#i hope the pom poms come across right

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

Saw some glorious headcanons and fanart of transfem nonbiney Clem, and I adore her and wanted to contribute, but before I could get a proper design for them, I was blessed with a Vision~

I don't know what Nils said to Clem, but it was Not a Vibe.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch4. in a mother’s eyes

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 4/x

ᰔ words. 10k (omg a whole number...very sexy)

a/n. hellooo my ihm friends! hope you're all doing well. ahh i'm glad to finally be posting this chapter lolol. it's a littleee off tangent from what happens in ch3, but still has some important plot developments. it does dive into feelings of depression & anxiety, so just wanted to give a warning on that! but yea other than that i hope you enjoy and see you at the bottom!! :) also so sorry if there are errors i only had time to skim through it once :((

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“Just go ahead and sign right here for me.”

You take the pen from the hospice nurse’s hand. It’s cheap black plastic with a pink fuzzy pom pom attached to the end of it with peeling glue. 

Your eyes briefly flit across the paragraphs detailed in printed ink until your gaze lands on the highlighted lines at the bottom of the page. Your signature. Spouse’s signature.

“We’ll need to have your husband come here to sign the paperwork as well, since he’ll have to add your mother on his list of dependents, but we can certainly get started on expediting this process for you since the insurance has already been pre-approved,” the nurse tells you as she accepts your signed paperwork and then neatly tucks it into one of the compartment holders. 

The afternoon goes by smoothly, with your mother surprisingly patient as she sits in the waiting room while you wait for the nurses to formally show you to her new room.

You thought that you could put off putting her in hospice for a little longer, because in all honesty, you weren’t prepared to let her go just yet. You weren’t prepared to not have her in the house anymore. But lately, she’s been putting herself in lots of danger, like attempting to take her own medications when she does not know the correct dosing, and forgetting things on the stove when she attempts to cook.

But the last straw was when you came home from a very brief run to the grocery store at night a couple days ago to see a handful of your neighbors out on the front lawn with your mother at their side. She had apparently gotten out of the house and walked down the neighborhood, then fallen on the sidewalk but was unable to get up. When your neighbors had found her, a miracle as they were just coming home from dinner and caught sight of her in the illumination of their headlights, they tried to help her get up but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even tell the firefighters that came by to help her what her name was, or what year it was, or where she lived.

It was when you realized you couldn’t even keep her safe anymore that you had to let go.

“Is that a wedding ring?” your mother asks, pointing a trembling finger to it as she lays tucked inside her new hospice bed, “are you married?”

You glance down at the ring Gojo gave you in the courthouse, almost surprised to find that you were still wearing it in good faith. “Yes, mom. I am.”

“Why am I here?” she asks you, “I don’t want to be here.”

You stiffen a little. Although you were mentally preparing yourself to answer these questions, the preparation didn’t make it any easier. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just for a little short while, okay? The doctors want to run some tests on you.”

“Who are you married to?” she asks.

“To Satoru,” you tell her, “our neighbor.”

She lets out a small gasp. “The sweet boy who fixed our A/C?”

You roll your eyes. not sure why your mother has hyper fixated on that memory with Gojo when most days she’ll look at you like you’re a stranger. “Yes mom.”

“Oh, I like him,” she tells you with an affectionate nod. She hesitates slightly, wearisome of some other thought that flashes through her mind. “How long have you been married?”

You let out a small sigh. This is already a conversation you had with her a couple days ago, and it doesn’t feel good to lie to her. It was hard enough to do once, but to have to constantly lie to her over and over again over all the smallest things just so that she stays calm and safe and happy seems to drain you of all your energy and happiness you had left in your bones.

Little white lies, that’s what they are. Harmless ones. That’s what you tell yourself to absolve yourself of the guilt.

“I’ll come back soon, okay? I’ll tell you more about him some other day,” you say to her, speaking gently in the way an adult would speak to a child. The way she used to speak to you. You could never exactly pinpoint when those roles became reversed.

You finish discussing some more insurance matters with the front-desk nurse as she puts together a small folder of documents for you. While she works, you glance at the little counter shelf that includes a plethora of pamphlets on how to deal with the complicated feelings that arise from putting a loved one in hospice care, and dealing with the emotions of having a relative with advanced stage dementia. They are pretty brochures, lovingly creased at the folds as if looked through multiple times by people who walk in and out of this facility, but seemingly only few take them home. You slip one of each into your folder when the nurse hands it to you, manage the best smile possible, and then turn on your heel to head out the hospice doors.

The sun is setting outside as you take the walk back to your car, which was purposefully parked a half mile away to afford you the luxury of a melancholic stroll. Somehow, you feel like you’ve left a piece of yourself back at the hospice. A feeling you can’t quite shake from your bones.

Your feet stop walking somewhere along the sidewalk on their own, the street lights above you flickering brighter into life as the sky is now a dusty gray with only streaks of purple. There’s a liquor store you spot across a small parking lot to your right, and you’re guided towards it, but not without a sickening feeling in your chest.

When you open the door, the bell at the top jingles, and you glance to the right where you see a lanky young man playing some sort of shooter game on his phone by the cash register. You grab a bottle of vodka, a bottle of white wine, some packs of skittles, one of the mini pizza boxes at the hot food station, and then dump it all onto the counter.

The young man scans all your items without even so much as sparing you a glance, but does take a look at your ID, then says, “Total’s $68.65, cash or card?”

“Card.”

Just before you tap your card, something displayed behind the cashier counter catches your eye. Something familiar, something tempting, something you weigh in your head about twenty times within one millisecond all due to the cortisol coursing through your veins and you eventually say, “Uh, and could I get one of those, too?”

The cashier looks behind himself to what you’re pointing at before turning around. “Sure.”

The same jingle is heard on top of your head as you leave the store, now with a burning hot mini pizza box in your hand as well as a plastic bag that carries your candy and the two clinking bottles of alcohol.

“Oh!! omg, y/n,” you hear a feminine voice call out and you’re instantly wincing. The last thing you wanted was to be bothered right now. You just wanted to go home and get drunk and then pass out on the floor of your living room. But alas, the world is small.

You turn around to see Hana come running across the sidewalk lot towards you, and when she’s about a few feet away, she glances down at your hands and all the things you were carrying. You quickly shove your last-minute purchase into your jacket pocket with a shameful conscience, and try to hide the plastic bag of liquor behind your calves. There was no hiding the pizza box, but at least that was the least incriminating.

“Oh, Hana, wow! What a coincidence seeing you here,” you say to her, pressing your lips into a small smile.

“Yeah, I um,” she points over her shoulder towards the hospice that’s standing tall in the darkness of night, cells with windows illuminated with light. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it was a prison. “Remember I told you my friend’s mom is sick and she’s at this hospice?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“I was just visiting her mom with her,” she tells you.

“Aw,” you comment, “I see, I see.”

You adore Hana, you really do. She was there for you when the whole Yuna and Choso thing went down, picking your shifts up for a good week when you couldn’t stomach going into work when your ex-best friend’s stupid face was gloating in the halls over how she stole your boyfriend. Hana was there for you when you were a new hire and all the doctors were being bitchy about a “newbie in the ED”, but she stood up for you, even cussed the fuck out of one of attendings for the whole hall to hear when you were being disrespected by one of them. She’s someone you can beam about how hot the EMT and Firefighter men that stroll into the ED are, too. A priceless companion.

And even though you two have hung out after hours sometimes, it was still always a little awkward to see a coworker outside of work.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I actually, um, was going to tell you at our shift tomorrow, but I just admitted my mom to the hospice too,” you say, “and…thanks a lot for telling me about it. I really appreciate it. It seems like a wonderful facility.”

Her eyes briefly widen with surprise before they soften once again. “Oh, that’s wonderful, love. I hope all goes well. And your little insurance scam worked! Good for you!”

“Shhh,” you hiss at her, looking around yourself with paranoia, “the feds are everywhere.”

She laughs, sweet in the air, before the sound settles and she looks at you with something reminiscent of well-intentioned concern. Her eyes flit to the plastic bag you were still holding behind your legs. “Hey…um, if…if you ever want some company when you come to visit your mom, just let me know. I hope you know you don’t have to do everything alone.”

You blink at her, sucking in a short breath to respond, but it only leaves you as a slight puff of air. There’s a silent gratitude that you give her, because it’s hard for you to express any feelings with words, but you’ve found that the people in your life who know you best can always read you without them. 

“Thank you, Hana,” you manage to say with a slight croak to your voice because you were fighting back tears.

She smiles at you. “Take care, okay? And see ya tomorroooowwwwww,” she coos at you, coming up to you to give you a small hug, a squeeze of your upper arm, and then she heads back towards the direction of the hospice.

You watch her walk away until you can’t see her anymore. And then you head towards your car.

When you arrive at your neighborhood, you park in front of Gojo’s house. You have a feeling that you won’t be able to bear the vast emptiness of your home now that your mother is elsewhere, and so you drag your feet up the stone stairs of his house with a heavy heart instead.

The spare key that he gave you weakly pushes into the keyhole with about as much force as your fingers can manage, and you realize they almost feel atrophied. 

The house is dark when you step inside, spare for the ambient street lights shining through cracked open blinds on the windows, and the curtains rustle gently from the draft of the AC, a chill that reaches you too by the time you make it to the staircase.

It doesn’t seem like Gojo’s home. A glance at the clock tells you it’s close to 8pm. You briefly consider texting him to ask where he’s at, why he’s out so late, when he’ll be home, and what’s for dinner, but you can’t even bring yourself to pull your phone out of your coat pocket.

Weak legs manage to take you upstairs and you’re about to pass through to your room when the slightly open door to the master bedroom taunts you, like a peephole into some other wordly dimension. Like the wardrobe in the chronicles of Narnia. A portal into your fake husband’s life.

With a palm pushing on the door, you slowly crack it open, and you know the anxious voices in your head are getting worse by the day when the creaking of the door hinges sounds like a lullaby to you. 

Was this an invasion of privacy? And did you really care if it was?

The room is big, with a king sized bed off to the left, sheets neatly made and duvet primly tucked under, like the way hotel beds are set up. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment when you remember you haven’t been making your bed in the mornings for the past couple days you’ve been living here so far, and you wonder if Gojo would judge you for something like that. If he’d think you were a messy or undisciplined person. If he would think less of you.

Truthfully, in a lot of ways, you still felt like a child. You barely weathered a lot of your formative adolescent years when dealing with your parents’ divorce, and you’ve had to put so much of your life on pause to take care of your mom ever since she got diagnosed. So here you were, in the body of a 29-year-old woman, yet still feeling so painfully juvenile. One that forgets to make her bed in the mornings, and on most nights can’t seem to stomach anything other than cereal for dinner. It was like you were still at a party that everyone else had left, except all it ever was is hell. Your life was such a stark contrast to the lives of other adults you’ve come across. The ones that wake up at six to go on runs, the ones that have paid off mortgages with five figures in their retirement accounts, oh god, the ones that meal prep, and the ones that, all things considered, have their lives together. The ones that don’t spend at least an hour of every day, in fetal position on their bed, sobbing until tears soak through the sheets of the pillow down to the feathers like bone, because you’re so overwhelmed with stress and preparing yourself for the grief of losing your mother which you know that, no matter how hard you try to save her from, will inevitably one day come. 

You used to cook dinner every night, make your bed every morning, and go to pilates on the weekends. Back when you were a little younger and healed and excited to live life. But now, you barely get by. Your priorities are with your mother. You can’t remember the last time you did anything nice for yourself, including something as simple as the luxury of getting to come home to a clean house because you hardly ever had time to clean it, not with all the doctor’s appointments you were driving your mother to, not with all the extra shifts you were picking up at the hospital to pay off your debt, not with all the times you felt too depressed to even get out of bed. 

But your mother is in hospice now, so you’ve made time, right? You’ve made the decision that everyone in your life has been begging you to finally do. So why do you still feel so empty inside?

By a quick survey of the room, you notice Gojo doesn’t really have many framed photos hung up on the walls or perched up on surfaces. None, actually. Only a contemporary painting above his bed frame and then a faded vintage horror movie poster plastered up near his desk. Not terribly odd, since in your experience most men don’t really do the whole “cluttering the house with millions of photos of their family” thing until they at least have a couple of kids and some purebred dog. The thought of Gojo someday setting up a little portrait photo at his desk with his wife’s—his eventual real forever wife’s, pretty face in it, posing with their two beautiful kids, makes an oddly melancholic feeling waft through you. You wonder if he would keep a two-by-two in his wallet, too.

Your feet move one in front of the other as your finger traces the surface wood of a dresser cabinet, something that looks a little vintage and oaky, in stark contrast to the modern minimalist vibe Gojo has set up in the rest of the room. A family heirloom, maybe? There’s no dust that coats your finger, which surprises you. If you were to run your finger across your dresser at home you’d have collected enough dust to snort down your windpipes like a recreational drug. But Gojo’s a real estate agent, making a living off of dressing houses up in perfect cosplay so that monetarily stable middle class families feel inclined to buy them. So you’re not exactly surprised he’s invested in keeping his own house in pristine condition too. 

There is a little bit of chaos, though. Like the shirt he has haphazardly hung over his chair at his office space over to the right. There’s a coffee mug sitting there too, porcelain and reflecting the moon light off, but upon peering inside you see that it’s half empty with stale coffee. He’s got pens sprawled across the desk, in a fashion that suggests he accidentally knocked them over in a rush, and slowly, like some grounding exercise, you place them one by one back into the paper mache pencil holder. It briefly occurs to you that he has a lot of paper mache containers of sorts around the house. You lift up the pencil cup, turning it in your hand until your eyes catch something written on it with glittery pink gel pen.

i luv u unkle toru! -yur BEST FREND 4EVUR juno!!! :D

A small smile makes it onto your face. The handwriting was messy, more like scratches than smooth lines, and nothing less than what you would expect of a child. You remember making paper mache and clay trinkets at preschool for your mom and dad when you were younger. And you’re sure if you were brave enough to open the box of memorabilia that sits in your attic some day, you’d see your own scratchy scribbled handwriting on them. An innocence that is long gone and buried, never again to be delicately placed on desks or counters for all the living.

The draft from the AC reaches you once again, brushing over your skin and causing a chill to shiver down your spine. It kicks at the curtains as well, causing them to ruffle up towards you, baring the dark outside world into the streets. And you notice in that momentary glance that there’s a roof just outside the window that overlooks the backyard. A roof? Spotted by a depressed woman going through a quarter life crisis? There was nothing more tempting than that. 

The window was easy to open, which only caused unease over the revelation of how easy it would be for someone to rob this house. You make a mental note to tell Gojo to get a ring camera or security system of some sort since he doesn’t seem to have one, but you can already picture him telling you something about how statistically low the crime rates are in this neighborhood compared to all the other neighborhoods, and then you’d tell him that it’s just for your peace of mind. But whether he’d compromise or not after that, you’re really not sure.

You take a seat on the roof, a little scared as you sit because of the slight slope, but it’s comfortable once you’re settled. You sit criss-cross-apple-sauce, staring out into the neighborhood of perfectly lined up suburban houses. You’ve got a better view into some neighbors' backyards, noticing that a couple of them had pools while some of them have big gardens. There's a cat resting up on a fence in the distance. A car drives by with headlights illuminating everything in its proximity briefly before zooming off. You glance up at the sky, and notice the full moon, but it’s too cloudy to see any stars. Or perhaps it was just the light pollution from the lamps making it difficult to see.

On instinct, your hand reaches inside your coat pocket for your phone, but your knuckles hit something else instead. A moment of brief confusion flickers through your head, but then you immediately recall the last-minute purchase you made at the gas station.

Your hand pulls out the object, and then you stare down at it. Squinting your eyes a little, because it’s a sight that feels familiar but also one you haven’t seen in so long: a pack of twenty Marlboro red cigarettes. 

You’ve tried a lot of things to manage your stress over the years. Excessively working out, eating a lot of sugar, going on six hour hikes to touch grass, flirting with random men at bars, fucking Choso until he was rendered speechless, multiple types of antidepressants, you almost tried smoking weed once with your roommate in college but you wimped out last second. But the habit that had gotten you through the years of 21 to 24 is held loosely in your hand right now. It’s been five years since you quit, but resolve was often a fickle thing. As the saying goes, once an addict, always an addict. 

There’s a brief moment of hesitation as you slowly peel the plastic off of the back, but then it all comes back to you like a reflex you’ll never forget up to where you slide a cigar up out and then pinch it between your two fingers. Forgetting to buy a lighter with the cigarettes is definitely something you would do, but because you remembered it was something that you would do, you remembered not to do it. The flick of the flame coming to life is ASMR you didn’t know you were painfully nostalgic for, and you balance the cigarette between your lips in that sort of movie-star way people used to obsess over back in the day. But just as you bring the lighter up to the end of the cigarette, and just before you can light it—

A hand shoots out in your periphery, grabbing your wrist and entirely stalling the movement.

You gasp, lips parting enough for the cigarette to fall from them and into your lap. The hand wrapped around your wrist is large and masculine, and you briefly consider screaming, but when you snap your neck to look at the perpetrator, you see Gojo crouched down next to you on this roof. You notice he’s wearing a black suit, a tie that was loosely secure hanging from his neck into the space between his spread thighs as he’s crouched, and whatever gel he had in his hair from earlier only barely remains as strands fall over his forehead haphazardly. He looks like he’s on the other end of a long work day. 

You blink at him, expression plastered with surprise, but his is only earnest. With breathtaking blue eyes that you realize he could easily use to surrender a person just by looking at them, like the way he’s looking at you right now. His lips are pressed together into a firm line, as if to suppress some emotion, but the slight crease to his brow makes you feel like you’re in trouble somehow. Like he was silently scolding you for something.

“I—” you stutter.

He lets go of your wrist and discreetly pulls the lighter out of your hand. And then his hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes you were balancing on your knee, but on some reflex that you don’t even think about, you try to snatch them away from him, and now you’re both tugging at the same pack of cigarettes.

“y/n,” he says, “let go.”

“No,” you say stubbornly.

He sighs and tugs a little harder. “Give them to me.”

“But—” you stammer, voice becoming softer to see if that’d work on him, “I’m…” Your grip on them tightens. “I’m stressed.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, then finally loses his patience and snatches them right out of your hand. He stands up from his crouched down position to toss the pack off to the side onto the roof somewhere. You’re surprised when he lets out a sigh and sits down next to you on the roof, as if he felt the obligation to. His legs stretch out in front of him, but still bent slightly at the knees, and he leans backwards with his body weight braced on his palms laid flat on wood paneling behind him. “There are better ways to relieve stress,” he tells you candidly. 

“Like what?” you ask, and just when he opens his mouth to speak, you clarify, “and don’t say sex.”

He shuts his mouth and his eyes flit up to the sky for a brief second. “Damn. I didn’t have a back-up answer.” 

You roll your eyes, releasing a deep breath, then draw your knees to your chest before resting your chin on top of them. 

“I didn’t know you smoke,” he says after a century-long minute. 

You wince a little, because you were half hoping he was going to just drop the subject all together. 

You bite your lip nervously and hug your knees to your chest tighter as if to hide yourself from him. “I don’t. Well, I haven’t. Um, not for a while.”

“Huh. I see,” he says.

Another silence passes, and as he shuffles next to you, the fabric of his suit brushes against the fabric of your coat, and you’ve become entirely too aware of the feeling.

“So,” he says, breaking the awkward silence, “your mom’s in hospice now?”

You nod, enthusiastic enough to where you won’t look like you’re entirely depressed about it.

“That’s good,” he says, “no issues with the insurance?”

You shake your head. “They need you to sign some papers by the end of the week though,” you tell him. “We’ll have to go in person.”

He nods slowly to affirm he’ll make time for it. “I really hope things get better for your mom,” he says, voice soft as he stares off into neighbors homes like you had been doing ten minutes ago. You see the cat that was resting on the fence get up, do a big stretch, and start walking along the length of the fence. Your eyes briefly glance at Gojo, and you notice his gaze is tracing the cat’s path. 

“My—” you start, hesitant all of a sudden by the vulnerability you already feel swelling within you, most definitely due to sitting with someone on a rooftop late at night, but you decide that you’ll be nice to him for once, “…my mom seems to remember you a lot. More than she remembers me.” You let out a small humoring laugh, as if that fact doesn’t completely destroy you. “She was blabbering to me again for the seventh time about how you apparently fixed our AC.” You try to bite your tongue, but can’t help it when you say, “although I’m pretty sure you just pressed a bunch of buttons until it started working again.”

“Yup. That’s exactly what I did.”

You roll your eyes and sigh.

Another awkward silence.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say.

“Sure.” His voice sounds deeper, like he’s sleepy. 

“Why did you agree to marry me? That’s not something people just do out of nowhere.”

He glances over at you, and you flicker your eyes to him. “Why? Having regrets?” he teases, with a slight nudge of his elbow to your side. 

“Just answer me.”

He lifts his palms up from behind him and leans forward, placing his hands on his knees instead. “I don’t know. If something I could do would help someone out that much, I wasn’t going to say no.”

You hum quietly, still confused by his intentions. But you’re too jaded to question them.

“It costs nothing to be nice,” he adds. 

You run soothing circles over your thigh through the fabric of your jeans. For some reason, your mind wanders to Choso. Thinking of all the years you wasted staying with him even though you knew his affections were long gone, just because you didn’t want to break his heart. Only to realize that you never had that privilege in the first place. 

“I think,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you draw your knees closer to your chest, “that sometimes it does.”

A gust of autumn wind breezes by, ruffling the trees that the two of you are at eye-level with at the moment. You're pretty sure you’ve completely lost Gojo’s interest at this point, where he’s finally too tired to deal with your oddly cryptic attitudes and overall generally displeasing vibe, assuming this based solely on his prolonged silence beside you. You’re ready for him to get up and abandon you here on this roof, left to ponder every single thing you’ve done wrong in your life. It was any second now.

“Sometimes,” he instead speaks up, and it’s so surprising to you that you jolt a little bit, “you can do everything right, and people will still find a way to fuck you over. But I don’t think that’s any reason to stop being nice to others.”

You glance over at him, your eyes widening slightly, but he just continues to peer off straight into the night. His blinks are slow, lingering on being closed for a moment before he opens them again, and you’re mesmerized by the sight. The skin under his eyes is slightly dark from exhaustion, heavy with character that makes you aware that he’s just a person too. And for what feels like the tenth time this week, you realize that he’s—…handsome. And for what feels like the tenth time this week, your heart flutters in your chest.

He scoffs suddenly and dusts his hands off. “I sound like a fucking youth pastor.” He lets out an exhale before suddenly standing up onto his feet before you can think more on it. He looks off into the night again and lets out another exhale that sounds more like a sigh this time. “God, it’s getting a lot colder these days. Might have to start running the heater.”

You blink up at him with no commentary to add. 

He looks down at you. His face is relaxed, but you can tell those eyes are distracted. A shimmering blue ocean in its own world while he attempts to stay present in this one. 

He holds his hand out to you, and you stare at it blankly like you’ve got no clue what he intends for you to do with it. But you finally take the hint and curl your hand around his palm so that he can pull you up onto your feet too.

You stumble a little, falling forward from the sudden blood flow to your brain, but he holds you steady by the strong grip of his hands on your elbows. He’s close to you, close enough to where you can smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne. Something different than that expensive one he wore to the courthouse, but it’s comforting somehow. A fragrance that’s more him. And you feel nervous as you look up at him underneath pale moonlight. 

He lets go of your elbows. You feel cold from the loss of his touch. But his right hand moves to gently hold your left hand in his palm, holding it curled as his thumb barely grazes the stone you wear on your ring finger; the one he gave you.

The way his thumb prods at the silver band is like he’s inspecting its quality, as if it has to pass some test to be worthy of sitting on your finger. Or maybe just any finger, if you were to quell the delusion. You’re not sure if he’s satisfied with his inspection.

“Where did you get it—” you blurt out.

His gaze flickers up to your face briefly before he’s back to examining the ring. “It was my mom’s.”

Your mouth gapes slightly in shock, heart dropping a little in your chest, and all of a sudden you feel guilty. Guilty that he put his mother’s ring on your finger for something that was fake, something that was essentially a business deal, something exchanged to you out of fraud when it was a precious family heirloom that should be exchanged with love. And maybe he didn’t care about it much, some people don’t care about the sentiments of objects. But your mind thinks of the oaky vintage dresser in his room, so out of place in the aesthetic of its surroundings, a decision you can only imagine him of all people, mr. “everything in this house has to look like an IKEA catalog”, would do if the dresser held some importance to him that was more than meets the eye. And so you’re compelled to think that maybe this ring did, too. 

“Why would you give me this?! You could’ve just gotten a cheap fake diamond ring from a pawn shop and called it a day,” you ask him, suddenly feeling burdened by it.

“Well I wasn’t exactly given much time to think of other options.”

“But—” you start, only to realize you have no counter arguments for that.

He lets out a huh noise, like the sound someone makes when they’re pleasantly surprised by something, as he looks down at your hand that he still held in his. “It’s kinda crazy that it fits you perfectly. I wasn’t sure.”

Your mind wanders to when he slipped the ring onto your finger in the courtroom, followed by the kiss. Soft, sweet, the lingering warm sensation of his palm on your cheek as he cupped your face, the same way those heartthrob actors do in all those romance movies and kdramas that you watch on Friday nights while snuggled up in a blanket, wondering when anyone will ever kiss you like that. You remember the ghost sensation of his hand hovering over the small of your back, fingers lightly grazing the nape of your neck, his frame blocking out everything around you as he kissed you, just to pull away and for the two of you to then pretend like it never happened, as if it wasn’t one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever known.

You slowly pull your hand out of his, the moment feeling too tender for your liking, and you clear your throat before flitting your eyes up to his. 

