#cuz this prompt has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS

[fandomfloozy]

Classical Conditioning

Pairing: Kento Nanami x clingy!reader

C/W: reader's love language is physical touch, petnames (kento refers to reader as love, sweetheart, darling), sorcerer instructor!reader (students refer to reader as sensei), gn!reader, slightly nsfw, mdni

wc: 6.5k

~°•*~

You're on the way home from a particularly grueling training session with the second years. Your muscles burn, your limbs feel heavy, and you want nothing more than to treat yourself to a sweet dessert and head home.

Home to bed, home to sleep, home to Kento...

You weakly push open the door of the nearest cafe you could find and head in. No sooner does the entry bell chime that the exhaustion of the day dissipates from your aching body. From one moment to the next, you've gone from zombie walk to barely containing your excitement as you spot an unmistakably familiar head of blond hair.

You don't even hear the cashier greet you as you're halfway across the room, your feet moving on their own volition. The closer you get, the wider the stupid grin on your face grows until you've practically jumped your fiancée from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek against his.

"Kento!" You're nuzzling into him with your eyes closed, feeling yourself recharge to practically full capacity.

He doesn't seem the least bit startled or surprised to see you as he reaches a hand up to place on your arms. He moves his face away to get a good look at you. "Hi, sweetheart." He rubs his thumb on your forearm. "We were just talking about you."

In your haste, you failed to notice Takuma Ino sitting across from your lover.

You breathe out an awkward chortle, slinking your arms away from Kento and rounding his chair to pull out the one next to him. "All good things, I hope?" You slide a hand down his arm as you take a seat.

"Nothing but, sensei!"

"You're not one of my students, Takuma-kun." You give a semi-exasperated smile as you reach down the table to grab Kento's hand. "I already told you; you don't need to call me that."

Kento glances your way. "We were actually talking about potentially having him shadow you on one of your next missions." He gives a squeeze at your locked hands at the suggestion. "Have you give him a few pointers, show him how you do things."

"Oh!" You look over at Takuma. "I'm not sure what I could teach you that you don't know, you're plenty capable already!"

"But you're a first grade, sensei! I could pick up a lot from watching you work."

"You're pushing first grade yourself!" You argue.

"And you're pushing semi-special grade, darling," Kento chides, coolly sipping at his drink. "Don't sell yourself too short."

You frown. If you sold yourself too short, Kento upsold you too much.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you let out a hum as you think. "Well..."

You look up and Takuma is giving you the closest thing a young man his age can get to puppy eyes. And it's working.

You fiddle with Kento's fingers. "I trust you're capable enough not to slow me down..." Takuma visibly starts to brighten. "So I suppose it couldn't hurt to have you come on a mission and shadow me--"

"Yes!" Takuma pumps a fist and grabs your free hand to shake in earnest. "I won't slow you down at all, sensei! Promise!"

You giggle as he continues to shake. "There's no doubt in my mind."

Kento chuckles a bit and moves to stand up. "Now that that's squared away, why don't I get you something to eat?"

"Oh! Yes, please." You remember that the sweet treat you came for remains unordered. You lean away to let Kento stand. "You remember my order?"

"You need to ask?" He smiles and starts making his way towards the register. You hold his hand and then his fingers to the last moment as they slip away from you. You then watch him with your chin leaned into your hand and a dopey smile on your face as you watch him tell the cashier your order and pull out his wallet.

"Your two's relationship is so wild to me." Takuma's voice breaks you out of your lovelorn trance. You clear your throat.

"I guess it is atypical," you hum.

Romantic relationships in the jujutsu world, especially between jujutsu sorcerers, are few and far between. Not many sorcerers become old enough or secure enough to explore those kinds of relationships, let alone get to the point of planning to marry. You and Kento are lucky...

"Especially because you two are such an unlikely pair."

You hum in response again, before what he said kicks in. "Wait, what?"

Takuma responds casually while taking bites of his pastry. "Well, you know. Sensei and Nanami-san are so different. Don't get me wrong, he's a great man, but he's kind of a square."

You snort, recalling your jujutsu tech days with Kento. "He's always been a little standoffish. Been that way since we were students."

"It's just crazy. You're so bubbly and nice, and he's so..." He gestures vaguely. "I guess what they say is true: opposites attract."

"Well..." You fidget. "He is a little more reserved than I am, I suppose."

He takes in another fork full of his food. "I don't think I've ever even seen him hold your hand first."

That leaves you speechless.

Was that true? Has he never held your hand without you reaching out to grab his first? You've never thought about it before.

No, surely, it's just in public. Takuma has never seen Kento initiate because you're in public. Kento doesn't mind PDA, but you're just more prone to initiate in a public setting. Surely that's what he means.

Surely.

The weight of the day is suddenly returning to your body all at once.

Kento returns with your order, hand on the back of the chair. "Don't worry about the bill, it's covered." Takuma cheers to himself. Kento turns to face you. "Ready to head home? You look exhausted."

You nod and let out a little, "Mhm." You reach out a hand and Kento helps you up. Huh...

Initiated.

"We're heading out now. I'll see you tomorrow, Ino-kun."

"See you, Nanami-san. Sensei."

You offer a wave and lean into Kento's arm as you walk out of the cafe.

Initiated...

The ride home is quiet. You're on the verge of nodding off in the backseat as the driver takes you and Kento home. He holds onto your treat from the cafe, your craving now forgotten. Your hands are folded in your lap as you try to stay awake.

It's private enough in the car. Surely, he'll at least try to hold your hand...

You want him to hold your hand. Your thigh, your shoulders, your waist... Anything, really. But he could at least hold your hand.

Please, hold my hand...

The car coming to a stop wakes you. Your head lay in Kento's lap as he gently pets your head.

"We've arrived," the driver announces.

"Let's get you to the shower and then you can sleep all you want, alright?" Kento whispers as he tenderly lifts you from his lap and into a sitting position.

Falling asleep on him like that in front of the driver. You really forced his hand there. He had to hold you in his lap. He had no choice.

Initiated.

Arriving home is a bit relieving, though. It didn't get more private than that. More comfortable.

You were showering. He was undressing and going about his nightly routine. It didn't get more intimate than that.

So by the time you stepped out of the shower, water dripping off your form, you expected something--anything--as you creeped up behind him. Dressed in pajama pants and slippers, brushing his teeth in the mirror, he saw your naked form in his peripheral.

He smirked and spat out the toothpaste. "All done, beautiful?"

You nodded meekly, holding your arm behind your back. He turned to face you and you looked at him, alternating between looking at each eye.

Surely, he'd initiate. Nothing was stopping him. You'd initiated all day; it was his turn. Surely...

He reached out to you, and you waited with bated breath...

...as he reached behind you, grabbing the towel to place over your head and dry you off. He smiled softly. "Go put on some pajamas. I'll join you in bed soon."

He then wrapped the towel around your shoulders and turned to finish washing his face. You stood, dumbfounded for a moment, before scuttling to grab clothes to sleep in.

Maybe he just isn't in the mood tonight.

T-shirt.

I mean, you don't have sex every night.

Underwear.

But even when you do... does he initiate? You suddenly can't recall.

Something you do every night, though, is hold each other. That's a given. Cuddling is essential. It's how you get to sleep: relying on Kento's warmth to lull you into a sense of security and comfort.

You rush to the bed and under the covers. You wait.

Kento emerges from the bathroom, turning off lights on the way to you. Your anticipation is almost palpable at this point.

He situates himself in bed, sat up and looking down at you. "Long day, love?"

The top half of your face is peeking out from under the covers as you nod. "Very," you remark with a bit of a whine. "Glad to finally be home with you, Ken." You reach out to him instinctively then think better of it and stop short, your hand flopping on the bed with a thud.

You both look down at it for a beat.

He laughs. "Me too." He picks up your hand from the space between you and presses his lips to it, holding back a chuckle. "Sleep well. We've got an early start tomorrow."

He then drops your hand to turn off the bedside lamp. The darkness somehow makes the room feel significantly colder.

Kento shimmies down into the covers, lays down face-up, and closes his eyes. "Good night, love."

"Night, Ken," you whisper.

You close your eyes as you replay the exchange in your head.

Initiated.

~°•*~

You wake the next morning curled up by Kento's side. Through the course of the night, it seems like you ended up drifting closer to him. Your head is on his chest, your legs tangled up with his.

His form is the same as he fell asleep in. Supine. Completely relaxed.

You sigh. You tried to give him a wide berth last night and still ended up encroaching on his space.

You carefully untangle yourself from him. His alarm hasn't gone off yet and you don't want to wake him. Once out of bed, you pad down the hall and to the kitchen. With the extra time, you decide you might as well get some breakfast ready.

In the silence while you're cooking, however, you can't help the doubts that start creeping up in your mind... You probably make him uncomfortable with your constant need to be touching him in some way, shape, or form. You know physical touch isn't his love language, and yet you pester him constantly anyway, even in public. He didn't so much as touch you last night without you practically begging for him to. He probably only reciprocates out of obligation.

Maybe you should tone it down today.

You hear the rushing stream of water from down the hall as you finish plating the food. Seems like you have time to pack your lunches for the day as well.

As soon as that's done, you pick at your breakfast a bit. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is having adverse effects on your appetite. You sigh heavily to yourself and figure you should at the very least have a coffee.

You prep one for yourself and one for Kento, and as if on cue, he emerges from the bedroom. His hair is glistening from the water and product still drying in it. He's got his dress shirt on with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He looks absolutely heaven-sent.

"Ooh, thanks for breakfast, love." He smiles as he takes his seat at the table and you hand him his mug. Your fingers brush as he grabs it, and you yank your hand away a little too forcefully. Kento raises a quizzical brow at you. "Careful, I'm sure it's hot." He blows on it a bit before taking a sip.

You hide your hands behind your back to avoid potential slip-ups. You resigned yourself to no touching him unprompted today. You were going to stick to it.

"How did you sleep? I missed you when I woke up this morning."

"Slept fine." You grab your own mug to give your hands something to do. "Just woke up a bit early. Lunch is packed and everything."

"Oh, wow. That's quite proactive of you," he teases. Oh, you wanna kiss him. He digs into his plate and gives a nod to yours. "Aren't you having breakfast?"

You shake your head. He scrunches his brows and his eyes soften. God, you want to rub at the lines between his brows. "I should actually start getting dressed, if anything. I'll go do that now."

You set down your mug on the counter and make a beeline to your bedroom. This is harder than you thought. He's irresistible. How are you meant to make it through the day?

Ugh, but this is for his sake. You don't want to make him uncomfortable. Show restraint, you're an adult.

You get dressed, do your hair, brush your teeth, and take a look at the clock to make sure you're good on time before your driver arrives. Once you're sure you're presentable, you grab your things and start making your way to the front door to put on your shoes.

"Hey, sweetheart--"

You stop in your tracks and look over at Kento, who is standing by the coat rack, jacket in hand and a weird look on his face. His tie is still loose. That's unlike him.

He gives you a crooked smile. "You seem frazzled this morning. I'm sure you're in a rush, but do you mind helping me get my jacket on?"

You hesitate, then you walk over to him. You don't have to touch him while putting on his coat. This is fine. He's asking you to do this anyway. "I've got you, Ken." You take the jacket from his hands, and he turns around to give you full access.

Oh, his back looks so good under his dress shirt. One arm in. It'd be so easy to just run a hand over it and cop a feel... Other arm in. Has he always had such a biteable neck?

You don't get a chance to think about it before it's covered by the collar of his jacket. You clasp your hands together in front of you as he turns around.

"Thank you, darling."

He looks you in the eye and you can't help your gaze from drifting down to his lips. You should kiss him. You want to kiss him. But he isn't leaning in. He's not initiating. You shouldn't. But you can't help gravitating towards him when he looks at you like that with so much love in his eyes and--

You lean in and tighten his tie up to the collar of his shirt.

He looks down in surprise. "Oh! Heh, thank you again." He lets out a chuckle.

You smile. "Anytime." Success. You restrained yourself. That was a close one.

Your phone chimes and you look down. "My driver's here. I'm heading out now." You turn around and put on your shoes at the doorstep. You open the door and spare a glance back at Kento, who is still standing right where you left him. "I'll see you tonight. Have a good day. Love you!"

"Love you, too..." He trails and adjusts his tie with one hand while the other waves a goodbye.

You give him a quick wave back and close the door behind you.

Phew, this shouldn't be that hard.

~°•*~

It's really not.

That hard, that is.

You spent the car ride to the school congratulating yourself on a job well done, coasting off the high of a win. By the time you arrived in the classroom, the whole ordeal took a backseat in your mind. As it stands, Maki, Toge, and Panda are enough of a handful in their own right.

You enter and all of your students seem to be here, sans Yuta. You close the sliding door and smile before walking to the front. "Alright, be seated," you announce as you set your things down. "Pop quiz today, so notes away and pencils out, please."

Your students' audible groans fill the mostly empty room.

"That's too cruel, sensei," Panda whines.

"Mustard leaf."

"Yeah, you didn't even prepare us for this," Maki complains.

The chorus of complaints keep ringing out. You sigh at the lack of order. You're not exactly in the mood with only your morning coffee sitting in your stomach, but you can't exactly blame them when it's so early in the morning and it's the last day of the week. However, that doesn't stop you from taking a deep breath and bringing your hands together in a forceful clap.

The sound reverberates through the floorboards and up the walls. Your students freeze.

The juxtaposition of your gentle smile and the tilt of your head lend to the immediate quiet. "I thought I asked you all very nicely to put your notes away and take a pencil out. I must have imagined the idle chatter, hm?"

They all sit up straight, desks cleared, pencil in hand. "Yes, sensei!"

A handful indeed.

It's what you need today, though. While Kento's off working, you're busy with the second years. There's no temptation this way. Not seeing him for the better part of the day helps. The rapid pace of training and lessons keeps you distracted... for the most part.

That is until, without warning, he's walking onto the training field where you're leading your class through combat drills. He has one Yuuji Itadori in tow, skipping along beside him.

You're kind of geeking, but you try not to let it show. This is Round 2. Second test of the day. You're in public this time. Your students are around. You can hold back.

You greet him with a smile. "You're back early. How did it go?"

Kento rolls the shoulder on his dominant side out. "It went well, all things considered." He looks a bit disheveled.

"It was so cool!" Yuuji cuts in. "Nanamin's cursed technique is always amazing to watch!"

You feel a swell of pride at that. Kento is very talented, you're glad Yuuji gets to learn from him. "How did you do today, Yuu-kun?"

"I think I did really well--"

"His form is still sloppy. He needs to get a better grasp on real-time battle strategy." Now that he's closer to you, you notice Kento's hair seems out of sorts. You want to run your fingers through it and fix it a bit...

"I thought I did a lot better today," Yuuji pouts. He leans his head onto the front of your shoulder and whines lowly so only you can hear. "Nanamin's been kinda mean today, sensei."

You laugh and wrap one arm around Yuuji, using the other to rub at his hair comfortingly. "He really wants you to improve. I'm sure it's nothing personal, Yuu-kun," you coo.

"I'll watch your students for you." You don't get a good look at Kento's face as he is already briskly making his way to where your kids are training.

Now that you mention it, that was a bit snappy. You wonder if something happened to Kento while he was out today.

You hum. You release Yuuji from your hold. "Why don't you tell me more about how today went?"

"Well." Yuuji starts prattling on about how he met with Gojo this morning who then let him know Kento would be instructing him again today, so they headed off to meet him, and Kento had seemed out of it this morning to begin with. Anyway, they went to exorcise some curses, but Kento seemed to be a little more aggressive with them today than usual. He mentioned how Kento had scolded him sternly more than a few times while they were working, but once they finished Kento still seemed unsatisfied and kept grumbling about this and that, stuff Yuuji couldn't make out. "And once we were done, I asked Nanamin if we could eat something and he said okay, but he just wanted to stop by here first to 'Check on the state of the instruction you students are being provided.' Whatever that means."

Huh. You should've guessed Gojo was at the source of this. He was probably pestering Kento into this morning. On top of that, Kento seems to be dissatisfied with how Gojo is teaching the first years and came to analyze the situation.

No wonder he seems a bit touchy.

Oh, Yuuji is still speaking to you.

