinking about it. It was the pogue’s first time meeting Sarah Cameron, John B’s new beau, and you, her and Kie bonded so much over a bottle of tequila and a couple cheap cigarettes, you decided the three of you should have a sleepover on the patio, which quickly became a bad idea when you were a little bit too aware of the fact that you were sleeping outside.

“Tell me about it.” JJ said.

You began to tell him what the three of you had talked about, and how excited you were to have another girl friend, and how she shares the same love of Harry Styles as you do, and JJ just smiled and nodded along, leaving in his own commentary every now and then. Soon enough your words just turned to gentle hums in response and your body relaxed in his arms, finally falling asleep at 5 AM.

JJ sighed and readjusted so you were laying on your side, your face buried into his neck, and his chin resting on top of your head, his arms not loosening their grip on you as he finally let his eyes shut. He would definitely be catching up on his sleep all day tomorrow, but he didn’t mind. As long as you were comfortably sleeping, that’s all that really mattered.

“Goodnight, sweet thing.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over the top of your head before he finally let sleep overtake him.

+

taglist- not tagging right now since this is just an extremely rushed blurb I wrote in like 20 minutes at midnight lol and im lazy rn im so sorry hahahaha

[simp-cityxx]

It’s Showtime~

A Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader fic (NSFW)

Summary: Your lowkey malewife Fushiguro comes to pick you up from work, but you have some ulterior plans for the night…

Warnings: Praise, Degradation, Lots of dirty talk, spanking, breeding, possessiveness; other general smutty stuff (read at your own risk)

A/N: so yea, Nanami and Toji exist simultaneously in this story which doesn’t make sense (but that’s hawt so) but yk what else doesn’t make sense? THE WORD MALEWIFE AND TOJI BEING REMOTELY CLOSE TO ONE ANOTHER! But yeh enjoy

—

“Late again, huh.”

As you walked under the dim streetlight, Toji opened up your passenger door before crossing his arms with a blank stare on his face.

“Sorry. Nanami just needed someone to stay back and help file a few-“

He slithers a hand on your waist as the other tilts your chin. “Yeah princess, whatever.” Although his approach is far from polite, you’re far too focused on his touches to come up with a witty response. The way his words, gazes, and touches were coated with gracefulness but tinged with urgency drove you wild. It was far from erratic but not essentially delicate…this must’ve been the delicious taste of experience, and you were set for sails just thinking about it.

“What am I going to do with you…” he chuckles, pulling you into a kiss; one that feels almost too intimate. You grip onto his tight shirt with his toned muscles enclosed, leaving you practically gasping for air.

The kiss finally calms down and you hop in the front seat of Toji’s car. It always puzzled you how the man was able to afford such a lavish car on his own, Given the fact that he often took on the role of your “househusband”. You focused your attention as Fushiguro unexpectedly brushed a lose piece of hair out of your face. Even such a simple gesture had your thighs squeezing together, tensing up as the engine started.

“So why does that blondie keep working you so late anyways?”, He sits his hand on his chin.

“I think it’s simply the fact that im the only one who fully understands Mr.Nanami’s file systems.”

He chuckles, “Bullshit. Your boss totally has the hots for ya.” Trying to conceal his feelings on the matter, he opts to keeping his blank stare on the road.

You rolls your eyes, “You know it’s not like that.”

“Well if even if it was, you know I’m still your man,” he shoots you a toothy smile, god he was so hot when he smiled…

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“You are so damn corny.”

The rest of the ride is quiet, as you’re caught up in your own head. This relationship with the sorcerer killer had been such a whirlwind, even after about three months. His arrogant and flirtatious demeanor never gave any indication that he would want to ‘slow down’, but somehow you were able to mellow him out. In some ways at least.

Before you knew it Toji was opening the passenger door.

“Baby,…..y/n”, He tapped your shoulder as you had kinda zoned out.

“Oh yeah sorry”, you stood up, only to immediately get tossed over the mans broad shoulder, sneakily hoisting you up with a hand on your ass.

“IM NOT YOUR FUCKIN WORM PUT ME DOWN!”

“Huh?”

Without batting an eye, he puts you down as soon as the front door opens.

……..

Walking into the bedroom, you decide to throw on something a little more…causal. (Something you really know will get him going). You grab one of Fushiguro’s oversized collared shirts, leaving it open to expose the skimpy new lingerie you had just bought. Although not something you felt totally comfortable in, one of your office friends insisted you buy it for a night just like this.

You sluggishly walk into the kitchen where dinner is prepared, stretching your spine with a heavy yawn, before glaring up at Toji’s ample chest, merely covered by a black apron.

The raven haired man looks towards you, almost as if he hasn’t noticed your change in attire. You sit down for your meal, a little disappointed at the lack of reaction from your man. You finish up dinner and sluggishly stumble to the living room. Toji is sitting with eyes unenthusiastically glued to the tv. As you make your way over to join him, you feel a tight grip placed on your hip, pulling you into a rather compromising position.

“I told you last time about wearing satin..”

The words crinkle in your ear, causing your spine to tingle. (He has a thing for satin, lordt knows why)

The muscular man begins to spank you, causing an unexpected moan to escape.

“Shhhh.” A deep sinister grin is painted on his face. “There’s no use in screaming anything but my name sweetie.” God, you hated the way his corniness turned you on.

He persisted, already pushing you to the brink as he increased the intensity through his large palm. occasionally he paused to admire his dirty work, placing the gentlest caresses on your stinging ass before causing you to whimper once again.

You were already panting when Toji positioned you in his arms bridal style. “Tired already dollface? But I haven’t had my way with you yet…”

Fuck. You clench your legs as the heat between your legs intensifies. The raven haired man picks up and shoots one of his grins, floppy hair covering his emerald eyes. You could just die right here.

Gently laying his prized possession on the bed, he positions himself in front of you as you undress him. He throws the apron to the side and wastes no time utterly demolishing the lacey lingere you had picked out for him.

“Toji! That was expensive!”

He merely shrugs it off. “Black card is on the desk babe. You don’t even need all this frilly shit to get me to fuck you.” You cross your arms and avert your gaze; pretending this isn’t the exact outcome you wanted.

“Pout all you want, but your body tells me everything I need to know princess.” As he whispers, He glides a finger over your drenched folds, causing you to release the most sickening moan to ever escape your lips.

“I never knew you were this much of a slut for me. We’ve barely even started…”

As much as you want to give a witty response, his electric fingers slip and stretch inside you, leaving you breathless. You burn all over as he leaves intense marks and kisses all over your skin.

“Stammering already?” He grabs your chin and leans in, pressed against your chest.

“How pathetic. Guess we’ll have to teach you a lesson in manners…” with that he growls, slinging your delicate legs over his broad shoulders. As he leaves kisses on your soft thighs, you shudder in ecstasy. He lets out a chuckle.

“You’re so cute when you tense up like that. Just relax; I’ll take care of it.”

Swiftly he begins unrelentingly devouring you. Kisses pepper your sopping cunt, accompanying the intoxicating hums he makes on your bud. Even with your screams and cries, he only lets up when you finally come.

“Good girl. Now can you do something for me?”

As you nod, he sits you down on the edge of the bed. He positions himself in front of you, giving you a clear look at his egregiously long and thick member. It’s a wonder the thing fit inside you.

“I’m just in need of a little warmup. Think you can handle it sweet heart?”

You nod, regaining your composure.

“Yes sir.”

With that, you take as much of his 13 inches as you can fit in your mouth, but as he hits the back of your throat you begin to choke. Noticing, he slides himself out.

“Don’t overextend yourself little whore. Just the tip is fine…”

After affirming his words, you use your methodical tongue to play with his cock, causing him to release little fucks and hisses from the back of his throat. The way you fit him so well always got him going.

You giggle, “who’s stammering now?”

Teasing him was a big mistase. He furrows his brow and pulls away from you leaving you hungry for more.

“Enough. Lay down skank.”

There was no saving you now. It was much too late. You just guaranteed you’d need to use one your sick days just to recuperate. He pins you down by the wrists and starts biting hard onto your chest, causing you to whimper.

“You thought you were real slick huh.”

“I was only-“

Before you can even finish your sentence, the space in between your legs is stuffed full. He pounds hard into your throbbing cunt, amused by your gasps for air, and leaning down occasionally to leave you kisses. He was just too good, from his dirty talk to the slightest of touch, he just knew every little way to turn you to mush. He grinned as he put a hand to your stomach, feeling his cock penetrate you to your highest capacity. He was so proud have pleasured you in such a way, falling in love with the ways you screamed his name, the way your clever ass could turn into this love drunk fool with no one but him. The love he made between your thighs was proof enough that you could be no one but his. Toji may have been a master of his craft, but the way you wrapped around him even left him begging for more.

As you bucked your hips into him, Toji positioned you on top of him.

“It’s time baby.”

He released more of his intoxicating sounds as you both found yourself on the brink of climax. You pleaded for him to stuff you full, so he did just that, speeding up by grabbing your hips before one final thrust, leaving your thighs shaking around his burning shaft. You were all his as you laid there, dazed by just how amazing the feeling it was.

“You did so well for me today honey. I’m glad you learned your lesson.”

He placed a kiss onto your forehead before getting up to draw you a bath.

—

Oh lordt have mercy </3

[exhausted-smiles]

incorrect x reader haikyuu quotes

part two! :)

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this won’t be any specific character x reader (for example it won’t be specifically tsukishima x reader, or kuroo x reader) just general haikyuu x reader, sorry if you’re favourite character wasn’t included,

i also own none of these quotes i got them from vine and various comedians, message me if you want to know any specifics, some of them have been slightly added to by me but not by much

requests are open!

__________________________________________

tendou: hey babe, how much money do you have?

you: 69 cents (idk how japenese currency works sorry ;_;)

tendou: you know what that means?

you: (visablly upset) i don’t have enough money for chicken nuggets

(later)

you: f*ck ya chicken nuggets

tendou: what?

you: f*ck ya chicken nuggets

___________________________________

you: *blows a kiss*

tsukishima: *catches it*

you: 0///0

tsukishima: *puts it in the blender and turns on the blender*

you: ;_;

___________________________________

you: i don’t know what my body is for other then taking my head from room to room and hugging oikawa

___________________________________

you: (looking at the camera like she’s in the office) i’ve always knew what i wanted be when i grew up i wanted to be a manager for shiratorizawa that goes undercover to recruit people to our school from aoba johsai but i never said that because that would blow my cover,so i would always tell people i wanted to be a manager for aoba johsai, now that i’m undercover as a manager for aoba johsai and no one doubts me

iwazumi: do you think could be a undercover student from shiratorizawa?

oikawa: what?! no this was her lifelong dream

(later)

you: i’m making good progress sweetie, we’ll have oikawa soon

ushijima: *nods* good work

(oml that was so long and i don’t even think it was that funny)

___________________________________

you: it’s guaranteed that if i ran at akaashi right now he would catch me

bokuto: ok bet

you: *nods and run towards akaashi*

akaashi: wait no i have coffee *drops coffee and catches you anyway

___________________________________

sugawara: there is only one thing worse then dying, boom!*rips paper to show “(y/n) dying”

you: *gasps* me

sugawara: baby no

___________________________________

you: i never used to understand how someone could kill another person and then i watched my boyfriend loose a match and i was like “oh yeah, i mean i’m not going to but i get it”

___________________________________

ushijima: *is helping you revise for a test*

you: I don't know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small, and I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress I am under

ushijima: we can take a break it’s ok

___________________________________

kiyoko: *trying to teach you and yachi how to be managers* ok, and what do you do if the team needs help with getting water and towels?

yachi:

you: call the mana-

kiyoko: YOU are the managers

___________________________________

nishinoya: i’m cold

asahi: oh, *gives him his jacket*

you: i’m cold too

daichi: What? (taking off his coat) I told you to bring more layers but of course you didn’t listen! (piling his scarf on top of you) I have to make sure you don’t FREEZE to death! (taking someone’s beanie) How long have you been cold? You should’ve said something sooner!

___________________________________

(on facetime)

semi: i asked if you not ok with me having to leave for a week

you: (not ok i promise) and i said “no” you know, like a lair

___________________________________

you: (in your boyfriend’s jersey/jacket) this is the height of luxury!

___________________________________

kenma: i have to go to practice in the morning and you’re the manager we should go to sleep soon

you: first of all get out of here with your facts

___________________________________

part three is out

[meliorist-midoriya]

chasing the sun

synopsis: there’s something screaming in familiarity—in mourning—deep in his soul at the sight of you, a complete stranger. this is the price you pay for resurrection, the sun whispers as it rises.

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, reincarnation au

warnings: mentions and depictions of death, major character deaths, mentions of war (+ description of a battlefield scene), injuries, blood.

word count: 11.7k

a/n: happy (extremely belated) birthday, bird boy. and aaaa my baby’s here, she’s finally here! i’ve been working on this fic for a little over two months now, and i’m so happy to see it fully fleshed out! thank you to @dimplesum​ for beta reading, and the tumblr chaos server for listening to me yell all the time abt this fic :’) disclaimer, i did as much research as i could, but any historical depictions are not 100% historically accurate and i have taken some creative liberty, so please take the historical scenes with a grain of salt! 

important: there will be songs linked throughout the fic to be played in accordance with the scene, i do hope you listen to them for the full experience! it is okay if the ost ends before the scene as that is also on purpose. the beginning of the song will start with 【 ☀︎ 】 with a link to the song. with that said, i hope you enjoy, and happy reading!

crossposted on Ao3

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Keigo, the youngest government official in the empire, stumbling upon a lone concubine in the eastern lotus garden. 

He’d been searching for solitude, away from the viper’s nest of samurai-turned-aristocrats, strutting around the castle with their now-useless weapons strapped to their hips, discussing poetry and politics instead of battle and war tactics.

It’d been disgustingly easy for them to make the switch from warrior to bureaucrat, taking the status boost in stride. Those who couldn’t, they stayed with their lords if they were lucky. The warriors who weren’t… Keigo would need an abacus to count the ones who weren’t so lucky, the countless rumors and reports of wandering rōnin with familiar names never failing to reach over the palace walls to get to him.

(Oh, what he would give to join them.)

Of course, he’d been intending to brood ponder over this in the seclusion of the garden he’d discovered a few days ago, staring at the green buds of the young lotuses in the water until his head spun. The sight of the concubine sitting in his spot (that he was certain was too secluded to be found) told him fate had other plans, however.

He cleared his throat and forced down the grimace once he saw the concubine jump, startled, before trying her best to smoothly turn and bow without looking too flustered.

“Good morning, madam.”

“Good morning—”

He smiled through the static in his brain at the mention of his surname, messily tacked to the honorific that he would never get used to. 

That name… it’s not mine. Don’t call me that.

A discordant mess of jumbled kanji that sounded nothing like the powerfully elegant names in the court. The ill-fitting characters standing out like an eyesore on his documents, the syllables falling awkwardly off the tongue in conversation.

Wholly fitting for an outsider like him, really.

The mention of that name grated something terrible in him, and he settled for keeping his teeth grit into a smile. A sheltered concubine wouldn’t know, of course she wouldn’t know. Practically no one did, so he had no one to fault but his own cursed sensitivity to a name he wanted to burn.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The slight twitch in her demure smile was answer enough, but he’d set aside time for this escape, and damn if he was going to let it go to waste.

“Of course not. Please, don’t mind me, my lord.”

He dipped his head in thanks and you bowed in return, the silence hanging in the air settling into something stiff and awkward. 

A minute passed… 

Then another… 

Then five… 

Keigo was going to go mad at this rate. Neither of you had any intention of leaving the rare pocket of seclusion, and the competitive whisper in the corner of his mind told him that leaving first meant conceding, meant losing.

(In his world, losing meant death.)

Keigo’s had enough of losing in life despite his dumb luck, thank you very much.

So, he did what he knew he did best. He talked. Shattering the awkward silence in an effort to coax the tranquil silence he was searching for back into the little gazebo by the pond. Maybe if he ran his mouth long enough, you’d get tired and leave.

“You’re a new face in the palace.”

With an expectant gaze, he watched the telltale shift from awkward to apprehensive, the rigidness of your stature sharply contrasting the flowing brocade of your kimono as you looked back at him with a too-sharp gaze before casting your eyes away to the green buds in the water. Had he been any slower, Keigo would’ve thought that the conflicted expression you quickly smoothed over was solemn (it was anything but). 

“I would say the same to you, my lord, but every face in this castle is a new face to me.” You tilted your head with a thin-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Although… I’m sure an official who just arrived at the castle for his yearly residence would be an especially new face. Please excuse my rudeness.”

Keigo blinked. Once, twice, his jaw relaxing into a disbelieving smile at the sight of your steely gaze bright with a challenge and a smile sharper than the blades at his waist, the unsaid words ringing clearly. 

Two could play at this game.

Well, now, this was new. 

Perhaps it was your defiance that remained steadfast in this castle, or the blissful ignorance that made you one of the few to look at him straight on instead of down your nose. A little voice whispered that this would change in due time, the politics and power struggles confined within the castle never failing to break down even the most resilient. Those that didn’t know how to play the game correctly simply… vanished.

