#i just know she reaches out and brushes back his hair everytime she noticed those tiny details

[aphemera]

the way i picture telemachus is having the same hair and eye color as penelope but the facial features and hair type of odysseus if that makes sense

[thebunnednun]

Toast 2.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Prohero!Ex! Reader

Years after you walked out of his life, Katsuki can't stand how his mind won't let you go after all this time.

And after your most recent phone call,

He doesn't think he ever will.

Part one right here.

Inspired by the song: Darling, I

Warning: Heavy angst, post break ups, crying Katsuki, meeting ex's (you).

Wc; 16k I think, I hit the limit so multi parts it is.

“You did WHAT?!” 

Kirishima’s voice echoed through Katsuki’s office like a thunderclap, eyes wide and disbelieving as he stared at his friend.

“Shut it, Shitty Hair!” Katsuki barked, slamming a gauntlet down on the desk with a clang.

But it was too late. Kirishima was already pacing, running his hands through his spiky hair, muttering to himself like he was trying to process the madness.

“You deleted the message?!” he exclaimed, spinning around to face Katsuki. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

Katsuki growled, clenching the edge of the desk like it was the only thing keeping him from combusting.

–

Katsuki hadn’t slept.

He’d spent the night staring at his phone, the glow of the screen burning his retinas as the message to you remained unsent. Something about the damn Wi-Fi, probably, but it didn’t matter. By the time he noticed, the moment was gone. He stared at the unsent message—at those words he’d spent too long overthinking—before gritting his teeth and hitting delete.

“Tch. Waste of time,” he muttered to himself, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

He wasn’t going to bother you with his feelings now that he knew about your grandma. 

The apartment was still and quiet, except for the hum of the freezer. Katsuki found himself standing there, bare feet cold against the floor, staring at its contents. Frozen meals, bottles of water, and the random junk his crew had dumped there over the years. Half a bottle of soy sauce, a freezer-burned loaf of bread, and—he scowled—a frozen action figure Kaminari had shoved in there “for science.”

His fingers dug into the back of the freezer, brushing against a cold plastic binder. He yanked it out, his breath visible in the chilly air as he stared at the thing that had been sitting there for years.

Your grandmother’s will.

The rush of relief was short-lived, quickly replaced by a wave of memories he didn’t ask for. He thought of your old apartment—the one you shared together, the one he still hadn’t been able to let go of.

Instead, he’d thrown money at it, year after year, paying a cleaning service to keep it in perfect condition. It wasn’t just sentiment. At least, that’s what he told himself. It was an investment for your future—a gift he couldn’t bring himself to deliver.

His jaw tightened as he shoved the binder into his work bag.

The reminder of that place, combined with his lack of sleep, his foul mood, and the obligation to meet you later surrounded by the rest of the old gang, had him feeling more grouchy than usual this morning.

–

Kirishima leaned closer, his crimson eyes wide with disbelief. “You deleted the message? Dude, you poured your heart out—like, you never do that. And then you just… erased it?”

Katsuki glared at him, his scowl deepening. “I said shut up, Shitty Hair. It ain’t a big deal.”

“And?” Kirishima repeated incredulously. “Bro, that’s huge!” The larger redhead stood and threw his arms up into the air. 

You’ve been beating yourself up about her for years! And now she reaches out, and you—”

“Shut. Up.” Katsuki growled, his tone low and dangerous. 

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head. “Man, you’re impossible. What even happened last night? You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

The words hit like a reminder, dragging Katsuki’s mind back to the night before.

–

He hadn’t gone to bed. Couldn’t.

Sleep refused him and Katsuki refused to chase it. 

And everytime he closed his eyes he saw your pretty face. 

The glow of his phone had been his only companion in the dark apartment, your contact pulled up on the screen. His thumb hovered over the call button. Like he didn’t just make plans to see you hours ago. 

When he realized it—that you were only showing up for the will, not to hash things out, maybe not even to stay for the annual get-together, and this will probably be the last time he sees you in person again—

Katsuki stared at it for what felt like forever.

And then he chucked his phone out the bedroom.

“Tch,” he muttered to himself as he slammed the window shut, feeling more irritated than relieved.

By the time he’d made his way back to the kitchen, the freezer’s icy air had jolted him out of his foggy thoughts. His eyes roved over the random collection of junk melting on his floors. Fucking leftovers from Kaminari, ice packs Mina had insisted he’d need “just in case,” and even some weird protein bars from Kirishima. 

But as he reached deeper, his hand brushed something familiar, something colder than the frost itself. A memory surfaced, unbidden.

The apartment you’d shared.

You’d picked it together, your laughter filling the empty space as you debated over paint colors and furniture. It had been more yours than his—cozy and bright, filled with the warmth only you could bring.

When you left, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything with the place. Every year, he wrote a check for a cleaning service, making sure it stayed in perfect condition. Not because he couldn’t let go. Definitely not because he’d been holding onto you all these years. 

‘It was just practical.’ 

That’s what he told himself.

But standing there in the dim light of his kitchen, thumbing the frosty binder that contained your grandmother’s will, the weight of the empty apartment hit him again.

It didn’t matter that he’d kept it spotless or untouched. 

Without you, it was just… a building.

The rest of the night blurred into a mix of pacing, overthinking, and trying not to think about how seeing you again—especially in a public setting with people he also cared about—was already making his mood worse.

‘Fuck me.’

–

And it was fucking raining.

Katsuki glared up at the slate-gray sky, droplets pelting his face like tiny, frigid reminders that the universe had it out for him. 

His boots splashed through a shallow puddle as he stormed into the agency, the freezer bag slung over one shoulder like a weapon. His scowl was etched deeper than usual, and his mood was as dark as the thunderclouds looming above.

The glass doors slid open with a hiss, and he stomped through the lobby, tracking water across the pristine floors. A cheerful voice greeted him from behind the front desk.

��Hey, Good morning, Bakugou—”

Sero didn’t even get to finish his sentence before a frozen packet of soy sauce collided squarely with his face.

“COñO—!” Sero yelped, clutching his forehead as the icy projectile clattered to the floor.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grumbled, rummaging in the freezer bag for his next target.

The front desk assistant rushed to help Sero back to his feet, their expression a mixture of concern and barely concealed amusement.

“Bakugou, what the hell!” Sero managed, still reeling from the unexpected assault.

Before he could get a response, Denki came barrelling out of the side hallway, his signature grin plastered across his face. 

“Hey, bro, what’s—”

He didn’t get to finish either. 

A bag of frozen fried rice sailed through the air, smacking him in the chest. Denki staggered, his arms flailing, before his foot slid on the now-wet floor.

“Whoa—!”

He went down in a spectacular crash, skidding into the front desk and sending papers and pens flying.

Katsuki’s grin widened, sharp and feral, as he grabbed the next batch of frozen contraband from his bag.

“What’s going on out here?” 

Mina’s voice echoed from down the hall. She rounded the corner, her pink features scrunched in confusion. When her golden eyes locked onto Denki sprawled on the floor and Sero clutching his cheek, her jaw dropped.

“Are we under attack?!” she gasped, her gaze snapping to Katsuki.

But then she saw it—that devilish gleam in his crimson eyes, the way his shoulders shook ever so slightly as if holding back laughter. 

Her instincts kicked in immediately.

“Oh no. Nope. Not today!”

She pivoted on her heel to retreat, and she was actually running pretty fast, but she didn’t make it far.

With deadly precision, Katsuki hurled several frozen chocolate bars, each one finding its mark on her back. Mina yelped and stumbled, clutching at her rear as she muttered something about betrayal.

The commotion had drawn the attention of the interns and staff in the building. They peeked out of offices and around corners, whispering and pointing as the chaos unfolded.

Only one person had yet to face Katsuki’s wrath–

Kirishima.

Speak of the angel, and he shall appear. 

The red-haired hero stood at the end of the hall, balancing a large box of donuts against his hip, his rugged frame outlined by the dull gray light streaming through the agency’s rain-streaked windows. 

Kirishima’s garnet eyes scanned the chaos before him, his expression a mix of calm curiosity and restrained amusement.

The scene was a study in destruction. Mina was crouched over, her back hunched as she fumbled with an unopened chocolate bar. A faint smear of melted chocolate was already on her cheek as she muttered about wasting good snacks under her breath. 

Denki, sprawled on the slick, rain-damp floor, was kicking weakly at the legs of a chair he’d somehow entangled himself with during his fall. His hair was sticking out in wild, damp spikes, and his voice rose with melodramatic flair.

“Attempted murder!” Denki declared, pointing a shaky finger at Katsuki, though his dramatic delivery was undercut by his inability to actually get up. 

“This is what friends get for trying to brighten his day? Betrayal, Sero! Betrayal, I tell you!”

Sero, meanwhile, was leaning heavily on the front desk for support, the soy sauce held firmly to his face like an ice pack. His lips moved rapidly, stringing together curses in Spanish as the desk intern fretted beside him. They kept trying to guide him to a nearby chair, their shoes squeaking against the damp floor as they slipped and stumbled.

“Dios mío, it’s soy sauce! What kind of psycho uses soy sauce as a weapon?!” Sero barked, holding up the offending packet as evidence.

“THAT psycho, who else!”

The intern muttered something about checking the first-aid kit while simultaneously trying to help Denki, whose flailing made the slick floor even harder to navigate. At one point, they nearly toppled into Sero, who shot them a frantic look and muttered, “No, no! You’re not taking me down with him!”

And then there was Katsuki, standing at the center of it all like a storm. His crimson eyes burned with something fierce and unrelenting, and his grin was razor-sharp. The freezer bag slung over his shoulder looked almost deflated now, but his hands were far from empty.

Kirishima took all this in, his gaze inevitably landed on Katsuki, who had frozen mid-motion. His head turned slowly, like a predator catching the scent of something new and tantalizing.

“Kirishima,” he growled, his tone low and ominous.

The redhead raised a single eyebrow, his stance casual as he adjusted the box of donuts against his hip.

For a brief moment, the tension was palpable, and even the air seemed to hum with an unspoken challenge.

“Hey, Bakugou. Rough morning?”

Katsuki didn’t respond. He simply reached into the bag and hurled the remaining contents—

A bundle of frozen salted beef and pork.

Kirishima didn’t flinch. He shifted the donuts slightly, hardening his features just enough to let the freezer bag land in his waiting hand with a dull thud.

The interns whooped and clapped at the smooth catch, some even pulling out their phones to record. Kirishima turned, flashing them his trademark grin as he lifted the box of donuts higher. 

“Hey, everyone, grab some donuts before they’re gone! Sugar makes the rain less miserable, right?”

His easy charm worked like a magnet, pulling the staff’s attention away from Katsuki’s rampage. They crowded around him, laughing and chatting as they snagged pastries and exchanged banter.

Kirishima waited until the hall cleared out before he gently placed the donuts on a nearby desk and turned his attention back to Mina, Sero, and Denki. He crouched to help them to their feet, murmuring soft reassurances and checking for any real damage. 

But Katsuki wasn’t done. He reached into the freezer bag and yanked out a frozen loaf of bread. The corners of his mouth twitched, and for a second, Kirishima thought he might actually laugh.

“Don’t you—” Sero started, but his words were cut off as Katsuki began tearing the loaf apart with the practiced ease of someone who knew how to weaponize anything.

Half-frozen slices became makeshift projectiles, hurtling through the air with alarming precision.

“You absolute lunatic! Pan de muerto! Pan de muerto!” Sero screeched, ducking and covering his head as a slice grazed his shoulder.

“Bakugou, stop!” Denki wailed from the floor, holding up a chair leg like a shield. A slice bounced off it with a dull thwack, landing squarely in his lap.

Meanwhile, Mina, unbothered by the chaos, had already unwrapped her chocolate bar and was munching on it contentedly. “You guys are being so dramatic,” she mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate. 

“It’s literally just bread.”

Another slice whizzed past her head, and she ducked with a startled laugh. “Okay, okay! Maybe it’s explosion murder bread!”

Sero finally managed to pull Denki upright, only for both of them to slip again as more frozen slices hit the floor like ninja stars.

Kirishima sighed, a soft exhale that carried years of understanding for his volatile best friend. With deliberate steps, he approached Katsuki, his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Alright, bro,” Kirishima said, his voice low enough to cut through the commotion but firm enough to command attention. 

“Put the carbs down.”

Katsuki turned his gaze on Kirishima, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a grunt, he threw the last slice onto the wet floor and slung his work back over his shoulder.

“Fine,” he muttered, though his scowl didn’t soften.

Kirishima clapped a hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the hallway. “Good. Now let’s figure out what’s really going on before you turn the agency into a war zone.”

Behind them, the chaos was still unraveling, with Sero clutching his chest like he’d survived a battle, Denki inspecting the bread slice in his lap, and Mina casually offering him a bite of her chocolate.

Once they were situated—Denki sprawled on a couch in Kirishima’s office, Sero nursing an ice pack in a plushy velvet chair, and Mina sitting in the office chair muttering about revenge—he straightened and fixed Katsuki with a knowing look.

“Let’s have a chat, yeah?”

Katsuki groaned, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “The hell for? Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”

“Uh-huh,” Kirishima said, crossing his arms. “You’ve got your murder face on, Bakugou, and you’ve been picking fights all morning. Spill it.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth, looking anywhere but at Kirishima. “It’s nothin’. Just had a shitty night.”

“Uh-huh,” Kirishima repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. 

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with her, would it?”

Katsuki froze.

His jaw clenched tightly, the flicker of frustration in his eyes stark against the fluorescent office light. Kirishima’s voice, steady but gentle, cut through the taut silence that hung between them.

Kirishima’s expression softened, his crimson eyes full of concern, though his tone didn’t waver. 

“C’mon, man. Talk to me. You’re not gonna get through this by chucking frozen food at everyone.”

The rain pattered rhythmically against the windowpane, filling the space where neither of them spoke. Its soft cadence was a stark contrast to the tension radiating from Katsuki. The faint hum of the refrigerator buzzed in the background, adding a low hum to the room.

Katsuki exhaled sharply, the sound breaking the stillness like a knife.

The tightness in his shoulders loosened slightly as his grip on the bag slackened, letting it drop onto the desk with a sharp thud. He scrubbed a hand through his messy blond hair, his usual fiery confidence dimmed.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kirishima quipped, stepping closer and clapping a firm hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. The gesture wasn’t forceful but grounding, like an anchor tethering him to the present. “But you don’t have to do it alone, you know? So, let’s hear it. What’s going on?”

Katsuki’s crimson eyes flickered, darting away before landing on the floor. His fingers twitched at his sides, his internal battle visible in every muscle of his tense frame. Kirishima didn’t push further, just stood there, steady and patient, his presence solid as ever.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Katsuki felt the faintest urge to let go of the walls he’d so painstakingly built. He thought about your voice—how it had lingered, filling up his whole body and apartment before cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. 

The words teetered on the edge of his tongue, heavy and unresolved.

Katsuki found himself considering it—actually talking about what had been weighing on him since your call.

–

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” 

Kirishima’s voice broke through Katsuki’s thoughts, dragging him back to the present. 

The blond stood by the desk edge, leaning on one hand, his other gripping a water bottle so tightly it crinkled under the pressure. His sharp red eyes darted to his friend briefly before returning to the floor.

Katsuki grunted, unscrewing the cap of the bottle with a flick of his wrist. 

“Don’t need to. I’m fine.” His tone was clipped, defensive, as if the words themselves were meant to ward off further probing.

“Yeah, sure,” Kirishima drawled, his disbelief obvious as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. He strolled over and perched casually on the corner of Katsuki’s desk, tilting his head like he was sizing him up. His lips curled into an easy grin, but his eyes betrayed the concern simmering beneath.

“Because staying up all night thinking about her is totally fine.”

The tension in the room shifted instantly. Katsuki’s glare shot up, blazing and deadly, his jaw tightening like a steel trap. “Keep talkin’, and I’ll make sure you ain’t fine either,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. Kirishima laughed, utterly unfazed by the threat. He leaned back on his hands, his grin widening. 

“Whatever you say, bro. But let’s be real—you’ve been waiting for this chance for forever. You’d better not screw it up.”

Katsuki scoffed, turning away to avoid the look on his friend’s face. He hated how easily Kirishima could see through him, but there was no point denying the truth. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. His shoulders were tight, every muscle coiled as if bracing for impact.

The thought of seeing you again loomed in his mind like a storm cloud, heavy and unavoidable. No matter how many nights he spent convincing himself it didn’t matter, his chest tightened at the idea of facing you. 

Too much had been left unsaid, and no amount of time could erase the sting of those unresolved feelings.

Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how much distance he’d put between you, seeing you again wasn’t going to be easy.

Katsuki rolled the water bottle in his hands, the plastic crinkling under his relentless grip. He stared down at it, the weight of Kirishima’s words settling over him like an iron chain. His friend’s casual posture only added fuel to his simmering irritation.

“Don’t act like you know everything,” Katsuki growled, his voice rougher than intended, his throat raw from too much silence and not enough sleep.

Kirishima didn’t budge. If anything, his grin softened, losing its teasing edge. He shifted slightly, planting one foot on the ground while the other swung lazily. “Come on, man. You think I don’t know how you get? You’ve been wound up tighter than a damn spring all week.”

Katsuki grunted in response, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and taking a long drink. The water did nothing to quench the fire burning in his chest. He slammed the bottle down onto the desk, droplets splattering the surface. “I said I’m fine,” he bit out, but the sharpness of his tone felt hollow even to him.

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that.” Kirishima’s voice dropped an octave, losing its earlier playfulness. His gaze turned steady, unwavering, as he leaned forward slightly. “But we both know it’s bull, Bakugou.”

The blond tensed, the air around him crackling with unspent energy. He turned his back to Kirishima, his hands gripping the desk edge like it might crumble under his touch. His reflection stared back at him in the rain-slicked window, pale and sharp and tired.

“You don’t know anything,” Katsuki muttered, his voice low and bitter.

Kirishima let out a soft sigh, the kind that was more understanding than frustrated. He stood, his broad frame casting a shadow over his friend. “You’re right,” he said, his tone gentler now, less like a challenge and more like an offer. “I don’t know everything. But I know you, Katsuki.”

