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ryverbind · 8 months ago

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Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): The Path We Tread [25]

Sal's freshly folded Breaking Benjamin hoodie is soft in my hands. I haven't washed it, but I figured I'd return it after accidentally stuffing it into my bag the other night.

I set it on top of the cat carrier that's prepped and housing a cheerful Gizmo who purrs like a fully powered motorboat. And he's too cute, too happy to see me, so I grin down at the orange feline and brace one hand on Sal's car door and lean down to give the little guy some scratches.

He purrs against my hand, big green eyes closed as he shoves his head into my palm and basically pets himself. I can't help but huff out a laugh, smile widening because of the little fur ball.

Yesterday, The Faces and I spent the day visiting with Henry and Lisa. Since they aren't moving to LA with us, considering they have their music store here, we wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. Especially Larry and Sal.

"Are you done coddling my cat?" Sal gripes behind me. I sigh a bit disappointedly, rubbing under Gizmo's chin before zipping the carrier closed.

Turning to the cat dad, I back away from the black Camaro. Sal gives me a not-so-serious glare before placing himself in my previous spot, snatching the hoodie I'd just laid down and unfolding it. So particular.

"He likes my coddling," I murmur, tipping my head to the side as I peer at Sal both out of curiosity and admiration. The sun beating down on him, illuminating all the shades of blue in his hair. It's still chilly here, Nockfell's norm.

Which explains why Sal starts pulling the hoodie over his head, but I still have to try my best not to gape. What happened to him being terrified of my cooties?

"No one likes your coddling," he responds, deadpan.

I regard him nonchalantly, pursing my lips. "Your mom does."

Sal's eyes go wide, the action setting off a warpath of alarm bells in my head. I watch him warily, but then the corners of his eyes crinkle and he whips his head away from me to choke on a... giggle.

My mouth twitches in a smile that I desperately attempt to stomp down. His laughter is so symphonic, so heavenly, so rare. Worst of all, it's infectious. And, most concerning, the joke wasn't that funny. So I hesitantly inquire, "What?"

Sal takes a breath, tucking a strand of cobalt hair behind his ear. Like he's purposefully trying to display that damned dagger that haunts my every sleeping and waking moment. "There's a punchline to that joke," he croons, eyes alight with such mischief that I brace myself, hold my breath.

"My mother is dead."

The breath I held punches past my lips, expelled in a gag-cough tag team on my lungs, my throat, my fucking brain. My cheeks flush scarlet, the warmth of my embarrassment rippling through my body. Sweat beads at my forehead as utter dread courses through me.

His mom is dead?

"I— I'm sorry, I didn't—" I sputter, rushing to get the apology out as soon as possible. Because, while I wouldn't bat an eye if my own mother left this plane of existence for eternity, I certainly would if my father did.

Sal shakes his head, eyes shutting and head tilting forward as if to say he accepts my apology. "You didn't know," he says nonchalantly. "Besides, it's nice not to have to talk about her so seriously. I wish people didn't tiptoe around the topic."

"They tiptoe for a reason," I hiss, although halfheartedly. I'm just relieved he isn't suddenly snapping at my heels with rage again. "Because it is serious."

Sal shrugs, a calm and relaxed glow to his cerulean gaze. For once. I almost forget that he's public enemy number one for a moment. "Yea, well," he sighs dramatically, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Gave me a reason to scare the shit out of you again. Seeing you ready to kiss my feet and beg for forgiveness is just such a lovely sight."

He does all of this on purpose. And screw him for using me as his comedic act constantly. "Suck it, Fisher," I sneer, feeling the terror in my veins finally transform into muted contempt. The anger isn't so bad, not like it used to be.

His gaze snaps to me, and just like every other time we look at each other, I can't tell what he's feeling as he murmurs, "So long as you consent."

I gulp, ditching what wrathful thoughts had gathered in my fortress of a mind. It's all quickly replaced with a throbbing in my very bones, another tinge of color to my cheeks, and a wild replay of all the times he had his head buried between my legs recently.

Hands clamp down on my shoulders and I flinch with the agility of a cat who just lost it's second to last life-- since Sal has taken all my other damn lives.

"Hey, angel," Ash coos from behind. I peek over my shoulder to see her grinning down at me. But her happy expression doesn't quite meet her eyes. "Sal's going to drop us off at the airport. As much as you two live to hate and loathe each other, we need to talk."

Oh, no. Oh, fuck. We need to talk? That statement never, ever ends well. Does she know about us? Is she about to kick me out of the group— or Sal? Or is there going to be this brutally mortifying conversation about how she knows but she'd never tell anyone and she absolutely requires an invite to the wedding?

I suppress a shudder.

Instead, I purse my lips, tongue cemented to the roof of my mouth as every one of my four limbs goes completely rigid. "I'd rather hotbox in a car full of Larry's farts," I declare, more than ready to do just that. He ate about half his body weight in tamales last night.

Ash's eyes go wide, her brows furrowing as a guilty smirk quirks her lips. "You would rather—" she cuts herself off, shaking her head and looking up at the sky to avoid the giggles she would no doubt conjure up if she looked at me for too much longer. "Just get in the car, y/n," she commands, voice wavering with hidden laughter.

I look back to Sal and take note of the lack of color in his eyes. Seconds ago, they were bright and full of mirth. Now... they're empty. Grave. Numb.

It snaps a little bit of clarity into me, so I do as Ash said and climb into his back seat, right beside Gizmo who chirps a greeting to me. I give the orange cat a smile as Ash shuts my door, but I'm roiling with too much anxiety to do more than that.

Ash is about to have a meeting with me and Sal. The three of us. She's either going to ball us out for fighting so much, or she knows that we're fucking. And if it's neither of those, then I don't know what else it could be. I think the unknown scares me more than the other options.

Ash plops herself into the passenger seat, using the 'oh-shit' handle to adjust herself before shutting her door and buckling. She throws her head over her shoulder, grinning at me. "So," she says giddily as Sal climbs into the driver's seat. "Hot rod, old ass, family heirloom. How are we feeling?"

I raise an eyebrow that she can't see. "It's a car."

"And a treasure," she finishes thoughts I did not have, watching me with eyes that say I should cherish this gift of a ride. "How are you not tweaking with excitement? This thing is older than you!"

"Because it's a car," I repeat, narrowing my eyes at her. I don't want to kill her short-lived joy, but I'm too paranoid.

The car suddenly roars to life and maybe— for a split second— I understand Ash's elation. It might be older than my grandpa (bless his heart) but it purrs like a newborn kitten. I'll give it that much.

Sal mumbles something I can't hear then situates his hand on the back of Ash's headrest, head peering over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. His eyes meet mine for a short moment before they avert to the window, making sure Henry's car is down the road before beginning to back up.

Oh, if I was Ash with his hand behind my head like that, I'd be feeling a lot of things. Horny being the most prevalent. I definitely wouldn't admit that though.

"Hey," Ash mutters, eyes on Sal who switches gears and begins driving behind his dad. "Are you... are you sure?"

So it's something they both know about? A spear of unease slashes through my gut, a clear reminder of this conversation we're about to have. The acknowledgement of it makes the inside of Sal's car grow thick with tension. It's almost unbearable— even Gizmo's purring has halted.

"Just get it over with," Sal grumbles, eyes on the road and fingers wrapped around the steering wheel.

I swallow thickly, watching the way Sal completely checks out of reality. Something about his position, his unblinking gaze tells me he's drifted somewhere foreign. He isn't here right now— he's simply driving.

"Okay," Ash whispers before turning to me. Her glossy lips are stretched into a tight line, a shadow of grief darkening her angelic features. "Listen," she starts, normally light and airy tone morphed into something a bit apprehensive, sad. "I'm not going to get into the details of this because it's not my story to tell. But Sal, Larry, Todd, and I agreed that it would be in everyone's best interest to give you a heads up... and somewhat of an explanation."

I swipe my tongue along the seam of my lips, my mouth suddenly dry with the worry that skitters along my spine. I say nothing, simply wait for her to continue.

"We are moving to LA to be closer to opportunities, and since it's more fitting for our streaming careers," She tells me, viridian gaze zeroed in on mine. "But there's another, more pressing reason as to why we're moving."

I nod along, waiting, biting my tongue in nervous anticipation. This is where I crumble to ruins, right? When every bad decision I've made comes crashing down around me. I mentally brace myself, fingers closing around the door handle a bit tighter.

"There's a... woman." Sal's hands tighten around the steering wheel, unknowingly mimicking my own actions. "She really hurt Sal. She was put in prison for two years, but... she's being released next week. We don't want Sal to be near her, nor do we want to be near her."

Every bit of air leaves my lungs upon hearing Ash's words. Two years? What the hell did she do to him? I glance at Sal through his rearview mirror, noting how he stares disinterestedly through the windshield.

A kind of emotion I can't quite explain rushes through me. It's understanding, shared grief, fury, sorrow. None of it is aimed at him. It's for him. And part of me aches to avenge him, to find this girl and make her hurt the way she made him hurt.

The truth of it is painful, like some part of me is slowly being ripped apart from my body. It's all so unfamiliar. I can't understand why I feel so strongly about it, especially since I don't even know what this unknown woman has done. The sudden influx of emotions and undeciphered realization that's suddenly hit me overpowers every one of my brain neurons, but I make quick work to try and break everything down.

Now, I understand why he was willing to give me anything so long as I agreed to sex the other night. It was as much of an escape for him as it was for me. I wasn't the only one who needed a distraction.

I feel everything so deeply right now, and assessing the depth of all this emotion makes me realize that I must care for Sal a lot more than I originally thought I did.

Ash lets me mull over the information before speaking again. I feel my heart rumbling, echoing through the hollowness in my chest as she spills more to me.

"The reason we're telling you this at all is specifically because there are people shipping you and Sal together online. Of course, the focus on whatever the hell is going on with you and North has taken some of the heat away from you and Sal— but there's still enough going around that it's worth warning you." I suck in a shaky breath. "This woman has been known to target other women who have a close relationship to Sal. It's all via stalking online and harassment, but it's something I don't want you to have to go through. Something none of us want you to go through."

I'd take it all if it meant I'd get to enact revenge. For myself. For Sal. For both of us. I don't know.

Ash must see it on my face; the tidal wave of emotions that keep crashing into me relentlessly. She gives me a knowing look, a sad smile as if to say she understands. "So, keep us in the know, okay?" She says sweetly, reaching back with her hand, opening it for me. I blink, clutching her warm palm in mine. "If anyone messages you and it's really shitty, or if Sal is mentioned or something, tell us. We'll figure it out." She squeezes my hand, thumb running over my skin. "You aren't alone."

My eyes flit over to Sal again, trying to catch his gaze in the mirror. It almost seems as if he's avoiding me. I try to tell myself it's because he's driving, obviously, but it doesn't feel that way. He doesn't even bother to check if there are any cars behind us, just robotically stares ahead with the air condition gently ruffling his hair. Sleeping with Sirens softly playing on his radio.

My gaze drifts to him throughout the rest of our thirty minute drive to the airport right outside of Nockfell. I can't help myself. Can't help the weight that burdens me.

Eventually, Sal looks down from the windshield to shift his car to park once we get into the parking lot. Then he looks to Ash, gestures for her to get out of the car. And Ash, ever the goddess, snorts before opening her door.

I turn to Gizmo, stick my finger through a slit in his carrier, and scratch under his chin before parting ways, preparing to leave through the door that Ash has opened for me.

"Okay," Ash sighs, a cheery lilt in her voice. "Enough of the bad, more of the rad. It's moving time."

Sal throws open his door before it can even fully unlatch, a man desperate to escape the horrors of his past. The sight causes a twinge of pain in my chest, but I ignore it. I can contemplate this conversation when I'm safe on our plane and have nothing better to do.

I warily walk into the parking lot, surfacing beside Larry who has a blanket bunched in his arms and a pair of headphones around his neck. Something tells me his flight is going to be nice.

Larry takes note of me and throws an arm over my shoulder, offering me a sleepy grin that I try my best to fully return The comfort of his somewhat embrace is needed though. I'm still feeling the whiplash of the conversation I sat in on for the ride here.

I gently grab Larry's wrist and hold on, his thumb comfortingly rubbing over the inside of my palm.

"I think I've got everyone's bags ready to go," Henry says with a little sigh, hands on his hips and cheeks colored pink from handling everyone's luggage. I spot the backpack I came with and watch as Neil scoops it up, throwing a strap over his shoulder.

"I can't believe we're leaving," Ash mutters from beside me, frowning at Henry and Lisa. Her parents didn't come along to tell her goodbye. I hadn't asked her about it because the stress of moving is already enough on her shoulders, but I can't begin to imagine how painful the situation must be for her. I remember how tough it was for me to realize my mom didn't want to be a part of my life anymore-- at least, she 'wanted' to be a minuscule part of my life but not for the right reasons.

Henry smiles warmly at her, walking over to ruffle her hair. "You've said that about fifty times in the last 24 hours, squirrel." His dad chuckle follows and I find myself subconsciously smiling at their interaction. Henry became a stand-in dad for Ash the same way Lisa became a stand-in mom for me. Realizing this brings me some solace. It's a little sliver of light in the darkness of my overwhelmed mind.

Ash smacks her lips then purses them, trying and failing to hide her affectionate smile. "I know, I know," she fusses, running lithe fingers through her chestnut hair. "It just... doesn't feel real. I've lived in Nockfell for so long."

"And I would be failing all of you if I let you stay here any longer," Henry says gently, helping Ash with her hair by tucking a strand behind her ear. "You're all blowing up. Your options and resources are astronomically limited here. We, as parents, don't raise you to walk in our footsteps. We raise you to walk beyond the path we tread. You're all doing that." Henry's gaze passes over all of us, his eyes watery with a mixture of torment and pride. "So I want you to thrive somewhere that you have a chance to exploit your gifts--" Another sweet smile and I'm getting emotional alongside him. I didn't think I'd wake up this morning with a constant lump in my throat. "Just come visit every once in a while, 'kay?'

Larry's arm flexes around my shoulders and I blink past my tears, squeezing his wrist in my hold. I watch as Sal walks up beside Ash, a hand grasping her shoulder as her bottom lip begins quivering.

I didn't expect this to be so... hard. I knew it'd kill me to leave Nockfell a second time, but taking my old friends with me and having to part with people who have slowly become family is deeply gut-wrenching.