“Rule #1,” you remind him with a soft whisper, “no touching.”

You purse your lips, watching his round eyes blink once, then twice, before he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. He rocks back and forth on his heels for a few seconds, nodding slowly in submission, and then he turns on them to head back to the house. You’re standing a little stunned from the abrupt ending to this trance of a moment on the roof, and you’re also a little surprised with how your chest is heaving a little bit with fast breaths, but you eventually snap out of it to follow him inside too. 

You two make it back inside the house, with little words exchanged. You pretend to not notice the way Gojo tilts his head at his desk, like he’s confused about why it looks tidier than when he left it. You’re prepared to feign innocence or ignorance, but he doesn’t press you about it. 

“Y’know,” he says from behind you, his chest briefly brushing against the back of your head as he pushes the bedroom door in front of you open so that you can head out into the loft, “those oversized 1800s-esque nightgowns you’ve been wearing around the house kinda make you look like a less-hot version of Ebenezer Scrooge.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

“Sign right here for me, sir.”

You watch as the nurse slides the papers across the high-raised counter of the hospice nursing desk towards Gojo, his eyebrows narrowing as his eyes skim the words on the paper and land at the highlighted lines where he’s been intended to sign. You feel nervous for some reason, as if he’d suddenly find something disagreeable and refuse to sign, then take you to the courthouse first thing to finalize a divorce and send you off to prison while claiming he was blackmailed into the whole marriage in the first place.

Instead, he pulls a pen from the chest pocket of his suit jacket, clicking the end of it and scribbling his signature onto the paper with some jet black ink that looks like it takes a second to dry. How pretentious of him. The pink pom-pom pen was right there.

The nurse behind the counter continues to chat with him about something, blah blah dependents, blah blah tax claims, blah blah you’ll receive an itemized bill in the mail. You’re trying your best to eavesdrop in on the conversation, but most of your senses are being occupied by examining all your surroundings. When you dropped your mother off at the hospice, your feelings were at the forefront of conscience, but now that you’ve had a couple days to come down from that overwhelming emotional high, you’re here to scope out the quality of this place you’ve just dumped your mom at.

The facility is clean and sleek, with a color theme of red and an ocean blue across the signs, the furniture, even with the paperwork they hand out. All the workers had color-coded scrubs based on their occupation or specialty, and none of them had stains on the fabric. You take a glance down at the modest leather pumps you were wearing past the creases of the long skirt, and notice that the floor was shimmering off their reflection in a perfect polish. It wasn’t bad, this place.

“Thanks, you too,” you hear Gojo say to the nurse behind the counter. He has a professional smile on his face, but still kind and genuine, which makes the woman at the computer something bashful and unable to make eye contact. He folds something that looks like a receipt into his chest pocket before tucking his pen back in there too and then turns to face you. You make a mental note to pay him back for whatever he just paid for, at least once you move some money around. 

Your eyebrows lift, feeling a little dazed as you blink at him blankly.

“Alright,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, the sound of his shoes on the polished hospital floors satisfactorily tapping in your ears as he took a couple steps towards you, “where’s your mom’s room?”

“Huh?”

“What’s her room number?” he asks you.

“Y-You wanna go see her??”

“Of course I want to,” he says, “she’s my mother-in-law.”

You roll your eyes and pet the fabric of your skirt to smooth the wrinkles out. “You’re getting a little too invested in this role of fake husband.”

“I get to annoy you all day and ride the adrenaline rush of committing a federal crime,” he says, “of fucking course I’d get invested.”

You sigh, tossing some of your hair to behind your shoulder before glancing up at the signs, squinting slightly to locate the ward where your mother’s room is, before you hear an extremely high-pitched and somewhat catty feminine voice call out from behind you. You glance at Gojo’s face as he peers off to whoever’s behind you, and you see him visibly stiffen a little.

“Is that Dayton county’s sexiest realtooorrr???” the voice purrs, and you turn on your heel to see a blonde bombshell of a woman clacking her kitten heels down the glistening floors of the hospice, with another brunette bombshell just a few paces behind her. Bombshell #2 sighs something like “it issss” before they walk right up to your fake husband and take turns at giving him a playful squeeze of his bicep. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping at the sight. 

“Wow! Ladies, so–...so great to see you two,” he says out of polite obligation, and you immediately clock the fact that he doesn’t address them by name.

Bombshell #1 turns to look at you, all of her hair moving as one solid entity with the motion from all the hair spray that’s probably holding it up, and she points at you with a long slender finger that narrows into a french-tip. “Oh who’s this?? Another one of your clients??”

“Oh, no, she’s my–”

“I’m his wife,” you interrupt him, irritated for some reason. 

Both the women chirp something out like oh! before their faces twist with confusion. 

“I didn’t know you were married,” Bombshell #2 says in a thick New Jersey accent.

Gojo lifts his left hand up, the silver band on his hand glimmering under fluorescent hospice lighting. “Very happily,” he says, as if someone was holding a gun to his head.

Bombshell #1 crosses her arms, and you try not to stare at how nice her boobs look in the low scoop-neck jaguar print top she was wearing. You were no better than a man. And now you’re pissed off at the idea of Gojo glancing down too, but a flick of your gaze up to his face tells you he’s safe. For now. 

“You weren’t married when I asked you if you were a month ago,” Bombshell #1 sneers at him. It’s true, the math wouldn’t make sense, but in his defense, this marriage was a fraud.

“Or when you took me out for dinner last week after I bought my house,” Bombshell #2 snarls with an undertone of hurt. 

Gojo clears his throat beside you before pointing at Bombshell #2. “How is that, by the way?” he asks in an attempt to change the subject, “the half acre down on Maple Ave, right? You, uh, enjoying the pool?”

The woman let out an offended scoff and–were her eyes sheening with tears?? She puts her hands on her hips. “No. Mine is the three bedroom house with the cedar gazebo on 14th street.”

Her friend next to her rolls her eyes and smacks her gum between her cheek. “I’m the one that bought the half acre down on Maple Ave, jerk. Ugh!” She grabs her friend’s arm with a high-pitched hmph noise leaving her throat, and you can hear the other one sniffling subtly as she wobbles on her heels with her friend’s pull of her arm. 

Right before leaving the two of you alone, Bombshell #1 turns to you and says, “I hope you find someone who treats you better,” and then they storm off together down the hallway, their perfectly blow-dried hair bouncing in sync with each stomp.

You blink at the sight, a little flabbergasted from the interaction, and then flit your faze up to Gojo. You see him awkwardly scratching at the back of his head with a grimace on his stupidly handsome face. 

“That’s what you get for being a manwhore,” you tell him.

“I’m not a manwhor–”

“You went on a date with another woman while you were maaaaarrrieeeddd?!” you coo as you let out a fake gasp and slap your cheeks with your hands, “despicable, really.”

He lets out some disgruntled noise, the source coming from deep within his throat. “No. We weren’t fake-married yet,” he vindicates himself, “and it wasn’t a date. I just bought her dinner as a congrats for buying a house. Not a big deal. I do it for all my clients.”

“Satoru. You do realize you’re leading these women on, right? I mean, I’ve seen the way you talk to them. Even if you think you’re just being friendly, please know that your definition of friendly is most people’s definition of flirting.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true.”

He raises an eyebrow as he glances down at you. “Alright, how come this flirting in disguise of friendliness hasn’t worked on you then?”

You scoff in disbelief before crossing your arms. Maybe you did deserve a better fake husband. “You’re never friendly with me. You’re always rude to me.”

“What? I’m not always rude to you.”

“Well, you’re certainly much more rude to me than you are to other women,” you say, tapping the tip of your shoe with irritation.

“Can we not do this right now? We’re in the middle of a hospice.” 

“God, you’re such a cop-out,” you mumble as you forcefully push past him towards the hallway that’ll lead you to your mother. You can hear that Gojo’s on your tail, following you down one of the more dimly lit hallways, and you can tell he needs to stall the strides of his Daddy Longlegs to not overtake your pace.

“What the fuck is a cop-out?” he asks you from behind.

“Look it up on urban dictionary, Grandpa. Unless you don’t know what the Internet is, either,” you spat. 

You waltz right up to your mother’s room just in time to see a nurse making her way out with a clipboard in her hands. She glances over to you when she sees you approaching in her periphery.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she asks.

“Is it alright if we visit my mother?” you ask her.

“Oh! Sure, let me just clean her bed pan really quick.”

Your brow furrows. “B-Bedpan?? Why is she using a bedpan??”

The nurse stops in her movements. “Well, yesterday and today, that’s just what she has decided to use.”

You immediately become hostile. “That’s not right. She never needed to use one at home. Why is she suddenly using one here? Is that not a clear sign of deterioration? The restrooms must not be kept well enough here if she doesn’t want to use them.”

The nurse becomes something meek, her eyes widening as her mouth gapes slightly. “Ma’am,” she squeaks out, “we see this commonly with patients as they begin to adjust to hospice life. We’ll urge her to use the restroom, but as of right now, we need to prioritize what she finds most comfortable.”

Your expression softens, your shoulders relaxing from their tense position, and you duck your head a little with guilt. “Right…I’m sorry.”

The nurse presses her lips together with a well-meaning smile before shuffling into the room and closing the door behind her. You sigh and lean your back against the wall next to the number plate, cheeks flushing slightly from the confrontation. You have no idea how loud your voice was or who heard you. But you try to convince yourself that you’re just stressed and trying to look out for your mother, although the guilt still sits.

You glance up to see Gojo staring at you with slightly wide eyes, his hands shoved into his pockets, and he tilts his head to study your expression.

“What?” you snap at him.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Just fine, thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Satoru,” you cut his questioning off by raising a palm into the air, “just—…just stop.”

His brow furrows together slightly, but before he can show any further concern, the nurse exits the room and holds the door open for the two of you. 

“All set!” she chirps, and Gojo moves to hold the door open in her stead, and then the nurse bolts down to disappear somewhere down the hallway.

You hear Gojo let out a small huff of a scoff as he stares down in the direction the nurse ran off in. “Glad to know I’m not the only one that’s scared of you.”

You roll your eyes and walk into the room through the open door.

Your mother lays in her bed, looking out the window with her hands resting on top of layers of white linen sheets, her skin looking slightly paler than usual. You approach her bedside slowly and she finally turns her head to look at you.

“Hi mom,” you gently greet her, sitting down on the stool beside her bed, “how are you doing?”

Her eyes dart across the features of your face, and you briefly glance towards the wall to the right where you see Gojo standing from a slight distance.

“Oh, hi dear,” she says with a smile, and relief washes over you.

You match her smile with your own. “Mom, I brought someone here to see you.” You glance over at Gojo, who starts to close distance now as he approaches the foot of the bed, “this is Satoru, my husband.”

Your mother’s eyes widen, “Oh! I know him,” she scoldingly swats a hand at you, like you’ve embarrassed her somehow by assuming that she doesn’t know who he is, “he’s my neighbor!”

You sigh, “yes mom, the one that fixed the A/C?” You attempt to finish her sentence for her.

She looks confused for a moment, but slightly nods as if to avoid any further confusion for herself. “But—…but, why…” she trails off and then looks at you, “I’m sorry, are you my nurse?”

Your shoulders drop slightly. “No, mom, it’s me. Your daughter. Do you remember?”

Her face scrunches before it entirely relaxes to keep some image of composure despite the haze you know she feels in her head. “Oh…yes, yes…my little girl. I remember you, of course!”

Your eyes become layered with a slight sheen of tears, “I’m glad.”

“Where’s your father?” she asks, “he said he’d bring me some…oh dear, what—…he said he’d bring me tea. I’ve been waiting.”

“Mom, dad is—” you pause for a moment to think on your feet. You could either tell the truth, or a little white lie. You never know what to do. And either one comes with either guilt or sorrow. “Well, he’ll be here soon, I just wanted to come see you.”

“Oh okay…” she trails off, her eyes squinting at you once more with that same look of confusion on it, but then they drift towards Gojo. “Oh you’re a very handsome young man! You look just like my neighbor.”

Your eyes flicker up to Gojo, and he walks up to your side by your mom’s bed. “Yes, Mrs. l/n, I am your neighbor.”

“With the lemon tree!”

“The avocado tree,” you correct her with a small sigh. “And he’s my husband mom. And also our neighbor.”

“Oh I see I see…” she says, looking up at him, and in a moment that shocks you, she holds her hand up for him to take.

There’s a slight moment of surprise on his face too, but he accepts her frail hand in his, and you glance over to your mom to see her look at him with some look of peace on her face.

“Oh, sit down here, won’t you?” she tells him, and you both blink at her in a moment of hesitation.

He pulls a stool up to the side of the bed right next to you and takes a seat down onto it. Your mother holds his hand with both of hers now, soothing her palm over the back of it before she taps on it lightly.

“Oh, my little girl is very sweet. She would bring me flowers from the garden when she was,” she glances at you, confused once more, “well I remember her when she was so little but she looks…a little older now. Ah, but she would bring me such pretty flowers.”

Your heart aches in your chest. You never knew what version of you your mother would remember. Some days, you’re still supposed to be an angsty teenager that shuts doors in her face, some days you were just as you are right now, and other days, you were just her little girl. And it confused her, the image of not seeing you in the way that she remembers. In the only way she knew how.

“You’ll take good care of my sweet girl, won’t you?” she asks him.

And it knocks the wind out of you.

It drops your heart to the center of the earth.

The thought that, after so many moments where she doesn’t remember you, she still knows that you’re someone she wants to keep safe.

Your mouth gapes slightly, tears welling in your eyes and you try your best to blink them away, but you see Gojo’s hand slip out from being held by your mother’s hands, to instead use both of his to hold hers. Your eyes snap to his face, and you see that same earnest expression you’ve been growing used to seeing these days. 

“Yes,” he responds, eye contact level with hers, “I will.”

A small puff of air leaves your lips, a single tear streaming down your cheek and you quickly swipe your trembling fingers to remove any evidence of it before you huff out a shaky, “excuse me.” And then you’re standing up off the stool, and in a few hurried steps across the room as more tears continue to stream down your face, you make it to the door to push out into the suffocating air of the hallway.

It’s hard to breathe, huffs and puffs barely leaving your lips as you struggle to pull air into your lungs while you storm down the hallway at a fast pace, your heels clicking underneath you in a way that only sets you off further. Suddenly, all the sounds around you make you sick to your stomach, a wave of nausea washing over you, and your nose burns with the intensity of the tears that continue to stream down your face. A few hospice staff look at you with concerned expressions, and you eventually reach a heavy-duty door that leads you out into a secluded staircase hallway where the dim lighting serves to relax at least some of your senses, but you still feel like you’re about to pass out.

Even in the haze of your emotions, there’s this glimmer of a memory that comes to mind. One from when you were younger and you were pushed on the playground at school. You cried and cried and cried in your mother’s arms, but even then, you didn’t want her to baby you. You would say to her, I’m a big girl now! in that same way a child knows nothing of what it truly means to brave the world. 

That little girl had no idea that one day, there would be moments where she wouldn’t be remembered as her mother’s little girl anymore. 

No matter how old you grow, you will always be my little girl, your mother’s voice echoes to you, the feeling of her squeezing you in her arms as she holds your sobbing little form in hers casting a ghost sensation across your skin.

In a mother’s eyes, you’ll always be her baby.

And that’s why it hurts.

Because it’s all fake.

It’s phony.

It’s not real.

This arrangement you have with Gojo.

And if your mother were to die tomorrow, there would be no one to take care of her little girl anymore.

Not in the way she believes there will be.

Of all the white lies, this one pierces you straight through your heart in a way that leaves you gasping for air.

Amidst your whirlwind of thoughts, you hear the door push open harshly, and when you glance over, you see Gojo standing in this dimly lit hallway as he turns his head quickly to the left and sees you standing there.

“Hey,” he says, catching his breath as he lightly jogs up to you, “hey, hey, hey,” he repeats with more concern now when he sees the state you’re in, and he seamlessly pulls you into a hug, your cheek pressing against his chest that feels warm even through the fabric of his suit jacket and shirt, and that familiar scent of him completely engulfs you.

You sob quietly, wiping your snot on his tie and your tears on the felt fabric beside it, your hands balled into tiny fists at your chest, squeezed between the two of you. You feel him tuck your head under his chin and his arms wrap around you tighter. You don’t even realize it at first, but suddenly, it has become easier to breathe.

Then, you wail, and you cry, and you sob, because you don’t have the words to even explain how you feel, about not just this, but with everything, a buildup of everything that has been suffocating you in your life that just comes crashing down on you all at once.

“I know,” he says, his palm resting on the back of your head as he holds your face to his chest, his voice soothing in your ears while you sob until there’s nothing left to cry. “I know.”

You two stay like this for another minute or so as you come down from the cries, your remnant sniffling echoing in the hallway while you wipe more of your snot on his jacket. You make the first move to pull your face away from his chest, but he still keeps his arms wrapped around you when you look up at him.

With your gaze darting across his face, you take in the blue in his eyes. Eyes that are looking at you so softly it’s suddenly hard to breathe once more. And when those eyes flit to your lips, your mouth parts slightly as you two breathe in unison.

It’s possible that you could have dreamed the moment you saw him lean down slightly towards you, his eyes still set on your lips, but it didn’t matter because you’re pushing him away with strong fists before you can even register the thought in your head.

He lets go of you entirely, his eyes wide once more, and you glance down at your feet. 

A tender moment, just like on the roof, broken just because you can’t handle that—…that way, that intense way that he looks at you. New rule, no looking at me longingly like you want to kiss me. I won’t allow it.

“I want to go home,” you whisper, still examining your shoes. And you suddenly feel embarrassed that he had to see you this way. He’s supposed to be scared and intimidated by you, not holding you in his arms while you cry. 

He’s silent for a moment, but you can tell he’s searching for things to say. “You don’t want to say bye to your mom before we go?”

You swipe your palm against the wetness on your cheek. “No. I just want to go home.”

“y/n,” he tried to convince you.

You finally look up at him. “Please.”

He breathes in a few breaths as he studies the features of your face in a way that makes you feel so seen that it’s frightening. But he slowly nods, then says,

“Okay.”

.

.

.

.

.

[end of chapter 4]

a/n. hi friendsss i hope you enjoyed :'') yea like i said at the a/n in the beginning, this chapter is a slight off-tangent from last chapter, but ch5 will continue with a lot of the stuffs that were brought up in ch3. but yea i wanted to explore the whole process of emotions reader would go through putting her mom in hospice, since it kinda felt like a big thing, hence why it got its own chapter. aaa i hope to see you in the next one!! much love from me :''0

➸ take me to chapter five!

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[strawberymilku]

Wet Dreams

featuring: Soft Dom!Imbitator Lunae x Afab!Reader

genre: dub con, dragon kink, mating season, breeding kink, friends to lovers, slightly yandere, masturbation, creampie, softdom, double penetration, p to v, praises, slaps, unprotected sex, a little bit of cussing, edging

a/n: well it's just dan heng in dragon form getting horny and the reader was the trailblazer in the astral express crew, he was so obsessed and he was a bitch in heat. slightly dub con, but the reader has a crush on him and he knows it.

word: 2.8k little this time

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It has been days already, Dan Heng couldn’t stop thinking about her, he couldn’t get enough of her, he looked at the polaroid picture that March 7th took of her, a smile shining that the Sun they usually see in the Astral Express, he has been jacking off her photos, he bought secretly, no, taken secretly away from March’s bedroom, he pants and moaned all over her name, fisting all over his palm, giving a few pumps before he orgasms. He has been having wet dreams because of her.

He was infatuated all over again, her beautiful eyes glistening, he wished to cum all over your face, but he should restrain further. That fellow trailblazer, it is her fault, she enchanted him like a witch, it’s all fault isn’t it, her laughter, the kindness she has shown. “Not enough,” he said to himself, fastening his pace to jerk off, some whimpers and babbles coming out, he need to prove his love, by cumming all over her photo. She was her guilty pleasure, he couldn’t stop himself, he is going feral, on his bed, looking at her the picture in the white frame, eyeing at her pink juicy lips, then back to her eyes, he closed his eyes, throwing his head off, imagining her mouth all over his double cock, taking turns to suck it off.

After minutes of monitoring her with his secret camera, her groaning and fighting those monsters on the Herta’s Spaceship, was an additional to his imagination, he bit his lips, he couldn’t help but cum all over her selfie with him, shooting all the semen across the polaroid.

He sighed, yet he wasn’t satisfied, it has been seventh pictures he ruined already, those pretty pictures, he reminded next time to do an extra copy, he threw the picture in the bin, hissing himself, cussing himself for not controlling himself, after the post-nut clarity he had. He got out of his room, to go clean his right hand. But there is a fact he didn’t knew. It was mating season, no wonder why he was so worked up. It is yet to find out.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It has been over a week that the trailblazer was busy with Aurem Alley Market Management, he finally saw her, sitting in the Parlor Car, enjoying coffee with Pom-Pom and Himeko. A blush crept across his face, she had become more prettier than ever, or is it the mating season, driving him into thinking in a shojou filter. He couldn’t differentiate.

“Hi, Y/N.” he cleared his throat, to greet her. The girl just smiled, seeing in his dragon form since the last time they saw was in Xianzhou Luofu, “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” the girl spoke softly, smiling at her fellow Astral Express Crew Member.

“Been long, you didn’t reply to my message,” that is true, she was too busy to even open his text message. “I was busy with Bailu, but well I’m back to the train station,” they walked out of the Parlor Car, ready to rest for the evening.

Dan Heng opened his mouth, but he closed it again, staring at her walking in front of her, her body was so perfect, the thoughts of lust desires betraying his self morale. The effect is working on him as if he chucked on aphrodisiac chocolates just now.

‘Touch her,’

‘No, she trusts me. I can’t do that.’

‘Doesn’t March said she has a crush on you?’

There was hope when she turned her back to look at him, she was staring at his dragon horns, intensely. So it wasn’t only him huh? He felt uncomfortable as the girl was gazing at his horns, there were stars outside their window. It was a beautiful site to actually confess, but his throat suppressed to say any words.

The female decided to break the ice. “So can I touch it?’

"No, you can't touch my horns." he sighed, that was his most sensitive part, if she does it, he might go feral and lose his control.

"Why???" she whined, even made March 7th to back up with her, but their best friend decided to go back to her own room, leaving them alone in the hallway.

"It's a private thing, okay? Stop asking."

Dan Heng tried to keep his expression neutral, though it was impossible to not look irritated. Despite his protests, he still smiled warmly inside, knowing that she was more interested in him than his kin.

Still, he couldn't deny the urge to pull his tail closer to him. Was it because he felt flustered or was he just possessive? Not knowing the answer, Dan Heng grunted, frowning at her.

"Just once, please, just once.." she mumbled, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

‘Just once wouldn’t hurt me,’ he thought to himself.

"... Fine, just this once... But only for a second." Dan Heng conceded, his body language showing his reluctance. The corners of his lips slightly curved up, a hint of a shy smile, while his cheeks darkened. "Don't go crazy and grope all over my tail either."

She caressed his horns slowly, which he let out a moan out accidentally, which gave her some ideas, giving him a smug expression. "Oh, so you're sensitive here?" she touched more.

Dan Heng shuddered in response to her touch, his cheeks flushing. He couldn't stop his eyes from closing in bliss as his hand brushed over his sensitive horns.

"I can stop if you want.." she let go of his horns, she felt bad for asking such request and in her eyes he looked uncomfortable.

"No... No, don't stop," Dan Heng whispered without hesitation, his eyes half-lidded. It was as if her touch had him completely under her spell.

"I-It's just my body responding this way... to your touches." Dan Heng said breathlessly. His dragon form was indeed responding to her teasing, making him want to surrender to herr every desire.

It suddenly hit him that he was during the mating season, which was risky.

She let out a few giggles, he didn't want to admit he was affected by the mating period. "Should I leave you alone?" she turned a bit of considerate, looking at the male panting.

"Wait, don't go," Dan Heng begged, his breath still short and heavy.

"Please, I... I need you here with me." He confessed, his eyes pleading for her not to leave him alone during this period.

"You can get through it, let me get you tea, so you calm down," she pat his cheeks slowly, walking to the Parlor Car to grab a tea from Mr. Welt.

"No, you know this won't get better until I... I..."

Dan Heng trailed off, his words drowned out by his panting breaths. He felt like he was losing this battle of will, and soon, he was sure he would give in.

"Please, don't leave yet, at least not until after..." He continued, his words almost a whisper.

The usual brain over body man is losing his wits, is holding on the clueless person's arm.

"What?" the girl questioned him. He finally confessed he was affected during the mating season. A blush crept on both of their cheeks.

"Just stay here, okay?" Dan Heng's request sounded somewhat like a needy plea.

With his brain still clouded by his bodily desires, Dan Heng couldn't come up with a proper explanation.

"Just... Please," he reiterated, his hands coming up to grab her arms, squeezing them tightly.

"If we stay further-, I think I will ask tips and help from Mr. Welt for you for the birth control tips," she reassured her male friend, but he couldn't let go of her body, back hugging her, with a growl.

"No... No more talking... Just..." The trailblazer struggled to express his thoughts as she could feel his trembling.

"Just touch me..." He whispered into her ear.

"D-dan Heng, you aren't yourself, right now," she turned back at him, but he lost his cool further, pressing his body against her, he couldn't control his carnal desires, he just have, leaving him hot and bothered.

"I might not be myself... But I need this right now, okay?" The trailblazer breathed deeply, looking straight into her eyes.

His body was pressed against her, his heart beating so fast that she could feel it. With his breath warming her skin, Dan Heng tilted his head close.

"Please…"

"Dan Heng, I think you're mistaken-" she was cut off with a desperate kiss on her lips, she let out a word but it was cut off with a passionate kiss, he was losing himself, and he doesn't care to think about that right now. *He wanted her, right here, right now* That is for sure.