That struck a chord, and Katsuki’s shoulders stiffened. He didn’t turn around, but his silence spoke volumes.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Kirishima’s voice softened even further, barely above a whisper. “Waiting to see her again. To fix whatever the hell’s been eating at you since... since back then.”

Katsuki’s breath hitched, just for a moment, but it was enough for Kirishima to catch it.

“It’s not that simple,” Katsuki muttered, his words clipped, almost choked. He finally turned, his sharp crimson eyes meeting Kirishima’s softer gaze. For a moment, all the walls he’d built around himself seemed thinner, more fragile.

“Nothing with her ever was.”

Kirishima gave a small nod, understanding without prying. He placed a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, firm but reassuring. “Then don’t make it complicated now. Just... don’t let whatever’s in your head ruin this, okay?”

Katsuki didn’t respond immediately. His jaw worked as he wrestled with his thoughts, the storm behind his eyes churning violently. Finally, he gave a sharp nod, brushing past Kirishima with his usual gruffness.

“Don’t need your pep talk,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. “I’m not gonna screw this up.”

Kirishima smiled faintly, watching his friend stride toward the door, his steps purposeful despite the weight hanging over him. “You better not, man,” he said softly, more to himself than to Katsuki.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Kirishima’s grin widened slightly. He knew Katsuki wouldn’t admit it, but the fire in his eyes wasn’t just from frustration.

Katsuki didn’t just walk out of the agency—he stormed out, every step heavy and purposeful, the air around him buzzing with his barely contained frustration. His boots pounded against the polished floor, leaving startled interns and bewildered sidekicks in his wake. 

He ignored the calls of his name, the concerned glances from his team.

The agency doors swung open with a force that echoed through the lobby, and he stepped into the rain without a second thought. 

Cold droplets slid down his face and soaked into the hood of his sweatshirt as he pulled it up, shielding himself from the world. With a single motion, he turned off his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket, silencing the incessant buzz of notifications and calls.

For the first time in years, he was unmoored. 

No schedule. 

No expectations. 

No demands. 

Just...him.

The streets blurred as he moved through them, a relentless rhythm carrying him past familiar landmarks. He passed several hero agencies, their glowing signs cutting through the rain-soaked afternoon. One of them bore Midoriya’s name, bright and proud. Another belonged to Shoto, sleek and understated. He barely glanced at them, his focus inward, his thoughts too tangled to untangle.

At the station, he bought a bullet train ticket without even checking the destination, his fingers fumbling with damp bills. He boarded and sank into a window seat, the hum of the train beneath him oddly soothing. 

For once, he didn’t have his earbuds in, no music to drown out the world. 

He didn’t even have his work bag. 

Just the water bottle in his hand.

The train sped forward, the city giving way to fields and mountains, but Katsuki barely noticed. His eyes stayed fixed on the window, though he wasn’t seeing the scenery. He turned the bottle around in his hands, the plastic cool and slightly damp from condensation. His reflection in the glass stared back at him, pale and shadowed under his hood.

He didn’t think. Not consciously. 

Instead, his mind wandered, circling around things he’d tried to ignore—your face, your voice, the weight of everything left unsaid.

By the time the train reached the last stop, he realized how far he’d gone. He stepped off into a station that was quieter, smaller, and felt worlds away from the city’s chaos. Still, he kept moving. A few more trains, then a bus, then one long, solitary walk.

The rain had stopped by the time he reached his destination, leaving the air fresh and heavy with the scent of wet earth. Katsuki stood in front of the door, the building older but familiar. The key in his pocket felt almost foreign as he fished it out, the metal cold against his fingertips.

With a sharp twist, the lock clicked, and Katsuki shouldered the door open. The weight of the past few hours pressed down on him as he stepped inside, his boots thudding loudly against the wooden floor. The sound echoed through the quiet space.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead, he stomped forward, his presence filling the room like a storm rolling in. The air inside smelled faintly of dust and something floral—maybe from a long-forgotten air freshener.

Everything was just as he’d left it.

The couch, the small table, even the old photo frame on the shelf he hadn’t been able to bring himself to take. The place wasn’t just a building to him—it was a time capsule, a shrine to everything he couldn’t let go of.

Katsuki stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, the water bottle still clutched in his hand. The silence pressed against him, but it didn’t feel suffocating. 

It felt... expectant.

His boots scuffed against the worn wooden floor. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through the drawn curtains, and the air was thick with the scent of stagnation—like the place had been holding its breath for years, waiting for something to change.

Finally, he sank onto the couch, his head dropping into his hands. The storm inside him hadn’t passed.

Shit was far from over, really. 

The apartment was eerily still, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears until it felt like a scream. 

Downstairs was sparse, the furniture exactly as it had been left the last time it was occupied. A couch, its fabric faded but familiar, faced a small television set atop a scuffed coffee table. A few coasters, still holding the faint stains of coffee cups long since gone cold, rested haphazardly on the surface. Along the walls, shelves held a mix of books and trinkets, some of which hadn’t been touched in years.

Katsuki’s gaze landed on the bookshelf, where a single photo frame sat tilted to the side. He knew exactly what it was without picking it up—a picture of the two of you, your arm slung around his shoulders, his around your waist, both of you grinning like idiots after a night at the ramen spot. 

He hadn’t been able to take it down.

Upstairs was no different. The other units in the building had been empty for years, their echoes a testament to time marching on. The once-lively hum of neighbors going about their lives had long since vanished, leaving only the faint creaks of the structure settling against itself.

Outside, the world was different. 

The neighborhood had transformed, a shift Katsuki had poured his own energy into. The cracked sidewalks had been replaced, the run-down playgrounds refurbished, the community centers bustling with activity again. Charities and outreach programs he’d quietly invested in had brought life back to the area, giving it a second chance. Katsuki wasn’t the type to invest in something unless he saw its potential. 

And yet, even with his vision realized, it wasn’t enough to let him move on.

It was the same reason he couldn’t bring himself to leave this place. It was tied to you, to the life you’d built together before it all fell apart. He had turned down countless relationships since—supermodels, celebrities, other heroes—none of them came close. 

They weren’t you. 

The few times he’d been blindsided into a surprise date, he always left before dessert, feeling the weight of your absence like a physical ache.

The paparazzi didn’t make it any easier. His hatred for them had grown over the years, festering like an untreated wound. They weren’t just vultures to him; they were the embodiment of every failure he couldn’t fix. 

They’d hounded him, his friends, and worst of all, you. 

After the breakup, the tabloids had gone wild, their headlines cruel and invasive.

“High School Sweethearts No More: The Explosive Breakup of Dynamight and Obsidian!”

“Behind Closed Doors: What Really Happened Between Them?”

“Moving on so soon: Pro Hero Obsidian Spotted at High Profile Party with New Beau.”

“Looks like Villains Aren’t The Only People He Beats Up: Pro Hero Obsidian Spotted with Burns After Hero Gala.”

“Diva Drama: Dynamight Recorded Snatching his Arm Away From Model in Distress.”

“Forever the Lone Wolf: Dynamight STILL Single After All These Years.”

That one landed on his desk yesterday morning. 

Every day had brought new speculation, new rumors, and new strangers tearing apart your life for sport. 

He could handle the attacks on himself—he’d grown used to being the target—but the thought of you enduring that same scrutiny twisted his gut in ways even his most brutal battles hadn’t.

He’d tried to protect you. He held one press conference—solo, against the pleading advice of his PR team—and stood in front of the world with his jaw set and his voice steady. Katsuki took full responsibility for the breakup, refusing to let your name get dragged any further. 

He didn’t care what it cost him. 

His warning was clear—

"Anyone who speaks about her again won’t just lose their job—they’ll lose their future. I’ll make sure of it. And trust me, no one’s gonna stop me.”

It wasn’t a threat. 

It was a promise. 

And the sheer force behind his words silenced even the most shameless reporters. Their voices faltered, cameras lowered slightly, as if the weight of his fury had reached through the lenses and pressed against their chests.

But it wasn’t just his actions that had left an impression on everyone.

No, what burned even brighter in his mind was the moment you’d stood up for him. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.  The video that went viral, the one where you’d taken on a photographer with a cold, unflinching resolve.

It had been a crowded evening, flashing lights illuminating every corner of the red carpet as you glided toward an award show in a gown that made you look like you’d descended straight from Olympus. Then, it happened—a venomous voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

The man’s insult was vile, a filthy accusation hurled without an ounce of restraint. 

“Happy to finally be free of that abusive asshole?!”

You’d spun around so fast, the sharp movement of your signature braids snapped in the air like a whip. 

The crowd stilled, the atmosphere electric with tension as all eyes turned to you.

Your voice was a razor, cold and sharp, slicing through the noise like a blade. 

“You’re speaking about something you know nothing about. He never laid a hand on me. And as far as I’m concerned, Dynamight’s got more character than all of you and your mothers put together!”

There was no anger in your tone, just a cutting precision that left no room for doubt. You stepped in close, not an ounce of fear in your eyes, towering over the man with an authority that seemed to shrink him where he stood.

The photographer stumbled, the smugness draining from his face as he paled under your gaze. The cameras were relentless, capturing every second as you stared him down.

And then, as quickly as it began, you turned on your heel, walking away without sparing him another glance. Your posture was regal, your back straight, your movements fluid as if you’d never been bothered in the first place. 

It wasn’t just a dismissal—it was a statement. You were untouchable, and he wasn’t worth another second of your time.

The photographer looked like he’d pissed himself on live TV. 

That clip dominated headlines for weeks, but what stuck with Katsuki wasn’t the internet’s reactions or the humiliation painted on the man’s face. 

It was you—the way you defended him without hesitation, the unwavering strength in your voice, and the way you carried yourself like a force of nature.

That moment said more than words ever could. 

You had his back, even when he didn’t ask for it, even when he absolutely didn’t deserve it. 

And that? 

That was something he would never forget.

Katsuki hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry when he saw the clip later. All he remembered was the sudden surge of love and fury that had overwhelmed him, so strong he’d accidentally melted his phone in his hand.

That love hadn’t gone anywhere, no matter how hard he’d tried to bury it. And maybe that was the problem. 

Maybe he couldn’t let go of you because he couldn’t find a way to value himself again after the fallout. 

Every rescue, every award, every headline proclaiming him Japan’s strongest hero felt hollow, like pouring water into a cup with a crack in the bottom. 

Nothing filled the hole you’d left behind.

Sitting now in the apartment, Katsuki felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. The silence screamed louder than any explosion, a constant reminder of everything he’d lost and everything he hadn’t figured out how to reclaim.

The water bottle in his hand crinkled under his grip as he sat there, staring at the room that once felt like home. He was poisoning himself with the past, and deep down, he knew it. 

But knowing and fixing were two different things.

And for once, 

Katsuki wasn’t sure if he could continue living this.

Pushing up from the couch, Katsuki wandered through the apartment, the silence clawing at him with every step. He didn’t dare pull his hood down, as if keeping it up could shield him from the memories flooding the air. His chest felt tight, his throat burning as he stepped into the small dining room and caught sight of the photos hanging on the wall.

The first one stopped him cold—a shot of the two of you at U.A., drenched in sweat and grinning like maniacs after a brutal training session. You were mid-laugh, your arms thrown above your head into the air, and his smirk was cocky, as always. 

Katsuki had forgotten how much you both smiled back then. He reached up and brushed his thumb over the frame, his hand trembling as his vision blurred.

He tried to keep walking, but each photo was like a punch to the gut. There was the one of your first joint mission as sidekicks, your hero suits bright and pristine, your eyes alight with determination. 

Another of a rare quiet moment at the dorms, you leaning against him on the couch, fast asleep while he scowled at whoever had dared to snap the picture. 

Even younger versions of you stared back at him—wide-eyed and full of dreams, utterly unaware of the fallout that would one day shatter it all.

His breath hitched, and he wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand, trying to keep himself together.

He moved to the kitchen next, where the emptiness screamed louder than the silence. The refrigerator was gone—he’d taken that with him when he left, though the small fruit magnets you’d collected were long gone. The counters were bare, and the cupboards hung slightly ajar, revealing their hollowness.

Katsuki’s gaze lingered on the stove, where a faint scorch mark marred the wall above the burners. He remembered the time you’d tried to make dinner and accidentally set the pan on fire. You’d laughed it off, waving away his curses, and somehow managed to salvage the meal. He could almost hear your voice echoing in the empty room, teasing him, grounding him.

He couldn’t stay there any longer. 

His feet carried him upstairs, the weight of the past growing heavier with each step. When he reached his old room, he paused, his hand on the doorframe. 

The air inside felt untouched, frozen in time.

His closet door was slightly ajar, and he could see his old clothes hanging there—his U.A. uniform, worn hoodies, and jackets he hadn’t thought about in years. A stack of textbooks sat on the desk, some still marked with your notes scrawled in the margins, reminders of late nights spent studying together.

Then there were the sweaters. The ones you used to steal. He pulled one from the pile and held it to his face, inhaling deeply even though he knew your scent was long gone. His chest heaved, and a bitter laugh escaped him. He let the sweater drop to the floor and leaned against the door, pressing his forehead to the frame as the tears spilled over.

He didn’t sob—Katsuki Bakugo didn’t sob—but the silent hot tears came all the same, streaking his cheeks and falling heavy onto the floor. He stood there, shaking, as the ache in his chest threatened to consume him.

Finally, he pushed himself upright and made his way down the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, his legs leaden as he approached the door at the end.

Your bedroom. 

‘No, the bedroom.’

He hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, and he clenched his jaw, willing himself to move. He turned the knob slowly, the creak of the door echoing in the empty hallway.

The room was bare now, the bed stripped, the walls empty. The only sign of you was the faint indentations in the carpet where your furniture had been. 

Yet, Katsuki could see it all so vividly in his mind—the way the sunlight used to stream through the windows in the mornings, casting golden light on your face as you stretched and yawned. The way your laughter used to fill the space, making it feel warmer than any heater ever could.

His eyes flicked to the vanity where your things had once been. The scattered hair ties, the rows of books, even his eyeliner that you’d stolen because, as you’d said, “It’s better than mine, and you don’t even use it for fun!” He chuckled bitterly at the memory, the sound raw and broken.

He stepped further along, his feet dragging as he took it all in. This was where it had all fallen apart, and this was where he kept coming back to remind himself.

To remind himself that you were gone. To remind himself that you weren’t coming back. To remind himself that he didn’t need you, that he was fine.

But as he stood there, the silence screamed the truth he couldn’t escape. He wasn’t fine. He hadn’t been fine since the day you walked out, and no amount of victories or accolades could ever fill the void you left behind.

Katsuki sank to the floor, his back against the wall, and buried his face in his hands. 

For the first time in years, he let himself fall apart.

Katsuki sat on the dusty floor of your old room, his back pressed against the wall. The weight of his emotions clung to him like a wet cloak, heavy and suffocating. His red, swollen eyes tracked the faint streams of dust swirling in the air, illuminated by the dim, gray light filtering through the window. 

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of the old apartment settling.

It scared Katsuki because it screamed the truth. 

He felt hollow. No, worse—he felt small. 

Like a child left behind, staring out the window for someone who wasn’t coming back. His hands rested limply on his knees, and his breathing came in shaky, uneven bursts. He wasn’t used to sitting still, wasn’t used to being in a space where he couldn’t just do something to distract himself from the gnawing ache inside.

The growl of his stomach startled him, low and persistent. Katsuki huffed, the sound a weak shadow of his usual irritation. His lips curled into a half-hearted scowl before his expression crumpled again. 

That heat—the kind that had nothing to do with his Quirk—began to bubble up in his stomach.

Guilt.

It burned low and steady, an ember that refused to die out no matter how much he tried to smother it. It wasn’t just about how he’d treated you, though that alone was enough to make his chest tighten painfully. It was everything. 

The way he lashed out at the people closest to him. The way he snapped at reporters, interns, and sidekicks like a cornered animal. 

The way his anger had turned into a shield, pushing everyone away.

Everyone knew you were a sore subject.

Even the most daring reporters had learned not to mention you to him unless they wanted to get scorched—sometimes literally. Interviewers were warned to stick to a script, and those who didn’t often found themselves on the receiving end of a death glare that could silence an entire room.

And then there was the squad.

Katsuki clenched his fists, the sting of his nails digging into his palms grounding him. He knew they still kept in touch with you. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out.

Denki, with his awkward attempts to avoid the subject, had once likened the situation to a messy divorce. "Like… y’know, when the parents split up, and you don’t know which one to visit for Christmas," he’d joked, only to pale when Katsuki glared daggers at him.

Mina didn’t care. She’d outright told him she wasn’t going to stop being your friend, and he hadn’t had the energy to argue. Sero, ever the peacemaker, danced around the topic like his life depended on it, deflecting with humor or changing the subject entirely.

Katsuki had created this. Another hostile environment, born from his selfishness and entitlement. He had made you his, convinced himself that you always would be, without stopping to think about what you needed. 

And when it all fell apart, he didn’t just lose you. He dragged everyone else into the fallout, leaving them to tiptoe around his anger and his grief.

A fresh wave of tears pricked at his eyes, and Katsuki didn’t fight it this time. His chest heaved as the sobs came, rough and unrelenting.

He leaned forward, clutching his head in his hands as the sound tore from his throat, raw and ugly. The guilt was suffocating, a weight pressing down on him until he thought he might break.

He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t defiant or proud. 

Katsuki was just tired.

Tired of carrying the burden of his mistakes. Tired of pretending he was fine. Tired of the you-shaped hole in his heart that refused to be filled, no matter how many battles he won or accolades he earned.

As the sobs subsided into shaky breaths, Katsuki stared blankly at the floor, his vision blurred by tears. 

The room was quiet again, but it wasn’t the same oppressive silence as before. 

It felt… heavier. 

Like the space itself was bearing witness to his breaking point, holding his grief like a fragile, unspoken truth.

For the first time in years, Katsuki allowed himself to admit it.

He wasn’t okay.

And he didn’t know if he ever would be.

Katsuki’s chest was tight, his breaths ragged as he wiped the last of his tears away with the back of his hand. His body felt like it was made of lead, and every movement was an effort, but somehow, he forced himself to his feet. His legs felt unsteady, his knees weak, but there was no way he could stay here any longer. 

The weight of the apartment, the ghost of the past, was killing him.