I've learned a lot on this trip. I saw so many things that make it hard to leave because I'm afraid of never seeing them again. I found out that Sal Fisher has a heart, and it's a pretty good one. He has issues, some of which have no doubt influenced his personality, but he's not soulless. He can be kind, he can be funny, he can be a friend. And Henry has clearly been a large influence on the good parts of Sal-- his father is the most selfless person I've ever met, gentler than a mother with her newborn. He has a heart of gold with morals and values that defy modern humanity. The moment Sal took my face into his hands and averted my attention during a panic reflected all the things his father has taught him-- all the warmth he has that he's hidden for so long. Hidden from me.

Looking at Sal now, noting his hand that tenderly runs over the back of Ash's head in nearly the same way Henry did, just reinforces the difference I've observed.

Ash wraps Henry up in a crushing hug, squeezing the man close to her. And he doesn't seem to mind-- in fact, he holds her just as tight. The man presses a kiss to her hair before moving over to hug his son.

We all hug Henry and Lisa, our parting about as heart-wrenching as an ASPCA commercial. But the bright side is that we know we'll see each other again. With our jobs in the streaming industry, we'll have enough money to make frequent trips.

Lisa holds me for a long time, her head rested atop mine and her fingers threading through my hair. Giving me the mother-like comfort that I crave every now and again. And Henry, he presses a kiss to my head the same way he did for everyone else. It's a soothing relief to know that I matter as much to him as the rest of The Faces do.

As I break away from my embrace with Henry, I watch Sal pull Ash to him, his hand cupping the back of her head and holding her close. I can't quite describe the kind of emotion that zaps me when he pulls his dad's signature move and presses his prosthetic lips to Ash's forehead. It's such a precious moment to witness. Ash's response makes it even sweeter; she playfully swats at his arm before leaning down a tad to kiss the cheek of his mask.

I can't help but smile fondly at their sibling-like affection, even if it echoes a bit in the hollowness inside me. I want to be cherished so badly in this moment, to be loved the way this family loves each other.

Sal moves around, hugging Larry, Todd, and Neil before taking a step back as everyone prepares to say their final goodbye's.

The disheartened smile doesn't leave my face as everyone mutters saddened parting words. But I spare a glance at Sal to find him watching everyone the same way I am. His eyes are squinted, the sole indication of his smile beneath that prosthetic.

My breath catches when his eyes, a crystal clear image of the overcast sky today, meet mine. He simply looks at me for a moment, then holds up a hand, middle finger on display.

I blanch, oxygen rushing back into my lungs, filling the void I've refused to acknowledge. Compared to his refusal to even come to the airport in Vegas, I'd say this is a step up.

I bite down on my bottom lip in an attempt to disguise the smile that pulls at my lips and the fluttering in my chest as I flick him off in return.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Dragging my backpack onto this rickety airplane takes a lot of guts. It's so run down and beat up that I can't help but wonder if Amelia Earhart was the last person to sit in the pilot's seat. But hey, if I go missing, I'd be solving a lot of problems. Win-win?

I walk down the skinny aisle, pausing to find my seat-- only to realize that Todd and I are riding together for this trip.

I smile warmly at my dear friend, scooting past him and toward the window seat.

Sighing, I plop into my seat and fasten my seatbelt. "Hey, Todd. It's a shame you and Neil got separated."

Todd tips his head in a silent greeting, a little smile on his freckled face. "Not a shame at all. This is his punishment," he replies nonchalantly. I simply blink at him while fighting off an onslaught of giggles. They seem like the type to have random arguments and disagreements every once in a while. They're totally the couple that fully believes their hiccups make their relationship fun, too.

"I stand corrected then," I chuckle as I pull my phone from my pocket. "Just so you know," I continue, leaning toward him to whisper, "I'm on your side."

Todd laughs, the sound much like bells tolling on a lovely spring morning. He pats my wrist, gives it a little squeeze. "As you should be."

I give him another quick smile before looking at my phone.

I probably shouldn't message Sal. I should just leave it be. I'm not obligated in any way, shape, or form, but... the whole situation is weighing on me. I won't be able to stop thinking about our conversation until I extend my hand-- in whatever weird way that I can given this situation Sal and I have found ourselves in.

And, yes. Of course my messaging him is a split second decision that I'm bound to regret. I feel... closer to him. Like we've bonded somehow.

Famous last words.

This is a true fool's rose-tinted glasses because Sal is complicated. All of this is complicated and I'm probably mistaking my relation and guilt for his traumas as us forming a connection.

I swallow over the nerves that ravage me whole and pull up discord, clicking on Sal's and my private messages. His last text to me altered our entire situation. It started all of this:

SALLYFʌCɜ: i wouldn't have made the promise if i didn't intend on keeping it. watch what you say and give ash five minutes to remember that you're in the room. actually, give her brain a boost. SALLYFʌCɜ: come here.

I chew on my bottom lip, contemplating his last message to me before typing up a quick message. I want it to be simple, easy, done. Without considering the past too much.

But I end up typing, deleting, and retyping up until our pilot announces that all passengers are boarded.

My fingers quake as I type up my last attempt and use every bit of willpower to refrain from deleting it all over again. My thumb hovers over the 'send' button and I force myself to look away, quickly smashing the button and pursing my lips as embarrassment rips me to shreds.

I spare a glance down.

VIOLETVIOLENCE: i'm good for more than just fucking if you need a reminder

Why the fuck did I say that? Why couldn't I be normal and just tell him I'd listen to his problems?

He starts typing.

I slap my phone face down onto my thighs and refuse to breathe for a full minute and a half. I take the time to build up the confidence to look, give myself a pep talk. I don't really care how stupid it was. It's done-- I can't change it. It doesn't matter and I don't care.

So with my heart knocking on my ribcage, I hesitantly lift my phone and look down.

SALLYFʌCɛ: i know. SALLYFʌCɛ: thank you

The guiltiest grin blooms on my face. I try my absolute hardest to smash the expression down, to tell myself that his appreciation isn't that serious. That this is just basic human decency. But, damn, something about the way he bothered to say 'thank you' instead of just 'thanks' or even nothing at all...

I put my phone on airplane mode then shut it off, look out the window as our plane begins to power up.

"Hey," Todd suddenly says, his voice inquisitive and a little concerned. "So, sorry if this is prying too much but it's kind of fucking killing me."

I turn my head to look at him, brow raised at his tone. "Don't worry about it," I murmur. "What's up?"

His dark eyes stare into mine-- deeply, investigating my soul like some kind of spiritual detective. I can't help but squirm beneath his heavy gaze, waiting for him to share his thoughts.

He starts slowly shaking his head. "I can't tell which one you're fucking."

Mentally, my eye is twitching.

I catch the shocked cough that almost escapes my mouth. Fear claws its way up my spine as I search through filing cabinets full of words in my head. "Uh," I intellectually start with. "Who says I'm fucking someone?"

Todd blinks, something like clarity morphing his features-- like he just got his answer. "Because you have North bricked up in the supply room of Henry's music store and Sal tracking your every movement like a dog salivating over a steak."

My mouth opens and closes silently up until my mental filing cabinet of words flies open and forces unintelligible sounds and words to fly through my mouth. I choke over my panic and slap a hand over my mouth, watching him with wide eyes.

Part of it is absolute amusement and disbelief over Todd's claims, but the other half of me is petrified by the fact that he sniffed me out immediately. Well, he's trying to, at least.

"I'm sorry?" I snort, my words muffled due to the hand that stays clutched to my mouth.

Todd gives me a no-bullshit look. "I won't say anything," he promises with a shrug. "I know I outted you in Vegas, but that's why I'm discussing the situation with you first this time."

"I'm not--" I pause, dropping my hand from my mouth to properly speak to him. I'm trying to school this and keep the terror out of my gaze, but I think he already knows. "I'm not fucking anyone," I declare, tilting my head down to accentuate my claim.

Maybe he'll buy it. I need him to buy it, actually.

It's not that I don't trust Todd, it's just that I know what he's going to say. It's the same thing anyone in The Faces would tell me-- the same thing Sal has insinuated repeatedly. That I shouldn't be fucking him. I want to avoid that because I already know. I don't want anyone else burying themselves in whatever the hell is going on because I don't even fully understand it myself.

This group is tight-knit. They care. They care so much that they would immediately tell me and Sal to end things and forget it ever happened because fuck buddies are 'toxic' and we 'hate' each other. But with Sal and me, it transcends all of that. We don't have half the issues we started out with, not to mention, our arrangement is working fine. And I'll admit that Sal is the farthest thing from shallow. There are so many twists and turns in his maze of a mind that I'm urged to navigate through it.

Maybe we're nothing remotely close to normal, it's the complete opposite of what constitutes as tradition. But everything before this pales in comparison. God forbid he hear my thoughts, but Sal is becoming a friend. I had to quickly accept that notion the moment I got defensive over his trauma.

Todd smacks his lips, a clear sign that he doesn't believe a word I've said. "Fine," he sighs. He seems a bit disappointed... but understanding. Todd loves drama, but he's thoughtful as well. He won't push me to talk if I don't want to. And let's face it, I'm sure he's already set on his opinion of the topic. The only thing he doesn't have is my confirmation.

"Just be careful, okay?" Todd's brows furrow a bit, a small frown pulling at his lips. "I know it isn't my business, but some secrets are a lot worse than you'd imagine. Fuck who you want, just don't get close enough to get wrapped up in feelings you'd regret."

Apprehension wraps its bony, ashen fingers around my heart and chokes the life out of it. I stare at Todd with wide eyes that have reacted of their own accord. I clench my teeth and think hard about how to organize my thoughts into something comprehensible.

"Is there something I should... know? About either or both of them?" I decide to ask, clearing my throat when my words come out whispered and hoarse, tangled with anxiety.

Todd presses his lips together, showing off his short temper. "I literally just told you they have secrets and to watch yourself. Read between the lines, y/n. Shakespeare should have taught you as much."

The pounding of my heart dies down a bit at Todd's rushed, frustrated sarcasm. The tension and fear are slowly dissipating, so I'll take Todd's claim to mean that he's just worried for me. North's and Sal's secrets can't be so bad-- everyone has baggage. And I mean, Sal's quite literally been through the wringer. An accident so bad it marred his face, a shitty woman who hurt him, and a dead mother. It can't get that much worse, can it?

I scoff playfully. "I hate Shakespeare. He was the worst person to choose for a comparison, Todd," I say gently, giving him a hesitant smile.

That sets Todd off. For the rest of our two hour flight, he argues with me about Shakespeare's genius. He made some pretty legit claims, saying that Shakespeare knew just how to throw backhanded comments to petty royals who didn't have smarts to decipher the true meaning. That Shakespeare was damn lucky he didn't get killed-- unless he was!

Yep, a whole debacle on his death came from that. It kept me entertained though. More importantly, it distracted me from Sal who, now that we've landed and are heading to our new apartments, I can't help but worry about.

Ash is sitting beside me watching the buildings of LA pass us by. She squeezes my hand here and again, smile widening when we come across landmarks she spent her own time searching up. It's so sweet-- all the places Ash couldn't visit on her first trip here are all available to her now.

Meanwhile, Larry's animatedly chatting with our Uber driver-- somehow he happened upon the topic of Speedos. Interestingly enough, our driver seems more than happy to let our friend talk. Neil chimes in here and again to add to Larry's outlandish remarks, making the driver nod in agreement or chuckle.

I watch the streets, slowly beginning to recall all the times I've walked these sidewalks within the past year. All my surroundings are starting to become familiar.

It's comforting knowing I won't be walking these streets alone anymore.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

I set my backpack on the floor, taking in the wide expanse of Sal and Larry's brand new living room. It's enormous; tall ceilings to accompany the loft to one side of the room, then a wall of windows with balcony doors across from me. As modern as it is, it has a nice, darker touch to it. The floors are grey oak, the walls a charcoal color, and the ceiling is bright white— a perfect contrast to the shade crawling upward.

I lick my lips, trying my best not to gape at the only room I've seen so far.

Larry whistles his adoration for the place, standing in the center of the room with his hands on his hips, inspecting every nook and cranny of his new home. He's but a speck of dust in a fancy cave. "This shit's pretty hardcore," he murmurs.

Neil places his bag on the floor beside mine, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Didn't you check the place out already, Lar?" he asks, a cheery edge to his voice.

Larry, in response, snorts and waves Neil's comment off. "Duh," he sarcastically answers. "This place has too much pizazz for me to not admire it like a middle aged man admires his new lawnmower. This is ejaculation material, bro."

Todd sighs obnoxiously, but Neil nods his head beside me, handsome smile on his face as he says, "Fair enough."

I seem to have found myself quite the group.

Ash glides her way through the entrance, giving the big room a once over and an approving nod that says she likes the apartment. She glances over at me, gestures with her elbow. "Looks pretty similar to ours, Vee," she chirps, viridian gaze glittering in the lovely sunshine that filters through the big windows. Sal and Larry didn't get an apartment, these dudes bought a house. In the sky. This thing is too extravagant to be undermined with the term of 'apartment.'

And then Ash's claim spins around my head, hitting all sides of my cranium to solidify the fact that we have a near identical home.

My eyebrows bunch together and I blink at Ash. "Wait, what?"

Ash simply shrugs, little grin plastered on her lips as she scrolls through her phone and plops herself onto the floor. She sits criss-cross applesauce and drags my backpack over to her, tucking it into her lap like a pillow. "I'm calling Sal to let him know we made it," she mutters, clicking on her phone a couple times before putting it on the ground in front of her.

I see a pig-tailed, really tiny Sal on her phone. His contact picture. He and Ash are standing side by side, both of them holding up bunny ears behind each other's heads. Ash looks exactly the way I remember her as a teenager. Sal looks the total opposite of what I thought though.

Part of me expected him to be this super lanky, scene kid. I mean, the hair said enough. But he just looks awkward and childlike here. His eyes are big and bright, happy. He's on his tiptoes to try and add some height to his small stature, so he doesn't look quite as short next to Ash. It's refreshing— clearly, he hasn't always been so... closed off, mean, and unhappy.

The call suddenly accepts and I'm forced back to reality, especially when someone who absolutely cannot be Sal Fisher answers the phone.

"Hey, sweetheart," he starts warmly, tone cosplaying as a literal cinnamon roll. Gooey, sweet, and cozy. "Did you guys make it safe?"

What brain slurping alien has taken over his body? There's no way that's him.