The dragon male’s tongue eagerly searching for hers. With her lips locked, he couldn't do anything but let his desire take over.

Dan Heng was losing himself over the girl in this moment. Every rational thought was gone, his mind filled with only one desire...

"Dan Heng, we will find another way to solve this-" he didn't like her answer, opening his bedroom door of the Rail Express, his eyes glinted in beastly golden ways, pushing her on the bed.

"You don't understand..." Dan Heng spoke with low breaths, his hand coming up to cup her cheeks.

"This is the only way… God, I want to breed you so badly," he continued as his gaze darkened.

"No, I don't want to mate, we will regret this someday, just listen to me-" her arms were pinned against his black mattress, earning another no.

He refused to listen, pinning her down on the bed with her arms above your head. He got closer, his hot breaths on her skin, as his golden eyes bore into hers.

"I won't regret this... Not if it's with you." Dan Heng mumbled before his lips descended on hers once again, melting on her lips.

"Dan Heng, please, listen to me, okay?" convincing is what the trailblazer could do to him. "Please?" she whimpered as he continued to caress her skin.

"Y/N... Don't you understand... My... My heat is taking over.." Dan Heng said out of breath. His body was on fire, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

"Just... Just let it happen..." The trailblazer begged, his voice shaky with barely-contained passion.

"I- no, Dan Heng, stop, please," she begged as he continued to touch her body without consent. "There must be another way-"

"There isn't!" The trailblazer groaned as he finally got her clothes off her body. His eyes roamed over her flesh as if he was seeing you for the first time. He was mesmerized by her curves, your sweet scent, and the beauty of her skin.

"I'm not stopping... It's either this or nothing at all."

There was regret filled in her eyes, why did she even touched his sensitive horns in the first place? She just nodded, hoping things ended quickly so they won't have to go through it, but his desires grew much further.

"Dan Heng," she let out a moan, finally giving in his touches and requests. He was selfish for wanting it for himself, "Please, I don't think it's the right way," she whispered in his ears.

Her weak protests only fueled Dan Heng to keep going, pressing his body against her and increasing the intensity of his touches.

"Yes... It is..." He sighed, his voice laced with pleasure. "How else will we resolve my heat if not like this? I'm sure we both know what I want." he tried manipulating her that it was she wanted as well.

Dan Heng smiled at her response, from earning a nod happy that he wouldn't have to convince her for much longer. He enjoyed the way she accepted him, making him feel more confident as her body responded to his touches.

His fingers made their way to breasts, kneading it like a dough that would give both pleasure and pain. And he knew just where to touch...

She let out a huff and some moans, kissing him on the lips hungrily, using her lips at work, ready to be pleasured the both of them for the evening. She lets him used her for his frustration, his pent up desired under those pants, grinding against her underwear, after his sprung out his double cocks.

As he could feel her underwear soaked up against his bare dicks, Dan Heng couldn't help but gasp against her lips. Her moans did a good job of driving him to please her more, his fingers tracing everywhere as he explored every inch of her body, finally sinking in, deep inside her wet soaking cunt.

"Y-You're so responsive..." He murmured, his lips returning to her neck, nibbling and kissing it like an animal.

"I-I'm not!!" a blush crept across her face, denying such claims, letting out another moan as he sunk his teeth on her skin. It hurts so bad, she got doubled dicked inside her small hole, she is trying to adjust to his size, he did gave her time, he isn’t that cruel.

"Oh, I'm just getting started..." Dan Heng replied as he continued to explore her body. By now his dick tip already kisses her cervix, moving it further in, teasing her until she mewled in pleasure, his voice lowering in pitch as her body responded to his touch.

"Is it already too much for you?" He asked as his mouth left her neck, traveling down to her breasts and back up again. The bed was shaking, holding of its dear life as he moved his hips further to see how much she could take it.

“Is it too big??” he said it against her neck, after bruising her soft skin with desperate bites, and fucks.

She panted, moaning as she could feel the cocks twitching her insides, touching all the gummy walls, pumping further. "No-no, I can handle it," she gritted her teeth.

"Good, because I'm not stopping no matter what you say..." Dan Heng mumbled, his hands beginning to travel further.

"In fact..." He paused as he let out a grunt. "I'm tempted to go further than this... Is that okay with you?" his balls slapped at the base of her ass further, making squelching noises across the room. All she could do is moan, and gave him a needy nod, asking him to go further.

“There you go, it wasn't hard was it? You're such a good girl..” he let out a low groan, slapping her breasts as the recoil bounced further with the thrusts he has been sending, in an inhumane pace. She let a louder moan, from the faster speed as he pressed her thighs, putting on his shoulders, pushing to her high.

"I'm-I'm close, nghhh, Dan Heng, I can't-" she whined, her mind finally melt from his merciless breeding inside her.

Dan Heng couldn't help but smile, listening to her whimpers and sighs as her body is overstimulated by him, no by his two massive cocks, dicking inside her, stretching her out.

"I don't think you're close enough yet.... Maybe I should speed things up a bit." He whispered into her ear, giving a sloppy deeper thrusts once more.

The trailblazer groaned, his mind hazy with desire as he continued to tease the poor female.

"Hngh... I'm not gonna stop now... And I'm definitely not stopping until you've had enough..." He teased as he continued to touch her and keep her the edge of pleasure.

After a long time of making her hold her orgasms, he finally let all the white semen, pouring all on her womb as her cunt twitches in pleasure as well, he cursed. Finally his senses coming back. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I came all inside you…” he panted, throwing his head up high, all the waves of pleasures pumping inside her, filling her insides. He hasn’t let her go yet.

“Can you please, please forgive me and take all my cum?” he begged, kissing her forehead, begging for her forgiveness, all the cum oozing to the brim from two of his cocks, insisting to stay in until she said yes.

"Fine..." the female trailblazer groaned, he just smiled, she looked so beautiful, taking all his cum like a good girl, a good girl just for him, finally letting go of his cocks, putting her weak overstimulated body on top of hers, she was out of stamina as well.

“I will take full responsibility for what happened,” he sighed, cleaning her up, going out of the Express.

Later after minutes, he came back with her favourite meal, a trick snack an plan B pill with some water.

“Thank you,” he kneeled down in front of her, kissing her knuckles. “Thank you forgiving me, love.”

To her surprise, she didn’t get pregnant, thanks to the plan B pill, but what is Dan Heng up to? He will breed you more later.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[ryebread0605]

Hi! Are you okay with us requesting smut? If so, could I request maybe Jamil pulling Reader/Yuu into a private area after a basketball game and taking them? It's up to you if they won or lost, but he just has so much adrenaline after the game he needs to let it out somehow, and Reader/Yuu dressed up in a like cheerleading outfit and was cheering him on and he couldn't stop looking at them throughout the game. Bonus points for jealousy because the other team was checking Reader/Yuu out- thank you so much!

Smut is 100% ok to request! As long as it isn’t Floyd x jade, silver x Lilia, or anyone x ortho! 

I love soft dom Jamil so I hope that’s ok if I kinda added that! Jealousy will be included cuz I find it cute to have him want your attention on him! 

Includes: dom Jamil, public sex, fem reader, some light degradation

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Jamil never thought himself one to be jealous, especially not after he let his jealousy cause him to nearly harm you when he Overblotted. So when he felt the familiar twist in his stomach, seeing members of the opposing team watching your cheer routine? He tried to ignore it. Surely the feeling would go away overtime, right? Yeah, of course they would. And afterall, how could they not want to look at you in that cute crop top and pleated skirt, embroidery of the Night Raven College logo dead center across your chest. Those twirls, you bending down, the cute smile on your face.. sevens he had to try hard to focus on the match. 

You ran to Jamil with a huge smile on your face as the match ended, NRC winning 7-5 making it a close game. Pom Pom’s still in your hands, you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Jamil! You guys did amazing! Did you hear how loud I was cheering? I hope so!” Your voice was cheery as you bounced in place, Jamil finding it harder and harder to keep his gaze on your face and not at your cleavage pressed against him. He was still annoyed at how the other boys had stared at you, but that annoyance and jealousy grew far FAR worse as Floyd and Ace decided to come over and make things worse. 

“Heyyy sea snake? Did ya see how those Royal Academy boys were lookin at shrimpyyy? Looks like shrimpy’s got more fans than usss~” Floyd’s teasing tone made Jamil have to take deep breaths, trying to calm himself which he was almost able to until Ace’s snarky voice added in.

“Ha! I bet they’d die for a chance with you (y/n), better make them know you’re dating Jamil. Don’t want her to get taken as a Royal Academy cheerleader~” oh that was it. A low growl came from Jamil as he dragged you out of the gym, leaving behind a laughing Floyd and Ace along with the other team members looking confused.

“J-Jamil where are we going? Everyone is still in the-“ 

“You’re mine (y/n). Mine only. And I want to make sure everyone knows” in an instant, your chest was pressed against the wall as you felt yourself sandwiched between it and Jamil, his hand slipping under the crop top and groping your breasts. His voice was barely above a whisper in your ear, the sound of it causing shivers to roll down your spine,

“I bet you liked the attention, right? Liked having other guys ogle you? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they all stare~” his hands made quick work of the cheer uniform, tossing both the skirt and shirt to the ground and leaving you in the panties and bra you had on underneath. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pulled his jersey off and dropped it atop your uniform.

God, proof of how hard he worked at those practices was on display for your eyes to hungrily take in. His hands push your panties to the side as you are distracted by his abs, a finger pressing deep inside you making your breath hitch. His finger moved fast and soon one became two as he scissored your now dripping cunt open, stretching you for him as he felt his shorts tighten. Once he felt you were sufficiently stretched, he removed his fingers and chuckled at your soft whines from the loss of something inside of you. His shorts joined yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist, rubbing his cock up and down your slick folds and teasing his tip at the entrance. 

“P-please Jamil please I need you!” Your voice held a soft whine, making his smirk widen as he left hickeys along your neck, removing your bra to access your breasts as well and leaving marks along the sensitive skin

“Oh? Do you really need me that badly? So goddamn needy, you wanna risk someone hearing us?” The soft moan you let out confirmed to him that even just the idea you *could* get caught had turned you on and, with that, he pressed the tip of his cock into your cunt with a grunt. Barely giving you time to adjust, he quickly bottomed out with only a few thrusts.

“There, that enough for you princess? So goddamn horny, just for me. Such a good little slut, wanting everyone to hear you call my name~” Jamil’s voice in your ear, so soft and sensual with his degrading comments just made your cunt clench around him, eliciting another groan of pleasure. Your soft begs for him to move soon faded to moans of pleasure as he started off rough right away, his hips slamming against yours and the sound of skin slapping filling the once silent halls. The brutal pace didn’t let up, not even as your head was thrown back from the pleasure and the knot forming in your stomach. 

“Good little slut, so loud for me~ telling everyone who owns you” each word was emphasized with another hard thrust, his cock hitting that one spot that made you see stars and, before you could warn him, your fluttering walls convulsed around him as the knot in your stomach snapped. Fucking you through your orgasm, Jamil’s pace didn’t let up until hot ropes of his cum shot deep into you.

The two of you stood there panting, both coming down from your highs, basking in that post sex glow you always seemed to have. That moment, however, was interrupted by something that turned you both into blushing messes, 

“God really? You two couldn’t have waited until getting to a bathroom at least?” Ace’s annoyed and embarrassed voice rang through your ears as you two turned to see him covering his blushing face and refusing to look either of you two in the eyes.

“Well, hopefully you’ve learnt not to make me jealous Ace, take this as a lesson” Jamil’s smug smirk returned to his face as the former muttered a quick ‘fuck you’ before walking past you two quickly

Returning his attention to you, Jamil leaned to whisper once more in your ear

“wanna go for a second round~?”

[sxcret-garden]

Yeosang ღ Longing [M]

ღ Ateez Yeosang x fem-bodied!reader ღ feat.: Yunho, Wooyoung ღ words: ~2.8k ღ genre: fluff, soft smut (fingering, unprotected sex), mutual pining, friends to lovers, college AU ღ warnings: (mentions of him picking up reader) ღ prompts: “I want to look at your face.” + “Say that you want me.”

Desc.: You and your friend Yeosang have been secretly in love with each other for months, and somehow you never found a chance to talk about it. Eventually he came to the conclusion that you must be in love with another one of your friends, and so the jealousy threatens to consume him every time you’re together.

“Hey, give that back!” you yell, reaching out for the pen Wooyoung just took from you. It’s a pretty color of blue and with a fluffy pom pom on its end - your favourite pen, and apparently he likes it too. It’s not like you never noticed the envious looks he always gives you when you’re using it, but you wouldn’t have thought he’d be so bold as to steal it from you one day.

“Make me!” he shouts back, a broad grin on his face. You glare at him and stretch your arm out further, but it’s futile. You can’t reach the pen he’s holding away from you as far as possible, no matter what. The two guys sitting opposite you have been just watching across the table at the study café you often come to up until now, however, suddenly Yunho reaches out and snatches the pen away from your friend, holding it out to you.

“Quit making such a ruckus, guys,” he scolds you, speaking in a warm tone. “People are gonna look at us and start wondering what kind of kindergarten we’re from…”

“We’re college students!” Wooyoung complains loudly.

“Then act like it.” Yeosang’s sharp words cut him off. You don’t miss the cold gaze he shoots the noisy guy next to you, before turning back to his own notes, trying to study. Awkwardness makes the air around the four of you feel heavy, and you know you’re the only one who could cheer him up in this situation.

“Yeosang,” you call out to him, and you see his facade waver for a moment. “We were just fooling around. Sorry for being so loud… we should all try to study now.” You give him a sincere look and wait for him to return it. Finally, he looks at you, unsure what to do now. You don’t miss the slight blush covering the tips of his ears as your eyes meet, and he eventually nods.

“I shouldn’t be so irritated… what’s wrong with me?” He bumps the palm of his hand against his temple, faking a smile in hopes of making the tension around you disappear.

“I’m sorry too,” Wooyoung chimes in and then faces you. “I’ll leave you alone… for today!” He gives you a childish grin and you can’t help but chuckle at him, feeling Yeosang’s piercing glare going right past you, as if he wanted to chase Wooyoung away with it. As soon as the latter notices the hostile gaze, Yeosang turns back to his book and clears his throat.

“So, problem number 4? Did anybody understand this?” he asks as if nothing had happened.

“An older friend explained this to me,” Yunho starts talking and leans over to the smaller guy, circling something in his book using a pencil. “You have to start using this formula here…” While the two are busy, soon sunken into thought, you and Wooyoung exchange a worried look. You know what he’s trying to tell you with his apologetic shrug, and you try to convey to him that it’ll be alright.

You know Yeosang has been in love with you for who knows how long now. He’s usually fine seeing you around other guys, but somehow whenever Wooyoung is there, jealousy takes the better of him. Maybe it’s because you get along so well, or because he would like to fool around with you like Wooyoung does. Either way, deep inside you know there’s no need for him to feel like this. After all you too have feelings for the guy - you just don’t know how to tell him yet.

Evening comes round eventually, and after grabbing a bite to eat at the café, you part ways. First Wooyoung says goodnight, turning towards the direction of his own home nearby, while the other three of you approach the train station across the street. Yunho walks in the middle, yet the air around you has turned awkward again. Apparently Yeosang doesn’t want to make it worse, so he just stays silent, and the taller guy doesn’t really know what to say anymore either, after a failed attempt to create a conversation. You get the feeling it’s all on you now.

“So… tomorrow same time as always?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Sounds good,” Yunho agrees and you glance over at a still sulking Yeosang, who tries to hide his feelings as soon as he realizes you’re looking at him.

“Yeah, same time as always.” He gives you a nod and a tired smile. You hate seeing him like this, knowing you could ease his mind with just three simple words. Should I just tell him…? you ponder. Should I confess and that’s it?

You board the train and eventually you all get off at your station. You part ways with Yunho, so now it’s just the two of you walking in the dark of the night side by side. Not talking much for a few minutes, you come to a halt at the crossroads where you usually say your goodbyes, except today you feel like you can’t leave Yeosang just yet.

“Can I… come with you?” you gather your courage and ask. Surprise is written all over your friend’s face now, and it takes him a few seconds to process the question.

“Yes. Sure,” he agrees. You see a smile forming on his lips. It’s the first time today that you see him smile honestly. Walking side by side, you follow him to his humble flat on the fourth floor of a huge building. You’ve been here before. It’s a small apartment, but it has enough space for a busy student - there’s a tiny kitchen island next to a small table, it has a decent bathroom and a comfortable bedroom. 

“Do you want to eat something? Drink something?” Yeosang asks as soon as you have both slipped out of your shoes and put your bags aside.

“Just tea?”

“Sure. What kind do you want? I have green tea, herbal tea…” he introduces a whole collection of assorted teas to you, overwhelming you a bit with information, so in the end you just stick to regular green tea. You sit at the table as you watch him boil water for two big cups, preparing the beverage for the both of you. He puts it on the table and sits down opposite you. For a while you just sit there in awkward silence, both sipping your tea and looking around the room, as if searching for something, when really the only thing you’re looking for is a sign to start talking. That sign never comes though, instead Yeosang clears his throat.

“I’m… sorry, Y/N,” he says hesitantly, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Why…?”

“Because I keep acting like a child.” He looks down now, his eyes finding his hands that are placed in front of him on the table. You find the birthmark next to his eye, one of the many little things you keep falling in love with about him. As if gaining courage from the sight, you reach out to cover his hands with yours.

“Yeosang, I need to tell you something,” you blurt out without thinking, and your heart starts beating faster as you make eye contact. As if he thought he could tell what you’re about to say, he shakes his head and gets up, withdrawing his hands from your hold.

“Don’t,” he answers, keeping his voice low. “You don’t have to say it.”

“What…?” You slowly rise up from your seat as well, now sensing the sadness hiding behind his stance very clearly. “You have the wrong idea!” you protest, but he doesn’t listen.

“I know you like Wooyoung,” Yeosang utters. “It’s okay. I got it. I’ll stop.” You stare at him for a few seconds as his own gaze is fixated on the corner of the room. A lot of things you would’ve liked to say to him cross your mind in that moment, but you know that none of them would have enough of an impact on him. You know that none of them would make him listen. So instead you approach him with secure steps, you reach out and grab him by the collar, and then you pull him towards you, smashing your lips together. You remain like this, kissing, trying to convey to him all the feelings that you haven’t had the courage to say out loud up until now. You wonder why suddenly you feel like you can say them, but instead of getting caught up in your thoughts, you keep moving your lips against his. Eventually you part, and still out of breath, you speak very quietly.

“Say that you want me. Say it and I’ll be yours.” He looks at you with big eyes and slightly parted lips, speechless for a while.

“But-,” he stutters in an attempt to put the turmoil of feelings in his chest into words, “but I thought-. What about Wooyoung?” 

“He’s a friend, Yeosang,” you state calmly, with a warm smile on your lips. “Always has been and always will be.”

“Then… you… like me too?” His voice turns into but a whisper, and you press another kiss onto his lips.

“What do you think?” you respond with a question, your breaths mixing as you pull back for a bit. Yeosang doesn’t answer, instead he leans in to continue kissing you, while he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close. You too throw your arms around him, holding onto his shoulders tightly, and as if that was his cue, his hands travel to behind your thighs, picking you up. Feeling secure in his hold, your lips part and you make eye contact with him.

“Wanna take this… somewhere more comfortable then?” he asks and you find all the suppressed emotions and his longing for you surfacing in his dark pupils. You nod. You wonder for a moment if you’re going too fast - but then again, shouldn’t it be fine to run into this blindly, led by nothing but your feelings for each other that stayed hidden for so long? After all you two have been waiting for a moment like this for what feels like an eternity now.

You let him carry you to his bedroom, where he carefully sets you down at the edge of his bed, before supporting himself with his arms to your sides, and you pull him in for another long kiss, deepening it as if it was the last time you could connect your lips with his, that seemed to fit together so perfectly. You let your body fall backwards onto the soft blanket, Yeosang crawling on top of you in the dark room, illuminated only by the faint light of a street lamp outside his window. His lips eventually leave yours, traveling down your jaw and your neck, as if he wanted to worship every single part of you. He pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside, continuing his ministrations traveling further south, leaving soft kisses all over your collarbones and chest. Sighs escape your mouth as you feel yourself relax under his touch. 

“I’ve been waiting for this so long…” you whisper into the darkness, combing your fingers through his hair. You let out a small whimper when you feel his teeth grazing your skin right below your chest. He crawls back up to place another kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I thought this day would never come,” he admits and you smile at him, unable to make out his facial expressions clearly due to the darkness.

“Let’s turn on the light,” you suggest, running your fingers through his hair once more. “I want to look at your face.”

“Oh… sure,” Yeosang suddenly hesitates and you can’t but chuckle at his reaction.

“What? Are you getting shy now?” you ask, watching him sit up and turning on the light beside his bed. You place your hands just above his waistband, slipping them under his shirt and letting them travel up his abdomen, feeling his muscles tense up under your small touches. Yeosang leans down to give you a proper kiss, and once you part you slip his shirt off his body, exposing his toned shape. Seemingly having forgotten all about his momentary embarrassment, he buries his face in your neck to place little kisses there, nibbling on your skin in between. You wrap your arms around him, placing your hands on his shoulders to keep him from slipping away from you again. Taking in the faint smell of his cologne that’s still sticking to him even after such a long day, you close your eyes, about to get lost in the moment. You wonder for a short while if this was the right moment to confess, to tell him that you love him, but that thought too gets lost once you feel him reconnect your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. You place one of your hands on his chest, letting it travel down his torso slowly, before it reaches the waistband of his pants. Tugging at it, you lead him to break the kiss and instead make eye contact with you. He shoots you a questioning gaze, as if attempting to ask if you really want this, and you give him one short but convincing nod. He slips out of his jeans, and so do you, and eventually both your underwear comes off too in between sloppy, needy kisses and fingertips tracing the other’s bodylines. Still hovering over you, his hand finds your core, and the pleasure that shoots into every cell of your body like electric waves once he comes in contact with where you want him most makes you moan underneath him. Your hands search for something to hold onto as he keeps going, pushing a finger inside you, and you eventually grab his bedsheets, clasping them in your fists. You find his hungry eyes watching every single one of your reactions to his touches, like how you turn your head away and close your eyes when he slips inside another finger, or how you moan his name when his lips come in contact with your skin again, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach. And then eventually you both hit the limits of your patience, and you give him a pleading look.

“Yeosang… please. I need you…” you beg, and as if that flipped a switch inside of him he leans in for another longing kiss while he removes his hand from your core, only for him to push inside you as soon as your lips part, now rolling his hips against yours. The feeling of him filling you up makes you suck in a breath, and your chest rises up. You let go of his bedsheets and instead find his muscular shoulders to hold onto. You throw your head back at his next thrust, and he reconnects his lips to your neck. Hearing his breathing growing heavier in between kisses, the waves of pleasure keep adding up, as if wanting to overwhelm you.

“Y/N, I love you,” you hear him mutter into your ear, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You want to say it back, but you’re rendered unable to speak as he picks up on speed, finally finding that sweet spot deep inside you. In between moans and whimpers you see your high approaching, and with a moan of his name it crashes down on you, making you cum around him while clinging onto his shoulders. He lets you come down from your high, and it takes him but a few more thrusts to come undone on top of you as well. 

He rolls onto his back, putting his arms around you to allow you to put your head on his chest, snuggling up to him closely. You say nothing for a while, just listening to the sounds of your breathing filling up the room and each other’s heartbeat in your ears. Then you eventually lift your head to look up at his face, finding that he’s already been watching you while holding you close to him. You lean down to kiss him softly and slowly, lips merging together perfectly.

“I wanted to tell you something as well,” you remind him. “Are you gonna let me talk now?” He nods, never taking his eyes off your mouth as you speak. “I love you too,” you confess with a smile. Yeosang brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, before placing his hand at the back of your neck and pulling you towards him for another kiss.

“Wanna stay with me tonight?” he whispers close to your face, so you can feel his warm breath on your cheeks. You nod. With a chuckle, you answer,

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[jhuzen]

Will there be a part 2 of the "Attention" fic?

infidelity [gn/m.reader]

the answer to that is a solid yes AND a big apology for taking a hundred years to post this. this ask has been in my inbox for freaking months. and it’s mostly because i have been remaking this fic until i got the most satisfying fic LMAO. i’m sorry for taking so long 😭 i hope this is compensation enough. btw this part 2 to this! but honestly, you don’t have to read it lmao.

𖦹 crack taken seriously, hsr mention but this is mostly genshin, this is just a fic of me making fun of cheaters aka you, highly based on that one tweet of the “welcome home, cheater” one, pushing my grand overseer reader agenda like in my early fics teehee <3, sagau, sahsr au

“I should probably go back…”

Jing Yuan begged to differ. The general himself had his reservations about your sudden eagerness to depart. After all, you were a good company — one that amused him to the core and even kept him awake for the better part of the day. You are an interesting being to him after all — much after learning from the exuberant girl from the famed Astral Express suddenly emphasizing your importance when they left you under his supervision.

You, in much simpler words, are adorable in the Luofo general’s eyes. With eagerness and curiosity melding in those gaze of yours that could leave anyone transfixed — wanting and desperate.

You truly live up to the title as the grand overseer across worlds. You were the sole beholder of their sentience, despite the fact that right now, you’re barely aware of your status and your circumstance, it was more than enough for anyone go cherish your presence. How could they not? It was a blessing to see you descend from where you were, behind the great barrier that they all could only stare at when they looked to you for guidance.