With a frustrated growl, Katsuki swiped his phone from the floor, his fingers trembling as he tried to unlock it. He wasn’t looking at it—couldn’t look at it. 

The missed calls, the messages, all the reminders of the life he had built and lost... He turned the key in the lock with a final, deliberate click and slammed the door behind him, the sound of it echoing in the empty street like the final strike of a hammer.

His heartbeat hammered in his ears, but he didn’t stop. 

Katsuki didn’t think. 

He just ran.

The cold afternoon air hit his face like a slap, and for a moment, it felt like he was being pulled into a new world. The weight of his guilt, the crushing sense of failure, was still there, gnawing at him from within, but he refused to let it win. His feet pounded against the pavement, the rhythm of his legs a steady, almost desperate beat that matched the chaotic thoughts running through his mind. 

He ran as though he could outrun the past, outrun the damage he had caused, and for a moment, he didn’t care if he looked insane. 

Katsuki didn’t care who saw him or what anyone thought.

He ran through streets he barely noticed anymore, feet flying over cracks in the pavement, his breath coming in short bursts, but he didn’t slow down. He barely noticed the buildings changing, the neighborhood morphing as he passed it. He’d run this route countless times, but now, it was a blur—a blur of pain and raw need, pulling him forward with a force he couldn’t understand.

His muscles burned, his heart hammered, and still, he pushed forward, faster, harder. He could feel the familiar ache of exhaustion crawling into his bones, but it didn’t matter. The world outside of his mind felt like too much, but his feet knew exactly where to go. 

The house. 

His parents' house.

There was something in the idea of it that drew him, like the pull of something steady, something that had always been there—no matter how chaotic the world around him had become. It was the one place that had never changed, the one place where he could feel something close to peace, even if it wasn’t enough to fill the hole inside of him.

The city was a blur now, the tall buildings giving way to quieter streets, and then, finally, the familiar stretch of pavement that led him to his parents’ home. He didn’t slow down until he was almost there. His legs felt like they might give out, and his lungs screamed for air, but Katsuki didn’t care. His feet carried him forward, each step bringing him closer to something that felt like home.

When he finally reached the house, he stopped only long enough to catch his breath, leaning against the iron gate. The place still looked the same�� untouched by the changes that had swept through his life.

He had been here countless times, but now, the weight of it hit him differently. It wasn’t just his parents’ house. It was his last tether, the last place he could go to feel like he wasn’t completely lost.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, staring at the door as his breath came in ragged, gasping pulls. His hands shook as he pushed the gate open, the familiar squeak of the hinges sounding strangely distant in the air. His body was trembling, both from the run and the heavy emotions that still threatened to swallow him whole.

He didn't think about knocking. Didn’t care that it was unplanned. Without another thought, he made his way to the front door, his hand reaching for the handle.

And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Katsuki threw open the door with a sharp, deliberate motion and stepped inside.

The quiet of the house hit him like a wave. 

It was warm, comforting. The familiar scent of his mom’s cooking lingered in the air, and the floor creaked under his feet just the way it always had. Katsuki took a step forward, and another, his shoes thudding heavily against the wooden floors.

The house didn’t change. It wasn’t the home he once shared with you, but for some reason, right now, it was enough. 

It was all he could handle.

Katsuki didn’t speak. He didn’t call out for anyone. The house was empty, but it didn’t matter. It was the only place left that he could collapse into and not feel the weight of the world bearing down on him.

He was alone in the quiet. Alone with his thoughts. Finally, in what felt like forever, Katsuki allowed himself to breathe.

Even though everything was broken, even though he wasn’t sure how to fix it, he let himself have this—just this one moment where he didn’t have to be the hero, didn’t have to run, didn’t have to fight.

For just a few moments, he could rest.

The house was silent except for the low hum of the television.

Mitsuki's sharp, watchful gaze was focused on the screen, her usual sharp expression softened in the dim light. Masaru sat beside her, his larger frame relaxed but his eyes narrowed in thought as they both watched the news.

Outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant in this moment, and yet, the quiet tension in the room spoke volumes.

The creak of the door echoed through the hallway as Katsuki stumbled in, his boots sloshing with wet mud, his movements jerky and uncoordinated from the emotional storm he'd been fighting off.

His face was flushed from the run, his cheeks wet with tears that hadn’t quite dried. He had barely entered the room before his mother’s voice sliced through the air.

"Katsuki—" Mitsuki started, her tone already tinged with disapproval as her gaze flicked down at his muddy boots.

But before she could finish, before the words of reprimand could leave her mouth, Katsuki did something neither of them expected.

He fell to his knees in front of her, his usual strength suddenly crumbling. He buried his face against her waist, his body trembling like a leaf in the wind. His arms wrapped around her, clutching her tightly as if she were his lifeline.

Mitsuki gasped, her body freezing for a moment in surprise, her hands still poised mid-air as though to scold him. But she didn’t push him away. No, instead, her arms instinctively found their way around him, cradling her son close as she let out a soft, breathless, 

"Katsuki...?"

She could feel the wetness soaking into her blouse, the warm, trembling weight of him pressing against her. Her heart sank, her mind scrambling to make sense of the unfamiliar situation. Her son, the strong, unyielding Katsuki who had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, was crying.

Katsuki never cried.

His body was trembling against hers, and it felt like the world had shifted beneath them. Her strong son, the one who could defeat entire villains with a single explosion, was here, broken and raw.

Mitsuki’s eyes blurred for a moment as she felt something stir inside her chest—a mother’s instinct. She gently pulled his face away from her, her fingers brushing against his wet cheeks.

And there, in the light, she saw it—tears, streaked down his face, his eyes red and raw from the pain he was hiding.

Katsuki’s face crumpled for a moment as his eyes met hers, and the weight of everything he had been carrying seemed to burst through in a single, unrestrained sob. His chest hitched, and the sobs that he had been stifling now seemed impossible to contain. His hands grasped at her blouse, as if afraid she might slip away.

Mitsuki, still in shock, gently cupped his face, her thumbs swiping across his damp skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed her. Her son, the boy who had always been the protector, the one who never allowed himself to be vulnerable, was here with her now, and she didn’t know what to say.

Before she could find her voice, Masaru, who had been silent the entire time, slowly rose from his seat. 

His large hands came down on Katsuki’s shoulders, his grip steady and reassuring. The older man’s face was unreadable, but there was something heavy in his eyes. He, too, had seen the cracks forming in their son, the breaking apart of someone who had always held everything together.

Without a word, Masaru sank down beside them, his large frame settling against the floor with an almost practiced ease. Mitsuki shifted slightly, making room for her husband as Masaru sat beside her. 

Together, they surrounded their son. Katsuki, in between them, continued to sob, his body wracked with emotions that seemed too much to bear. 

The two of them wrapped their arms around him, holding him tightly, wordlessly, as if trying to keep him from falling apart completely.

It was an embrace, but it was also something more. It was a lifeline, the kind that only family could offer, a shelter from the storm.

Katsuki’s hands clutched at them both, his fingers digging into their shirts as if he might fall into an abyss if they let go. His sobs softened but didn’t stop, and the sound of them filled the room, echoing against the walls as if the house itself understood the weight of the moment.

Mitsuki’s eyes stung with unshed tears, her chest aching as she held her son. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t realized how badly he had been hurting. All these years, she had watched him grow into the man he was, and yet she had never once seen him break. He had always been the one who broke others. 

But now, here he was, in their arms, vulnerable and human in a way that shook her to her very core.

The silence of the room was filled only by Katsuki’s occasional ragged breath and the soft rustle of clothing as the family clung to each other. Time seemed to stand still as they stayed there, the world outside forgotten, all the noise of the city drowned out by the quiet, simple act of holding one another.

Katsuki’s sobs eventually tapered off, but he didn’t pull away. His body was still, exhausted, as if the release of everything he had been holding back had drained him completely. Mitsuki gently ran her fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him in the only way she knew how.

Masaru, ever the silent protector, simply kept his hands on their son’s back, his presence a steady force that didn’t need words. There was no judgment in his touch, no harsh reprimands, just the quiet strength of a father holding his son, knowing that sometimes, all you could do was be there.

And Katsuki, let himself be held, his walls down, his guard shattered. 

For just a little while, he wasn’t the hero. He wasn’t the explosive force that burned through the world. He was just a son, in his mother’s arms, in his father’s embrace, with nothing but love to shield him from the chaos outside.

Katsuki’s hiccups racked through his chest, short and desperate, like each sob was trying to tear him apart from the inside. His hands trembled as he wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming, flowing freely down his flushed cheeks.

He tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, leaving nothing but a choked sound.

Masaru, ever steady and calm, placed a hand on his son’s back, his voice gentle but firm. "It’s okay, Katsuki. Just breathe. We’re here, you don’t have to say anything." He rubbed his son’s back soothingly, his large hand offering a quiet strength that steadied Katsuki, grounding him in the moment.

Mitsuki, watching with soft eyes, let out a sigh of understanding and slid off the sofa beside Masaru, her hands never leaving Katsuki’s trembling form. She made sure to sit beside him, her touch warm against his shoulder, her comforting presence a safe harbor for him. 

Without a word, she pulled him close, both of them cradling him between them like a fragile piece of glass that might shatter if not held tightly enough.

For what felt like an eternity, the family remained like that—silent, holding one another.

The world outside continued, but here, in this home, time had slowed down to a quiet, comforting crawl. The only sounds were Katsuki’s ragged breathing and the soft rustling of clothes as his parents held him until the weight of his tears began to lessen. The sobs that had wracked his body slowly ebbed away, leaving only an aching, hollow emptiness in their wake.

Katsuki tried again to speak, but his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "She…" His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his chest aching as the name hung in the air, fragile and broken. 

"Her Grandma…" His voice faltered, and the words faded before he could finish them.

Mitsuki’s heart clenched at the sound of her son’s voice, so raw, so vulnerable. She didn’t need to ask what he meant. 

She knew. 

Last night, her own phone had been filled with calls, messages from people in the know about what was going on, and the news had come in sharp, like a slap to the face. She had been planning to call him again, to warn him, but he had come to her first.

She nodded softly, her voice steady as she wiped away the last of his tears. “That’s why I was calling last night, Katsuki. I—I didn’t want you to find out this way…” She gestured toward the television, where the news had already begun to broadcast the breaking story, her hand trembling slightly as she pointed toward the screen.

The words on the news flashed across the screen, each one like a punch to the gut. Katsuki's eyes followed his mother’s hand, still bleary and unfocused, until they locked onto the face that had been burned into his heart. 

Your face, drained of color and swollen, your eyes pink and red from the weight of everything. The image was unrecognizable, not because it wasn’t you, but because it felt like you had been stolen from the world he knew.

You looked so small, so fragile under the weight of your grief, your face framed by your braids and the veil covering you.

The headline flashed at the bottom of the screen: 

"Beloved Hero’s Only Family Member Passes After Battle with Villains."

And then, the part that shattered everything for Katsuki, a second line, written across the screen in red letters:

"Hero Obsidian Hurled Through Building, Unleashes Energy Blast Causing Widespread Blackout."

Katsuki’s breath caught in his chest. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his vision, to make sense of the fragments of words that were now too real.

Your image on the screen, alone, broken, and wrapped in black, your face hidden behind a veil.

The camera caught you walking out of your agency building, your body trembling with grief, the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

Somehow, you were still standing, still fighting.

But it wasn’t enough.

And that’s when the tears came again, hot and vicious. His vision blurred, and the overwhelming guilt struck him like a wave crashing down, pulling him under. Once again, the bitter truth gnawed at him.

Katsuki had failed you. 

He had failed to protect you, to be there when you needed him most.

His body shook with the sobs that wracked him, harder this time, deeper, as if the very pain he felt was too much for him to hold alone. His parents, still beside him, held him tightly, their arms a wall that wouldn’t break, even as he broke in their grasp.

And in that moment, Katsuki realized the truth of it all.

No matter how strong he became, no matter how many villains he defeated or lives he saved, it was never enough to keep you safe. You had always been his greatest fear, the one thing that could shatter him—and now, here it was, the aftermath of everything that had gone wrong.

The image of you, still grieving, still trying to stand tall despite it all, only dug the knife deeper into his heart. You were hurting. You had always carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, and he had been too blind, too stubborn to see it until it was too late.

"I'm so sorry…" Katsuki choked out, his voice barely audible as he tried to gather what little strength he had left. "I—I'm so fucking sorry." His words were broken, heavy with regret and love, as he clung to the warmth of his parents’ embrace, hoping for something, anything, to make the pain stop. But nothing could.

Once again, the guilt consumed him.

And once again, he wasn’t there to protect you.

As selfish as it was, Katsuki began to cry again.

Each tear that fell felt like a jagged shard carving through his chest, shredding whatever was left of his strength. He was crumbling. Not from the weight of his work or the expectations placed on him, but from the crushing weight of the realization that once again, he had failed. 

His heart felt like it was caught in a vice, pulsing painfully in his ribs as if trying to escape its own confines. It ached for you—aching for the warmth of your presence that had been ripped from him so suddenly, so violently.

The thought of you lying alone, hurting, with no one to hold you the way he should’ve, broke him further. He could barely breathe, each gasp filling his lungs with sharp, cold air. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to grasp something, anything, that could make him feel like he wasn’t losing his mind.

But instead, the only thing he could hear was the sound of your breathing. The same steady, rhythmic pattern from last night, when he spoke to you on the phone, after you’d calmed down, when you’d sounded so calm, so composed, as if nothing was wrong. 

As if she—your grandmother—hadn’t just slipped away from you, and you hadn’t been carrying that weight alone.

Why didn’t you tell him? 

Why hadn’t you said something, anything? 

Katsuki could feel the words clawing their way out of his throat, but they wouldn’t come. He knew, deep down, it wasn’t his right to demand that kind of information from you. 

He was no longer in your life, no longer someone you leaned on. He didn’t have the right to intrude on your grief, to insert himself back into a life he had broken and walked away from. But it didn’t stop the bitterness and the sting of realization from gnawing at his insides.

He should’ve noticed something was wrong. After all, he was always so sharp, so perceptive. The number of things he caught before others did, the number of times he’d read the room and predicted the outcome—he’d prided himself on that, but now? 

Now it was all worthless. It felt like everything he’d ever been good at had betrayed him in the face of you.

Why hadn’t he put it together? Why hadn’t he noticed the small shifts in your behavior over the past few days? Your strained voice on the phone, the way you’d sounded a little more distant, a little more tired. He thought it was just stress, just the weight of everything you carried in your job, but it was something else entirely. 

Why didn’t he see it?

He should’ve known something was wrong. He should’ve realized the moment you had mentioned needing her will. Rita had been getting up there in age, sure, but this—this was something different. 

Something he’d never imagined. He should’ve been paying attention to you, to that. Why didn’t he?

The guilt and confusion raked through him like a storm, and it was all he could do to stop himself from losing all sense of reality in the flood of self-hatred. His fists clenched in his lap, his breathing heavy and erratic. 

He felt so sick, so utterly useless.

But most of all, he felt like a coward. For leaving, for not fighting harder to stay in your life when he should’ve.

He had thought that, maybe, he could pull himself out of it. He thought he could convince himself that what was broken between you two couldn’t be fixed. 

As he sat there, the realization of how he had failed you settling in his chest like concrete, he knew that wasn’t true.

What had he done? 

What had he really done, other than push you away? What had he been doing, for all these years? His mind raced with guilt and regret, and his tears flowed again as his heart continued to tear itself apart.

Maybe, if he had been there. Maybe, if he had just held on a little longer. Maybe, if he’d cared more. 

Maybe, if he hadn’t been so consumed by pride, he would have known. He would’ve known you needed support.

But it was too late. 

Now all he could do was sit here, broken and alone, haunted by a truth he couldn’t undo.

He’d wasted part of his life not fixing things with you. 

Katsuki barely even noticed when he drifted off, the exhaustion from the emotional and physical toll finally overcoming him. His sobs had quieted, his body trembling in the warmth of his parents' embrace.

The familiar scent of his mother's perfume and the steady thrum of his father’s heartbeat against his back had acted as a balm, one he hadn't realized how desperately he needed until now. It wasn’t that he found solace in their arms. 

It was that, for the first time in so long, he didn’t feel alone.

Somehow, though, sleep wasn’t a reprieve. It was more like a hazy lull where time slowed down and nothing mattered, where his mind floated in a space too calm to feel anything but the rawness of his sorrow. He could still hear you in his thoughts, and even in his dreams, you were present.

But when he woke, the aching reality of the day crashed down on him. 

His muscles screamed in protest as he shifted, a dull soreness creeping into every joint. His eyes were swollen, gritty, and felt like they were stuck shut from all the crying. His throat burned from the hours of silent sobs, and the pressure in his head made him feel like it might split open. 

It was a heavy, uncomfortable reminder of how much he had failed himself—and you.

The weight of his stomach growling only reminded him how long it had been since he’d eaten, but his hunger was only a dull throb compared to the anguish gnawing at his heart.

As he slowly opened his eyes, he could see the dim light of early evening filtering through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room.

Katsuki blinked groggily, trying to make sense of the disorienting moment. His eyes landed first on the familiar fabric of his father’s favorite throw blanket draped over him, the one he always used when he napped on the couch. 

The softness of the fabric was a sharp contrast to the tension in his body. His head rested on one of her cushions—plump and worn, the one she always refused to part with because it was “just the right amount of softness.”

He felt the stirrings of a headache behind his eyes, an ache that seemed to travel deep into his skull, a reminder that the last few hours—however long they had been—had drained him beyond his limits.

His stomach churned again, a wave of discomfort, but it was nothing compared to the pounding in his head and the gnawing pain in his chest.

Fuck a hangover, heartbreak hurt worse. 

As he shifted to sit up, a wave of dizziness swept over him. His body protested, muscles tight and stiff, every inch of him feeling heavy and fatigued from the weight of everything that had happened.

Then, in the slow haze of his waking, it all came crashing back. The rush of memories hit him with the force of a freight train—the sound of your voice on the phone, so calm and composed despite the turmoil beneath. The image of you in black, your grandmother’s funeral probably just hours ago, and the devastating headlines that he had tried so hard to ignore. 

It all spiraled in his mind, flooding his senses.