“Someone’s well-informed, I see.” He folded his hands behind his back, his wish for tranquility long forgotten. “I heard a new concubine has just entered the castle as well. A consolation prize, of sorts, from the farthest reaches of the country. Of course, as I’ve been gone for a year and have only been here for four, I’m not too sure.” He flicks his gaze to you, accepting your challenge with a knife-sharp smile of his own.

“I am curious as to what this concubine’s name is, however.”

You arched a brow, the thin-lipped smile widening into something sweet (that looked better on a fox rather than a beautiful concubine), and you bowed. Any trace of that stiff apprehensiveness dissolved into a graceful fluidity that seemed to disappear within the rippling silk of your kimono.

“Lady Y/N. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

To this day, he’ll never admit how surprised he was at your reverence, nor how his heart did a funny little flip in his chest when you giggled at his flustered response. What kind of fool gave respect to a commoner picked up from the slums?

You. Except you were no fool, and maybe that’s why he kept coming back like a moth to flame.

Time passed, and he found himself in that little garden day after day, morning after morning. Listening to the concubine who told vivid stories of lands he could only dream of, foods he found himself craving, and tales of warriors past. 

The conversations at dawn soon turned into stories of the past, the laments of the present, and dreams of a bleak future. With delicate hands and gently prying words, you two unlocked every bar and lock you’d put over your souls and allowed yourselves to lay them bare for each other, the intimacy of a bond forged in secrets and solidarity far stronger than any alliance or contract.

You two confided in each other in that garden, staring at the dew on the lilypads as you two whispered how you didn’t belong in the palace. How the confines of grand walls with ears and eyes were no place for the adopted commoner and a concubine far from home. Two people in this big world who were just lucky enough, fortunate enough to end up within this lavish palace, your lives guaranteed splendor and comfort. 

Then again—you two would share a conspiratorial laugh—maybe you two were unfortunate instead. What was splendor and comfort when you had to constantly watch for a knife in your back or poison in your cup? When a single misstep could cost you your life? 

Conversations shared with you, the concubine with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, were the most fulfilling he’s had in ages. Maybe it was the sense of formality that the intimacy of the waterside gazebo stripped away, or the unraveling realization that he hasn’t breathed this freely in ages, that he was looking forward to these moments in the morning. The intimacy shared in the garden he selfishly liked to call his own little world.

Keigo catches the smile you hide behind your sleeve when he steps into the gazebo, and he realizes you’re being selfish, too.

He didn’t know how the conversation got here, he didn’t know why he had a hairpin meant for you tucked into his sleeve. All he knew was that when it came to you, he was helpless to the whims of rambling and buying a pretty hairpin made of red jade because it reminded him of a sharp wit with a pretty smile.

“I live for this country and I die for this country. Well, not that there’s anything much to die for anyway.” Keigo’s laugh is empty, and your melancholic gaze even emptier. A fog had blown in that morning, covering the pond in a soft cover of white, and your soft voice and softer touch on his arm (careful, almost) silenced his dry laughter and left his throat even drier. 

“What you would die for is also an excellent reason to live, is it not?”

Your words, whispered into the stillness of the moment, resonated so loudly within his soul and forced a shaky breath out of his lungs as he gazed in awe at you. At the soft, ethereal glow in the fog cast by the rising sun breaking through the clouds, the scent of bloomed lotuses wafting in on the breeze that rustles the dangling pieces of your hair ornaments. He is weak to whims when it comes to you, so he pulls out the hairpin burning a hole in his sleeve to slip into your hair with shaking hands unbefitting a swordsman. Keigo watches your eyes sparkle like the gem in your hair, and his heart lifts with hope as he whispers his devotion into the warm morning, carried by the wind into a sea of blooms.

“I’ll live for you, then.”

And with a smile, you fall in love.

(Keigo falls even harder.)

【 ☀︎ 】

He should have known.

“I don’t know what I was expecting from the son of a criminal.”

He really should have known.

“What was that fool thinking, taking a street rat like you in all those years ago?”

Honestly, he’d like an answer to that, too. Too bad the old man was dead and left him to inherit a position he didn’t even want. To think he’d agree with the emperor for once in his short life.

“Tsk, a son will follow in his father’s footsteps, after all. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.”

Keigo should be concerned that he couldn’t feel how the coarse dirt dug into his knees anymore, his cheek still aching from where the guard had punched him. 

(Okay, yes, he deserved it, but he could’ve done without tasting iron.)

The sadistic glee in the guard’s face after he landed that “disciplinary strike” told him otherwise. With a bitter grimace, he spat red into the dirt.

How long has he been kneeling here? Minutes? Hours? The words echoing over and over in his head pulled him away from his present reality, bringing him back to the blur that was the past two days.

(Three? He couldn’t be sure, time passes oddly in a prison cell.)

The servants whispering about a concubine being expelled from the harem, the handmaid being promoted to concubine suspiciously quickly, and sudden memories of too-loud rustling coming from the treeline that he’d foolishly brushed off. All of it culminated in the form of palace guards dragging him from his study all the way to the harem to throw him at the emperor’s feet.

“Could the street rat not keep his hands off the women of the court? Plenty to pick back where you came from.” 

Keigo wanted to vomit at the cloying stench of sake, unpleasant memories rushing to the forefront of his mind and forcing his limbs to lock from age-old fear. Not like he could use them anyway, with heavy hands on each shoulder pinning his knees to the tatami and his blades having long been tossed away in the struggle to drag him here.

“Oh, my lord, haven’t you heard?” A sickeningly saccharine voice pulled the man’s attention away to coo at the woman curled into his side, cradling a bottle of warmed sake. “Apparently the small-time nobleman who adopted him, did it knowing he was the son of that criminal you were having trouble with all that time ago.”

The grip forcing his head down loosened from the resounding laughter that rippled around the room, just enough to allow Keigo to glare at the loose-lipped concubine. Your opportunistic maidservant who’d been all too willing to take your place in the harem, having taken her chance and fleeing with it. Her tittering giggles and power-drunk grin grated his ears, and he kept glaring. Daring her to look back, to look him in the eye without feeling an ounce of guilt for what she had done.

Almost as if she heard his furious challenge, she took a glance at the man pinned to the floor (trying to look down her nose like she had been looked down on. Pathetic fool.)  only to jump at the righteous fury burning in his gaze, fear clouding her conscience for a precious moment. 

More, Keigo urged, rage bitter on his tongue, Guilt, shame, despair, all of it.

I hope you regret this for the rest of your life. Lament, as punishment for ruining hers—

“Don’t assume what I have and haven’t heard, woman,” The drunkard grunted, holding his cup out for her to pour with shaking hands and a meek surrender, “But, the man was losing his mind from age. What was that fool thinking, taking a dirty brat like this in all those years ago? Too useless to bear a son nor keep a wife, so he had to stoop low enough to take in a criminal’s son from the slums.”

Righteous fury welled up in his chest, and his body moved before his brain could catch up, spit landing at the emperor’s feet. Almost immediately thereafter, his head whipped to the side, cheek smarting from the sharp strike the guard’s knuckles had indented into his swelling cheek. He grit his teeth as that same cheek came down on the tatami, someone pressing his head into the ground.

“Years upon years of trying to force yourself into nobility, and you’d think you’d learn some respect along the way.”

Had he not been the one with his face pressed into the ground, Keigo would’ve laughed at the shade of fury-red the man’s face was turning. Sake did not treat him well. The concubines at his side, fearing for their lives, immediately rushed to whisper soothing words and calming pleas. Somehow, it worked, and he reclined back into his seat with a heavy sigh, draining the sake in one gulp.

“The son of a criminal shall inevitably become a criminal. Now that I think about it, this is a wonderful opportunity to get rid of an eyesore. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.” A sadistic grin split his lips around the cup, chortling with laughter at his own (terrible) wit. “Being buried next to his criminal father! What a filial son!”

The table shook from the force of a fine porcelain cup slamming down on it, as if the emperor were stamping his death certificate right then and there.

(He was.) 

“Get him out of my sight. The next time I want to see his head is on the gates of Kozukappara.”

Keigo the official had died in that room, and the man that was dragged out by his shoulders left the castle as a criminal.

“Done saying your prayers?” 

Slowly, he looked up from the white paper fan set in front of him in place of the tantō that should’ve been there for his use (obligatory seppuku, his muddled brain supplied with annoyingly familiar haughtiness, so the ex-warrior could die a warrior. What a joke—) to the man he’d chosen to be his executioner. Normally, he would’ve snapped back with something witty, something sharp, but going days without water wasn’t treating him well. A heavy sigh, and the man ran a frustrated thumb down the bright blue wrap of his katana hilt. 

“The concubine, of all women? An imperial concubine, at that. I’d expect you to know better than that, my friend.”

Ah, the static in his head was a little stronger today. Wonderful.

“I thought I knew better, too. At least I get to die to someone with a steady hand.”

He scoffed, thumb running over the blue hilt again. Keigo idly remembered seeing the man rub his burn-leathered skin the same way countless times, the anxious habit having stubbornly ingrained itself into his being since childhood.

“Must you be so dark?”

“When am I not?” He managed to muster up a slow grin. “I’m hurt, I thought my closest companion would’ve known this after years of keeping swords out of each other’s backs.”

The heavy gong announcing his execution sounded, and he watched his best friend’s melancholic gaze glaze over into soulless steel that mirrored the blade drawn from its hilt. Keigo dipped his head with a solemn smile and shut his eyes in resignation.

I really… should’ve known…

“Keigo!”

Everything paused for a breath, in shock at your shout breaking the stillness of the moment. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who was crying out, trying to delay the inevitable certainty. A sharp smile and an even sharper tongue reduced to nothing but cries and desperation.

“...I’ll continue.” The executioner ignored your desperate “No!” as he shifted his stance, scarred hands steady as he placed the blade against the back of his neck despite the pain Keigo knew he was in. 

It would’ve been nice to hold you in his arms, at least once— 

No, for eternity.

The blade came down and, like a lotus facing the sun in supplication, you screamed your despair into the heavens. 

That day, the blood red sunset matched the crimson pooling on the execution ground’s floor.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Private First Class Takami Keigo marching into a small city on the way to the front lines, rifle slung over his shoulder and feet aching.

They’ve been marching through the night, and for the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for Japan’s humid summer nights. He’d take sweat over losing toes from frostbite any day. 

But, he decides, sighing in relief along with the rest of the company at the sight of a town once they crested the hill, there was nothing like the relief of a warm bed and any food other than the tasteless military rations.

“Tired already?” The low voice beside him would’ve made him jump had it not been so familiar.

“Aw, what’s this? Is Touya-kun worried for little old me?” Keigo shot a grin at the man marching next to him and dodged the elbow that he aimed at his side with a short laugh.

“A tired soldier is a dead soldier.” A pause, and the next response came backed with a dry laugh. “Not like it’d affect you and your monstrous instincts, anyway.”

“Yes, as we’ve been told a thousand times, General.” The teasing tilt to his voice came easy, and he let his best friend elbow him this time, too busy laughing at his annoyance. 

Should he have been a little more worried of the captain catching him messing around? Yes, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Judging by the restless shifting rippling through the soldiers, no one was too worried about getting a scolding when they were so close to a warm meal and rest.

“Think the inn will be big enough to house all of us? Another night sleeping on the floor doesn’t sound all that nice to me.” 

Touya scoffed as if his question was the stupidest thing he’d heard all day, keeping his gaze straight as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, the company shifting around them into formation as they approached the gates.

“You’re complaining like it’s anything new to us.”

“Harsh.”

The conversation faded after that, the rough dirt under his boots soon transitioning into the packed earth of the town’s main street as residents gathered to whisper and gawk at the soldiers passing through, the sight of their uniforms a jarring eyesore in this sleepy town. 

A sleepy, familiar town.

Keigo’s mind was spinning. His restless gaze kept flicking around the too-familiar buildings and shops and people that remained after all these years. The restaurant with the broken kitchen window that was too easy to sneak into, the grocer who still kept his trash bin too close to the alley, the old woman sitting in front of her izakaya who always had ginger candy and a meal to give. 

They slowed to a stop in front of the large inn, and he stared up at the building that looked much smaller than he remembered, the interior much less grand than he’d imagined it to be as they filed their way in, and he found himself in the room he once dreamed of sleeping in. There, Keigo sat in near disbelief, on the futon that wasn’t as soft as he thought it would’ve been.

“How time flies, huh?” He looked up to see Touya dropping his pack next to his futon and sitting down across from him with a melancholy grin.

There was too much Keigo wanted to say, nostalgia bitter in the back of his throat, so he settled for a matching smile.

“Old Man Yasutaro never got around to fixing that boarded up window.” 

Touya barked out a surprised laugh, Keigo’s smile widening into a self-satisfied grin.

“You ever think he did that on purpose? He always did stock too much food.”

“Are you kidding?” Keigo shuddered at the phantom pain of the beatings he earned. “He was scary whenever he caught us, there’s no way mean ol’ Yasutaro would do all that just for a pair of orphans on the street.”

“Mm, I don’t know, he was always pretty sweet to Granny Tamayo, so anything that made him look good in her book.” Touya leaned back on his arms, the melancholy melting into the ease of bittersweet nostalgia. It was easier to smile through the painful memories rather than dwell on the past, so Keigo let himself toss his head back with a laugh.

“God, her ginger candy was the best.” 

“You sure it was the candy? Or the granddaughter who always snuck an extra piece to you?” That earned Touya a frustrated noise of protest and a half-hearted kick he dodged.

“That was ages ago!”

“And you still react like a little boy!” 

Keigo groaned, burying his face into his hands as if that would tune out Touya’s cackling laughter. It was short moments like this that took the weight off his shoulders, the murmurs of public dissent, the leaked plans of a planned riot, the magnitude of his actions tomorrow morning.

(Civilians. Of all things, why did it have to be civilians?)

He suddenly pushed himself to his feet, the heavy weight having pushed itself back onto his shoulders and slotting the familiar hum of alertness back into place. Touya gave him a knowing look that he, decidedly, ignored in favor of getting out before his mind swallowed him whole.

“Dinner is supposed to be in a bit, we should get going.”

“Wonderful job of changing the subject, really.”

“Wonderful job of being annoying.”

Touya dodged another swipe of the leg, laughing at his displeasure as he stood to follow.

“Why thank you, I try.” His grin widened with a certain glint in his eye that Keigo found himself dreading. “Now let’s get going, I heard some of the guys are at Granny Tamayo’s izakaya.”

“What?”

“My, isn’t that little Keigo? And little Touya?” 

Keigo faltered halfway through the entrance, smoothing his grimace into a smile as he watched the old lady totter over from her seat with all the coddling of a grandmother. The soldiers within earshot (who were already drinking and eating away. It was barely sunset—) paused to gawk and grin at the endearing interaction.

“Not so little anymore, Granny.”

“I’ll say. Are you eating alright? Is the military treating you well?”

“Granny!”

“What’s this? Speedy and Torchface have some history here?” Keigo kept his smile smooth, only shifting it just the slightest bit into what he knew would look like a sheepish grin instead of the pained grimace underneath the surface. Boisterous laughter that only alcohol could bring rippled around the spacious izakaya, the men cracking jokes over drinks and food.

“Careful calling him Torchface, he has the temper to match.”

Ah, there it is. Touya shouldered past him to stalk towards the offending table with a scarily wide grin, pulling the loose-lipped rookie into a chokehold, his wide grin unmoving.

“‘Has a temper’ my ass, you’re just jealous that a guy with a bunch of burn scars has an easier time with women than you idiots.”

The laughter only grew louder, Granny Tamayo’s expression softening at the interaction before turning back to Keigo with a nostalgic smile.

“Not so little… I see.” She motioned to the table Touya had made a space for himself at, shoving the rookie (who was still in a chokehold, poor kid) aside to make room for him. “Take a seat, dear, and the drinks will be right out.”

The too-loud laughter and incessantly clinking glasses filled the space up with ear-grating noise, and Keigo wanted to leave. Search for peace and solitude in the quiet streets in a way that was strangely familiar. 

(For a fleeting moment, he thought a quiet garden would be nice.)

However, he’d rather eat with the company of drunks rather than the void of his own mind and the horrors silence tended to bring, so the migraine starting to brew in the back of his head was a small price to pay. As was the heavy arm slung over his shoulder from some random soldier, alcohol-loosened and heavy, and the awkward conversation he found himself following along with perfectly tailored humor.

“Alright, I have two beers as well as a few rounds of edamame and—” 

The familiar voice stopped short, and Keigo felt his heart stop in tandem. Slowly, he looked up and saw the girl who used to sneak out an extra candy when her grandmother wasn’t looking, now a woman in the izakaya uniform balancing trays in one hand and two mugs in the other. 

“...Keigo?”