I think back to our night in Nockfell-- he called me sweetheart. He's calling Ash the same. Is this the true Sal? Laid back, caring, and gentle? Is that what he was trying to portray to me when we acted as distractions to one another?

"Sure did, mi corazón," Ash replies in a sing-song voice, rocking back and forth. "How are you and Gizzy? Staying safe? What's the ETA?"

I hear a low, content chuckle from the phone and swear I've been thrust into an alternate reality. "I'm fine, Giz is great. He's napping on my lap while I drive. Staying as safe as an eyeless guy can. And we should be there around midnight tonight."

Ash frowns. "Midnight? Why don't you guys stay the night at a hotel? Kinda risky to drive for so long."

Sal hums in contemplation. "My chances of finding a pet-friendly hotel are scarce. It's more trouble than it's worth. I don't usually go to bed 'til early in the morning anyway— you know that. I'll just get our bags down when we get there and save the unpacking for tomorrow."

"Let us know when you get here then," Ash murmurs worriedly. I grab my phone and check the time. It's six in the evening. Is he really going to drive for another six hours? "And please, drive safe. Don't forget to eat and stay hydrated. You literally take, like, two weeks off all our lives the longer you aren't around," she adds, tone much like a grandma fussing.

Sal laughs heartily on the line and my lips quirk up at the sound. "I will, I will," he replies to her, voice lovingly tender. "I'm about to stop to pick up dinner and feed Gizmo. I'll update you later, 'kay?"

"Okay," Ash chirps, satisfied with Sal's promise. "Ik houd van jou!" She kicks her feet after speaking, pinching her lips together and staring at the ceiling excitedly, waiting. Ash and her languages... I have no idea which one she just spoke, but usually if it's not in English, she's saying 'I love you.'

"You too, darling." Sal knows her as well as I do. This interaction is too precious-- I should not have been present for it.

Ash ends the call then looks over at us. "He's in such a good mood," she whisper yells, exhilaration scrawled across her face. She looks like she just did a line of coke. "He never says he loves me too!?" She whips her head to Larry, eyes narrowing as she inspects him. And Larry, he balks; holds his hands up in surrender to accompany his saucer-sized gaze.

"Is he on drugs? Did you give him something?" Ash asks, raising an eyebrow but never letting up that little glare she has going.

"No!" Larry exclaims, voice cracking. His surrendering hands turn upward in an exasperated shrug. "Why the hell would I send him on a road trip with drugs? We're talking about Sal."

"Exactly. We are talking about Sal. Sal who likes to party with you. See where I'm going?" Ash counters, tilting her head to accentuate her point.

Larry opens his mouth to argue, but then his brows furrow and he snaps his mouth shut, looking off to the side contemplatively. I'm still reeling over this news about Sal supposedly liking parties. "Okay, I see," Larry grumbles. "But seriously, I didn't give him anything. Hell, I don't even have anything."

"I wonder what the hell has him so cheery then," Ash mumbles to herself.

"It's trauma, dude, I swear," Larry declares passionately, pointing at Ash with one hand while the other buries itself into his hair. He's just had an 'aha!' moment. "He's fucking coping. Let the man cope."

Ash stuffs her face into her hands. "Larry," she says darkly, voice muffled. My hair stands on end at her tone and I note Larry grimacing beside me. "That is not funny."

Larry purses his lips and takes two steps back. I watch him struggle, cheeks going red as his mouth works. Like he's trying so desperately hard to not say something. But when can he ever keep his mouth shut, right? This is King Cockblock. Emo Buff Daddy.

"Sal would've laughed," he says softly, wincing when Ash's head snaps up and she sends him a cold glare.

I giggle when Ash launches into a full frontal attack, heading straight for Larry who squeals like a piglet. Todd simply sighs, pinching Neil's arm who laughs at our friends.

As unclear as everything is, I know that I can rely on the people here with me. The excitement on their faces just from knowing they have a new start, surrounded by one another. This is solid, this is good.

Ash and I eventually find our way three stories above Sal and Larry's apartment to our own apartment. It's at this exact moment that reality sets in. Not only will I be beside Ash every single day from here on out, but the rest of our friends are in the same exact building. For as long as I've felt alone, I feel stuffed with company and I love every bit of it.

She wasn't wrong either. Our apartment is essentially the lighter, more feminine version of Sal and Larry's. The floor is a dark, mahogany color but the walls are eggshell white, creating a lovely contrast in the room. Our ceilings are still stunningly tall, but unlike Sal and Larry, we don't have a loft. Just a lot of fan room, as Ash joked.

We spent time having our 'ooh' and 'ahh' moment, exploring our spacious three bedroom apartment and its bathrooms. And not long afterward, we set up the one blanket I brought with us in the middle of our living room. We ordered ramen and had a picnic beneath the moonlight fluttering in through our balcony windows.

It's a girl's night that I've been craving since the moment I first left Nockfell all those years ago.

Ash ends up dragging me and our little blanket out onto our balcony so we can stargaze. In fact, we're in the middle of discussing Twenty One Pilots's new album when pale hands suddenly drop onto Ash's shoulders.

She and I both yelp, Ash's arms flailing and her eyes squeezed shut in absolute terror as she flings herself off our blanket. I flinch, spinning in my sitting position to see Sal who's absolutely grinning beneath his prosthetic.

I look past him, noting Larry and Neil hovering in our living room with bags and suitcases surrounding them.

Oh, an important note, all three men are completely shirtless. Even better, they're a little sweaty too.

"What the fuck, Sally!?" Ash yells, sighing exasperatedly as she lifts herself from the ground and walks over to Sal, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "You're lucky I'm relieved about you being here because I would so twist your dick if this were any other situation."

"Thanks for sparing me then," he chuckles, hand splaying across Ash's lower back as they break their embrace.

I've found myself wordless all day. I feel like a spectator-- like I'm not even here with them on this balcony.

Ash ignores his remark. "Why are your nipples out? Why do you smell like a wet dog?" she asks instead, wrinkling her nose and leaning away from him.

Sal rolls his eyes and moves his arm away from her. "Because I've been unloading. Why else?" He steps aside, ushering Ash back into the apartment with a gesturing hand.

She follows his unspoken command, walking through the balcony doors and beholding the sheer amount of smelly men in our new home. "You should have called us for help," Ash murmurs, hands on her hips as she comes to a stop before Larry and Neil.

Sal doesn't answer her immediately. Instead, he looks over at me with his bright eyes that have been phenomenally captured by the moonlight above. He tilts his head toward the door, silently telling me to follow Ash's lead.

Gulping, I lean down and quickly gather my blanket in my arms, trying my absolute best not to express the nerves ravaging me whole. Sal's here. I don't really hate him like I thought I did. And he hasn't spewed insults at me yet. It's awkward and I feel... shy?

I start walking to the door, making absolute sure not to look at him.

As I pass through the threshold, I can feel the very tips of Sal's fingers brush along my side. Even in LA's smoldering weather, chills suddenly erupt along my skin. I don't know what kind of touch it was-- a greeting or a reminder of his presence-- but it was certainly something.

I suck in a quick breath, counting my steps so as not to trip over my feet as I walk further into the room.

Sal follows, shutting our balcony doors behind him and moving to point at all the luggage on the floor. And, oh, thank God, someone was either smart enough or kind enough to bring an air mattress. "This is all your shit, Ash," Sal sighs sarcastically, though there's some amusement beneath his facade.

"How did you manage to fit all of this into Sal's trunk?" Larry asks, gathering his hair into his hands, a ponytail between his teeth. "Everyone else had, like, three bags. Here you are, bringing your entire closet and then some."

"Uh, yea." Ash's attitude comes out full force, a glint in her forest eyes that says she's ready for this argument. "I brought my entire house, dude. I just moved states away, if you didn't know."

Neil cackles, grabbing onto Larry's shoulder for support. "I'm so glad we all moved together. I never get tired of you guys."

Someone get this man out of the room. Neil's a really handsome mouse surrounded by vultures, especially shirtless like this. Sal blinks at him then turns away and-- honestly-- I'm not far from having to do the same.

Ash smirks at Neil, shifting her weight to one leg to accentuate her little sassy pose. "You're going to get tired of us when we finish unpacking our stuff. After that, we're going pack up all of y/n's stuff to haul it here."

Neil tries to mask the way his face suddenly falls at the reminder that we're moving me here too, but he miserably fails. His quivering lips say enough and the group of us can't help but burst into laughter.

"It shouldn't be too bad." I send Neil a reassuring smile. "I'll rope Nate into helping us somehow--"

"Your hot LA bestie?" Ash squeaks excitedly. She turns to me with her hands fisted beneath her chin, her previous attitude mist in the wind now.

My brows furrow. "You think Nate is hot? You? Ms. Scissoring Expert herself?" I can't help but pick on her a bit.

Ash's excitement morphs into flattery at the name I came up with for her. "Oh, come on. It's not that shocking is it? I indulge in men sometimes."

"Yea, every three blue moons," Sal chimes in, watching us with a tilted head and narrowed eyes.

Ash sticks her tongue out, mocking him before she focuses back on me. "Definitely invite the hottie," she tells me with raised brows.

Whatever Ash wants, Ash gets.

I grab my phone without another word and start typing out a message to Nate. Ash watches over my shoulder, her coconut and poppy scented hair brushing along my chin.

Me: hey, i'm moving. help pack???? pls???? :DDD

Nate: I swear I wasn't serious about revoking your brownie rights. You don't have to leave.

Me: LMAO i promise that's not the reason the faces just moved to la & ash invited me to live with her soooo

Nate: So you hate me is what I'm hearing.

Me: --_--

Nate: Lol. Kidding. You know I'm happy to help with whatever you need.

Me: this is why ur my favorite ex <33

Ash gasps. "You dated the hottie?" I fling my head around to look at her, forgetting she was in on this entire conversation.

"Woah," Larry adds, hands waving like he's washing windows. "You dated the guy who tried to kill you before our stream?"

I shake my head disappointedly, glancing down at my phone to see if Nate fixed my fuck up. And he has, so I show everyone the message.

Nate: We've never dated. I'm not your ex.

Me: but you're clingy like one so you might as well be... plus you literally drop everything to help me

Nate: Have fun packing on your own.

Me: I'M SORRY I WAS JOKING

Larry's cackling by this point, watching the conversation over my other shoulder. "I'm so proud of you for inheriting my good humor," he squeezes my shoulder in his big palm, causing a grin to split across my face.

The boy's start talking about something that I don't care to listen to. I just spare Sal a couple glances, noting his unfazed and easygoing persona right now. All day, I went against all that my DNA has decided about him. I've worried and sympathized, battled myself constantly at the expense of my own sanity just because he showed some of his truth to me once.

Nockfell changed things.

I left LA lustful and I've returned with a friend.

-----

A/N::::: WHO'S READY FOR THE GANG TO MEET NATE OMGGGGGG

so sorry it's been fucking FOREVER guys >~< this was kind of a hard chapter to write. i had a general layout with certain scenes and whatnot but i've had to do SO many transitions, as you can see. I kinda hate that cuz i'd much rather stick with one theme and gently lead into side pieces in one chapter rather than bouncing ALL over the place. but, as you can tell, this chapter was needed to address some of sal's issues, y/n's thoughts and feelings as of current, as well as the way their relationship has changed a bit :3

ofc the other reason i've been gone is cuz of that stupid accident i had o_O for those who don't know, the summary is that i hit my foot so hard it made me faint and i literally shmacked my head on the floor HAHAAAAA here's the update: it's been two weeks and my foot hurts even more than it did when the accident happened. the day of, i got x-ray's and my doc said that i just had a bruise but i'm going to another doctor for a second opinion. i'm literally not even bruised anymore, but still swollen asf and can hardly walk sooooo that's tomorrow's agenda. i'll update you guys again when i find out more!!! (psa, if my foot is broken/fractured before my beach trip in two weeks, the hospital i went to better start counting its MONEY not its DAYS because guess who'll be going to fucking COURT with my DISCHARGE PAPERS AND WORK EXCUSE STATING THAT I AM HEALTHY AND OKAY TO WALK AROUND??????????)

tell me how i can improve! how could i make my transition smoother? what are some thoughts and/or actions i could add in to make things more entertaining and personal? also give me some fun words!! i need to expand my vocabulary >.<

anyway, as always, i love you guys with all three of my working limbs, even my janky foot. smooches and squishes my loves <333

(p.s. sorry for the long ass note)

(p.s.s. sorry for the shorter chap </3)

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #eventual smut

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byuntrash101 · 2 years ago

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being sandwiched between minseok & baekhyun after they’ve just got done finishing a show 😖 lord have mercy

oh my g- sdklsldkslkmdskmdklds

this checks all of the boxes!!!! the original muscle daddy + the orignal slut (baekhyun is a whore i just know it) is THE combo.

god damn i almost passed out writing this... im 🥵🥵🥵

tags: double penetration (vaginal and anal), sweat kink (typical me because im nasty like that), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, getting caught kink, dirty talk

You have no choice but to claw at Baekhyun's back as Minseok slips his thick member inside you by the only hole still available. The two men holding you up in the air, you wrap your legs around Baekhyun's waist as the two men hover you above their hard and dripping cocks. You don't know if you'll be able to keep quiet for long given how good and full you feel from front to back.

But it seems like the boys notice your struggle and Baekhyun wraps his pretty hand around your mouth the muffle your little whimpers of pleasure.

"Be quiet baby" he whispers in your ear as you feel him slowly pull out of you, making your wet cunt gush out and produce lewd squelshing noises. "We don't want the manager to find out you're letting us use your body like this right baby girl?"

"You could definetely lose your job over this you know" Minseok adds. And you shook your head in horror to the idea. Being a makeup artist was your calling but what you were most afraid of right now was to lose the opportunity to be squeezed between the two men like you have been countless times.

After a show they always needed a way to relieve tension and what better way than to fuck their favourite little cock sleeve stupid until you can't think straight or walk for days?

"Fuckkkk" you whisper as Baekhyun lets his hand slip from your mouth to your throat. Pushing his dick back into your throbbing cunt. Just as Minseok pushed himself inside your little rim.

"You're clenching so hard baby" Minseok moans in your ear as his sweaty chest is pressed on your bare back. "You want my cum that bad?" he chuckles picking up the pace.

"Yes!" you gasp. "Yes please cum inside me" you beg.

"What a little cum hungry whore you are" Baekhyun says as you catch a bead of sweat running down his long neck. You wrap your lips around his collarbone licking the sweat all the way up his ear. The bitter taste fills your head making you forget about everyhting that is not them their two cocks rubbing against each other inside you right now.