The realization hit like a slap. His heart skipped a beat, a pang of panic rushing through his chest.

His work bag.

He left it at the office.

The one thing that had mattered in that damn bag was the will. The last piece of your grandmother’s life, the last thread connecting you to everything you had left. And he’d forgotten it, forgotten everything as he ran to his parents’ house, lost in his own grief and guilt.

His chest tightened again, but not with the same ache—it was different now. It was a feeling of responsibility. He couldn’t leave it there. The thought of you, of your grandmother’s final wishes, sitting alone in the office—waiting for him—was unbearable.

Katsuki reached up, brushing his hand over his face, wiping away the remnants of his tears. His fingers were stiff, trembling slightly, but he forced himself to focus. The world felt too loud, too heavy around him.

He turned to look at his parents, still sitting nearby, their concerned eyes watching him closely.

They said nothing, but the silent understanding between them told him everything he needed to know. His mother’s eyes, soft with concern, her hand resting lightly on his knee, and his father, always a quiet force of support, sitting with his arms crossed but not leaving his side.

And in that moment, despite everything, Katsuki knew he couldn’t afford to stay here forever.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to stand, his body still protesting the movement. His knees were weak, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Not now.

“Mom… Dad…” His voice was hoarse, strained from all the crying. He could barely get the words out, but he pushed through. “I gotta go back to the office.”

Mitsuki nodded, her gaze soft but worried. “We’ll be here when you get back, Katsu. But take care of yourself. Come eat something.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just turned and walked toward the door, his heart pounding in his chest, and the weight of everything he had to make right threatening to crush him all over again.

“Leaving so soon?”

Katsuki paused mid-step, his hand resting on the doorframe as the familiar voice cut through the heavy silence.

He turned, surprised, to see Kirishima standing there with a steaming bowl of stew in his hands. The bright, cheerful expression on his face was at odds with the heaviness of the moment, but that was Kirishima, always trying to lift the mood, even when things were dark.

The sight of his friend, standing there in the doorway, looking like he just walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of comfort, made something in Katsuki’s chest tighten. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed someone who wasn’t going to back off, someone who wasn’t going to let him just stumble through this mess alone.

“Me too, bro,” Kirishima repeated, a sincere, easy grin on his face as he approached. The warmth from the stew seemed to radiate between them, almost as if the simple gesture was meant to say, you’re not alone, man.

Kirishima extended the bowl toward him, and for a moment, Katsuki just stared at it, the steam rising in little swirls, as if the scent of it could somehow ground him in the reality of the present.

Katsuki shook his head, his breath catching for a split second.

"I… I don’t deserve this." His voice cracked slightly, the raw emotion from earlier threatening to spill over again.

But Kirishima didn’t flinch. Instead, he nudged the bowl a little closer, his eyes full of that unrelenting concern, the kind of concern that never gave up on people. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re my bro, and I’m not gonna let you drown in all this by yourself. We’re here, Katsuki. You ain’t gotta do it alone.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened at the words. He’d always known Kirishima had his back. Hell, Kirishima had always been there when Katsuki was too stubborn to admit he needed help. But hearing it now, in the quiet of the room, after everything that had happened, felt like a weight lifting off him, even if just a little bit.

He took the bowl from Kirishima’s hands, the warmth of the stew sending a little comfort through him. 

“Thanks,” Katsuki muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He wasn’t ready to face the world outside, not yet, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone in this as he thought.

Kirishima clapped him on the shoulder, the weight of his touch grounding, steadying. “Anytime, bro. We’re in this together.”

Katsuki looked down at the bowl, the steam fogging up his vision, and for a moment, the pain was more bearable. Not gone, but bearable. He wasn’t ready to go back out there and face everything just yet—but with his friends here, maybe he could.

Maybe he could face it, after all.

The evening had been a strange mix of comfort and rawness. The stew had filled Katsuki's stomach, but it hadn’t quite reached the gnawing emptiness in his chest.

Still, he was grateful for the quiet, and for the small moments of peace he’d found with his family, his friend, and the warmth of home. Kirishima’s constant cheer was a strength of their bond, even when Katsuki felt like a shell of himself.

Dinner had come to a close, with Kirishima showering compliments on Mitsuki and Masaru’s cooking, making them both laugh and blush. Katsuki could hardly believe how easily his best friend could turn everything into a good time, even in moments like these. 

It wasn’t the most perfect dinner, but for a moment, everything had felt almost normal again.

Mitsuki, though, seemed determined to make the most of the little reunion. “You boys make sure to call me later, okay?” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “And bring everyone next time. I love these visits.”

Katsuki merely nodded, his throat tight. The familiar warmth of her words felt like a balm, but also reminded him just how much he’d let slip through his fingers.

Masaru was the last to leave the house, and as he pulled his son into a tight hug, it felt almost like he was trying to force the pieces of Katsuki’s broken heart back together. “We’re here, son,” he murmured, a low and steady voice that Katsuki could almost hear echo in his chest. 

“You’ll get through this.”

Katsuki’s throat constricted, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed his father back, holding onto that connection, that unspoken understanding between them. After a long moment, his father pulled back, giving him one last pat on the back, and it was then that the flood of emotions seemed to subside, just for a moment.

Kirishima, ever the one to break the tension, clapped his hand on Katsuki’s back. “Alright, bro, let’s get outta here.”

The trio said their farewells, and soon, Katsuki was sliding into the passenger seat of Kirishima’s pickup truck. As soon as he did, his eyes landed on the familiar sight of his work bag sitting in the front seat, its strap hanging over the edge. The weight of the bag was a reminder of the responsibilities waiting for him—of the work he still needed to do, despite the emotional rollercoaster he’d just been through.

Without thinking, Katsuki punched Kirishima’s shoulder, a hard and sudden jab. “Next time, you mind your business, idiot,” he muttered, his voice gruff but with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Kirishima only chuckled, shaking his head, used to the gruff way his best friend expressed his gratitude.

“You’re welcome, bro. That’s what I’m here for,” Kirishima said, leaning over and patting the bag like it was some kind of prized possession. His chuckle rumbled in his chest as he started the truck, the engine roaring to life.

Katsuki could feel his muscles aching again, the tension from earlier creeping back in, but at least he wasn’t alone. Kirishima started driving through the streets, the familiar hum of the engine a background to their shared silence. 

The quiet was different now—still heavy, but with an unspoken understanding. 

Kirishima didn’t press him to talk, knowing full well that Katsuki wasn’t ready for that. Instead, he kept the radio low, just enough to fill the gaps, while the truck bounced over potholes and raced past city lights.

Katsuki leaned his head against the window, watching the world blur by in the dark. As much as he hated to admit it, the warmth of his family’s home, the comfort of Kirishima’s presence, had eased something inside of him. But it didn’t change the fact that the rest of the world, his world, felt like it was still spinning out of control.

He hadn’t done enough, not by a long shot.

The drive into the city was long enough for Katsuki to get lost in his thoughts, to feel the weight of what had happened—and what he still had to do. The city lights flickered as they passed, the skyscrapers standing tall against the skyline. He wanted to feel the pull of duty, of the hero’s path he walked every day, but tonight, it felt like the world had a different, darker gravity.

Kirishima’s truck finally pulled into the parking lot, the familiar hum of the engine dying down. Katsuki rubbed his temples, still feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing against his skull.

“Alright, bro. We’re here. You ready?” Kirishima asked, his tone light, trying to lift the weight again.

Katsuki paused before responding, looking at his work bag, the reminder of the mess he’d left behind at the office. The last thing he wanted to do was go out. Not when everything felt like it was falling apart. But he didn’t have a choice.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, his voice hoarse but steady. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

The moment Katsuki and Kirishima stepped into the ramen shop, the atmosphere immediately shifted. 

The cozy space, usually filled with the murmur of quiet conversations and the aroma of simmering broth, was alive with the sounds of laughter and friendly chatter. A table near the back was occupied by several of their classmates from Class 1-A, with a few familiar faces from the Bakusquad as well.

Izuku and Todoroki were stationed near the door, almost as if they had been waiting. Both of them looked up the moment the door opened, their expressions lighting up in a mix of surprise and excitement.

"Kachan!" Izuku grinned, his usual energy sparking to life as he waved, his eyes full of that unrelenting warmth. His unruly hair seemed a bit more disheveled than usual, but his bright smile and the slight bounce to his step made it clear that he was just glad to see his friend again, despite everything.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki greeted with his usual cool demeanor, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps an understanding, or an acknowledgment of the man standing before him. His tone was calm, almost like a subtle invitation for Katsuki to relax.

The rest of the group was no less enthusiastic. Momo, Jirou, and Kaminari were seated at the table closest to the window, while Sero and Mina had clearly been in the middle of a conversation that paused as soon as Katsuki entered. Kirishima’s arrival with Katsuki made it feel like a small celebration, one that none of them could help but join in on. 

“Hey, you!” Mina cheered, tossing her fortune cookies into the air as if they were confetti. “Glad to see you’re alive, Bakugou!”

“Damn right he is,” Kirishima said with his usual loud and cheerful tone, slapping Bakugou on the back with a grin so wide it seemed like it might break his face. He led them toward the table, giving everyone a moment to make room for them. Katsuki’s gaze briefly flickered across the others, but it wasn’t a long stay. 

His focus was elsewhere, the nagging feeling of being out of place itching at his skin.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, his body stiff, before a grunt slipped out of his throat. “Water. Lemon,” he muttered, his voice flat as he stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the nearest counter. The order was short and to the point, and it seemed like something he was only half-conscious of. The tension in his shoulders never quite let up, the weight of the day still hanging over him like a fog.

Mina’s laughter and Kaminari’s upbeat comments filled the space around him, but Katsuki didn’t fully engage. He turned to Kirishima, who was already talking animatedly with Ochako about something silly. "I’m gonna grab some aspirin," he said, his voice softer than usual as he finally broke away from the group.

Kirishima turned with a bright smile, giving him a thumbs-up. “Gotcha, bro. Be quick. Don’t want you missing out on all the fun!” He didn’t press any further, instead giving his attention back to Ochako, who was clearly just as happy to see everyone hanging out.

But as Katsuki turned to slip out of the shop, he noticed that two figures had quietly followed him. Izuku and Todoroki. The two of them were so alike in that way—always lingering near the door, almost like they had been expecting him to leave.

“Hey,” Izuku greeted again, his voice lower now, but still that familiar warmth in his tone. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Todoroki added, his gaze calm but observant. His eyes flickered toward Katsuki for a moment, and then away. “You don’t have to lie about it.”

Katsuki was quick to turn on them, his eyebrows furrowing as he clenched his fists. “Tch, I don’t need you two following me around,” he snapped, but the tone wasn’t as harsh as it could have been. He was tired, and his words didn’t quite hold the usual fire they had.

But they didn’t stop following him.

The trio stepped out into the cool night air, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets around them. Katsuki didn’t look back at them as they walked in step, his mind elsewhere. His stomach still churned, the pounding ache in his head persistent despite the steady, rhythmic steps of his boots hitting the pavement.

He glanced over at the convenience store across the street. It felt like a million miles away even though it was only a short walk. He had to get the aspirin before anything else. Before his head split open. Before he crumbled to pieces in front of his classmates. He could already feel the emotional weight of everything threatening to pull him under again.

“Should’ve known you’d be the first one to leave,” Izuku chuckled lightly, trying to ease the silence with his usual friendly banter.

Katsuki shot him a side-eye. “Shut up, Midoriya.”

The small moment of back-and-forth was enough to remind him that, even though everything had changed, some things could still feel familiar.

When they reached the store, Katsuki stepped inside, heading straight for the aisle with the pain relief section. He was running on fumes at this point—physically and emotionally drained. The chaos of the past few days was too much. His fingers brushed the cool bottles on the shelf, the ache in his head reminded him that the weight of it all wasn’t over. 

And in that moment, he wasn’t sure when it ever would be.

Izuku and Todoroki were right behind him, the soft padding of their footsteps the only sound accompanying his heavy steps. He didn’t want their company, didn’t want their questions—but they didn’t seem ready to leave him alone.

Izuku's voice broke through the silence, the familiar tone almost like a thread pulling him back to reality. 

"Hey, Bakugou… how’ve you been?"

Katsuki grumbled in response, not looking back at his old friend. He felt the tightness in his chest again, that familiar discomfort from their past exchanges, but this time it was different. This time, it was harder to ignore.

Todoroki, with his usual calm demeanor, didn’t wait for an answer before adding, “When are you going to try therapy? You’ve been shutting it down for a while now."

Katsuki stiffened, his eyes narrowing. He shot Todoroki a glance, one that said everything without him needing to say a word. But Todoroki didn’t flinch. He didn’t expect Katsuki to break. He didn’t expect a miracle. 

Just… a chance.

Katsuki shoved the door to the refrigerator open with a loud clang as he marched towards the back of the store, where the flowers and cards were displayed. He could feel the irritation boiling beneath his skin. He didn’t need therapy. He didn’t need to talk to some stranger. It was all bullshit. Just because it worked for Todoroki didn’t mean it would work for him.

"I don’t believe in that crap," he muttered, not really directing it at anyone in particular, but his voice was sharp, and it cut through the low murmur of the store. "Just because it worked for you, doesn't mean it’s gonna do anything for me."

Izuku, trailing behind him, quietly held out the water and aspirin in his hands, his expression unreadable. But his words were soft, almost like a plea, “We just want to see you out more, Bakugou. Join us again. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. We’re here. But it’s up to you…”

Katsuki’s throat tightened, and he swiped a bouquet of flowers from the cooler, his fingers brushing the delicate petals. He focused on them, determined not to let his emotions boil over again. ‘Focus,’ he told himself. 

‘Focus on the flowers. Just pick something appropriate for someone in mourning.’

He was barely aware of Todoroki’s calm response as he was absorbed in selecting three tasteful bouquets—nothing too extravagant, but still enough to express sympathy and care. He shoved them into Todoroki’s arms without a word, turning back toward the card display. His mind was spinning, too distracted by the weight of his emotions to truly focus on anything else.

When he reached for the cards, though, he paused. He needed a pen. Shit, he muttered under his breath, glancing around the store. His frustration simmered just below the surface as he clomped his boots toward the front counter, making a sharp turn toward the cashier.

The cheerful voice of the clerk met his ears as he stepped closer to the counter, “Hi there! Can I help you with anything?”

Katsuki was about to ask for a pen when something caught his attention from behind him. A soft voice, quiet and almost hesitant, slipped into his awareness.

“Excuse me…”

He turned instinctively, his gaze falling on the source of the voice—a young girl standing a few feet behind him. She was shorter than him, her figure partially obscured by the shelves of snacks, but there was a noticeable quietness about her. Her face, however, was obscured—hidden by the frontal locks of hair falling into her face despite the strong posture she wore. 

But the way she moved, the way her gaze flickered down before ever making brief contact with his—there was something about her that immediately drew his attention.

He stepped aside, and she gently nudged past him to place a variety of snacks on the counter. The mix of items she piled up was a curious assortment—ranging from sugary treats to fiery, spicy snacks, all with no in-between. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the way she handled the snacks, her fingers brushing them carefully before she set them down.

Izuku and Todoroki’s voices faded into the background, muffled as if they were miles away. Katsuki found himself standing still, just watching the girl as she interacted with the cashier. His eyes followed the way her hands hovered over the snacks, how her fingers fumbled for the right ones. 

There was something delicate about it, as if she were caught in her own little world. A brief sense of quiet intrigue filled him, and it was enough to distract him from everything else.

His thoughts swirled, unbidden memories flashing like a series of old film reels—of being close to someone, of having moments like this once. 

But the feeling quickly passed as the cashier gave the girl a cheerful greeting, taking the snacks from the counter. She didn’t speak much, but her presence left a soft ripple in the air, something fleeting.

Katsuki stood by the counter, his irritation simmering just under the surface, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He reached up and cleared his throat, not realizing how tense his shoulders had become. "I need a pen," he grumbled, tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently.

The cashier, a young woman with a soft smile, looked up at him with a polite nod. "Of course, just a moment," she said before turning to grab the pen from behind the counter.

Before she could even hand it to him, a voice interrupted. It was soft, almost tentative, but it hit him like a freight train—suddenly clear and undeniable in the quiet of the store.

“Excuse me, can you wait just a moment?”

Katsuki's head snapped around. His eyes zeroed in on the young girl, the one who had been so quiet earlier. She was turning on her heel, her movements quick and purposeful as she darted toward the back of the store. The unmistakable sound of footsteps—soft, yet swift—echoed in his ears as she disappeared behind the aisle.

Something in Katsuki’s chest tightened. The voice... He didn’t know why, but it fucking caught him. It was like a sudden shift in the air, the kind of thing that made everything else disappear for a split second.

His gaze flickered back to Izuku and Todoroki, who had, strangely, gone silent. Both of their faces were wide-eyed, staring at the spot where the girl had just been. Their expressions were something akin to shock, like they'd seen a ghost. 

They were frozen, not moving a muscle, eyes fixed in disbelief.

Katsuki’s heart began to pound in his chest, the sense of unease growing with each passing second.

And sure enough, when the girl reappeared, clutching a small bouquet of red roses in her hands, Katsuki realized exactly why the air had shifted so drastically.

It was her eyes. That same fucking gaze. She was wearing a casual outfit, and her hair was tucked beneath a beanie—nothing too distinct, but those eyes... Those familiar eyes. He had seen those eyes before, but where? 

‘When?’

The girl glanced over at him, her hand hesitating midair before setting the roses down on the counter next to her. She blinked, as though he hadn’t even realized he was staring at her with such intensity. Her gaze flicked down toward the flowers, but then, just as quickly, it darted back up. There was something in that brief moment, something that clicked in Katsuki’s mind.

It was as though the room had gotten smaller, the air thicker. His thoughts scattered, but one question floated up from the depths of his confusion, demanding an answer.

‘Why do I know those eyes?’

Before he could act on it, Izuku was the first to break the silence, his voice trembling slightly as he leaned in to whisper to Todoroki, who was still staring at the girl, mouth slightly agape.

“H-Haven’t we... seen her before?” Izuku asked, voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Katsuki to hear.

Todoroki nodded slowly, his face still frozen in shock.