Almost as if the locked gates had been thrown open, a new rush of memories past had overcome him. Jaunts through the town disguised as adventures, clumsily dancing around an old gramophone and calling it a waltz, and the start of blossoming love. Keigo simply smiled, easygoing and familiar, like it hadn’t been years since you saw him run to the military with Touya the first chance they had, drawn by the promise of food and shelter. Like he hadn’t left a malnourished boy and come back a man with more scars than skin.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“‘Been a while.’” You rolled your eyes, setting down the mug in front of him with a huff. “The two most important people in my life run off to join the army without so much as a word, and that’s what you say?”

His words stopped halfway up his throat the moment he saw Granny Tamayo come up behind you to pinch you on the arm, the half-formed response morphing into a laugh as he watched you flinch back with a surprised (and betrayed) yelp.

“Y/N, darling, don’t be rude to the customers.” You pouted, rubbing at the sore spot on your upper arm.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“It’s fine, Granny. Nothing new, right?” At the sight of his cheeky smile, the old woman scoffs, something endearing, before nudging him out of his seat despite your noise of protest.

“Well, since you two seem to be talking of nothing but the past, why don’t you go take a walk down memory lane?”

“Wha— Grandmother! There’s still customers—”

“Kaede can handle it just fine! Shoo, shoo, get out of my hair.” 

Without missing a beat, Granny Tamayo smoothly plucked the trays from your hands and nudged you two towards the door as the soldiers watching roared with laughter and cooed jokes at the two “childhood lovers”. Keigo turned towards Touya, almost desperately, in a futile search for— what? Escape? Wasn’t he looking for escape in the first place?

“Wait, Granny, come on. Touya’s part of this too, isn’t he?”

“Don’t drag me into this, a trip down memory lane isn’t for me!” With an arm still slung over the now-wheezing rookie’s shoulder, Touya raised the cup of sake he’d ordered as if in toast. Whether it was to Keigo’s mortification, or to the potential opportunities this meant, Keigo didn’t want to know.

Probably both.

(...Probably the former, if he were to be honest with himself.)

A flurry of drunken laughter and lighthearted jokes, half-hearted protests that fell on deaf ears, and insistent pushing at his back later, he found himself standing outside the izakaya, blinking up at the full moon before looking over at you.

“...Did we just get kicked out?”

“I think we did.” You snorted, scuffing a mark into the dirt path with your heel, and Keigo wanted the earth to crack open and swallow him whole. What was he supposed to do? Stuck with the remnants of a rekindling love, the awkwardness that tended to come with years of estrangement and words that failed him when it came to you. 

Well, there’s really only one thing he could do.

Talk.

“So, what’s new with you?” He immediately cringed at his choice of words, forcing himself to school his expression over into an easygoing smile instead of recoiling like he so desperately wanted to do. 

Nice going there, Keigo, really.

“...Same old.” Your quiet answer snapped him out of his thoughts, and he tilted his head, almost like he was beckoning you to continue. “Same old town, same old job, same old life. I pretty much walked the path everyone knew I was going to go on as the granddaughter of the izakaya’s owner.”

You looked up with a sheepish grin, the bright moonlight casting the world (and you) in a silver glow, and Keigo felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Not the most exciting to a man from the military, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve seen a lot—” Keigo rubbed at the identification tag hidden under his clothes by force of habit, the leather cord heavy around his neck. He has seen a lot. Too much, to be exact, but how would he even begin to explain the horrors of man to someone… “normal”? How could he?

For someone whose wit and silver tongue helped him survive all these years, he was awfully tongue-tied tonight. Or maybe it was just you, and the surreal lightness settling into his soul that had him stumbling over his words.

“But you’ve seen enough?” You finished his sentence with a wry grin, and the surprised laugh found itself past his lips before he could catch it. How could he forget? You were always, always a step ahead of him. Back then and even now.

“Enough of my barracks and Touya’s face? Yeah, definitely.” You swatted his arm with a huff, and the familiar action made the next laugh come a little easier, his chest a little lighter as the awkwardness slowly dissipated into something… comfortable. Normal.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” 

“Well, that’s your answer, Y/N. Don’t know what else to tell you,” He shrugged in mock ignorance, and you groaned, going back to worrying at the deepening scuff in the dirt. 

“What, so, we both had boring lives?”

Far from boring.

“...Yeah, I guess so.” 

You pursed your lips and stared out at the quiet street, the beat of silence almost bordering on awkward by the time you broke it with a resolute sigh, starting to walk forward into the moonlight.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make up for it somehow.” 

“And how would you do that?”

“By going back to when life wasn’t so boring,” You hummed, spinning to face him and grandly spreading your arms, as if you were presenting the lantern-lit street to him, “C’mon! Tonight, this main street is memory lane!”

“Aren’t you taking me out of town at one point, though?”

“Oh, hush. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, coming.”

Oh, your smile was radiant, and Keigo had to force himself to keep moving instead of gaping like a fool.

(Was it possible for him to make you smile like that all the time?)

For the next hour, time seemed to stop. The moon stood frozen in the sparkling sky, watching two star-crossed lovers go around town, laughing and reminiscing on what could’ve been. What could be, if Keigo were to be bold. You took him down Main Street as promised, and he found it hard to relate to the memories you spoke of, associating each store with scornful stares and pitiful ignorance. Eventually, you two looped around to the outskirts of town. To the river that looked more like a creek now, and the quaint houses and maze of alleyways. To familiarity.

He smiles as he watches you skip rocks in the creek, laughs when you wrinkle your nose at the dog that always seems to only bark when you two pass by Old Man Yasutaro’s gate, and revels in the memories.

“You still suck!”

“Hey! It’s not like we skip rocks all the time in the military.”

You merely rolled your eyes and continued to skip ahead, the slow and awkward trudge from before revived into the enthusiastic step he remembered, fueled by the joys of nostalgia and escape. 

This, Keigo realizes, is nostalgia.

Not the pain of remembering a past he wanted to forget, not looking at alleyways to remember what used to be his childhood, not thinking of the shops as someplace otherworldly. Rather, it was this. The joy of reminiscing on good times. The joy of breathing new life into old memories.

The joy he now knew was to be found in you.

“Hey.” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see you grinning, the moonlight illuminating something akin to mischief in your eyes. “Remember that old gramophone we could never figure out when we were little?”

“You mean you could never figure out. I didn’t want to touch it because Granny Tamayo is a scary, scary woman.”

And a dirty street orphan’s hands had no place on such an expensive thing.

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, following along anyway as you set off down the path with a new purpose. The route was familiar, and Keigo already had an idea of where this was going, but who was he to speak when you were nearly buzzing with excitement?

“What I mean to say is: I figured it out, so—” You spun in place again, taking his hand, and his heart damn near stopped, “—would you like this dance? To some actual music, this time.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? A proper lady needs the proper etiquette, after all.” His cheeky grin betrayed the politeness of his words, and you scoffed, tugging him along.

“Like you would ask me first.” Keigo’s tongue stalled around a response, scrambling for a proper comeback because you were right. Deep down, he knew that he still never would’ve asked you first for anything. It wasn’t his place. First, as a kid on the street compared to the granddaughter of the izakaya owner. Now, as a man with blood on his hands compared to an innocent civilian, untainted by the shadows of war.

Who was he to ask anything from a normal person?

“Lead the way, then.”

There was that radiant grin again, brimming with excitement and sending him reeling. Keigo couldn’t help but let your enthusiasm rub off on him as he followed you to the little communal courtyard behind Granny Tamayo’s home, where he knew that she liked to keep that Western gramophone to play for guests. You broke away to go and try and work the old machine, mumbling to yourself as you fiddled with the knobs and rifled through the records filed away in the ornate cabinet it was sitting on. 

He took the chance to look around the empty courtyard, struck with the realization that it hadn’t changed at all in the years he was gone. He left all those years ago, only to return to a town that seemed almost frozen in time. It was too far from the cities for all the modern inventions to catch up with it, so the only things that changed were, well, the people. Keigo most of all. What if he hadn’t—

The sudden burst of music and your shout of victory cut off his wandering train of thought, and you walked back into his line of vision with a triumphant grin.

“I still don’t know how to fix the tempo, so the song’s a little slow. You’ll have to forgive me for that.” You offered up your hand and tilted your head, still smiling. “May I have this dance?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Like you’d ask me first.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo grinned in well-earned defeat, and his hand slipped into yours with the other on your waist. The music swelled, and he took the first step.

One, two, three, one, two, three…

With too-slow, clumsy steps, the two of you slowly began waltzing your way around the small courtyard. You still kind of didn’t know how to work the gramophone—the song almost eerily slow, despite the years of fiddling—but that didn’t matter in the face of the giddy smiles shared, your soft laughs when he spun you in a flash of spontaneity, and the nostalgia of old times.

Before, he was a scrawny kid on the street who clumsily tried to follow the steps of the pretty girl playing a song on her father’s gramophone. Tomorrow, he would be Private First Class Takami Keigo, fighting for his life on the battlefield. Tonight, he would be normal again, slow dancing to Clair de Lune playing off an old, off-beat gramophone with you in his arms, mourning a start he didn’t get to have.

(As normal as a kid scrounging for scraps on the street could’ve been.)

Your voice, soft and wavering, broke the stillness of the moment, as if it were something taboo that shouldn’t have been uttered into existence at all.

“Keigo?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

You flushed at the endearment, the next words shattering his illusion of happiness within nostalgia with the renewed vigor of confidence in the face of the impossible.

“Will you come home?”

Home.

A simple word, really. And yet it dropped like a stone in his chest. Home meant a roof over his head. Home meant warm food on the table. Home meant a simple life in a sleepy rural town. Home meant the promise of a new beginning.

To you, “home” probably meant nothing more than the place you had known all your life.

To him, “home” meant you.

So, like a dreamer in love, he answered with all the confidence of a fool.

“Yeah... I will. I don’t care how long it’ll take me, but I’ll come home.”

He thought the shaky lilt to his voice would’ve given him away, or the way his step faltered in the already clumsy waltz as if trying to step around what he knew should’ve been the answer. 

Instead, you laughed. Something soft, and let him spin you once more.

“Well, I’ve already waited a couple years, what’s a little more waiting?”

Keigo had to keep himself from double checking if this was real. Dancing with you in the moonlight as he tried to step around the reality of that answer with all the awkward grace of a scared child.

One, two, three, one, two, three… 

Truth be told, the both of you knew the answer long before you had pushed the question into desperate existence, searching for a shred of hope. That his simple answer should have been an realistic “I don’t know” or a pessimistic “no promises”, instead of a foolish “yes.”

Instead, he slowed the waltz to a sway, pulling you close to both ingrain the feeling of you into his soul and to hopefully hide the resigned melancholy of a soldier being carted off to uncertainty.

And, for a traitorous moment, Keigo wondered.

Dreamed, even.

What would it have been like to have a “normal” life? Instead of grasping the hand of desperation, would he have grown out of the side alleys and homes made of boxes into a “respectable” man? Maybe he could’ve gotten a job at the grocer’s, at Old Yasutaro’s restaurant, or maybe even Granny Tamayo’s izakaya. Could he have—he pulled you closer, pressing a ghost of a kiss to your temple—could he have courted you the “right” way? Brought you flowers and honey-sweet words of praise and promises of a happy future, instead of a single night dancing in the moonlight with a brittle promise hanging in the tense air that the both of you clung onto like a lifeline. A promise that Keigo wasn’t even sure he could fulfill.

He would later come to regret this single moment. Of this, he was sure.

(But, as you lifted your head from his chest with glassy eyes and a shaky smile, he knew he wasn’t alone in this regret.)

Keigo knew the words that you wished to let fall into the night air, in hopes of making that brittle promise tangible. Of giving life to a bright future with three little words. The reality crawled up his throat like poison, bitter and cloying, something that he knew shouldn’t be said. Keigo settled for gently wrapping his hand around your head to pull you closer, filtering the harsh truth into something a little softer, the bittersweet tone marking the unspoken truth as a reality instead of the dreams of a future.

One… two… three… 

“Don’t,” He muttered, heart tightening as he felt you go rigid in his arms, “I know. Please, God, I know—”

You slowly relaxed in his arms with all the bitter acceptance of a night before battle, and he murmured the next words into another ghost of a kiss. A whisper against your lips, seen only by the fading notes of a song in the moonlight.

“—but don’t.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo’s breath was rattling, ears ringing with war cries, death wails, and everything in between. The once-blue noon sky was now a startling haze of ash gray, thick with the choking scent of the world burning.

He couldn’t even tell where the carnage started or ended anymore.

(Would it ever end?) 

How long has it been since the first shot?

(Too long.) 

Would he live to see the sunset?

(Of all times to worry about this, why now?)

The incessant drill of artillery fire was nothing new to him, as was the stench of the battlefield that could only be described as death.  What was new, was something that pushed his aching body to keep moving, the autopilot state he usually entered backed with something raw. Something like fear.

Something like the will to survive.

The pain that set his nerves on fire has long since faded, all the pain of countless wounds blending together into something numbed by the adrenaline of survival. Were the wet patches on his uniform sweat? Blood? Both? He couldn’t tell anymore, all he knew was survival and the persistent voice whispering deadly distraction in the back of his mind.

Civilians. You’re fighting civilians, you mur—

The skin of his back prickled, the telltale whistling of something flying screeched in his ears, and his reflexes yanked him to dive out of the way before his mind could catch up. Not even a second later, another explosive detonated behind him and heat blazed across his back. His nerves screamed fresh pain into his senses and he grit his teeth, ignoring the concerning sound of sizzling over the ringing in his ears in favor of ducking into cover, collapsing against the wall of a destroyed building. 

Since when did regular people know how to make bombs?!

In the next breath, someone else had ducked into the small shelter he’d found in this hellscape of a city. 

Well, the remains of one. All hell broke loose once the other side brought homemade explosives into the fray and now, as he stared at the burning and destruction, Keigo wondered if those Westerners who muttered meaningless blessings whenever they passed were right. 

If this “Hell” they spoke of really was on Earth. 

He turned his head, suddenly sluggish, to the man that had joined him in the makeshift cover, and grinned at the familiar face.

“Hey, man.”

(Maybe giving his body a chance to slow down was a mistake.)

Touya ignored his exhausted greeting, instead opting to yank a rag from his pouch as he pulled Keigo to sit up so he could press the rag into the deep gashes the shrapnel had gouged into his back. Keigo immediately groaned in protest at the stinging pain, despite how necessary he knew it was.

“Fucking— how did you even survive that?”

“Dunno,” He let out a weak laugh, “Don’t think I will—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.” Despite his harsh threat, Touya pressed the slowly darkening rag deeper into his wound. A desperate (futile) attempt to stop the life pooling onto the floor underneath them, steadily flowing from the deep gashes in his back and all the other wounds peppering his body.

“Isn’t that the exact opposite—” He hissed in pain at the pressure on his wounds, “—of what you want?” 

“Shut up.”

“You know you don’t want me doing that.”

(He was right. Keigo running his mouth meant that he was breathing. Meant that he was alive.)

Touya pressed his lips into a thin line, Keigo blearily tracking the way his burn scars pulled with the movement. 

Grounding himself, that’s what he’s supposed to do during times like this, right? Hell, he didn’t know. Not every day he came so close to death. Touya really needed to look into something for those sc—

“For the love of the gods, I am begging you to shut up.”

Ah, he said all that out loud? He managed to muster up a sheepish grin, despite Touya’s grim expression.

“Ooh, Touya? Begging? That’s a first, I should stay awake to hear it.” Keigo didn’t have to look to know that the rag was soaked through and Touya was fighting against the inevitable at this point. Keigo? He… he was too tired to fight to keep his eyes open. Too cold.

“Maybe you should stay awake to go home, loverboy.”

“I should.” He fumbled to find purchase, pressing his palm into the ground and scooting his feet closer for leverage. “Can’t leave Y/N waiting after all.”

Maybe it was the delirium from the blood-loss, or the desperation of this cursed situation, but Keigo tried to pull himself up. To move, to get somewhere safer, somewhere where he could survive. His palm slipped on the blood-slick floor underneath him and he came crashing down once more, his strength disappearing along with it as he slumped against Touya.

“Ah—”

“Shit, I’ll get you to the medic.” 

Keigo groaned at the pain of his wounds being jostled as Touya tried to haul the deadweight of his sluggish body up. The reality of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders (or was it his strength leaving him?) and he licked his chapped lips, whispering the grim truth into the ash-hazy air.

“I’m not gonna make it to the medic.”

“How many times do I have to keep telling you to shut up?” Another attempt to pull him to his feet, and Keigo managed to push out a weak laugh.

“Just a couple more times.”

“Hey… hey, c’mon now, I still have to make fun of you and Y/N for being the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met.” He carefully shook Keigo, trying desperately to get him to keep his drooping eyes open.

“Aw, don’t tease Y/N too badly.”

Something changed in Touya’s voice, a block in his throat that he had to force his words through, and he clutched the dripping rag closer to his wounds as he muttered out his response.

“I won’t.”

“Good, good,” Keigo’s hands clumsily fumbled for the cord wrapped over his chest, tugging at it until it came loose. “Hey, can you tell Y/N that I’ll do my best to come home? In any way I can.”