"Sounds like a lot." You nod along to whatever he started talking about next. "I'm sure you and Kento had a long morning, Yuu-kun. How's about you take him to find Gojo-san and the other first years, okay?" You start guiding Yuuji back across the field to Kento.

It gives you pause to find that your second years are out of breath and hands-on-knees by the time you get back. You couldn't have been talking with Yuuji for more than a few minutes, what happened in that time?

"Really putting them through their paces there, huh, Ken?" You breathe out a laugh nervously. Kento is kind of scary when Gojo gets him riled up.

"They can handle this much," is all Kento offers, standing cross-armed, facing you students.

You pause. Your brows scrunch together in worry. "Okay, guys. Water break! Be back here in five minutes."

Your students let out a sigh of relief as they stagger towards the sidelines for some reprieve. Yuuji trails a safe distance behind you as you round Kento to face him fully. You soften your eyes as you meet his own, shielded from you by his round goggle sunglasses.

"Are you alright?"

The scrunch in his brow relaxes a bit at your scrutiny. "Yes, darling, I'm fine--"

"Are you sure?" You press. You take him in a bit more. His stance is relaxing some more. "Your hair's all fussed," you tease with a snort.

He looks at you. You look at him. You're mirroring his arm-crossed stance. You don't move to fuss over him, especially if it'll just make him more uncomfortable in this state, but you expect him to at least run a hand through his hair himself.

"Are you sure you're alri--"

"Yes, everything's fine. Yuuji, let's head over the first year classroom." He's already leaving before you can protest.

"Aww, but I thought we were going to eat first." Yuuji jogs to catch up with Kento and the two talk back and forth until their chatter becomes too quiet for you to hear.

You're left kind of unnerved by how he left things. Kento isn't one to beat around the bush. He'll usually tell you what's making him upset without mincing his words, especially when it comes to venting about Gojo. This recent transgression must have bothered him something fierce.

"Lover's quarrel?" You hear Maki comment behind you. You turn and realize all of your students have gathered to watch you watch your fiancée and Yuuji walk away.

"Pfft, no. Nothing that dramatic." You wave off their concern, or lack thereof. They're fishing for gossip, and you know it.

"Seemed like something fishy was going on between you twooooo," Panda singsongs.

"Salmon."

"Hey, do you want to waste the last..." You check your watch. "Two minutes of your water break yapping? 'Cause you're going to need it for the next set."

"No, sensei!" They scatter off to finish drinking at their jugs.

"Mhm, that's what I thought," you declare to yourself.

You want to bask in this recent victory. You staved off another round of the grabby hands again, after all. But something about this win just doesn't sit right with you. You don't feel good as long as you know something is eating at Kento this much...

Hopefully he works out whatever he and Gojo have going on.

~°•*~

The rest of the day is a blur. Your students are eager to get a start on their weekend or on missions, so as soon as it's time to dismiss them, they are out the door.

No new assignments were offered to you as the day went on, and thankfully, it seems like there aren't any pressing matters for you to attend to with the higher ups. By all accounts, you're free, so you grab your things and make way out the door and to the campus gates.

You haven't had a proper meal all day, so you start contemplating what you could pick up on your way home. You had enough ingredients to make a big dinner tonight. Maybe a quick snack would be enough to stave off the hunger until then.

As you continue to ponder your options, who do you run into but Satoru Gojo himself.

He spots you before you can think of turning tail to avoid him.

"If it isn't my lovely coworker and counterpart!" He offers a childlike grin and waves as his lithe form approaches you. "How is the beloved second-year sensei today?"

"Just fine," you respond, walking past him without a second glance.

He doesn't miss a beat as he trails behind you and continues chatting. "Aww, c'mon. Give me more than that. I feel like I barely get to see you."

You sigh. "That's on purpose, Gojo-san."

He feigns offense, dramatically pressing a hand to his forehead. "You wound me. We've known each other for years. You can call me senpai when we're not around the students, or at the very least drop the honorifics."

"Would you rather I referred to you as 'hey, you,' or maybe as 'trash-kun'?" You tease. You didn't hate Gojo, per se. You just found him a mite unbearable sometimes.

"'Gojo-san' is fine, then..." He pouts. "You and Nanami are just the same." He brightens as he seems to remember something. "Speaking of! I got to speak to our resident ex-salaryman today! He was telling me all about how you--"

"How he thinks you're slacking on training the first years?" You interrupt.

"What? No! I'll have you know I am doing an amazing job, especially with Megumi and Yuuji. As a matter of fact, they're..."

You tune him out for the rest of the walk to the exit. The thought of Gojo defending himself in the face of a scolding Kento was amusing enough to get you through the rest of the walk out. At the gates, you find your driver waiting for you, the car idling and primed to take you far away from the school and this conversation.

"As much as I love our talks." You turn to look at Gojo with thinly veiled annoyance. "I should be getting home for the day, Gojo-san." Before you can reach for the door yourself, Gojo does it for you. He opens it widely and with a flourish, offering his hand to help you in.

"But of course, sorry to keep you. Get home safe. Get rested. I'm sure next week will be another doozy."

You accept his hand and roll your eyes half-heartedly as he goes on and on. You can't help the small smile on your face as you make your way into the car, though.

As soon as you're securely inside, Gojo peers in and looks you in the eye. "But if I could offer you a bit of advice, my dear kohai." His tone comes across a bit more serious. You attention falls securely on him at that. "I'd go about talking to our friend Nanami over... stimulus control."

Huh?

You give Gojo a look that you hope conveys your confusion, but any note of seriousness in his demeanor leaves him as fast as it came. He grins widely at you and closes the door before you have the chance to question him further. As soon as the door closes, the driver pulls off and Gojo becomes but a shrinking figure in the rear window.

Well, that was cryptic.

What the fuck did he mean "stimulus control"?

You don't think much of it after a while. Gojo is infamously too unserious for his own good. It would be a waste of brain power to read too much into what could very well just be him messing with you, so you don't. What you do continue pondering is what you could do for dinner.

By the time you get home, you've decided on snacking on yesterday's treat while cooking up a suitable feast to make up for missing breakfast. And to congratulate you on a job well done today.

You are in high spirits as you eat and cook at the same time. You could get used to this! Restraining yourself was far easier than you had anticipated. What had seemed like an impossible task this morning didn't seem so bad in hindsight. Maybe every day could be like this...

With no touching Kento at all...

And him not initiating any physical contact with you... at all.

This experience had really put Takuma's observation to the test, hadn't it? Kento really doesn't initiate physical affection with you at all, does he?

Your mood sours a bit.

But you attempt to pull yourself out of it just as quickly. He has other methods of showing he loves you. He shows you he loves you every day. Constant messages checking on how you're doing. Doing the chores whenever you're far too drained. Sitting down to watch your favorite show with you. Bringing back trinkets from missions outside the city that made him think of you. Not to mention that he says he loves you outright every day without fail.

Kento is an intensely loving man, and if you only had to sacrifice a bit of hugging and squeezing for his sake, that was completely fine with you. He just wasn't the type to receive love that way and that's okay.

That's fine.

There's a jingle of keys in the lock of the front door just as you're finishing up the last dish of tonight's spread. You turn off the stove and start transferring to a serving dish as Kento appears in view, dropping his briefcase and shedding his jacket at the front.

"Ken! You're home!" You turn to place the pot and spoon in your hands in the sink. "Dinner's just about ready, just gotta set the table and everything." You reach to grab a towel and wipe your hands as you turn around to face him. "Unless this is a have-dinner-standing-up-at-the-kitchen-island sort of da--"

Kento leaning on the kitchen island with a hand on his hip gives you pause. His head is hanging low as he reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

You crane your neck to look him in the eye. "Long day?"

He sighs. "Like you wouldn't believe." He looks up at you, facing you head-on. An uncomfortable silence fills the space between you. He doesn't elaborate.

You scratch your head. "Well, at least dinner's ready!" You gesture to the courses for the meal. "One less thing to worry about."

"Mhm." He nods. You're not sure with the tinted lenses, but it almost seems like Kento is looking at you... expectantly? You don't know what to say. The silence stretches on. You twist at the towel in your hands.

You tilt your head and press your lips in a thin line. "You seem stressed."

He surprises you by letting out a dry chuckle and turning away. He takes off his goggles and places them on the counter. He runs a hand down his face as he leans on the other.

"Kento..." You approach him cautiously. You're not sure what to do. Usually you'd rub at his back, but you're not sure that's the right thing to do here. "If this is about the Gojo thing--"

"Gojo?" You're taken aback as he stands at full height and throws his hands up. He starts pacing and grumbles to himself, "Of all the things... Had to sit there and talk to Gojo about this, of all the people..."

"Are you alright?"

"Are you alright??" He turns quickly and faces you.

The outburst has you dropping the towel and bumping into the sink. You didn't realize you'd stepped back so far. Kento's right there with you, though. There's nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for him but to press a hand on either side of you, caging you in.

"Have I done something to upset you?" His bare eyes look into yours solemnly, almost pained.

You alternate between looking at both of his eyes for a moment. In your surprise at the seriousness of this exchange, laughter is suddenly bubbling up in your chest and bursts out before you can stop it. "What? Haha!"

Your fit of giggles seems to take Kento aback. He blinks. "Darling, I'm serious."

You try to stifle your laughter with the back of your hand. "Ken, honey, what do you mean?" You shake your head. "You haven't done anything to upset me. What made you think that?"

The warmth of a gentle hand on your cheek shocks you out of the hilarity of the moment.

Initiated.

Kento doesn't give you any choice but to look him in the eye. "I had to pull you in so you'd sleep in my arms last night." He emphasizes his words with a stroke of his thumb on the apple of your cheek. "I woke up without you this morning. You left today without a send-off kiss. God, I stopped by while you worked and didn't even fix my own appearance for the chance that you'd run your hands through my hair." Kento grows progressively more distressed as he speaks. You're speechless. "You haven't so much as brushed a hand against me all day. Have I done something that made you... uncomfortable with me?"

"Oh..." In the blink of an eye, all of the restraint you'd brute force trained into your disposition today is thrown out the window. "Oh, Kento." You reach up to place both hands on either side of his face. "You could never make me feel uncomfortable with you." You reach around his neck and squeeze him into you, rubbing your head into his cheek comfortingly. "The whole reason I pulled back today was because I thought I was making you uncomfortable."

"What?" He pulls away to look at you, placing his hands squarely on your shoulders, not moving them away. "What could possibly make you think that you make me uncomfortable?"

"Well..." You look down at your hands as they fiddle with his tie and dress shirt. "You have to admit the way I'm constantly touching and hugging and kissing you is a bit excessive, no?"

"No, actually. I don't have to admit that because it's not true. Look at me."

You peer at him through your eyelashes.

"Sweetheart, what made you feel this way?"

You glance away.

"Love, look at me."

You do. He's making full eye contact with you. Patiently waiting.

"Someone might have..." You trail off a bit. "Offhandedly pointed out...." Man, this is hard to admit now. "That you never hold my hand first?"

Kento blinks. Then blinks a few more times. "Surely, that's not true. Who told you that?"

"That's beside the point," you blurt. "The important thing is that that's what this whole thing was. Me making an effort to not touch you as much, only if you initiated first. And then it sort of turned out to also be a ploy to see if you'd even initiate at all... Which you didn't..."

Kento looks appalled.

"I just got really in my head about it!" You ramble on. "And then a little insecure. And then I was really just doing this all for your sake because I sort of got it in my head that you didn't like PDA--or physical affection in general--at all, because you never initiate any of it! And then I thought that maybe I was being too much and--"

In your panic, you failed to notice Kento slinking his hands down to your hips, towards the hem of your shirt. The feeling of the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your stomach makes you jump a bit. "How could you ever think you're too much..." His palms are warm as they join his fingertips. He's moved his head to lean beside yours and speaks lowly into the shell of your ear. His hands start wandering farther up to your bare waist. Unfettered. "When I can't get enough of you?"

You squirm in his grasp. "Kento..." you breathe. You're not used to him taking initiative like this.

"I'm sorry I got so used to receiving your affection without any effort on my part." He glides his nose from your ear down your neck. "I got so used to having your hands on me without trying-" He presses a kiss at your pulse point. You gasp. "That I made a real ass of myself as soon as you took that away." One of his hands moves from your waist to your bare spine. It makes you shiver and arch forward. "I took you for granted and for that I apologize."

Your breathing is picking up. "It's okay, Ken," you say unevenly.

Kento shakes his head. "No, it's not." He pulls back just enough so that he's practically nose to nose with you. "I love you very much. Let me be sorry." He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed.

You nod against him. "Okay."

"Surely," he continues. "I have to show you just how sorry I am." The sideways smile he gives you carries mischief. Your eyes widen before he leans down. You let out a yelp as he lifts you off the ground and onto the counter.

He sits between your legs, and you hold him by the neck as you try to keep your breath even. "The food'll get cold."

"You'll hear no complaints from me."

You giggle as he leans on one of his hands to smash his lips into yours and uses the other to start loosening his tie.

This is so unlike him, and you can't help thinking that you should deprive him of your touch more often just to illicit this response.

Somehow that reminds you of a certain someone's advice and you end up smiling deeper into the kiss.

"What?" Kento's laugh mixes with yours in the space between you.

You snort at the thought. "I can't believe I Pavlov'd you into expecting hugs and kisses from me."

"Oh, sweetheart." He leans down and gives your neck a playful nip. "You're one bell I'll just about always salivate for."

That makes you snicker and shriek even more as Kento continues trailing kisses down your neck and squeezing and touching wherever his hands can find purchase.

Dork.

For a love language Kento didn't start off with when you met him, physical touch sure seems to be something he can't go without. And that's all your influence.

You guess what they say is true, to be loved is to be changed.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via darkbluepassion01

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[sxtvrns]

unspoken

🎶 now playing: hi - laufey

P: Ryōhei Arisu x Fem!Reader

S: You couldn’t leave the poor man laying on the street. He couldn’t help falling for the girl who was always by his side.

W: aib spoilers, cursing, alludes to sexual content, beach arc, arisu a bit ooc (downbad), mentions of death, violence

N: Y/N is your first name, L/N is your last name. this has been sitting in my drafts for too long also i havent even finished the series yet i left off on s2 ep5 but i practically know the rest of the plot cuz i got fuckin spoiled… i started this like months ago now im just trying to make sense of the plot anyways hot emo gamer nerd man woopwoop sexy ahh mf i love kento yamazaki

please interact if you enjoy!

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Yuzu walks beside you with the rabbit she just hunted in a plastic bag, a confident strut in her step. “We should get your clothes washed. Then again, I don’t know if you have any other clothes to wear.” She says, noticing the stains and dirt on your attire from previous games. You point to a shopping mall down the street you just walked.

She sighs. “I guess you could loot the place. Then we can wash your clothes.” You begin to get excited until she puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll go by yourself, though. You know the way back by heart.” You freeze up, complying with her terms considering that she was right. It wasn’t like you needed someone to nanny you 24/7, you were just scared of the thought that something could happen while Yuzu didn’t know.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You’re strong and have the ears of a bat.” She pats your shoulder, the compliment you found strange but accepted anyways. You notice a lump of clothes and a hand on the street, noticing it’s another person after approaching closer.

You jog over to them, sitting on your knees in order to get a good look at the stranger’s face. You move his hand, his arm ending up on your legs. You end up nearly laying down with him while trying to get your head lined up with his, your fingers moving his hair out of the way to see his face more clearly.

His face and hands are tainted and covered in dirt and dust, including his clothes and shoes. His eyes are half open, yet they fully notice you when Yuzu calls your name. “Y/N! What are you doing?” She begins to walk over, prompting you to turn back to the man. You stutter out a few words when you realize he notices you there. “…you… okay?”

He’s alive, that’s for sure. You can hear his soft breathing, and his arm tensed up. “I wanna die here.” He softly speaks, the sudden request surprising you before you can say anything. Yuzu catches up, standing behind you, her shadow looming over the man. She watches you play with the man’s fingers, observing the cuts and dirt in the crevices of the skin and under his nails.

“Is he alive?” She asks. You nod, wondering what to do. You don’t want to leave him there, but you knew that Yuzu wouldn’t just let someone into your bunker unless she was the one to bring them in. This guy seemed different, though. What had he gone through in order for him to want to starve himself on the street? “We have to go. It’s gonna get dark soon.”