Katsuki stood at the counter, still tense, his mind whirling as he gripped his thoughts. The roses were bright red, their soft petals clashing with the tightness in his chest. His thoughts were a mess—he was so close to figuring something out, but his head was pounding too hard for him to focus.

As he stared down at the blank card, trying to push the sick feeling of confusion and dread out of his system, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps—light but purposeful—approaching from behind him. He didn’t think much of it at first, too absorbed in his task of selecting the right ones for... your. 

His hand itched to finish the transaction, to do something with the flowers, to make it right somehow. He needed to focus, to ignore the feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

But then, everything seemed to freeze.

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat as he heard a soft rustle, followed by a voice—familiar, yet impossible.

Katsuki froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he turned, his eyes narrowing as the girl came into view again.

Her braids.

Perfectly done, just like yours.

They cascaded down her back, the intricate weave of strands so familiar that Katsuki’s blood ran cold. 

Katuski had seen those braids so many times in his life. He had helped form those braids so many times. He could picture you wearing them—could picture you with your eyes sparkling as you told him to stop acting like a damn fool. You were always so damn confident, so sure of yourself, just like the girl standing before him.

But this girl wasn’t you.

She was taller. Not by much, but enough to make her look like a stranger. At least four inches, maybe more. She wore a UA uniform, the distinctive blazer with the badge pressed into the chest.

Her hair. Those braids. The bright pink and purple dip-dye at the ends.

Katsuki’s mouth went dry. His mind screamed at him, ‘No, this can’t be real. This can’t be happening.’

And yet, there she was, standing in front of him. Her eyes met his, and that was it. The moment she looked at him, everything else fell away. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, as if trying to escape. He knew those eyes. 

He knew that face.

It was yours.

Her face was like a mirror of your own, a reflection that made his heart stop in his chest. 

The curve of her cheeks, soft and gentle, mimicked yours perfectly, as if they had been carved from the same mold. Her lips, sweet and naturally shaped, held the same subtle curve at the corners—just like your own, a detail he'd hadn’t thought about until now. Even her eyebrows arched with the same curves, the same slight tilt that he’d always thought was uniquely yours.

Her forehead, smooth and slightly rounded, matched your own to a T, and her nose—perfectly symmetrical, the bridge just as pronounced as yours—seemed to belong to him just as much as it did to her. Even her chin, that small yet defined curve, was the same, the same gentle dip at the center. 

It was like staring at a ghost, or a memory he never had. 

The identicalness of it all sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t escape it—the way she looked so much like you, the same subtle tilt of her head, the same glint in her smile. It was unnerving how her presence seemed to echo your own so perfectly. The way she held herself, her posture, her demeanor—

It was as though he were looking at you through a lens, and that realization crawled under his skin in a way he couldn’t shake.

But it was her eyes. Her eyes that bore into him, the same shade of deep, unwavering intensity, the same fire that had always blazed in his own gaze. It was there, in the way they stared back at him with an uncanny familiarity that both soothed and unsettled him. Her eyes were mirrors, reflections of his very soul, and they pulled him in with an intensity he wasn’t ready for.

The way she looked at him, with that knowing spark, felt like both a warm embrace and a haunting whisper. It was like something from deep within him was calling out to her, to the part of him he didn’t know was missing until now. It both comforted and terrified him—how close she was, how much she was like you, yet still somehow apart.

And that’s what unsettled him the most. She wasn’t just like you. She was you. And somehow, that thought didn’t feel like a connection—it felt like a haunting.

The girl crossed her arms, her posture suddenly all authority. She stood tall against him now, hair no longer in her face, and when she spoke, it was with an ease and confidence that sent a chill down his spine. Her gaze was colder. Sharper. Hardened by something.

“May I fucking help you?” 

Her voice was smooth, but laced with a quiet venom. Gone was the softness he had expected. Instead, she spoke with the kind of command that made everyone in the store pause.

Katsuki couldn’t move. He stood there, frozen, staring at her like some kind of idiot. His breath felt tight in his chest, and the air around him was thick with disbelief.

The cashier looked flustered, fumbling with the register as if she didn’t know what to do in the face of this girl’s sudden authority. Katsuki’s hands clenched into fists, his stomach twisting.

His thoughts were spiraling. His heart was pounding. He could barely process what was happening.

It couldn’t be.

It shouldn’t be.

Those were his eyes. 

For as long as he could remember, that was his red. He knew them. There was no mistaking it. Same as his mother and her father. 

But Katsuki didn’t answer. Instead, he opted to engage in a silent staring contest with the girl before him. 

Izuku stepped forward to break the tension, stepping between Katsuki and the girl. His voice was soft, trying to smooth over the awkwardness that Katsuki had no idea how to handle.

“I’ll pay for your snacks,” Izuku offered, his tone a little too chipper, trying to diffuse the awkwardness in the air.

The girl looked at Izuku for a moment, her gaze flicking from him to Katsuki, before quirking an eyebrow before taking the bag of snacks and the flowers with a simple nod. But before she turned to leave, she gave one last look to Katsuki. 

A look that pierced through him like a jolt of electricity. 

There was something in that look, something so familiar, so haunting, that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She walked away, leaving Katsuki standing there like an idiot, completely dazed. He could barely breathe, could barely even think.

“What the hell just happened?” Katsuki grumbled, his voice rough and hoarse.

Todoroki placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch firm but gentle, offering silent support as Katsuki tried to make sense of everything.

“I’m… not sure,” Todoroki said quietly, his voice calm as ever. 

Katsuki didn’t reply, his mind racing. He quickly turned back to the counter, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He grabbed the card and began to scribble something down in a daze, not caring what it was, just needing to get it out of his head before it exploded.

His heart felt like it was about to explode from his chest. He had to do something. 

Anything.

There was no time for second-guessing. His hands moved with precision, tying together the flowers into one large bouquet. The stems clicked together, and the sight of the carefully assembled flowers seemed to ground him, even as his thoughts scattered in a thousand directions.

He couldn't be hallucinating.

But the way his heart ached, the way his mind kept circling back to that girl, made him wonder if he had finally gone off the deep end. Maybe it was time to see a therapist after all. Maybe his crazy ass needed to be locked up in a padded room.

‘Wait.’ 

Icy-Hot and Deku had seen her, too. That meant she was real. She wasn’t just some twisted figment of his imagination.

‘But how the hell could that be?’

Katsuki clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tensing as he finished tying the bouquet. The delicate flowers seemed almost out of place in his hands, a reminder of everything that had spiraled out of his control. He pushed the thoughts aside with a sharp exhale, forcing himself to focus. 

Every movement felt robotic as he pressed the bouquet into a bag and paid for everything in a mechanical daze, the cashier’s words drifting over him without registering.

He wasn’t going to let this break him. Not yet.

He had to keep it together. He couldn’t afford to crumble now. Not when he had already come so far.

But as Katsuki stepped out of the store, the cold air hitting his face, his mind kicked into overdrive. The streets buzzed around him, people walking, cars rushing by, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. He barely noticed any of it.

The questions spiraled, relentless and clawing at him from every angle. What had he missed? What was slipping through his fingers? He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was shifting, moving faster than he could keep up, and he was losing his grip.

His heart beat harder, thoughts colliding in a tangled mess, but there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

A thought that had already started, and he had no idea how to stop it.

Katsuki’s hand tightened around the bag as he and the candy canes stalked down the street, his breath coming faster, sharper. He wasn’t going to let it break him. He wasn’t. But the knot in his stomach twisted harder with each passing second, and the weight on his chest grew heavier, suffocating.

He needed answers. 

And he needed them now.

Todoroki’s voice cut through the tension, and for a brief moment, Katsuki thought maybe the chill in the air had frozen his thoughts too. His tone was cool, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze.

"Secret love child?" 

Katsuki whipped his head around, his eyes flashing. "WE NEVER HAD KIDS, ICY-HOT!" he growled, his temper flaring up despite himself. People were staring but he didn’t give a shit. 

"And don’t even joke about that."

Izuku, walking alongside them, was muttering to himself so fast that Katsuki swore his lips might fall off. “I mean, how could it even—there’s no way—she looked so much like—what if she—”

Izuku’s eyes were wide, his mind racing through the same thoughts Katsuki had been trying to shove down. But it was too much, and he was too frantic to keep his mouth shut. Maybe his lips would finally fall off from all the mumbling. 

“Dude, calm the fuck down,” Katsuki snapped, turning toward Todoroki as his mind reeled with the implications. 

“You seriously think she’s—what? My kid or some shit?” His voice was harsh, but there was a nervous edge creeping into it, something he couldn’t hide.

Todoroki was calm as ever, unaffected by the rising tension. "It has to be. She looked so much like you. She even had those same eyes—there’s no way it was just a coincidence. Maybe you should’ve asked her. We could’ve—"

"No!" Izuku interrupted, his voice frantic. "We can’t just approach high schoolers without their guardians, what if—what if she was uncomfortable or something, you don’t just ask people questions like that, it’s—"

"I’m not asking shit!" Katsuki cut in sharply, hands curling into fists. "I’m not talking to a goddamn high schooler, I don’t care how she looks. You’re out of your damn minds. I’m just trying to get through the damn day without anything else fucking up"

His chest was tight, his thoughts too loud, and the panic was creeping in again, that feeling of being out of control. He wanted to scream, to punch something, but instead, he just stood there on the pavement, feeling like he was going to crack and die in front of them.

Todoroki didn’t seem to be fazed, though. "But you have to admit, Bakugou—there was something there. Something familiar. Maybe we should’ve just—"

"No!" Katsuki snapped, stepping forward, his frustration bubbling over. "This isn’t a damn soap opera! She’s a random girl with a damn hairstyle and a bouquet of roses, not some—" 

He stopped mid-sentence, a wave of unease washing over him again.

Izuku, meanwhile, was pacing in tiny circles, muttering under his breath. "It just doesn’t make sense. She looked so much like you, but—"

"Okay, enough!" Katsuki snarled, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t deal with their incessant back-and-forth while his brain kept spiraling into chaos. "I don’t give a shit how much she looks like me. She’s not mine, got it?" He stopped, his voice quieter now, an edge of defeat in it. 

"She can’t be."

There was a heavy silence between them, the cold air swirling around as they stood there on the sidewalk. Katsuki’s thoughts were still a mess, tangled in confusion and a sense of dread he couldn’t shake. But one thing was clear—whatever was going on, it was only just starting.

He couldn’t escape it. And maybe that was the worst part of all.

Finally, Todoroki broke the silence again, his voice cool as always but with a faint trace of something Katsuki couldn’t quite place. 

“You really should’ve asked her.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t tell if it was the tension or the lingering weight of something else. Something more unsettling. But right now, the only thing that mattered was getting away from this, from her—and from whatever the hell was going on in his head.

“Fuck off, Icy-Hot,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s just go get ramen or something. I can’t do this shit right now.”

Izuku nodded, relieved for the distraction, and as the three of them turned toward the ramen shop, Katsuki couldn’t help but feel like he was walking straight into a storm.

Walk into the storm he did.

As soon as they entered the ramen shop, Katsuki's thoughts still a swirl of confusion and irritation, he almost stumbled into a woman dressed entirely in black, her figure striking and confident in its bold simplicity. Her long braids swayed with the motion of her steps, the rhythmic sway of her hair somehow bringing an unsettling familiarity to him. 

But it wasn’t just the way she moved—it was the sound of her laughter, light and carefree, that stopped him in his tracks.

Katsuki blinked, his heart skipping a beat. His gaze followed the sound of the laughter, and his eyes landed on the white-haired girl she was holding, swinging her effortlessly in the air. The pre teen giggled, her face lighting up with joy. And before he could fully process what he was seeing, something deep inside him—the kind of sensation that came from something primal, something deep in his bones—shifted.

His body froze.

No, it wasn’t just his body—it was his soul. 

Like a force pulling him to the surface after drowning, his heart started beating again, slower, steadier, as if its rhythm was syncing with something outside of him. It was as if he'd found the one missing piece of a puzzle he didn't even know was incomplete. 

His breath hitched for just a second, and that was all it took.

The woman turned, her presence radiating a confidence that matched the fire burning in his chest. She was almost nose to chest with him, so close he could feel the warmth of her body—feel the exact moment when her eyes lifted from the white-haired girl in her arms and locked onto him.

It wasn’t just any glance. It was as if she had known he was there, had been expecting him, even. There was no hesitation, no surprise. Just an immediate recognition, like two forces from opposite ends of the world pulling together.

"You," she breathed, her voice a mix of disbelief and something softer—something that, for a moment, reminded him of a time long ago.

He knew her. 

Katsuki’s heart was pounding in his chest, and it was impossible to ignore the weight of the connection that surged between them, as though the universe had just decided that it was time for them to cross paths once again. His lips parted in disbelief, his eyes searching hers as the world around him seemed to narrow down to just the two of them. 

Everything else—the ramen shop, the chatter of the other patrons—faded away.

Katsuki took a breath, forcing himself to speak even as his mind raced, his thoughts still spinning in a cyclone of emotions and half-formed questions.

"You."

Part 3 now up

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[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

FIRST TIME- SAM WINCHESTER

a little sweet drabble/ thot i made of sam and virgin! reader :) i tried to post something like this last night but then my tumblr decided to actually remove the entire text! luv it xx

warnings: sex, but it’s super sweet and sam is a golden retriever boyfriend who is so in love it’s not even funny. he’s so gentle. also some swearing yada yada

what claire is listening to while she writes/ wrote this:

“you need to breathe.” he insisted, eyes wide as they stared down at your face, watching your bare chest rise and fall.

you felt naked.

you always felt naked around him- from the moment sam laid eyes on you. it was as if he was undressing you, wanting to reach the depths of your soul everytime he looked at you. you bathed in it.

everytime he thought you couldn’t see him, or didn’t notice him- you did. from the moment you met sam winchester- he was entranced with you. it had taken some time to warm up to his affections.

not that you didn’t want them- you craved them like a drug. you needed your next fix. but you were so scared, never having anyone seem to care about your meer existence this much.

so much so he went out of his way to ask you about your interests, to take the time to learn about them, listening to you and engaging when you talked. eyes so full of stars they seemed to sparkle whenever you got so engaged you’d talk with your hands, excited and eager to share with him.

after some months in such close proximity, you grew close with him- physically. each motel room was an excuse for him to sleep near you- whether that be the bed across from you- or the couch. even the floor.

he didn’t want to leave your side. and it had taken some time, but those touches turned to something more- something that sent flames from hell itself licking your spine, down to the pit at your core.

they were innocent enough, a brush against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, or a hand on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. he was so gentle with you, a gentle giant- you liked to call him. he treated you like fine china. and when the two of you had finally kissed- when it was late and dark and cold, and he wrapped you in his arms against the empty impala and kissed you so hard you grew dizzy for oxygen, you had explained to him you had been anxious.

you were new to this. you didn’t know what to do, how to date- how to love. but he just smiled softly, letting his hand cradle your cheek.

whenever you’re ready. i’ll be here, waiting. sam never rushed you, often allowing you to initiate the contact, at your own pace. a gentle squeeze at his hands when you were anxious, letting you play with his fingers when you needed that distraction and fidget. stroking your hair as he cuddled you before bed, wrapping you up in his big, strong arms like you were a child, rocking you to sleep.

you became more adventurous, advancing to a make out session in the back of deans impala, another time letting his thick, long fingers curl inside you so good you had the windows fogged and tainted with your handprints.

you were a virgin, and he knew that. but finally, you wanted to go that next step. dean was out, the motel room empty and quiet, except for your gentle gasps. “look at me honey.” he cooed and you obliged, taking a deep breath with him. you felt your chest rise and fall, the air whoosh out your lungs.

“there we go. do you still wanna do this?”

you nodded. “i’m gonna need words baby.”

“yes sammy i wanna. i’m just super nervous. what if i bleed?” he smiled softly, tilting his head before planting a kiss to your forehead.

“it’s completely normal. and it just means i’m big, which inflates my ego.” he teased, making you giggle. you knew he was big. you could feel him, resting on your thigh.

“will you go slow?”

“of course baby.”

“can you hold my hand?” his large hand engulfed yours and you curled your fingers through his, squeezing tightly. “of course baby.”

“i- i think i’m ready now.” you breathed out.

“this is gonna hurt a little, but if it hurts a lot- you tell me and we’ll stop right away yeah?”

you nodded. he planted another kiss to your lips, soft and gentle. adjusting himself, he rubbed his cock through your soaked folds, gathering the slick. you shivered as he teased, rubbing the head up and down, just past where you needed him. you clenched. “so wet already…” he whispered, before he slowly slid in. “n tight. fuck. you gotta relax baby, just breathe.”

he groaned, letting his head hang low, as he tried not to cum like a teenage boy. you took another breath, trying to get used to the intrusion that stretched you out so wide you thought you were a doll getting ripped in half. you groaned his name.

“atta girl. you’re doing so good for me baby. so, so good. can i go a little further?” you nodded quickly, biting down on your lip as you stared up at him with doe like eyes. he almost came right then and there.

pornographic moans sounded from two of you as he slid all the way in, hitting home. he could see an outline in your tummy, and he fought the urge to press down on it- making you squirm. that was for another time.

“fuck baby. you’re so beautiful f’me. you doing okay?”

“you’re so big…” you moaned, the pain slowly turning into something of pleasure as you adjusted to him. it felt… good. you felt full, like a puzzle piece had been clicked into place.

“yeah? you like my dick inside you, keeping you full? cause i know i do.” he smirked, kissing you again, his words teasing but his kiss anything but. it was full of love and affection it made you melt.

“y- you can move now.” you moaned as he broke the kiss, staring down at you like a man starved. “you sure baby? you’re comfortable?”

you nodded. “m’good. you feel good. like really, really good.” you rambled on, making him smirk cockily, laughing.

“yeah? i’m glad to hear it honey. i’m gonna make you feel even better- promise you. gonna treat you like the prettiest princess in the world- cause you are one. my pretty girl…”

[chubbyreaderchan]

How it Should Have Been | Sesshomaru x Reader

tw: chlldbirth, female reader, anti-sessrin, pregnancy complications, OG Sesshomaru, human reader from modern times so everyone can be included

-- The Reveal --

She was acting strange. 

Something was off with his human mate.

They were tired a lot more often than usual. 