Alas, that mattered little, not when you were beside the amused general and his coy smile, fingers raking through your hair; reminiscent of the pattern when he would do the same thing to Mimi when you visited his abode to meet the furry beauty that was his pet.

Quite frankly, you weren’t all too sure if this was something you were used to, being treated like an animal companion, with even the way Jing Yuan’s hand would suddenly roam behind your very human ears, scratching behind out of habit.

The only thing missing was him giving your food to you in a bowl, actually, and you’d be no different than Mimi at that point. Wait. No. You were sure Jing Yuan’s lion also ate out of a golden encrusted plate when you saw his hired caretakers come and feed Mimi.

“Bark for me, won’t you?” The general teased with a purr and it was more than enough for you to pull the plug at your willing compliance.

You removed his hand from your head and only shot him a subtle glare, “That’s a request I can’t honor even if my life depended on it.” You sighed, “I should get going now though, General… I made a promise to help our conductor in sweeping the floors. Apparently Caelus tracked some dirt inside when he decided to lug some trash.”

“Must you really? You’re the grand overseer, no? I believe such a title deserves a limitless freedom in doing whatever it is that they wish,” he coaxed in a suave tone, quick to win anyone over. And honestly, that sounds nice. But you’ve never seen Pom-Pom look so stressed when you saw an unwilling March and Dan Heng drag some trash either wrapped in gold bags or regular black ones inside the express when they came back from Belobog.

You somehow regretted leaving first — but even you had urgent matters to attend to at that moment.

“Ah—!” The lax Jing Yuan jolted at your sudden outburst.

“…Anything troubling you, Grand Overseer?”

“T-Teyvat! I completely forgot…!” Your eyes were blown wide as the panic settled within you. You had promised Nahida you would make it to the Interdarshan championship. She was so excited when she communed with you just days ago, completely elated that even your beloved Wanderer would participate as a representative in a Darshan.

Albeit confused by your sudden squawking, Jing Yuan understood and only watched you pace around while you lamented what sounds to be a rehearsed apology that you will no doubt tell to someone you hold precious.

“How envious, to receive an apology from you even sounds like a great honor.” Jing Yuan teased with a chuckle. “Well then, off you go now. Don’t be away for too long. I rather enjoy our time together.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course… I truly apologize for cutting our time together short. Do give my regards to Fu Xuan and Yanqing if they drop by. I have to go and talk to the crew and also bid my goodbye for now.” You bowed before turning away, briskly walking your way towards the door outside of the general’s office, only to bump into Welt and March.

“Oh! There you are! Ya ready to go shopping?” March held an exuberant energy as she asked, clasping your hand in hers tightly with an excited gleam flashing through her eyes.

Welt, however, was far more observant than March, “Judging from that look in your eyes… you have some affairs you’ve forgotten to tend to, Your Benevolence. Would I be correct in my judgment?”

“It’d be a miracle for you to be wrong at this point,” you laughed amidst your panic. “But yes, unfortunately. March, I hope you don’t mind a little bit of postponement… I have somewhere to be urgently.”

March’s bottom lip stuck out into pleading pout, “But you promised!”

“March, let’s not force them. It is as they say — an urgent affair.” Welt only looked at you with a small nod and an encouraging smile, “Don’t be too worried. I’ll let Himeko and Dan Heng know of your absence. Just be safe.”

“I will definitely come back and visit.” Your smile and reassurance was enough to quell March’s disappointment and Welt’s initial concern. “Please tell Caelus not to track more dirt inside. It’ll only serve to frustrate Pom-Pom further.”

“It’s a useless attempt, but for you, I’ll try,” March winked as she waved to you with Welt.

With a nod to the two of them, you were off to Teyvat — lucky that you have little need for the Star Rail in the first place to travel. Otherwise, it would most certainly take you the entire conceivable time just before you could even come back to one of the many worlds that you oversaw and to a fault, even took care of from afar.

You stepped into the familiar grassy fields of Sumeru’s rainforest, looking up to see that the city isn’t too far off. There was a gentle breeze that blew by, almost like a kiss from a certain archon, but you paid little heed to it. You normally always took your time to appreciate the sights in Teyvat, finding its vast lands and many biomes incredibly fantastical in sight. But even that couldn’t keep you from the fact that you’ve broken several promises that you willingly made to some residents here.

You can only imagine the disappointment in everyone’s faces once you’ve admitted to the fact that… other people may have swept your attention away in the first place — hence your sudden absence.

You owed your first apology to Nahida. She is after all, one of your far more favored archons around, treating her like your own, definitely something that would make Rukkhadevata proud among every other archon out there. And then there’s also a matter of apologizing to your dear Aether, you made another promise to him that you would spend your time with him in Sumeru’s far end by the Realm of Farakhkert to meet the infamous Sorush and the majestic race of the Pari (you once made a claim that Aranara’s are superior, and your endeared traveler was reluctant in protesting to your words it seems).

Now that you thought about it — you were sure you made quite a lot of promises to the residents of Teyvat. A lot of commitments were hammered into your special sanctuary that Aether had built for and with you inside his teapot.

Commitments that you’ve forgotten in favor of space travels with a couple of trailblazers.

Onlookers turned to your direction, completely flabbergasted at your casual appearance. What were you doing in Sumeru city (not that they were ungrateful for your gracious presence) — but it was as if you were solely taking a stroll on your own. Where are your entourage? Was the Acting Grand Sage even informed of your arrival? What about the archons that always accompanied you? Where is Buer?

Best of all, why does your face contort into an expression of what seems to be utter guilt?

You hiked your way to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, refusing any help offered to you by the guards that were courteous enough. You were prepared to face Nahida’s crestfallen look — prepared to start indulging her wishes to make up for the tomfoolery you engaged in. The corners of your mouth trembled as it itched to finally spill out the plethora of apologies that you’ve prepared.

“Oh. So you exist after all.”

Only for your well-rehearsed (by the last minute) apologies to fall apart when the Wanderer’s voice rang from above. You looked up to see him perched on one of the ledges just above the door of Nahida’s residence. He was stationed like a watchful hawk — and he was, constantly on the prowl for anyone suspicious daring to come up to the sanctuary.

Suddenly, a memory of you promising him to go fishing by the coasts of Sumeru had you wincing. And with the way the puppet’s mouth turned up in a smug smirk showed that he was aware of an engagement you swore you’d do with him.

“Ah… I hear you go by Hat guy now?” You tilted your head, giving him a reluctant smile.

“Spare me the meaningless prying. Where have you been?” His eyes narrowed, suspicious and a tad bitter at your absence and incompetence in attending a tiny little leisure that you yourself insisted he join you on. Who the hell even creates plans first and suddenly flakes out? The Wanderer has never felt more betrayed, quite frankly.

You suddenly looked like a guilty spouse that came from a messy affair, with the way you shifted your footing and how you averted your gaze quick. The Wanderer was intolerant of such a behavior however when he finally came down from his little high up spot to face you with no escape. He will summon a void and trap you in it halfway if you so much as make an attempt to escape.

“I’ve been… away…”

“Were you now?” His scrutinizing gaze only served to intimidate you further when he came up close, his nimble fingers tracing against your clothing. “Whose is this?”

And before you, he held a familiar long strand of white hair — possibly acquired when the general of Luofo decided to frolic around with you, coaxing (or coercing, more like) you to give him a much deserved head massage for his hard work (though in truth, he barely did anything that day).

“…A cat.” Technically not a lie. Jing Yuan does exhibit certain behaviors that you can classify as a behavior that a feline has.

“Is it now?” His voice went an octave higher — clearly mocking you if his churlish grin wasn’t enough of a sign about his suspicions of you and your… agendas prior to your unprompted visit in Teyvat.

A terse silence engulfed you and your Wanderer before he flicked away the hair and dragged you inside Nahida’s sanctuary.

“She was disappointed that you were absent the entire Interdarshan event thing. Where in the abyss were you?” The puppet hissed, his grip on your wrist tightening. Somehow you found it far more comforting compared to the times where people would treat you like some fragile object that could break at any second.

What’s not comforting however, were his words. You couldn’t bear the thought of letting Nahida down, and now you’re faced with that very thought becoming a reality that you now have to get through just for the sake of your sanity.

You smiled a little despite seeing the Dendro Archon’s back turned while she minded her own business. There was always something comforting when wasting your hours away inside the sanctuary. Just having to teach Nahida from your old world knowledge about people, and to an extent even teaching the Wanderer with your wisdom that rarely pops out (according to him, with full intent to insult you). It’s not as daring as the time Venti decided to fling you up and catch you or Ei’s insistence on you eating your tenth dango during your walks.

For now however, you had one goal in mind — and that is to make amends with your favored archon and puppet.

Teyvat altogether created an unspoken rule to never ever doubt you — the Grand Overseer. You have a position that transcends even farther than the Primordial One, your eyes that gaze on many universes and worlds. You are the one that took care of the blooming life in each planet that teemed with it, thriving under your guidance.

There was a collective decision among all gods and mortals alike to never doubt your endeavors, much less your love for them. You care a lot about them, and based solely on your constant descent towards their world, it seems as though above all other worlds, you favored them. They were the proof of your benevolence, granting the residents your presence while you walked among them.

Right. That was the case that everyone agreed upon.

However, there was an underlying layer of unease. Heaven forbid may it be doubt; they could never! But perhaps… a tiny bit of uncertainty in the layer of cautiousness as the residents watched you with adoration.

It first started with the wrong names.

When Albedo, Sucrose, and Timaeus wholeheartedly welcomed your help when you visited Dragonspine with Klee. Jean was far too busy with her work and while she wished to, could not have time to bask in your presence after the announcement of your sudden arrival. In turn, you only assured her and relieved her of her added duty in watching over Klee.

Klee was the one to visit big brother Albedo, to surprise him that you were finally back. And you complied. Dragonspine is an extension of Mondstadt, and you had plans to check up on every single resident of the nation.

Suffice to say, you were quickly hooked up in a chair, pulse detectors attached to your temples while you watched Klee doodle away on the floor. For a respected overseer, you certainly were a people pleaser, letting Albedo scan you out of his own volition (Sucrose was fussing the entire time, she didn’t want you to be hurt in the process, after all!).

“Look Grand Overseer! This is you and me and Dodoco!” Your vision was quickly filled with a flurry of bright colors on paper, one that was filled with an abundant amount of red and the other with the colors of your clothing.

“Ah! So it is! Good job, Hook!”

Everyone in silence soon tore themselves away from their work, looking at you with evident confusion.

Klee blinked, tilting her head as she looked just as lost and surprised as the other three researchers in the mountain, “Hook? That’s not how you say Klee…”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage and tried to save it with a cough, “D-Did I now? Ah, my bad… I meant to say was that you… did a great job! It immediately hooked me in!” It was a half-baked excuse — hell, call it a raw excuse even and everyone aside from Klee caught on as the explosive child beamed with pride, just happy that you loved her heartfelt creation.

Albedo eyed you in suspicion before returning to his work.

Then there was your misplaced reminiscence.

In your defense however, Snezhnaya does feel like Belobog. Sometimes… most definitely not because of the fact that both places are constantly subjected in a thick layer of snow.

The Tsaritsa was all but cruel to you. She loved you like any other archon out there and always basked in your presence — even keeping you for herself a week or two longer, leaving the next nation in your rotation of visitation completely restless at your tardiness. However in her gentle kindness was a terrifying beast that laid dormant.

Only then did you catch a glimpse of it on the morning that you and her spent on your appointed room in the palace, both you and the Cryo Archon siting on the balcony while you sipped on a hot beverage, enjoying the mountainous coated in freshly fallen snow.

You sat your cup down and blew on your hands. The Tsaritsa laughed at your actions, pleased that you can truly feel the love she embodied through the cold winds of her icy nation.

“Cold enough for you, Grand Overseer?” She jested with a light tone.

“…Yep…” your teeth lightly chattered. “…T-This place is a lot c-colder than Belobog, I’ll tell you that… B-But not more than Jarilo-VI as a whole…”

All of a sudden, you could feel the creeping coldness from beside you and looked to where the archon sat, her striking eyes looking at you with curiosity… with a smidge of coldness behind them.

“Pardon? Not colder than where?”

Her tone was pressed despite her sweet adoring smile. She took pride in her sovereign kingdom of cryo. It was all for you, to feel the comforting cold after you spent your last stay with Murata in Natlan. This was her giving you love, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough?

The better part of your mind decided to feign ignorance. And you lived to see another day.

And then the sudden secrecy.

By all means, of all people, Zhongli indulged in your stories the most. Whenever you visited Liyue, you were almost always found beside him if Ningguang wasn’t asking for your presence or if you weren’t getting coerced into another drinking competition with Beidou and her crew. And in this case, you were preoccupied with a little something while you accompanied Zhongli in his usual spot.

He listened earnestly to the storyteller while you busied yourself writing a little something on a parchment you had acquired from the Wangsheng parlor when you fetched Zhongli for his break.

And ever so slightly, he’d find himself glancing at your hunched over form, while you stewed in your little activity. He didn’t particularly mind the lack of conversation from you. Having you beside him was more than enough, actually. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to have him be just as engaged in your little agenda, would it?

The former archon peered at your work, only to be faced with scripts that were oddly reminiscent of Liyue’s characters. Albeit there were significant changes that made the language still all too different from his nation.

“…Might you be translating ancient texts, Grand Overseer?” He inquired and was met by a suspicious jolt from you.

It was a text Dan Heng gave you before to practice the language used in the Xianzhou fleet. Only now did you have time to do his little practices upon your descent. You had plans to check up on everyone as soon as you were done in Teyvat, and perhaps impressing Yanqing with your language prowess was a good party trick (and eventually not get bullied into eating something spicy because of your ignorance).

“Ah! N-No—! I— yes. No.”

Zhongli tilted his head and you were quick to recall your flubbed answer, shoving away the parchment into your little pocket. There was a frantic look in your eyes and Zhongli was concerned, naturally.

You used to be so willing in divulging everything to him in exchange for his stories, with the both of you managing to talk from dusk to dawn without fail with him needing little to no sleep and the time dilation that your body couldn’t seem to adjust to. You weren’t afraid to share what you were preoccupied with, and even often let him experience new things from your own world.

So why are you keeping secrets now?

But perhaps, the breaking point was your standoffish nature.

Aether has always cherished his raw connection with you and was proud to wear his closeness to your divinity, not because of infamy, but because of how incredibly special you treat him. While, certainly, you have made the people of Teyvat special on your visits, but what sets him apart from the rest is your adamant expression of affection towards him. For some reason, he was favored alone, not as a part of a collective unlike Venti and his people, or Zhongli and his. He alone was yours to indulge, even more behind closed doors in his teapot realm.

However… something was off after your abrupt visit.

Something had changed when you came home.

You were far more distracted, occupied with that tiny device you always held in your hand. Suddenly, Paimon wasn’t the loudest one in the teapot mansion with the incessant beeping that your phone made. It never did that before, it was always tucked away somewhere, sometimes even letting him place it in his inventory if there was little time to go back into the teapot.

He had always deemed your mode of communication useless. Especially on your travels. It was always so silent, like a useless artifact that you keep on you.

But suddenly it was teeming with life, buzzing endlessly that could drive any man with weak resistance into the threshold of insanity. You’d often pick it up and grant the little device a heavenly smile and proceed to be on it for hours upon hours.

It was a heartbreaking time for him.

It was heartbreaking whenever he would peer at your device, only for you to keep him in the dark as you made some lame excuse.

It was heartbreaking whenever he could no longer recognize your words when you talked about your own anecdotes, throwing name after name at him while he listened intently.

And oh was it heartbreaking when you called him by the name of someone else.

“[Name], have you seen my earring?” He took pride in his informality with you showing your comfortability and familiarity with the renowned traveler.

“Over on the table, Cae— ther… Caether… Aether.”

Not so much with that tiny slip.

Yes. Perhaps that was it. And all the preceding reasons.

Perhaps it was why you sat like a condemned criminal in the court of Focalors, as every archon looked at you with scrutiny and skepticism in their eyes. Only sweet Nahida looked at you in concern. Ah, your poor child. You’d rather her look away than experience the possible punishment you were about to receive.

“Grand Overseer, make no mistake, this is a trial born from the accumulated concerns of us all. This is a trial born… from our love.” The hydro archon’s voice bellowed through the courts. She normally wasn’t one to personally try the defendants, however you were a special circumstance.

You always were.

…Sure doesn’t feel like it…

“M-May I at least know what my charges are…?”

“Infidelity, Grand Overseer.” Ei answered for the collective. “I can only hope you are not found guilty.”

You grimaced. You’re quite glad that this was a private trial, with only the archons, retired or otherwise, gazing at you. Make no mistake however — this was an intimidating position to be in. You may be the Grand Overseer, but you’re quite sure the only thing keeping you alive is their thinly veiled fanaticism and adoration for you. Otherwise, you would have been incinerated long ago.

It might have been your luck. But it was something you would wholeheartedly thank as the moment Focalors slammed her gavel down, the horrifying screech of something you can only classify as a hideous ally pulled you out of your impending doom.

The alarm on your phone rang incessantly, a glaring reminder of your subpar and mundane reality, waking you up from a dream that you could barely remember.

You shot up, only realizing you fell asleep in front of your own computer. You looked up to see your game open, with your beloved traveler gazing down at you with a disappointed frown on his face.

You chalked it up to your awful sleep and rubbed your eyes, closing the game and migrating to the other, where your in-game phone was filled to the brim with messages.

Smothering a yawn in your hand, you can only shake your head.

“My games have been really weird lately. I should probably leave them alone for now. Maybe have fun with Elysia and the girls.” You muttered to yourself but not before powering your computer down.

Truly, your utter cluelessness is bound to drive everyone insane.

Fret not however, they will make it work. They will let you know of their sentience. They will make sure that you are aware of how much they admire you.

It’s only a matter of time until then.

[buckgasms]

Pom, it has plagued my mind and now it must plague yours. Alpha!Winter Soldier using you as his own person cocksleeve...

Darling, this is such an old ask and I apologise for how long it has taken me, but I just wanted to do it right, so it took me somewhat longer that intended 😅. It has indeed plagued my mind! I hope I can make up for the wait with the very long filth that follows!

Because oh my god YES.

This will be dark with elements of dub-con & non-con so please proceed with caution or avoid if it's not your thing ❤️

Zayka means bunny in Russian because of course he has to have a pet name for us 😂

Imagine if during a mission he spots you? He's hiding somewhere looking for his target, and as he scopes out the area you walk into his line of sight?

And something primal lurches in the pit of his stomach that tells him, he has to have you, as soon as possible.

He points you out to his handler's and they make arrangements. They know sometimes the soldier needs release so they don't argue. As long as the job gets done right?

🌑

You awake in a room unfamiliar to you. Your head pounds as you try and remember what happened. You were just walking through the park when a shot rang out. Everyone fled in different directions and as you ran out of the park.... You were intercepted... Two men in black military gear were calmly walking towards you... Then a sharp pain... Then nothing...

You realise suddenly that your own clothes have been replaced with a hospital gown and nothing else. Your body starts shivering with adrenaline and cold wondering what the hell is going on.

As you try to move the door unlocks and swings open. A huge man with a silver arm and piercing blue eyes is standing there in front of you. He only has a pair of black trousers on but even as the door is being locked again he is stripping them off as you cower on the floor.

"Theres been a mistake" you croak. "I shouldn't be here, I'm not... Please, I don't understand."

He walks towards you and drops to a crouch, running a hand across your cheek and assessing you. "Yes. It's you. I wanted you..." He rises, offering a hand which you don't accept, trying to shuffle away from him as quickly as you can. He threads his flesh hand into your hair and pulls, not hard but enough to stop your movements.

"Be good, be good for me and I'll make sure they let you go. Be bad and I promise nothing. I need you.... It needs to be you."

He sounds almost desperate for you. Like his control is only surface deep. You look at him and see pain behind the strength he easily displays. You glance around. No one is coming to help. Maybe if you're good....?

"Ok..."

With that he lets go of your hair and scoops you up in his arms carrying you to the poor excuse for a bed and places you down with more gentleness than you were expecting. He immediately removes your gown and pushes your thighs upwards, giving him direct access to your heat.

"Perfect" he murmers before diving down and licking and sucking at your cunt. His tongue dips in and out of your heat, then he sucks at your clit before shaking his head and stimulating your whole pussy.

Despite your lack of willingness, it is extremely effective and before you can even catch up, he has you on the edge of orgasm in moments. But he's not giving you that yet.

He grips your ankles and spins you, so your head is now hanging off the bed, inches away from his crotch. "Take it out and suck it" he orders and when you don't move he lands two harsh swats to your thighs. As you cry out you are moved into action. His dick springs free and you grip it before guiding him into your mouth.

He groans and stutters a little before his metal fingers are probing into your folds. The cold, hard metal sends shocks through your body as he chokes you simultaneously. "Fuck, good girl." He growls as his hips slide steadily into your mouth. Drool and tears mix on your face as he fucks your cunt with his fingers. Your moans and wails are muffled but the sensation on his cock sends him feral.

"Knew it had to be you. Fuck, made for me zayka" he growls, his cock pressing further down your throat as he brings you to a earth shattering orgasm. He over stimulates you, until you are flailing your legs to escape his touch.

"Easy, easy now" he says, removing his fingers and pulling his cock from your mouth. You lay, twitching as your body recovers from your climax but he's nowhere near satisfied.

"Up zayka, hands and knees"

You shudder and move slowly into position but he isn't satisfied so moves you again, his little ragdoll to play with. He pushes and pulls you until you are laying on your back, watching as his cock taps on your folds.

"So wet for me hmm? Made for this aren't you?" He waits until you nod, then sinks in, hand around your throat as he sheathes himself all the way. You both emit a long moan at the feeling before he starts pumping his hips again, skin slapping against yours as he fills you up.

Your hands flail around, gripping his metal hand that's fixed around your throat, scraping at his chest. He swats it away. "Touch yourself little slut. Play with yourself or I'll bind your hands" He growls and you can only obey, tentatively rubbing circles with one hand while your other paws clumsily at your breasts.

"Good girl, my good girl"

His praises have such a confusing effect. As much as this is wrong, you want to please him. He's making you feel so good. It spurs you on, with the hope that it will keep you alive. You want it to end. But you never want it to end.

Your walls clench tightly around him and he groans, emptying himself into you as he keeps fucking you to your second, intense orgasm. When he pulls out he watches as his seed drips from you, mixed with your own release and he rubs it together, taking a taste and moaning.

Finally, you think it's done. You curl away and wait for him to leave, but instead strong hands turn you back over. "Not done" he states and drags you to lay on your front, not before you catch a glimpse of his already semi-hard cock.

"I can go for longer than most kayza" he explains as you feel his cock press against your sensitive folds, dragging up to your puckered hole. You whimper and he reaches around, squeezing your breasts and shushing you. "You're doing so well... Be good for me..."

You whine as he sinks back into your puffy folds and holds there. Relishing the feeling of your spasming walls. You barely notice as he spits on to your ass and rubs it around before sinking his finger in slowly.

"Have you been taken here?" He asks, and you nod slightly, "just once" you mutter and he tuts. "This belongs to me now. You and your pretty holes are mine." He lands a slap on your skin and you cry out as he slides out of your pussy and into your ass.

He dips in and out of both holes, using your wetness to ease his entrance into your tight hole. The pleasure mixed with the pain drives you senseless, bucking your hips as he sinks further and further in. Finally he is fully seated and both of you are panting, a fine sheen of sweat covering both of you.

You feel his hand sink into your hair and pull you upwards so your back is pressed to his chest. "Taking me so well... Knew you could..." He ruts upwards, fingers rubbing mercilessly at your clit as he fucks you. You are sure you black out at his fingers slip into your folds and curl towards your g-spot making your whole body tremble. He groans in your ear as you whine, desperate for release again. He sucks bruises into your neck and shoulders, occasionally sinking his teeth down to leave impressions in your skin, marking you as his.

"Please...please" you beg as you teeter closer to your limit of pleasure. "Come for me, come as much as you want... Going to fill up your holes kayza..."

His talented fingers and never ceasing cock drag you to another peak and he holds you tight in place as your jerk and squirm through it. He growls again as he comes in your ass, holding himself in place making sure you don't lose a drop.

You fall to the mattress again and can't help the exhaustion that takes over your body. He climbs over you and drags your body to his. "Sleep kayza, more later..."

🌑

You awake to the feeling of fingers in you, and find his cock being guided into your mouth. You squirm and cry but he shushes you and threatens a spank. "Suck and I'll make you feel good..."

You take his cock in your mouth and he wraps his thighs around your head, trapping you in place as his tongue and fingers delve into your pussy. The focus on breathing removes any other thought from your mind, focusing you onto one task and blocking out the fear that is now dissolving in your stomach. For his part he works your body like he's known it for years, kissing your folds, nibbling and biting your sensitive thighs and curling his finger gently inside you.

His cock tightens before he releases in your mouth, almost choking you in the process. It's clear he has no intention of releasing you until you are dragged to another climax, your walls now intensely sensitive as he curls his finger beyond what you can take, until finally he releases you from the headlock and your body falls backwards.

He hovers over you, hands pressed either side of your head. He presses sloppy kisses to your face, almost like he's forgotten how to. His lips drag over your skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in his wake. He pulls back to look at you. "Open your mouth" he says and you comply. "You swallowed it?" He growls and you nod, feeling suddenly embarrassed even though you shouldn't.

"Next time hold it, I want to see it..."

Your cheeks redden and you shiver again. Next time? You felt sure it was almost over. But the look on his face suggests not. He follows up by spitting in your mouth and squeezes your cheeks, making it drop over your lips and chin.

"It's like you were made for me kayza... So perfect.... So soft and sweet..."

🌑

He let you sleep for a while, and during that time he was summoned. They spoke in Russian and he took on the role of submissive. He nodded and was led out of the room with heavily armed guards.