Baekhyun smashes his hips inside you, setting the pace and Minseok follows also adopting the unfirgiving pace.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum" you squeak trying to make as little noise as possible, immediatly biting Baekhyun's neck to keep yourself from screaming.

"Cum on both our dicks, baby" Baekhyun urges as his hips start to stutter.

Your worn out little pussy and shapeless asshole start to pulse around their cocks as you reach your climax. And it's the last straw for them. Your orgasming holes milk them dry, draining their balls to the last drop of precious cum that is over flowing your holes and dripping down the dark changing room's floor as you uncontrollably shake in their arms, eyes rolled back, breath short and toes curled. The pleasure is so overwhelming that you spray your cum in a powerful stream completely soaking the two men before your body goes limp.

"I'm so glad we get to do this all over again tomorrow" Baekhyun says, zipping his soaked pants up.

"I'm taking her pussy tomorrow!" Minseok concludes

a/n: almost did not survive this.

#baekhyun smut #xiumin smut #minseok smut #exo smut #exo drabble #hard hours #exo hard hours #baekhyun x reader #xiumin x reader

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shittybundaskenyer · 2 years ago

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now it really is a wip i guess

Soooo my writer’s muse has been submerged in depression on vacation for a very long time now, but I started a little something-something maybe a week ago when the weather here turned really nice and I had some time to sit outside and soak up the sunlight. This thing is 100% self-indulgent romance (and a bit spicy👀) because I can’t be helped. Also Read Dead still has me in a chokehold after like 3 years so yeah. Thank you Isabell (@wintersongstress) for making me post something, now I have to finish this or I’ll go insane. I don’t know who to tag so anyone who’s reading this and has a wip, feel free to share it! 🌼💗🌼

It's spring and you're a flower, and you bloom too, unfolding your body like petals, legs and arms slowly sliding away to reveal soft flesh. There's no shame when Arthur looks up at you like you're the goddamn sun and the stars and the wind caressing his face. Maybe you are when you reach down and slide a thumb over his brow, the downwards arch of his eyelid when he closes his eyes. Two gorgeous pools of blue-green look up at you when your finger slides lower, over his lips, to dig in and make them part, wet tongue darting out around a small kiss.

You watch him. His eyes, his mouth.

His long, golden lashes lower, a dark kind of fire ignited in his gaze, doin’ the only sin he does not regret committing—wanting you.

He grabs onto your side, the flesh on your hip and stomach, leaves heat in his wake there, large palm-shaped sunspots that ooze light into your bloodstream. Christ, you want him to touch you more. To make you burn, to make you into a flame that needs his tending.

"You're so damn pretty, little dove" he murmurs in that low voice, watching how a single flower of forget-me-not falls from your hair and lands on the top of your breast, trapped in a bead of sweat like a fly in amber honey.

The back of his head hits the ground, like it's a pillow woven from freshly sprouted grass and wild flowers and wet earth, and he moves you in his lap, lower, where you can feel him, hard and oh so ready but still waiting for your move.

The spark is ignited. Your sun burns inside your ribcage for this man, a heart shaped from light, and you reach between the two of you to get him rid of his pants. Arthur doesn't move, but he lets you pull up his shirt, over a strong stomach and golden brown hair, over old scars that faded into silvery lines, to a ribcage housing a kind heart.

"Will ya have me, Arthur?" you lean close to him, your bellies touching, your hand still restless at the buckle of his gun-belt, and he sighs into your hair, hips twitching at your eager request as he leans in to lay a gentle kiss on your temple, then the arch of your eyebrow.

"'Course, sweetheart," he reaches up, cradles your nape as he curls his other arm around your waist, turning you until the soft earth cradles you like another lover.

#my writing #wip #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

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thealmightysimpren · 1 year ago

Note

Since K Project is part of your requests list: do you think you can do Mikoto and Totsuka and something like where they realize/start to realize they're in love with the other? 👀👀

OFFCCCC! Thank u for being the first person to respond to my post, and I’ll try my best!!!😁😁😁.

okay so I need the ppl who read this to give me as much fed back as possible. Piz and thxxx u.

✨It was a normal day for the HOMAR gang Totsuka was sleeping on the couch of the bar misaki and kamamato were fighting as usual with Mr. Kusanagi in the background looking pissed off and we can't forget the beautiful Anna who was looking at her red beads. ✨*YAWN* (guess who decided to wake up) rubbing his eyes lazily Totsuka stretches and stands up “man~ that was a good nap!” “Well well well look who decided to get up, want a drink?” Says kusanagi while cleaning a glass cup. “No thank you, but I do want to go to the convenient store, anyone wanna come with?” Totsuka asks with a silly smile looking around the room. After a few moments Totsuka sighs in defeat “guess I’ll go all by my lonesome..” “wait a damn minute I need some more cigarettes while ur there” says the beautiful mikoto!!! “Yay I now have a shopping buddy!” Tosuka yells gleefully. At Totsuka s word mikotos face contorts into a scowl “that’s now what I meant idiot” “huh? Then what did u mean?” Makato stays silent for a few seconds before speaking “ya know what never mind I need a few other things from the store” mikoto says while looking to the side.

✨✨✨✨✨✨Time Skip✨✨✨✨✨✨

✨it’s been several days since then and the HOMAR gang has noticed that mikoto and Totsuka have slowly been spending more time together. Totsuka has noticed this as well and he thinks he knows why…it’s because…..mikoto is LONELY! (jk jk Totsuka isn’t that dumb ….I think?) he has a feeling that mikoto likes he and he can say he doesn’t feel the same way I mean what is there to not like about him he’s caring in his own way, sexy, and is a big tsundere basically a big ol’ bear. But these feelings aren’t really knew or surprising he has always had a small gut feeling that he likes mikoto. ✨mikoto on the other hand isn’t quite sure of what he’s feeling and doesn’t really understand why he wants to hang out with Totsuka so much lately but he isn’t TOTALLY oblivious he knows he thinks Totsuka is cute and the way he acts like a idiot on purpose is annoying but also adorable. so he decides to confirm his feeling but just as he was thinking of a way to do this Totsuka bursts into his room and shows a posted to mikoto “ Hey King let’s go to this festival together!” Mikoto agrees without a second thought knowing this is his chance. “Yay time to go shopping with the king!!!” Totsuka says grabbing mikotos hand starts to drag him around catching mikoto off guard but he still lets himself get dragged away. ✨as the two are shopping they get more close to each other and their feelings grow.

✨a few days later it’s time for the festival and Totsuka and mikoto are walking side by side in their new kimonos that they just bought, and you better believe it was a pain in the ass to get mikoto into that kimono it was like going through all 7 rings of hell back and forth but in the end the gang finally got him to wear it somehow. As the night went on they stopped at many food stalls and game stalls one in particular was a little fishing stall, once Totsuka saw this stall he was in love and dragged mikoto to the stall while holding hands. It was finally the end of the night and both were now certain they had feelings for each other but did know if they should make a move so they continued this relationship for a while.

bro I need help with tags lol

#k project #Mikoto x Totsuka #Bl’ish

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acebender · 2 years ago

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tagged by @gidguard

shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks:

Your turn to roll - Critical Role Cast

Fragile Things (Reprise) - Megan Hilty, Rosalie Craig

Revolting Children - Matilda the Musical

Whaf If I Forget Your Face - Kimiko Glenn

Industry Baby - Lil Nas X

Sunflower - Post Malone, Swae Lee

Crimson and Clover - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

Come On Eileen - Dexys Midnight Runners

About Damn Time - Lizzo

Pull My Beads of Love - Sam Riegel, Mr. Fantastic

tagging my pals @myhumbleme @flyingflesheater @loverboat @metalesbo @katesbish0p and anybody who lays eyes on this post

yeah, you, if you are reading this far now you gotta do it. sorry, I don’t make the rules

#don't judge me

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marlowethelibrarian · 4 months ago

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Writeblr Interview!

tagged by @saturnine-saturneight [here] !! Thanks for the tag!!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

I've written short stories and I'm working on a novel!! I think my short stories have all been pretty ass tbh. I think most of the ones I wrote were trying to be novels actually. I think I should read more short stories before I write them.

I'm not a super poetry person though lol

What genre do you prefer reading?

I read a lot of fucking fantasy. Other fiction too, but fantasy is pretty much where I sit in the readersphere.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I think I'm a bit more of a write as I go kind of a person in that my best ideas tend to pop up in the process of writing though I usually have a larger structure I'm vaguely following.

I've done enough reading that I think I've internalized some things about pacing and story beats that it just flows out.

What music do you listen to while writing?

Villain playlists on youtube. I don't really think about the songs too much in general tbh, I just want a catchy beat.

Favorite books/movies?

Stuff that makes me think!!! I love a good grip on character and an examination of why people Do That. The locked tomb book series is such a vibe for me rn, and I really liked Everything Everywhere All at Once. That shit laid me right out.

1000x Resist is also a video game that has it's fucking grip on my soul rn.

Any current WIPs?

I've got Project Cannibalism and the summer leagues OCT right now! I'm playing with some other ideas rn but that's just play atm.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

Wizard outfit.

I do, in fact have a wizard outfit I made myself, because I'm a huge nerd and a LARPer. It's why my little sphere self has a wizard hat. It's because I'm a wizard.

The wizard hat is a brown wool with a gold hat band and gold bead and chain dangles from the brim. The hat is a long maroon red duster with gold embroidery on the cuffs.

Create a character description of yourself:

Marlowe's round, expressive face grins wide and laughs a touch too boisterously, the short floppy crop of black hair bouncing over the brow framed lenses.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Not on purpose! I often feel like I am exploring a type of person as I write a character and trying to portray someone I know already from the outside in feels counter productive to that.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

There's more interesting ways to make characters suffer than killing them.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

I just forget to drink, honestly.

Slow or fast writer?

As it turns out, I write pretty damn quickly.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

I think I draw a lot of inspiration from going like wouldn't be fucked up if a guy hit another guy with a rock?

Also tbh from rps I've had with my partner, books I read, questions I have about life, or people. I like looking at the natural world and being like wow how about that thing no fantasy author would have made up in a million years that actually exists in our actual factual world?

But sometimes it really is just

wouldn't it be fucked up?

And to explore the implications out from there.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Wizard!! We've covered this, I'm a little wizard guy. I'm a library wizard. Wizard is my gender, I'm a wizard.

Most fav book cliche:

Idk, usually i prefer execution over cliches. I do enjoy a good enemies to lovers though.

Least favorite cliche:

Right now I'm pretty tired of reading about revolutions ngl. I think it's overused, especially by people who don't actually understand what it means to do a revolution. Especially YA revolutions where it's like some kind of metaphor for finding yourself and the evil government is like wantonly murdering their own subjects because they "failed at their jobs" or whatever.

1000x Resist managed to do a revolution I wasn't immediately rolling my eyes at though, possibly because it was a story about a revolution and not necessarily a revolution about other things. It was rooted in real life politics and it didn't pull its punches, didn't romanticize the idea of revolution.

1000x resist is honestly so good everyone go play it.

Favorite scene to write?

I really like writing scenes that make me cry and will hopefully hurt any reader's feelings ngl. I also quite enjoy a fight scene!

Reason for writing?

Idk I just do. I like to write and I've been writing since I was 10, typing my first self insert naruto fanfiction out on word and being excited that I was the one who was making the characters do things. I'd been a voracious reader since even before I could read myself, bothering my parents to read me books constantly. Trying the magic myself seems kind of inevitable.

I'd like to be published some day though! I'm hoping to shop Project Cannibalism around to publishers though I'm not opposed to self publishing either.

tagging: +open!!!

#tag game #project: cannibalism #wizard screaming #sorry idk whose answered this like #checks watch #a month ago

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toshidou · 2 years ago

Note

hea r me out ,,, sub ghost ,,,,

oh anon, how i love you

word count // 1.3k

tags // 18+ only, sub!ghost, dom!reader, rope, handcuffs, vibrator wand, ghost calls reader mommy and it nearly kills him and his pride but he did it (proud of him), face sitting, cunnilingus, hair pulling, multiple orgasms (from simon, lucky boy)

Simon Riley is not a man who gets the opportunity to let go very often, if in fact at all. He knows what’s expected of him, whether it be the stern, serious lieutenant, or the Ghost, a mere myth to military personnel all over the globe. He knows the role he’s been assigned, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go above and beyond the expectations set for him.

He once foolishly thought that he was a man who could cheat his own biology, somehow convincing himself that he could outrun the stress and near debilitating exhaustion. That was until you offered him a rather different solution. An arrangement that worked well for both of you, he remembers you saying. You weren’t wrong. Which is how he finds himself handcuffed to the metal bars of your bed frame; Hitachi wand tied against the entire length of his cock.

“I wonder what your enemies would think if they saw you like this, hm?” Your voice cuts through the fog in his head, forcing his blurred sight to clear just so he could drink in the vision before him. You sit on the end of the bed, maddeningly far from where his body lays prone on the sheets, watching him with wicked eyes as he jolts when the tip of the vibrating wand presses firmly against his frenulum.

“Going to cum on your pretty stomach for me again, baby?” He doesn’t miss the taunt in your voice, trying to hide the way his cock twitches pathetically at your condescending tone, unable to do anything but part his lips and moan. Being vulnerable was not something he ever thought could come this naturally to him, but something about you made it so easy for Simon to just forget about his place in the world, about the near back breaking burden he carries on his broad shoulders on a daily basis. You help him feel free, by taking away that burden and replacing it with blinding pleasure; all he had to do in return was give you his submission. It was the easiest choice he’s made in a long time.

“Use your words big boy, I know it’s a lot, but I need you to be a good boy for me, okay?”

“Yeah, fuck, ‘m sorry,” he doesn’t miss the fond gleam to your eye, nor the hand that slides from his knee down to his upper thigh, hissing through his teeth when your touch causes his leg to twitch, jolting the vibrator against his cock, “‘s too much, gonna go fuckin’ insane.”

You hum in response, lidded eyes molten with lust come to rest on the flushed red tip of his cock, pearlescent beads of precum dripping in rivulets down his veined shaft, straining against the rope that secures it to the wand.

“You mean to tell me that my big strong soldier can’t handle a little vibration?” Any response he has dies in his throat the moment you flick the tip of his cock, shame seeping through his veins when he realises that he just fucking came. Again. He doesn’t know if he wants your mercy, or more, but his dick apparently makes that decision for him, still painfully hard where it lays twitching like a heartbeat against his abdomen.