Then when they had dinner with Rin in Kaede’s hut she ran from the room and was ill. It did not add up for the demon lord. Not until Kaede asked. 

“Dog demon.” the crone’s voice came out. “How far along is she?” 

His golden eyes widened and he instantly regretted not noticing from the beginning. He stood up from the social meal, young Rin chattering excitedly over the prospect of a baby had been muffled as he went to find her. It wasn’t difficult combined with knowing her scent better than his own and the scent of sick. He found her knelt over, and he joined her on the ground despite the smell. Pulling back any clothing or hair that may get in the way. 

“How long have you known you were with child, (Y/n)?” 

She looked up at him, a bit of shyness in her face but then she knew that look. To the average person it would be the usual cold stare. The indifferent demeanor he always held. But their connection was different. 

She knew him. 

“I only realised a couple weeks ago... if I had to guess... maybe since the last full moon?” His golden eyes pierced her soul. 

They always did in the most liberating and exciting way. 

His slender fingers reached forward and he gently wiped her face. For one moment, Sesshomaru held an expression of care in his stony features. 

In that moment he was truly beautiful. 

-- Things Get Complicated -- 

Her body was beautiful in Sesshomaru’s mind.

Everytime they were alone his hands were on the growing bump, on her body in every way possible. It was a source of pride for the dog demon. However, one evening while she was taking care of the laundry she collapsed. He only found her because she took an unusual amount of time hanging her kimonos. 

Her body sprawled out in the dirt, face paled from the normal lively color. Instantly, she was in his arms and off to Kaede’s hut. 

"Old crone.” Sesshomaru’s voice was dark and demanding. “She collapsed.” If one didn’t know him he may seem unconcerned but there was a light waver to his voice. He was terrified. 

But if given the choice... he’d save her first.

Kagome was also in the hut, thankfully. 

“Lay her down!” Kagome insisted, not caring one bit about yelling at the demon lord. 

He didn’t either. She was more important than a tone of voice at this moment. 

Sesshomaru laid her down, letting her head rest against his lap. 

“Her heart beat is low” Kagome noted. The young priestess placed a cool rag on her forehead and she slowly came through.

“Kagome?” she was confused. Where was she? How did--? 

Oh! She remembered being light headed and then blank. 

Sesshomaru made a sigh of relief. 

“Your blood pressure is the issue,” Kagome explained. “She needs to rest. Stay off her feet. Probably until the baby is here, at least. Just to be safe. Only walking around a bit to help blood flow.” 

"Aye, she needs rest,"

His eyes turned instantly serious. "I'll be fine--"

"(Y/n)..." His tone was dark. Dangerous. A tone he'd never use on her. Ever.

This was serious.

He was scared of losing her.

In a moment he lifted her into his back to bring her home.

This fear caused Sesshomaru to become more protective.

He cooked. He cleaned. He did things he would never had done before.

Laundry. Hair brushing. Whatever was needed he did. He didn't even trust someone to do it for him. How could they do it correctly?

-- Birth --

It all happened so quickly.

Pain.

All she felt was pain.

Her water definitely broke.

It was time but something felt off.

It was her first child. How would she know? Instinct? Maybe. He was instantly at her side as she screamed in pain.

She survived worse than this, hadn't she?

The tears on her face made Sesshomaru angry. So very angry. Or was he scared? It was hard to tell the difference in that moment.

Towels. Blood.

Screaming.

All for the sake of a tiny silver haired baby to be placed in her waiting arms.

There was something wrong even still. She was paling again.

So much blood.

She could die.

Kagome rushed him out force that no one knew she had as she, Kaede and Sango worked to care for her and baby.

Luck.

That's all it was.

Luck that the bleeding stopped. That they were able to keep baby warm.

Then he was brought back in, seeing his baby on the breast of his woman was like seeing heaven.

The dog lord knelt down to her, touching her face then the baby's head. "It's a boy" she said in a horses voice.

"My son." He responded gently.

-- Toddling --

"Naoki!"

Tree of truth.

Named with the three that connected them all in mind.

She was pregnant again, despite Sesshomaru's hesitancy but she wanted one more.

Just one more.

He'd give her the world if she asked him.

The small silver haired boy was bothering his father whom didn't seem to interested in the boy who decided the single most scariest demon would be a great thing to climb on.

Sesshomaru looked up at his swollen wife. This pregnancy had no scares this time.

"Your papa isn't a tree,"

"Papa!" He still wasn't fully speaking but small babbling was expected. It was especially amusing since Sesshomaru would speak to him as if he knew exactly what was being said.

As if he respected the hanyou as an equal.

Perhaps he did.

The baby went to move towards his mother however he was on his father's shoulder and the movement started him towards the dirt. With grace, Sesshomaru grabbed the boy as if it were nothing before passing the son on to his mate.

"Ada!" Baby Naoki shouted in a high pitch squeak.

"I don't think that was fun. You would have ended up crying." He spoke, as always as if he knew exactly what the baby said.

Sesshomaru seemed to have a natural intuition with his children. It often left his mate jealous but the jealousy was squashed out by a pride of having someone care so much for them.

The demon lord had truly grown since she first met him all those years ago under that great tree.

It seemed he learned that caring wasn't weakness but strength.

That was why he didn't travel as often, though he still desired power, his family became his main priority.

That's how it should be.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Private Show (Choi Jongho) Rated

Pairing: Choi Jongho × Exotic Dancer! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff, Idol AU.

Summary: Knowing the maknae has been lusting for a certain expensive stripper, Yunho arranges a private dance just for him that includes a little bonus gift.

Word Count: 4.4K+

Warnings: Strip clubs, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pole dancing, masturbation, breast play, lap dance, spanking unprotected sex (always use protection), cum facial.

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Paying no mind to the lovely lady that was currently running her fingers through his hair, Jongho's eyes kept wandering around the bright, neon lighted room, shifting around in his seat at times so that it would be easier to see the stage in front of him. The girl, feeling a bit disappointed to be slighted as such, turned her attention over to his companion, who was more than eager to accept her little dance on his lap. His large hands fought hard to keep them at his sides, knowing fully well the rules of not touching the exotic dancers. But there was certainly no rule about the girls touching the clients and some, like the bubbly and energetic one currently grinding on Yunho's lap, were more than happy to get a little handsy with them. He couldn't help the excited giggle as he tilted his head so she could glide her tongue down the side of his neck, loving every second of the attention he was getting. Noticing that his younger friend was hardly enjoying himself, Yunho sighed before taking out a couple bills from his pocket and holding it out for the young seductress. Wanting to leave him with one last souvenir, the stripper pulled one of the straps of her glittery bra down, allowing the male idol to get a glimpse of her nipple. Biting his lip, Yunho discreetly placed the bundle of cash inside her garment, sighing blissfully as he watched her saunter off to go entertain another man.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself." He pointed out as he looked at Jongho with a curious gaze.

"Maybe because I'm just not into these types of things..?" Jongho shrugged as he reached for the glass that was on the table in front of him.

"Bet you wouldn't be saying that if Y/N was the one performing."

Yunho smirked when Jongho sipped on his drink too harshly, lightly letting out a cough after choking on the alcoholic liquid.

"What?"

Yunho rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Oh come on dude, you practically drool and get hard everytime she's on stage."

Jongho lowered himself in his seat, gaze wandering uncomfortably across the glittery floor underneath him. Chuckling in an endearing tone, Yunho patted Jongho's back affectionately.

"Awww. Does the Ateez' baby have a little crush on the hot stripper?" He teased him.

"What?! N-no..." Jongho furrowed his eyebrows, moving away from Yunho as far as he was able to in their seating booth.

"I mean, I honestly don't blame you. There's a reason she's the most sought after and expensive dancer in this place."

Catching sight of one of the bouncers heading their way, Yunho inwardly smiled to himself as the plan he had devised was about to come into action, the main highlight of why he had dragged Jongho down to the club with him, albeit with very little resistance from the younger male.

"Excuse me sir? Miss Y/N is ready to receive you in the private room."

Widening his eyes at the bouncer's announcement, Jongho whipped his head over at Yunho, who had the biggest and somewhat unnerving grin plastered on his face, almost as if he was taunting the maknae. Jongho especially felt somewhat slighted when his Hyung dared to produce his infamous black card out of his pocket, waving it around in front of the other's unamused face.

"Of fucking course you'd be able to afford a private dance with her." Jongho rolled his eyes, trying to seem as though it didn't bother him that Yunho had actually gone out of his way to book a personal session with the most desired woman in the establishment.

"Black card privilege my friend." Yunho giggled, putting his card safely back in his wallet after making sure to flex it.

"Oh suck it." Jongho grumbled, no longer to hide his annoyance at not being capable of affording exclusive time with a sexy woman who could charge 6 digits an hour solely because she was that gorgeous and lavish to look at.

Slumping an arm over his malcontent friend, Yunho leaned in to finally speak out the crucial part in his devious plan.

"Jongho, I booked the private dance for you kiddo."

With mind unable to believe Yunho's words, Jongho looked at the older male in confusion and almost as if he was in a daze. Chuckling, Yunho cupped his younger member's face and closed his agape lips.

"Don't drool just yet, you haven't even seen her."

Slipping himself out of his seat, Yunho extended his hand out towards Jongho, helping him up before proceeding to lead him out of the main hall and up the stairs. Jongho felt the pounding of his heart resonating in his ears, mouth slightly feeling dry the closer they approached the door of the private room. Gulping as he realized just behind those 2 doors he'd be faced with the very personification of his lustful desires, Jongho's hand slightly trembled as he reached for the doorknob. Snorting softly at the younger member's hesitation, Yunho leaned in and opened the door for him.

"Trust me Jongho, Y/N is actually very nice and will make sure you're comfortable at all times." Yunho assured him whilst simultaneously pushing him inside.

"How the hell do you know that?" Although Jongho's inquiry was more as a mental question towards himself, he was not ready for Yunho's answer.

"It's not the first time I've spent money for a one on one session with her-"

"Uh what?!"

Without getting any further explanation, Jongho watched as Yunho waved him a goodbye and closed the door, the light beeping sound letting him know that it was secured with a lock. Turning around, Jongho looked around and admired the soft pink aesthetic the room had been decorated with. It had a somewhat innocent and angelic vibe to it, which he didn't particularly dislike. In fact, he thought it was rather cute as in his mind he was already picturing a deep red lighting and a bunch of chains rattling across the walls. It was a pleasant contrast.

"I'm glad you seem to like the decor, I was here to make sure every detail would be to your liking."

Whipping his head towards the voice that startled him with their presence, Jongho's breath was caught when he saw none other than Y/N leaning against one of the walls, lips curled up in that mesmerizing smile of hers that never failed to melt him. With slow steps, she approached him, a completely tactic and intentional move so he'd be able to check her out from head to toe, and boy did he make use of it. He licked his lips as he took in her off white costume, consisting of a pearl beaded and lace bra that made sure to push up her soft looking breasts in the most alluring way, matching lace panties that had pearl studded clasps at the hip sides, no doubt intended for fast and hassle free removal. Her legs were accentuated by thigh high white stockings and the criminally high platform heels that helped her figure look elongated and more graceful. Her abdomen was decorated with a diamond belly chain that was fitted around her waist, a tiny pink butterfly pendant dangling in the middle, matching the pendant on the diamond choker that adorned her captivating neck. She had gone a lot more softer than she usually other for on her makeup, blush pink and soft coral main the focal points on the apples of her cheeks and lips, barely any color on her eyes save for the winged eyeliner that helped make her eyes look more enigmatic. Several parts of her body had been brushed with sparkling highlighter, mainly focusing on her shoulders, cheekbones, collarbone and the sides of her arms and thighs. Her hair was even styled differently, soft curled ends piled up into two half ponytails, the rest of her hair let down in similarly styled waves except for the long parted bangs that helped frame her face into having a more cutesy and angelic aura.

"Of course...." Her silky voice brought him out of his trance, making him focus his attention on her words.

"I did have a little help. Your friend told me a few things you seemed to favor." Her soft and semi mischievous giggle made him feel slightly abashed with himself.

Coming up close to him, Y/N took hold of his face, slightly squishing them in an affectionate manner.

"Don't be shy baby. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Leave everything to me."

A soft gasp escaped Jongho's mouth when she playfully pushed him to sit on the cushioned seat behind him, nearly falling off but managing to catch himself before that happened. Strutting over to the pole in the middle of the room, Y/N looked at him and sent him a heart fluttering wink.

As if on cue, the lights dimmed just a bit as a slow and sensual song started to play. Whipping her hair around, Y/N's arm outstretched itself to take a firm hold of the pole. Kicking one leg off the floor and using it as momentum, it stayed outstretched while her other leg bent around the pole as well, helping her to spin around expertly the pole. No matter how many times he'd see her do it, Jongho could never stop himself from whispering a soft 'wow' at how effortlessly and natural she made it seem when he knew very well it took a lot of strength to execute such a move.

Spinning around a few turns, she carefully planted her feet back on the ground. Making sure she was facing Jongho, she kept one arm on the metal bar behind her as her body slowly slid down, back supported on the pole. She made sure to keep her legs parted, hips swaying side to side in rhythm with the music, her free hand caressing her bare inner thigh with a teasing motion. Once down on the floor, she stayed on her knees as she trailed her hands up her torso, cupping her breasts and giving them a hard squeeze. Jongho widened his eyes when he watched her turn her back to him, still on her knees as her hands reached up to unhook her bra. He watched with anticipation as she peeled the straps off her shoulders, taking it off one arm, then the other until it was tossed across the room.

"Oh fuck-" He groaned when he came face to face with her bare chest for the first time since he started going over to the club. Being such a popular dancer, Y/N only fully stripped in settings like this, private room to wealthy paying customers, a privilege he now got to experience thanks to Yunho.

Taking hold of her breasts once more, she kneaded them between her palms, letting out a hiss as she purposefully pinched them to make them as hard as possible. As if the sight couldn't get more erotic, she lifted her hips slightly off the ground and proceeded to roll her hips up into the air, giving Jongho the perfect imagery of how she would look if she was on top of him, dick filling her pussy. After playing with her perky tits enough for his amusement, she got up once more and went back to the pole. Holding onto it, one hand a few inches away from the other, she lifted her body up and kept her legs spread as she spun around in a straddle spin. She made sure to keep a cheeky smile towards the man watching her performance, noticing that his hand began to rub dangerously close to his very obvious hard on.

"Oh sweet boy, don't worry, I won't keep you waiting." She giggled inwardly to herself.

Expertly, she spun herself down, legs further spreading as the eased into a middle split onto the floor. Y/N didn't stay long in that position, quickly bringing her knees together as she used the pole to help her get up off the floor. Circling around to be in front of Jongho once more, she turned around once more and bent down to touch her ankles. Her hands then proceeded to glide up her legs until they reached up to her barely covered ass cheeks. Wanting to play with him more, she playfully gave her ass a rather mild slap and if she had been able to she would have seen the effect it had on Jongho, the idol lightly jolting up from his seat as one of his hands twitched against his lap. Hands coming up to her hips, her fingers quickly snapped open the pearl decorated clasps on her underwear, the garment dropping fast onto the floor just like Jongho's mouth.

"Oh my god.." Was all he could mutter as he gazed at Y/N's bare pussy that was tempting him to go over and eat it up. Y/N did not make it any easier as her fingers once again reached back to spread her folds apart, letting him see just how wet and glistening they were. Feeling aroused and wanting to play with herself a bit, Y/N turned around to face Jongho again as she sat back down with legs spread. Hand reaching in between her thighs, Y/N threw her head back as she rubbed 3 of her fingers against her throbbing clit, spilling out the hottest moans Jongho had ever heard. His eyes stayed trained on her core, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he saw how engorged and swollen her pussy lips were becoming thanks to her fast hand movements. As if the picture couldn't get any better-

"Jongho..." He tensed up when he heard her mutter his name. Opening her eyes, Y/N giggled at his shocked expression.

"Yes babyboy, you're not the only one who's getting turned on." She admitted, her rubbing becoming more intense and her sounds starting to get more high pitched. She could have made herself cum right then and there but she immediately halted her movements when she felt herself get too close to climaxing. She had already made up her mind that if she was going to cum, it was going to be on Jongho's cock, the very cock that she had been craving for quite some time. She vividly remembers the first time she saw him, sitting there in the crowd, eyes locked on her. Unlike the usual and common stares she'd get from other men that only displayed carnal lust and appetite, Jongho's eyes were different. They looked at her with pure adoration, staring at her as if she was an absolute goddess. He looked past her sexy body and dance and peered deep into the art and beauty of it, admiring each and every move she'd make onstage with fascination. Every time she'd perform and he was there, he always had an expression that seemed as if he had just discovered a priceless treasure or gem and Y/N loved the way he looked at her. He made her feel alive again, reminding her of why she loved performing, a love that had almost gone extinct after being viewed as nothing more than an object of entertainment and pleasure by many others. Seeing Jongho stare at her the way he did then, the way he was looking at her now, refueled that passion that had been buried deep inside her, being awakened once more by the man sitting in front of her.

Getting on all hands and knees, Y/N began crawling over to Jongho, the boy noticeably stiffening the closer she approached him. Sitting right in front of him, Y/N didn't hesitate to press her palms on his thick thighs, rubbing them in a gentle massage. She continued a pattern of stroking his thighs, thumbs occasionally pressing down hard. With a mischievous smirk, she hovered a hand above the tent in his pants before pressing it down to start palming him.

"Oh-Oh..." Jongho's breath hitched, thighs clenching at the feeling of her touching his intimate place, a picture he only got to live in his dreams up until that moment.

"You feel so big and thick even under these layers of clothes. Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

Noticing his hesitation and getting an inkling as to why it was, Y/N leaned forward, burying her face in between his legs as she placed her mouth right on top of his clothed bulge. Jongho outright moaned loudly at the contact, hips involuntarily bucking up each time she closed her mouth over his tent, only to open it back up before repeating the ministrations.

"Y/N please....." Jongho whined. Y/N giggled underneath him, the vibrations doing nothing but riling him up further. Giving in, Jongho began to unzip his pants, his hands sudden being pried off as Y/N took over and finished the task of undressing him. She pulled his pants and briefs down to pool around his ankles, face marveling at the sight of his erect cock right in front of her.