You let the man’s hand rest on the ground as you get up, looking behind you occasionally to see his figure slowly turn into a small speck the further you walk away. “Why’d you stop for him? You wouldn’t do that for anyone else.” She was right, but you didn’t know if she’d believe your answer. “He feels guilty.” Those were the words you were looking for.

“Even so, wouldn’t anyone be full of guilt to lay on the road like that?”

You point at him. “Wants to die.”

Yuzu just nods as her head slowly turns to face the road in front of her.

“Fine then. We’ll just leave him.” You want to protest, but can’t seem to say anything. To Yuzu, you just can’t get the words out at all. She was so strong; her presence alone intimidated you. You always watched yourself around her, considering that you had to learn from her and you didn’t want to humiliate yourself.

You’ve always had a hard time talking to people. Was it the fact you were bullied for merely speaking, raising a hand up to answer in class, to have a normal conversation with anyone? Yes. Slowly, day after day, you stopped talking. No one noticed, anyways, so it didn’t matter. You’ve been to therapy for it, but when you tried to talk, it was hard to put how you felt into words.

The sentences formed, but you couldn’t say anything out loud.

You usually spoke in smaller sentences, nothing detailed but enough for others to understand, which wasn’t useful living in a world where detail is key. If you were given the chance, you’d simply point and finish your sentence from there. Yuzu’s trying to help you through it, but she states that going out to get paper is a waste of time. She’s smart enough to put the pieces together through your phrases, figuring out why you rarely spoke.

“You’ll go out tomorrow. We’re running low on fuel for the gas stove and we need batteries. You can get anything else you need while you’re there.” She says, not really giving you much of a choice. It’ll be fine, right? Low chance of you ever running into someone while you’re… alone.

You point to your shirt with small stains on it. “New clothes.” Yuzu also looks at your shirt, sighing. “You can get new clothes, too. Speaking of which, can you also get soap?” You try to visualize what it would look like to carry all those things in your hands. “Too much. I’ll drop it.” You say, holding your arms out in front of you. “I can get you a bag.”

You hated how fragile plastic bags were, how easily they’d tear and rip, especially the handles. If something was too heavy, the pressure would go onto your fingers, and it hurts more than it looks. You shake your head no, trailing behind Yuzu. “Geez, you’re so stubborn. Might as well get a reusable bag while you’re at it.”

The list of things never ends.

“I can do… two trips.” You hold up two fingers, your friend letting out a huff. “If that’s alright with you, I suppose. Our visas are still good for a few more days, then we’ll have to play another game. So be careful tomorrow; don’t get hurt.” Yuzu warns. You nod profusely, her patting your back.

The first trip there you’d gotten the gas and batteries and a few extra flashlights just in case, snagging a reusable bag to make the trip easier. You always snagged reusable bags, but for some reason they always went missing more often than Yuzu’s plastic ones.

On the way back, when you didn’t stare at the sky or the garbage on the street, you noticed the guy still laying on the street in nearly the exact same position. You walked over carefully, kneeling down again and moving his hair out of his face. He was still breathing, but was sleeping soundly on the cement. The air that exhaled through his nose brushed against your arm, startling you a bit, but you stopped yourself from nearly flinching too hard and waking him up.

That day, you left him be.

The next day, it rained.

Your bag had a zipper, so thank god that your new clothes didn’t get soaked that day. Even with your umbrella, the wind would’ve blown the rain onto your shirts and bottoms. You nearly ran home, until the sight of the same man still laying on the street in the pouring rain stops you. It could just be the horrible conditions, or the thought of his clothes getting drenched bothering you so much, but you run over and hold the umbrella above both your heads.

Your first thought was to carry him bridal style, but then you’d have to ditch the umbrella, which you obviously weren’t gonna do. Instead, you tap his shoulder, and when he doesn’t respond, you tap his cheek. He blinks a few times, and that’s all you need to help him up and support him with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He still slouches, head down, but as long as he didn’t fall asleep on the way there, he’d be fine.

You slide open the warehouse curtain, Yuzu gawking at the sight of you supporting another person. “Close it.” You tell her. She gets up and runs past you, you remembering you had to climb a ladder to get up. Yuzu climbs up, helping you carry him to the elevated surface, letting you set the man down on your old cardboard bed. You take off his jacket, setting it aside while you take your shirt off and dry him as best you can with it. Even while you’re doing this, he doesn’t seem to wake up. His eyes remain half open the entire time until he’s fully laid down, them closing shut.

You zip up your outer jacket, being met with Yuzu looming over you. You begin to open the bag with excitement before she drags you to the opposite side of the site. “What were you thinking? Bringing him here?”

“3 days. He slept on the street for 3 days.”

“Okay, but still. You need to be careful.”

“He was giving up. I didn’t like that.”

“So what if you didn’t like that? If he wants to die, he’ll die.”

“I’ve seen death before. He will regret it.” Your words come together slowly, yet you still feel frustrated as you couldn’t say it how you wanted to. “You’ve been like him before. You should understand.” You add, walking back to the unconscious man. You lay down beside him, staring at his face.

He’s ridden with dirt and dust, and he smelled of it too, with a hint of blood and the tiniest smidge of something botanical. His clothes were soaked and they were soaking the cardboard beneath him. There was probably still some lying around this place anyways.

The first time you saw him on the street, he looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Now that he’s in your base, giving you the ability to stare at him for the next 10 minutes, you realize that this was the man that saved you in his first game that he played.

Yuzu looks at you, laying on the bare concrete ground after you sacrificed your former makeshift cardboard mattress for the stranger that laid next to you. “Y/N.” You don’t move, laying still beside the man. She sees your fingers brush his hair out of his eyes, his face fully visible. “I’m sorry. Come help with dinner.” You shift, then finally get up and join her, looming over her workspace and watching her prepare rice.

“I got an extra knife for you.” She hands you a smaller knife and a cutting board, along with some vegetables that looked like they were just washed. You place them down on the cutting board, frozen and lost in space. “You don’t want him to starve, do you?” Yuzu speaks up, snapping you out of it as you begin to help.

“You were right.” She says, the lack of context clues only making you confused. “I was like him. I did nothing. I felt like dying. But I’m here now.” She suddenly stops what she’s doing, looking at you. “I’m sorry. You did something good, but I still don’t trust him.” You nod.

You understood why she was skeptical of him. Something in you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him behind.

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“Are you really just gonna stay with him until he wakes up?”

You sat down by the man a while ago, noticing he turned and laid face up while you were making food with Yuzu. She’s currently eating at your one-person makeshift table, staring at you from there. You shrug, eating from your own smaller canister. The bowls you found came in packs of four, which was convenient if he was going to wake up and eat.

It’s nothing but the light of the lamp on the desk and the skylight above that helps you see throughout your small living space. Yuzu is about to finish her food while you sit by the stranger, getting up to put your bowl away after finishing your food.

“He’s awake.” Yuzu says, your eyes shifting to the sight of him blinking. You get a clean spoon and cup and scoop a serving into the bowl you used, pouring water into the cup. His eyes meet yours, freezing you in place for a moment before you remembered who the food in your hands was for. You set the bowl and cup down next to him before sitting down by him again. His eyes follow you the entire time.

“Why did you save me?” He asks. You say nothing but stare at him, his eyes focused on the ceiling now. “You want to live.” You reply. He merely scoffs with a sigh. “But I don’t deserve to live anymore.” Your heart aches as he begins to cry, but as he speaks, you realize you’ve been in his shoes before.

“We know how you feel.” You say, your hand tucking his hair behind his ear. “How you feel… we have felt it before.” You look over at Yuzu, and she smiles with a nod, meaning you’ve explained it better. “I saw my mom die while I lived. After that, I tried to die. I saw death for a second, but survived. Death isn’t pretty. It is darkness. It is nothing.” Yuzu stares at you with wide eyes as you try to speak. Your hand trembles and pauses while your fingers brush through his hair. “Your friends want you to live, so live. You will die sometime; a game, your visa, but don’t force it. For now, eat while you are still alive.”

He stares at you, who sits in front of him with her fingers brushing his hair. He simply lays there, staring at the bowl of food. “Y/N, just let him be. He’ll eat it when he needs to.” Yuzu says, your hand reluctantly moving away from his head. You turn off the lights before joining her in the tent, laying next to her. Meanwhile, the man lays on the cardboard, exhausted, but wondering what you meant by all that and why you played with his hair.

He distinctly remembers you, getting on your knees to check him on the road. You carried him when taking him to the warehouse, and he could’ve sworn he’s seen you in a game before. What did you mean when you said that you’ve seen death? Did you reincarnate or something?

He was too tired to think about it.

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You wake up, Yuzu not beside you and light shining through the fabric of the tent, meaning she’d gotten up earlier than you to warm up. You had less of an athletic prowess than Yuzu did, so you normally stayed behind whenever she went for her morning jog.

Leaving the tent, you first notice the empty bowl that held only a seed by the man’s head. With the sunlight shining bright through the windows, you wonder if he is awake or not. “Wake up. We’re playing today.” You say, the man lying still, nearly convincing you he was still asleep. You fill up a water bottle, waiting for him to respond but getting nothing. “Do you remember the one game?” You ask, knowing he won’t respond.

“Live or Die.” The name brings back painful memories of his friends, one of them coming out with a burnt leg. “You saved me there. I would have… died at the one door.”

“One door?”

“The door after the girl died.”

“The second one?” That’s the word you were looking for. You nod. “I didn’t wanna die then. I didn’t want anyone to end up like the high schooler.” He adds. You sit down in the same spot again. You take one of his hands, holding it, your fingers gently playing with his palm. “You saved Yuzu. She would not be alive if you did not scream.”

“Were you there?” He asks. You shake your head. “She told me.” You respond with a sigh. “I… don’t want you to die. Let us save you.” You loosen your grip nearly to the point where you let go of his hand. He slowly but surely sits up, back against the boxes. He takes a good look at you, your hair tucked behind your ears and eyes moving like they’re looking for something.

“Why do you talk like that?” His full stare intimidates you, given this is the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes when they aren’t closed or covered by his hair. You tilt your head, confused. “Your sentences seem… broken.”

You play with your fingers, staring at his hand and wish you were playing with it. “It is hard for me to talk. I was laughed at. Words are in my head… but they don’t come out.” You summarize, hoping he’d understand. He nods slightly, noticing your friend come back from who knows where. She tosses something up before climbing the ladder. “I got a tent for him. But no mattress yet. How long have you been awake? Did you stretch yet?”

You shake your head, noticing Yuzu’s eyes drifting over to the man. “Come with us?” You ask, holding your hand out for him to take. He accepts, being pulled up onto his feet. “Okay?” You check in while he nods. You offer him some water, nearly finishing your whole bottle. You take him by the wrist, descending down the ladder and pulling him with you to the gate.

“Let’s go.”

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Your fingers hold onto the sleeve of the man’s jacket gently as you walk into the highway tunnel. In his first game, he never introduced himself to you, and you never saw his name on his phone screen, though you remembered his friends constantly screaming his name after each door. He later introduced himself as ‘Arisu’, Yuzu seeming to know his name already before you did.

The walk is long to the registration, Yuzu sighting a bus heavily graffitied a bit in. Your hand grips onto his arm, Arisu noticing. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Nervous. Always nervous… for new games.” You explain, hoping he’d understand.

You had a bad habit of holding onto people before entering registration. Before you met Yuzu, everyone you accidentally latched onto cursed at you, or shook you off their arm, which was understandable. No one likes a stranger randomly holding onto their arm out of nowhere. You just hated the fact it was your first instinct. When Yuzu came along, she was the first person to listen—to understand.

But Arisu was content with it. He didn’t swat you off, or stare at you weirdly. He simply let you be, holding onto his arm like a koala hugging a branch. You worried that your grip was too tight or that he could feel you shake, but he didn’t seem to react, so those worries went away eventually. You clung onto him the moment you stepped into the bus, taking one of the phones before noticing there were three other guys seated in the back.

They’ve played their last few games together, however, one of them was visibly injured. In a world like this, injury holds you back from everything, which puts you at risk of death. You felt sympathy for the man, but also felt intimidated by him and his friends given that they were staring at the three of you intently.

Arisu picks up his phone, looking at the names of the participants, landing on yours.

L/N Y/N

“Ryō…hei?” You stutter, looking at your phone. Arisu looks down at you, a bit confused. “Y/N calls people by their first name. Sometimes.” Yuzu explains, which cleared some things up, but it didn’t help a whole bunch. “Can I call you that?” You ask. “Can you call me Ryō?” He restates your question, being followed by an eager nod from you. He simply shrugs and nods, and you’re glad he doesn’t mind.

One of the men huffs. “Your girlfriend?” He gestures to you, making you let go of Ryō’s sleeve and hide behind him. He shakes his head. “We just met today. Yesterday. A previous game.” His idiocy makes Yuzu shake her head while you try to hold in your laughs from behind. However, the man doesn’t seem all too convinced. “Whatever you say.”

The phone chime sounds, the robotic voice drawing attention to them.

Registration is now closed. The game is about to commence.

Difficulty: Four of Clubs

This was a team game. Your favourite kind.

There are a total of six participants.

Game: Distance

Rule: Endure the trial while striving for the goal within the time limit.

Clear condition: Safely attain the goal.

The game will now commence. 120 minutes remaining.

You look out the driver’s window, the tunnel seeming like it goes on forever. Your eyes are drawn to the dashboard of the bus, specifically the fuel. “It’s empty. Can’t drive.” You say. “Looks like we’ll have to run.” Yuzu says, Ryō’s eyes landing on the injured man in the back. “What about Takuma?”

You’re lost in thought for a moment, not wanting to die but also not wanting to leave the man behind. “All of you, run. I’ll stay with Takuma.” Yuzu and Ryō look at you as if you’ve said something stupid. “What? Y/N, we have to run.”

“We will try to do something. If I die, I die. I am okay with that. I don’t want to leave ‘Kuma alone. I will take care of him.” Yuzu suddenly hugs you, which catches you off guard. She pulls away, her face with a trace of disdain as she walks off, along with the two men that sat in the back. Before Ryō can leave, you grab his hand. Your thumbs rest in his palm before you warn him. “Don’t worry. We will be okay. You have to be careful.” He squeezes your hand, visibly doubtful as he walks off the bus to join the other three outside.

You watch from the window as they all run off, seemingly shrinking as they get farther away. You sit in the back, closer to the man. “Kuma? Is that your name for me?” He asks lazily, relaxing against his seat. “Yeah. Sorry.” You suddenly become timid at the sound of him laughing. “Don’t be. It’s cute.”

“Are you… giving up?” You ask, wondering how he’s so unfazed. “I am still worried. But even though we aren’t running, I feel as though we’ve already won.” He looks up at you and your solemn face. “We can’t do anything about it now, can we? I know you wanted to help me, but is there really anything we can do?”

“I don’t want to die. I know you don’t either. But I’m injured, and the only thing that can heal that is time. There isn’t enough time in this game to go away. So I understand what you’re saying. If we die, we die.” He waits for you to say something, looking at you when you stay silent. “What’s on your mind?”

“The… difficulty… is low. Why are they running so far? It shouldn’t be that far if it is only Four of Clubs.”

Kuma puts together what you’re trying to say, the look of realization on his face. “You’re right. But then, where is the goal?” You notice the graffiti reaching the bottoms of the windows, remembering how the bus was covered in it. You get up, leaving the bus, fingers brushing against the outside walls. There was nothing but casual graffiti gibberish that you never understood on the side with the door.

The other side, however, had a word written big and in blue.

GOAL

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Usagi’s water bottle empties after she offers it to the three men, who finish it in a heartbeat. She’s stopped by Arisu, who held onto her shoulder for a brief moment to get her attention. “Your friend… she confuses me. Why does she do these things?” Usagi’s automatically suspicious of Arisu, viewing his question as an insult. “What do you mean?”

“She’s very physical with my hair, my arm, my hands. No one does that to someone they just meet.” Usagi scoffs. “She cares. She’s worried about you. She’s worried about everyone. That’s why she offered to stay back with Takuma. When she held you back in the bus, she was worried about you, knowing that you’re still grieving. Y/N is a physical person in general, violent or affectionate. The only reason she kept going with it is because you hadn’t pushed her away. If you want her to stop, tell her.”