“...Just do it yourself.” 

“Mm, that would… that would be nice. Coming home, I mean. I promised… Y/N… I would…”

His words faded, and Touya froze, arms suspended in midair around the slumped form of his best friend, his stunned gaze locked on the identification tag hanging from a limp, bloody hand.

“Kei...go?”

【 ☀︎ 】

Waiting was agony.

You used to think you were a patient person, years of dealing with drunks, horrible customers, and everything in between training the patience of a saint into you. 

Today, however, revealed that you were anything but. The moment the company had crested the hill and out of sight, your anxieties slowly overcame you the farther they went. Working in the izakaya helped, the constant flow of customers and orders kept you on your feet and your thoughts off the battle that was no doubt waging mere miles away. Every so often, a wandering patron would come in murmuring that they heard bits and pieces of the battle, and you forced yourself to forget again.

All that effort was lost once the company’s runner came barreling through the town, shouting that the soldiers were on their way back. That they needed spaces cleared for the wounded and their lodgings secured. They called for the doctor, they called for food, they called for supplies. 

If you didn’t know any better, it would’ve sounded like a cry for help.

Word spread like wildfire, and the rush of serving customers turned into the rush of trying to help prepare for the soldiers’ return. None of it helped get your mind off the one thing you didn’t want to worry about. If anything, it just shoved all your worries to the forefront of your mind, accompanied by the dull headaches of something you hoped were just random fantasies.

(Fantasies of a lotus garden, a guarded grin, a red hairpin, a betrayal—)

Would he have to be wrapped in the bandages you were carrying? Would he have to rest in the bedding in your hands? Would he be able to eat the food your grandmother was preparing?

Then, they came. 

A slow straggle of wounded and weary men, leaning and limping on each other as they slowly trickled in through the main street.

There were many things that wouldn’t happen, you would later realize, watching the company trudge back into the town. Their formation was shaky from the hobbling wounded, and you felt your heart drop as you desperately searched the noticeably thinner crowd, trying to peek through the uniforms and bandages and dented helmets for any sign that he had come home. That he had survived.

How many men did they lose?

(Too many.)

You watched the flow of soldiers slowly follow their commander to their lodgings and the doctor, the once boisterous crowd now silent and battle-worn. The rookie that had just been under a chokehold the other night was now cradling bandaged wounds and a gaunt expression that only told of his first brushes with death.

One soldier broke from the crowd to make his way towards you, and—for a fleeting moment—you hoped. 

And just as quickly as it came, that hope you had soon sunk into despair once you saw who it was, and what he held in his scarred hands.

Across the street, a man broke rank, with a heavier burden than most would’ve thought and few would ever experience. He hoped that no one would have to experience this, a death and the task of delivering such news weighing heavy on his shoulders.

Life, Touya thinks, is cruel.

It left such a brilliant mind like Keigo to starve with him on the streets.

It forced him to run to the military in desperation, searching for steady food and shelter.

It snatched away the one man who had salvation waiting for him.

Death, Touya grieves, is even crueler.

Keigo would never get to go home.

He wouldn’t get to see the joy on your face once you welcomed him home with open arms. 

(How could he? When your expression twists into something akin to dawning horror instead of joy, watching Touya make his way up to you with downcast eyes and a heavy bundle of fabric carefully cradled in his palm.)

He wouldn’t get to start the new life he deserved, in a sleepy rural town with the one he adored.

He wouldn’t get to fulfill his promise to you.

A promise that everyone knew was too risky a promise to make. Yet, he believed enough to make it to you.

A promise that Touya holds back on his tongue because he knew this—a little metal disc on a bloodstained cord—wouldn’t fulfill it, not when he hands you the neat square of scrap fabric and watches your tears flow before you even open it. Not when you slip out a worn identification tag, holding it up to the sunset to try and make out the letters you already knew were there.

A lantern illuminates what the fading sunlight could not, casting the stamped characters of Keigo’s bloodied name in an amber glow, and you crumble.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Professor Takami, Head of the Sociology Department, first through the doors of the campus café with essays to be finished grading in one hand and his laptop bag in the other.

The cashier greets him with a familiar warmth as he steps up to the counter, his staple order already halfway punched into the register with a knowing smile that he forces himself to return. There’s a nervous energy simmering under his skin that he can’t seem to shake, and it shows. The barista (Touya. His name is Touya. He literally has one of the guy’s essays in his hand, fucking hell. Get it together, Keigo) shoots the normally easygoing professor a worried look as he slides the warmed pastry across the counter to him, the full sleeves of swirling blue and black ink a stark contrast against the smooth wood of the counter.

“Everything good with you, Professor?”

“Perfect, now that I got my pastry. Think I’ll be even better once I drink some coffee.” 

Nothing was perfect, and he couldn’t even put a finger on what it was. 

He plastered a convincing smile on his face as he picked up the too-heavy plate, careful to hold it steady before making a beeline for his usual table. The faster he got to sit down at his usual corner booth and sort himself out, the better. 

He knew that he would just drown himself in grading papers instead of figuring out what was making him feel off, but it was the thought that counted.

The hum of energy under his skin was nothing new to him. Something deep inside that made him almost jumpy, wary of the peaceful days that had consumed his entire life, lying in wait for… something. For what? Keigo wished he knew.

(For battles yet started, for warcries yet sung, for survival yet fought for.)

All he knew was that the strange hum that threatened to vibrate him out of his own skin was different this time. Wrong. It didn’t help that his sleep had been suffering for the past week, plagued by dreams and nightmares both of eras past, the blurry picture of the same person a constant sight in the swirling mix of history. Images flickering between a secluded lotus garden and an elaborate kimono to an old izakaya and Clair de Lune at moonrise. Images of yearning and blood and tragedy and endings before the beginnings.

At least his conversations with the once-intimidating Japanese Literature professor got a smidge more interesting.

With the resolute click of a red pen, he swept away the thoughts clouding his mind as he resigned himself to his fate of just dealing with the strange mood for now, fully intent on getting to work. Years of repetition and muscle memory had him opening up his email with practiced ease, quietly sighing to himself as he waited for the doubtlessly endless emails from students and colleagues alike to load. 

Would procrastinating just the tiniest bit by fiddling with the rolled cuffs of his sleeves or pushing up his glasses for the nth time help at all? 

No, but it let Keigo expel the weirdly restless energy in what ways he could, the creeping sense of foreboding setting his nerves into overdrive. The page loaded and he frowned at the onslaught of emails he knew were going to flood his inbox. 

Hell, he expected them to.

What he didn’t expect were the contents, the subject lines all variations of “Did you know?” and “There’s no way” and “I can’t believe it” from colleagues he didn’t even talk to regularly. Sure, the email from the cultural anthropology professor made sense, but the graphic design professor? The head of the business department?

Before he could open the first email of many, his laptop chirped out the familiar ‘ding!’ of a new email, the sound rippling through the café as everyone’s phones and laptops lit up with the same message. 

A schoolwide email? Okay, th—

The world slowed to a crawl, everyone in the packed coffee shop silencing almost at once and the shocked whispers rippling throughout the space only serving to make the silence all the more deafening (“Hey, check your email.” and “Look at this.” and “No way.” and it was too loud someone please make it stop—), his ears near ringing as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the picture embedded at the top of the page.

“Looking a little rough there.” The cotton suddenly stuffing his ears muffled the barista’s voice and would’ve made him jump out of his skin had he been focused on anything but burning the email into his eyes. God, he’d barely even registered the guy coming up to serve his coffee, what was wrong with him? “Professor? Was it that email?”

“Y-Yeah, I just read it.” He cleared his throat and slid the mug closer to himself, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee to ground himself as he stared at the picture of you. 

The barista merely arched a pierced brow and muttered a soft “ah.” before going back to his spot behind the espresso machine, vibrant blue eyes tracking the rattled professor suspiciously. Keigo was too preoccupied to thank him as he usually would’ve. Too preoccupied with what was staring back at him from his laptop screen.

A picture placed right under the subject line plastering “Unfortunate news about Prof. L/N Y/N” across his screen, the few words in the body text (that he could pick out through the sudden tidal wave of memories past clicking into place) painted an image that he couldn’t help but mourn.

After being reported missing… remains found… will be missed.

Will be missed… 

Well, now that he thought about it, Keigo had been missing you all his life, hadn’t he? 

Both figuratively and literally, always arriving after you left and vice versa, never really seeming to connect in person. Any emails were shrouded with a veil of professionalism that he couldn’t pierce through. Yet, there were things so irrevocably you that he knew to pick out now. The jovial note at the end of your emails, the unapologetically confident sharpness to your words, the extra mug you left for the next person that passed through the faculty lounge (that somehow always ended up being him on the days he was rushing to his next lecture). 

All these things, all these moments, and the fool had passed all of them by.

The restless energy humming under his skin through his entire being disappeared much quicker than it had come, its job done, leaving a gaping  void in its wake that was shockingly familiar. Almost as if this wasn’t the first time this had happened, where the curtains never raised on the beginning you two could’ve had. He took a shuddering, stabilizing breath (that didn’t work), too numb to feel the freshly brewed coffee scalding his tongue that he had hoped would pull him back to reality, hoped the sweet taste would wash away the bitterness at the back of his throat and the splitting headache of years upon years of memories crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Professor Takami had work to get done.

Keigo could mourn later.

Even as he convinced himself of that, he couldn’t even bring himself to brush the dead lotus petals off his work, the sight of the wilted centerpiece only bringing more pain. The cruel coincidence of the once bloomed flowers now dead in his hands didn’t go unnoticed, and Keigo desperately tried to bore the printed words laid in front of him into his mind. 

As if doing that would sear away the sudden onslaught of memories, dead lotus petals igniting a yearning for a long-demolished lotus garden and a pretty concubine who didn’t belong in the palace (or was it a small town and the life he could’ve had?) and the love that slipped through his fingers once more.

Did you go through this too? When he—

The half-graded essays lay untouched for the rest of the day, red ink disappearing in the crimson light cast by the setting sun.

【 ☀︎ 】

When did I…?

He blinked down at the concrete under his feet, stunned, before looking up to see an endless sea of trains passing in front of him. The incessant rushing of the trains around him had replaced the silence of the hotel room he was supposed to be sound asleep in, the too-rhythmic noise of the train tracks surrounding him in an almost ethereal white noise. 

I had just gone to bed… How did I end up at a train station?

He winced at the glare of the midday sun reflecting off of the last car of the train passing in front of him, before stopping short at the sight of someone standing on the other side of the tracks—alone—revealed by the passing train. His heart leapt into his throat and pushed a name he didn’t know and wouldn’t remember out of his lips. There was no way he knew her, the multi-layered kimono and elegant hairpins looked like something out of a millenia-old ukiyo-e print and wholly out of place in a modern train station. But... something deep in his soul knew that it was right, and it sang as he watched the woman turn around. 

“You’re dreaming right now, Keigo. Go back to sleep,”

“What…?” 

“It’s true,” The woman tilted her head with the soft smile that he’d missed so much (missed? Wasn’t this his first time seeing it?) and the ancient hairpieces jingled and swayed with the movement, his gaze locking on a familiar crimson gemstone catching the sunlight, “Don’t believe me? Try to count some numbers, then. One… two…”

Another train hurtled past, blocking his view once more as her painted lips moved soundlessly around the final number.

“Three.”

Keigo sat up with a gasp, staring at the soft shafts of light the sunrise painted on the walls.

It was the start of a new day, and he found himself mourning something lost that he couldn’t even remember.

Dawn finds Hawks, the number two hero, leaping out of his Tokyo hotel window, wind catching on vermilion wings to buffer his descent to the sidewalk.

He was far from home, his current mission dragging him all the way to Tokyo from his agency in Fukuoka. Sneakers touched concrete, and he started down the path where he was supposed to meet with the last person he wanted to see right now. Especially after that mess with the High-End Nomu. He shuddered, spreading his wings as if to remind himself that they were all there, recovered after that hellish fight.

Come to the location on foot, he’d been told, and don’t be conspicuous.

Weird request, and it was kind of hard to remain inconspicuous when he was the number two hero and had a pair of bright red wings announcing his identity to the world. Alas, he needed to cooperate or else he’d end up jeopardizing the entire mission, so Keigo settled for ditching his hero costume in favor of casual clothes and a cap to hide his identity. He pulled a mask over his nose and tucked his wings closer to further help conceal himself as he walked down the street, dipping into the first alley he saw.

His path through the grid of alleyways and side streets had already been mapped out the days before, so it was just a matter of making the short trek there. Unfortunately, the area wasn’t the best, and Keigo found himself slowed by sidestepping trash and the occasional bottle of liquor. The scent of stale alcohol only brought unpleasant fragments of memories, and he pushed them aside in favor of quickening his pace.

“My, not every day I see such a bigshot hero pass by.”

He almost tripped over another bottle, wings ruffling in surprise as he cursed himself for being caught off guard.

There was an old woman sitting there, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as she sat outside her quaint little storefront. 

A flower shop, in this secluded side street? 

“Ah, sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I mean, me? The number 2 pro hero?” He was quick to deny her, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. She merely hummed and took another sip of her tea.

“Do I? Well, this old woman’s eyes aren’t what they used to be after all.” She set down the cup and stepped out of her chair, shuffling over to the water feature on the other side of the doorway that served as an attraction. He could see why, the soft rush of the small waterfall and fragrant lotuses drawing his attention the more he stared.

Suddenly, the woman plucked one of the younger lotuses, patting the stem dry before handing it to him with a smile.

“Uh—”

“You saved my son that day, from the Nomu attack in Fukuoka. This is the least I could do.”

Against his better judgement—he really needed to get going to catch the train in time—he took the half-bloomed lotus in his hands and pulled down his mask to smile at her.

“Your eyes are… actually pretty sharp, ma’am. Thank you.”

She laughed, sitting back in her seat and sent him on his way. The rest of the walk went smoothly after that, and he soon found himself jogging up the stairs to the station, muttering under his breath as he checked his watch. 

Right on time.

【 ☀︎ 】

A strange sense of deja vu creeped into his chest as he stepped onto the platform in Minami-senju station. He’d been feeling off all day, and the weird sense of familiarity that had been tugging at the back of his mind didn’t help. Luckily, he’d managed to arrive in time to catch the noon train so the rest of his schedule should hopefully go smoothly from here. A departing train screeched into motion, and he winced at the rippling glare of sunlight that reflected into his eyes, the strange deja vu rearing its head again.

Keigo stared at the train passing in front of him as he idly twirled the lotus stem in between his fingers. The words left his lips before he could catch himself.

“One… two…” He cut himself off with a sigh, dropping his head and dragging a hand over his face.

It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

Keigo.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, the world darkening under the shade of a passing cloud. Did he just imagine that? He had to. The train station was practically stranded, and there was no one even close enough to call his name without shouting across the station (if they even knew his name in the first place). Despite his better judgement, he wet his lips and shut his eyes, the strangely familiar words passing his lips once more as he desperately tried to recall the familiarity he longed for.

“One…”

I want to see you.

“Two…” 

I don’t even know who you are, but I miss you anyway.

“Three—”

Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the train tracks silenced and left him with the raging drum of his heartbeat, the blood rushing in his ears as he stared at the person standing on the other side of the tracks. The emerging sun smiled upon him, casting the world in light once more as his voice locked around a familiar name he’d never spoken.

It started as a hushed whisper, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to call the name thrice ingrained into his soul.

“Y/N!”

The familiar smile that bloomed across your lips was answer enough as he pushed through the newly arrived train to the other side, to you. He reached out, clawing through the rush hour crowd (why were there so many people? Why were you so far? Closer, closer, closer—) and he nearly sobbed in relief as you fell into his arms, clinging to each other as your souls finally, finally, melded together as one. Now and forevermore.

The questions could come later, but now... he had a promise to fulfill.

He was home.

notes: minami-senju train station is located in very close proximity (a two-minute walk) from what is left of the kozukappara execution grounds, where a temple now stands in its place. he’s made quite the journey to come full circle, hasn’t he?

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 8

I have spent fucking all day on this fic, mostly thinking up ways to get y/n to Wolf Trap without Will actually kidnapping her. This is what I came up with.

Will takes y/n to Wolf Trap to hide out while the investigation continues. 

@deadman-inc-bikeshop @viviace and @dovahdokren 

Trigger warnings: mention of substance abuse, ptsd, sex trafficking

“The first priority is keeping you close and keeping you safe.” Will stood up suddenly and reached for his coat. “Come on.”

“Huh?” you interjected. “What are you talking about?” 

“I have a place near here. Just outside of Quantico, surrounded by farmland.” He explained. “I guarantee you nobody will come looking for you there.”

“Can we at least stop at my apartment first?” You begged. “I should probably get my computer, and like, clothes and stuff.”

“Sure.” Will conceded. “Do you have a phone?” 

“Uh, yeah?” You pulled your phone from your pocket. 

“Turn off location services and shut it off.” He instructed. “We can’t risk anyone finding you.” 