"Oh I was right. You are very thick and big."

Getting up, Y/N sat herself on top of Jongho's lap, the man underneath her gasping when she started rolling her hips against his, her wet folds coating his cock with her juices.

"Y/N are...are you sure this is ok?" He finally voiced out the biggest concern he had about all this.

Chuckling, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jongho's neck, leaning in close enough that her lips fanned over his own.

"Honey, it's perfectly fine. The only rules that apply inside these 4 walls are the ones that I set."

Taking hold of his hands, she placed them on her hips before continuing.

"And the number 1 rule is having you touch me as you please."

Jongho hesitantly ran his hands across her sides, still apprehensive about getting himself or her in trouble. Pouting slightly, Y/N began to grind her hips harder down onto his cock, gasping softly each time her clit felt stimulated by his shaft. That tiny action served to have him slide his hands down to cup her ass, squeezing harshly as he himself began bucking his hips upwards, matching the pace that she had set. He kept his eyes trained on the way her breasts bounced each time she moved fiercely on top of him. Releasing his grip on her ass, he placed them on top of her pillowy mounds, giving them tight squeezes that had Y/N shuddering when his thumbs brushed against her nipples, being extremely sensitive in them. After toying around with her sensitive nubs, making sure to flick them every so often, Jongho licked his lips before pressing his face against in between her tits. Opening his mouth, he latched his lips against one of her nipples, giving it harsh suckles, loud and sloppy noises being heard even over the music. Y/N closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm mouth on her boobs. Her fingers came up and tangled themselves on the back of his hair, palms unconsciously pressing him into her chest even further, back arching so that he would be able to take more of her soft flesh inside his mouth. Releasing the first nipple with a loud pop and a thin trail of saliva, Jongho knew it wouldn't be fair if her other nipple didn't get payed the same attention the other got. With a groan, his mouth once again enclosed over her nipple, practically devouring it into his warm and wet cavern.

Y/N's hip movements started to become more and more frantic. After having teased Jongho and herself so much before, she was beginning to feel much too hot and bothered, her pussy feeling empty and in desperate need to be filled with a fat and thick cock. Pulling Jongho's face off her chest, she suddenly got off his lap so she could move over towards the ottoman on the other side of the room. Getting on all fours, she presented her ass to Jongho once more, hand reaching in between to play with her reddened clit.

"Jongho please fuck me. Fuck this little hole of mine and use it as you want."

Not wanting to wait to see if it was a dream that he would wake up from or not, Jongho got up from his seat and began walking over to the exotic dancer. His clothes started to form a trail across the floor as he stripped out of every article of clothing he had on, the last garment dropped right as he came up behind her round and firm ass that was just begging to be slapped by one of his palms. Cupping the sides of her ass, Jongho rubbed the tip of his cock against her slickened lips, his precum mixing with hers, some of it even oozing down lightly on the floor. Any other time she would have appreciated how soft and gentle he was being, but right now that was the last thing she needed.

"Jongho don't tease me. Just drill that cock inside me and break me like one of those apples you break." She didn't even care that she accidentally made it known that she knew very well what he was capable of doing. Jongho on the other hand got a smug smile on his face after finding out that she had actually gone out of her way to do research on him.

Y/N had to press her hands against the top part of the couch to keep herself from holding forward after Jongho plunged his cock deep inside her. Not giving her dripping and warm walls time to prepare, Jongho began slamming his hips against her ass, his shaft being squeezed by her wet and clenching walls that made sure he wouldn't be going anywhere. Needy moans and cries of pleasure echoed in that room, most of them coming from the girl that was being impaled to the hilt by a thick cock repeatedly without mercy.

"Yes! Just like that!" She cried out, deep breaths spilling out as she pushed herself further back into Jongho's thrusts.

"You like being fucked like this?" He growled from behind, dropping one hand to slam hard against one of her cheeks that was rippling each time he pushed deep inside her core, the action making her walls contract painfully around Jongho's cock.

"I- yes! Fuck yes baby I do! I love being fucked as if I was nothing more than a glory hole." She shamelessly admitted.

Jongho once again brought his hand up and then dropped it down, giving her beautiful and supple ass a few repeated smacks, the loud cracking of his palm on her skin continuing to sound across the room until her flesh started to turn a pink-reddish hue. After getting his fill of making sure to slap her ass, Jongho cupped the sides of her soft cheeks, fingers digging harshly into her skin as he spread them out as much as they could, admiring the way his cock entered and re-entered her drenched hole.

"Fuck! You feel so good inside me baby, your going to make me cum."

Hearing those words made the male idol drive harder and more forceful thrusts into her body, using the power in his hips as his cock continued to stretch her tight hole. Y/N was losing her mind at how good the pleasure felt, she wouldn't have been suprised if her agape mouth was drooling saliva down her chin at the point. She focused on nothing else except relishing in how deep Jongho's cock was in her. She loved how rough he was being with her, and Jongho could also tell, her long drawn out screaming moans being a big clue that she was taking his hard thrusts very well. Too well. Swear began to mist both of their bodies, dripping down their foreheads and temples as his merciless pace continued. Y/N began to contract violently underneath him, her moans turning into full on wailing.

"Oh fuck! Jongho I'm gonna-"

She was caught off, lips only managing to spat out piercing whimpers of ecstasy as her juices seeped out and onto his length, warmly coating the entirety of his shaft. Y/N couldn't stop clenching around his cock, almost as if her body was purposefully trying to prolong her mind breaking orgasm. Feeling her spill all over him, Jongho's pace became more sloppy, less calculated, a clear indication that his own climax was not too far behind.

Knowing exactly where she wanted his cumshot, Y/N pulled away from Jongho's cock, quickly turning around and getting on her knees as her hand wrapped around his shaft and rapidly jerked him off, eyes looking up at him as she lowered her face even further so his tip would be right above her forehead.

"Oh shit!" Jongho spat out, head thrown back and eyes shut tightly, unable to hold back from cumming after realizing what Y/N had in store.

Within seconds Y/N felt his cum start to shoot out towards her face, tongue poking out to catch some of it. She loved how hot, thick and sticky it was. Her free hand came up to fondle his balls, proving to help in extending his high as much as possible as well making sure that more cum would be pumped out of him so that it could be splashed on Y/N's pretty face. The girl giggled as a second load shot out unexpectedly, drowning her face in cum as she swallowed what had been collected in her tongue. Jongho was panting almost feverishly when his high finally started to rescind, allowing him to calm his heartbeat that was pumping ferociously. Peering down, he let out a shocked exclaim as he saw the stripper's face drenched in his cum, a huge smile on her face that turned even brighter when she felt him get hard again in her hand. Making sure that his boner wouldn't go anywhere, Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to his tip, tongue poking out to dip into his slit.

"Your friend paid for 5 hours and we've only used up 2. What do you say we make his money worth while?"

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Say my name

Summary: You are the new head seamstress at the palace and tasked with the making of new clothes for the General who had his eye on you ever since he first saw you.

Pairing: General Kirigan x F!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: pining, fluff (kinda?), smut (oral; f receiving, unprotected sex, cum play👀)

A/N: I fully blame @constip8merm8 for this. You know why. I can't promise there will be more, but I had to get this out of my head. This is just an excuse to write some filth, sorry dudes. Tagging @agirllovespancakes cause she wanted me to 💜

Masterlist

You checked everything you would need in the next hour again, lining it up with precision as you waited. You were nervous. Not because the task was complicated, you had been the King’s seamstress for about three years by now, no.

You were nervous because it was him who requested your services personally.

General Kirigan.

You had only met him once briefly as he passed by. Usually his garments were made by the senior seamstress. But she had retired last month, leaving you in charge. Up until now some of your male colleagues had worked with him. But today he wanted you.

And you were positive you would do a superb job. You just had to ignore the handsome man whose body you had to touch to get the measurements you needed to sew his new cloak, coat and pants.

Rubbing your sweaty hands on your thighs you almost jumped when there was a knock at the door. The door opened, revealing one of the many servants, announcing the man who walked in next, before the door was closed again, leaving you alone with the General. You breathed in deeply, a little smile on your face.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” you didn’t know why but you bowed a little. Looking up you saw his eyes looking down at you with amusement.

“There’s no need for that. Yet, you better hurry, I have to leave by sundown,” he said and you nodded.

“Will you please take your cloak and coat off, so I can begin with the measurement?” you asked and he nodded, his fingers working each button of his dark coat. You averted your eyes to ignore how his long fingers worked at getting himself undressed. You heard him take off his cloak as you reached for the tape measure and turned to face him.

“I’m gonna be quick,” you promised as you began to work.

He was quiet and still as a stature as you took his measurements. You had your problems reaching his neck but you managed. He was taller than you and you cursed yourself that you didn’t bring your stool so you could work properly. Everytime you looked at him you found his eyes already on yours. This didn’t help your nervousness at all and you felt yourself flush even more.

“If I might say, this would have been easier if I had Manuel do this, he is taller than me,” you said with a nervous smile as you stopped in front of him. He smiled playfully.

“That might be, but I do enjoy your hands more than I do Manuel’s,” he looked at you and you sucked your bottom lip in, not daring to answer.

Not thinking clearly, you got on your knees to get the measurements for his pants, missing the dark look he gave you at seeing you on your knees just where he imagined you ever since he first saw you all these months ago.

He had been thinking about you more than he would like to admit.

You hummed, writing down everything you needed, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you measured up his, ending way too close to his groin. You looked up at him with big eyes as he groaned and closed his eyes, trying to get his body, his mind, in control. He wanted nothing more than to pick you up and push you against the nearest wall. You saw his jaw tense and you could see just how affected he seemed to be by your closeness as you looked at his growing bulge.

Wetting your lips you got up, turning away from him to write down everything you need.

“Would you like something similar to before, or can I try out some new designs?” you asked, still not turning around, not trusting yourself to not do something even more inappropriate.

“Surprise me,” he said quietly and you nodded. You took more time than usual to write everything down before you turned towards him again. You only needed one measurement until you were finished. Smiling softly, you looked at him.

“Could you bend down so I can measure your…” you gestured up to his neck and he nodded. You expected him to just bend down to let you quickly get the measurements but he kneeled down, now looking up at you and you were pretty sure you were about to faint. He was so close and his scent invading your nose, making you breathe out shakily. If he noticed your shaking hands he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead you felt one of his hands carefully rest on your waist as if to calm you down. This had the complete opposite effect. You let your hands fall to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you breathed in deeply.

“I got everything I need,” you whispered as you opened your eyes and found him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t name. He was so handsome. You wanted to touch him. To caress him. To kiss him. But you were only one mere servant to the king. Even though you got the impression that he wouldn’t mind, you didn’t want to be one of those girls he lay with and never be heard from again.

“Perfect,” he said quietly, his hand on your waist squeezing lightly before he got up to stand at his full height again.

“I could have something ready until the end of next week,” you said and he nodded with a small smile.

“Send word once you're finished, and I’ll make time so we can try them on,” he reached for his coat and cloak.

“Oh you don’t need me to try them on, General. I can just send someone…”

“No. I need you there,” he said and the look he gave you didn’t leave any room for arguments.

“Of course General,” you whispered and nodded. He stepped closer after he had buttoned his coat and you couldn’t stop yourself as your hands reached up to close the last 3 buttons.

“Call me Aleksander…” he whispered, as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling him take a step back.

He was gone by the time you opened your eyes again.

You were nervous. Someone had helped you with the garments you had made for General Kirigain, Aleksander, and now you found yourself waiting for him in his chambers. This was highly inappropriate. But not more inappropriate than the thoughts you had of him ever since you saw him last.

The skin on your forehead where he had kissed you seemed to burn every time you thought of him. Which was; all the time. You couldn’t get him out of your head. You had never felt this way. This aroused at only the thought of someone. Maybe this had something to do with his powers.

The door behind you opened and you turned around.

“I was hoping you would be here when I finished,” he said as he closed the door behind him. You felt the nervous flutter in your belly as he walked towards you, shedding of his thick coat.

“You send word, so here I am,” you said and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s that easy?” he asked and you knew he was teasing.

“Sometimes,” you teased back with a small smile and he smiled back.

“Will you show me what you made for me?” he asked. You only nodded before you turned from him to walk over to his bed where all the garments were spread out.

“I made two coats, a cloak and some pants for you to wear,” you explained and you felt him behind you, not close enough to touch but to feel his warmth as he leaned over your back, looking down.

“You did all of this in 9 days?” he asked and you nodded.

“I’ve already had some sketches. I don’t get to work with black fabric a lot…”

“They’re beautiful. Let me try them on,” he said as he stepped away to pick up one of the coats. He was standing there in only his pants and dark undershirt and this time you didn’t look away as he put the coat on, running his big hands over the fabric.

“All this measuring seems to have paid off,” he teased as he turned around to look at himself in the mirror. He looked regal. The silver ornaments you had used for the shoulders shimmering in the candle light.

He turned towards you as you looked up at him and you didn’t know why you felt so brave but you reached up to run your fingers over his cheek. He leaned into your touch and stepped closer, his chest touching yours. You didn’t know how long you just looked at each other before he bent down, still giving you time to decline before his lips brushed over yours. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours before he parted from you. You opened your eyes, your lips still tingling as you felt his hands framing your face before he kissed you again. You sighed, getting on your tiptoes to get closer as he kissed you like a dying man. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands wandering into his hair. His tongue licked over your lips and you parted them for him, moaning against him as his tongue danced with yours. You felt his hands leave your face only for them to run down your back to pick you up. You crossed your legs behind him, clinging to him as he walked towards his bed, sitting down with you in his lap without his lips parting from yours.

You were out of breath, your insides throbbing and feeling a little light headed. He parted from your lips, his forehead resting against your as he brushed his nose against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you,” he confessed and you couldn’t help but smile. You shifted your weight on his lap, rolling your hips a little as you felt his hardened length beneath you. He groaned, his hands running down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass to push you closer against him.

“Keep doing that and I won’t be able to stop,” he warned. You bit your lower lip, not stopping your movements and he looked at you with hungry eyes.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop, General,” you teased.

“I told you to call me Aleksander,” he groaned, thrusting up and you gasped.

“Make me,” you grinned, shrieking when you found yourself beneath him as he turned you on the bed so you were under him, his eyes dark and dangerous.

“Hands over your head until I say otherwise,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

“Yes General,” you teased and he chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down to kiss you again. You parted your legs to make space for him as he began to kiss down your jaw, kissing down your neck, sucking lightly on the skin of your throat before you felt him undo the laces of the blouse you were wearing, kissing down your collarbone and the top of your breasts. You were breathing hard, anticipating his lips as he pushed your blouse open.

“Beautiful,” he whispered before he softly kissed your breasts, closing his mouth around one of your nipples. You fought the urge to touch him, keeping your hands over your head as you arched your back.

You felt him smile against your skin as his tongue flicked over your nipple making you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out.

“I want to hear you,” he whispered before his lips wandered to your other breast. This time you moaned as he sucked harshly on your nipple. He kissed down your stomach, and you squirmed beneath him as he looked up at you, his eyes asking for permission. You bit your lip, nodding weakly as his finger hooked into your skirt and undergarments, pulling them down your knees, letting them fall to the ground. You were almost completely naked while he was still fully dressed, but you couldn’t bring himself to care. If how he touched you until now was any indication of what was about to come you would gladly stay like this forever.

His eyes seemed to eat you alive, focusing on your glistening cunt as he licked his lips. Only one man had ever gone down on you. Somehow you were sure you wouldn’t even remember the man's name, once the General was finished with you. He got off the bed, taking the coat and his shirt off.

You sighed.

“I really want to touch you,” you confessed.

“Soon, my dove,” he smiled and got down, slowly kissing up your leg. His beard added to the sensation of his lips and you positively lost your mind as he sucked on the skin of your inner thigh, marking you as his.

He teased you, his lips softly running over your folds but not really doing anything. You groaned, looking down at his amused eyes as his tongue dared out, licking one strip through your folds. He moaned at your taste, kissing your cunt before he lightly sucked on your clit.

“Heavens…” you cried out, your fingers buried in the soft covers of his bed as he buried his tongue inside of your cunt, his nose brushing over your clit.

“I want you to cum for me…” he whispered.

His tongue was back on your clit but you felt his fingers at your entrance, slowly pushing two in. You had never felt like this. You cried out when he angled his fingers inside of you, his mouth still sucking, nibbling, driving you insane.

“Come on, cum for me,” he demanded lowly and you came with a cry, your limbs shaking as you rode the wave of pure bliss he had just granted you. Out of breath you closed your eyes, trying to come down from your high when you felt his fingers leave your core. You opened your eyes, only finding him licking off your juices from his fingers and you could cum just from the sight of him again.

“Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said and you found yourself chuckling, making him smile.

“I think you hit your head down there…” you teased and he rolled his eyes. The man on top of you was so different to how you imagined him to be and you had to be careful not to fall for him.

“I think it’s time for you to fuck me General,” you said biting your lip and he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Still not saying my name. We can’t have that…” he pushed his pants down and you held his gaze until you couldn’t take it anymore and looked down. And you couldn’t hold back the low moan at seeing his already leaking cock, wanting nothing more than to run your tongue over it.

He settled between your legs before you could make any attempt to suck his cock, his arms resting next to either side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You can touch me when you say my name,” he whispered against your lips as you felt him line up and slowly enter you, the stretch of his length making you moan quietly. He watched you, his face above yours. He was moving slowly, biting his lip as he thrusted slowly until his whole length was buried inside of your tight cunt.

“Say it…” he groaned and even though you wanted nothing more than to touch him, you also wanted to tease him some more. Maybe you could even make The Darkling beg for you. A thought that made you clench around him and he cursed.

“You have to do better than that, General,” you grinned and his eyes seemed to darken.

“Careful what you wish for, Dove.”

“Don’t be gentle,” you whispered as you tilted your head up to kiss his lips and he growled, biting into your lower lip as you felt him bottom out to thrust back in. Hard.

“Say it…” he groaned, his head falling down, his lips brushing against your ear and you cried out as he fucked into you. Slow but hard, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. You wanted to touch him, to run your nails down his back, marking him so as yours even though you had no claim on him.

He sucked on your neck, his chest on yours, his weight almost crushing you. You hooked your legs around his behind, wanting him closer.