Maybe while he was gone they would set you loose? You didn't know anything, you were innocent.

But you waited hours. At some point a meal was shoved through a flap in the door. You waited for a moment but your hunger took over and you scrambled to the door and ate whatever mush was on the plate.

You wrapped a blanket around you and sat cold and silent. You didn't know which was worse. Waiting for him or being with him. You tried to understand how you let yourself surrender to him so easily. You felt like you did nothing to stop it, but what could you do? No one was here to help you and at least he seemed to care about you... In his own way.

🌑

You heard thundering footsteps heading down the corridor outside your door. With a short pause it was suddenly open and he was back in the room. You sat there staring at him as he stood staring at you.

He shrugged off his clothes and walked towards you. "Show it to me." He said, gesturing to your lower half but you couldn't move. "Kayza, be good or I can be bad..." You exhaled and dropped your thighs open and he hissed as your swollen pussy leaked out his release. He dipped his hand down and rubbed making you whimper at the touch.

Once he was naked he laid back on the bed next to you. His hands drifted over your body where you sat until he was pulling you into place, sitting on his body. "I can't, it's too sensitive..." You pant as he lifts you up by the thighs and guides you to sit on his fat cock.

"No, no, you take it, you can..." You can't escape his grip as he drags you down with one hand and guides his cock into your heat. Your hands grip at his chest and you cry out as he stretches you. You gasp for air and he just holds you still, shushing you as you are overwhelmed.

"You're made for this. Look at you... Still taking me all the way..." He lets his soft hand drag over your body, squeezing here and there, pinching your nipples until they are swollen and sore from his actions. He rolls his hips experimentally and even he can't cope with the way your walls clamp down on him. "Fuck, that's right... It's just want you like huh?"

He stops again, letting you calm down before rolling again. He keeps this torturous pace, stopping and starting until tears track down your face and the only thing keeping you up is his hands around your throat.

"Did they touch you while I was gone zayka?" He whispers, hands squeezing slightly tighter, hips thrusting slow but deep. "N...no...no." He growls again as your eyes roll in your head. "Tell me why... Why did they leave you alone?"

"Because....ah..b...because I belong....to you."

He drags you forward and crashes his lips to yours in a primal kiss, you return it clumsily, moaning in his mouth. His hand reaches round and presses into your ass as he ruts. "That's right.....mine."

🌑

Time passes, probably days but they are a blur to you. He leaves and returns once more, the rest of the time he uses you, holds you and occasionally you sleep.

Until one day he goes, and he's gone for a long time. Your only sign of life is the weird meals that pass through the door every several hours.

Eventually someone opens the door. Not the soldier. A guard of some type. He throws a gown at you and leads you to a quiet room with a scary looking chair. Are they going to kill you now.

Despite the horror of the situation, you find yourself wishing for him. At least he was gentle, these guards did not look gentle.

Suddenly he is marched into the room and thrown into the chair. You watch horrified as he is strapped down, a glassy look in his eye. He looks at you briefly, a flare of possession and recognition shot towards you.

"We are going to wipe his memory, but we can't deny the effect you've had on him. Kept him much calmer than the others before you." A guard explains as doctors whizz around the room, pressing various buttons.

"If he remembers you, little kayza," he mocks, "then you can live. If not..." He cocks his gun near you and you shiver. An impossible fate lies ahead of you. Death or life, but what kind of life would it be?

You are forced to watch on as he screams during the process. Tears track down your face in fear, for both of you. Clearly he is as much a prisoner as you.

Finally the ordeal ends. They speak to him in hushed tones as various plates of metal are removed from his body. You are pushed forward into his eyeline.

Your heart is in your throat as he stares at you. Will he remember?

[rahuratna]

The transformation of Nanami Kento, Part 5

In which Nanami-pom takes full advantage of his current condition and makes a new friend ...

The car ride was a lively one, with Ino regaling the first year trio with tales of some of his more risky missions with Nanami.

"Oh yeah, I thought I was a goner that time. The spirit had me trapped under the rubble and there were these metal pipes caging me in. Felt like I was being crushed. And then, suddenly, I heard this noise and everything felt lighter! I looked up, and there he was."

Ino clenched his fist as he told them the story of his first meeting with Nanami. Yuuji leaned forward, enraptured, and even Megumi looked intrigued.

"He pulled the rubble out of the way like it weighed nothing and then he told me to rest because it was 5 pm and my work day was over."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah! I was hella confused, man. So I say, what do you mean? There's still curses to be killed. And he goes ... "

And here Ino deepened his voice, pulling at an imaginary tie and rolling up his sleeves, " ... My name is Nanami Kento. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm now working overtime, so please rest while I complete this task."

Nobara glanced over at Nanami-pom, who was now perched on Megumi's leg, a styrofoam cup of warm milk in the holder beside him and the financial section of the paper laid out on her lap while he read calmly.

Yes, that did sound exactly like him.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised just how well he had adapted. Even now, he was making full use of the advantages this form gave him. She looked down as a small paw touched her arm and sighed as she turned the page of the newspaper for him.

Oh yes. He was taking full advantage.

-----‐-------------------------‐‐-----‐----

The hotel Ijichi had booked them into allowed pets. Yuuji didn't know whether to personally thank Ijichi or feel offended on Nanami's behalf. As they waited in the lobby for Gojo to check them in, someone called over to them.

A group of ladies was seated at one of the lounges, all four of them dressed very fashionably. One lady in particular had a small poodle in a handbag, the perfectly groomed dog dolled up in what looked like a designer outfit. Nobara cringed slightly, but then realised how she looked with Nanami-pom seated on her shoulder with a full miniature business suit on.

"What a cute doggie! Why don't you bring him over here and introduce him to my Peanut?"

Ino and the students froze, eyes flicking around the lobby in desperation. This was the one type of interaction they had hoped to avoid at all costs. The lady was now coming over, bringing 'Peanut' with her.

"Oh, don't be shy. Peanut is very friendly. Here, Peanut, say hi. Oh! Just look at how adorable he is! What a beautiful suit! What's his name?"

"Na - "

Nobara kicked Yuuji's foot.

"Err, Nacho. His name is Nacho."

"Why, hello there Nacho."

She reached across and time seemed to stop as she scratched Nanami-pom behind the ear. Ino's eyes went very wide. Megumi was sweating bullets, as if expecting Nanami-pom to pull out his tiny sword and ruin the lobby.

Instead, the small nose raised into the air with a huff and Nanami-pom tilted his head to the side, as if graciously allowing the woman's attentions. She was rightfully charmed.

"Oh, what poise. Do you enter him for dog shows and competitions?"

"Yes!" Ino all but shouted. "Er, all the time. He's a champion. Very well trained."

"Wow! Do you hear that, little Nacho? Why don't you show Peanut here what you can do? She's so spoilt and refuses to listen to me."

With the air of a dog show veteran, Nanami-pom emitted another put-upon sigh and hopped down from Nobara's shoulder. He looked up at the poodle expectantly. Peanut was considering him with trepidation, as if knowing that something was not quite right with the golden-furred canine that was staring at her with the commanding air of a human. A very intimidating human. She whined slightly before coming slowly over to him.

Nanami-pom raised his paw. Peanut rolled over. He got onto on his hind legs and moved the same paw in an up-and-down motion. Peanut leapt and bobbed on the spot. Nanami-pom placed one paw behind his back. Peanut got into a begging posture. The tiny, commanding paw then shot out horizontally. Peanut got on her back and played dead.

The woman watched in astonishment as Nanami-pom took Peanut through a series of motions, culminating with an elegant handshake. He dusted off his suit, as if concluding business, and jumped lightly back into Nobara's arms. A heavy silence lay over the group. The woman eyed Nanami-pom with the kind of reverence normally reserved for a pop idol or president.

"Wh - what breed is he? I - I've never seen such a - "

"He's a Golden ... Ratio Retriever," Megumi blurted out. "He's from Denmark. Very rare. Even among dogs of this breed, there's a three in seven chance of one as intelligent as ... Nacho being born."

At that moment, Gojo appeared and saved them from further fabrication. Nobara was about to tear Megumi a new one for that breed name. For a boy who exuded a cool and collected aura, he really was an awful liar.

The woman practically begged Gojo to set up a play date with Peanut, which he agreed to with a horrifically cheerful grin. Nanami-pom's eyes narrowed dangerously and the students all breathed heavy sighs of relief when they finally reached their rooms.

---‐‐----‐-------‐---------------------‐--

Nobara was situated in an adjoining room to the two boys. None of them felt like turning in immediately, so she plonked herself on Yuuji's bed and opened up the amusement park blueprints that Gojo had provided them with, spreading them out on the covers. The trio took some time to re-familiarize themselves with the layout, before realizing that Nanami-pom was no longer with them.

Looking around they spotted him sitting expectantly next to the small case Ijichi had provided for him. Puzzled, Yuuji went over to the case and opened it.

"Something you need in here, Nanamin?"

Inside, he found a bag with a tiny toothbrush, dog-friendly toothpaste, a comb, a few small vials, a puppy pad and a bottle. Megumi came up behind him and grabbed the supplies.

"I'll handle this. Neither of you know how to look after a ... well. Nanami, come here."

"Well, show us, then," Yuuji huffed.

Megumi beckoned to Nanami-pom, who hopped into his lap and settled comfortably. First, a small amount of toothpaste was applied to the brush and Megumi did a very thorough job of cleaning the tiny, sharp teeth. Next came the brushing. Nanami-pom wore a singularly satisfied look as Megumi brushed and parted the golden hair neatly along his back and head. Some of the conditioning supplements from the vials were then applied to the combed hair. Finally, Megumi placed the puppy pad in the bathroom, with the bottle propped upright in the centre of it.

"What's that for?"

"He can't use the toilet, genius. The bottle acts kind of like a pillar he can do his business against."

Nanami-pom took a moment to place his nose against Megumi's hand in a gesture of thanks before hopping down and entering the bathroom, nudging the door closed with his hind leg. Nobara flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Do you guys think we'll be able to change him back soon? What if the curse user ... I mean, what if Nanami's ... "

"He won't be like this for much longer," Yuuji said firmly, "We'll find that guy and make him change him back. I'll do whatever it takes."

Megumi was examining the blueprints again.

"This place is pretty big. I think we'll have to split up and form teams to enter the area. Gojo will be with us this time. It's not like the other tests where he wanted to see what we're capable of. He wants to turn Nanami back as soon as possible too."

"I mean, won't things be over really quickly then? The rest of us won't need to do much. The curse user isn't that powerful, right?"

Megumi sighed.

"And look what happened to Nanami. Sure, he was trying to save Yuuji, but even if the curse user's power isn't deadly, it's still debilitating and long lasting. Yuuji said that the beams reflect and bounce unpredictably off surfaces, meaning we can't tell from which direction attacks may come. Even if Gojo's with us, we can't afford to slack off. We're not trying to take him out, it's more of a negotiation to make him turn Nanami back. That's more tricky to pull off."

Nobara hummed thoughtfully.

"You know, this sounds more like a mission  where some stealth may be necessary."

"Stealth?" Yuuji laughed. "No offense, but none of us are really cut out for that."

"You think so?" Nobara grinned. "I can think of one person who can be super sneaky right now."

[lorebeth]

When you aren't looking

Disclaimer: Hello! This is my first ever piece on this website so I hope it reaches the right audience! I'm still a little new to this so if you have any tips for how to get better accustomed to the app I'd be happy to learn!

I've recently had a hyperfixation on Dan Heng so hopefully this expresses my love for him psfjdhfjsj HELP THERE'S A FEW SPELLING MISTAKES

TW: Might be a little sad, Dan Heng ignores reader due to his feelings, Dan Heng hopelessly in love with you and terrified of his feelings towards you. Readers birthday, mwah!

Dan Heng couldn't comprehend it. His feelings for you have skyrocketed and he can't help but get a feeling at the bottom of his stomach whenever he sees you.

He doesn't like what you've done to him these past few months since you first joined him and the others. He couldn't find it in his heart to trust you after the effect you had on him so drastically but he also couldn't help not let you into his heart through your caring actions towards the others. How you communicate with March 7th, it makes his heart flutter and the way you make coffee for Himeko before her waking up.

He wonderered what you haven't done to make everyone's life just that inch more easier. Even Pom Pom adored you in their own little way.

What really hit the nail on the coffin for Dan Heng was when you found him awake in the dead of night when even Welt himself was asleep. You carefully approached him with a careful hand on his shoulder, making him shiver whenever he remembers the event.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea, perhaps?" he knew you could see the bags under his eyes and the messy nest ontop of his head, yet all you did was offer him a hot beverage. You could have told him to go to sleep but he knew you knew that would have done nothing. And for that, he slowly started opening up to you. From a distance that is.

You had in fact won him over but his crippling fear of rejection stopped him. He couldn't face you again after he came to the conclusion he doesn't feel the same way he does with you with Himeko or March for example. How would you react if you saw him smile ever so gently whenever you help someone or whenever you explain to March why Welt has his phone brightness too high and can't change it due to his lack of expertise in mobile phones, causing March to giggle and try take Welt's phone.

So, he began to ignore you. And it did hurt him to see March come in his room without you because he simply couldn't see you. You had caught on quite quickly after the 3rd or 4th time he kept making excuses to not being able to spend time with you.

As time passed, your birthday was finally here and of course you felt horrible because this amazing boy was ignoring you, and of course you told March who felt the need to scold him personally and escort, as she frased it the, "Sorry Looking Emo Potato Salad" to the meeting held in place for your birthday. He of course had said previously that he was busy sorting out the files of the new monsters you had stumbled across and it would take the whole day. You felt your eyes tear up when he came in startled and with a face full of shame and desire to run away from the situation.

"March.. It's okay, he said he was busy. Honestly, Dan Heng it's okay, go do what you have to do." it angered you that the one you most wanted to spend your birthday with couldn't be bothered but your interest rised when he pulled out a little dark green envelope and a blue bag with a Happy Birthday plastered on it. It looked like his handwriting so perhaps it almost made up for him ignoring you all this time. Almost.

"Oh..? Thank you Dan Heng! I know you've been really busy these few weeks. So I appreciate it!" you were still upset but alot less now that you've seen the boy and you had a beautifully wrapped gift inside from him, there was shredded navy blue tissue paper covering the top.

"Happy Birthday Y/N. I'm sorry I haven't seen you much. I have to go now. If you don't like it or it isn't right, come to my room later tonight. I want you to open the envelope and my present last, please."

With that, the boy was off again. And instead of the feeling of sadness and hurt wash over you, you felt quite happy and curious for what he could have gotten you.

"Well that was weird.. Oh Y/N, Y/N!! Look at my gift!" you went on and started opening the rest of your presents, almost forgetting about the raven haired boy and his mysterious envelope and present.

After the little party, you found yourself ecstatic. You were going to have a sleepover with March after you got dressed and changed your out of your beautiful birthday outfit. Himeko wouldn't stop complimenting you and your colour combinations. It made you feel special.

Just as you were about to leave, from the corner of your eye, you see the little bag. You had put the envelope inside and from there you took it upstairs, having a quick chat with Welt and then changing.

You picked it up and saw a rectangular box, as you carefully tear off the paper, you see a stunning pair of earrings, they matched your everyday work outfit and still stood out, in the light shining your favourite shade of (F/C). You felt so full and empty at the same time, these must have cost a fortune but they were so fricking pretty. They made you laugh softly.

You had only discovered your feelings for him a week before he started disappearing on you. You made him that hot beverage and took him to his room, helping him put the last of his data he had collected and took his mug when he was finished. That moment was so domestic and made you strangely happy. You couldn't see yourself doing that for anyone other than March and you loved her like a sister.

The envelope caught your attention, as you begin to open it you hear a knock at your door, "Y/N! Are you coming?" March did have a habit of being impatient.

"Yes! One second, I'll be right there March." as she walked away, you opened the envelope, noticing the little pattern engraved onto the paper inside and on the envelope itself. It had a scent to it, as if Dan Heng himself hugged the letter and it caught his perfume.

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. I've grown to like you more than a friend would, and it hurts me every time I ignore you and you hurt. I've been afraid of rejection almost my entire life and I could not stand to lose another person I have grown to love. If you do not feel the same way, please ignore this letter. I just felt the need to explain myself because you deserve it. I've been selfish.

Yours, Dan Heng.

You've never sped walked to his room faster.

[clemblog]

Caine’s Lesson - Part 10

•

Pomni was in the ranch kitchen, helping Ma Gator with the next meal for the day, as Gummigoo, Max and Chad messed around outside whilst sorting through the supplies they'd found.

“You know Poms, I am glad my son found you.” She spoke softly.

“O-Oh, really?”

“Indeed. I think you’ll be good for him. You remind me of my late husband, you know.”

“I-I do?”

“Mhm, he was a sweetheart, just like yourself. A little timid but dived right into the adventures once he found his feet. It’s why I fell for him in the first place, he was so caring but also so hard working.”

“That sounds nice-“

“Indeed. It’s why I have hopes for you and my son! You compliment him rather well!”

Pomni didn’t know what to say to this, Justine nodding along as she cut up fruits and vegetables. Her face was a little flustered but she wasn’t going to acknowledge that-

“You know Gummigoo, you’re real buddy buddy with Poms~” Mused Max.

“She’s cool, why I wouldn’t I be?” Hummed Gummigoo, softly with a smile.

Max and Chad just looked at each other at this.

You ever look at your friend and you know they have it bad for someone? But they don’t even realise it themselves? That’s what was happening right now.

…

They sure weren’t going to tell him-

This would be hilarious.

“Hey… uh Lou? Where are you?” Hummed Pomni, sheepishly, looking around the barn for Lou.

“I’m over here Poms!” Smiled Lou, waving her over. She was currently knitting some blankets, like she’d learnt so from Ma Croc!

“Hi- Can I talk to you?” Said Pomni, softly. “I uh- need to see if I’m reading a situation correctly-“

“Oh! Right! What’s up? What’s the gossip?” She grinned, gently. Pomni sat down across from her, taking the yarn Lou was making to straighten it out for her ease. She then began to retell Lou the interaction she’d had with Ma.

“Well, how does it make you feel?”

“I’m not sure- If I think she’s insinuating what I think she is- I’m not- against it- But I don’t think I’m ready for it yet- But I will be eventually- J-Just not yet- Does that make sense?”

“Oh totally! It does, especially since all the stuff that’s happened since you arrived here, you know? And it’s weird to say but I think I know the feeling?”

“Y-You do?”

“Yeah, you know those knights I was talking about? Well- I don’t remember her face- But she was so sweet- And so genuine that I can’t help but think of her sometimes- Do you think one day she’ll come back?”

“Oh- I don’t know- Maybe..? We’ll just have to wait and see I suppose-“

•

The circus group had long since headed to bed since their little meet up! Opting to reconvene in the morning.

Everyone was sat back in a little circle, just chatting or doing their own thing.

Then Caine appeared.

“Hello everyone!” He exclaimed, popping into existence. “I am here to collect Gangle for her solo adventure!”

“W-Wait- What..?” Eeked Gangle.

“That is not happening-“ Frowned Zooble, putting an arm firmly on Gangle’s shoulder.

“Yeah, wet blanket here would never get out of a solo adventure if it’s anything like the one I went on.” Hummed Jax.

Gangle didn’t know whether to thank Jax and be annoyed with him at that-

“Yeah Caine! Nobody here wants to go on solo adventures! If we’re going on an adventure it’s one to get back Pomni!” Huffed Ragatha.

Caine’s upbeat attitude seemed to be fading at these claims.

“I-I see. Well. I… was going to keep most of you here.. in hopes someone would abstract and then you’d all need me again-! Pomni would come back- And I’d be your lovable ring master again! …But I see that’s not going to be the case.. Is it? So, I guess it’s time for a clean slate…”

“Wait- What?!” Eeked Ragatha.

A portal wrapped around the group and swallowed them whole.

It was time for a new adventure.

“A-Are you sure this is a good idea Caine?”

“…Never. But I can’t do much else. They’ll need me but I won’t come. They’ll abstract and I can start over.”

“…oh..”

•

Pomni was happily tucked in bed now after a long day. They were set for another day of adventures tomorrow with Gummigoo, Max and Chad. They would never have too many supplies! Especially since some members of the surviving candy kingdom were talking about repopulation, already excited at the premise of a new start with a new kingdom. It was why Lou had got so crafty, she wanted her current citizens and any new citizens that’d arrive in the future to be as comfortable as possible!

If they wanted to be efficient at work, they needed to be well rested, comfy, fed and happy! So, that was the current plan of action for everyone at ranch, which had slowly expanded into a little makeshift village from residents expanding out of the barn into their own bigger makeshift spaces.

It was finally becoming a sustainable and safe area to live and thrive.

•

Ragatha, Jax, Kinger, Zooble and Gangle fell into a familiar chocolate goop.

Oh dear.

Oh god.

This wasn’t good. Was it?

Something was happening.

A deep rumble struck from the void, felt by all humans and NPC’s alike in the form of many apparitions.

Some had nightmares.

Some had stomach aches.

Some felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

Others just slept on undisturbed.

Things were changing in this world.

And it felt like for the worst.

Caine’s AI had changed. And it was Pomni’s fault. Wasn’t it? Was it?

•

A little note from me to you.

CHAPTER TEN!!!

Woo, look at me go! So many words, so many things to write next.

Thank you to everyone who's read this far and has showed support!

I know their are a lot of people making their own

TADC stories and universes, but to know that a collective of people enjoy mine in my own little corner of the internet with silly little comments means so much to me.

So thank you so much for reading!! I'll see you in Chapter 11. <3

Part 11

[teaberrii]

Chapter 4: Shall We Date...?

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“...My ex-wife.”

You sit up for what feels like the tenth time that night. It has been hours since you and Jing Yuan parted ways, but you still can’t get that out of your head. You’d wanted to ask, but was that too personal? Regardless, you didn’t get a chance as Yanqing and Pom had woken up.

Now, you're left with a million questions. But, this means Jing Yuan isn't gay. Or, maybe he’s pan, bi, or—

You sigh loudly and fall back onto the bed. Does his ex-wife still work at Star Rails Hotel? Who is she? A manager? Or, just another regular employee like you? How long were they together? What happened—

You sit up. This is getting out of hand. Your eyes are dying to rest, but your mind’s running laps. You get out of bed and slip on a thin jacket over your PJs. Then, off you go to get some much-needed fresh air.

The air is crisp and chilly, calming your mind in ways that lying in bed can never accomplish. Eventually, you come across a pool where the dim glow of the lights inside the water makes it look almost ethereal. You’re walking along the side of the pool when you hear a woman’s voice.

“Can’t sleep either?” You look towards the white beach chairs just as March lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head. She’s looking at you with a small smile. “Join the club.”

“What’s with the sunglasses?” you ask in amusement, coming up to take the empty chair beside her. “Not judging, just wondering.”

“I was hoping it’d help me get some sleep, but then someone showed up out of the blue.” March sits up, her thin, airy blazer moving to the side. She says she’s here to get some sleep, but with her crop top and shorts, you think she's ready for a swim. “What’s keeping you awake, Femme Fatale? Is it a guy, hm?” She leans forward and whispers, “Is it Boss?”

“...Are you talking about Jing Yuan?”

“Who else?”

You cross one leg over the other. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other at the dinner table.” She chuckles. “Nothing escapes my eyes.”

“Well, he’s been a nice guy so far,” you admit, looking at the pool.

“Hey…” When you turn back, March is looking at you with curiosity. “Are you trying to find some faults in him or something?”

“It’s not that. It’s…” Then, you give her a deadpan look. “You’re asking a whole lot of questions, March.”

She laughs. “Sorry. To make up for my rudeness, is there anything you’d like to know?”

Well…

“Why do you call him Boss?”

March leans back and looks out at the pool. You sense there's a personal story behind the nickname as the silence is not what you’re expecting. Then, March says, “Long story, but we were guests when he was still getting this B&B off the ground.” She turns to you. “...Back then, I was still active.” Active? “Judging from your expression, you still don’t know who I am, huh?”

“You’re March, right? That influencer—”

Just as the man’s words come back to you, March says, “March 7th reporting for duty!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes widen. “You’re March 7th?!”

“Gosh, took you long enough.” She sighs. “Then again, I can’t blame you.”

March 7th. She was a popular online influencer in her early twenties who disappeared from the Internet after multiple scandals. 

‘Fake’ Rich Girl Cancelled

Scandal-ridden Influencer Upcoming Appearance Cancelled

Online Influencer Stops Activites After Unreal Discovery…

You’ve heard of her and seen her ads in department stores. While you weren’t a fan, per se, you knew that she was known for her popular videos that showcased her “idol-like” visuals and talent. She sang and danced and appeared on reality shows. You vaguely remember hearing from your friends that she was caught smoking or promoting fake products. There were more accusations, but you didn't pay much attention as you had your life to worry about. 

Regardless, you remember her being much skinnier with long hair. Her makeup style was also a lot bolder than what it is now. That was years ago. Now her features have matured, but when you look closely, you can see it. The essence of who she used to be.

While you don’t remember what caused her online career to plummet, you’re at a loss for words. You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d meet someone like March 7th.

“...You’re not going to ask?” 

“About your scandals?” You’re curious, no doubt. “That’s none of my business. But, I just…” Then, quietly, “It’s crazy to think that a celebrity is in front of me right now.”

“Looks like my hunch about you was right.” She puts her hands on the chair. “You’re not the type that goes crazy over celebrities and whatnot.”

“I like to think I’m past that phase, thank you very much.”

You and March quietly laugh. Then, she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She slides it open and offers you one. You politely decline. To your surprise, she puts it back inside her pocket instead of lighting one.