He didn’t want you to stop. Not really want, but more like he didn’t mind the gesture. He wasn’t bothered by it; really, he enjoyed it in the moment. It was comforting— something he hadn’t felt ever since his first game. Usagi laughs. “You should’ve seen her during a team game. She annihilated everybody, then went back to being all shy at the end.”

Arisu tries to imagine it, the thought of you killing people you didn’t know in order to survive. The more he tried, the more he wanted to push the thought out of his mind. The girl that gets clingy and nervous before games, the girl who convinced him to live, taking the lives of total strangers without hesitation? Honestly, he didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it.

He realizes that Usagi’s already began running from the trial, forcing himself to catch up with her, along with the other two men.

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You’re pacing frantically down the walkway of the bus, forgetting that Kuma was sitting at the end of it. “L/N, what’s wrong?” His voice stops you, remembering you hadn’t told him yet. You looked like an idiot panicking over a reason he didn’t know. “The goal. We already won.”

“What?”

“They should have stayed. This is the goal. We are safe, they are not.” Kuma looks at you in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? So… we’d survive?” You nod, looking at the graffiti on the window. “We have to do something! They’ve all ran and they need to get back here.”

You sigh, overwhelmed with emptiness. “We can’t.” You want to cry, but the tears aren’t there to flow. “What? What do you mean, we can’t?”

“They are too far. I can’t get them. Not enough time.” You say, sitting down next to him. His face is ridden with tears; he’s been crying all this time and you hadn’t noticed. You hug him, patting his head. You’re sure he’s confused as to why you’re doing this, but really it’s because you wish someone would comfort you the same way.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps, your head lifting up. “What happened?” Kuma sniffles. You get up, running to the door. “Someone is here.” You answer, him looking out the window. You step out of the bus, seeing someone running with a motorbike towards the bus. “L/N!” He calls, his messy, disheveled hair coming into a better view.

“Ryō!” You call, looking at the window where Kuma is looking out of, seeing that he noticed the bike too. Ryō runs over with the bike, both him and the hunk of metal leaning against the bus. You hug him, feeling a sense of relief that he would also survive. But then again, what about Yuzu?

“The bike,” he pants, “can fuel the bus. There’s diesel in here to fill the bus. We can drive and get Usagi and Yamane back.” You look at the bike, inspecting the shiny metal and the tank, hearing fuel sloshing around inside. You didn’t understand much about motorbikes or vehicles in general, but given that Ryō ran all the way back here with the bike convinced you that he knew what he was doing.

You explained everything to him, seeing the drive in his eyes to get Yamane and Usagi back grow in his gaze. Ryō stood behind you, Kuma in the driver’s seat. The voice on your phone reminds you, 5 minutes left. You hear a loud rumbling, telling Kuma to step on the gas. Tell is an understatement– you screamed at him.

He roughly avoided the cars on the highway street, ramming through the darker section where you see a body lay on the ground next to an animal you can’t define. As Kuma continues driving, you open the door, holding onto the bars and peeking your head out the window. You hear faint panting from a distance, the rumbling getting louder.

The sight of Yuzu running for her life from a flood of water chasing after her comes into view. You hold out your hand, screaming her name. Kuma’s foot slams on the pedal, speeding towards her. The water barely touches Yuzu’s heels as you grab her hand, pulling her into the bus and closing the door before the water could flood in.

And for a few moments, it’s dark.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A drop of water falls on your face. Then another, then another. You think of getting up, until you noticed you were resting on Ryō’s chest.

Thank god you survived, but what is life if you woke up in the most awkward situation ever?

Yuzu laid next to you, and Kuma stayed in his own little area in the driver’s corner. You shake Yuzu, forcing her awake along with Ryō. He then proceeds to wake up Kuma, opening the door above all of you since he was the tallest one there. He struggles, but manages to climb out first, Yuzu following, then you, then all three of you making an effort to pull Kuma out of the door.

“The bus is the goal. There was no point in running.” All of you stare down at the word ‘GOAL’, painted in bright blue on the side of the bus you were standing on. Yuzu jumps down first, followed by you, Ryō, then Kuma. Ryō’s hand still clasps onto yours even after he helped you jumped down, bidding Kuma a regretful goodbye in hopes of seeing him again somehow.

Trying to be completely realistic, you’d probably never see him again, and that alone made it more sad.

He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s holding your hand, squeezing it every once in a while, specifically when you see him noticeably about to cry. “Y/N, let go of him. Unless you asked first.” Yuzu notices, making you embarrassed and pull your hand away. “I actually did it first. Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t notice. L/N. I meant L/N.” Ryō apologizes, but you shake your head, assuring him that it was okay.

Deep inside, you wished he didn’t let go.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yuzu had gone out for the next few days— sometimes you tagged along with her if you woke up early enough that she’d already left. You both had gotten intel on something called The Beach, and were planning to pack up and leave eventually to scour. She’s been going out to gather supplies for hunting and for shelter, including refills of water.

When you woke up to see Yuzu wasn’t laying next to you, you found solace with Ryō. He continued to talk about his friends, how they’d gotten here and how he witnessed them sacrifice themselves just for him to survive, knowing that they’d have to pick someone to live. He never understood why, and that is what he explained to you.

The entire time, your head rested on this shoulder, your hand playing with his own. “There are gaps in your heart you that cannot fill. That is what I’ve learned in this world.” You pause, piecing together a sentence in your head. “There is no time for grief. There is no time for anything.” You rest your hand on top of his with a sigh. “Do not let grief affect your need to win in games. You must focus, or you will break the last promise your friends made to you.”

“Hard for you to talk, huh?” He jokes, his shoulders lifting as he laughs, relaxing after. “How come you do all this?” You look at him, confused. “Like… this,” He shakes his hand that rests underneath yours. “And this.” He lifts the shoulder where your head rests. “You’re always next to me. Girls are never this close with me.”

You scoff, laughing, your fingers brushing over the back of his hand for a moment. “I wish someone cared for me like this. After my mom died.” There’s definitely a lack of closure in that sentence, which made the air awkward. “I want to… give you what I did not have. I hope you don’t mind. I can stop if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. I really don’t mind. Thank you. It’s just… I guess I never had anyone comfort me like this either.” Comfort. That’s the word. You mutter it quietly to yourself, remembering what it meant. You hadn’t felt it in a while as well, only feeling most comfortable whenever you stayed with Yuzu. Eventually, you found comfort in Ryō as well.

You traced patterns on Ryō’s hand, sometimes even spelling out words. It became a hobby of yours, and sometimes he’d try to guess what you were writing as well. “B…” He started, feeling the letters on his hand. “E, A, C, H…” He looked up at you with wonder in his eyes, being able to see something past his dark irises. “The Beach?” He says it as if it was something glorified. You nod, him grabbing your wrists. “What is the Beach? Do you know? Have you been there?” You’re overwhelmed by the questions he asks you, trying to process all of them at once.

“No. I heard another person talk about the Beach. I told Yuzu. Then she heard someone talk about it too. We want to know what it is.” You explain. Something lights up in Ryō’s head, the idea being explained to you. “Some people I’ve seen wore wristbands. They had numbers on them.”

“Follow. We will follow them.” You add, Ryō nodding eagerly.

“We’ll start looking. For supplies, then we’ll search at night. You can convince Usagi, can’t you?” You nod, only half sure of it. You felt that Ryō had a better chance of convincing her for some odd reason. Yuzu still intimidated Ryō— you could tell. He’d always seem… nervous around her.

Your hands are clasped together, his own covering them with a soft grip. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it out. We’ll stick together.”

That was a week ago.

Meanwhile Yuzu offered to take the solo tent as you were sleeping in a park during your period of locating the Beach. Her and Ryō bickered about it until she finally won (like usual), meaning that he’d have to sleep in the same tent as you.

Beside you.

You totally weren’t freaking out over it. Why was Yuzu so persistent to sleep alone anyways?

Except Ryō offered to sleep outside, in the grass, where all the bugs flew around. You heard slaps from outside repeatedly, trying to fall asleep. The thing with heightened hearing was that you heard everything. Almost everything. You heard the bugs buzz outside, you heard the soft pants of Ryō every time he slapped himself. It didn’t take you long to be so bothered by it, nearly breaking the zipper to open the tent.

“Come inside. Stop slapping your face.” You say sternly, visibly bothered. Ryō pauses for a second, kicking his shoes off before scrambling inside and zipping the tent shut. He looks at you, laying down normally, just realizing how close the two of you would be. You look back at him taking a deep breath after simply patting the spot beside you.

He lays down slowly, holding his breath, shoulders tense and tight. “Calm down. It��s only me.” You mutter, turning towards him. Your nose nudges his upper arm, your hand resting on top of his. You can hear his heart racing, yet he still didn’t listen to you. “Ryō. You’re okay.” You reassure, hearing him exhale and feeling his shoulders relax. Your eyes flutter shut in an attempt to fall asleep. His arm didn’t move, but you felt the tips of his fingers touch yours.

Just before you drift off, you feel his hand hold onto yours, his touch soft and comforting.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This wasn't part of the plan.

You were being restrained by two men in bathing suits, being dragged into a large room where a bunch of people were standing in a circle. You tried to flail, but their grip on you was too strong. You first catch sight of Yuzu and Ryō, who are relieved to see that you were okay. "Y/N!"

“Ah, you three must know each other.” The man in front of you says, his orange robe blocking your vision. All your cards are laid out on the table, but it’d be too risky to grab them with two people guarding them with firearms.

From what the man said, there were three rules. You must wear a swimsuit, since firearms and/or weapons could not be concealed. Enjoy your life as much as you can, whether that be through doing drugs, having sex, or drowning yourself in alcohol. Lastly, death to the traitors, meaning the three of you didn’t have a choice but to accept if you wanted to live.

“L/N, Usagi… I’m sorry… for getting you involved.”You hear Ryō whisper from behind, your head slowly dropping, body language displaying that it was okay. “Don’t apologize. We were in this together.”

Judging from the man’s laugh, who you later learned was nicknamed ‘Hatter’, you were now a part of The Beach, like little pawns designed to win games that didn’t fully guarantee the benefit of being able to leave the hellish world.

You were sent into a room with one of the executives and Yuzu, being showed an array of swimsuits; one pieces, two pieces, bikinis, swim shorts, they had all kinds. Both of you darted for the same set, long shorts and a simple bra top, but let your friend have hands on it first, finding another one, black with swirls of grey on it, the top more cropped and shorter bottoms. You look at the executive, her arms crossed and sunglasses on, seeing her nod.

Before you leave, both you and Yuzu snagged an extra garment, a jacket and a thin robe, running into Ryō by the pool. His eyes land on both of you, but he’s drawn to you in particular, the way your robe is meant to cover but doesn’t do that at all considering it’s see through. Your chest, your waist, your thighs– he was being a pervert. He snapped out of it, looking away immediately.

And you walk over all innocent, checking your wristband in sync with Usagi, your own eyes trailing over his figure. He mostly looked the same, yet he seemed more stiff than usual. People had eyes on you, everyone you looked, there were stares coming from the bar, the poolside, even the beach chairs.

Your hand naturally drifts over to Ryō’s, toying with his fingers to distract you. He must have noticed something more, instead holding your hand fully with a tight grip. He doesn’t let go of you the whole day, afraid he’d lose you in the crowds.

The only time he let go was when everyone was separated into groups for individual games. The woman who was with you in the dressing room had Ryō following her, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart crack a little. Your eyes meet for a brief moment before he leaves, and he swears he can see the light in your eyes dim for a moment.

You managed to come back alive, and so did Yuzu, yet Ryō was nowhere to be found. As you walked down the never ending halls of the large resort, she brings up a topic you haven’t discussed once in your life.

“You like him, don’t you?”

At first, you’re confused as to who him is, then remember that there was only one him in the first place.

“Ryō?”

“You’ve been close with him. Touchy.” You nod, agreeing with her points. “You’ve always been that way, but there’s something… different. Different when it comes to Arisu.”

Your head tilts slightly, wondering how that could be. “You’re comfortable with him. You don’t second guess and always go for it. I’ve seen the way your face goes red when he accepts your gesture. The way you smile when he leans closer to you to make your habits of playing with his fingers more discreet. When he smiles at you, and you’re left lovestruck with your mouth hanging open.”

“Of course I like Ryō. He is my friend.”

“Not that like…” Yuzu searches for the words in her head, trying to put them together in a way you’d understand, but deciding to be straightforward. “You like him in a way you want to kiss him.”

You heat up from that thought alone. Kissing your friend? You weren’t sure if you were blushing from the thought of you liking it or the thought that it was embarrassing. “I haven’t… kissed anyone.” Yuzu looks around, dragging you into an empty hotel room and locking the door, letting you sit on the bed.

“Have there been times where you think of… inappropriate things involving him?”

“Sex?”

“…Sure. Sex thoughts.”

You sit there for a moment, embarrassed that you have thought about such dirty things. But Yuzu was right there, waiting for an answer, and you couldn’t get out of it despite having the choice to not say anything.

“His hands.”

“What about his hands?”

The image replays in your head like a movie. “On my waist, my hips, my thighs…” You list, unable to make eye contact with your friend. “His fingers…” You look down between your legs, not wanting to go into detail. “His lips.” Your hand brushes over your chest briefly before moving it back to your side.

“Aren’t you a virgin?”

“I know things. I’ve seen things.”

“But do you like Arisu for who he is? That’s the big question. Because if you don’t, I think you’ll hurt him.”

“I’ve always liked his personality. There are… things we… keep between ourselves that others don’t know about. I really like him, I do. It feels wrong to think such… dirty things about him. I can’t help it.” Yuzu sits down next to you, feeling a dip in the mattress on your left. “I ran into Kuina while walking around the club when you two stayed by the bar. She said to live life while I still could. And she mentioned you.”

“Me?”

“Even though we’re newcomers, she noticed you and Arisu. Even she could see the tension, despite never knowing what was going on between you two.” She holds your hands gently, one hand under and the other on top. “I’m not encouraging any… sexual activities… but I think you should tell him.”

“Tell him… I like him?”

“If he says no, I’ll kill him. And you of all people should know I will take that to heart. I feel this is the only time I’ve seen you so open, especially with Arisu. If that’s what it takes to see you like that all the time, then I hope you’ll go for it.” You smile and hug her, eventually feeling her take you in her own arms. “I will run back to you if it does not go well.” You state before you pull away. Both of you leave the room together, Yuzu going on her own after spotting a girl with a bikini top and jeans from afar.

You mindlessly check downstairs, outside, the club, and eventually back into the hallways, running into Ryō by the stairs.

“Y– L/N.”

“Y/N is okay.” You assure, walking with him close enough to have your fingers brushing against each other. “How was your game?” He asked. “Good. Easy.”

“Of course it was.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you pick up on a tinge of alcohol coming from Ryō. “Did you drink?” You ask, the scent not strong but prominent. “A little bit. Hatter wanted to discus with me. I’m not drunk.” You eye him, believing he’s telling the truth after not finding anything different about his mannerisms. “I managed to get a suite.” He says.

“How?”

“I played with Ann. The executive. Then Hatter talked to me and I got the room.”

“So… you are an executive now?”

“No. Hatter said I was… beneficial.”

Ryō takes your hand, guiding you up one more flight of stairs and opening the room, revealing a large space with a cozy seating area, a large window with the curtains closed, and a massive, made bed. His jacket is hanging in the bathroom, soaked and dripping but left to dry with a towel underneath.

“What happened to your robe?” He notices, looking back at you. “Held me back. Threw it during my game.”

You look at the door. “Should we tell Yuzu this room?”

“I already did. I ran into her before I found you.” You anxiously scratch the palm of your hand, staring at his shirt. “What’s wrong? Is there something bothering you?” You shake your head, the scratching intensifying. He grabs your wrists, separating your hands. “Don’t do that. You might scratch too hard and bleed.” He notices your hands shaking, knowing if he let go that you would continue.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his grip loosening. Your heart is pounding, unable to make eye contact with him. “I want… to tell you something.” You stutter, breath shaky. Ryō could feel the pulse point on your wrist, unclear but fast thumps against his thumb. “I like you.”

His eyes widen, and he almost lets go, but instead you grab his hand and place it against your chest, feeling your heartbeat just as fast as he did from your wrist. He was trying so hard not to stare at your tits at the same time.