“Please,” He grits out, eyes shining with tears formed through over-stimulation, “Please turn it off,” but glassy eyes only serve to widen the grin that stretches so prettily across your face.

“Please who, Simon?” Oh god. His head droops, chin meeting his chest as he debates whether taking the near torturous, incessant pleasure would be easier than dropping the last of his pride, the last barrier to full submission you haven’t quite been able to squeeze from his stubborn brain. The debate, however, is short lived, cut off by the click of a button and strangled shout as the vibrations kick up a notch, doubling his previous torment.

“Please mommy, please fuckin’ turn it off, God,” The momentary humiliation dissipates the moment he locks eyes with you, chest heaving with relief as the wand is finally switched off. You look near predatory, pupils dilated so heavily not a shred of colour remains, sharp nails digging so deliciously into the meat of his thigh as you use him as leverage to kneel over his wrecked body.

“There we go, was that so hard sweetheart?” He nearly preens under your pleased gaze, going near dizzy with how quickly he finds himself sinking under your dominance. It’s nothing like the authority he’s used to wielding, harsh and unforgiving; you control him as easily as one does a puppet, with precision and grace. And he’s fucking obsessed with it, obsessed with you.

“Want mommy to sit on your face, darling?” You must instantly catch the way he’s eyes widen, how his arms strain against the metal bonds above his head.

“Yes fucking please,” he rasps, saliva quick to settle heavily on his tongue at the mere thought of you seated so prettily on top of his mouth, unable to think of anything other than making you cum on his tongue. He’s practically panting by the time you come to straddle your legs either side of his head, unfocused eyes darting between your face, and glistening folds, so desperately eager to have the taste of you coat his tongue, his lips, his chin, marked so clearly as yours.

“What’s the magic word again, baby boy?”

The reply comes so much easier this time.

“Let me eat you out, mommy, please, I’ll beg if I fuckin’ ‘ave to, just-” Clearly you weren’t interested in hearing anything else he had to say, cutting him off by lowering the rest of your body to met his mouth and rewarding him with the sweet taste of your cunt. He’s sinking deeper, he’s just barely aware of the feeling of pure emptiness and bliss that rolls over his consciousness, no thoughts in his brain other than pleasing you. His tongue laps in strong, desperate strokes against your pussy, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it down like he’s a man starved, as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert.

He’s rewarded with your hands forming a tight grip in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has his hips lifting off the mattress, groaning as he feels the way his biceps flex against solid restraints, desperate to sink his fingers into the soft warm plush of your skin.

“Doing so fucking well, making me feel so good Simon,” Saccharine words sooth his addled mind, forcing himself to stay afloat just so he can watch the way you begin to fall apart atop him, hips canting against his mouth as you start to ride his tongue with earnest. You barely cast a glance down at him, as if the only thing you care about is chasing the pleasure that lies beneath you. And it really shouldn’t turn him on, the idea that he’s nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, but it really fucking does.

It only takes a mere minute or two until you’re falling apart above him, your walls spasming around his tongue, thoroughly drenching his face and throat with your cum. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your twitching pussy until you’re dragging your hips from his face, revelling in the frustrated and disappointed whine that slips from his arousal slicked lips.

“No need to sound so sad, baby, I’ve got a lot more planned for us tonight. So be a good fucking boy and let mommy ride your cock until she’s had her fill.”

Letting go may not have come easily to Simon, but with you, it’s as natural as breathing.

#☁︎⋅writing #help #this was meant to be like 200 words #i blacked out #and then this appeared #i have no excuses #i am just too feral when it comes to this man #i need psychiatric help #good fucking god #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod mw22 #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost x you #sub simon riley #sub ghost

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quiltedgold · 4 years ago

Text

study buddies - leorio p.

pairing: leorio paladiknight x f!reader

wc: 1.9k

genre: smut. 18+ pretty please

contains: smut, unprotected sex, switch!leorio, switch!reader, college-age, handjob, yada yada

notes: this has not been proofread so forgive any mistakes. my friend saw a tiktok art this concept and inspired me to write this. also the empty leorio smut tag made me sad, so. enjoy :p

As you approached the door of your apartment, you dug in your bag for your keys, and… Nothing. No metal against your fingertips or jangling sounds from the depths of the backpack.

Damn it. No way you forgot them in Leorio’s apartment. You two had been studying for so long, and you were positive you had gathered up all your things from the table before heading out…

After one last sweep of your backpack, you were positive. No keys.

Sighing, you turned to make the trek back across campus to Leorio’s place. It wasn’t too far, a fifteen minute walk, ten if you hurried. Hopefully he was still up.

Before long, you were back at the entrance to his apartment complex. Grabbing your phone, you dialed him up and waited as it rang, then went to voicemail. Ah, maybe he was in the shower? No matter, you had a spare key to his place in case of emergencies, and he for yours. He wouldn’t mind if you used it to grab what you needed and got out of there. Fishing it out of your bag, you unlocked the door and headed up to his floor.

Rapping twice on the door, you called out- “Hey, Leorio? It’s me, I forgot something…”

No reply.

Frowning, you slotted the key into the lock and eased the door open, hoping he wasn’t asleep.

Before you saw him, you heard him. Quick, ragged breaths, and the wet, unmistakable sound of… Oh, god.

He was splayed on the couch, his legs spread and his sweatpants loose around his thighs. His head was thrown back against the cushions, facing towards the door, and you. His face was twisted in pleasure, his teeth digging into his lower lip. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen.

The sounds you heard were coming from his hand wrapped around his dick, rapidly fisting it into his palm. As you watched, his hips stuttered upwards once, and he threw his head back even further, letting out a whine, adam’s apple bobbing up his throat. He looked absolutely debauched.

Your brain battled with your desires, respect for your friend warring with the thoughts raging through your head.

Just when you thought you could work up the courage to leave, Leorio moaned your name in the most breathless, needy tone you’d ever heard from him, followed by a whiny, “Fuck, y/n, please-”

Your feet were immediately frozen to the floor, heart leaping into your throat. Your common sense told you to scram, to shut the door quietly and let him have his privacy and forget this ever happened, for both of your sakes’.

But the other part of you was louder. The part who knew that you’d been lusting after your friend for months, the part who’s encouraged the urge to crawl into his lap and kiss him breathless and more each time you hung out to study, but always been stifled… until now. That part of you made your brain kick into gear again.

You stepped quietly inside, shutting the door behind you, kicking off your shoes and placing your bag on the ground.

You padded over to the couch, face heating up with anticipation as you got closer.

“Leorio…” you whispered, and his eyes flew open, letting out a choked gasp. The hand around his dick halted its ministrations, and he scrambled to pull his sweatpants back up.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry, I, I thought you had left-”

“If you were so pent up, you could have asked for my help,” you hummed, gently pushing his hand away from his sweatpants. “What else is a study buddy for?”

Leorio gulped, desperately searching your eyes for confirmation that his actions weren’t wrong, that you meant what you were saying. His pupils were still blown with pleasure, sweat beaded across his forehead.

You trailed your fingers up his thigh, ghosting the base of his dick.

“Need some help?” you asked, holding his gaze for affirmation.

“Yes, please, god, yes. I- I need you so bad, please,” he moaned, bucking his hips up into your featherlight touch.

Smiling, you retracted your hand and fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt instead. “I want you to show me how you were doing it,” you requested.

Gasping, he grabbed his cock again and began pumping it, screwing his eyes shut with pleasure and perhaps shame.

“Tell me what you think about when you do it,” you said, sliding a hand beneath his shirt.

“You, always you,” he moaned without hesitation. “Kissing you, eating you out, f-fucking you, nngh-” He cut himself off as your fingers circled his nipple.

“Keep going,” you teased.

“Oh, god. You, sucking my- my cock, under the table or in the shower, or- fuck!” He jolted as you gave his nipple a pinch. “Please, I want you to… I want-”

“Want me to jerk you off?” You offered.

“Yes,” he answered, gasping.

With a devilish grin, you slid onto the couch next to him and tucked yourself into his side, placing your hand atop his on his cock, entangling your fingers and leading the pace, purposefully slowing it down. You moved with long, slow strokes, squeezing lightly at the base and tracing your thumb against the tip. He was painfully hard, beads of precum oozing from the angry red tip, and his hips bucked up with every especially hard squeeze.

“Fuck,” he garbled. “Fuck, y/n, it’s so good, please, I need to… I need to c-come, please-”

“Go ahead, Leorio,” you purred. “Come for me.”

With a strangled moan, his hips jutted upwards one last time and cum spurted from his tip, painting both of your knuckles’ white. Each pulse of liquid sent a jolt up his cock, and you squeezed it lightly as he rode out the bulk of his orgasm.

As he wound down, panting, you lifted your hand from his dick and brought it to your mouth, making sure he watched as you lapped up his salty substance from each finger. His eyes, already lidded, darkened with desire.

Flitting your gaze down again to his length, you saw that, unbelievably, it was still hard.

“Y/n,” he rasped. “Let me fuck you. Please.”

It was all you could do to nod before he flipped you over, back pressed into the cushions and head against the arm of the couch. In the blink of an eye, he had your shirt and skirt off, leaving you in simply the matching set of lingerie you’d worn in the event that this was an outcome of tonight’s study session.

Leaning back on his heels, he raked his eyes across your figure, admiring each inch, squeezing the base of his cock again with the sight of you.

Struck with a wave of self-consciousness, you pressed your thighs together and turned your head into the armrest, face burning.

Leorio tsked, “Don’t get shy now, not after you just jerked me off on my own couch,” he growled, slotting his knee in between your thighs to force them apart. Running a finger along your covered slit, he stopped when he reached your heat, pressing lightly then bringing his finger up to examine.

“Oh, my god, you’re soaking,” he groaned, sucking his finger into his mouth to lap your juices clean. He leaned down to capture you in a kiss, hungrily sucking at your lower lip and dipping his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and something that normally would have disgusted you only served to turn you on further as your tongues pressed against each other. You kissed hungrily for several moments, until the heat burning down below became too much to bear.

“Please, fuck me,” you moaned into his ear, looping your arms around his neck. “I can’t wait any longer, please.”

Nodding, Leorio wasted no time, shoving your panties to the side and lining his cock up with your entrance. Even the touch of his tip against your hole had both of you groaning, and he met your gaze and held it as he pushed his length all the way in. You wailed, wrapping your legs around his trim waist and trying everything to pull him closer, deeper.

His cock stretched your walls deliciously, filling you perfectly and making you wonder how you could have ever lived without this.

After his pelvis pressed flush against yours, his length as deep as humanly possible, he paused to give you time to adjust. Time held still, your breathing synched, his head dropped against your shoulder and pressing openmouthed kisses against your collarbone, light sideburns scratching gently against your jawline.

Then the moment was over, and he pulled out entirely, just the tip remaining. You almost cried at the loss, but he thrusted back into your heat before you could procure the sound.

The pace he set was breakneck, cock slamming into your tight hole, his moans echoing in your ear. What should have been too much only fanned the flames of your lust, throwing your head back with each thrust and crying his name and an assortment of obscenities.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Leorio groaned, breathless. “Ever since you came to my place in that short-ass skirt and kept uncrossing your legs in front of me, god-”

His hands gripped your waist for dear life as he fucked into you, the size of them deliciously large compared to your frame, his thumbs practically touching. Leorio’s fingers pressed shadows into the soft of your stomach, undoubtedly leaving marks by the end of the night; which you couldn’t find it in yourself to be unhappy about.

“Remember that?” He asked, rolling his hips in a way that made you squeal. “I was convinced you were doing it to- nngh- to tease me. By the end of the night I was this close to bending you over the table and taking you right there, shit.”

Catching his breath, he leaned down to hiss in your ear. “But I guess that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Little slut.”

Fuck. You wailed at that, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase against his back, likely leaving scratches against its tan expanse.

He groaned, speeding up the pace of his thrusts, cock insatiably hot and thick inside you. “Y/n, I’m close- want you to come with me, c’mon-”

Thankfully, the incessant slapping of his balls against your ass, pelvis rubbing against your clit, and his length reaching impossible centers within your cunt was sending you dangerously close to the edge.

“Please, Leorio, I need it, I need you, please-”

“Fuck, baby, I’m c-coming, where d’you- where do you want it-”

“Inside, inside-” you gasped without thinking, and he buried his cock inside you one last time, groaning as thick spurts of white painted your walls. The feeling of his cum inside you sent you over the edge, arching your back and sending your eyes rolling back into your skull as your orgasm racked your body, fireworks of pleasure radiating through each appendage. You gripped his damp hair for purchase as you rode out your climax, and he huffed against your throat, arm muscles rippling as their strength faded.

Both of you panted as you came down from your respective highs. Rolling off you, Leorio collapsed at your side, hands trailing over your heaving chest.

With a puff of laughter, you turned your head to meet his eyes, now droopy and satisfied as they gazed into yours.

You grinned softly. “I should forget my keys over here more often.”

#leorio x reader #hxh x reader #hxh smut #leorio smut

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rebuke-me · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 296 times in 2022

That's 279 more posts than 2021!

132 posts created (45%)

164 posts reblogged (55%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ineffable-grimm-pitch

@aqueous-aerolite

@rebuke-me

@theabyssgazesalsointoyou

@deprivedmusicaljunkie

I tagged 247 of my posts in 2022

Only 17% of my posts had no tags

#be more chill - 49 posts

#jupiter's fics - 45 posts

#deere bmc - 34 posts

#bmc - 32 posts

#jeremy heere - 32 posts

#jake dillinger - 31 posts

#bmc deere - 30 posts

#lamlih - 29 posts

#live a movie (life is hard) - 29 posts

#jupes' nano tag - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#he’d be too busy thinking about his own self and insecurities and how others saw him that he’d forget how to live.

My Top Posts in 2022:

more obnoxiously specific bmc headcanons

- jeremy heere hates mint. he hated it before the squip, sure, but he really hates it after. he thinks its a horrible flavour and will never get it. he used charcoal toothpaste for a while but it fucked with his meds so now he just uses kids toothpaste. not that he’d ever admit that, because thats cringe of him, but hey. mans likes bubblefruit.

- michael mell is a headphones only bitch. he hates earbuds with a passion and has gotten into so many arguments with jeremy over this. it is their one big debate and it’s incredibly funny. michael will only wear headphones and hasn’t let anyone wear his headphones in at least 6 years.