“...Anyway, to answer your question, Jing Yuan helped me out of a bad place.”

It was the early hours of a cloudy day when March went out for a smoke. She lit a cigarette and took a drag just as she saw a shirtless Jing Yuan working in the garden. Did he really not recognize her? He’d treated her like any other person. She wasn’t a failed celebrity or a girl with "issues." She was just like everyone else.

March walked over and continued watching him. She’d seen her fair share of physically attractive older men. But maybe it was because of the industry she was in that most of them were sleazy or had ulterior motives. Yet what she’d seen of Jing Yuan so far... He was none of those things but a hardworking, upstanding guy.

Jing Yuan stood and turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Your attention would be nice.” Jing Yuan raised a brow, and March chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” Then, she took another drag. “...You don’t happen to have a map of the island, do you? It’s my first time here.”

“You can find one at the reception counter. Pom should have some—”

“Already checked,” March lied. “Do you have any at your office?”

Jing Yuan walked up to her, and March awkwardly avoided his eyes. “You checked, huh?”

“...Yup.”

But, instead of calling her out on her lie, he put on a shirt and said, “...Follow me.”

When they walked side-by-side, she casually asked, “Why don’t you hire someone to do all this manual labour for you?”

“Someone’s curious.”

March shrugged. “Just something I observed. You have a few workers here and there, but you’re still doing a lot of the management stuff yourself.” She looked around at the guests who were enjoying a casual BBQ or casually strolling around the resort. “But, this place looks like it’s doing well enough for you to hire a few extra people.”

“For someone on holiday, you sure are paying a lot of attention to what’s happening around here.”

Jing Yuan opened a door to the cabin designed like a mini office. But, before March could follow him inside, he said, "...Wait here."

She stepped closer to him and her body was inches away from his. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you'd be trespassing, and I could kick you out."

March almost felt offended at how unamused he sounded. "...Do you know who I am?"

"Are you here for the map or not?"

March sighed and walked off the porch. "Go on. I'll wait here." 

When Jing Yuan came back out, March was sitting on a rock, looking bored as hell. He walked over and handed the map to her. "This one has a few day trip recommendations so you'll have ideas of what you can do."

March stood and took it from him. Then, she crossed her arms. "Sounds like you're trying to kick me out."

"That wasn't my intention. You're free to stay, of course. But, it would be a waste to spend your entire day at the resort. There's a lot to see."

Sensing his genuine kindness, March frowned. “You aren’t scared your reputation’s going to plummet because you’re housing an unruly celebrity?" 

“If I was, I wouldn't have let you stay here."

"So you do know who I am," she said, narrowing her eyes.

“No matter who you are, you’re a guest like everyone else. Why would I treat you any differently?”

There’s so much to unpack that you don’t know where to start. 

“I kinda wanted to flirt with him, if I’m being honest," March says, leaning back. "But, after he said that, it made me realize that I was young and dumb.”

“...How so?”

“The rumours about me that were going around at the time… Not all of them were true. But, I started believing all the nasty things people were calling me." March sighs. “I won’t bore you with details, but Jing Yuan was a stranger. Him treating me just like any other person made me see things a little differently. Maybe he was judging me back then, but if a stranger could see past that, why couldn’t I do it for myself?”

“You seem to be doing a lot better now,” you say with a little smile. 

“I am, but I’d like to attribute that to my hard work. It has nothing to do with Jing Yuan.” She laughs. “But, yeah, I mean… it’s in the past and we get a good laugh about it now.”

“I never thought you’d be into older men, though, if I’m being honest.”

March leans forward. “Jing Yuan ages like fine wine, I swear. We’d never mix well, but I was so shocked to hear about his divorce.”

“...Was he married when you, uh…”

March raises her hands as if declaring innocence. “I knew nothing about a wife and a kid back then. If I knew, I wouldn’t have flirted with him. Wasn’t a few years later that I found out. It’s still a shock to many people.” March lies back on the chair. “He hasn’t seen anyone since... probably because he was so busy trying to get this business off the ground that he had no time for things like that."

The skies have brightened, and from over the horizon, the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

“Hey.” You turn to March who has a curious sparkle in her eyes. She asks, “What do you think of Jing Yuan?”

“...He seems like a good guy.”

March rolls her eyes. “Girl, give me the tea. Do you think he’s hot?”

You don’t get a chance to answer when you and March see someone enter the pool area. Jing Yuan’s shirtless, but it isn’t just his toned body that takes your breath away. The abstract dragon tattoo that runs from his shoulder to his chest looks like it's handpainted. He looks in your direction, and unbeknownst to you, March waves at him.

“Out for your morning swim?” she asks.

Jing Yuan slips on a black beach blazer and walks over. “What are you two doing up so early?”

“What do you think? None of us could sleep.”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “Why’s that? Is it a problem with the room?”

“The room’s fine,” you say, looking away, your face feeling slightly hot.

March glances from you to Jing Yuan and back to you. Then, she takes out her phone and sees the flurry of messages. “Ah… I’d better head back,” she says, standing. “Will you two be okay?”

“What makes you think we won't?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Boss,” March looks at you and chuckles. “Well, toodles!”

Jing Yuan puts a hand inside his pocket as he watches her run off. Then, he sits in the chair in front of you. “...Don’t tell me I did something to upset you, Corporal.”

You finally turn his way. “What makes you think that?”

“Seems like you didn’t want to look at me for a bit there.” You can’t help but look at his dragon tattoo. Then, his low voice comes again. “Curious?”

You look up and see him looking at you with interest. “A little.”

Jing Yuan smiles and looks down. “Well, why don’t I make you a deal?”

“...What kind of a deal?”

He nods at the pool. “Take a swim with me, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I’m in my PJs if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t tell me you came to a resort without bringing a swimsuit.”

“I came here for work.” Jing Yuan continues looking at you until you cave. “...Okay, I did bring something.”

Jing Yuan chuckles. “You’re right, though. You’re here for work. But, if you need to relax, the pool’s always open… most of the time.”

You slightly smile. “Are you here every morning?”

“Every other day. Otherwise, I go for a run.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or call you crazy.”

“Why not both?”

“Because that’s being too nice,” you deadpan.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

"What gave it away?" You rub your eyes. "Sorry. I can really feel the fatigue kicking in.”

“Go back and get some sleep.”

You sigh and stand. “But, breakfast’s in an hour.” You don’t need to guess that you’re going to oversleep.

“...Text me when you’re awake.”

You look at Jing Yuan who’s also standing now. “Why?”

“Special service.”

“...Special service?” 

“If you want to go out and grab something to eat when you’re awake, that’s fine. Or…” Your eyes widen when he leans slightly closer and whispers in your ear, “...The owner can cook something for you in a private kitchen. No pressure.”

“Private… kitchen?” You narrow your eyes. “Trying to butter up the enemy, huh?”

“Enemy?” He chuckles. “If that’s how you want to put it. But”—he smiles mischievously—”you’re going have to do a little better to get secrets out of me.”

“Who said anything about secrets?”

“It’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” Then, he leans upright. “Good luck, Corporal.”

You watch Jing Yuan walk and dive with perfect form into the swimming pool. Now you’re not just tired. You’re also a little annoyed… but excited?

◆◆◆

By the time you’re awake, it’s a little past noon. 

You wash up and change into comfortable clothes before opening your phone and seeing a bunch of texts from your friends. You forgot you left your phone on silent and didn’t bother checking it. Some are from your mom, asking how everything’s been. So, you give her a call.

“Are you having too much fun that you forgot all about me?” she jokes.

“It’s why I’m calling you now.”

You get her up to speed with what’s been happening, including that you are friends with the owner of the B&B. Of course, you don’t go into details about the… flirting that’s been happening.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

“More or less.”

“...Do you know that he’s been trying to reach me?”

“Who?”

As soon as your mom says your ex’s name, you frown. “...He really wants to get back in touch with you.”

“Mom, I thought I told you to block him.”

“I did! But one of your friends reached out and… He wants you to give him another chance."

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen." A small pause. "I’ll deal with this. I won’t let them harass you anymore.”

You sigh loudly when you end the call. This is not how you imagined to start the day. Jing Yuan suddenly flashes in your mind, and you slightly shake your head.

You’re thinking about the best course of action when you head outside and hear overlapping voices. The closer you get to the stone villa, the louder it gets. Then, you see a small crowd surrounding two tall men who look like clones of one another. Both have a handsome face. But one has green eyes and long black hair that reminds you of an elegant prince while the other has short black hair and dull blue eyes. A short distance away, Welt is watching with vague amusement. When he sees you, he waves.

“...What’s going on?” you ask, walking up.

“Ah… Let me apologize for the commotion on behalf of my friends,” Welt says.

“Your friends?” 

You look closer, and you swear you’ve seen them before. They’ve just finished taking a photo with two girls when the man with the long hair notices you. He walks past one woman and up to you.

“Is this the woman you and March were talking about?” he asks.

“My latest inspiration and the woman who stood up for March? Yes.”

When the man smiles at you, your heart almost skips a beat. “Hi.” He holds out a hand. 

You awkwardly take it. “Hi… You’re not going to give me a name?”

The man looks a little surprised as if you should know who he is.

“...Clearly, my brother’s head is still in the clouds.” The other one walks over and gives you a little smile. “My name’s Dan Heng. This is my brother, Dan Feng.”

Where have you heard those names before…?

“They’re athletes,” Welt says as if reading your mind. 

That’s when it hits you, and you gasp.

“Didn’t you compete in the Global Games?”

“That’s right,” Dan Feng answers. “Two-time fencing and kendo gold medalists.”

Your jaw almost drops. 

“Welt and March told us about you,” Dan Heng says. 

“We’ve been curious,” Dan Feng adds. Then, with a little smile, he says, “You’re prettier than they described.”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment. 

“...What are you doing?” Dan Heng deadpans.

“What? I’m being honest.”

Welt and Dan Heng roll their eyes just as you hear, “...You’re awake.”

You turn around and see Jing Yuan dressed in a fitted, V-neck, dark gray shirt and white pants. 

Dan Feng chuckles. “Don’t tell me you have a date with the owner.”

“That’s…” You remember your mom and your annoyingly persistent ex. Then, you're hit with an interesting but workable idea. Before Jing Yuan can say anything, you say, “...Could we talk?”

As the brothers watch you and Jing Yuan walk into the stone villa, Dan Heng side-eyes his brother. “Don’t be getting any weird ideas.”

“You hurt me, Brother. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Because you never prove me otherwise.” Then, he sees Welt looking in the direction you and Jing Yuan had walked off. “...Welt? Is something wrong?”

Welt turns back. “Oh, no. I… just had a thought.”

“Inspiration, perhaps?” Dan Feng asks.

“...Something like that.”

Pom greets you and Jing Yuan with a salute when you enter the lobby. Then, in a cheery voice, he takes the receptionist’s phone call.

“If you want privacy, we can talk on the patio,” Jing Yuan says.

Sure, why not? It’ll give you a chance to gather your thoughts. 

Jing Yuan leads you upstairs, and despite Pom’s professionalism on the phone, his eyes are following your every move. Jing Yuan opens a set of doors that leads to a rooftop patio that has a fireplace and some couches and chairs. 

“...I got a call from my mom today,” you say, sitting on the adjacent couch.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Apparently, my ex’s been bothering her.”

“...That’s not a good sign.”

“My friends have been texting me about unblocking him, too. And…” You sigh and look away. “...Getting a bit off topic there. But, just to get them off my back for now, could you…” Gosh, this sounded a lot better in your head.

“You want me to play the fake boyfriend?” 

“I mean… You don’t have to do anything. It’s not like they’re actually here, so—”

Jing Yuan leans forward and looks at you with a little smile. “That’s true, but I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

Your pulse quickens as he continues looking at you. “I’m also looking for other ways to get him off my back, but I'd appreciate the help.”

“If it escalates, you could file a police complaint.”

“...I hope it won’t get that far,” you mutter. You lean back. “We may have broken up, but… we were friends for years before we dated. Just kinda sucks that’s all gone too.”

“If you remained friends with him… do you think that friendship would continue to last?”

“...Hard to say.”

“Sometimes, we outgrow our friends, and ending things with them may not be as ugly as relationships but..."

"It still hurts... if not more," you finish. Then, you glance at him, thinking whether to ask him about his ex-wife when Jing Yuan’s phone goes off.

He reaches into his pocket and looks at the screen. Then, he looks at you apologetically. “I have a meeting.”

“Ah, no worries. Sorry for keeping you.”

“...Looks like my special service will have to come a little later,” he says, standing.

“You were serious about that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You stand and shrug. “I thought you were just saying it. Seems a little much.”

Then, he leans over and suddenly kisses your cheek. “Well, you’re not just a guest anymore, are you?” When you see him looking at you, your face feels warm. “...As I said, I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

This is just temporary. You’re here for work.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

Chapter 5

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @grimreapersscythe @nqctre

[strawberrycrushes]

Hello!, I saw that your requests were open. Can I request Jing Yuan, Welt and Screwllium with a shy!reader who loves to figure skate? Reader is very private about it, yet also very pasionate about it. Reader will plan to go skating at places at times where there's no one present so they can preform figure skating tricks freely. If there isn't any music, reader will just sing it themselves. They'll skate for as long as they can, and won't stop untill either (a) someone finds them, (b) they're too tired to keep going,or (c) they're too cold continue.

thank youu

❄️

A/N: Dear snowflake, thank you so much for the request however I will unfortunately have to exclude Screwllium because I only write for playable characters. I had a lot of fun with this request so I hope you enjoy.

Welt:-

Ever since the Express had landed in Jarilo-VI, you had acquired the strange habit of disappearing into the world’s frost-covered plains, only coming back much later; freezing cold and completely drained. It worried Welt half to death, but since you never revealed what you were up to, he just had to get used to the feeling. It helped that, ever since you started these so-called expeditions, you carried yourself with more satisfaction and confidence, or at least the closest thing to those he had ever seen you carry yourself with. It was nice seeing you like that.

Today, though, was different. You were late. Late enough to warrant concern from Himeko and Pom Pom as well. It confirmed that he wasn't just exaggerating the issue in his head, which was the only thing he needed to know before heading out to find you–

And find you he did.

You were out skating across an ice lake, humming a melody that matched the grace of your movements. You were so focused on these motions that you didn’t even notice him standing there, enchanted.

He was awestruck as he watched you make great leaps across the ice, pirouetting along to a routine even he could recognize as extraordinarily difficult. So this was what you were up to then?

When you finally skidded to a stop, he instinctively raised his hands to clap for you. A move that proved itself to be poorly thought out when you swerved around to look at him with wide eyes, nearly tripping along the way.

“M-Mr. Yang? What are you doing here?” You tried to steady yourself, the shock, confusion, and embarrassment evident in your face

Welt chuckled, “Perhaps it would be better if you got off the ice first?” he said playfully, and you quickly slid over with a beet red face, moving to retrieve the boots you hid inside a bush to replace the skates you were currently wearing.

“So um… Mr. Yang…” you trailed off, unsure how to ask him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this. I myself am sorry that I didn’t tell you I was watching earlier. I’m afraid I might have encroached upon your privacy.” Welt gave you an apologetic look, and you flailed around with your hands.

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s actually probably for the best that you didn’t or else I would have fallen face first in the ice.” you awkwardly chuckled, causing Welt to laugh.

“If I may ask, you were figure skating, right?”

You nod and mumble, “It’s just a hobby I picked up from my home world, nothing special.”

“Liar.” Welt smiled, “If it really was nothing special to you, you wouldn’t be able to skate that way. I’ve seen figure skaters before, and if I had to say, you’d be amongst the best.”

You blush, “You’re flattering me”

“I’m being serious. Even if you didn’t want to share your talents with the world, you still ended up with a fan in me.”

You looked up at the earnest look on his face and smiled.

To be honest, figure skating was supposed to be a private hobby you could enjoy while nobody was watching. You loved it, yes, and you enjoyed the subtle comfort it gave you, but you honestly never believed anyone could enjoy it the same way you did. Yet somehow, when Mr. Yang saw your ‘performance’, as embarrassing as it was, you had to admit… it felt nice.

“Thank you, Mr. Yang. I appreciate it, really.”

A comfortable silence fell on the snowy plains. You hesitated, then asked, “If it’s not too rude to ask, what were you doing out here anyway?”

Welt’s eyes widened, “Shoot. I was supposed to come look for you because you hadn’t returned to the Express yet, and it completely slipped my mind just how late it was getting.”

…

……

You tried to hold back your laughter, but failed. This time, it was Welt’s turn to be embarrassed. “If you’re done laughing, we should probably head back now”

“Right.” you cleared your throat, clearly still amused by his misstep. Getting up, you begin to trail behind him with a smile on your face you couldn’t hold back. Maybe sharing this little hobby of yours wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Not when it was Welt, anyway.

Jingyuan:-

You took a deep breathe, then began.

Steadily pushing yourself forward, you carefully fell into the skating routine you had recently started practicing. Increasing your intensity with the rise and fall of the music playing in the background, the thin grinding of your skates against the ice being the only other sound that could be heard alongside. It felt like you were creating magic in the moment, something you easily got lost in until you couldn’t go on anymore.

Panting on the edge of the ring you reached out to grab your bottle of water only to find nothing there.

“Looking for something?” A suave voice called out from besides you.

You whipped your head around to find your boss, Jingyuan, teasingly waving your bottle in front of you with a sly smile. “I had no idea you could skate like that, why didn’t you tell me?”

You flush red. It was difficult not to be embarrassed when your literal boss caught you in one of your most private moments.

“I- I’m sorry General. Do you need me for anything? I’ll get right back to work-“

You try to stand up but Jingyuan quickly cuts you off “No no, not to worry. There’s no work to be done. I was hoping to invite you to a cup of coffee since you seemed so tired all the time but instead…I seemed to have come across the reason why, no?”

You gulp, “Um well, that’s-“ You try to think of something to say and Jingyuan chuckles.

“No need to be so tense, I only jest. I was actually very impressed with your performance here today and couldn’t help but ask, how come you haven’t told anyone about your hobby? You’re very good at it, I don’t doubt that you could even take it to an intergalactic stage-“

“General.” You cut him off this time. “Please. It’s nothing special. Besides, it’s meant to a more…private hobby. I feel uncomfortable figure skating when there are other people around”

“You were fine when I was watching”

“I didn’t know you were there!”

“Hmm, really?” He seemed to ponder this for a while though you find it quite impossible to believe he didn’t already know that. “Alright, new question. Is it possible for you to pretend that I’m not here once more? I want to watch again. If that’s okay with you of course. I wasn’t lying when I said I liked seeing you skate”

“You-!”

You had no idea what to say. How could he even say things like that with a straight face? Did he really want to see skate again that bad?

You gulp and reach out to grab the water bottle from his hands. Taking a sip, you mull it over, occasionally glancing back over to Jingyuan. How you weren’t as opposed to this as you initially thought, you had no idea either, but you wanted to give it a try.

“Fine” You mumble underneath your breath and try not to let your heart flutter too much at the sight of an honest to god genuine smile on your boss’s face. You slide back on to the middle of the ice rink, getting into position again.

As the music takes off, so do you. Twirling to the music you try to balance yourself on your skates but with the newfound nervousness that come with having an audience, even if there was only one member, you quickly found yourself slipping up. Very literally. As in, falling gracelessly on your ass.

“Are you hurt?” Jingyuan gave you a worried look.

You bit the inside of your cheek. How embarrassing. “No. It’s fine”

You get up, and try again, continuing on where the music currently was. This time, you didn’t trip immediately, feeling comfortable in adding that previous flourish you had when figure skating alone, but when you caught sight of the pride in Jingyuan’s face, your breathe hitched and you got distracted. Consequently you tripped.

You sigh in frustration, trying to get up again before promptly letting out a hiss of pain. Ah, your ankle. You must have injured it in the tumble…

Jingyuan immediately rushed to your side, hesitantly inspecting your ankle, carefully setting it back down when you grimaced.

“Not to worry. It appears you’ve only sprained it” He tries to reassure you but you have a feeling he’s telling that to himself as well. “It’ll be fine after some icing and rest, but I still want to take you to a doctor just to be sure.”

Before you could insist that you really were fine, you felt yourself be scooped up by the general as he began carrying you out, effectively turning you to mush. Your heartbeat went haywire and none of your thoughts felt comprehensive.

“G-general?”

“I am sorry for making you perform in such an unfamiliar environment.” He said, sounding incredibly guilty. “This is my fault. At least let me make it up to you”

You gazed at him silently then sighed, gulping down the lump in your throat. “A-alright. Perhaps it would be best to have to go through a proper check up”. You mumble, barely audible.

Jingyuan smiles before continuing on. How silly, you thought. You felt your heart skipped a beat once more.

[starlitwhispers]

to another world, to another you limochi — 6000 words a/n: Happy early Birthday to my bff, my love, my heart!!!! i took some liberties here and there but i hope you enjoy this offshoot of your precious children i had sm fun writing them<3 @musubiki summary: The world is out of balance, something isn’t right. Mochi doesn’t know what it is, but she can feel it. She looks at Pom, who tilts her head, sensing her uncertainty. Something — something is missing… but what? ‘Him!’ A voice flashes in her mind, but she doesn’t know who ‘him’ is…

...

…

The bell rings. Her long, brown hair bounces as her body turns around from behind the counter. She smiles as she sees a regular patron come in, welcoming them. Somewhere, on one of the shelves of the lower counter, Pom lays curled into a ball. The day passes into obscurity. Stacking, sorting, a text from Coco here, a phone call from her mom there. She makes herself a nice warm drink, enjoys it in a free moment, and sees it is now 5 PM. Time to close up shop; her cardigan slips off her shoulder while she finagles into her bag searching for keys. 

Right before she closes the door, she looks around the shop to make sure nothing is amiss. Something feels off. She can’t put a finger on it, so she shrugs her shoulders and lets the door close behind her. She’ll figure it out tomorrow. Her fingers turn with the key in the lock and she drops the carabiner clip back into her bag with a clink. 

“Let’s head out Pom!” Mochi says to her familiar, happy and carefree. As she walks through the streets, the sun setting in the background paints the sky a blood orange. It’s a warm day in September, no sudden chills of autumn slipping by yet. When she walks through the front door of her home, her mother greets her from the kitchen. 

“Oh, hi honey, how was your day?” Tiramisu asks, drying a casserole dish with a cloth. 

“It was good! …I think,” Mochi responds, scratching the side of her neck and smiling sheepishly. Gently, she lets her bag slip off her shoulder and down her arm onto the couch. 

Her mother blinks, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “You think? That reply doesn’t inspire confidence, you know.” 

Suddenly, Mochi jerks upwards, her hands coming up and waving her mother off. “I really don’t mean to cause alarm or anything, I mean it. I just have been feeling strange today. Everything’s okay!” 

And with that, Tiramisu strides across the living room to her daughter, her hand reaching out to grab her daughter’s chin, and giving her a bottom-up inspection. Mochi’s cheeks flare up in heat, embarrassed by her mother’s overprotectiveness.

“Hmmm,” Tiramisu muses. “You seem fine to me. Maybe you’re just tired, go upstairs and rest. I need you to deliver something tomorrow across town for me.” 

“R-Really? Another delivery? Guess we’ve been doing pretty well lately, huh?” The brunette perks up, a little reassured her mother senses nothing off but also excited to make a delivery. 

“Yes, well, the M34TH hasn’t really been turning their noses up in the area for a while, so it makes for pretty good foot traffic for magic users around here. But remember, if you ever see that white uniform, try to discreetly walk away — or if they come up to you, act like you know nothing because—”

“Yes, yes, I know mom,” Mochi cuts in, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body to hug herself. “You’ve drilled it in that they aren’t company to keep for… witches like us.” 

“Right, good, I’m glad you remembered,” her mother nods, turning back to the kitchen. 

Mochi has yet to meet anyone from the M34TH, so in her mind, everyone from the M34TH is bad. She’s caught glimpses of their officers in the distance whenever she’s on the outskirts of town, but really, she’s never come anywhere close to them. The idea of coming in contact with anyone from the regiment… It frightens her. As she slogs up the stairs and into her bedroom, her body drops onto her bed. 

Pom has jumped up beside her, propped up and sitting. Her own mother says everything seems fine, but for some reason, she can’t shake the feeling. Again, just as she did at the bookstore, she looks about her bedroom. Everything is in its place, nothing out of turn. Something feels like it’s gone. Her phone buzzes. It’s Coco asking when they can hang out. An odd sensation sweeps over Mochi’s body, as she taps out of the conversation and sees her conversations with other contacts. ‘Mom,’ ‘Coco,’ ‘Oscar,’ and that is it… Of course, there were various numbers from old classmates and the like, but within her circle of immediate persons to talk to, that is it. She blinks, and then shoves her face in her pillow. 

She lifts her face from the pillow, sighing. She knows she should trust her mom, but this is a feeling she knows she cannot deny. Even if it is just her who can sense it, so be it. This must be a mission only she as the cat witch can handle. The world is out of balance, something isn’t right. Mochi doesn’t know what it is, but she can feel it. She looks at Pom, who tilts her head, sensing her uncertainty. Something — something is missing… but what? ‘Him!’ A voice flashes in her mind, and her body jolts up at the strange voice calling out to her. Someone is missing? But she doesn’t know who ‘him’ is…

Her eyes glance over at her alarm clock, it’s 6:30. Dinner should be ready. Mochi slowly tumbles out of bed, a headache growing behind her eyes. The frustration is beginning to burn with every blink, maybe she really is just tired? No, that isn’t it. And she knows it. 

The natural forces are affecting her; the essences and spirits are trying to let her know what is amiss. And her body is too immature to take it all in at once. She takes her seat at the table, her mother preparing dinner and setting it down. They spend the entirety of the meal talking about Tiramisu’s plans for both of them tomorrow; her mother will be headed to the inner capitol for a day or two due to restocking on certain ingredients, and Mochi will be traveling to the other side of town to make the delivery. 