“Am I being kidnapped?” You said, half joking. 

“I’d rather our one lead be kidnapped by an agent then murdered by a sex slave.” Will said, dryly, as he gathered up his things. “Come on.” 

Thoroughly not caring whether you lived or died, you followed him down the hall to the lab where Jack was inspecting a corpse. He knocked on the window, catching Jack and Dr. Katz’s attention. 

“I’m taking her to Wolf Trap for the night.” Will said in an authoritative voice that didn’t match his harmless exterior. “She’ll be safe there.” 

Jack looked at Will and then looked at you. He seemed offended on your behalf that Will was talking about you like you were a box of Fabergé eggs and not a person. “And you’re okay with this?” 

“He raises a good point.” You shrugged. “Unless you think he’s going to kill me.” 

“The alternative is prison protective custody.” Will added. “And we shouldn’t let anyone have the slightest notion that we imprison people who need help. We’re not the ICE.” 

Jack tried to keep his eye roll subtle, but you noticed. This wasn’t the first time Will had done this, and Jack didn’t seem concerned enough to worry you. “Fine.” 

With Jack’s reluctant permission, Will escorted you from the building. Like a gentleman, he opened the passenger’s side door for you before starting the car. You settled into a less-than-comfortable silence that lasted until you reached the main road. 

“What is a borrasca?” He asked, out of nowhere. 

“I’m sorry?” You said. 

“A borrasca.” He repeated. “When you were talking to Jack, you mentioned it and looked at me like you expected me to know what it was.” 

“Oh. Borrasca.” You answered. “It’s a horror story. About a group of kids who live in a small town in the Ozarks. There’s an urban legend around the town about monsters living in abandoned mines, but they investigate and find out it’s a sex trafficking ring run by a rich family and the corrupt local police.” 

“How does it end?” 

You couldn’t tell if he was humoring you or if he was actually interested, but you told him anyway. “The ending is kind of bittersweet. The kids grow up, but they’re traumatized beyond any hope of repair. One is a heroin addict, another suffers from severe PTSD and the other is paralyzed. But they’re together again and the sex trafficking ring was exposed.” 

“So you think it’s sex trafficking?” Will posed, after a moment of pondering what to ask. 

“I’m not sure what else it could be.” You shook your head, keeping your gaze fixed on the road. “Other than a power trip for Chase to stroke his god complex.”

“I’m going to need directions to your apartment.” He said. “So just, let me know where to turn when we’re getting close.” 

“Sure.” You nodded, fairly sure he was asking for directions on purpose as to not use the GPS. “Take a right when you get to Euclid Drive and then it’s a straight shot down Chandler Street. I can tell you when to stop.” 

Will followed your instructions and soon enough you pulled up in front of your apartment complex. 

“Try to be quick, okay?” He said as you opened the door. “Only take what you need.” 

You hurried up the stairs, unlocked your door and found a large enough bag. You tore into your dresser, stuffing handfuls of random clothes into the bag. You moved on to the bathroom and slid everything on top of the sink into the bag. You shoved your laptop and its charger into the bag. That was probably everything. 

After making sure to triple check the locks on your way out, you returned to Will’s car. You shoved the bag in the backseat and pulled yourself into the car like you’d just robbed a bank. 

“Alright, I’m all set.” You slammed the door shut. “Let’s go.” 

He put the car in reverse. “Thank you for being so understanding.” 

You decided to play dumb. “Oh, I usually travel light anyway.” 

“I mean, putting your trust in me.” He specified. “I know you didn’t have much choice, but still. I can’t imagine how scary this must be for you.” 

You doubted that, but you kept it to yourself. “I appreciate you saying that. For the sake of transparency, I think I should tell you that I definitely feel safe around you.” 

“You don’t have to say that.” He shook his head. “You watched me shoot someone dead tonight. I wouldn’t blame you if you were scared-” 

“I’m not lying.” You interrupted. “I can’t explain it, and maybe it’s just because you saved my life, but I... I trust you.” 

“You figured this out from a few hours?” he said, skeptically. 

“In my defense,” You began. “It’s been a very eventful few hours.”

The car came to a stop as the light turned red. Will examined your profile. “You’ve lived more lives in the last six hours than most people live over the course of years.” 

“But my last six hours is your life.” You countered. “So what does that say about you?” 

“That I understand you.” Will fixed his eyes back on the road. “Maybe you’re just a little bit too much like me.” 

You tilted your head onto the window and watched the lights roll by. You felt yourself beginning to doze off when a familiar sound filled the silent car. 

It’s a long story, but one you’ve never heard before. This story is about a place that dwells in the mountain. A place where bad things happen. 

You turned your head and looked at Will with a smile. 

“What?” He laughed softly. “We have a long drive ahead of us.” 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in the presence of this familiar stranger and the comforting thriller. You only opened them again when Will gently shook you awake. 

“Hey.” He whispered, watching you struggle against sleep. “We’re here.”

You tried to pull yourself awake but instead found a slightly more comfortable position and shut your eyes again. 

He put his hand on your shoulder and shook a little harder. “I made up the couch for you. I promise it’s more comfortable than the car.” 

This time, you forced your eyes awake. Any flat surface that wasn’t made of thumbtacks sounded inviting to you. You pushed the passenger’s door open and wobbled on your legs. 

“Let me just grab my shit-” You mumbled, feeling around for the handle.

“It’s already taken care of.” Will told you, locking the car. He draped your arm over his shoulders and guided you towards the house. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” 

[granolabird]

I’ll Always be There For You

Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 

Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)

Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!

Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 

!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)

.

It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.

“Rick! Are you okay?”

Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,

“I’ll be alright, yeah.”

“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”

“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.” “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.

“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.

“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.

“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 

“Jeez!” 

“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.

Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.

“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.

“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.

“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.

“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”

“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 

If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.

“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.

“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”

“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 

“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”

“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”

“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.

“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.

“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.

“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”

“Rick!”

“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”

“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 

Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 

It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.

“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”

“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 

He still smiles just a little.

“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 

A pause, and then she says a little quieter

“You matter to me.”

He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.

“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 

“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 

“Rick!”

“Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.

“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 

Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.

“I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 

“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.

“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.

“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 

“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.

“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”

“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”

Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”

“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”

“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 

There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint

“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 

“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 

She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.

“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”

“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.

[wandaluvstacos]

The third chapter of my a/b/o alien story is now up on Patreon. The first three chapters will be free.

Do you enjoy the a/b/o trope? Do you hate it? Either way, maybe you’ll enjoy my story about hot egg-laying aliens? We’ve got heats, we’ve got hurt/comfort, we’ve got size differences, we’ve got everything the body and soul needs for a good time down over on my Patreon. Actually, it’s a super dark story, kind of what you’d get if you smashed The Handmaid’s Tale into Mad Max: Fury Road into a book but made everyone an alien with feathers instead of hair. I promise there is no outdated wolf pack dynamics. Where we’re going, there are no wolves!

Here is the story summary:

In the city of Yukiktrum, the hierarchy is clear even when the laws are not: Alphrim rule, betsra serve, and ometki bear young. Claiming a part of the city is easy, but keeping your territory is not, so Alprhim like Chramkut govern with talon and tooth. Maintaining power means control access to ometki, and by selling access to both them and their eggs, Chramkut has turned Themself into a ruthless and wealthy warlord.

Untkra once served as Chramkut’s prime ometki, but that time has passed, and Untkra has been replaced by someone younger. After one failed escape, it was only Untkra’s history with Chramkut that saved them from execution. Untkra knows that getting caught trying again will get them executed, but Unktra is willing to sacrifice everything if it means leaving the conflict-ridden city of Yukiktrum behind. This time, Chramkut’s prime laden ometki wants out, and they’ve begged for Untkra’s help. Untkra is done bearing offspring Untkra will never meet. It’s this way or death.

However, the desert landscape beyond the walls of Yukiktrum is hostile and unknown, and there’s no guarantee that there’s anything out there worth escaping to. What Untkra may not be ready for is what hope lays beyond the dunes, and the redemption that a new home can offer. Yet when another ometki needs saving, Yukiktrum calls Untkra back in what could be Untkra’s most daring rescue yet. 

Genre: Sci-Fi

Rating: 18+

T/W: This story is dark in nature, and while nothing explicit is ever shown, there are repeated references to rape (including underage), sexual slavery, and I suppose what equates to child trafficking (is selling eggs considered child trafficking?). There is also violence, murder, drug use, and prejudice/bigotry. This story also contains the trappings of a/b/o. It’s not so closely married to the trope as most a/b/o fics, but it is quite obviously based on it. 

Anyway, don’t read if you think egg-laying a/b/o aliens is weird, lol. Otherwise, welcome to the show!

Excerpt:

Suddenly the betsra was by Untkra’s side, their hand on Untkra’s shoulder. Untkra yanked away from their touch. The betsra lifted both hands in a placating gesture.

“How long have they been like this?” they asked.

“I—this’ll be the third blue day. They were supposed to have their eggs five blue days ago, but—”

“Twins, that’s not good.” They pulled back. “We’re going to prep for surgery.”

“Surgery? What? Can’t you—no, please, you can’t.”

“There’s no other way, the eggs have to come out now. If something’s not already ruptured, it will be soon.” The betsra turned to speak to Akche. “I’ve got two nurses on their way down. Akche, can you please…?” They jerked their head toward Untkra.

Akche moved forward and reached for Untkra, but Untkra danced away from Their hand.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here,” they stated firmly.

“You can’t stay here during surgery. It’ll only upset you.”

“I am not going to let you cut them up!” Untkra slithered over to the operating table and stood between Skralvu and the others. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

“Untkra, please. We’re doing this to save their life.” Akche moved forward again, and it triggered something deep and hysterical inside of Untkra. This room. A betsra doctor, looking so cool and unaffected. An Alphrim puppet lumbering forward, threatening to take them through any means. Desperate, pained klaptchrik chirps echoing all around them. Untkra was suddenly prepared to do anything and fight anyone. They weren’t going back. They weren’t going to get strapped to another fucking table with a curtain between them and their lower half, their pain ignored, their eggs whisked away without so much as one look. They weren’t going to let one more fucking simpering doctor touch the one child Untkra could ever claim.

Untkra grabbed the knife they’d stowed inside their bodysuit, and both Akche and the betsra doctor leapt back at the sight of it.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch either of us,” Untkra spat. “You’re just like all the rest of them. You don’t care about them, you only care about the damn eggs.”

“Untkra,” Akche said evenly, hands extended. “Put the knife down, please. We’re trying to save their life.”

“You’re liars. You’re all fucking liars. You’ll take us both and you’ll put us in little rooms and load us full of drugs so we stay nice and compliant—”

“That’s not true,” the doctor said softly, carefully. “I’m trying to help your friend.”

“You’re evil, just like the rest of them. You don’t care. None of you ever do. We’re just science experiments to you.”

“Untkra,” Skralvu wheezed from the table. “Please.”

“I won’t let them touch you,” Untkra said over their shoulder. “They’re not here to help you. No one will help us. No one will ever… will ever help…” Untkra found it suddenly difficult to breathe, and when they tried to speak all that emerged were high-pitched, whistling chirps. They could feel their knees start to shake, and their feathers began rattling. This wasn’t the first time such a reaction had struck them, but it was perhaps the least convenient time.

[wind-becomes-lightning]

In search of the perfect gift

Malewife & Girlboss central groupchat hosted another gift exchange, this time for Valentine’s Day (and it is already in my timezone so!!) We went full Canon x OC, so here is mine!

My lovely recipient is @yamanaka-shin!! Dear Soto, you might be terrified to write Shin and Kouta at the moment, but I am NOT! Now, I can guarantee you’ll like what I wrote, but I didnt shy away from it anyway. And YES if you wonder if I tricked you into revealing the full plot for this fic for me then the answer is YES, I DID ask on purpose and I thank you very much :D I hope you have a nice day today, full of des² discussions and movie nights and I send you hugs and kisses.

Pairing: Shin X OC

5011 words.

With Valentine’s Day coming up, Shin is inscure what gift their partner would want, and if he’d even want any. They start with asking around.

It was Minoru who brought the idea in their head first. Shin walked with him down the busiest street of the village, vendors on both sides hollering for attention of potential buyers. All products heartshaped, chocolate tasting and pink. Shin hadn’t even noticed and Minoru brought it up in a by the by fashion: “It’s Valentine's Day soon, huh.” It was clear to Shin pretty quickly that this was not something Minoru had just thought about, it was something that had been on his mind before.

Shin looked around themselves, noticing the little presents available for purchase, the necklaces and pendants, flowers and handmade chocolates. They shrugged: “It never crossed my mind before.” It was the truth. Shin had never been the romantic - romance sort of type. Love hadn’t crossed their mind until they’d seen their brother Sai go through it and then they’d experienced it themselves - sorta. It was all still very much up in the air, so short had they known Kouta now. Living together yes, but was that what a relationship was? Did that warrant romance? Did that warrant a present for a day like Valentines?

“What will you do for Kabuto?” Shin said, casually, trying to give the impression that they too knew what they were going to do. They knew they had nothing to fear with Minoru, that he’d never judge them for questions or insecurities, but somehow still, they felt embarrassed about it. Minoru whistled a high pitch whistle, arms stretched behind his back: “Probably just dinner. Spending time together and eating a nice meal. Just-” he paused, eyes soring far out “- enjoying each other’s company.” 

Shin nodded, fingers pressed together behind their back. That seemed like a couply thing to do, but in a way they could not quite place it felt like the wrong choice for Kouta. Not that the two of them never cooked and ate together, but a specific dinner for Valentine's day? Maybe that was a bit too much. Not at this point. “I see,” Shin said quietly, eyebrows knit together under their hair. “Do you buy chocolate?” Minoru scoffed a little: “If Kabuto wants them he has to get them himself” But then he laughed, eyes lighting up like the curious mouse he was: “Well.. maybe. If he is nice to me.” Shin couldn’t help but smile. “Well we will surely be at the bar in the evening, so if Kouta and you want to join us, feel invited.” They made a mental note about the invitation.

In the evening Shin still had this on his mind, eyes worryingly moving over the calendar on the opposite wall. They moved their slender fingers through Kouta’s wild, orange hair, something they really appreciated and cherished about him, completely lost in thought. What would make him happy? What was his expectation? Did he have any? Shin bit their lower lip in insecurity. “Hey” they said, again faking that casual way of speaking they’d tried out on Minoru earlier, “.. would you like chocolate for valentines day? I mean -” they scrambled “- is that something you would want?” Kouta opened his eyes and lifted his head up just so much that he could see his partner. “I don’t think that thought has ever crossed my mind.” Neither mine, Shin wanted to say, but they just shrugged their shoulders.

Kouta chewed on his tongue while mulling the question and Shin watched him expectedly. “I guess..” Kouta finally said “.. I wouldn’t need it.” Shin sighed. That was after all what they’d thought from the very beginning. “But if you’d want to do this whole thing, I guess I wouldn’t be opposed” he continued and Shin sighed a second time and this one was not out of relief. “It’s up to you really” Kouta moved away just a little to lay on his back, long feet stretching to the end of the bed they were both lying in. Shin didn’t like that answer very much. It left too much up for chance.

The next day they went down to the house they’d grown up in, an ivy overgrown little town house full of paper walls and paper doors and little space, which had never bothered anybody living in it. Shin and their brother's parents had been young themselves when they had taken them in, saved them from a horrendous future and so they lived cosy together in a three- room house for the longest time. They knocked at a wooden frame to announce their arrival, but their mother was already sitting expectedly in the common room, kotatsu turned on and feet warm and safe under it.

“Shin”, Akari smiled, her hair maybe a bit longer than usual, falling far over her usual neckline. Shin hadn’t seen her like this in a while, because they had been too busy to visit home much. “Mom”, they said, weighing their head from right to left with insecurity. Her eyes opened wide and knowing and she patted to the floor beside her: “Sit down, sweetheart.” They did as asked, feet immediately feeling warm under the covers. “Where is Dad?” they asked, eyes moving through the room. Nothing had changed much since they had moved out, besides, of course, them never visiting home. 

“Mission”, she narrowed her eyes, “But you didn’t come to ask about him.” Shin averted their gaze. It was a little unnerving how well his mother knew them, through all these years of raising them, through hours of watching them. “Spit it”, she said, tapping their leg under the kotatsu just slightly. They looked up: “How did you and Dad spend Valentine’s day?” Akari blinked as if she was unsure if she’d heard them right. Maybe she had expected a heavier topic, guessing from the serious look on their face, but then her face losend and she laughed. “Well..” her eyes blurred out, probably with memories of past years.

Shin waited, their foot tapping on the floor impatiently. “Normally we just spent time together” she said finally, the smile on her face quivering just a little. “Years ago it was when you were asleep, you and Sai, but now it is.. well… we will see..” Her voice trailed off at the end and Shin caught the underlying meaning maybe a bit too late. A shiver went down their spine and they frowned. They shouldn’t have asked. “Ah, alright”, Shin said, trying to prevent their mother from going into further detail.