- christine canigula makes her friends jewelry. actually, she just does it for fun, but she ends up giving it to her friends. brooke has like 20 pairs of beaded earrings from christine just dropping them in her hands. michael has friendship bracelets clogging up his drawers and his arms from her. she likes giving gifts to them.

- jenna rolan once ran a vaguely popular 5 seconds of summer fan blog when she was 12. she never told anyone about it but every so often it reappears in her memory and he gets embarrassed. she still knows how to edit photos and gifs because of it. not that she’ll ever admit it.

- rich goranski wanted to be a band kid so bad. he started taking saxophone lessons when he was 10 and he managed to get pretty good at it but kind of lost confidence to actually be a band kid (especially with the whole popularity thing)

- jake dillinger is colourblind. not to an extent that’s dramatic, but he genuinely just. can’t tell some colours apart. he got frustrated as a little kid because people would tell him that something was one colour and he’d insist it was a different one. eventually he just made it his brand to not match anything so people don’t judge him as much. he doesn’t always mismatch on purpose, though.

- brooke lohst goes through phases of starting to make crafts and learning how to do things like knitting, crocheting, and cross-stitching before completely abandoning them. she’s made a total of two scarves, one stuffed animal, and a sign for her moms kitchen. all the rest are works in progress she will never finish.

- chloe valentine hates valentine’s day with a passion. because of her last name, she thinks its stupid and she’s heard every joke about it in the book. she wants to stab anyone that makes a joke about valentine’s day to her.

118 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

i am the righteous hand of god.

150 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

the entire rampion crew can be described as either “dumb geniuses” and “smart idiots”

163 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

my obnoxiously specific bmc headcanons

- jeremy heere writes apocalypse of the damned fanfiction. he's surprisingly popular in his little niche of people and he's kind of proud of it, but he'd never admit it out loud because he thinks its cringey.

- michael mell is like... super good with a sewing machine. mans was raised by two moms and sews his own patches on his jacket, and he could probably make a good chunk of clothing if asked, but he wastes his talents on absolutely hideous pairs of pajama pants in horrible garish fabrics.

- christine canigula listens to emo music. sure, her main genre is showtunes and broadway soundtracks, but she's a huge fan of any music that has a shit ton of emotion behind it that she can scream sing in her car. (also, her car is definitely a yellow bug. or some other bright colour of bug. i'm correct and i won't take criticism.)

- jenna rolan can quote entire episodes of old kids cartoons. kim possible, phineas and ferb, winx club, total drama, you name it. she's scarily good at it, but it's kind of a nerdy party trick so she doesn't say it all that much. you know that video of prozd with peter pan? that's her with w.i.t.c.h.

- rich goranski absolutely loves painting. not exactly pretty stuff, but he likes painting walls and canvases and sometimes his clothing, too. his clothes usually have specks of paint on them he can't get off, and once a piece gets too bad, he makes them into the clothes he uses to splatter paint his garage again.

- jake dillinger is a huge marvel fan. he doesn't understand anything about the comics, or anything like that, but he's always one of the first people to show up to the marvel movies in theaters. when they're having reruns of the movies in theaters he sometimes goes just by himself, sits in the back, and enjoys it all over again.

- brooke lohst can NEVER find her pens. she has a bunch of them, and some of them are all glittery and bright, some have those little puffballs on the end, some of them are just normal pens. she loses them so frequently that a good gift for her is just... a pack of pens. she has cute bags for them and everything, but nine times out of ten they end up floating somewhere at the bottom of her backpack.

- chloe valentine is notorious at killing plants. she tries so hard to keep them alive, but no matter what, they always end up dead. even cacti. and succulents. if a plant is alive in her house, its probably fake.

212 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the next person i see saying “he’s perfect i just hope they dye his hair!!” is getting nerfed. he’s a kid. the hair colour has nothing to actually do with the character. wanting to change the appearance of a child is weird actually.

511 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air. And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you. In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right. The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face. "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face. "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel fluff #marvel smut #mcu fluff #mcu smut #fluff #smut #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki series #into the thick of it #taris1kchallenge #tarithenurse

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band--psycho · 4 years ago

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Chibs Telford Smut-Illicit Affairs (Music Writing Challenge 2021)

Music Challenge Masterlist

A huge thank you to @miss-nori85 who helped inspire this fic, I hope you like it!

Warnings: Smut, cheating

‘Meet me at the usual spot in ten minutes,’ I couldn’t deny the way my heart skipped a beat, nor could I deny the arousal that flooded directly to my core as I read those words. It was like my body was autopilot, quickly changing into the closest items of clothing I could get hold of. For a while now Chibs Telford and I had had this arrangement; originally it started with long (and somewhat romantic) nights spent in hotel rooms, fucking until we fell asleep. That’s all it was, it wasn’t making love, it was a lot more primal in that, like an animalistic hunger that we both craved. The guy I was seeing now, he was one of the sweetest people I’d met in a long time, he was practically perfect in every aspect except one. He wasn’t Chibs. I knew what I was doing was so many levels of wrong, I always said I’d neve cheat on anyone….but when it came to Chibs, I just couldn’t say no. He could ask me anything and I’d do it in a heartbeat and he damn well knew it. He had a hold over me, one that I couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard I tried. I’d be his in heartbeat and that again was part of the problem because that’s not what he wanted. He didn’t want a relationship like that. I tried so hard to fight the feelings I had for him, the urge to feel his lips against mine, I tried to forget him and move on. That’s how I met Reece, we’d been on a couple of dates and we weren’t officially official but he spent most nights at mine. The relationship I had with Reece was so different to the one I had with Chibs, Reece and I went out on cute little dates to the movies, the park, all of those things a normal couple should do and for a while I did manage to forget about Chibs, a small part of me even began to imagine a future with Reece, a future that was filled with security but slowly, the echo of Chibs’ touch found me again and I couldn’t help but crave every aspect of him again and I couldn’t resist it when I was alone with him and neither could he, that’s how our affair started and that’s how it carried on, today was just another day of being torn between my heart and my head.

Quickly I made my way over to the abandoned parking lot that was a few blocks away from my house and there he was standing next to his car.Just the mere sight of him was enough to get me soaked; his hair was slicked back, dressed from head to toe in black. As soon as he looked up, I averted my gaze to the floor as I walked closer to him. I felt his eyes burning into me as I approached him, like a rabbit approaching a fox. In one swift motion I felt his cold grip on my chin tightly forcing me to look up at him, the anger burning behind his already darkened eyes. I knew I was in trouble, before I even got a chance to defend myself, he placed a finger over my lips.

“Ye’re late,” he growled in my ear, lowering both of his hands to my waist and lifting me up onto the bonnet of the car, quickly pulling my trousers down so they were hanging off of my ankles. Those actions were enough to have me dripping for him as my arousal continued to build

“Chibs-” I began, my voice barely a whisper but was cut off when his lips crashed down onto mine in a bruising kiss, one of his hands gripping my thigh tightly while the other hand traced along the damp line of my panties. He was the only one that could turn me on this quickly and in such a dominant way. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie and sports bra, disregarding them onto the floor, he trail of hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck before moving further down your chest. His mouth sucking on one of the curves of my chest, his tongue rolling over my nipple while one hand squeezed my breast, occasionally pinching the nipple causing jolts of pleasure to course through me. I was barely keeping it together as he switched actions between my breasts.

“Need you-” I moaned out, gripping onto his shoulders, desperately trying to catch my breath as he continued his relentless attack on my breasts. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he halted in his actions, his lustful eyes locking on to mine.

“Need what?” He asked, his hand moving slowly moving my panties to the side, allowing him access to the place I craved him most. All the words seemed to melt away in my mind as he lightly tapped his finger against my clit, the pleasure taking over all of my thoughts and all I could do was moan in response, bucking my hips slightly.

“I need an answer, love,” he whispered, gently biting the lobe of my ear as he began to tap my clit faster.

“You, I-I need you,” I moaned out, feeling his erection pressing against my thigh.

“Does your guy get you this wet?” he taunted, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge as he ran a finger along my dripping slit. I let out a shaky breath as he whispered “answer the question, or I stop right now.”

Just as he was about to pull his hand away from my pussy I whispered a “no” in response, a small smirk came across his face at my admission.

“Say it louder,” he demanded, as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of me.

“NO,” I moaned in response, gripping onto him for dear life.

“No what, love?” he taunted, his thumb circling my clit as his finger drew me closer and closer towards the edge.

“He-he doesn’t make me this wet,” I admitted, desperate for my release and just as I was about to fall over the edge he stopped. My moans turned into a whimper at the loss of him, but he just smirked, raising the finger that was covered in my juices to his lips.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he stated with a triumphant smirk on his face. He waited a few seconds before doing anything else, reveling in how desperate I was for him. Those few seconds felt like an eternity to me, I needed him inside me. I needed him to fuck me, now...I was so lost in the ecstacy of pleasure that I didn’t even hear him unzip his trousers before he entered me. I screamed slightly at the sudden feeling of his member inside me. I knew it wasn’t going to take long to push me over the edge, but by the look on Chibs’ eyes it was going to take him long either. Relentlessly he thrusted into me hitting my g-spot. Every.Single.Time. It was like I was on cloud nine; there was nothing that compared to this, no one that could bring me so much pleasure. I could feel myself about to fall over the edge again this time Chibs didn’t stop, he just kept on pounding into me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, wrapping one of his hands around my throat, only adding to the sheer pleasure I was feeling.

“Does he fuck you like this?” He asked against my lips, applying slightly more pressure to my throat with each thrust.

“No...he... doesn’t fuck me... like this,” I choked out in between moans, sweat beaded both of our foreheads as his speed increased.

“Who owns this pussy?” He asked, slowing his thrusts down, to look at me directly in the eyes, awaiting for my answer.

“You do…” I answered,knowing that it was the truth. He clearly saw the truth in my eyes because his thrusts began to get faster and faster, after a few more rapid thrusts my loud moans and his guttural groans were echoing around the parking lot as both of us came undone, finally reaching the release we both craved. Once we both caught our breath he released his grip on my throat and pulled out of me and I hopped down from the bonnet of the car, both of us quickly sorting ourselves out and just like that, it was all over, nothing else was said by either of us, although I could feel his eyes lingering on me for a split second as I got changed. But that was it. And just like that he got in the car and I made my own way out of the parking lot. By the time I got back home, I was already craving him inside me again.

“Hey baby,” Reece called out, as I entered the front room. I mentally cursed myself, completely forgetting that I’d given him my spare key.

“Hey,” I called back, guilt washing over me.

“You okay? You look a bit flustered,” he said, worry lacing his voice as he walked over to me, his hands moving to my face, caressing my cheeks lightly.

“I’m fine, I just went for a run,” I lied, with a fake smile painted on my face but it was enough to persuade him.

“Aw babe, don’t burn yourself out okay? I’ll go so you can get some rest,” he said, pressing a light kiss to forehead. I couldn’t help but remember how foreign his lips were on my skin compared to Chibs.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, with another fake smile on my face. Breathing a sigh of relief as he left. Part of me hated Chibs...hated how his touch, his kiss had created some type of secret language that I couldn’t speak with anyone else because no one else was him.

Tagging:

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#chibs smut #chibs telford smut #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford x oc #chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #SOA chibs #chibs x oc #chibs x reader #chibs x you #chibs x ofc #chibs xofc #chibs telford imagines #chibs imagine

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cyhyr · 3 years ago

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Rain's A Part Of How Life Goes

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

WC: ~6370

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: omegaverse, past mpreg, omega!Iruka, alpha!Kakashi, baby OC, depression, mental health facility, mental health treatment, antidepressants, self-loathing, getting better

A/N: This is in my Lights verse, the follow-up to Proposal. I will admit that it gets very rough and hard to read at times, just with the heaviness with which Iruka begins to fall into the depression in this fic. Thank you to @atereal for coming up with much of this fic's plot I honestly did not know how I was going to use "highfalutin" at all you saved my life

For the March Mission on @kakairu-discord-server

Read on The Archive

EDIT: SORRY I FORGOT TO PUT THE READ MORE IT'S THERE NOW

It’s raining the day they take Hikari from his arms and carry her out the door.

Iruka watches how she makes grabby hands after him and stares at him with big gray eyes of betrayal. “Ka-chan!” she fusses, and Iruka stares, unseeing, and remembers waking up in the hospital with her gone, the way he’d been willing to rain fire and fury on those who would separate his pup from his side. Now the nurse disappears through the heavy, locked door with Hikari crying over her shoulder and tries so damn hard to feel something. She’s carrying his pup back to Kakashi, waiting in the visitors lounge. He’s still only in his first week, and only allowed one visitor at a time.

It’s just for a little while, Kakashi’s voice echoes in his memory, just until you’re better.

Better.

Ha.

In his fingers, he turns over the tiny bracelet that Hikari had given to him earlier—green and pink beads in no discernable pattern. She’d made it when Kakashi had dropped her off with Ino for an afternoon of errands just yesterday, and told Iruka that it was for him, “So you won’t forget about me while you’re getting better.”

The nurse comes back and smiles sadly at him, and then holds out her hand. “I’m very sorry, Iruka-san, but I’ll need to take that. It is, unfortunately, a strangulation risk.”

Iruka swallows the tears—gods, he’s cried enough already since he got here he should be numb by now—and hands the bracelet to the nurse. She nods and opens her arm to beckon him along, and he stands up at her motion. As he passes through the visiting room and into the hallway back to his room, she says, “I’ll put it with the rest of your items. It’ll stay safe until you’re ready to go home.”

Home. Better.

Iruka lays down in the bed they assigned him and stares, unseeing out the gray, rain-wet window and wonders about better.

His fourth day in the facility, he’s compelled by an overly cheerful attendant to attend a “group therapeutic activity” in the large garden greenhouse in the back lawn of the building. He shows up late and sees half a dozen other people, dressed in the same gray sweats, T-shirts, and soft slippers as he is. They regard him with curious eyes, but he looks away.

A slender man with square rimmed glasses and wispy brown hair breezes into the greenhouse, clapping his hands and directing them to a series of small tables that each hold a small pot with some kind of plant—by the scent, Iruka thinks, it’s probably basil. The man introduces himself as Ryosuke and tells them they’ll be learning to care for the plants as part of their “therapy”

“Taking care of small, living things can help remind us of the simple things in life,” he announces with authority, hands on his hips. “It can help us to have responsibilities, things that rely on us; it’s helpful to have that sense of purpose. While you take care of your plant, you can think of other reasons to remain present. What else gives you your sense of purpose?”