“I’m scared.” You mutter, hiding your face.

“Why?”

“That you’ll hate me… since you don’t… like me back.”

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

You look up at him for the first time since you’ve entered the room, and his look is genuine. Your hand stays on his wrist, but he moves his own hand up your neck, a sudden chill shaking your body. He tilts your head up to make up for the height, and kisses you.

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him.

The moment his lips are on yours, you don’t want to let go. You wanted to kiss him for as long as you could, be in his arms for as long as they could hold you. You’re both a mess of tongue and lips, and you couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more than he could give.

You both stumble over to the bed, being the first to lay down with Ryō hovering over you. His chest presses against your tits as he leans into you, making you groan. He pulls away, a whine emitting from you, his finger barely slipping under the band of your bra, looking at you endearingly. “Can we do this? I want to make you feel good. Please.” He practically moans, and you don’t even have to think, nodding profusely.

Maybe it’s the fact you’re horny as fuck right now, as he is, but god, you wanted to see him beg for you so bad. Seeing the position he was in right now, pleading for your consent, the way his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, you wanted to be the only one that could make him do that.

And by the end of the night, you certainly did.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Clothes are strewn on the floor, the light barely shines through the crack of the curtains. There’s a naked man laying next to you in bed, snoring softly with his mouth slightly open. His hair messy and his arm under your head, he lays there peacefully, his own eyes fluttering open and squeezing shut after being hit with the light of the sun. He opens them to see you, and your glowing, post-sex face.

“Hi.” You greet, further leaning on his arm. “Hi.” He replies, hand curling around your head to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so pretty.” He says, fingers playing with your hair.

“You are.”

He doesn’t retaliate and simply smiles, giving you your first kiss of the day. He breaks eye contact first, lost in thought. “Does this change anything between us?” He asks, looking back at you. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I… that was… really nice.” He refers to the night before with a smile, unashamed.

“I want… to be more… than friends.” The words come out staggered, but he understands, his smile growing slightly. “But I don’t want this to… hold us back in games. If we lose each other, we won’t join the other. The other… must stay alive. I don’t want me or you to give up… because the other half isn’t there anymore. Can you promise that?” There’s a tinge of worry in his eyes, but it slowly changes to understanding as your hand cups his jaw. He nods. “I promise.”

You kiss him once more, bringing the two of you back onto each other again. His free hand rests on your waist, moving to your back to push you closer, then down to your ass, your leg on top of his side.

“Jesus, I thought you two were done already.”

Yuzu is staring at you from a distance by the corner of the wall, seeing one of your undergarments on the floor. “Get dressed, we need to find more intel. Y/N, you can stay with Arisu, since you’re already with him anyways.” She eyes the position you’re in right now, looking at Arisu, then at you. “I’m assuming it went well.”

You nod. “It did.”

“I knew it would. I knew he liked you anyways. I was going to come in until I heard what was going on. You left the door unlocked. Lucky you two were so loud no one dared to walk in.” She leaves the room, the two of you back to admiring each other in the glow of the covered sunlight.

“I could never hate you, by the way. I feel like you’re the reason I’m still alive right now. Everything you said stuck with me… and I guess it kept pushing me to live.”

“What if I die? Would you… still have the will to live?”

“I’d keep living if that was your last dying wish.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want to say hi to you. i have no reason to. 🎧

[yumedoca]

Ataru’s Harem: The Bad End (An Analysis)

Attention!! The following analysis was written by an inexperienced me during the month of November. This might've been my first one, so I had a habit of overexplaining back then, which I no longer do as much while writing now, so please excuse any mistakes. Also, The arc which this analysis focuses on didn't have an official translation at the time, so I had to rely on the fan translations instead (which I do mention in the analysis as well)... This was just sitting in my drafts and the poll I held said to post it, so...

Analysis under the cut...

[I repeat, EVERYTHING under the cut is from November, so it's not like my usual ones, including the blue title above..]

The Doors of Fate Arc (AKA Inaba the Dream maker) is probably my favorite storyline in Urusei Yatsura. Just the way everything’s written in that arc is done so perfectly. And so, one of my favorite things about the arc is how they portray Ataru. The focus on not just Ataru, but his ideal harem and the reality of his harem is what this analysis will focus on.

We’ll begin from the point in the story where Ataru, Lum, Shinobu and Inaba were resting after witnessing all the bad futures and Lum asks Ataru what is it that he wants to see in his future. Ataru knowing that Lum won’t take his answer of “Harem” very well, says “Something…” as his reply. To which Lum questions him whether he wants to see them married or not, and that he’s probably looking for a future where he has a harem. To which he tells Lum that she’s misjudging him and that all he wants is to just live in a cheap six tatami apartment with Lum… (with Lum in the background being touched by that sentiment) ….and Shinobu and Sakura and Ran, Ryunosuke, Ryoko, Benten, Oyuki. He states that that’s his meager future to which Lum angrily replies “THAT’S MEAGER!?”

The first thing we can pick from this is that Ataru’s vision of a harem here is more humble than his initial one. His initial harem dream had him in a huge mansion[?] and with far more power, money (it isn’t stated, but from the way how big his house[?] is, you can assume he’s rich) and of course a lot of sexy women. It seems that by now, Ataru’s realized that he won’t naturally gain a lot of power or money from the way he is, he’s mostly aware of how he is and what all can he achieve in that area without some kind of miracle, after all he’s not Mendo who naturally can get those things. So he opts for the easier and more realistic scenario… Even though it isn’t a 100% realistic….. 

Later the gang go into the destiny factory and Inaba explains that the destiny factory is where is all the futures are made and that they can make their own futures as well, which they do. Ataru, Lum and Shinobu end up creating knobs for each of them, which if attached to a door can create their ideal future. 

Unfortunately, they got found out by bunnies of the Fate Production Bureau. The gang immediately runs away so they don’t get caught by them and during the chase Lum ends up dropping her knob into the abyss and losing it. While Ataru tells Lum not to worry since he still has his harem knob, prompting her to go on an angry electric chasing spree which Ataru manages to avoid by attaching his knob to a door and escaping Lum’s wrath (for the time being, that is.) And then he has a good look at his “ideal future made with extra- special care”…

The first thing he notes is that the place is too small (and whether his future income can handle this), probably since everyone’s complaining. Future Ataru awkwardly laughs the complaints off since there’s nothing he could do, since this how the future was made. This issue was probably created since Ataru didn’t think of the consequences of his humble future.

(To be read from left to right for this arc, cuz for some reason the fan translations are flipped)

Ataru thinks to himself that this lifestyle is pretty rough. Then he points out that everyone’s here including Benten, Ran, Oyuki. Everyone, Except…

Future Ataru leaves his apartment saying that he’s going for a short walk, and then he sits down to contemplate (with the present Ataru quietly coming towards him and standing behind him and listening). And then future Ataru reveals the truth about what happened to Lum while he was creating his harem…

So in a nutshell, he basically treated her like a worthless slave. And even after all of that, future Ataru questions her decision to leave, with the present Ataru giving the most appropriate reaction in this situation.

Now this is where an analysis is the most necessary. This section of the story shows us the most important thing about the reality of Ataru’s harem which is… Ataru’s Personality Change.

Usually if Ataru did something stupid or wrong from his side and if Lum tries to give him what he deserves in that situation. He’d start acting as if he’s the wounded party and complains about it (comedically), but deep down he’ll admit to himself that he does deserve the blame after all. This is the most apparent in the “Electric Jungle” arc. When Lum runs away with Shingo, Ataru acts like Lum’s the one at fault even though he’s the one who was originally late for their date. 

(To be read from right to left, since the material for this chapter is taken from the official translations)

…He got zapped after that panel…

Anyways, later on when Lum doesn’t return and Ataru starts worrying about her, he does admit that it was his fault for being late after all.

Not only that but Ataru knows about the limits to how selfish one must behave and he manages not to cross that limit because deep down he’s a good guy. Even when he insults Lum he makes sure that his insults will receive an angry response (which she recovers quite quickly from) from her rather than a sad one (which hurts her really deeply and it takes time for her to recover from).

But Ataru’s future shows that making a harem has made him far more selfish than before, so selfish and greedy to the point where he doesn’t even realize he’s at fault for using the love of his life for slave labor of all things. Of course future Lum leaving future Ataru makes sense after what he’s done, but I think the main reason she left him is because deep down the Ataru she fell in love with, ie. the side she loved him for, no longer exists. That’s quite a depressing future if you think about it, and thank god Ataru removed the knob from the door, deleting that future, while questioning whether he wants a harem or not (cuz what’s the point of a harem if he can’t have Lum?).

We also get to hear from him that he only loves Lum, not Shinobu, not Sakura, not Benten and so on… since he admits to being fickle.

The harem future has a sad end for both Ataru and Lum, but the reason he ditched it is not because he had a depressing end, it was because Lum had a depressing end. This proven later on we get to see him react to a future where they are married, and we see him accepting and trying to save that future, because he saw that Lum was so happy to the point she was crying tears of joy.

(Also Ataru’s smile and blush in this scene is so fckin cute! Like, look at that blushing bunny!)

Anyways, that’s all for this analysis. I just felt like this section of the arc deserved an analysis since no one really talks about it. Thank you for reading and hope you have a nice day.

[howlingday]

Hey Howling, thanks for the advice before! I know asking questions isn't how most people expect advice, but it does work since it forces us to sit down and think a little bigger.

So thanks for that.

I guess that brings another question/advice/opinion I've been meaning to ask you.

When it comes to creating content to share, whether fanfic or original, what motivates you?

Cuz' the more serious I tend to get about an idea, the more I freak out about how much of my own personal time I inevitably start devoting to it.

Which is great in one sense... cuz I get lost into my wondrous world of writing headspace...

... and short little drabbles, and silly prompts are great fun! I really do enjoy them!

But when it comes to fanfics, swimming super deep in the depths of my untethered imagination honestly scares me...

Because who knows if all my effort will be shrugged at and forgotten by the fans or other creators, when I could have been doing something original...?

Or if... when I finally do stick my head up out of the depths of any fandom...

...I'll find that back in the real world, above the surface, the tide of my life will have changed, and I'll realize how much the shore has shifted and moved on...

... alongside my loved ones who will have made new memories without me, every time I insisted on spending just a little more time diving deep, as they never had the urge to go exploring with me...

... all because I was so focused diving into the fandom of someone else's waters.

Sorry, if it got a little heavy, (and I get it if this doesn't get posted), but as someone who gets lost spending months at a time thinking up of new ideas, I wanted your insight on what makes fanfic writing worth it.

Small prompts are fun and a great way to use time, but lengthy-novels and time-consuming art?

What do you think?

Oof... Really aimed right at a very tender and sensitive weak point of mine, to be honest.

But first of all, I'm glad my advice helped you out with your thought process for building your world.

Now, I'mma be really real with you about the whole "time" thing. One of, if not the most absolute worst thought I could ever think of is "how much of my time was this really worth?" Because one thing I find myself often being during my "slumps" is a nihilist. I'll be in my groove, popping out funny ideas and neat little plot points when BAM! I ask myself "What is this all amounting to? Is this something that's going to matter in ten years? Or five years? Next year? What am I going to do in the real world?"

THIS IS THE POTENTIALLY WORST MINDSET YOU COULD POSSIBLY EXPERIENCE.

What helps me out of it is to, well, keep doing it. Get my idea out there and see how much people love it. Keep going at it, build yourself and your style, and learn from your prior mistakes and the mistakes of others.

As for the OTHER aspects in my life, it boils down to numerous factors, because on top of the multiple dozen drafts of asks I have saved for later, I also have my job, my stack of video games to beat and or give up on, my 3000+ YouTube Watch Later list, my MMA classes, and whatever I've got planned with my friends. I remember in college, there was a critical thinking class that said,

"YOU DON'T MAKE TIME, YOU BORROW IT FROM SOMETHING ELSE."

I see the small prompts, incorrect quotes, and spitposts as just fun little writing exercises to just get out there. Definitely play around with them if and when you can.

I hope the advice I gave helps and didn't just sound like me whining. Honestly, the best way to get good at all aspects of writing, including planning, dreaming, and actually writing is to keep doing it. And kinda let it all blend together in your life. If I see or hear something funny or inspiring or just plain awesome, I'll pop it into an incorrect quote and send it out! People love it? Great! No? Oh, well...

But always, always, always...

KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!

[xyliane]

AU-gust 2: college au

PROMPT THE SECOND: COLLEGE AU (one of these days I’m actually going to draft a story out of my own tales of undergrad into chaos, mayhem, and jumping out of windows cuz the class was boring. instead today, you get the aftereffects of being a TA and also seeing this post on twitter and jumping a few dozen steps to the right. hxh again, zushi pov)

0o0o0o0o0o

It’s 3am, Zushi has a paper due in the morning, and he is bouncing impatiently from foot to foot outside of the RA’s door in shorts and an old shirt that should have fallen apart months ago. It’s not fair, really. He could have had this done days ago, all he needs is the translation for some final key conclusions, but his partner on the Artomatic forums fell off the map, Professor Palm absolutely refuses to help, and Zushi still doesn’t read Greek in any form, let alone whatever form of it is going on in this tome he’d scavenged out of the dusty corners of the old art wing library.

Zushi’s an engineering major. He has a whole internship lined up after this, working with Wing and Dr. Krueger on practical applications of Da Vinci’s wing sketches. This art class is the last humanities section he ever needs to take. Why does he need ancient Greek just to understand a fresco made thousands of years ago depicting a bunch of naked people breaking vases--

He pounds on the RA’s door again, just as the flimsy wood creaks open. Killua, to no surprise, is still awake, white hair casually tousled and blue eyes a little red from whatever he’s using to stay conscious. He looks like any other time Zushi’s seen him, save for the chocorobo-print pajamas. He blinks a little, like he’s not used to looking up at someone taller than him. “Oh, hey Zushi. What’s up?”

Zushi all but launches the tome at Killua (and it is a tome, leather-bound and heavy as a whole weightlifting rack and smelling of dead dust). The RA catches it in his chest with an oomph fuck. “I heard you...” Killua raises an eyebrow, and Zushi swallows heavily. “I heard you can read ancient Greek?” he asks the chocorobos covering Killua’s knees.

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, Zushi knows he’s screwed. He’ll take the F on the term paper, the absolute mess it will do to his overall GPA, Wing will just look disappointed--

And Killua lets out a little chuckle. “Haven’t got that in awhile. You bring your phone?” At Zushi’s stare, he adds, a little sharper, “For the translation.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Killua sighs, and steps into his room as though expecting Zushi to follow. They’re friends, Zushi thinks, or at least friendly--Killua’s a good RA as far as making sure everyone’s forms are in on time and not enforcing the rules when he thinks they don’t make sense. But he’s never been in here before.

It looks like any other single, but with a private bath. Maybe a little neater than most, a teetering tower of textbooks threatening to consume most of the desk. Zushi doesn’t know what he expected.

Fortunately, Zushi has had the fresco’s page marked for ages now, so it’s easy to find and point out the troublesome scrawl. At the sight, Killua seems to brighten, some of the everpresent uni student exhaustion lifting as he traces a finger along the photocopied brushstrokes. He looks absolutely thrilled at whatever it is he’s found, words boxy and stark against the naturalistic forms.

Zushi coughs a little too loudly, and Killua’s head snaps up, white curls bouncing a little. He grins a little sheepishly. “Where did you find this?” he asks. “When I was--I know some people who would kill for a look at this.”

Killua’s previous major is a source of much debate amongst the freshmen--what gives someone fluency in at least three languages, a solid basis in at least calc 3, and way too many opinions about world leaders?--but Zushi doesn’t care right now. He just wants to get this done. “Can you read it?” he asks. “Please?”

Killua shrugs. “Sure, as long as I can borrow this when you’re done. Pronunciation first.”

And Killua begins to read. Zushi has no idea what he’s saying, but the words seem to flow musically, one into the other, until it’s hard to tell if Killua is reading or singing. When the phrases finish, they don’t so much end as echo, vibrating around the shabby college dorm as though aching to sink in and create a place worthy of their sound.