Akari’s deer eyes again rested on them, looking Shin up until their torso. “Why?” she asked, an eyebrow raised under brown hair. Shin squirmed. They mulled over their options. In the end they decided to tell the truth: “I just don’t know what to do…with… you know..” Now it was their voice trailing off, losing itself in their thoughts. Akari barked a little laugh, the wrinkles around her mouth visible. “The weasel?” she asked and then added: “I don’t think he would even care about…” She caught herself mid sentence and instead changed course: “Shin.” Her voice was now caring and careful, soft and motherly, the voice forever etched into their mind from their childhood. “I think Kouta would like anything you’d offer him. I think you know best what he likes.”

Shin wanted to say that this was easier said than done, but they just moved their head to the side again, unhappy with that reply. They sighed: “Well, I guess so.” It was all they could think about and while their mother still had their eyes raised in motherly worry, they tapped the top of the table lightly a few times before saying: “Alright, I have somewhere to be..” It was a flimsy excuse, but Akari didn’t call them out on it. Instead she reached her hands out over the kotatsu and touched theirs: “I think you shouldn’t worry too much about it. I think he will be happy just with you there.” Shin nodded and climbed out from under the table. They told Akari to leave greetings to Shisui when she could and please, please not tell him why they had come by. Akari winked and promised. They left.

Another day on the calendar passed and Shin still had no idea what to do. They sat around their own little apartment table, rice bowl draped in front of them with vegetable and fried chicken and they flickered their gaze to Kouta from now and then. The other eventually locked his orange eyes back onto Shin, and eyebrows raised in question. “Oh nothing, nothing”, Shin said quickly, answering the question that had not been raised. “I’m just lost in thoughts.” Technically it was not a lie, a half truth, half lie, something that would hurt nobody to lie about. Kouta shrugged and continued stuffing his mouth with rice and chicken.

Shin went to the Yamanaka estate two days or so later, body packed into a tight winter jacket. February was never the warmest month in Konoha, but they could not remember a time when it had been this cold. On the way they saw couples sharing coffee and hot chocolate together and they ruffled their noses at the view. That surely didn’t seem like something they’d do with Kouta. Maybe romance really wasn’t something they’d ever be well versed in.

Sai ruffled his brother's hair as a welcome, now slightly taller than Shin, he was always playing up these little antics. Shin said: “Hi” and Sai smiled, eyes closed and lips turned up, a carefree, happy smile, that Shin could not get used to as much as he saw it. Sai had not been a happy kid when they’d met, before Akari had taken them both in, before they’d gotten a home. But now Sai had gotten another home,  soon another last name and a sense for romance. At least in Shin’s eyes. In falling in love he’d opened up to a side of himself neither had thought was even there. It had been like magic to watch.

“So, what brings you here?” Sai asked, rocking in his chair back on the porch of the big estate house. Sai's wife to be Ino was the heir of the Yamanaka clan that Minoru also belonged to and as such she had the choice to live in the main house, which was spacious and old. Not to compare to clan houses of Hyuuga and Uchiha obviously, but still pretty luxurious. “ I just want to visit my little brother…” Shin deflected, their shaky voice betraying the lie in their words. Sai crooked a brow, reading their face just like their mother had done: “There is something else on your mind, isn’t there?”

Shin sighed first, breathing in to find courage, then they realised they could ask Sai anything. That Sai would never judge them and always loved them unconditionally. “I’m wondering… what do you do for Valentine’s Day?” Sai blinked in surprise, just like Akari had, at the question. He frowned a little in thoughts. “Ino has a wide knowledge of flowers” he said, matter of factly. The Yamanaka clan wasn’t only known for their mind control jutsu, their surveillance, but also their excellent knowledge about flowers. “So, I don’t buy her flowers.”

“That makes sense”, Shin said, moving their hand, inviting Sai to continue. “I draw something nice, sometimes I let it appear if it’s very beautiful. Something to show how beautiful she is.” There it was again, this romanticism Shin had never really known until Sai had experienced it. This full devotion, overflowing with happiness and romantic love. Something they’d maybe never understand themselves. Or maybe they would. Who knew what the future held. “Ino handicrafts me chocolate”, Sai continued, his eyes blurring a little at the thought of it. “I pay her back a month later, during White Day.” The traditional couple, Shin thought. That was not like them and Kouta at all.

Sai returned from his thoughts, shaking his head a little to find his way back to reality. “Why the question? Are you wondering what to do with Kouta?” Shin squirmed, the embarrassment at it all suddenly coming back to them. They took a deep breath to get themselves together and then they nodded. “It was just not something on my mind,” Shin said earnestly. “And now that it is, I can't stop thinking about it. What does he expect? What can I do for him?”

“I think he’d be happy with whatever you do”, Ino’s voice rang beautiful and flowery as always from the inside of the house. She stepped out onto the porch, an apron draped over her violet dress. Her hands were full of soil, she must have been working in the shop and just returned. Sai’s eyes lit up upon seeing her and Shin suppressed the urge to hug both of them tightly. They really did make them happy. “Kouta doesn’t seem to be the person who needs a big event”, Ino continued, letting herself fall onto Sai’s lap, who accepted her gladly. “I’m sure something simple would be more than enough.”

Shin considered this. It aligned with the image they had of Kouta in their mind, but still.. After all, Kouta had mentioned he would do the chocolate exchange thing if Shin was up for it. But Shin didn’t even know if they were up for it themselves. They put their head to the side. “You are overthinking this too much, brother”, Sai said finally. “You know him the best. I’m sure you know what is the best option, without our help.” Ino nodded, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder with every movement: “I think Kouta is happy when you enjoy yourself. No matter what it is.”

Shin didn’t like this answer either. It too didn’t help them very much. Why was nobody giving clear instructions? Why couldn’t anybody just tell them: buy chocolate, buy flowers, treat to dinner, go to a hot spring -so they could just follow? “That’s what Mom said”, Shin said defeated and Sai raised his eyebrow again in amusement: “You asked Mom about this first?” he laughed a little and Shin felt an almost invisible blush on their cheeks. They’d had to ask someone, not everybody came to this romance thing as easily as Sai did. Maybe asking Minoru would have been the better choice.

As night left for the day, Shin watched Kouta’s steady breathing next to them in their bed. His orange hair was hanging wild into his face, like it had not been groomed for days. But Kouta took care of himself, he took more care of himself than Shin did, but his hair stayed wild. It was a wonderful thing about him, Shin loved it a lot. They knew that it was ridiciolous of course, to lose sleep about something as stupid as a holiday, but Shin couldn’t bury the feeling that this day should, maybe needed to be special. Special in some way. They still had no idea in which way.

Shin made their decision in the early hours of the next day, when the night already lit up at the end of the horizon. They weren’t sure about it all, but it was better to try and fail than to not try at all. Kouta was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the torment his partner had gone through over trivial things, when Shin left the bed and the apartment with it. Finally they had a plan. Almost nobody was outside, the streets of the village still deserted with people asleep. It was a Monday, yes, but it was early, so people were still asleep. Shin walked fast past shops with pink heart displays and kissing mannequin displays. That was not what they wanted. They entered the common supermarket.

Kouta woke around 10, orange hair streaks in his sleepy eyes. He blinked at Shin, who was now back in bed, a hand on the shoulder of the other. “You’re already awake?” Kouta asked with a voice heavy from sleep. Shin nodded, the smile on their face insecure, but loving. Kouta stretched and moved his nose into the air like a little animal: “What smells so good?” Shin’s smile got a little wider, a little more confident. They’d all told them to do what they thought was right and this surely must be it. They swallowed their insecurity down. “I made food”, Shin said, pointing at the little kitchen area of their apartment. “I thought you might enjoy some nice lunch together.” Kouta blinked. “Hmm”, he hummed, scratching the back of his head, but then he smiled.

They stayed in bed together for two more hours, hunched next to each other as if they were trying to keep warm on a cold day. Shin let Kouta talk about this and that, watching him move his hands when he rambled, bearing his teeth when he was annoyed and smiling when he talked about something he liked. It was nice. Shin felt pleased at the view. Maybe this was what it was all about after all. When their grumbling stomach could no longer be ignored they left the warm embrace of the blankets and pillows and went to the kitchen. Shin had made an easy meal, nothing too much out of their range and put it away so it would only need to be heated up.

Kouta looked at the table and took in the smell. He helped prepare the bowls, the chopsticks and the drinks, sniffing excitedly with each passing minute at the food now cooking again on the stove. “How could I have not woken up when you prepared this this morning?” Shin shrugged their shoulders, but they knew they had been very careful on purpose. Nothing too smelly, nothing too hot, nothing that would seep into the bedsheets and curtains. It took Kouta about 10 mins after they sat down to get it. His chopsticks hang half in the air, hovering dangerously over a rice bowl as if frozen in place. He looked up, the orange eyes blinking with realisation. “This is your Valentine’s Day present, is it not?”

Shin laughed. They couldn’t help it. The terror on their partners face was just too funny to look at. “Yes”, they said finally, tapping their glas with the pointer finger. “Parts of it.” Kouta choked on his vegetables. “Part?” he coughed. “I didn’t even know we were going to give each other stuff for this day and you already do multiple things?” The way he was offended amused Shin so much that they decided to tease just a little bit more. “I mean you can pay me back in a month”, they grinned. “White Day is just around the corner, you know.”

“Ha, ha” barked Kouta back, pouting a little. Shin snapped their finger lightly against Kouta’s arm. “It’s not a really big gift, so don’t get too annoyed about it.” Kouta didn’t seem convinced. “You know, I actually had no idea if we were at the point where we’d spend this day together as..” they cringed a little “.. a couple or not. And everywhere I looked people just said that I should trust myself to know what you like..” Their voice trailed off and Kouta looked interested, an eyebrow raised. “It turned out to be more difficult than anticipated… “ Shin had no stake in lying, so they were just telling the truth. 

“Is that why you asked me for the chocolate thing?” Kouta asked, his mind clearly mulling over Shin’s behaviour in the last days. “Yes, I guess, that is why I asked.” Shin scratched the bottom of their plate  a little with the chopsticks. Kouta laughed fondly: “And? That is when you decided to make a nice lunch?” Shin sighed and met their partners eyes, the orange gleaming in amusement. “Not.. exactly”, Shin said, insecurities suddenly back in their heart. That was the choice they’d make only a couple of hours ago and now they’d have to stick to it. Try it out, fail if necessary. Gamble a little. Maybe that was what romance was about in the end: the gamble.

“I will be out tonight,” Shin said slowly, watching the reaction to their words on Kouta’s face closely. “Minoru and Kabuto will, uhm, meet me at the bar.” Kouta nodded, almost not visible and Shin took this as a hint to continue: “I- I thought you want to stay here maybe? I got you some more novels to read, got you - got you some dinner food. You can just stay here and I will be back at night.” Shin had gambled on the numbers and thrown the dice, now it was on Kouta to decide if it had been worth it. If the trouble of the last few days had at least led somewhere. The other considered Shin’s words, eyes running around the kitchen to the boxes of take out stacked on the fridge. His nose fluttered in deep breaths that sniffed the air.

“Alright”, he said finally, eyes back on Shin. “Alright?” Shin asked back, their insecurity still gripping their heart. “That sounds like a good night”, Kouta’s face now turned into a grin, wide and handsome across his scarred face. Shin almost winced with relief, but they caught themselves in time. “Are you really okay with this?”, they asked just to make sure again, though the look on Kouta’s face already answered the question. “Oh yeah, absolutely. I hope you’re having a great time with the others. I’ll wait for you here.” Right, now that this part had gone over fairly well, Shin had an actual present. They pushed a small, non bound, non special packaged box of chocolate to Kouta. “For your reading sessions” Shin smiled and lost their breath just a little at the happy look on their partner's face.

“So you just left him there?” Minoru said, a hand slung over Kabuto’s right shoulder, an impressed look on his face. “Yes,” Shin nodded. They’d gone out, exactly like they’d announced to Kouta. Had left him laying on his back in their bed, balancing a book in his right hand. “Send greetings, tell them to not overdo it tonight”, he’d said and Shin had promised. There had still been doubt in their heart, but Kouta had seemed so happy and cheerful, well, it must have been the right choice. “I mean if he likes it”, Kabuto said in his usual calm and collected voice, eyes darting behind his round glasses. “There is nothing to say against it.” Minoru tapped his cheek: “I didn’t say I had anything against it.” They glared at each other a little, but then their expression softened up immediately. 

They stayed out until the night, exchanging stories with their friends. Shin felt cosy around them. It was odd to think that it never felt like they were the third wheel tagging along. Even when Minoru and Kabuto started a conversation about something Shin hadn’t been part of and their hands moved slowly over the arms, cheeks and shoulders of the other, Shin didn’t feel out of place. It was weirdly comforting to be there. As if the stress they’d made themselves over the last couple of days hadn’t happened at all. Somewhere in their heart they knew that while Kouta would have been fine right here beside them, he felt much more comfortable at home. Shin couldn’t help but wonder if he’d liked the chocolate they bought. If it had been enough.

Shin returned around midnight, Valentines day had come and gone without them ever figuring out which type of romance was the exact right of romance, and they slid into their apartment as silently as their root origins had taught them. Kouta was asleep, Shin heard his quiet snoring immediately and so they walked on tip toes into the bathroom to wash up a little before joining him. They’d had a little to drink, not as much as the others, who had staggered home arm in arm eventually, so their cheeks were slightly flushed. But of course it had also been cold outside. They washed their face, washed out their hair a little to prevent it from stinking and then changed clothes. 

Shin couldn’t help but feel happy at the view in front of him as he entered their bedroom. Kouta was laying on his back, a book balancing on his stomach like he’d fallen asleep mid reading. Many books on the ground told them that he’d gone through quite some of the ones Shin had brought him and the empty box of chocolate told them that he’d actually eaten the present. Shin didn’t need to check the kitchen to figure out that Kouta had also enjoyed the takeout food provided. Empty boxes were stacked on the ground below the bed. Probably Kouta had still wanted to clear it away, but fell asleep instead. It was cute in its own way, Shin thought. 

Their best efforts of being silent were in vain, as Kouta woke immediately when Shin moved onto the mattress. As if he’d had his ears steeled to the tiniest sound, he yanked his eyes open at once, the oranges sleepily looking at Shin. “You’re back”, he said drowsily, just as heavy as he’d been in the morning. Shin said “Yes” softly and let their partner move forward to snuggle his head under their arm. “You ate the chocolate”, Shin noted, making a gesture towards the empty box with their head. “It was good, thank you”, Kouta’s voice came muffled from below them. “And the food?” Shin let their hand move through the messed up hair. “You know I like it,” Kouta said, pinching Shin’s arm a little, “That is why you bought it for me.” Shin hummed in agreement.

“Did you have fun?” Kouta asked, finally laying his head onto Shin’s shoulder, his hair tickling them in the nose a little. “Oh yes, both Minoru and Kabuto were a little drunk in the end. I mean you know how it is.” Kouta laughed in memory of other evenings together they’d had. “Overall it was good though. I enjoyed being out.” Kouta closed his eyes satisfied and smiled a wide smile. Shin just sat there watching him for a moment, letting themselves bask in the warm fondness they felt from Kouta’s happy face, his arm slung around their arm, his head on their shoulder. It didn’t matter if the both of them weren’t a couple for classic romance. That Shin didn't know immediately what to do, what gift to give. That they’d spend this day apart. In the end they always had each other and that was, after all, the best gift of all of them.

“I’m so glad you had a great time” Kouta said finally, breaking the comfortable silence they had both sat in for the last two or three minutes. “I’m always happy if you are happy.” Shin pressed his arm a little, the words seeping into their heart. “Did you enjoy yourself here?” Shin asked, now a finger in orange hair. Kouta immediately delved into a little rant about the novel he’d read second, something about a main character being stupid, that he’d bite them if he could to “get some sense in to them, what the fuck”, and that he’d much rather enjoyed book number 4, 5 had put him to sleep. He gestured to it. “Garbage”, he nodded. Shin frowned a little, teasing their partner: “So you say I bring you bad books? On this very day of romantic gestures?”

“God no, you did absolutely perfect”, Kouta said, not taking the bait at all. “I couldn’t imagine a more perfect day than this one. You gave me good food, more good food, snacks, books and you had a great night out with people you like. What more could I ask for?” Shin put their chin on Koutas head. “I could have never come up with it,” he continued, gesturing again. “Like, you know me so well that you just knew. That is so impressive to me.” Maybe this would have been the chance to tell Kouta about the days of hardship Shin had had with picking exactly this present for him. That they’d asked different people for advice and support and ultimately only decided the morning of. But Shin said nothing, just nodding along and taking the praise. Their partner didn’t need to know everything.

“But now”, Kouta whispered, his eyes still closed, “I want to spend time with you together.” He wrapped his arms around Shin and pulled them down into the cushions. “With me?” Shin asked, their heart just jumping for a moment. “Yes, just, with you.” Kouta cuddled his head into Shin again and they slung their arm around him in turn. If closeness is what he wanted, he could have it. After all, Shin also enjoyed it. Maybe that was what romance was all about in the end, Shin thought, nose full of the scent coming from Kouta’s hair. About being together, about making the other happy even if that means being apart, about knowing what the other wants. 