Iruka looks down at the tiny tree in a clay pot in front of him. Small, living things, huh. Hikari is very small, indeed. Caring for a small, living thing never made him feel better. If anything, thinking about Hikari makes him feel worse. Here he is, numb and locked away in a facility for people who are a danger to themselves, and he can’t even see his daughter for more than a half hour each day.

What kind of parent is he?

The counselor comes over and stops in front of Iruka and smiles encouragingly. “Why don’t you go and grab a watering can? Sometimes the hardest part is the first step.”

Iruka looks over to where the tiny watering cans are lined up beside a hose, and at all the others lined up to grab one and start caring for their new plants. Slowly, he joins the line, takes a watering can and fills it, and then stands back in front of his plant.

Maybe the first step is the hardest part, but continuing to walk is still damn difficult.

He dumps the water over his plant and watches the soil saturate. When it’s time to leave, he passes by a series of intricate bonsai he hadn’t noticed on his way in. There’s probably pruning shears somewhere in the greenhouse; if he wasn’t terrified of never leaving, of never being allowed to see Hikari again, he’d make a plan to come back sometime with a less attentive nurse and look for those shears.

The food leaves a lot to be desired here, and though he’s never been to prison, Iruka has to wonder if even they get better than this. Although, he’s fairly certain that prisoners don’t get to choose their own food, even if he has to choose the night before. They give him three different cards to fill out and he gets to mark off one item from each category: main, side 1, side 2, drink, dessert (optional).

He picks up the cup of yogurt (side 2) and stirs it, thinking of the times Kakashi made him breakfast when he came to pick up Hikari, the effortless way he moved through the kitchen (the effortless way he moves) and how he could always churn out restaurant-quality food every time. Iruka’s lucky that Hikari likes cold and easy-to-prepare foods, perfectly happy with raw vegetables and rice. She’s probably enjoying all the home cooked meals she’s getting now.

Kakashi really is the perfect parent. She’s lucky to have him. Does she really need Iruka?

He shoves those thoughts down too, and instead picks up the little paper cup on his tray. It holds one single pill, a suppressant to keep his scent neutral while in care. He’s supposed to have a meeting with a psychiatrist again today; he’s been here for five days and already he’s seen the psychiatrist three times. He swallows the suppressant down with a swig of juice.

“I feel like you’re not engaging in your journey,” his therapist, Aya, tells him; she has brown eyes and Iruka thinks she’s nice, but pushy.

He shrugs in response, and picks at his cuticle.

“Have you given any thought to my suggestion of medication?”

He shrugs again, and uses his front teeth to bite off a bit of the skin next to his thumbnail, pulling it off. Blood wells up and pools into the space left and he squeezes his thumb harder to watch the blood grow.

“I think we’ll start you on a low dose,” she tells him, handing him a tissue. He takes it and presses it to his thumb and she continues, “I’ll have it included with your breakfast tomorrow.”

Iruka doesn’t respond, and Aya’s lips purse.

Kakashi visits every day he can, Hikari in tow. Iruka is still on “level one” of his “recovery journey” so they have to visit separately, Hikari being brought to Iruka and carried away by a nurse. Kakashi has to sign a form for her every day that he’s aware of the risks posed by letting his pup go into the facility without him, that the nurses will do what they can to minimize any harm done but that their priority is the residing patient, and ends up pacing the waiting room over and over until she’s back with him.

He trusts Iruka to not hurt her. He doesn’t trust anyone else.

Kakashi always lets Iruka use most of his visiting time to see her, only going in the last 15 minutes of the hour to see him. The same nurse every time sits with Hikari while he goes in to visit Iruka.

It’s... well.

Iruka is surprised every day he shows up, every day when the chattering toddler Hikari comes to see him. He always thanks Kakashi for bringing her, as if he wasn’t the constant topic of conversation every five minutes living with their pup. Kakashi makes sure to keep their chatting light and positive, as best he can.

But it’s been almost a week and the psychiatrist says there’s been no discernable change yet. They only just started Iruka on an antidepressant, and it’s a low enough dose that it could take two weeks before they start seeing positive reactions. He’s in this for good, though, and wants to see his—not his not his—omega get better. This sort of treatment was Tsunade’s recommendation, too; so it… it has to work.

Kakashi sits down across the table and asks, “How are you feeling?”

Iruka doesn’t answer right away. He hasn’t seen Iruka smile all week, but he also has only seen Iruka for fifteen minutes each day. He doesn’t look sad, instead simply just… numb.

“It’s going okay,” Iruka finally says. “I don’t think Aya and I get along very well.”

Kakashi offers his hands, palm up on the table. Iruka moves his fingers next to Kakashi’s and stares at them, barely touching. Kakashi says, “Aya is your lead therapist, right? She just wants to help.”

Iruka shrugs. “I guess. I’m really tired all the time.”

“Do you want me to go early? Let you go get some rest?”

Iruka frowns and places his hand over Kakashi’s. “No. No, I don’t… please don’t leave yet.”

He curls his fingers around Iruka’s and holds back the smile. The suppressant they have him on is fairly strong, covering up Iruka’s natural scent and making him smell like chemicals and cleansers. But he’s still Hikari’s mother, and he asked Kakashi not to leave.

“What kind of therapy are you doing?”

Iruka pauses and thinks, and then murmurs, “They bring us out to the greenhouse every day.”

Kakashi settles in and listens to him talk, hoping that somehow, this all is helping.

Iruka drifts.

He thought he knew what numb felt like. But now that the medication is starting to take effect, he feels worse. He can’t get out of bed in the morning without vocally reminding himself that Kakashi and Hikari will be visiting after lunch and he can’t disappoint them.

He picks at his food, takes his medication and suppressant, and finds a shady corner with a comfy chair to sit and look out at the rec room. It’s quiet, for all the people that are in here. So many nurses, urging other patients to go to this activity or come talk to an open therapist. A group of people playing a board game, a pair playing shogi, another group having an impromptu session with each other with a therapist guiding the conversation along.

Iruka is alone.

He remembers when being alone used to hurt. The loneliness doesn’t ache now.

Just until you’re better feels farther away than ever before.

By the end of the second week, Iruka’s basil plant is yellow and drooping. He’s not sure what he’s doing wrong, but it’s dying. Everyone else’s plants are thriving.

“Sometimes you just get a bad seed,” Ryosuke says. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

Aya asks if he’d be willing to join them for a movie night, and Iruka declines.

“We have popcorn and snacks,” she says. “And the nurses pull all of the sofas to the center of the room so everyone can be comfortable.”

“I said, no thank you.”

Aya sighs quietly. “You know, it’s okay to need to use another person as a crutch to help you get better, at least for a while. The goal, obviously, is that you’ll learn to stand on your own. But if you need to frame it in your mind that you need to get better, say, for your daughter—”

“Leave my pup out of this.”

(Iruka isn’t looking; but the tiniest of smiles crosses Aya’s face. If he can feel anger, he’s getting better.)

When he was in the hospital after having had Hikari—truly, one of the most painful nights of his life, physically and emotionally—he had stared down the Hokage herself in his determination to keep his pup within arm’s reach. He had nearly gotten a nurse fired because she refused to believe that he was fine and didn’t want Hikari taken to a nursery so that he could rest. He had been angry and combative and defensive, and rightly so with Danzo breathing down his neck waiting for him to fuck up in such a way that he could claim his pup for the village.

Now, as she is led out of the rec room by the nurse, he watches her go and feels nothing.

Kakashi comes and sits in her spot, beside Iruka, and tries to get him to talk. But there’s nothing to talk about; he’s a failure as a parent, as a shinobi, as a teacher—

“Your doctor says that you’re showing signs of improvement,” Kakashi says.

Worthless, that’s what he is. If Kakashi hadn’t gone after him when he slipped off the edge—

“They’re going to try keeping you another week or so, to see if you can pick up coping methods.”

He should have died that day.

“Iruka?”

“What.”

Kakashi sighs and takes his hand. “Hikari is turning two in a month. I… I know that she’d want you there.”

“Why. She doesn’t need me.”

“That’s the depression talking. Of course she needs you.”

“You’re a better parent than me.”

“Iruka, I love you. Please don’t compare us like this. We’re both good parents to her, I promise.”

Iruka stares at the table and tries not to cry. Gods, he’s done so much damn crying the last few weeks. He’s so sick of fucking crying, but he knows that Kakashi is just lying to make him feel better.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell Kakashi that it makes him feel worse.

Kakashi brings Hikari to the facility, as he does every day he’s allowed, but after they check in the nurse that usually comes to take Hikari to Iruka doesn’t show. Instead, Iruka’s head therapist, Aya, comes into the reception and greets them. She has a weary smile, and Kakashi only hopes that it isn’t because of Iruka.

“Hatake-san, I’m very sorry but Iruka’s not able to have visitors today.”

Hikari chirps, “No Ka-chan?”

He shushes her gently, but then asks, “Did something happen?”

Aya nods. “He had a breakthrough, but it came alongside a panic attack and a severe drop in his mood. We’re watching him closely, and believe that there’s little risk of him attempting to hurt himself, but I’d hate for Hikari-chan to see her mother like this.”

“Wanna see Ka-chan, please!”

She kneels down to Hikari’s level and says carefully, “I’m sure he’d love to see you, too, especially after this breakthrough. But not today.” She looks up at Kakashi and continues, “You can, of course, come back tomorrow and try again.”

“Then we’ll do that.” Kakashi scoops Hikari up and braces her on his hip. She looks like she’s about to start crying again, so he needs to escape and get her out of here before then. “Thank you, for taking such good care of him.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’ll make a note that, if he’s okay to have visitors tomorrow, that you and Hikari-chan can stay an extra hour to make up for today’s lost time.”

He nods and thanks her again, and then leaves.

“Tou-chan, see Ka-chan please!”

“We can’t today, little one.” She turns her face into his neck and scents him, sniffling and crying quietly. Fuck, he’d rather she scream and throw a fit. “How about we go to a park?”

She just nods, clinging to him tightly.

It’s all he can do, the next day, to keep Hikari from skipping ahead and leaving him behind. Kakashi reminds her that they’ll be there right on time, there’s no need to rush. It had stormed overnight, and he distracts her by showing her how to kick stones into the puddles still on the road.

In the reception, Kakashi signs them both in and pulls her into his lap to try and calm her down before they see Iruka. He’d like to know what kind of breakthrough had been made, but only if Iruka wants to talk about it. Aya may end up telling him later, while Iruka’s having one-on-one time with Hikari.

The bubbly nurse comes in and beckons them in. Normally, it’s just Hikari first, and so Kakashi lets her slip off of his lap and toddle over to her. But the nurse smiles and says, “You, too, Hatake-san.”

So he stands and joins Hikari and the nurse as she walks them into the rec room. It’s empty, save for Iruka sitting at their usual table with a ghost of a smile in his eyes. Hikari runs, chanting ka-chan, ka-chan, ka-chan, over and over until she collides with Iruka.

He picks her up.

Puts her in his lap.

And hugs her. Kisses her hair. Scents her and rests his cheek on the top of her head.

Kakashi turns to the nurse, but she just continues smiling. He crosses the room to get to them both, and rests his palm on Iruka’s shoulder. “You look better today.”

Iruka nods and rocks Hikari side-to-side. She hums happily, almost purring in the cute way that pups do sometimes. Finally, he looks up at Kakashi and his heart breaks to see the weakest smile on his lips. “They let you both in at the same time,” he murmurs.

He sits down beside them and rubs Hikari’s back. “They did. Aya said that we’d get an extra hour with you because we weren’t able to see you yesterday. Did anyone confirm that with you?”

Another nod. “Yes, Aya told me that she made a case for the both of you to stay a bit later.”

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Ka-chan, lookit my boots!” Hikari sticks out her leg and shows off the purple rain boots Kakashi bought for her last week, just as they were starting to get into the rainy season. Today is her first time getting to wear them and she had stopped at least three people on the way to the facility to tell them all about her new boots.

“They’re very pretty, Hikari,” Iruka says. “As long as Kimi-san comes with us, yes, we can walk around outside.”

The warmth is back in his voice. Kakashi hadn’t ever noticed that it was gone, before finding Iruka in Uzushio so many weeks ago. He has since kicked himself, over and over, trying to figure out when the sweet warmth he had first fallen in love with had chilled with Iruka’s growing depression. It’s still not clear to him when it had started, and he knows that at least part of this situation is his own fault for letting the joy of having Hikari blind him to Iruka’s mental health problems.

Kimi, the bubbly nurse, walks behind them while they stroll the paths in the gardens. Kakashi offers his hand to Iruka, and Iruka blushes lightly as he links their fingers together. They watch Hikari hop from puddle to puddle, giggling and singing a little song about splashing and puddle jumping.

She turns to look back at them and shouts, “Ka-chan, watch! Am a frog!” And then she makes a big show of jumping really hard into the next puddle. The water sprays up past her boots and soaks her leggings, and she laughs—

And Iruka laughs.

At the one-month mark, Iruka stays in bed all day and forces himself to keep breathing.

It’s just a plant. It was bound to die eventually.

But what if it hadn’t been a plant.

He feels sick. By dinnertime, he asks Kimi for something for his stomach, and she brings him a little pink pill that tastes like chalk when she tells him to chew it before swallowing.

He goes to sleep that night, determined to do better.

Iruka watches as Hikari toddles around the rec room saying hi to anyone who will look at her and smile—almost everyone. Beside him, Kakashi holds his hand and stretches his other arm across the back of the sofa and around Iruka’s shoulders.

“Her birthday is in a few days,” Kakashi says quietly. “Aya-sensei says you… you won’t be ready to come home by then.”

Iruka nods. “I figured.”

“Iruka—”

“Make sure you give her a good day. Ice cream for breakfast and lots of time to play with anyone and everyone.”

Kakashi squeezes his hand and asks, “You’re not going to try to get out before?”

“I can’t rush getting better, Kakashi.”

One of the other patients puts a flower behind Hikari’s ear and shoos her away with a giggle. Hikari runs back to them and, panting, gestures to her flower and says, “Ka-chan, look! Pretty!”

He smiles. “It is. Just like you.”

She squeals and jumps into his lap, scenting and nuzzling his chest, and he folds his arms around her. With another kiss to her hair, he lets her go again and watches as she makes the rounds in the rec room and he sniffs back tears.