Zushi doesn’t realize he’s stopped breathing until Killua takes a deep breath himself. He’s pale, paler than usual, and his hands are white-knuckled around the edges of the pages. “Well. That was...” He glances up, seeming to remember Zushi is there, and rolls out his shoulders. “Now, to translate--”

And the ground erupts in light.

When Zushi’s eyes clear, it’s still nighttime, but he’s laying on well-used cobblestone, and an infinite array of stars stretches out in front of his eyes. He doesn’t remember laying down. He doesn’t remember the outside. And he certainly doesn’t remember such colorful statues towering overhead, not unless you count Captain Biggs’s much-defaced figure outside of the gym.

A brown-skinned young man with wind-swept black hair stares at him, brown eyes dancing as he yells something across the stone--a plaza maybe? a courtyard?

By the time the young man’s helped Zushi sit up and offered a small sip of what tastes like wine, Killua’s back, now dressed in something out of a toga party with a smile practically splitting his face, wider and wilder than Zushi has ever seen. “Cool, you made it. Did you know you found one of the last remaining active frescoes? Because I didn’t, and if I had I wouldn’t have read it out loud.”

Zushi shakes his head. “I don’t read Greek,” he says.

Killua says, “You’d better get good quick. We’re in Athens until our friend here--” The young man says something, voice a question even if his expression is still laughing, and Killua shakes his head. “--Gon, can help us find the original.”

“The original...”

Killua kicks him gently with a bare foot. “You’re an engineering major. You’re not that stupid.”

Zushi can all but feel the wheels creaking in his head, splitting away from logic and reforming into some new, illogical, impossible set of gears. “Th-that’s not--we’re in Greece???”

“Circa 4th or 5th century BCE, if I’m getting my dates right,” Killua agrees cheerfully. He holds out a hand and tugs Gon to his feet, their grip and Killua’s eyes lingering just a little too long before offering the same to Zushi.

Zushi takes a few deep breaths, then one more for good measure. He can deal with this. He’s shit at language, but this is a problem, and there will be a solution, and he will find it before he has to turn in that miserable paper.

“Okay,” he says, and lets Killua help him up. “Okay. And your new boyfriend will get me clothes, too?”

Killua’s grin turns smug in a way that Zushi really, really does not want to know. “When in Rome, right?”

“We’re in ancient Greece!” Zushi squawks.

(AUgust prompts)

[pandemicthestory]

episode 17: defined

In here, the passage of time is impossible to measure.

Night and Emma have been sitting in the forest for minutes - but then again, it could be hours.  

What’s weirder than the time freeze, though, is that the longer she stays here the less anxious Emma feels. When Night brought her here she was fuming, but now, that anger seems to have faded. So like, is this an enchanted forest? Or is it something to do with...him.

“I don’t know anything about you.” he says, unprompted. He knows this is a lie, but he wonders what she’ll say in response.

The dark forest darkens. It’s almost as if they have nowhere to be. 

“Well uh, that sister I’m looking for...she’s sort of, the favorite. And it makes sense, so I’m not really mad. She’s the good one. I actually need her around, so that it doesn’t feel like everyone’s eyes are on me.” 

Night nods. 

“Do you mean that you aren’t good?” he asks. 

“I guess it depends on who you ask. My friends would probably tell you I’m special. My uh...other relationships…”

Her mind wanders to Julian, and the plan they had to get away. It seems like so long ago that she planned to leave everything for him - almost like a distant memory. It’s interesting to her that she’s somehow ended up farther away than she ever could’ve predicted. 

She returns to the non-Julian sitting in front of her. “Well no, I wouldn’t call myself good. And you?”

Night stares off into the darkness. 

“I don’t think anyone is good or bad really.” 

“Then why the hell did you ask me?” Emma asks, annoyed. 

“I was interested to hear what you’d say.”

Emma scoffs to herself. “You think you can learn who a person is based on what they tell you? Sorry, but it’s the opposite. Everyone lies and no one knows themselves anyway so the lies don’t even matter.” 

Emma seems to have given this idea some thought before.

“I think what people have to say about themselves says less about where they’ve already been, and more about where they might be going.” explains Night. 

“Oh really? Are you a psychologist or something? Don’t answer that, I don’t even want to know. You freak me out.” 

“You say you’re no good, and I think...I think that means that you don’t know your own potential...and that you’re setting a limit on yourself so you don’t have to find out.” 

 Emma opens her mouth to respond, but has nothing to say. 

“So what are you, a psychologist?”

The two of them continue to sit in the forest, beginning to recognize more about what they have in common and some of what makes them different. 

Emma breaks down the meaningful parts of her life for him. As a teenage girl, that basically consists of friends, family, school. She wonders why Night seems so interested in something that is, to her, so boring. Her face lights up when she talks about her friends. It darkens when she talks about Isabel. 

She notices that he hardly moves. She notices that he seems like he knows how every story is going to end. 

Night finds Emma to be confusing. He finds most people around him to be predictable - from his early childhood surrounded by other Inborns, to his high school classmates coming from different walks of life (both “real” and virtual). No matter the case, Night lives on his own planet far from the rest of humanity. Normally, he tunes everything out. So why is she any different?

He notices that Emma is shockingly unapologetic, yet senses her overwhelming guilt and insecurity. How can she be so confidently odd but seem to doubt her own worth?

And for that matter, why is that someone who loves her sister enough to chase her through different worlds...seems to not really know her sister at all?

Why is she a builder of computers and software, a creator of code, yet seems erratic with no laws binding her?

It’s her who breaks the connection first: “We should probably go, right?” 

Sure, yeah, probably. He nods. They rise. 

And yet, he continues to wonder: why is it that when he speaks, her eyes burn deep into him? In this forest, always dark and quiet for as long as he can remember, those fierce eyes are like sun.

* * * 

6 MONTHS EARLIER:

Night can barely keep his head up in class. The long nights of aimlessly staring into the internet have made him almost nocturnal. Which is why it would be really unfortunate if--

“Night, what was your response?” 

Shit. 

Of course Teacher calls on him. He definitely hasn’t been paying attention to whatever’s been going on, so...his response is:

“I don’t have one.” 

Some of his classmates laugh. Others roll their eyes, unamused--this kid’s vacancy was funny the first five times and now it’s just tiresome.

Teacher is among the unamused. 

“Well see if you can think of one by the end of the period, and you can tell me after class.” 

More laughter. Night groans and returns his head to the cold metal of his desk. Wait, what was the question again?

The vibration of his desk stirs his consciousness - the slight humming motion that lets everyone know when class is over. Those around him rise up and head for the door. A few students give him a pitying look, but most don’t really see him. This, he’s used to. 

Teacher shuts the door behind them. She sighs.

“You already know what I’m going to say. And I already know what you’re going to say.” 

“Then why did you keep me here? I--” Night responds.

“--You’re going to try to convince me that this is the best you can do. When I am quite confident that is not the case.” 

“I just don’t care. And I don’t mean disrespect by it.” Night is unable to articulate himself in a way that’s not offensive, but again, that’s nothing new. 

“I understand you Night. And I want to move forward instead of dwelling on the past. Have you made progress on your research assignment?”

Night pauses. 

“That’s ok, I’m going to guess that you haven’t started. But you still have a week. You can do something brilliant, I know you can. If you used all of your mind, Night…” 

He wonders what she’ll say, but she doesn’t finish.

“I want to believe in you, so help me to do so. You need to improve if you want to get on the right track...if you want to be building at the level that I know you’re capable of...well, some people aren’t so lucky when they graduate, and some are. I hope you’re among the lucky.” 

She offers a smile. He wonders if she gives this speech to everyone. 

* * * 

“I’ma go ahead and take a night shower, cuz I gotta get up early and do school service. Don’t ask bro, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Sugar says as he heads into their bathroom. 

Night just nods.

“Uh, aren’t you gonna ask me about it?” Sugar asks. 

“You just said you didn’t want me to.” 

“Yeah but you always up in my business anyway. What’s up with you? You know what, I don’t wanna know.” Sugar closes the bathroom door, and then calls from inside, “but you can tell me if you want to.” 

Night boots up his computer. Maybe it’s time to start that research paper. Or to at least read the assignment description, because he honestly has no idea what’s supposedly due next week. 

Ok, huh. Doesn’t seem to be the normal kind of research paper...it seems like, they’re actually expected to...make their own research. As in, find something new. Well shit. One week is going to be difficult.

Night is incredibly smart, and had this been a typical “find the history of blah blah blah”, this wouldn’t be a problem. But now he’ll need to think. 

So he thinks. 

And thinks. 

And...gets sick of thinking.

He finds it interesting that there are young people like him all over the world doing the same exact assignments every night, yet everyone is alone and working independently. Maybe everyone is struggling to care like he is. 

People should really band together and overpower the system that requires “research papers.” What a useless skill, honestly.  

Night begins to search through forums on information and research sharing, diving deeper and deeper. There are certainly others out there looking for the same shortcuts. 

It’s under an obscure reddit forum that he finds a question and answer about some...anonymous genius who writes papers. It’s expensive, but supposedly vouched for. 

Huh.

Who could this ghostwriter be? They sound useful. 

Night follows the virtual bread crumb trailer just a bit farther. He soon finds the ghostwriter’s well-disguised website, and drafts an email of inquiry. He sends the assignment prompt and notes that price is not an issue, only time. 

Nothing more he can do now. He might as well troll around for another few hours before sleeping for two, and then maybe he’ll wake up to a response before class.

*ping* 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to wait that long. Someone out there stays awake just as late as he does.

[orphan-with-a-stutter]

Love Worth Fighting For (Tommy x reader)

requested by anon

prompt: either with Peter or Tommy you choose, but like when he comes back from Dunkirk he finds out his s/o is promised to someone else and even though his s/o attempt to push the wedding day away (you know cuz they are waiting for him to come back and running away or some cliché thing) but, well the wedding will happen and idk he bursts into the church in the middle of the ceremony or plead their parents to cancel the wedding or something please?

warnings: forced marriage???

AN: I decided Tommy was best for this

The war had ruined everything, your family life, your love life, and even friendships.

Before the war you and Tommy were together and happy, your parents even loved him, but with him drafted into war and your parents urge to marry you off they forgot about your happiness. You became promised to another man a “better man”.

“He’s well suited for you. He has land, money, and will provided the best before and after the war.” Was your mother’s on going statement.

He was a rich boy and so of course he didn’t have to go fight. That made you sick, the love of your life was out fighting while this rich brat got to be safe at home and got you.

Your parents kept trying to make the wedding date but you kept pushing it off. You knew Tommy would make it back, you felt it in your gut.

You had heard on the radio about the evacuation of Dunkirk and all the soldiers who would be returning home. You knew Tommy would be one of those, you were right of course. As you were at his house visiting his parents once more, something you did every week, the door opened to show Tommy covered in dry oil, tired and skinny.

Neither of you had cared though, just seeing each other in that moment you both bursted into tears.

It was days later you told him about being promised to someone else and had already been pushing the wedding back for months.

“My parents won’t take any more excuses…” You breathed, “the wedding is in four days.” Tears once more fell down your face as he hugged you.

“We’ll figure something out.” He replied.

Neither of you really knew what you were going to do to stop this wedding but you trusted each other enough to know you would.

The thought of running away together had came up, but in a time of war it was almost to dangerous plus neither of you hand the money. You didn’t know what to do you had tried telling your parents you were waiting for Tommy but they didn’t listen.

Tommy had decide to go to them, to prove that he loved you and for them to stop the wedding. He went to them two days before the wedding. He asked them to call it off, that you didn’t even know he was there asking, that he would be able to provided for you and take care of you.

Your mother realized then what they had done, she knew before the war Tommy was the one for you but with him being sent to war she worried he wouldn’t return and agreed with your father to promise you to a good suitor.

Your father, no matter how much he liked Tommy before the war, insisted to keep the wedding because it was better and it was a promise and he never went back on them. When Tommy came in to plead for him to call off the wedding he wasn’t impressed.

Tommy left with nothing changed, he hated himself more for going off to fight instead of staying back with you. He fought for his home and now he was fighting for you as luck would have it.

Tommy had been at home the following day when there was a knock at the door. Getting up and made his way to the door he saw something on the ground. I was an envelope addressed to him, he picked it up and opened the door to see if there was anyone still there, but no one was. Sitting back down in the living room Tommy opened the envelope to see a letter and enough pounds to live off of. Tommy’s eyes went wide at the money and quickly looked at the letter to read it over.

Dear Tommy,

The wedding is tomorrow and stopping it won’t happen. I know you love her and she loves you. Your words have really opened my eyes that I want the best for (Y/n) and in doing so I will tell you this.

Tommy started to read and union finishing it he reread it again to make sure he read it right. Once realizing he did the biggest smile appeared on his face.

The next morning you, your maid of honor and your mother were all in a room getting you ready for your unfortunate day. They could see it in your face and even in your body language.

“(Y/n), smile you are getting married!” Your maid of honor exclaimed, “He’s so handsome as well, you’re very lucky I wish my parents would pick a man like that for me.” She continued but you ignored her.

“Everything will be alright.” You mom smiled adding the finishing touches.

Your maid of honor left to get in her place leaving you and your mom.

She slowly walked you out of the room and into the hallway where there were two exits, one that everyone had walked in and everyone would walk out and one close to your dressing room that you just wanted to run out of. Both doors were covered with purple curtains letting in no light and it made you more upset.

“I don’t want to do this. What if I say ‘no’ up there what will father do?” You asked mostly to yourself but your mother just smiled.

As your bridesmaids started to walk you waited for your father to come take your arm but instead your mother spoke up.

“Go out this door now!” She yelled in a low voice and opened the outside door closes to you.

“What?” You asked looking at her.

“Trust me go now.” She smiled once more and you nodded and went out the door.

Stepping out the door and going down the steps to your right and saw Tommy leaning on the hood of a car.

“Tommy!” You yelled with a smile and ran to him pulling him into a hug.

“You look beautiful love,” he said looking at you, “come on we got to get you in the car.” He smiled and grabbed your hand running you to the passenger side and opened the door.

You got in without questioning him and he closed the door before running to his side and getting in, he started the engine and drove off.

“Okay,” you laughed as the chapel grew out of view, “what is going on? Where did you get the car and why did my mother allow me to leave?” You asked looking at him.

A smile grew on his face, “I went to ask them to call off the wedding, I left with no hope but your mother she-“

“She changed her mind?”

“Yea but she knew your father wouldn’t. She left me a letter yesterday telling me to take your car, apparently this was going to be a wedding gift.” He laughed, “And wait at the chapel she was going to have someone distract your father so you could leave the building and I was to drive us out to (pick a town/city in England). Where we could start a life of our own.”

“Tommy, we don’t have money for that!”

“Don’t worry love she provided that to us, she gave us enough to get us started and even married in a small chapel.” He smiled and grabbed your hand, “she did say to write her so she would know where we were staying because she would like to visit.”

“I will defiantly do that,” you smiled locking your hand with his non-driving one, “I owe her big now.”

“We both do.” He said before kissing your hand.

-----

So I was worried this wasn’t going to be long enough...turns out I was wrong

Tag list (just ask to be added)

@rxcer

[afigureofspeech]

You were never in any danger: a Kastle rec post

Hey y’all. If you follow me already, you may not have realized that I’ve gained some fandoms recently since I’ve been too busy to do something as time-consuming as reblogging all the stuff I scroll past but yeah, I’ve currently got two other rec posts sitting patiently in my drafts, just waiting for me not to be destroyed by grad school. As you all may know though, The Punisher comes out today, so I really just couldn’t help myself.

I didn’t expect to be here. I get the sense that most people on this ship didn’t either? Cool, we’re all in this together. I haven’t even been here that long; I happened to see someone freaking out on my dash a few weeks ago about that part in the trailer where they’re on the floor and Frank touches Karen’s hair – you know the one – and, well, somehow I wound up rewatching all the Kastle scenes over and over and over… I was even planning on waiting until next week to binge the whole season, when I’m on break and recovering from minor surgery and all, but I’m way too hyped to wait so I’ll probably get to it this weekend instead.

In any case, this isn’t a full rec post cuz the series dropped and I just wanted to get it out. Please forgive the general messy and incompleteness, I’ll do an update later when I have the time. Now a full rec post! Tried to fit in as much as I could think of. Also, if anyone out there has some fics (or anything else) you want to rec, please do! Like I said I am new here and I haven’t had the chance to go through the whole AO3 tag (yet lol).