Mochi quietly eats her portion of dinner, not a lot as her appetite wanes in the anxiety and uncertainty, and excuses herself to an early retirement for the night. She takes a bath in silence, her face gently bobbing above the waterline as she watches the steam rise to the ceiling. She dries herself, blow-dries her hair, lotions her body, and slips a big t-shirt on. She curls up into a ball into bed, Pom following suit after she turns the light off. 

“You know I can tell something weighs on your mind,” Pom says in the darkness, with Mochi’s back facing her. 

“Mhmm.. mmm… mmhpphm…!” Mochi mumbles into her pillow, deliberately groaning to herself in self-pity. 

“Hah?!” Pom yaps at her. 

At that moment, Mochi springs up, turning to look down at her cat familiar. “I said, do you think it’s possible to forget something, and not be able to know what it is?!” 

“Cannot say I do, is that not the whole point about forgetting? Being unable to recall it?”

The witch takes a breath, calming down. “Yeah, I would suppose you’re right. But I just can’t shake like I’m forgetting something really big, or like there’s something missing. Do you think I left something at the shop?” 

“No, I saw you look around anyhow. If you are that worried, just do one of the reminder spells, we can grab the stuff you need tomorrow.” 

Taking Pom’s suggestion to heart, Mochi relaxes. “Y-Yeah! You’re right, I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up! We’ll just get the ingredients tomorrow, and then I’ll have an answer for sure.” 

Laying back down, she stares at the ceiling. Tomorrow will be better. They have a delivery, when she drops the delivery off, she can pick up the ingredients she needs since they’re common items anyway. She loosens up a little more, closing her eyes. She likes when she has deliveries on the other side of town, more walking; it means she’ll have to take the route on the outskirts of town to get there. 

Tomorrow will be better. 

And boy, is she wrong about that. 

The next morning starts off nothing short of normal. Her mother has already up and left for the capitol, and Mochi eats breakfast with Pom. She grabs her bag off the couch where she put it yesterday, and retrieves the parcel Tiramisu prepared the night before for delivery. Slipping her shoes on, she’s ready to make her way through town to deliver this package. Pom follows at her heels as she locks the door behind her and begins making her way through the streets. It’s quite a long walk, approximately 1 hour to reach the destination, but she thinks she could use the exercise anyway. These are the moments she wishes her mother would allow her to use her broom, but it’s bright out. 

About fifteen minutes into it, she arrives at the outskirts of town to reach the route which will take her straight there. And right before she reaches it, as she walks down a narrow path through some buildings, white fabric flashes into her eyesight. Exactly what her mother told her the evening before to be aware of. An officer from the M34TH. Immediately, her heart starts racing, as this tall individual has caught sight of her as well. She barely has time to react and think before her body moves on its own, she turns and starts running away with Pom ahead of her. 

Tears well in the corners of her eyes as she runs away from him, she doesn’t dare turn back to look at him, but she can feel him on her heels. He’s close. Gasping for air, all she needs is to make it out of this narrow alleyway and she’ll be amongst other throngs of people. No way he can catch her then. Just feet before she hits a main road, she entertains the idea of turning her head back for a second. 

And she regrets this. 

Instantaneously, her eyes are met with green irises staring back into hers, she’s been overtaken already. He has grabbed her and gently forces her against the wall of the alley, it’s quiet as both of them pant. She finally takes a good look at the officer, his bright green eyes, as lush and colorful as the new spring leaves of a dogwood, piercing into her gaze, with short orange hair underneath his cap. Air catches in her throat, her mind doesn’t want to admit it, but her heart already has by the way it skips. He’s extremely handsome, a little too handsome to be on the wrong side. 

His large hands hold onto both sides of her arms, almost squeezing her together as his tall body bends over her, looking down. He isn’t looking at her with hostility, in fact, something about his stare is dripping with affection just like the sweat on his temple. And as if the sudden sprints and attack on her heart from physical charms haven’t been enough, the words that come out of his mouth almost send her spiraling. 

“Mochi, why would you run from me?” He breathes heavily, speaking all too familiarly with her. 

Her pink eyes go wide, her eyebrows rising in surprise and alert. He knows her name? Just how much information does the M34TH have on her already? Instantly, she goes into panic mode, terrified of the man before, no matter how gorgeous he is. Now she really wishes she had her broom. She turns her head slightly to the side, to see Pom looking at her cautiously. 

“Moch? Are you going to answer me?” The officer asks again, this time almost frantic undertones in his voice. 

The cat witch thinks carefully for a moment, about whether or not to answer him. Right now, she’s looking at him as if he has three heads, and is curious if a tail is about to sprout from his rear end in a moment from the way he’s addressing her so intimately. Her lips press into a thin line and air exhales from her nose. In a swift motion, she shakes his grip off her and he fumbles a little back. Huh, she thinks, he’s not that strong after all. 

Which is false. Truly, the officer hadn’t been holding her down against her will, or very tightly at all; it’s his last intention to harm her — unbeknownst to the witch, of course. He now stands a step or two from Mochi, his face contorted in frustration. 

“Are you joking around with me right now? Come on Moch, it’s me, Lime,” he says, the curve of his mouth turning downward. Something about his sudden burst of despondency feels genuine and tugs at her heart. 

“I-I don’t know anyone named Lime,” she finally answers him, turning her face towards the ground and stepping further away from him. 

With her moving away from him, he steps towards her, a hand reaching for hers, which she reflexively pulls away. “Mochi, we grew up together, we went to school together, we’re best friends, we… love each other,” Lime pleads with her, his words spilling out of his mouth like he’s trying to conjure up his own spell. 

“I’m sorry, I think you must have me mistaken for another Mochi,” the brunette asserts, her shoe dragging backwards, attempting to further the distance between them some more. 

“There’s no way you forgot me,” he turns his head up, regaining confidence and talking himself through it. “Yeah, some weird thing happened again, I don’t know how but I just woke up on the outskirts of town, and now that I’ve finally found you, I’m sure you must’ve just messed around with some magic a little too much and you’ve forgotten me somehow.” 

Forgot. 

Hearing his voice say the word ‘forgot’ is like lightning striking. For a second, she looks at him, clear as day. Her? Forget this man? Strange, her eyes observe him from the foot to the top of his head, but nothing about his visage sparks a memory. Strange, she continues to think, as his voice, his presence, something about him feels like a memory. Like she really has known him her whole life, and she could be forgetting—

“Don’t let him trick you, cat witch,” Pom breaks into her thoughts, sensing her student letting her walls down around this officer. “He may be beguiling you with some M34TH gadget we cannot see!” 

Immediately Mochi puts her guard back up, hesitantly furrowing her eyebrows back at him. Pom isn’t wrong, that could totally be the case; but something inside her just wants to believe him. 

“Oh, for the love of—!” he groans to himself. “Pom, I know you don’t like me, but you know I would never hurt Mochi!” 

Pom circles around him, her tail wiggling as she sizes him up and her snout crinkling at his scent. After a solid moment, she returns to Mochi’s feet, standing in between them. “I do not know any M34TH officers acquainted with my student, but you are quite a strange human… You smell different.” 

“Different, Pom?” Mochi asks, crouching down to her. The black cat nods her head, and then scratches the back of her ear with her hind leg. 

“Yes, almost like he is not from here.” 

Lime sighs in exasperation, his shoulders weeping. “I grew up here, I know this place like the back of my hand, just like the way I know you, Mochi.” 

For some reason, his assertion picks at her, and she finds herself frustrated, standing up to face him at eye level. “And just what does someone like you know about me? I would have never tangled myself up with the likes of the M34TH!” 

“I know you struggled with school, you hated it because it was hard to balance with becoming a witch at sixteen, I know where you live because I lived across the street from you, I know you lost your powers at one point in high school due to your nasty aunt, I know you overthink things and worry too much, I know you’ll only drink coffee with a shit ton of sugar in it, just like I know a million other little things about you,” he says in one breath, panting and smirking like he’s just proved a point. 

However, it has the opposite effect. Mochi begins recoiling, hugging herself and evidently creeped out by the amount of information this man has on her. But at the same time, he continues to speak about her and to her as if they really have known each other all this time… what if, just maybe…? 

“Compose yourselves,” Pom speaks, raising a paw. “I wasn’t done talking. I did not mean you were not from this town, but rather, this world. It could be very likely you belong to another dimension, and some forces of magic have to do with it—” 

“That’s not possible,” Lime cuts in. “I have incredibly high magic resistance, the highest in the regiment. You would need to be ridiculously powerful to have an effect on me.” 

Pom then looks at Mochi, who turns her head down. “If what you say is true, then look no further. The witch right here is more than capable of sending you back to your original world. Although I find it hard to believe my student in another realm would befriend the likes of you.” 

The cat witch stands there, looking at Pom, and then the officer. It truly sounds as if Pom also believes he isn’t from here, and the way he speaks really makes it sound as if they were friends. Another thought strikes her. Didn’t he previously say ‘love’? He and this other Mochi were lovers?! Heat rushes to her face, daring to entertain the idea. In her 21 years of life, she has never fallen in love with anyone. And this man, no less an officer from the M34TH, is apparently her beloved in another realm?

“Well, no use in trying to think about it more,” Pom continues talking. “Cat witch, take out your notebook and pen, we should write down the direct coordinates where he fell into the plane of existence. You — do you remember exactly where you awoke?” 

Mochi allows a strap from her bag to fall off her shoulder, scrambling to grab her book and pen. She shuffles over to Lime, her hands moving all about to open the book to a blank page, where she suddenly grasps onto her pen a little too tight and presses the tip into the paper a little too deeply, breaking the pen and squirting ink. 

All over Lime. 

The tall officer in white abruptly jumps, looking down at himself in disarray. A brief “oh no,” releases from Mochi’s lips as she gawks at his mess of an outfit. Pom looks away and shakes her head at the scene. And that is how the odd trio ended up returning to Mochi’s home, to allow him to clean up himself. It’s fine, the witch thinks to herself as she places her bag back onto the couch, the delivery isn’t anticipated until later in the afternoon at the latest, and this gives her and Pom some time to write up a game plan. 

A very, very strange quest has unfolded right before her, and she feels a responsibility to this ‘Lime’ knowing that another Mochi once dearly loved him. If it is true that another her loved him, she trusts herself… kind of. She tilts her head, her thoughts stopping her in her tracks. Such an odd conversation she continues to ponder, imagining another universe out there with another her. And somehow, she fell in love with an officer from the M34TH. As she works through this conceptual situation in her mind, she hands a towel to Lime, asking him to leave his top outside the door while he showers. 

There’s a quick potion she has handy in a cabinet that will take the stains right out and fix his clothes right up. After she removes the stains, she notices it is noon and feels a grumble in her stomach. So she heads to the kitchen to whip up lunch. She silently goes into her zone as she chops an onion on the cutting board, not realizing that Lime has finished up and… exited the bathroom shirtless. 

He stands there, his arm reaching for the top of the doorway, his temple touching the wood as he smirks in Mochi’s direction with beads of water trailing down his body. “Hmmm,” he hums, catching her attention. 

When her pink eyes notice him, pecs and all, her face immediately blushes a crimson hue, having never eyed a man’s body so closely and intimately before. She does not say anything as he stalks towards her, his shirt dragging in one of his hands. Mochi turns back to the cutting board on the counter, reciting in her head ‘focus Mochi, focus,’ as she chops up the onion. This, she instantly regrets, as Lime comes up from behind her, placing a hand beside hers on the counter. 

“Oooh, food — smells good like always,” he says gently to her, his breath hot in her ear. She carries on with the knife, trying with everything in her body to not cut herself in a fluster. 

“I-If you don’t mind,” she finally retorts. “Could you please back away? I’m trying to prepare lunch.” 

She hears a husky chuckle release from Lime’s mouth, where he responds instantly. “How about no? How about Mochi harassment hour!” 

At which he grabs at the choker on her neck, that he knows is sensitive, and laughs wholeheartedly. However, this does not amuse Mochi, who instead feels somewhat violated by this stranger, but at the same time self-conscious regarding all the insinuations. So, she pushes him away in a huff. 

“I don’t know anything called Mochi harassment hour! I’m not your Mochi, do you understand? So please just put a shirt on, and we can eat lunch and I can gather what I need to send you back!” She exclaims in one breath, her shoulders bobbing up and down in agitation. 

In the next moment, she realizes what she has done. That isn’t like her at all. Her eyebrows immediately release in remorse, her opalescent eyes turning to the side. Quietly, she turns back around, returning to the task she has at hand. Lime, on the other hand, is equally frustrated and dejected. But, what he has to say surprises her. 

“In the event you’re unable to send me back, I swear I’ll make you fall in love with me again, Moch,” he states, his voice low and serious. 

A second passes, and she hears him silently slip out of the home and out the door. She assumes he’s going out for some air, he seems like the type to need that after a confrontation like that. After she hears the door close all the way, she drops the knife from her hand and covers her cheeks with her palms. What on earth was that? She thinks to herself, her face burning a bright red, her heart pounding at the proximity they shared. No man has ever touched her neck before, no man has ever been so close to her skin before… 

Make her fall in love with him… again?! And he sounds so confident, it’s almost disgustingly… charming. He’s so charming, and something about his presence does something to her. She cannot explain it, but she is naturally drawn to him, wanting to stick around him. And she just met him this morning. Yet, everything inside her is betraying her heritage as a witch. She’s been stuck on this question: how on earth did other Mochi fall in love with an officer from the M34TH? 

She clenches a fist in front of the stove, finally understanding how. Because it seems, even in other dimensions, they are inexplicably drawn to one another. 

In all her life, no one has ever inspired such feelings in her. And all of a sudden, her self-proclaimed lover from another world has spun her out of her wits. She now also begins to doubt herself again, what if she isn’t able to send him back? What if she isn’t as strong as she and Pom think she is, and he really is too resistant to magic? What if, in the most ridiculous possible thought to entertain, she is okay with him being stuck here? 

Minutes pass as she sets the table with dinnerware and Lime serendipitously returns into the home, sitting at the table as if he’s done it a million times before. They eat their meal in silence, until the very end, where Lime breaks the quietude by acting normal and teasing her, as if nothing happened 20 minutes ago.  After lunch, Pom and Mochi re-set out for the delivery, their party of two now a party of an unexpected three. 

They make their way through town without hazard, and as they trek closer and closer to their destination, Lime complains like a child dragging his feet. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, I’m sure there’s some spell that will reverse everything and you’ll remember me again,” he says, waving an arm up in the air. 

“That’s kind of hard to do, if you never existed in the first place,” Pom answers, to which Lime narrows his eyes indignantly. 

“I’m sure if I were to remember you, I probably would have by now,” Mochi mumbles to herself, thinking a little deeper about the situation. Truly, could she have ever forgotten someone like him if they really had met in this world? She thinks not. 

“Besides,” Mochi brightens up her voice, smiling at Lime. “The person we’re delivering to will be able to give us some good advice! They’re quite knowledgeable about the magic world.” 

An eyebrow of Lime’s raises in curiosity as they walk deeper into the streets, coming to a part of town that is eerily familiar to him. Immediately, they overhear an older woman admonishing someone, a whizzing sound through the air as her long, oaken staff comes into view while she swings it. 

“No, no, not like that you heathen!” The small, short, yet absurdly agile, old woman chastises her apprentice, who shrugs his shoulders with a care-free grin. 

The young M34TH officer’s expression immediately perks up on sight of the apprentice, rushing over to him with a smile. This startles Mochi and Pom, who stand idly by to watch the moment unfold. 

“Well what do you know, it’s Oscar!” Lime rushes over to him, ready to put an arm around him for a noogie. Just like earlier when he reached for Mochi’s hand, Oscar reflexively moves away, unsettled by a M34TH officer suddenly acting like he knows him. As Oscar moves away, his cape swishes to the side, revealing both of his arms. “Woah, you’ve still got both your arms, too!” 

“What — What the heck Mochi, who the hell is this guy?” Oscar asks nonplussed, his hands grabbing onto their opposing arms and holding them against his body. As if reliving this morning, but replacing Mochi with Oscar, the brunette steps further away from Lime, eyeing him in suspicion. 

“H-Hold up there, Oscar,” Mochi steps in, putting herself between them. “This is… Lime. Pom thinks he’s from another universe, one where he and I grew up together, and I guess, apparently you too by the way he’s talking to you.” 

For a minute, Oscar looks Lime up and down and then brings his gaze back to Mochi, his head tilting to the side in disbelief. “Are you sure?” the brunette muses, his voice slightly lower in volume as he speaks to the cat witch. 

“Oh, he’s certainly not your average, crusty, old officer! That’s guaranteed,” the elderly woman cuts in, waving her staff. “Quite a strange thing happened to you, huh?” 

She stops herself in front of Lime, her circular glasses flashing as she looks up at him from the height of his knees. Her staff stands right next to her, its golden bauble dangling from the top which Lime can see his own reflection. 

“You’re tellin’ me, lady,” Lime agrees with her, his expression blank and his lips pressed into a line. 

“You can tell, too, Madam Springs?” Mochi asks her, a little relief resounding in her tone. 

Madam Springs then turns to Mochi, looking up at her face in consternation. “You can sniff him out already? My, the power of the cat is utterly terrifying all right.” 

“Oh no, Pom was the one who noticed it! I had no clue at all,” she renounces the woman’s statement, shaking her head. 

“Ah, I see,” Madam Springs replies, growing quiet. “Well! Good luck with that.” 

And she starts waddling away. 

“W-Wait! Madam Springs, I was hoping to ask for your expertise on the matter!” Mochi moves to stand in front of her, her expressions pleading with the woman. “And besides, we have your order! Don’t you need this?” 

With that, Mochi pulls a small parcel from her bag, handing it over to Madam Springs. The short lady glances at it, takes it from her hand, and then throws it over her shoulder in Oscar’s direction. Oscar, acting as if this is nothing new, immediately rushes forward to catch the package in time. 

“Expertise? What would I know about some kid who jumped through dimensions or whatever?” Her oaken staff waves in the air again, trying to pass off the witch. 

“I mean, you have lived a long time, there’s gotta be something you know,” Oscar slips in, shrugging his shoulders. 

Her head instantaneously whips around, glaring at him. “Why you—!” 

And while the old woman swings her stick with all her might in Oscar’s direction, with Mochi attempting to deescalate the situation, Lime stands off to the side, watching. As if he’s not even present, everyone argues about him, his circumstances, and all he can feel is… loneliness. It’s as if Mochi has disappeared all over again — although she’s right in front of him — and he can’t contribute anything to help. 

His gloved hand grips at the fabric forming a fist, a squeak sounding from the material rubbing so hard. But it’s like a drop in the ocean, again, with no one to notice. Not even Mochi. He senses himself growing frustrated, because being helpless is the last thing he ever wants to feel. This world isn’t his? These people in front of him aren’t his? No one remembers or knows him? He never thought he would see the day when Lime Goldwood became… irrelevant and unknown. And that’s not to say with an arrogant air — it’s just that he’s always been… someone. 

And now he is no one. 

His green eyes flash over the cat witch again. What if he’s unable to go back? He would have to start all over again with Mochi. How could he make her love him again? Make her? No, he shakes his head in disgust of himself. Mochi isn’t someone to be won or made to do something. She comes to her own decisions, has her own preferences, is her own person — that’s the reason why he fell for her in the first place. 

While he’s thinking to himself, the rest have calmed down and begun discussing the situation at hand. Madam Springs contemplates on the problem aloud, humming to herself intently. 

“I’ll say you have your work cut out for you,” the woman says to Mochi. “He’s a tough one, a black canvas. You’ll be needing a lot of stamina to send him back.” 

“But it is doable?” the witch asks. 

“Well sure, but like I said, lots of stamina.” 

Mochi looks at Lime, and then at Pom. But Pom stares back, her expression unnerving and straight. Mochi knows exactly what that means, and it means Pom’s leaving the decision up to her. She makes the choice about sending Lime back, and that’s if she can. He’s a black canvas, she’s never tried magic on someone like that before. 

Her eyes return to Lime, who’s gazing back somberly. She doesn’t know why, but she senses a great deal of uncertainty in him; and she doesn’t blame him one bit. The idea has been hard for her to grasp — well, not so much really, since she is a witch — but more difficult to come to terms with this man being someone she loves in another timeline. If she herself had been thrown through a dimension, into a world just like the one she grew up in, only to find no one she cares for remembers her, much less the person she’s in love with, well… 

Safe to say, she breaks her own heart thinking about it. 

And she admires him for a long second, because he has the mind and strength to deal with it far more confidently than her. In the soft silence, with murmurs of passersbys and distant car noises, she nods at both Pom and Lime. It’s the right thing to send him back; it’s her duty as the cat witch to restore balance. 

They say their farewells to Oscar and Madam Springs — who wish them good luck on their endeavors to send Lime back — and tread their way back to her home. As they walk back, Pom advises Mochi to rest for the night, so that tomorrow morning her strength will be optimal to cast the spell. Approaching the house, dusk has already begun to scatter across the sky in hues of lilacs and roses from the setting sun. It has been a long day, indeed. 

Mochi’s heart feels worn out, as she watches Pom head inside. Lime lingers behind her, he’s been eerily quiet the entire route home, and she’s not too sure if it’s because he’s hungry or what. Perhaps she should start dinner soon—

“Moch,” he starts earnestly, breaking into her thoughts. “Will you be okay tomorrow? I don’t… I don’t want you to send me back, if you’re at risk for being hurt.” 

His concern startles her, and then she eases into it quickly, as she done with all the feelings he’s flung at her today, as if they’ve been doing it for years. Of course he’s worried about the person he most fervently loves. 

And that’s her. 

But not her at the same time. She has to remind herself. 

Gently, she shakes her head, her hair bouncing in the movement and a small smile of reassurance across her lips. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I couldn’t do it, besides you—” she stops herself for a moment, unsure if she should finish. She’s not trying to hurt feelings, whether or not they’re his or hers; at this point she doesn’t know whose she's hurting. “You don’t belong here, Lime. This isn’t the world you were born in, this isn’t your world.” 

“Any world with you in it is my world,” he replies, steadfast and sincere. 

She feels a hiccup in her heart, a flutter in her chest, an unspeakable response to the waxing poetic he spouts at her like it’s nothing. She’s left speechless as the sun finally rolls down, leaving them in the glimmer of the streetlamp overhead. A faint gust brushes by their ankles, her face beating red, his green eyes unwavering. 

“No matter the time, dimension, world, or realm—”

He steps closer, the streetlight shining over his face. There’s something in the air, some kind of chill, making the hair on the back of her neck stand. And it’s like there’s a hand over her heart, gripping it intensely, deftly, as he confesses to her how much he loves her. 

“I’ve always been yours, Moch.” 

Goosebumps fleck across her body. Her heart beats rapidly and her cheeks burn. Summer’s supposed to end this month, the heat’s to blame. It’s confusing her, how it’s cold in the morning and hot in the afternoons. It’s not… him. It’s not. To do right by her role, to do right by her birth, she must send him back. 

“I have to do it,” she breathes out, her eyes growing red. 

His gaze softens on her, stepping closer and bending down. His fingers gingerly and tenderly tilt her chin up at him, and he does exactly what she has feared the most to experience. 

They kiss. 

It’s affectionate, delicate, and bittersweet. It's warm and impossible to take in. It's rough but kind. It's slow, but not slow enough. It’s everything she’s wished for and wanted, yet not at the same time. He slowly pulls away, giving her a loving and emotional smile. 

“I know,” is all he says in a low cadence. He walks inside the home, leaving her at the front of the house. Night has fully fallen by now, and she is alone with the stars and space. He’s shaken her resolve, he’s shaken her whole world. Her eyes flicker up to the sky, asking the universe for an answer she knows she won’t receive. 

Tonight is a full moon. The perfect night for a witch to rest. 

Somehow, Mochi is able to lull herself to sleep that evening. Perhaps it is the heavy weight of responsibility on her shoulders, or the slim chance she messes up the spell; but she knows how paramount it is for her to receive her rest. It is a still night. 

When dawn breaks, she awakes with a serious expression, looking out her window at the pale orange sky and seeing the sun in the horizon. It is time. She leaves her bed and readies herself for the day, meeting Pom and Lime at the bottom of the stairs. He’s quiet, Pom’s quiet. They head down to the basement to prepare for the spell. Since it’s a type of transportive spell, she needs to draw a circle with Lime standing in the middle. She uses her white chalk sparingly, the scratch noises screeching as she etches into the ground. 

After writing the last sigil, she wipes her nose with the back of her hand and stands back to read her work. She has to make sure all the proper markings are there. Afterwards, she takes a deep breath. Mochi turns to Lime. 

“It’s ready, can you stand in the middle?” she asks him, almost hesitantly. 

He nods his head and struts over to the middle of the circle. She initiates muttering the incantations, and suddenly gales begin to rise and twist around them; the sigils on the ground start to glow and shine brighter as she continues speaking. Mochi can feel the magic begin to drain from her body — it’s not something so simple as time travel — time travel is against the witches’ laws. This spell is about sending someone to another dimension. Something almost unfathomable to Mochi. This is an entirely too powerful spell to cast. 

But she has to. For both of their sakes. 

Lime can see the distress surfacing in her face; his brows knit in worry and his lips are pressed into a line in heartache. He clenches his fist, he holds down his tongue until he can’t anymore. 

“Mochi, please, remember, you don’t have to do this if it hurts you,” he entreats her, a pained smile across his mouth. He’s trying to reassure her, it simply doesn’t matter to him. They could be apart in universes, galaxies, dimensions — but he would always find her. Even if she didn’t remember him. And Mochi realizes this. And his words cut like a knife on her heart, because more than anything, she’s come to terms with their undeniable connection. 