They’d all been right of course, all the people who had advised them just followed their heart. “You know Kouta best”, they’d said and Shin had cursed all of them for their vagueness, but in the end they had been right. Nobody knew Kouta as well as Shin and nobody knew Shin as well as Kouta. To make this day special Ino might need a portrait and Sai a gift, his mother needed her husband home and Minoru a fancy dinner, but Kouta just needed Shin around for a while, needed them to be happy. And Shin had no trouble giving this gift to him. Now they were just huddled together, being close for a bit, enjoying each other’s company. It was enough for both of them. 

“The perfect day, huh?” Shin said, their eyes now closed too. They let their head fall to the side to be more comfortable. “I guess I expect nothing less than perfect from you during white day.” Shin smiled, feeling how sleep pulled them underwater. “Pff, shut up, idiot” Kouta mumbled from under their arm and both laughed a little.

[starshine583]

could you do A for the soul mate thing with felinette?

(Sorry it took me so long to reply! I’m still trying to keep up with my schedule for the “New Girl on the Block” fic, but rest assured that I’m totally writing all of the requests for this when I can! The next one I’m going to be working on is V for Daminette. I hope you enjoy the snippet and thank you for the ask!!)

If someone had the choice between technical immortality and certain death, it should be safe to assume that that person would accept the former. Technical immortal was the only logical option, after all. No one wanted to die. And yet, people chose death everyday. In fact, they were obsessed with it, because certain death guaranteed one thing that immortality couldn’t: a soulmate. 

When a person turns eighteen, their aging process freezes due to some strange magic that scientists still can’t explain. From then on, that person will remain eighteen until they find their soulmate, specifically until they touch their soulmate directly with bare skin. Once their soulmate is found, they will begin aging as usual, as if they’d never become temporarily immortal in the first place. Some people speculate that this gives the two soulmates a chance to grow old together.

Felix, personally, believed that it gave him a chance to harbor an unlimited life span free of charge. Who needs a soulmate when you can explore all of the things in the world that are normally hindered by the aging process? There were too many things that he wanted to accomplish for him to worry about something as fickle as love or relationships. 

One of those things happened to be building up the fashion empire that he had inherited.

It was hard to gain the respect that he deserved at first considering his physical appearance made him seem like a child, but once people found out that he was in his late twenties, it made things much easier. Now, three years has passed since his accepting the role of acting CEO, and the company’s success rate has been steadily rising until their profits were through the roof. He’s quite proud of it, if he’s being honest.

Felix straightened the papers on his desk and set them to the side, catching the glimpse of his golden wrist watch as he did so. The little hand pointed towards one in the morning, telling him that he’d spent another late night at the office. He didn’t mind, though. These were the things that needed to be done for his company to excel.

However, he also needed sleep for the company to excel, and this seemed like a good stopping point if ever he saw one, so Felix stood from his rolling chair to begin gathering his things to leave. 

“Hey, Sir, are you up there?” A voice crackled across the intercom. Felix paused his preparations to smile at it. It was the unmistakable voice of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, his personal secretary for the last two years (and his close friend for the last year and a half). They always happened to work late on the same nights, didn’t they?

He pressed the glowing red button on the intercom. “You know I am. What do you need?”

“I’m working on another piece for a fashion show. I want your input.”

Felix chuckled. How many of her pieces had he given his input on now?

“I’ll be down there in a second.”

“You’re the best!”

Felix set his stuff back on the desk and moved towards the door to his office. He hesitated briefly when he spotted his black, leather gloves on the edge of his desk- he made a point to wear them constantly, along with a number of other pieces of clothing, so he could avoid direct skin contact with others. No sense in taking any chances -but decided to leave them alone for once. Marinette should be the only other person in the office, anyway. It wouldn’t make a difference.

He took an elevator down to the second floor, where most of his top designers worked, and walked over to the desk that had its lamp turned on. He’d know which desk was hers either way- could probably find it in his sleep at this point -but it was a nice give away.

Marinette was crouched on the floor when he got there, stabbing a needle into some material that was draped across a mannequin. Her eyes were narrowed with concentration, and her tongue was poking out of her lips as it always did when she was working hard. Felix held back a snort at the endearing sight and glanced around her desk while he waited for her to notice his presence. 

When she first joined his company, she was a budding fashion designer, someone who had been gaining a bit of fame for working with Gabriel Agreste, Jagged Stone, Aubrey Bourgeois, and many other note-worthy people. Apparently, she thought it was time to build a business of her own, and therefore, applied for the job as his personal secretary in an effort to gain experience on how a business should be run before actually starting anything. 

The notion admittedly impressed Felix. People rarely thought to find personal experience in running a business before actually starting one. They normally just took a class and hoped that it paid off. Someone with that kind of rational thinking was someone he knew he wanted in his company, though, so he agreed to hire her, even if she would still be working independently on personal commissions.

Now that two years had passed, she would probably be leaving any minute now to become her own boss. It might be in a week, or in a few months, perhaps even a year, but he found himself dreading it no matter how long she continued to work for him. He’d grown quite accustomed to having her in his life, be it getting lunch together or going over the morning schedule or giving each other advice on their work. The quiet moments they shared made work life a little more enjoyable and made those rare nights of loneliness from refusing a soulmate a little more tolerable too. 

“Oh, Felix!” 

Felix’s eyes dragged back down to Marinette, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

“When did you get down here?”

A small smile crossed his lips. “You know how it used to be one in the morning?”

Marinette tisked, picking up on his light-hearted tone. “Oh, whatever. If you don’t want to get stuck waiting then tell me when you get here. Now, come look at this and tell me what you think.”

She stood up and moved away from the mannequin, then gestured for Felix to step closer, which he gladly obliged to do. The outfit hanging on the mannequin was a dress that appeared to have several layers and a few frills. It seemed to be made out of silk on the inside, and on the inside was another material that had an antique, flower pattern. The way the materials were sown together, though, and the things she must have added to the flower pattern, didn’t  give off the impression of it being old or outdated. It was a mix between old and new that created a unique combination.

“I think it looks fine.” He said after studying it.

Marinette groaned. “Fine doesn’t help me, Felix. What does it strike you as? Stunning? Charming? Old-Fashioned? I know you have more descriptive terms than ‘fine’ in that word bank brain of yours.”

Felix laughed. “Work bank brain?”

“You know what I mean.”

He does.

“Alright, Alright.” He knelt down next to the outfit again. “Might I inquire about your purpose for this garment?”

“See, there are fancy words you use all the time.” She remarked teasingly, even though she often used the same words herself. “I’m trying to create a modern Victorian type of style for my next show.”

Felix hummed. “Can I see the sketches?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re right over here.”

The pair moved back to Marinette’s desk, and she sat down in her rolling chair to slide a paper towards him. Felix leaned towards Marinette, placing his palms on the desk for balance.

“So, if you look at- oh!” Marinette had just started explaining her original thoughts for the design, when their hands brushed against each other. She drew her hand back immediately, surprise reflecting in her bluebell eyes.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.”

“Ah.” Felix drew his hands back as well. “No, I’m not. I figured they were a waste of time tonight, since it’s only us here.”

“Oh..” Marinette said. “I don’t think I’ve ever touched your bare skin before.. N-not that I’m keeping track or anything! Wow, that sounded so weird-”

Felix, being used to her ramblings by now, only chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t think we’ve ever touched like that either.”

In fact, he knew they hadn’t, because he does keep track of who he does and doesn’t touch with his bare skin. So far, he’s managed to maintain a low count of five or so, but he supposed adding one more to the list didn’t hurt.

“Anyway, I like the way it looks. The colors combine nicely, and I can certainly see where you’re coming from with the modern, yet old-fashioned design. I’m sure people will enjoy them, especially for costume parties.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Marinette smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. I’m actually on my way out the door, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.”

“You know I won’t.”

Felix laughed and pushed himself off of the desk to begin making his way back to the elevator. “Make sure you leave soon too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.. Eventually.”

Felix threw her a playful glare over his shoulder. “I’m not kidding, Dupain-Cheng. If I see bags under those eyes tomorrow, you’re going to be fired until you get a proper night’s sleep.”

“Thank goodness for make-up then.” She joked back.

Felix rolled his eyes and bid her farewell as he entered the elevator, and her soft call of “Goodnight, Boss” managed to reach him right before the doors slid closed.

-

The next morning began as any other morning. Felix woke up to his blaring alarm clock, forced himself out of bed, and started the brew for his morning coffee. He then dragged himself over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, starting with his hair.

The mirror provided a picture of his sluggish figure as he combed his platinum blond locks to the side. His hair didn’t seem to care to cooperate that morning though, because his cowlick was refusing to lay aside as they were told. No matter how many times he combed over it, the chaotic locks refused to budge.

Felix huffed and leaned closer to the mirror, but before he could continue furiously coming his hair, something caught his attention.

At the front of his bangs, dangling loosely to the side of his face, was a single, grey hair.

Felix frowned, moving even closer to the mirror to get a better. It was definitely a grey hair, but why on earth would he have one? People at the age of eighteen didn’t get grey hairs, and he’d never gotten one before. The only reason he could possibly get a grey hair out of the blue like this was if-

Felix froze, his eyes blowing wide. No.. no, it couldn’t be. There’s no way he found his soulmate. It was impossible. The aging process only started when he touched them directly, skin to skin, and he’d been horribly precise not to do so with anyone under any circumstances. 

Well.. anyone except..

A knock came from the front door.

Although his mind was racing for answers, Felix pulled himself together enough to throw on a robe and go answer the door. 

Imagine his surprise when he found none other than Marinette standing right outside.

She looked up at him, her figure tense, and a certain anxiety painted her features. He wanted to ask what she was doing there, or why she hadn’t called to tell him that she was coming, but all he could do was stare. Perhaps it was because a part of him already knew why she’d come to visit him. She was the only person he’s touched directly in the last year, the only person who could have caused his hair to change.

Slowly, Marinette held up a strand of her hair. It was hard to make out, being a single strand, but Felix didn’t need to see it know it was grey too.

They stared at each other, both floored by the discovery, but then Felix almost had to laugh. Because of course it was her. Of course the person who he had come to know and adore and yearn to be around daily would be his soulmate. He should have known that soulmates would find each other eventually, whether they had “Soulmate Magic” to guide them or not.

Before he could say anything, Marinette let out a grieved sigh and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Felix, I.. I’m so sorry!”

For a moment, Felix stalled, and worry started to set in. She’s sorry? Why would she be sorry?

“What do you mean?”

Marinette looked up from her hands. “I know you didn’t want to find your soulmate and start aging. I should have noticed your ungloved and been more careful, but I just wasn’t thinking, and-”

Felix blinked as she continued rambling. This girl was apologizing to him because she accidentally found out that they were soulmates. She wasn’t thinking about how much she’d wanted to find her soulmate- because he knew that she did -or that she would have gone without a soulmate for the rest of her life had she not made the discovery. No, she was thinking about him and what he had wanted, just as she always did.

“Marinette.” He said, taking her by the shoulders. “Marinette, stop.”

The ravenette paused, glancing up at him with her beautiful, concerned eyes, and he felt himself smile. 

“If anyone had to be stuck as my soulmate.. I can’t express how delighted I am that it’s you.”

A wonderful blush tinted her cheeks. “R-Really? But I thought- what about being immortal?”

Felix chuckled, and he reached out to cup her cheek. “Immortality’s a small price to pay to have you.. if you’ll have me too, that is.”

Marinette exhaled, looking completely baffled, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“Yes.” She breathed, a shining smile coming to her features. “Yes, of course I’ll have you.”

Felix couldn’t help grinning as well, and as he pressed another kiss to her lips, he wondered how it could have taken him so long to realize what the soulmate magic was really all about. It wasn’t a choice between immortality or death, but rather a choice between immortality and life. All of the things he’d been searching for- fame, fortune, glory -and the experiences he’d been chasing meant nothing without Marinette by his side. She was the one who made him feel truly alive, and he never wanted to live without her again.

(Send me a letter and I’ll write a thing!)

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Could you do something like 🌾 and 💥? It could be a scientist or a fairy or a vampire for all I care lol - your writing is amazing, by the way ☺️ (You can ignore this if you want to, but I would appreciate it if you at least read it :D. Anyway, thanks!)

...

Er, okay...I actually write for this as soon as I got it.

And...

I guess you’re about to read my first NSFW fic.

I mean, it’s not super graphic - it’s all very tasteful - but yeah...wlw pleasuring is on the menu tonight.

And I hope it isn’t too spicy.

WARNING: NSFW BELOW! 18+ ONLY!

***************

“Snrk...ungh...”

Veron wiped her runny nose with the picnic blanket. The coarse cloth irritated her face, but she had no choice. Drix, who was sitting cross-legged next to her, watched the half-giant with fascination.

“You okay, Vee?” she asked. “That’s quite a sniffle you’ve got there. You gettin’ sick?”

Veron shook her head. “I’ve been sneezing all day, but I don’t feel a chill...”

She snorted, then sighed as she leaned back on the blanket. They had barely gotten comfortable when her nose began to tremble. Veron shot up, holding her hands in front of her face.

“Heheh...g-gonna...GEH...!”

Veron quickly grabbed the front of her robe and buried her face deep within it.

“SHEW! GSH’SHEW! Ghuh...huh...”

Drix was still staring at her girlfriend, eyes wide as moons. Veron tried to keep her nostrils at bay by covering them with her sleeve.

“Suh-sorry, dewdrop. By dose...”

Tears streamed out of Veron’s eyes as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to somehow massage the irritation away. After that proved fruitless, she used the palm of her hand to stretch and flatten the tip of her quivering nose. Her fluttering eyes were only half open.

While Veron was busy hitching, Drix bit her lip, thinking.

“M-maybe,” she stammered, “that goldenrod’s botherin’ ya. Or the wildflowers. They’re all in bloom and fulla pollen this time of year.”

“Meh...maybe...but whatever it is...it’s going to make me...blow this whole forest down...”

Suddenly, Veron gave Drix a side-glance.

“Are you...is this...?”

Veron looked at Drix’s tightly crossed legs. Despite her breathlessness, the giantess chuckled.

“H-here...why don’t you heh...help me...”

Veron pointed to a field of goldenrod next to Drix. The forest sprite turned as red as the afternoon sun, but complied. The giantess loosened the top of her tunic, letting only the shuddering curvature of her breasts show. She laid her head on the blanket, her long, red hair sprawling in all directions.

“C’mon...snrk...d-don’t be shy...”

Clutching the flower to her chest, Drix stumbled onto her mistress, their body shaking with expectation.

“Wh-what do I-?” Drix began, but Veron put a finger on the sprite’s lips.

“Shhh...whatever you want, my love. Take away, give, stifle. Have your way with me, Drix, I beh...beg of you...”

Drix trembled, the rolling in her stomach reaching a peak as she felt Veron’s quivering body beneath her. After a few moments, she took the goldenrod and began to trace Veron’s nostrils. The giantess sniffled, but tried her best to keep the tickle from getting the best of her.

Drix put her hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, then slowly traced her fingers around Veron’s exposed breasts. Her hand went under the tunic and traced Veron’s every curve with the tip of her fingernails, and finally came to rest on the giant’s upper thigh. With the other hand, Drix started to stroke Veron with the goldenrod, the flower going almost completely inside the giantess’s quavering nose.

“Be...huh...c-careful...” Veron warned, her nostrils wrinkling.

“You know you want to,” Drix said, finding sudden courage in her pleasure. “That nose of yours can’t keep it up much longer.”

Veron gave a shaky smirk. “You ch-cheeky bastard...”

Drix’s hand traveled lower and lower until she found exactly what she was looking for.

“Looks like somethin’ else can’t wait,” Drix teased, beginning to fan her fingers into a gentle stroke. She lifted the golden rod to Veron’s nose again, trying to match its movements to the ones down below.

Veron began to gasp for air, her fingers digging into the grass beside her. Her nostrils flared with new vigor.

“Huh...HUH...!”

Both hands went deeper and deeper, and Veron shuddered and shifted desperately.

“I...th-thing...huh...”

Veron pressed her legs together and put a wrist to her nose.

“Almost there,” Drix purred, continuing despite the giantess’s best efforts.

“Neh...heh...c-can’t...hold it...beh...HEH...”

Suddenly, with a gasp, Veron’s body opened like a rose, her tunic sliding completely off.

“GASH’CHIIIIIEEEEEW!”

Drix held onto Veron’s waist with one hand, still pleasuring her with the other. It was all she could do to not fall off, both from Veron’s jerking and her own desire.

“H-hhhhngh...”

The giantess wrapped her arms around Drix, moaning. For a moment, they were completely in sync with their bodies, which were pressed against each other like convergent rivers colliding after an earthquake.