My other rec posts can be found here.

Hope you enjoy~

* = new

Update 12/19/17: So apparently there is a limit on how many links I can have in a post. In the interest of being able to add more fic, I have removed the extra sections for fanart, fanvids, etc. If you go to some of the kastle blogs I link to at the bottom though I am sure you can find plenty. Sorry about that!

→ FANFIC

alamorn

AKA Under Investigation AO3 Their first meeting after she told him he was dead to her doesn’t go exactly how he thought it would.

glove upon hand AO3 Frank Castle, metaphorically standing in his half dug grave, takes a literal hand to get out.  [Post-Punisher s1]

trouble in mind AO3 Frank didn’t like to ask for things. That wasn’t a surprise — she knew that about him before she knew almost anything else. That Frank Castle, he’s a monster, he’s a machine, he doesn’t know how to ask for help. It’s lucky for him that Karen has never waited to be asked. [Warning: explicit sexual content, femdom, pegging]

alchemistc 

after AO3 | Tumblr He presses his lips into her hair and breathes deep, chest expanding against her side, arm curled around her, and Karen thinks - Do we deserve this? [Punisher speculation]

can’t no preacher man AO3 | Tumblr She breathes a sigh of relief when she catches sight of the shape of her late night visitor, and then stifles a snort at herself. Only Karen Page would find the sight of Frank Castle relieving.  [Part 2 of the devil’s backbone series] 

hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed AO3 | Tumblr “Was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop in. ”She kinda wants to punch him in his stupid face, but she knows it wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t even land, unless he wanted it to. Besides, it’s not like she could make the bruises littering his skin any worse than they already are. Frank Castle, Walking Bruise. Somehow, it just doesn’t have the same ring to it as The Punisher. [Part 1 of the devil’s backbone series]

walk together with our hands up in the sky AO3 | Tumblr Frank and Karen in the aftermath.  [Post-Punisher s1]

you bear the scars AO3 | Tumblr “Men.” “Tell me about it,” Trish says, her voice somehow managing to convey both too-chipper energy and exasperation of the highest level. “I don’t know how much I can, actually.” Trish grins, tipping the plastic bottle in Karen’s direction. “The Punisher has taken you on as a pet project, you spend your days building up more enemies than even Jessica can manage on a bad day, and you’re totally attracted to a vigilante who prowls the streets at night killing people. Does that pretty much cover it?” “How did you - I am not - there is nothing going on between me and Frank!” [Part 3 of the devil’s backbone series] 

angel_deux

AKA Puzzle Pieces AO3 Jessica Jones is not an easy friend to have. And Karen’s not even really sure if she can call her a friend. But Jessica is a good person to have in your corner in a crisis, which is good, because one of Frank’s enemies makes a sudden reappearance.  [Part 2 of The Sinner and the Saint series] 

Between the Sinners and the Saints AO3 A new villain with killer aim nearly takes Frank out, and he makes the call to go to Karen for help. Karen, who hasn’t seen him in months, who has been wishing she could take back those words she said to him in the woods. She never thought she’d get the chance to repair what they both broke that night, so once he’s back in her life, she’s not going to let him disappear again so easily.  [Part 1 of The Sinner and the Saint series]

Tough Girl is What I Had to Be AO3 Lisa Castle survives the incident in Central Park, and Karen Page wants to take care of her. Set in an AU where Lisa survived but Frank had no knowledge of it until after the events of Season 2.  [Lisa lives AU; you didn’t know you wanted this but I’m here to tell you that you absolutely do]

carrythesky 

i started all the wars AO3 | Tumblr  (Turns out fighting’s easy, once you start. The problem is that he’s never learned how to stop.)  [Punisher speculation, all the angst]

It’s still heavy Tumblr  [Karen Page grows up pretending. She escapes to the broom closet downstairs, curls into the dark space and when she closes her eyes she’s an astronaut, a deep-sea explorer, a knight scaling tall towers to rescue damsels in distress.]

things you said in the dark Tumblr  [Sometimes, late at night when her eyes itch with exhaustion and the words on her screen become a jumbled blur, sometimes, she thinks of home. The most recent memories are transparent as glass but her childhood is a series of fragments, fuzzy at the edges - rain on the breeze, gingersnap crumbs, Kevin laughing over his shoulder and running ahead, always just ahead - And this, plucked from the haze: Penelope Page hunched over the kitchen table in the middle of the night, crying.]

untitled Tumblr  [q: what scares you? a: you have your good arm around her torso, barrel shoved up under her chin and the magazine is an arm’s length away but you’re still careful, careful. she is steel beneath you and that’s when it hits, that’s when you picture your twitchy finger slipping and a bullet going straight through her skull, in and out before you can blink. the elevator door slides shut and you can’t pull away fast enough. (you are the most dangerous thing her hands have touched.)] [How to pack a punch in 500 words or less holy sHIT]

edourado 

Bodies make it perfect AO3 | Tumblr Drunk Karen is a test to Frank's will power  [Companion piece/sequel to Second Night; warning: explicit sexual content]

Boss AO3 | Tumblr Tumblr prompt: "I need you to scream for me. You're Karen Page he's the Punisher, he will come for you." in which Karen hurt and taken by a villain and Frank is enraged."  [Established relationship; warning: explicit sexual content]

But you’re the truth AO3 | Tumblr Tumblr prompt: Frank patches Karen up after she's hurt because of a job and goes after the people who harmed her. Romantic-ish Special appearence: Max, the Pitbull [Companion piece/prequel to For I can’t help falling]

For I can’t help falling AO3 | Tumblr Tumblr prompt: After Frank leaves his hesitation aside, he gets skin hungy   [Companion piece/sequel to But you’re the truth] 

Have you seen my best friend? AO3 | Tumblr Karen finds a dinosaur toy in the subway.  [Everybody lives AU, feat. an adorable Lisa; warning: explicit sexual content]

Hungry AO3 | Tumblr She fought it. With everything she had, she fought it. Karen can only fight for so long.  [Companion piece/sequel to Never Had; warning: explicit sexual content]

Karen AO3 | Tumblr Prompt: someone hurts Karen and Frank hunts them down. As he is at it, he realizes his feelings for her  [Warning: off-screen attempted rape]

Never Had AO3 | Tumblr How can you mourn the loss of something - someone - that was never truly yours?  [Angsty Matt POV, one-sided Karedevil; companion piece/prequel to Hungry]

Not Pete AO3 | Tumblr * She doesn't like the new name  [Post-Punisher s1; warning: sexual content]

Ordinary People AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2, Deleted Scenes) Prompt: Best friends who are the Old Married Couple but fail to notice they're falling in love until is too late.  [AU]

Pour AO3 | Tumblr * She pulled his boots off him before they finished the first glass. They now sat under the couch, forgotten.  [Warning: sexual content]

Second Night AO3 | Tumblr Tumblr prompt: Frank shows up drunk at Karen's door, and she's on edge, because she has dated a few unpleasant-when-drunk men.  [Companion piece/prequel to Bodies make it perfect]

What do you want AO3 | Tumblr Tumblr promt: Karen accidentaly discovers Frank has a hair pulling kink. She sees an opportunity, she seizes it.  [Established relationship; warning: explicit sexual content]

Ejunkiet 

dilaudid AO3 This isn’t the first time Frank has shown up on her doorstep in the early hours of the morning, but this is the first time that he’d been extended an invitation. 

feel it still AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2) w/ evil bunny wolf (evil_bunny_king)  Karen’s legs are unsteady as she makes her way to the bathroom to knock on the door, fingers curling against the wood as she hears the water stop, before Frank’s voice croaks through the door. “What is it?” She has to swallow twice before she can get the words out. “Someone knows you’re here.” [Post-Defenders; WIP]

(in our bedroom) after the war AO3 When Karen had received the invitation from WNEX station to speak on Trish Talk, the most popular radio talk show in the city, her first instinct had been to say no. – “With all due respect ma’am, that’s bullshit. Most people, see, wouldn’t be so easy to let the other things” – murder and brutality, bodies littering the floor of the diner and blood on her hands and face – "go. They don’t seek to understand them. They get one good look, and get the hell away.”

meet me in the woods AO3 * Frank doesn’t wait for them to break the lock – he kicks the door open and slams into the first body he makes contact with behind it, lashing out in a blur of kicks and punches. The intruder falls back, face bloody, and then Frank’s gone, and Karen is left alone, crouched beneath her bed like a five year old hiding from the monsters in her closet, except that she’s no longer a child, and now she has a gun. -- Frank turns up on her doorstep on a Tuesday night and stays until Friday. [Part 1 of the corvidae & whiskey series]

elizma_c*

Flight from the City AO3 | Tumblr What are you doing, Karen? she thinks. He might not even be here. Would he even want to see her? What if – The door beside her suddenly swings open. Of course he senses her right away, even as she’s sort of hidden behind the door. He actually puts a hand to his lower back, and she realizes he’s carrying. Of course. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, but there’s surprise in his tone. “Karen.” Even with the questionably overloaded vital signs her body is displaying, she gets the sickest sense of pleasure that she’s gotten the jump on Frank Castle.

What You Know AO3 | Tumblr “When reality feels like its slipping away, hold on to those things that you know are true. You have to focus on what you know.” What did Karen know? Karen knows that she likes to read on the subway. She likes wearing heels that click on the sidewalk. Karen hates exercising but is apparently not a fan of therapy, so she goes running on Saturday mornings. She keeps a .380 in her purse and a pot of dying roses in her window. She has a track record for falling in love with the wrong people. She is fine. She repeats the list in her head each morning when she wakes up, until her hands stop shaking and the knots in her stomach go away.

evil bunny wolf (evil_bunny_king) / devilbunnyking

author our own disasters AO3 | Tumblr Frank Castle’s flesh is a litany to disaster. – Karen and Frank meet again for the first time since that final showdown on the rooftop. It doesn’t go as planned. [Part 2 of the you make me feel so criminal series] 

feel it still AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2) w/ Ejunkiet  Karen’s legs are unsteady as she makes her way to the bathroom to knock on the door, fingers curling against the wood as she hears the water stop, before Frank’s voice croaks through the door. "What is it?” She has to swallow twice before she can get the words out. “Someone knows you’re here.” [Post-Defenders; WIP]

Graves AO3 Frank Castle - had cared. He’d broken himself caring; he’d loved with a heart she’d only glimpsed beneath his darkness, broken and bleeding as it was. She refused to believe that that man could be gone. [Part 1 of the you make me feel so criminal series]

Pacific Swells AO3 | Tumblr It’s not morbid curiosity. She’d be easier to scare away, if it were – he could play the part, flog away another shred of his humanity to dangle before her and ask ‘is this what you wanted? This what you wanted to see?’  [WIP; part 3 of the you make me feel so criminal series]

Perihelion AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1) “I’ve had, I’ve had a hell of a week, but that, I think, might’ve been part of the worst of it.” She clears her throat, and then again, drawing her knees in. Her eyes shine a little in the lamplight. “Yeah. I was scared too. For you.” -- Frank visits Karen, after. [Post-Punisher s1]

Touch AO3 | Tumblr  “Why are you here?” he settles on, instead. Her hand moves to the marks on his neck, thumb grazing his adam’s apple. “Because I made a choice. And now I’m making another.” [Part 4 of the you make me feel so criminal series] 

The Twist AO3 | Tumblr Frank finds Karen trussed up in the back of a van in Queens.  [Kidnapping, protective!Frank]

glycerineclown* 

glutton for punishment AO3 | Tumblr If she wants it, it's not a punishment.  [Warning: explicit sexual content] 

Operation Spot AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2) A stocky grey pit bull peeks out from the mouth of the first alley that Karen passes. It's Frank, but she doesn't know it yet. [Shapeshifter AU]

Ordinary Citizens AO3 | Tumblr Rawlins’ fist had really done a number on Frank, and he has to get some teeth pulled a few days later. Karen takes him home, after, for rest and mothering. He stays longer than he has to—long enough to figure a few things out.  [Warning: explicit sexual content]

idekman / hipsterfrankcastle

around the world my body will roam (my soul’s in new york) AO3 | Tumblr She gets two blankets, one for each of them, and sits out there with him until the sun rises. Frank moves into Karen’s apartment. She dreams. [Punisher speculation]

my girl is tall with hard long eyes AO3 | Tumblr  He returns the book the next day. She’s asleep, curled up on her sofa, the window shut. She looks so small like this, fragile and vulnerable and not at all like the electric force of nature she is in waking. 

this is all I ever was AO3 | Tumblr  'I always thought you liked tulips.' Karen takes the pot of roses from him, places it gingerly back on the windowsill. He listens to her fiddle with it, twist it this way and that – finding the best spot for it in the sun, he realises. 'Maybe. Before.' - prompt: kastle through matt's eyes  [Post-Punisher s1]

jazzonia 

come upstairs but not to talk AO3 Frank comes to her straight from the firefight.  [Warning: explicit sexual content; part 1 of the we’re always alright series]

don’t care about your intentions AO3 Karen’s world is upended when Matt reveals his identity to her. Frank helps her right it again.  [Warning: explicit sexual content; part 2 of the we’re always alright series]

LaMorenaReina 

Ascendancy AO3  Karen Page's relationship with control becomes all the more tenuous as she explores a singular and inconclusive friendship with Frank Castle, wages her own war against Wilson Fisk, and has to start answering some unwanted questions about her past that lead to new conclusions about her identity. 

Re-Entry AO3 Frank shows up again and causes trouble because he’s Frank. Karen goes along with it because, well, she’s Karen. They have adult conversations because, honestly, they should.  [Punisher speculation]  

PurpleLex / shipsabound

bloodsport AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2) two-part tumblr prompt: "A baddie is threatening/hurting Karen in front of a tied up Frank. And he’s raging?” [Protective!Frank, h/c; warning: mature content, description of torture/violence]

during the dark and storming nights AO3 | Tumblr Frank POV retelling of “the space between dreams and reality”  The concrete columns echo again with the second gunshot and he stands there for a minute on shaky feet, disgust and satisfaction twisting and warring against each other within his gut. The satisfaction doesn’t last long, yanked from him harshly when he climbs back into his truck and hears the radio abuzz over a shooting at the tenement building on 47th. Two women sustain injuries — one Sophia Rossum, and one Karen Page. He forgets to breathe for a long minute. [Part 3 of the Dreams & Lasts series] 

fourteen weeks AO3 | Tumblr tumblr prompt: “something where Frank has a dog and because said dog has pretty much adopted Karen as his second owner, Karen often times takes care of the dog when he’s away/busier than usual. And it doesn’t take long for someone to start putting two and two together about who the dogs main owner is." 

leaving is my last option AO3 | Tumblr Kastle Week Prompt: Lasts Frank rakes his gaze over her entire form, like he’s trying to decipher her. She shifts. He has a way of making her feel like every inch of her soul is being seen, and it’s as much something she longs for as something she’s insecure about. “Sooner or later, you’re going to burn out,” he says, tone flat. “How are you going to take care of yourself then? Defend yourself?” A bitter smile curves her lips. “I could say the same thing about you.” [Part 2 of the Dreams & Lasts series] 

meet me in the woods AO3 | Tumblr tumblr prompt: "I would DIE if you wrote a couple of scenes where Karen army trains with Frank. I could TOTALLY see Frank being like, "You can’t get involved in the extra dangerous stuff unless you at least let me train you.” Imagine them running in the mornings??? Karen getting into crazy shape and the tension between them intensifying???“ 

shine a light through the distance AO3 | Tumblr “You sure about that?” He asks, incredulous, but she doesn’t give an inch. “You help me, you’ll only get blood on your hands.” “I already have blood on my hands.” She almost had his on hers half a year ago by force of a bullet. He put his blood on her hands just a month ago by force of a plea. “Doesn’t mean you need any more,” is all he says before opening the door. [Part 4 of the Dreams & Lasts series] 

the space between dreams and reality AO3 | Tumblr Kastle Week Prompt: Dreams He stands in her apartment, by the door, but it is closed this time, and no bullets are coming through her windows. Her gun is in her hand, though, gripped loose from where it hangs at her side. “Why?” She asks. It’s a whisper of a loaded question. He doesn’t respond, just stares at her, gaze too unreadable. Karen wakes with a frustrated sigh. [Part 1 of the Dreams & Lasts series]

untitled Tumblr  [Can you do a prompt where Micro yells at Karen and Frank gets the in his face. I literally be for protective!Frank 😂💕] [Punisher speculation]

PunkyNemo / thevampirecat

As days go by, the night’s on fire AO3 | Tumblr She’s lost him, she’s found him and she’s lost him again. And now he’s standing on her fire escape, holding out his hand and looking at her like she’s the only thing on Earth worth seeing.  [Canon-divergent AU; part 2 of the Ballads for a dead man series]

Be my saviour and I’ll be your downfall AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1) Once upon a time she derided herself for imagining they were a done deal on a collision course straight to her bedroom. But that’s all over now and he’s gone, hasn’t been back since he walked off her roof and disappeared into the night air. It’s not all bad though. She has friends, she has work and tonight she even has cause to celebrate. It is, after all, her birthday and there’s a chance the universe will be kind. It’s just a chance though. And not a very good one.  [Canon-divergent AU; warning: explicit sexual content; part 3 of the Ballads for a dead man series; WIP]

The bullet you never saw coming AO3 | FFN | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) There are days that he wonders if he’s the worst man on Earth. And then there are the days that he doesn’t need to wonder. But, worst man or not, she’s here, sitting on his couch and crying like the world is ending. And he has no idea how to feel about that. Except he does. He really does. [Canon-divergent AU; warning: explicit sexual content]

Can you wait while the world circles the sun? AO3  It’s hard when you can’t take her out - when you’re The Punisher and the world can’t know she’s your girl. But he can make it up to her, make it right … even if he’s not really sure what it is that he’s wanting.  [Warning: implied sexual content]

Could you crawl out of your perfect skin and climb into mine? AO3 | Tumblr * It's just a hug, so why does it feel like it's so much more?  [Frank POV, The Hug]

Love me back to life AO3 | FFN | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2) He can keep her safe. It’s the one thing he knows how to do, the only thing he can truly give her. So why does it feel like it’s not enough?