“Iruka? What’s—?”

“You know,” Iruka says quietly, “I barely remember the last two years. Like I’ve been living in a fog. I know that there were some bright moments, and I can remember most of her milestones. But I couldn’t tell you how old she was when she started walking, or when her hair grew out to be longer than an inch.” He leans forward to put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands and loses the battle against his tears. They fall freely as he hiccups and says, “I don’t even remember what it was like to hold her when she was an infant.”

Kakashi rubs his back while Hikari toddles back and places her hands on his thighs, saying, “No cry, Ka-chan.”

Kakashi shushes her and Iruka does his best to stifle the feelings of inadequacy but he looks at his pup and sees her, almost two years old and growing so fast, and he feels horrible.

Then, from beside him, “She started walking at nine and a half months. Her hair started really growing just after she passed fifteen months. And to hold her?” A pause; Iruka takes the moment to sniff and lift his head, looking over at Kakashi while he thinks, his eye closed and a soft hum echoing between them. “Holding her felt like cradling a warm loaf of bread. Like if you held her too tight you would squish her, but at the same time you had to hold her firmly or you’d drop her. You used to lay out in bed with her snuggled to your chest, her ear on your heart, and you’d pat her bottom like this,” Kakashi pats his back in a heartbeat fashion, bum-bump, bum-bump. “I loved holding her, but she always preferred you.”

Iruka wipes his eyes and collapses back against Kakashi’s arm. He feels Kakashi nose in his hair, feels lips through the mask on his temple, and listens as Kakashi continues, “It’s okay if you don’t remember. I can remember for both of us. And we have her entire life to make new memories.”

Hikari climbs back into his lap and between the two of them, Iruka feels… warm.

For the first time in… a long time. Iruka purrs.

“I know that in the past your answer has always been ‘no,’ but would you like to reconsider joining the facility for movie night tomorrow?”

Iruka taps his fingers on his leg and then, quietly, asks, “I’m allowed to have a guest for that, right?”

Aya smiles and says, “Yes, of course.”

“Can I have both Hikari and Kakashi?”

She sighs lightly and says, “Unfortunately, no. We can only allow adult guests for this event, because the lights will be off.”

Iruka frowns, but understands. “Then… then I’ll ask Kakashi tomorrow when he visits.”

“I can send him a messenger to inform him of the invitation. That way he won’t be scrambling for childcare.”

He brightens and asks, “Really? That’d be great!”

Aya nods and makes a note. “I’ll get a messenger as soon as our session is done.”

Kakashi is just setting Hikari’s lunch on the table when a knock comes on his door. He sets her juice within reach and goes to get the door.

A young genin messenger grins and hands him a note, saying, “From Aya-sensei of the Konoha Renewal Facility. I’m supposed to wait for a possible response.”

Kakashi nods and opens the letter, reading it quickly. A movie night? And Iruka wants him there. Aya stresses that this is a step in the right direction and that if he can make it, it would help Iruka. He takes a pen from just inside the door and scribbles on the enclosed blank sheet of paper his response.

I’ll be there. He sends the messenger away with the new note and then turns back inside.

“Oh, Hikari,” he sighs. “Your food is supposed to go in your mouth, not your hair.”

Kakashi spends the rest of the day trying to find childcare for tomorrow. Gai is preparing to leave for a mission with his team, and apologizes for not being available. Tenzō doesn’t answer when he knocks, so he assumes he’s out on a mission as well. He doesn’t know Rakko well enough to ask them outright; and besides, he does know that they’re on Tenzō’s team, so if Tenzō isn’t available, likely Rakko isn’t either. A trip to the Yamanaka flower shop also proves fruitless, as Ino is swamped with medic classes to pass her final certification test in two weeks.

He sags on a bench and lets Hikari play in the dirt at his feet for a bit while he thinks. There’s not a lot of people he trusts with his pup, and he needs to be there for Iruka tomorrow night. He could ask Tsunade for a recommendation—no, she’s swamped with work, there’s no way she has the time to spare to think about childcare. There’s always the orphanage’s daycare program, but he’s spoken with Iruka on the topic in the past and knows Iruka doesn’t care for Konoha’s orphanage.

“Tou-chan! Puppy!”

He looks down at Hikari, and then follows her gaze down the road to where Kiba and Akamaru are walking towards them. She stands up and comes to lean against Kakashi’s leg, bouncing excitedly but staying close. Hikari hasn’t learned the difference between normal dogs and ninken yet, so he keeps a palm on the back of her shirt to keep her from dashing to Akamaru.

“Hi, Kakashi-sensei,” Kiba says. He smiles down at Hikari and says, “What are you two doing out here?”

“Puppy?”

Kakashi sighs. “Just trying to figure out childcare for her for tomorrow,” he answers. To Hikari he says, “You need to ask Kiba-san if he’s alright with you petting his ninken, and then also ask Akamaru.”

Hikari bounces and says, “Ki-chan! Can pet puppy?”

Kiba chuckles and motions for Akamaru to lay down. “He’s very good with pups. There are a bunch in the Inuzuka compound and they all like to climb on Akamaru.” He guides Hikari to pet the ninken behind his ears and the top of his head. While Akamaru pants happily and tries to lick Hikari’s face, Kiba turns back to Kakashi and asks, “What’s this about needing childcare?”

“I have an event I need to go to with Iruka,” Kakashi says. It’s not publicly acknowledged where Iruka has been for the last month, and Kakashi doesn’t feel comfortable saying it. It’s… It’s Iruka’s business, what he wants his former students to know. “But my regular babysitters are unavailable.”

“Have you asked Hinata? She’d love to watch Hikari.” Without seeming to look, Kiba gently redirects Hikari’s hand as she reaches out to pull Akamaru’s ear, and holds her wrist until she stops straining to grab and instead is distracted by Kiba leading her palm to the softer fur on the ninken’s flank.

“I have no doubt that Hinata would be great, but I don’t trust Hiashi,” Kakashi muses. “What about you? Would you be interested in watching her?”

Kiba’s face darkens and he stiffens. “I’m so sick, already, of people assuming that I want to be around pups just because I presented as an omega. Like, I knew it was gonna happen, but—”

“You’re an omega?” Kakashi stops and scents the air and yep, that’s fresh, young omega lingering in a cloud around Kiba. “I didn’t know you presented.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Ki-chan, no sad?”

Kiba smiles down at Hikari and says, “I could never be sad around you, pup!”

“If you don’t want to watch her, that’s fine,” Kakashi says. “Like I said, I didn’t know. I asked because you’re good with her.”

“She’s a good pup. Anyone would be good with her.”

“You honestly think that Neji would be half as good with her as you are? Or Lee?”

Kiba chuckles. “They have their moments, don’t they. Yeah, fine. I’ll watch her tomorrow. Do you want me to come to your place or—?”

“I’ll bring her over to the Inuzuka compound tomorrow evening,” Kakashi says. “Not that I don’t trust you, obviously I do or I wouldn’t ask, but having Tsume or your sister available as well would ease Iruka’s mind as well.”

Kiba nods. “We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Iruka claims a sofa and sits, cross-legged, in the middle of both cushions, holding a paper bowl of popcorn in his hands and bracing two water bottles against his hip. He keeps anxiously glancing to the side, where the door to the waiting room and reception is. The movie’s supposed to start soon and if Kakashi doesn’t come— Gods, he’s not a teenager with a crush anymore. They have a pup together. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous. Kakashi said he’d be here and he needs to just take the alpha at his word.

Sure enough, though, Iruka turns his head once more and there, in the frosted glass, is Kakashi’s silhouette. And when the door opens and Kakashi comes through, scanning the room for Iruka, he raises his hand and waves and catches Kakashi’s eye; and even from here, across the wide rec room, and with three-quarters of Kakashi’s face covered, he can still tell that the alpha smiles when he notices Iruka.

… Maybe he’s not a teenager, but the crush certainly never went away. It has just been buried under the depression.

Kakashi asks, “Can I sit?”

Iruka shuffles over to let Kakashi have more than half a cushion. He hands Kakashi one of the water bottles and offers some popcorn. “Ah, Hikari is with Gai, I assume?”

Kakashi declines the popcorn and says, “Actually, with Kiba.”

“Kiba?”

“There are a few teams that are out of the Village right now,” Kakashi says. “But I wouldn’t worry. Both Tsume and Hana are around if he gets overwhelmed.”

Iruka grins and says, “It’s Tsume-san I’m worried about. Have you seen what she considers ‘age appropriate play’?”

Kakashi raises a brow, “It’s just dogs and kunai, right?”

“The Inuzuka can be… rough. But they’re good with pups,” Iruka nods. “Thank you.”

“I would have thought you wanted to share movie night with Hikari instead.”

“I… thought about it. Briefly. But I would worry about her the whole time, and I’m not sure if a two-year-old has the attention span to sit through a two-hour movie.”

“And what makes you think I do?” Kakashi asks, chuckling.

Iruka grins and says, “Hatake Kakashi, elite jounin of Konohagakure, not having at least a two-hour attention span? Sounds fake.”

They both laugh, and Iruka sneaks a piece of popcorn. He continues, “Plus, it’s adults only,” and Kakashi gives him this odd leer that makes his chest clench. The lights in the room turn off and the movie starts on the projector screen. They start off the movie on opposite sides of the couch, the popcorn bowl between them. A nurse walks around and checks in with everyone here and there.

The movie itself isn’t that great. Iruka can hardly follow the plot and honestly doesn’t understand the motive for the protagonist. But most everyone else laughs together at the same moments, and even Kakashi chuckles here and there.

And Iruka discovers something silly and delightful about Kakashi; he’s a chatterbox during movies. Once Iruka has shifted close enough that he can rest his head against Kakashi’s shoulder, Kakashi starts picking apart the movie viciously. He speaks low enough that no one but Iruka can hear, and for the rest of the movie Iruka watches with his hand near his lips to help stifle the giggles.

“What kind of idiot would try to use a dog as a projectile weapon? They make for much better melee fighters.”

“Really. They’re really going to kiss now? They never even walked the dog when they got back. The poor thing’s been cooped up inside the entire movie.”

“Serves them right. It’s not like they couldn’t talk to each other.”

“She better take the money and abscond to the coast.”

Iruka rolls his eyes and murmurs, “‘Abscond’? Really?”

Kakashi chuckles and says, “Sorry sensei, is ‘abscond’ too highfalutin for you?”

“I’ll give you highfalutin…”

Kakashi leans in and murmurs against his temple, “You can give me anything and I’ll treasure it always.”

Iruka blushes hot and is suddenly thankful for the lights being out. When the hero and their love interest come together again, ten minutes before the end of the movie, Kakashi overprojects his movements and nudges his chin against Iruka’s hair. No scent is released—Kakashi’s chakra control is excellent, of course—until Iruka lets himself purr lightly, quietly, and then Kakashi scents him and sighs against the top of his head. Iruka rubs his cheek against Kakashi’s shoulder in return, feeling his purr come stronger the longer they continue to scent each other.

It’s… nice. He knows that Kakashi deserves better than this, a pup he never wanted and a depressed co-parent, but gods, Iruka wants it. Has always wanted it. He’s still not convinced that Kakashi actually wants him the way he claims, that he’s in love with him and wants to mate. But this… he can do this.

The movie ends and Iruka is still curled up beside Kakashi when the lights come on. His purr turns more anxious as people start standing up and stretching and saying good-night to their guests, but no one comes over to tell Kakashi to leave, so they just continue holding each other and Iruka relishes in the wonder of Kakashi’s scent.

“Thank you,” Kakashi eventually says, “for inviting me. It almost felt like a date.”

Iruka grins and looks up at Kakashi. “Is it really a date if we’ve already had sex, are raising a pup together, and you’ve proposed?”

Kakashi laughs outright and rubs the back of his head with one hand while squeezing Iruka tight around his shoulders with the other. “Maa, maybe we’re a little out of order.” And then he softens slightly, and sweeps Iruka’s hair away from his face and continues, “But I don’t particularly care about the order, so long as I get to have you in the end. You and Hikari both.”

Iruka blushes and looks away, feeling hot and fluttery. “Sap,” he mutters, and then stands up and offers his hand to Kakashi. Kakashi, still soft and smiling, takes his hand and presses a masked kiss to his fingers, then stands up, too. He doesn’t let go of Iruka’s hand, and walks with him over to the door where other pairs of patients and guests are saying good-bye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kakashi says.

“Tomorrow. Right. Yes.”

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

Can he…???

“Um. Ah, yes? Sure, of course—”

Kakashi chuckles, and then spins them around so the crowd is at his back, lowers his mask, and kisses him, soft and sweet and chaste. As soon as it starts it’s over, and Iruka feels slightly lightheaded, still standing there awkwardly with his lips slightly apart and his stomach flying away through his chest. Then, Kakashi waves one last time, and leaves to go pick up Hikari.

Later, when Iruka is laying in bed, his roommate snoring peacefully, he touches his lips with his fingertips, reveling in the fact that Kakashi had kissed him. Iruka had only ever agreed to the heat share because he thought it was the only way he’d ever get to have Kakashi. And now, almost three years later, Kakashi has admitted to falling in love with him, has asked to mate with him, has kissed him and cared for him and been so sweet and kind and…

Gods, he could have this.

He could have it all.

He just needs to get better and get out of here so it can be his.

It’s raining the day Iruka walks out the door of the facility. It pours from the sky like the gods turned on a faucet, and despite his umbrella he’s soaked instantly. In a waterproof bag, he carries the various bottles of antidepressants he needs to stay on, a cocktail that Aya and the psychiatrist both agree is the best blend for him. He needs to check in with Aya in her clinic once a week for the next year or so, but everyone is hopeful that he’s going to be fine.

Standing at the gate, holding a bright yellow umbrella in one hand, and Hikari’s hand in the other, Kakashi wears a raincoat and a grin, waiting for him. He looks down at his wrist and sees the little bracelet Hikari had made for him weeks and weeks ago—the nurse had said they’d keep it safe until he’s better, and it’s perfect now, even though it’s getting wet against his skin.

“Ka-chan!” Hikari calls loudly, waving frantically, all the way up on her tippy toes. Her little green boots clash horribly with the bright yellow raincoat, but her smile is what matters. “We’re here’ta bring you home Ka-chan!”

Home.

He’s going home.

#kakairu #omegaverse #lights verse #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu discord server #my writing

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