She almost takes everything back in that very instant; but in a swift second she knows. She knows it’s time. He’s not her Lime, and she’s not his Mochi. She smiles to herself with her eyelids welling up, the winds and forces sweeping up around her and Lime — almost becoming a violent tornado with the two of them at the center — his green iridescent eyes staring back into her fiery pink gaze. That’s a lie. No matter where, no matter when, just as he said last night, he’d always be hers and she would always be his. 

For once, she’s jealous of herself. 

“Goodbye, Lime.” 

It all fades to black. 

…

…

…

The bell rings. Her long, brown hair bounces as her body turns around from behind the counter. She smiles as she sees him standing in the doorframe, an all too commonplace smirk spread across his mouth. 

“Come on, Moch,” he tilts his head with a husky plea. “It’s almost dinnertime and I’m starving.” 

“All right, all right, let me grab my things,” she answers, quickly grabbing her bag and Pom following at her heels. As she heads to meet him at the door, she turns around, looking about the store. A moment passes, she breathes out. 

“What’s up?” Lime asks, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. 

She turns back to him, her cheeks tint rose-colored. “Nothing,” she starts, heading out the door and naturally taking the tall officer’s hand into hers. “There’s nothing wrong at all.” 

Everything is just right, as it should be. 

[munsonsreputation]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [2.4k]

warnings: no use of y/n, pure fluff!!!!, crush confessions, pining (not too much discussed), cursing, and mentions of smoking. all credits for taylor swift for writing such an amazing song <3

summary: you and eddie are two very different people...or so it seems so for everyone else. but only you and eddie really know the love you two share, even if it's out of the ordinary. so as you look through the crowd while you're being crowded homecoming queen, it's nice to see the love of your life waiting there...after all, it's been a long time coming.

You’d rather be anywhere but here at this very moment. The distinct sound of the student body talking and cheering amongst themselves at tonight’s annual homecoming game. The marching band playing their instruments while the cheerleaders performed their halftime routine on the outer track field, red dirt flying through the air with every foot stomp. Then suddenly the whistle blew, and the speakers sounded.

They would announce homecoming court .

And here you were, heels sinking into the football turf as the floodlights beamed brightly across the field. Your arms linked with Jason Carvers’, who was crowned homecoming king this year, having won homecoming prince in his freshman year of high school.

On paper, you and Jason would’ve been the perfect couple. He was the star of the Hawkins basketball team, a part of the winning squad that took home this year’s national Indiana High School Basketball league trophy. You were the “good girl,” keeping up your grades, highly involved in extracurricular activities and even becoming vice president of your class year.

But you didn’t like perfect on paper.

You preferred surprisingly simple yet complex to the eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Jason whispered, turning his head to stare at your side profile.

You darted over at him, not bothering to hide your revulsion as you rolled your eyes begrudgingly.

“You shouldn’t be complimenting me when your girlfriend is sitting on the stands…and need I remind you I have a boyfriend?”

Nodding your chin up to the bleachers, you saw Chrissy, pom-poms resting in her lap as she wistfully watched on, the love of her life Jason cozying up in the cold summers’ breeze next to a girl who was clearly disinterested in him.

He scoffed lightly, “She’s not the one standing up here tonight, is she? And if I stand correctly, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.”

God, he was disgusting, but right about one thing.

Eddie wasn’t here.

He hated big school events like this one. Thought they were totally useless and took away the spotlight from things that mattered like arts, which you definitely agreed with. But you’d hope that since his girlfriend won homecoming court, he’d actually show up, but he didn’t.

“Just keep your hands and comments to yourself, alright?” You snarled through your smiling teeth as you watched some people from the yearbook club approach you with cameras in hand.

A voice from the student body now echoed through the speakers, firstly introducing the underclassmen homecoming court who stepped up. Waving to the crowd of students sat on the bleaches, cheering as they whistled and blew their hand held horns in the air.

You honestly didn’t know how you even won in the first place. It all started as a joke, your friends daring you to run for queen and you’d thought that someone had rigged the voting when the results came in. You had miraculously swept the entire thing.

But you were sure your metal head and his friend Robin in student union had something to do with it. Though you weren’t complaining…school tricks were fun in this case.

“Now please welcome the senior homecoming king and queen!”

You stepped up, right hand coming to wave to the same crowd spotting a few of your friends cheering you on, but you could never miss Eddie, even if he was feet away, watching from the fences with a cigarette hanging from his lips as his hands clapped for you.

“Son of a bitch.” You muttered to yourself with a smitten smile, watching as he winked towards you, knowing he had been caught.

You paid Jason no mind, simply bowing down a bit to allow the poorly made plastic crown, bejeweled with dollar general gemstones, to be rested on your head as one of the volunteers did the same for the jock.

“Congratulations to this year's homecoming court! Please feel free to share a kiss or not with the—”

As Jason was trying to be some sort of fucking comedian, bending down to try to kiss you, you scoffed, dropping his arm and instead, picking up the length of your dress, jogging through the rough ground towards Eddie.

“Hey! Where the hell are you going!” You could hear the whiny voice of Jason’s faltering behind you as all you could do was giggle, getting closer to Eddie, where he hollered loudly.

His arms were held out, immediately hugging you despite the fence that sandwiches the bottom half of your bodies, “There’s my girl,” he whispered against your hair until he pulled away.

You smirked, lightly pushing at his shoulder with a closed fist, “I thought homecoming was for losers?”

He failed to hold back his cheeky smile. “Yeah, but you’re my favorite loser, so I just had to come.” Eddie responded shrewdly as you rolled your eyes, undoing your fists and wrapping them around his back.

“Oh, you’re so clever, aren’t you?” You imitated with an offended tone but couldn’t help the smile continually seeping into your face.

He nodded, giving you a small peck that made up for his half absence.

Neither of you could feel the eyes of everyone staring, but they were. Practically watching every movement between the odd couple, as they shared another sweet kiss and watched the freak hoist his girl up and over the fence. Giggling at how her dress caught onto one of the metal rings, causing it to rip, but paying no real concern as they left the fabric there, blowing against the breeze as they ran off hand in hand into the night sky.

All the while, the king complained in the middle of the football field.

“Where are we off to, my knight in shining leather?” You pestered, kicking your feet up on his dash as he smirked, starting up the engine, keeping his brown orbs on you.

“I was thinking I take you to my castle, we smoke a joint, and I show you how much I adore you.”

Your eyes rolled, but your cheeks couldn’t hide the heat of a red blush and your pearly whites flashing him that smile he loved to see every day.

“You know I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen.”

He whistled lowly, sending you a wink, “Oh, how could I forget? You had a big fat crush on me back in sophomore year and I practically had to beg you to tell me—”

“Stop!” you yelped it out, trying to forget about your pathetic confession that ultimately led to the start of your and Eddie’s romance.

“Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart. It was romantic!”

“Stupid Stacy Burke! Does she really think she’s going to win against me?!”

You had thought you were alone in the computer room, using the device to work on your campaign posters so you could hang them up around school tomorrow. You were desperate to win in order to keep your seat as Vice President. Last year it was an easy win for you, but now all of a sudden the dumb Stacy Burke wanted to take your seat just for notoriety.

It made you fume.

“If she thinks she can just buy her votes with cupcakes and muffins, she has got another thing coming!”

You were seething as you pressed print, pushing yourself out of the seat and heading over to the printers in order to get your posters and head back home for the day to prepare for your speech when

“Ohmygod!”

Your scream took Eddie aback, causing him to jump back, holding out his hands as you clasped yours over your heart and mouth.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell are you doing in here!” you ordered loudly, watching as Eddie held something up.

Posters. Specifically for Hellfire.

“I was making recruitment posters for Hellfire.” He shook them, watching as you rose your brow and tilted your head to get a better look at the words printed.

“Hellfire? Never heard of it.”

He sighed, rolling them back up. “It’s new. Finally, got enough members to have an official club.”

“Cool,” you sighed, nodding your head calmly as you attempted to push past him, yet he held his arm out, stopping you.

“Eddie, let me through.” You spoke, moving his arm.

He sighed, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a piece of crumpled paper that he held out. “Stacy really wants your spot, huh?”

Your brows creased together, deliberately taking it from him and unfolding the sheet. And that’s when your blood really started bubbling. Her senseless campaign posters were basically a jab towards you, with a photo of her smiling and a poorly drawn stick figure of you, accentuated with,

“Don’t put a nerd into council! Vote Stacy Burke for Vice President for a tubular Sophomore Year.”

Crumpling the paper once again, you forced past Eddie, going towards the door to tear down all her stupid posters before anyone else could see them, but the metal head called back out to you before you could make it out of the room.

“I already took them all down.” He declared, making you stop in your path, turning back around to see him pointing at the rubbish can right beside you.

There they were, a pile of the crumpled up posters in the bin. There had to be about fifty wads of them in there.

“T-thanks.” You peered back at him as he bowed nonchalantly, the silence being too much to bear in this small room.

You cursed to yourself, crossing your arms across your chest as you stared sharply, “Why did you do that for me?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do?” He snickered obviously, scratching the back of his neck while you didn’t look too convinced.

Eddie was…different than most.

He wasn’t necessarily a loser. Yet he wasn’t a part of the cool clique.

He was just him.

Something that intrigued you since you heard his name and memorized his face. A sort of intrigue which had slowly snowballed itself into an innocent crush. One that had you stealing glances at him in the cafeteria and peering past your lockers to see him saunter through the hallways.

“Well, I appreciate it.” You nodded, giving him a lipped smile, rocking on your soles, focusing your sights on the floor instead of him.

His chuck covered feet slowly entered your view, the heartbeat in your chest beating faster by the minute that it should’ve been a crime.

“I see the way you look at me.” He admitted, nibbling back a smirk, knowing it would only make you embarrassed, and he didn’t want to make you feel that way.

Somehow you caught Eddie’s eyes too.

You were similar in that sense that you weren’t in the cool circle, yet still not a loser that supposedly Stacy Burke thought you were. He knew that people loved to send glares and eye rolls his way, so he got used to the looks.

But yours were different.

He knew it the first time he caught you staring at him during lunch. Eyes soft like pearls with your lip caught between your teeth as you…appreciated the sight before you.

He hated the glares, but he loved the way you looked at him.

“T-the what?”

You tried to seem puzzled, to act as if you didn’t scurry your eyes back to your sad lunch tray once he caught your eyes on him on that random Friday.

“It’s cool,” Eddie assured you, with a grin on his face, like an actual sincere smile that wasn’t to be perceived as cocky. “It’s nice being looked at…by you.”

That made you blush. Immediately giving you away.

“Cool.” You muttered, gawking up at him through your lashes, pulling your hair forward to attempt to crowd your reddening cheeks.

Eddie let out a relaxed huff of breath. “You’re not going to ask if I have a crush on you too?”

“What!” You said it a little too vociferously as he chortled. “I know you like me…it isn’t a bad thing if you do.”

You folded your arms across your chest once more, a little defensive, “Well I didn’t say that…do you like me?”

He shrugged his shoulders, now a smirk plastered on his face, “You tell me if you like me first, then I’ll let you know.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to embarrass me?” You raised your brows skeptically, and he grinned shrugging his shoulders once more as he stepped closer to you if it was even possible.

“I don’t gain anything from embarrassing you…and I wouldn’t do that, anyway.” He answered, stopping just inches away from you as you met his eyes that looked down at yours.

You took a deep breath, letting the air leave your mouth as you confessed, “I like you.”

He smiled, a blush covering his cheeks now that he didn’t care to hide as he nodded his head and looked behind him out the door, then back to you.

“I like you too…soooo what do you say we hang our posters together, then we can get some ice cream at Scoops and brainstorm how to destroy Stacy Burke’s campaign?”

You couldn’t hide the smile, nor did you try to as you nodded, dashing over to the printer to grab your freshly made posters before trading yours with Eddie’s.

He graciously took them, commending your attention to detail and the photo of your smack dab in the center of the poster. You reached for the roll of tape before jutting your chin out the door.

“C’mon dungeon master, you owe me chocolate cone with extra sprinkles.” You hailed out, already down the hallway as Eddie trailed behind you with a whistle.

“Coming right up, sweets.”

From that day forward, it was you and Eddie against the town of Hawkins, Indiana. The two of you not caring if you were scrutinized or called a crazy for dating the town freak or him being accused of corrupting the vice president of the class.

You and Eddie didn’t play their stupid games.

If anything, you two lived in your own little world. Enjoying the peace on your side while the bad guys always tried to let themselves into the gates that you and Eddie kept locked up just for the two of you to ever know.

If there was one thing that this sad town had right about you and Eddie, it was that you two would runaway together, leaving behind everyone and everything that had ever done you wrong.

So sure, maybe you were the bad bad girl and maybe he was the whispers in the hallways, but it had been a long time coming.

It was just you and him lost in the light.

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince.

A/N: Finally I finished up this song fic!!! It's short and sweet and I hope you guys like it (it's not my proudest work but i did my best). I have so many more song fics in the works and i can't wait for you all to read them when they're finally ready. In the mean time, reblogs and comments would be greatly appreciated and be sure to slide into my asks with your february bash requests!!! 👑💘💫✨

[descendinginto-madness]

every flame will burn out some day.

cw: major character death. descriptions of blood & (not very detailed) a dead body. descriptions of grief and unhealthy habits.

word count: 1654

a/n: uhh this is just 'himeko dies: the fanfic'. i wrote it like a week ago in two days and it sucked the writing juice out of me but i'm still kinda happy with how it came out? also posted it on ao3 here

Welt doesn't remember all the details.

He does remember the fire, though; beautiful, orange flames blooming in the night, burning so brightly, reaching up so high into the sky, so powerful that he could feel the heat on his face, engulfing every monster in its way and turning it into ash; and he does remember this fire disappearing much too soon and much too abruptly.

He remembers a scream cut short, blood splashing around and landing on his face, a body falling.

He remembers that, for a heartbeat, the world stopped.

He remembers rushing towards her; holding desperately onto some little shards of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would still be able to save her - and these shards being ground into dust the moment he kneeled down next to her.

He remembers trying to shield her body, cover it so that neither March 7th, nor Dan Heng, nor Stelle would have to see it; her pale face, and the deep crimson staining her white dress like grotesque flowers. But they were right behind him, and he was much too slow.

He doesn't remember their faces, he isn't sure if he even looked at them, but he can only assume they showed varying degrees of horror. 

He remembers March clinging onto him, sobbing into his shoulder, and himself wrapping his arms around her almost mechanically, his eyes glued to Himeko's face. 

She looked surprised.

Not scared.

Of course.

He doesn't remember a single time where she would show fear.

He remembers something growing inside him at that moment, too; a decision, crystallizing. Any thoughts about leaving the Astral Express he might've ever had lost any meaning at that moment - now, there was - is - no way he could just abandon them.

He still is almost painfully aware how much Dan Heng, March and Stelle need his guidance.

He doesn't remember how much time it took all of them to finally break out of the initial shock and move, he doesn't remember what ultimately made them do it, he doesn't even know how they got back on the train; he thinks he might've carried March all the way back, but he isn't sure. 

He can't quite recall Pom Pom’s reaction, he can only guess what it was, given they were the one who met Himeko first.

The first few days are a blur, too.

He feels like he's in a trance; like he's just watching  from the sidelines as his body does everything, a spectator in a grim play. He wakes up the day after and immediately gets to work, because he cannot stand the thought of simply lying there, he's afraid of just what may come across his mind. It's much better to keep working.

He doesn't want to give himself time, he can't give himself time, and he will insist he doesn't need to. 

There's so much to take care of around the Astral Express, after all.

It feels natural for him to take over Himeko's responsibilities as well, now. Or maybe he's just looking for ways and excuses to keep himself busy; a part of him certainly is. He attempts to contact her family, or friends, or anyone that might’ve been in any way close to her. He ought to inform them of what had happened. 

Aside from that, he doesn't remember much more. 

But he does check on the kids; obviously, they're not actually children anymore, but they're his children, and they need him more than ever before, and so he ensures they get up, eat, drink water, go to sleep at acceptable hours, and he regularly checks in during the day, asking if they need anything.

Sometimes they just need him to hold them.

To hug them tightly, making a silent promise that everything will be alright, even though all of them know it won't - not right now, and not any time soon.

Pom Pom does the same for him, reminding him to take care of himself, too, but he forgets to do anything the moment the door to his room closes behind them. 

Sometimes he feels like he's underwater, just ran out of air and can't breathe; his lungs are burning, begging him to take even one, small breath, but he can't - if he does, he's surely going to drown.

If he lets himself pay just a bit too much attention to certain thoughts, he's going to crumble, and he simply can't allow that, not when they need him so much - him, not the vulnerable part of him. They need Mr. Yang who's strong, and always knows what to do, and surely has a way for all of them to pick themselves up and piece themselves back together. For Dan Heng to speak again, because he hasn’t said a word since Himeko’s death. For March to go back to being so cheerful like she usually is. For Stelle to stop being so serious, with such an overwhelmingly dark aura around her.

He doesn't.

He won't admit it.

These first few days stretch into a week.

The scent of coffee coming from Himeko's room is much, much, much weaker now.

No one has entered this room since her death.

One morning Stelle knocks on his door.

He's used to working alone, but he lets her help him when she asks if there's anything she could do. Sure. There is quite a lot, actually, he'll find something for her no problem. It does feel tense at first; he’s so exhausted, he definitely hasn’t been taking proper care of himself, and he’s almost certain she will pick up on it even despite her own visible tiredness, but she doesn’t. Or, at the very least, she doesn’t mention it. She does talk about some other things, though, not too much, that’s for sure, but he’s never been more relieved to hear it.

He’s used to relaxing alone, too, but when one evening March asks him if he would like to watch a movie with the three of them, he agrees almost instantly. Her voice is still so quiet, almost unsure, and so unlike her, and obviously he can’t and didn’t even think about blaming her for it in any way, but it still breaks his heart a little-

 No, not that.

It only adds onto the pain piling up since the moment he saw Himeko’s body fall to the ground. 

But he follows March to her bedroom anyway, and as the four of them settle down, he lets her rest her head on his shoulder eventually. He lets Stelle do the same. He watches the movie - an animated one he isn't familiar with - trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of guilt growing in his heart.

It is his job to protect the crew; all of them, Himeko included, and he failed. If he was just a bit faster that day, nothing would've happened, all five of them would be watching this movie, and the atmosphere of this room wouldn't feel so heavy, this moment of peace wouldn't feel so fragile, like the smallest wrong move would be enough to shatter it into pieces.

His heart feels like something is repeatedly stabbing into it, again, and again, and again, and again-

He speaks up, eventually, and his voice is quiet, but he hopes it will be louder than his thoughts. 

He comments on the animation, he compliments the beautifully drawn backgrounds, he even brings up the time he himself worked as an animator.

When Dan Heng asks him a question, it feels like everyone in the room can finally breathe again, but his heart still feels so heavy.

The week extends into two, then three, nearly a month. 

The scent of coffee coming from her room is long gone, but he still catches himself surprised by the lack of it; he still catches himself expecting Himeko to leave her bedroom in the morning, to hear her talking to the kids or Pom Pom. When he sits in the parlor car, lost in thought, he's subconsciously waiting for Himeko to enter, with a teasing comment and a playful smile on her face.

The pain has become a little duller, but it remains, and he isn't sure if it will ever disappear. The guilt is persistent as ever, and although he doesn't quite feel like a machine quite as much anymore, he's exhausted.

Some days he feels like he's about to collapse, in every possible way.

The kids leave the Astral Express for a bit one day, finally; there's some shopping that needs to be done and they decide to go together. They ask him if he wants to accompany them, but he declines gently. No, he still has some work to do. Yes, he will be alright, they don't need to worry. No, he's not tired. Yes, he will remember to rest later. He feels bad that he made them feel like they should ask about all that.

The door to his room closes behind them, and he locks it with shaky hands.

He waits.

He waits until the sound of their quiet conversation disappears from the hallway.

His heartbeat is much too loud in his ears.

He wants to scream.

He's frustrated with himself because of that, because it's such a childish want, but he needs to scream until his voice gives up completely and he can't even talk anymore, until he's exhausted and empty, rid of everything he feels.

For now, though, he's struggling to breathe.

He leans against the door and forces himself to take in long, deep, painfully slow and shaky breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

His throat hurts, his eyes start to burn, his vision blurs when the tears finally start to overflow.

He feels so alone that it physically hurts.

He is going to be fine, though.

He has been strong for them. He has been the support they need.

He will continue to be once they return.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎﹕the straw-heart-kidd-alliance plays a game of b-ball

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔﹕implied kidd x killer, law x bepo, luffy x zoro

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒶∕𝓃﹕hello!! this was inspired by a mini-comic by @baby-xemnas (this one!) i hope you enjoy reading with these cuties!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝓌∕𝒸﹕0.9k

when luffy told zoro they’d be playing basketball against the worst generation, he thought he’d be able to, you know, play basketball. what luffy had neglected to inform him of, however, was that the game was strictly 1v1v1. 

“then why tell me at all!” the swordsman harshly exclaimed. the smirk on luffy’s face should have been his first clue to leave.

yet here he was, alongside killer and bepo, dressed in a skimpy cheer uniform with matching pom-poms. could anything be more humiliating?

“come on, pistachio,” killer called while stretching his powerful calves, “you’ve got nothing else to do, why not cheer?”

“he’s right!” bepo cheerfully added, adjusting and tightening the bows affixed to his ears.

all zoro did was scoff, remaining crouched on the floor and keeping a close eye on the game. kidd’s height aided him in dunking and his lack of an arm didn't seem to slow him down at all. ‘but that might just be his stupidity,’ zoro thought, watching the captain pick up the ball and run, hugging it close to his chest.

law’s height was convenient for the sport, but it was his devil fruit that shone through, easily teleporting the ball away from his opponents. one might call it unfair, but the other two captains were too into the game to call him out for such blatant cheating.

but in zoro’s eyes, luffy was definitely the best. his devil fruit made for an enjoyable game, able to swipe the ball away in a semi-fair way while also providing slight amusement for the swordsman. the grin on luffy’s face when dunking the ball (is it really a dunk if you stretch your legs to reach the basket?) was just unbeatable. but just because the game was amusing didn’t mean zoro was going to cheer.

the same couldn’t be said about the two other vice-captains.

“come on captain, you can do it, put a little power to it!” they cheered, shaking their asses and sashaying their skirts. “go... captain!”

zoro turned away from their show, the crisp noise of their pom-poms ringing in his ears. not that he could hear it very well to begin with, living with luffy will do that to you.

“hey!” a voice screamed from across the court. speak of the devil.

zoro could see luffy’s intensely red face, partly from embarrassment and partly from the intense sport. his brows furrowed angrily as he pointed an accusatory finger at zoro. 

“why aren’t you dancing too!” he pouted, teeth gritted in frustration. 

behind him the other two captain’s facepalmed, equally as embarrassed as luffy but for completely different reasons. 

“the hell…” law mumbled, rubbing his temple and looking away from the cheerleaders.

zoro couldn’t make out what kidd was saying, only catching every fifth word and just assuming that he was equally pissed at this embarrassing display of sexy camaraderie. or maybe it had to do with the alliance name? all zoro could make out was kidd's gnashing teeth.

but there was no way in hell zoro would put up with luffy’s ill-tempered attitude. not when his dignity was on the line.

“fuck off!” he yelled back, his veins popping out in anger. “you put on this damn skirt and tell me how willing you’d be!” 

despite zoro’s objections, luffy’s angry gaze didn’t falter. scarlet-tinted pupils stared right into his soul, commanding the swordsman to join in the cheering. zoro grumbled, stomping over to the thrilled vice captains and taking his place beside them. with limited enthusiasm, he joined in their cheers.

“let’s go captain; fight, fight, fight!” they called out, sharp teeth lining their excited smiles. zoro refused to look happy, keeping a stoic expression on his face as he performed the routine perfectly, mixing in the perfect ratio of muscle and curves as he pranced in his tight uniform.

upon completion, the three vice-captains stood triumphantly, pom-poms raised proudly in the air with one hand on their hips. their captains, however, could only cringe with embarrassment at their awe-inspiring talent. even their sexy bodies couldn’t persuade the captains to feel any modicum of pride (except for law, who was already making plans for tonight.) even luffy stood there silently, staring at the three vice captains before speaking up.

“this is actually pretty embarrassing,” he said point blankly, crossing his arms in realization.

“you think!?” the three shouted, shaking their fists angrily at the foolish captain. killer and bepo just giggled to each other, comparing muscles and nail polish as the other four argued amongst each other.

“you think luffy’ll win?” nami asked, legs lounged across the beach chair as she sunbathed beside the pool.

“i'm not too sure. In a game like basketball, someone like kidd could easily flatten him into tomato paste,” robin said cooly, face down on her lounge chair.

loud footsteps hammered on the deck as sanji came running towards the women.

“nami-saan! robin-chaaan!” he swooned, cracking his legs into a kneeling position, presenting the colorful drinks to the ladies.

nami took her drink between her fingers, sipping on it as she spoke.

“luffy’s devil fruit gives him the right advantage! there’s no way those half-rates could compete with that.”

“ah, but torao’s devil fruit easily counteracts both of them, not to mention his sword would easily enable him to cut down his opponents,” robin countered.

“it sounds to me like you think luffy can’t win!” nami fired back.

“perhaps you’re projecting?” the older woman teased.

“projecting!? alright sister, you’re on! me and you, in the pool, right now!” nami yelled, picking up a volleyball. “winner gets to be right, and 500,000 beri!”

robin chuckled, stretching her arms. 

“alright, miss navigator,” she chuckled, “you’re on.”