You’re a ghost town (and maybe I’m a ghost) AO3 | FFN | Tumblr Safe up in the mountains with Frank following a bloody showdown in Hell’s Kitchen, Karen wonders just how much more complicated things between them can get. She’s about to find out.  [Canon-divergent AU; part 1 of the Ballads for a dead man series; I cry about this series in the best way, it’s long and plotty and UST-y and so so great]

queensofthekastle / StellarRequiem & homesickblues 

For Whom There are No Words AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1) Originally inspired by the prompt “Frank protecting Karen after Fisk finds out she killed Wesley.” A dialogue-driven slow burn exploring their relationship through conversation, spaghetti dates, two incidents involving vodka, and a whole lot of back and forth between who Frank is, and what Frank does.  [Canon-divergent AU; protective!Frank, slow-burn]

Nowhere to Go but Everywhere AO3 * Karen has some emotional recovery to do, Frank is still working on "after," and all along the east-west interstate, someone has been abducting children and wiping all record of the disappearances. ** The roadtrip fic has arrived [Roadtrip AU; fake married, sharing a bed]

untitled Tumblr [based on the new trailer (which shook us to the core tbh)] [Punisher speculation]

untitled Tumblr [Kastle+forced to share a bed (best trope ever)]

untitled Tumblr [kastle prompt fill: “matt and frank having a conversation about karen”] [Canon-divergent AU]

untitled Tumblr [OOOH! What about holding their unconscious body WHILST sobbing into their shoulder/chest ] [Punisher speculation]

samssalvation / jonbernhthal 

one day Tumblr prompt: between the explosion and the elevator 

weak knees AO3 | Tumblr  prompt: karen tripping and falling into frank's arms

SecondFromTheRight 

All We Do Is Hide Away AO3  But when she opened the door to him that night with a “Frank”, her lip trembling as she stared at him – her eyes were already red from crying and she looked tired – he wondered how much that mattered. He knew what Karen Page looked like crying and breathing – or yelling – his name, he knew what she looked like with blood on her, but he didn’t know who Ben Urich was to her. He kind of hated himself for that. And for a man used to self-contempt, this dose noticeably burned.  [Post-Punisher s1]

The Sounds She Makes AO3 * Now, now that he’s had her, had this. Something good and something he feels part of it. Now that he’s remembered life and something he’s terrified could be love - he can go out with Karen on his lips, in his lungs, with her saying his name in his ear. He can go out swaying in this elevator with her, her forehead against his. The elevator scene goes a little differently (they have sex) [Warning: explicit sexual content]

watermelonp00fs 

shooting stars in a jar AO3 * Frank doesn’t visit Karen, after. Not really. But the flowers are there by her window — everyday, for weeks, months — until one day they aren’t. She’s stopped going to the river for a while now, too. Not that he blames her for it. Cut the threads loose, toss the baggage she’s carried all this time into the goddamn ocean — He’s alright with it, all of it. Then, one evening she goes home with a man he’s never laid eyes on, carefree laughs and cheeky smiles — and Frank should be, must be alright with this because God knows she deserves happiness that he cannot interfere with — Except he isn’t.

the world on its axis AO3  Inhale. Exhale. “I’m scared, Karen.” Rough. Guttural. He hated how weak he sounded. “I’m gonna forget her voice.” His shoulders sagged from the weight of his guilt. Frank Castle — the man who took a woman to bed and cried to that woman about his dead wife. What a joke. What a fucking joke. A low hum sounded in the back of Karen’s throat as she stroked the line of his back, gentle and understanding and oh he did not deserve her — “I know,” she murmured and kissed his shoulder. “I know.” Inhale. Exhale. [Part 2 of the like diamonds in the sky series]

Wynn / astreetcarnamedwynn

One Worth Knowing AO3 | FFN | Tumblr The message arrives in an innocuous envelope, a plain white one marked only with her name and the address of The Bulletin, the two scrawled on the front in thick black ink. Karen doesn’t even have to open it to know it’s from him, from Frank, though almost eight months have passed since she last saw him.  [UST; warning: adult content; part 1 of the One Worth series]

One Worth Trusting AO3 | Tumblr  Frank presses the first speed dial and, a couple seconds later, her phone rings in her purse. Karen doesn’t bother asking how he knew her number. She just stares at him instead, caught between irritation at his actions and understanding for the impulse behind them. And if that didn’t sum up her feelings for Frank Castle, the man a murderer but one she understood. The man in question watches her, his brow furrowed but his jaw set, Frank willing to throw down over this, his efforts to keep her safe.Sighing again, Karen points to the kitchenette behind him. “If you’re so willing to do things for me, why don’t you pour me a drink? I’m going to get changed.”His face softens, nearly into a smile. “Yes, ma’am.” A continuation of "One Worth Knowing." Frank accepts Karen's invitation to come by her apartment for a drink. All goes well until it doesn't, until truths are revealed and revelations made. [UST, kisses, & angst; part 2 of the One Worth series]

Yggdra / favrielle

Bluest Skies Of Mourning Light AO3 It’s Karen’s birthday. The Punisher is caught unaware by his own legacy.  [Fluff]

On Hallowed Ground I Stay AO3 He never says "I love you”, but whispers every word of it in all the spaces Karen Page leaves for him in her life.  [Fluff]

Paint Your Demons Red AO3 | Tumblr Frank Castle tries to keep Karen Page at arm’s length and out of danger. (Really, he does.) She has other ideas about what safety means. [Post-Defenders]

She Who Believeth In Me AO3 Her brightness touches everything he lays eyes on. And he can’t shake her no matter how hard he tries. [Part 1 of the all the devils series]

untitled Tumblr  [kastle prompt: after the explosion scene, frank takes karen back to his and micro’s hideout. possibly a shower scene (doesn’t have to be sexual) where frank is comforting karen because she took another life while looking out for frank as they were making their escape.] [Punisher speculation]

untitled Tumblr  [plllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllssssssssssss write a fic where Karen and Frank go back to his hideout to patch each other up after the explosion scenes 😙] [Punisher speculation]

Misc.

Been with the Devil in the Devil’s Resting Place AO3 by Amazing_E_ko  The development of Karen and Frank’s relationship from Matt’s perspective, as his own life goes slowly downhill.  [POV Matt, not exactly kind to him but in a fun, vindictive sort of way if you’re into that lol]

Heaven Sent the Saints Down (Hell Sent Them Up) AO3 | Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4) by Ambrosia  But no, yes, the Punisher. In her apartment. Staring at her with an unfazed expression on his face. Even from the doorway, she can see the white skull painted on his chest-piece. And this is somehow so normal for her, at this stage of her life, that she honestly takes one look at Frank, at the bruises on his face, at all his gear spread around her apartment, and says, “Okay. It’s 11:07. I haven’t eaten yet. I’m going to order some dim sum from the corner and you are not going to get any of that gun oil on my bed.”

It is So Quite New a Thing AO3 by an_ardent_rain  He realizes, as he is about to order, that there is one other thing he has besides his grief and his anger and his never-ending war. That there is something that helps him remember, that reminds him who he used to be. He orders a second cup to go and writes “Page” in blocky letters on the side.  [WIP]

don’t fade away AO3 by consultingpathologist* As she unlatches the window to bring the flowers inside, she realizes the yellow is from a piece of paper wedged in between the stems.  [Episode tag]

When you drown, I'll drown AO3 by ebethjanna* His voice is gruff, "Not gonna point a loaded gun at you, Karen." (Two missing moments from 1x10.)

Better Natures AO3 by etirabys “Work with me here, Frank,” Karen snapped. “Make some sense here. Talk to me. We can’t figure out what our next move is until you explain why you’re so disgusted at the thought of my being attracted to you — an attraction which, by the way, I’ve never let interfere with our work or our friendship —“ “I’m not disgusted,” Frank said in a strained, calm voice. “You have ghastly taste, but I’m not disgusted. No. It’s just the feeling of having carried a torch for miles and miles in the dark and… having the sun come up.” [Zombie AU with a side of Fake Married feat. HellaBadass!Karen; warning: explicit sexual content of the dom/sub variety; this fic is everything to me READ IT]

loss like the sharp edges of a knife Tumblr (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5) by fandammit* [The stillness of after is suffocating.] [Frank POV, post-Punisher; one of my current favorite fics]

moth and flame AO3 | Tumblr by freedomatsea  Liquid courage and exhaustion lead Frank to reach out to Karen after months of keeping away from her. Set post-finale about 6-8 months. Frank’s POV.  [Warning: explicit sexual content]

The Fall AO3 by ghoulsngunz  “I need a favor.” A favor? Karen crossed her arms over her chest. She had to be dreaming. There was no way that after three months of silence the Punisher would be standing in her kitchen asking for a favor. “What kind of favor?” Frank rubbed his temples. “I need you to help me find my dog.” [WIP]

Elevator Songs AO3 | Tumblr by Inaccessible Rail (strangetales)  A series of drabbles or shorter works that I've posted on Tumblr about my two trauma buds in probable love.  [WIP]

But I Wish It Was True AO3 by Ideal_Flower* The first time it happened, he was hit with white hot shame. But there was no bullet, no gunshot, no shattering of golden hair and spray of brain and blood and guilt on the wall, on the side of his face. Just her mouth on him, his hand on her, his fingers tangled through the cornsilk strands at the nape of her neck.  [Warning: explicit sexual content]

United We Purge AO3 | Tumblr by Jenye "Just remember all the good the purge does.” – Evil runs Hell’s Kitchen, but one night out of the year that evil is legal.  [Purge AU]

Come For You AO3 by larkingstock* Pretty much what the tags say. (I'm so sorry. I wanted it, I wrote it, and if I can figure out the rest I'm probably going to write that too.) (Also so so sorry for the title.) [Sex pollen fic; warning: explicit sexual content, WIP; honestly I am enjoying this fic so fucking much]

You Carry My Heart On Your Sleeve AO3 by Morrigan2345  The first thought that comes to mind when her door opens and she’s standing in front of him in what could only be the tightest black dress he’s ever seen is that she looks good. Really good. The second thought is that he shouldn’t have thought that. The third thought is that he couldn’t give less of a shit. [Warning: explicit sexual content]

the root of the root and the bud of the bud AO3 by nagia* There's a new drug in town, a warehouse full of dead shitbags (and newly empty of a strange, tropical-looking flower), and Karen Page has the kind of connections that might help him figure out what this shit is.  [Sex pollen fic; warning: explicit sexual content]

ain’t nothing but a monster AO3 by nighimpossible “Is this okay?” she asks, the question just a murmur in the dark.  “You’re already close enough to hurt me,” Frank says finally, after chewing on the thought for a long moment. “So hurt me.” [Warning: mature content]

hail, holy queen AO3 by peppermintcas  He kisses her and it’s like setting a building on fire: he knows it’s a bad idea, intellectually, but everything in him is pushing him to do it.  [Warning: explicit sexual content]

Strays AO3 by Ruby_Wren* Frank finds out what happened to his dog. 

The End of the Line AO3 by ruebellab  They say there’s a ghost - that he’s a dead man, but Miss Karen’s seen enough to know one thing. Dead men don’t feel, they don’t hurt, they don’t care - so if there’s a man out there, she knows he ain’t a ghost, he’s broken maybe but he’s not dead. [Western AU; WIP]

Fall On Your Knees AO3 by saltandbyrne* She keeps the flowers in her window for three days.  [Warning: explicit sexual content]

windowsill AO3 by shuofthewind  Eight weeks, three days. She's going to punch him in his fucking nose. The fic that fixes the lack of Karen at the end of The Punisher. [Post-Punisher s1; UST]

Of Gods and Monsters AO3 | Tumblr by silbecoo Frank is the God of the Underworld, quietly ushering honorable souls to the Elysian Fields while ensuring the evil ones start their time in Tartarus as soon as possible. He doesn’t want or need anyone to care about, until one day the beautiful Daughter of Demeter needs him. He can’t ignore his fate, and neither can she.  [Yup it’s the Hades&Persephone AU you were waiting for; WIP]

A Hard Rain AO3 by smolhombre* When he starts over this time, Frank tries to mean it. An after; for people who don't believe in them. [Warning: explicit sexual content; WIP]

the floodgates need repair AO3 by stainofmylove* Karen struggles to put the pieces back together again. Post “I’m already dead,” basically. 

moving on AO3 by thecoolestfreak* “I’m going to break the truth over Fisk’s head, sure. But I need the backup to do it. Capable parties.” She said it as she’d rehearsed it in her head, and she winced at how unsympathetic it sounded out loud. “Y’need canon fodder, that it?” he said, and she almost spit out the wine she’d nervously poured in her mouth. “God, no! Frank, that’s not— I’m—" He laughed, a small chuckle, but a laugh, and if he were here she would punch him in the arm.“I’ll do it, Karen. Where and when do you need me?” post the punisher s1 & the defenders s1 - the gang fights fisk, but its basically a kastle fic

elevator AO3 by thefudge 1x10. The elevator scene, but with a much needed addition. 

but shrapnel is shrapnel AO3 by theworthofhollin  It starts like this: Karen gets a dog.  [WIP]

to arm your fears like soldiers and slay them AO3 | FFN | Tumblr by viansian  Karen had gotten over the whole “soulmates” hype when she was thirteen years old, and she didn’t plan on getting swept up in that shitstorm again anytime soon. aka the soulmate fic you knew was coming. [Soulmates AU]

Sentimentality AO3 by writesometimes* She stood in front of the windows and scanned the darkening New York skyline. The dark concrete, steel and glass of tall buildings blending with the inky indigo sky. There was no way she'd spot him if he was out there somewhere, but Karen knew. Frank was alive. 

Ain’t about what I like AO3 | Tumblr by zombieboyband Before the diner, after the gunfire. City nights, late drives, looking for coffee with Frank. Karen is too tired for easy questions. “Pardon, ma'am?” He sounds so goddamn polite it’s incredible. “The meat hooks. The part where you killed people and put them on meat hooks.” [Missing scene]

→OTHER  

On tumblr: kastlelibrary, kastlenetwork, kastlesource, queensofthekastle, thecrimescenejunkie

People with good Kastle tags: afigureofspeech, carry-the-sky, frankcastle, hipsterfrankcastle, likcoln, mazikeene, shipsabound, theworthofhollin

On AO3: the Frank Castle/Karen Page tag

Updated 12/19/17