“Ngh...g-gonna...” Veron said before her chest heaved yet again. Drix braced for impact.

“GSH’CHUUUUH! Heh...eh...”

Another moan escaped her lips, her freckled nose streaming and red. Her eyes rolled into her head as she convulsed yet again. Drix rested her head against her exposed chest. Her unapologetic cries were music to the sprite’s ears.

Veron finally quieted, and let her hands fall to her side. Drix slid off her girlfriend’s body, panting.

“I...I think,” Drix whispered, “we’ll need to get a need to get a new blanket...”

Veron was silent for a moment, catching her breath.

“No,” she replied after a time. “I think this one suits us just fine.”

******************

Oh wow. Goodness.

I am...definitely bisexual.

This clinches it.

Um...

I hope you enjoyed. I...certainly did. Sorry if it’s a little short, but I was kind of nervous. I’m still working through some guilt about my content. This will be gigantic step for me.

Also, this does not give people permission to send me NSFW asks! I will write NSFW on my own time, and I don’t want my inbox to be filled with a bunch of nasty stuff, ‘kay?

Alright, you know the drill. If you hate the fic, I’ll rewrite it for you. It’s called the Hand Slipped Guarantee. You kink is in good hands!

[diavolosthots]

I saw the amazing fic about Diavolo meeting his mc’s strict religious parents. Could you please do that for Levi too?

I got it. I realized that i will probably pull most of these "sources" from the bible since thats the easiest religious text to find these demons in.

Warning: religion

Defend Me ( LEVIATHAN X GN!READER )

He felt uncomfortable from the get go. Meeting people in general completely throws him off and his anxiety went through the roof when you told him you wanted him to meet your parents. Your parents! How could he leave a good impression on them? “Hi I’m a demon. I play video games most of the time and have social anxiety. Achievements? Well I’m also the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, but don’t worry! I treat them with the utmost respect because truthfully I don’t even know how I landed with them in the first place, but here we are, and I don’t want to lose them.” He can’t say that! He would sound like an absolute fool! They will think he’s way too weird for you the minute he walks in, anyway. He screams gamer-otaku-with-no-life, for goodness sakes! You can’t tell me that’s what they would want for you!

That’s why he pushed it off. For months he made up some ridiculous excuse of why he couldn’t go or why you should stay home with him. He even once went as far as to say your parents were sick and got Satan involved to actually get them sick! Nothing bad… just the seasonal flu, but still. Can’t you see that he really doesn’t want this? Well, you can see it, but you just don’t really seem to care. This is important to you and thus he, reluctantly, agreed to participate. He agreed to let Hell rise up and to try and be kind to your parents. Now.. as much as you wanted to believe him, you actually had your doubts. You knew your dad was going to tear him a new one and your mom was probably going to make fun of him too… but… you had faith in him that he could take the less.. Harmful jokes and hopefully not get too aggravated with the more rude ones… you prayed that, since he isn’t Satan, he won’t take too much offense to them.

“Ready?” Levi shook his head, looking at the bouquet of flowers in his hand, “are these okay? That’s what humans do right? They bring flowers for the mom? I saw it in a show once…” You laughed softly; he saw everything in a show once and thinks that this is how the world works. Well, he wasn’t completely wrong and it just shows that he can be a gentleman. “Yeah.. they’re fine. Okay, here we go.” You rang the doorbell, waiting for your mom to open the door, but it was actually your dad. “Dadd---!” “Hold on sweetie, who is this?” Your dad immediately stepped out and eyed Levi up and down, which made him more than uncomfortable, but he just clenched the flowers in his hand and forced himself to smile, “My name is Levi, sir. I’m their b-boyfriend.” You cringed silently. He was doing so good! But that stutter. 

Your dad eyed him once more, his eyes landing on the flowers in Levi’s hand, “ah. Listen, kid, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing but those flowers are not going to make up for the absolute wreck you are and under no circumstance are you coming into my house with that cosplay jacket on.” You gasped loudly, slapping your dad on the arm, “dad! Those flowers are for mom and it’s not a cosplay jacket, it’s just a jacket!” You shake your head, taking Levi’s hand and dragging him inside, but Levi was still too focused on the fact that he just got made fun of not once, but twice, in the same sentence. “Mom! Come meet my boyfriend, and please be nicer than dad.” Levi could hear laughter from a room nearby and was soon greeted by a grinning woman; at least she looked friendly.

“Don’t be too hard on your dad. You know he’s just looking out for you.” Levi gained some confidence back, smiling softly as he held out the flowers, “These are for you, ma’am. My name is Levi.” Your mom gave him the same up and down look your dad gave him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable again, but your mom took the flowers and smiled at him anyway. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. Oh! And these are so pretty! Come. Sit down. (Y/N), have you offered him some water? Oh dear, where are your manners?!” He could see you throw your arms up in frustration as you tell your mom that you literally just got here, and walked off with her. He suddenly felt so alone, kind of weird too, in a strange house, but he decided to enter the room your mom just came out of and noticed it was the living room. He also noticed that it was turned to some kind of christian music channel and a quick glance around told him that Jesus was watching him from every angle, literally, “so. Besides banging my child, what else do you do?” Levi almost choked, quickly turning around as a deep red flushed over his cheeks, “I-I don’t… ‘bang’ your child, sir. We uhm… we’re far from that step.”

“And that better stay that way, kid, unless you want to become friendly with my gun collection.” Levi shook his head, trying to avoid eye contact, “no, sir. I’m great.” Your dad scoffed, calling back out to your mother and you, “what’s taking you two so long? Another minute with this softie and he might turn into a puddle.” You rolled your eyes as you walked up with glasses of water that you sat down on the coffee table, “leave him alone, dad, he’s a good guy.” “yeah and apparently made out of cotton candy. He can barely stand straight, and you want to date that?” Levi felt bad; of course he knew you could do so much better than him. Hell, he’s told you that before, it’s just that you don’t listen! “He’s a good boy? Yeah I can see that. His name is Levi for goodness sakes; what’s that short for anyway? Seriously sweety, you could do so much better than that thing over there, but I suppose being taken away from a good home and thrown into that useless exchange program does kill a few brain cells.”

Oh no. Oh no, see what we’re not going to do is insult you. “What did you just say?” Your dad’s gaze flicked over to Levi’s, grinning smugly at him, “what? Got your panties in a twist, kiddo? Let me say it again, yo--” “No. No, no, no! See what we’re NOT going to do is bash on your own child!” Levi gets up, obviously getting angry, “You can throw my name around all you want, which, by the way, is Leviathan in full, and yes, I’m exactly that sea monster mentioned in that God awful fanfiction you call the word of the Lord. They!” He angrily points at you, feeling his blood boil beneath his skin, “are the best thing that has ever happened to you, considering you couldn’t get your cock up anymore if you wanted to with that elephant of a body you call ‘attractive’. I might not be the smartest, hell, I’m not even attractive, but I know for a fact that your child is the smartest, most considerable being that has ever graced this terrible excuse of a planet and I am NOT, “ he clenches his teeth, turning into his demon form and lashing out with his tail as he pulls your father up by the collar, “letting a measly excuse for a human being tear that beautiful soul down.” He roughly pushes your father back down, hissing at him as storms flashed behind his eyes. 

“Levi..---!” He grabbed your hand roughly, dragging you out of there and onto the street, not caring that people are seeing him as something other than human, other than normal. “Levi!” But he only shook his head, watching the portal open and dragging you through it. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), but I cannot just sit there and let him talk bad about you! What kind of father is that? I mean don’t get me wrong, I had my fair share of shitty parents, but at least my father didn’t think I was a complete waste of space.” He was breathing heavily, his body still tensed as you reached out for him, kind of scared but also slightly… turned on. “Levi… you’re so sweet.” you laughed softly, wrapping yourself around him and nuzzling into his neck, feeling him calm down and no doubt, feel a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d stand up to him, but… It’s nice to know that you have my back.” 

He frowned, wrapping his arms and tail around you tightly, “Of course I have your back. No one gets to speak so terribly about you, not even your father… I knew there was a reason why I hate socializing. No offense but I can guarantee that man isn’t going to the pretty clouds in the sky, no matter how much he pretends to be a saint.” You shook your head, still laughing softly, “no offense taken… he was always a little… harsh. I wish you would’ve paid attention to his face. He was so shocked to see you, not only defend me and yourself, but also just being able to pick him up…. It was worth the little bit of hurt.” He shook his head, kissing down your shoulder, “You should never ever have to deal with that. I mean it. You’re the smartest and most considerable. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.” “Well… don’t let anyone tell you any different either.”

“Now you’re just asking too much from a shut-in otaku like me…” 

[banrionceallach]

Reverse AU Crowley/Harry Omens Short

This will only make sense if you’ve read both my main fic and my scraps on AO3. Posting it anyway.

Raphael is still here.

He is still here and he keeps smiling at Aziraphale all the time.

Aziraphale keeps smiling back.

Crowley hates it.

He is not jealous, he tells himself, as he watches Raphael sit on a couch in the back of the bookshop. Raphael is currently pouring over an arcane text that Aziraphale thinks might solve the ‘angel from an alternate universe’ problem.

Crowley has known Aziraphale for six thousand years. He has argued and dined with and gotten drunk with the angel innumerable times. They’re best friends. Aziraphale walked into hell for him and sassed Michael into the bargain. He knows Aziraphale loves him. They are raising (another) child together, for Someone’s sake.  Some alternate universe angel is not going to change that.

Even if he is basically a better version of Crowley.

Stupid angelic tosser. With his stupid round pupils and his stupid white wings and his stupid long braided hair that Aziraphale spent a whole minute complimenting after lunch.

( It is just possible that Crowley is trying to grow his hair out as quickly and discreetly as possible.)

Currently Crowley is alone with the Archangel Bloody Raphael, because the aforementioned child that Crowley and his angel are raising together had a sleepover with the former antichrist and Aziraphale has gone to Tadfield to pick him up and also consult the local witch on their Alternate Universe Angel problem. Normally picking up Harry from a friend’s house is something Crowley does in the Bentley, but today the knowledge that that would have left Aziraphale alone with Raphael for over an hour had made him strongly suggest that Aziraphale should go, and use the opportunity to consult the witch.

Crowley really hopes Book Girl has something. He doesn’t know how much more of the archangel’s presence he can take without jumping across the room and trying to claw his stupid perfect eyes out.

He notices the other red-head has put down his book and is looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“What are you looking at?” he demands.

Raphael shrugs innocently. “I was just surprised you didn’t go to Tadfield instead of Aziraphale.” He waves a hand at the piles of esoteric text cluttered around the room. “It would have been more efficient for you to bring Anathema here while we continued to research, wouldn’t it?”

“Leaving Aziraphale alone with you?” Crowley snaps, with rather more honesty than he prefers. “Not likely!”

Raphael arches a fine auburn eyebrow. “Are you always this possessive?” he asks and damn him, there is actual genuine concern in his tone. Who is he to be concerned about Aziraphale? He has his own version, yes? That he should be wanting to get back to? A tiny part of Crowley still doubts that. He can’t imagine a demon Aziraphale, can’t imagine Aziraphale Falling.

It hurts to think about.

“Possessive?” Crowley sputters, wrenching his mind away from the possibility of a horrified spiral into guilt. “I am not!”

And the thing is, he isn’t. Not usually. But of course, it occurs to him, it’s been rather easy to not be possessive when he can be safe in the knowledge that no one else on the planet has a hope of competing for Aziraphale’s affection. Not humans, not other demons, definitely not other angels.

Except now, there is another angel. An angel who never fell, still bathing in Her favour. With Crowley’s face. And, key point, without the more demonic attributes caused by the Fall.

He is polite and gentle and exudes a puppy-like bouncy enthusiasm and he keeps smiling at Aziraphale and Crowley hates everything about him.

“Really?”

“Really,” Crowley snaps back, baring his fangs. “I am concerned for his safety. For all I know, this could still be some trick by Above and Below to attack us. You could be in on it.”

“You really are very suspicious, aren’t you?” Raphael says, grinning like Crowley has just said something amusing.

“Demon,” Crowley snaps. “Goes with the job description. Suspicious, sly, evil demon.” He notes with satisfaction that his blunt reference to his status makes Raphael go pale and twitch slightly. Good.

“You’re not that demonic,” Raphael says softly after a moment, giving him a considering look. “I think Azirafell is worse. Better, I mean. At demoning.”

This is too much.

Crowley snarls and surges to his feet. “I,” he hisses, “am the Serpent in the Garden. The Fall of Man? Humanity exiled from Eden never to return? That was me. For six-thousand years I was Hell’s favourite demon. Don’t go thinking I am soft!”

Of course, it’s at this moment that Harry runs into the room, having just got back from Tadfield. “Dad! Dad! Is it true?”

Crowley draws his fangs back in so fast there’s an almost audible click. “Is what true?”

Harry is about to reply when he spots Raphael. Raphael stares at him, wide-eyed. Harry stares back, fascinated.

“Wow,” the nearly-thirteen-year-old breathes. “You really do look just like Dad! Weird!” Then Harry frowns. “Why don’t you have the cool eyes, though?”

Crowley flips from cursing Harry’s sense of timing to grinning widely. He and his angel have the Best Son. Objectively. It is fact.

Raphael makes a strangled noise. “Dad?” he manages to wheeze, still staring at Harry.

They had not mentioned Harry up until now as a precaution. Just in case Raphael was part of a plot against them. Watching Raphael almost choke in shock, Crowley is extra glad they’d not mentioned the young wizard.

He still has to squash the urge to snap ‘yes, this is our son’ in his most smug tone of voice. Crowley loves Harry and is not under any circumstances going to use him to score against the annoying stupid archangel who will be punted back to his own universe as soon as possible.

So instead he just waves, wiggling his fingers insouciantly at the Archangel. “That’s me.”

(It’s also Aziraphale, as well as James Potter, sadly deceased. People who start talking to Harry when he mentions his father soon learn to be alert for context clues.)

Raphael coughs, clearing his throat. “You’ve . . . adopted a child?” he says weakly.

“That’s right,” beams Aziraphale, who has just walked into the room behind Harry.

“Stole,” Crowley corrects. “We stole him. Evil, remember.”

“More like rescued,” says Harry, the little traitor. Raphael gives him a watery smile.

It turns out that (to Crowley’s great relief) Aziraphale has brought back a way to get Raphael home. Unfortunately, the ritual to do it takes hours to set up.

Raphael spends most of that time trying not to stare at Harry. He doesn’t really succeed.

Eventually, since they are now guaranteed to be archangel-free very soon, Crowley grudgingly explains how Harry came to be living with them.

Raphael is appalled.

“What do you mean, this headmaster knew and just left him with those people for ten years?” he hisses, his golden eyes narrow with outrage.

“He’d convinced himself that the blood ward was the only resort,” Aziraphale explains.

“Bullshit,” snaps Raphael and for a second Crowley almost likes him.

“Quite,” Aziraphale says. “We were less than happy with the state of affairs ourselves.”

“No kidding,” the archangel mutters.  Right,” he says decisively. “Is that circle ready to get me home? I need to take a quick trip to Surrey. Just to check on something.”

It is possible, Crowley thinks, as Raphael steps into the circle and disappears in a flash, that the archangel will find that there is no alternate Harry. Or perhaps there’s no alternate Voldemort. Or Dumbledore. Who knows?

***

Harry Potter, aged almost thirteen, ran from Number 4 Privet Drive, his suitcase and his owl’s travelling cage thumping beside him. His could feel his heart jumping in his chest. He had never been so angry in his life. Why had he listened to Aunt Marge? Why hadn’t he done the smart thing and excused himself to the loo when she’d started to talk?

What was he going to do now?

A noise and sudden light, caught his attention. It was a car, approaching fast. When it reached Harry, it skidded to a stop. He backed away, fumbling for his wand.

Then the passenger’s window rolled down, and a man’s head emerged. “Hello,” the man said in a cheerful voice. “Harry, isn’t it?”

Harry gasped and backed away further.

“Look,” said the man, “I don’t normally get involved in these things, but my friend here” – he waved vaguely towards the driver, a man with long waves of red hair- “seems to think you need help.” The man squinted at Harry. “And from the looks of it, he’s right.”

An enraged roar, familiar to Harry, echoed out of the night.

Uncle Vernon, furious and getting closer.

“Alright,” said the driver, speaking for the first time, “that’s enough of that.”

Harry heard the sound of clicking fingers and suddenly found himself in the car’s back seat with Hedwig’s cage next to him. His seatbelt had already fastened itself. The big black dog, which he’d almost tripped over earlier, was sitting on the car floor and looking extremely puzzled.

“Really dear,” said the man in the passenger seat to the driver as the car sped off, Vernon Dursley’s furious shouts receding into the distance “Did you have to bring the dog too?”

“Yep. He’s a good dog.”

Harry swallowed and finally managed to speak. “People will come looking for me,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

The man in the passenger seat smiled at him. “Well I do hope so, my boy.” He nodded towards his friend. “Raf here is quite keen to give Albus Dumbledore a piece of his mind.”