“Fuck me Aleksander…” you whispered against his ear as your arms came around him, your fingers running down his back and he growled, pumping into you faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You were so close, you didn’t know where you ended and he began.

“I can feel you squeezing me. Cum. Cum for me…” he said lowly, thrusting hard and you shattered around him, your fingers digging into his back as you came. Hard. While he fucked you through your orgasm.

He moaned against your shoulder, his moves getting sloppier until you felt him pull out, his weight leaving yours as he spilled his seed over your stomach, moaning your name lowly. You looked up at him, a work of art as he tried to get his breathing back to normal, his eyes closed. You looked at the mess he made on you, waiting for him to open his eyes as you gathered some of his cum on your fingers, bringing it up to your lips to suck on it.

“Fuck…” he groaned, watching you with dark eyes.

You smiled, sucking on your fingers.

“Already tired, General?” you grinned, shrieking with laughter when he began to tickle you.

[lordabovehelpme]

Tied to You - Bucky Barnes x Reader

For my lovely best friend. Happy birthday my dear, I hope you are having a wonderful morning and this puts a smile on your face. Trust me, it’s been hard to keep this a secret from you for so long, but I hope you enjoy. I love you, and I will see you later!!! 

Summary: You’re so happy to be standing before him, but something on his wrist brings you back to the very first time you met.

Warnings: f! reader, marriage

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excitement sends thrills up and down your spine, tingling through your toes and pooling in your stomach. You clutch the simple bouquet between your hands tighter and take a deep breath, trying to calm your frantic nerves.

Finally, after what seems like both an eternity and a millisecond, the classic “here comes the bride” starts to echo. Taking one more quick breath, you let your shoulders relax and start to turn the corner.

There you emerge from behind the doors of the little church in Brooklyn. Family and friends stand as you start your descent down the aisle. You meant to smile at the crying relatives, to give them some sort of comfort, but you can’t take your eyes off of him.

He stands before the altar, adorned in a black suit with a black tie. His hands stay clasped before him, but his striking blue eyes meet your own. They soften at the sight of you and his shoulders slightly shift towards you.

However, once you offer him a small smile, his eyes rack down your form and back up before meeting your gaze again. Usually his gaze causes you to fluster and try to hide away, but today you stand tall as you approach him.

He offers you a hand as you climb the few steps and you gladly take it. Handing the beautiful bouquet to your maid of honor, you look down at your clasped hands.

No longer does he shy away from you touching the metal, and no longer do you hesitate.

But something catches your eye as you settle before him. Right there on his metal wrist is a bracelet of thread. The one you made him all those years ago; bright yellows and blues, with tan and green. They all compliment the vibranium perfectly.

The sentiment is overwhelming and a gasp gets caught in your throat. “You wore it.” Your voice is small and he doesn’t need clarification to know what has puzzled you.

“Of course I did, doll.”

***

He can’t take his eyes off you. There you sit with some older ladies, spools of brightly colored thread by your side as you try and explain how to make a bracelet.

“Yeah, you’re starting to get it, this just crosses over here… see?” You lean over and point at one ladys horrible excuse of a friendship bracelet. They all laugh at one another and point out each other's mistakes, but become very defensive when their own flaws are pointed out.

“You should go talk to her!” An elbow is pressed into his side and Yori smirks.

“No I should not.” His eyes snap to face the older man, but not even a second passes before they beg to find your form again.

“Why not? She’s not getting any younger, and neither are you.”

Bucky sighs, but a small smile breaks onto his lips. “Haha, very funny. But I don’t even know what to say.”

Yori shrugs his shoulders. “Flatter her, girls love that. Tell her you love her eyes, her lips, her hair. Anything.”

A scoff falls from his lips as his head shakes. “I’m not going to suck up to her in hopes of a date.”

Yori places his hands over his own and he offers a smile to the soldier. His long white eyebrows twitch in the classic sign that the next few words will be uncharacteristically wise. The older man's eyes meet blue eyes and he gestures for him to lean in. Bucky follows and leans his head down.

“You will.”

Before the words even process in his head, Yori has already walked off, laughing loud as he clutches a hand to his chest. Once again, Bucky shakes his head at his antics.

“No I won’t.” He utters under his breath, before walking over to your little circle of mischievous old ladies.

You look up at him and he swears he might legitimately melt. “Hi!” You offer him a smile and he is already making funeral plans in his head.

“Oh, uh, hi.” Subconsciously, his flesh hand finds itself on the back of his neck, trying to rub away his nerves.

“Can I help you?”

He swears in his head, what does he need? He needs you. But he can’t say that. Swearing again, he tries to think of anything that would make sense to a normal human being.

“Yeah, I…” His eyes flicker around and land on one ladies bracelet. “I wanted to make a bracelet.”

Well great. Now he’s done it. He must look like the biggest dork in history. What was he thinking? Why couldn’t he just admire you from afar?

“Oh.” You genuinely look surprised. “Of course!” A wide smile breaks onto your face and you pat the empty seat next to you. “Come sit down and we’ll get you some thread.”

He can hear Yori’s laugh from the opposing corner. But, he follows your command and takes a seat next to you. Blue eyes follow your movements as you reach for a plastic container holding an entire rainbow of thread.

“So, what color are you thinking?”

He gives the rainbow one good look before sighing. “I don’t know.” You look at him as he offers a small awkward smile.

“Oh, okay. Well… do you know what type of bracelet you want?”

His fingers anxiously pick at the hem of his jacket. Shaking his head he murmurs, “Sorry, I know nothing about thread.”

Things seem to click in your mind that he has literally no idea about this stuff because you smile and slightly laugh. “Ahh, I see. That’s alright! Do you want me to choose some colors for you?”

His stomach flutters and he smiles at your soft laugh. “Yeah, doll, that would be nice.” The pet name slipped before he could even dream of stopping it. Once again, a long, loud, strand of curse words flood his mind.

Your movements stop, but quickly resume. In fact, you were so fast he’s not even sure you caught his slip. He watches with quizzical eyes as you pull brightly colored threads and measure them with your arms. Your fingertips move with ease as they tie the strands together and then hold it out to him. He reaches out and purposefully slides his fingers over your own.

“H-” your voice breaks out suddenly and he just smiles as you slightly fluster, clearing your throat you continue, “Here you go.”

He throws you a smirk and takes them from you. But then his plan of seduction hastingly halts when he realizes he has no idea what to do with the strands. So he just lets his hands rest in his lap as he stares down at the colorful strands.

“Do you need help?” You ask.

His head slowly tilts to meet your gaze and soft smile. He swears his heart stopped. Taking a gulp he prays you don't notice, he offers you a smile back. “Umm yeah.”

You scootch your chair next to his and reach over to grab the thread. Now he knows his heart stopped. You start explaining how to start a simple design but he can’t focus.

He means to focus, he wants to focus, but the smell of your shampoo wafts to his nose and makes his breaths longer. The subtle heat flowing from your skin to his where your arms slightly touch makes him want to close his eyes and lean in further to your touch.

“Are you paying attention?”

His eyes shoot open and heat rises to his cheeks. “Yes!”

One of your eyebrows twitch and amusement twinkles behind your eyes, but you continue where you stopped. He forces himself to listen and not be distracted any longer.

After about an hour of small talk and you helping him, finally the bracelet is long enough to tie off. Everytime your hand brushed his heart would skip a beat.

Now you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and cut the long ends. “There!” You smile at him and he nearly melts into a puddle beneath your feet.

“Thanks doll.” This time he doesn’t miss the way your body slightly stiffens and your eyes widen a tad.

“Umm, yeah.” You clasp your hands before you and open your mouth, but before you can say anything the older ladies call for you that they need your immediate help. You give him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I have to go, but it was nice to meet you…” trailing off when you realize you don’t know his name.

“Bucky.”

Nodding at him, your smile widens from remorseful to joy. “Bucky, it was nice to meet you.”

He watches as you walk away, laughing and giggling with the old ladies. “You too doll, you too.” Little did you know, but you walked off right with his heart. The once stone cold piece of meat, now fluttering and happily beating beneath your gaze and care. And for the last time that day another flood of curse words plagued his mind.

***

His hands squeeze your own and he takes a deep breath, blue eyes meeting your own. The bright bracelet proudly on display for anyone to see.

“Doll, there were many times I was lost and you found me. There were days which were heavy, and you picked me up and lightened my heart. Through it all, you were always there for me.”

His voice wavers a little and you can’t deny the water pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“And I know that will never change. I promise to love you as you are and to respect our differences while still supporting and encouraging you. Whatever the future holds, know that I will stand by you and love you. Through pain and passion, sorrow and hope. Through death and through life I will love you. Everyday and with whatever we face I promise to love you because I am tied to you.”

You have to drop one of his hands to wipe away your tears as you smile up at him. Then you say your own vows. And finally after the classic I do’s, the officiant says, “You may now kiss your bride.”

The two of you lock eyes before he swoops down and captures your lips within his own. One of his hands wraps around your waist and holds you steady. The crow erupts in shouts and glee for the two of you but neither of you care. He leans back and you both just smile at one another for a while, both holding the widest grins you have ever had in your entire life.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too.” You say back.

Later in the night, as the two of you sway, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and head on his chest, the final words in his vow finally make sense. You play with the string bracelet on his wrist.

“Tied to you huh? You were proud of that one, weren’t you?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Was it obvious?”

“Dork.”

He smiles. “But I’m your dork.”

“Oh my god!” You sigh, “James Buchanan Barnes,” landing a poke to his chest to emphasize your point, “you are the most cheesiest, handsomest, loveable dork out there.” You stand on your tiptoes to catch a kiss from him. “And you're all mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes yes, I know. “Lordy what the heck? Why are you writing for Bucky?” Well this is a birthday gift for my friend who loves Bucky, so yeah. 

Disclaimer!!! I will not write for Bucky normally!!! This was purely a gift!!!

But please, if you liked it, consider reblogging or leaving a comment, I love hearing what you all have to say! (And maybe y’all can convince me to write for him more. Idk, I’m not promising anything.) 

Love, Lordy :) 

Masterlist

Everything tags: @jedi-jesi​ @along-the-lines-of-space​ @madsvano4 @golfmarshal​

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- please fill out the form below or just give me a holler! :) 

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[blindchannelimagines]

SOFTIES

JOEL

Joel is kinda bratty when he's in the mood for cuddles. He just starts poking you out of nowhere, repeating your name until you finally give up and give him what he wants. You glare at him and he pouts with widen, puppy eyes.

"If you really loved me, you would have snuggled with me sooner", you hear him mumble against your neck and you smack his head playfully. He's very clingy and playful. Even when he's cuddled next to you, he's hyperactive. One moment he's kissing your neck while his long fingers linger on your waist, the other he’s on top tickling you.

Moments of peace simply do not exist when you're with him.

JOONAS

Joonas is a big softie, and he loves it when you take the initiative and show him affection. He wants to hold you close to his chest and never let you go. Expect deadly embraces if you decide to pull away.

However, if you run your fingers through his messy curls, he might start purring like a kitten. His cheeks are so soft, you can't help but squish them together and smooch his plump lips repeatedly. He says he wants to watch a movie, but he ends up staring at you the whole time. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet, since those cerulean eyes perfectly show how much you mean to him.

ALEKSI

Aleksi demands attention by giving you intense stares. He finds it difficult to vocalize his emotions, so he looks at you from across the room, hoping that you'd catch the hint. And you do. You find it adorable actually. Once you sit down next to him on the couch, he rests his head on your thighs without an exchange of words. He closes his eyes and buries his face into the softness of your flesh, as his long, black curls cover his face completely. Annoyed by that, you brush gently his locks off his cheek and tuck them behind his ear. He hums, pleased by your action, and leaves a soft kiss on your skin.

TOMMI

Having Tommi as your concert buddy definitely has its perks. When luck is not on your side, you're forced to watch the show from the back row. You're not as tall as Tommi, so you groan in frustration when someone taller than you blocks the view. You could ask them to move a bit to the side once, but you can't keep bothering them.

"Hop on my shoulders," Tommi says loud enough for you to understand. You widen your eyes in confusion and embarrassment, but you don't get the time to decide that Tommi is already on his knees right next to you. Before climbing on his back, you grab his face and press a firm kiss on his forehead. "I'm so lucky to have you!" You scream and he looks away, smirking.

OLLI

Olli waits for you to come home from work every evening. Needless to say that he would do anything in order to spoil you, from making sure that you're well fed to listening to your rants whenever you're in a bad mood. A delicious smell fills your nostrils everytime you step into your house as Your Man likes to explore new recipes, just to surprise you. You appreciate what he does for you and you wonder how you managed to live without him.

"One day I'll return the favor, just you wait!" you say as you rest your back against his chest in the bathtub, letting him rub your scalp with skilled, soapy fingers. You two always take a bath together before bed.

"You don't have to," Olli's genuine laugh echoes through bathroom and you smile, "I cherish your happiness as if it was the most precious thing".

NIKO

Niko gets extremely touchy-feely when he's tired. He could spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing with you in bed. Your presence reassures him, it recharges him with positive energies. When you sit up on the bed, he notices how fascinating your messy hair looks. He reaches his hand out to stroke your locks absentmindedly. Without thinking, he mumbles quietly to himself "so soft".

You turn around to look down at him and smile, "wanna braid it?" He returns the smile and nods, sitting up as well. You grab the hairbrush from your nightstand and hand it to him.

"You know how to do it, right?" you smirk and take the opportunity to steal a kiss from his lips.

"Of course I know how to do it, my grandma taught me! She taught me different styles as well," he replies with a hint of pride and your chest aches for how cute he sounds.

"Alright then, I trust you".

[paellaplease]

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary:  revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

   In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished. 

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass. 

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open. 

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame. 

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass." 

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed. 

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time. 

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes." 

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?" 

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver. 

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days  you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it. 

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep. 

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t. 

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people. 

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back. 

You needed a distraction. 

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived. 

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back. 

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar. 

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun. 

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade. 

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company." 

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary. 

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone. 

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down. 

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud. 

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back. 

 "I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room. 

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing." 

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air. 

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases. 

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips. 

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened. 

Instead, he called out your name. 

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand. 

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours. 

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you. 

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek. 

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky. 

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin. 

[thatringboy]

Ganqing getting together Idol au? (Extra: Hanahaki disease and angsty, only if you want. Otherwise, fluff or angst or whatever is fine.)

Or

Just idol au with genshin characters, doesn't have to be anything in particular

ohmygods this one took so long to write and it was so worth it! love me some good angst and hanahaki disease up in this house!!!

Glaze Lilies in my Throat

Warnings: Hanahaki Disease, Blood, Hospitals

Characters: Keqing, Ganyu, Ningguang, Beidou

Ships: Gangqing, Background Beiqquang if you squint

Word Count: 12,758 (FIVE pages of google docs!)

Summary: Idol!Keqing finds herself falling fast and hard for her fellow dancer, Ganyu, but her pride keeps her from admitting her feelings. Until the petals in her throat start taking a toll on her career

The first time the purple haired girl noticed the petals, she just thought that they had fallen off of a bouquet she had received from a fan. Keqing assumed her throat was sore from the show she had completed, so she popped a cough drop in her mouth and quickly changed to head to dinner with the other girls in the group.

The restaurant they were at wasn’t anything too fancy, just a small hole in the wall place for their group, the Qixing, to meet up. The group’s center, Ningguang, knew the owner and was able to order milkshakes for everyone for free.

It was a pleasant outing. Keqing sat near the window side of the booth the women shared and quietly sipped her vanilla milkshake while the other members of the group discussed their performances. Ganyu slid into the seat next to her and pushed a straw into her own chocolate shake.

“Is everything alright? You look lost in thought, Miss Keqing.”

There was a sudden tightness in her throat, or something became lodged in her airways because Keqing began to cough into her elbow. “My apologies, I was just staring off into space. I am quite alright.”

Ganyu gave her a pleasant smile that made heat rise in her cheeks before turning to the rest of the group to join their conversation. Keqing quickly looked away and her eyes fell to her lap where the blue petals had fallen off of her sleeve. They were identical to the petals she had seen earlier that evening. Keqing was no fool, she instantly recognized what had brought the flowers and her eyes shifted back to Ganyu, who was laughing at Ningguang and her chocolate moustache.

She brushed the petals onto the floor with a cold expression. Out of sight, out of mind.

The petals plagued Keqing for a few more months after that night. They always appeared when Ganyu was near her, but all the idol did was tuck them away and began keeping a handkerchief on her person for when the blood started to come up with the flowers. She became used to the tightness of her throat and dryness of her mouth that accompanied her beating heart when Ganyu would clasp her hand between those slender fingers and stare at her with those large eyes. Everytime Keqing thought she would collapse from exhaustion, Ganyu would be there to pick her up and tell her to keep going. How could she not fall for such kindness?

After the petals began appearing, Keqing only allowed herself to be alone with Ganyu once in fear of making her feelings known. It was after a particularly long dance rehearsal and the other women left before they did. As they were cleaning up the practice room, a small photo fell out of Ganyu’s bag.

Keqing moved to pick it up, turning the paper over in her fingers. In the photo was a baby Ganyu sitting on the lap of an elegant woman with blue eyes and had her hair pinned up by an eerily familiar flower.

“Who is this woman?”

Ganyu glanced over at the picture. “My, that’s an old picture. I’ve told you how I was adopted as a child, right? That woman was my adoptive mother, Guizhong.”

“Was?” Keqing handed the photo back.

“Yes, was. She was a botanist who loved flowers. That one in her hair is a species she selectively bred for years before perfecting them. We called them ‘Glaze Lilies’. She was killed in a hit and run when I was twelve.”

So the flowers have a name. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Ganyu gave her a sweet smile. “Don’t be, she’s always with me, I can feel her guiding me.”

Keqing turned away before the blush could overtake her face and swallowed down the petals in her mouth. So cute!

The first time a blue bud appeared was during a meeting with her manager and Ningguang, who was also the owner of the group. Keqing shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the manager and albino woman looked over a report of her performances.

Ningguang cleared her throat. “Keqing, you know how much we love to have you in the group…”

Keqing felt the familiar tightness in her throat. She sat still and tried to swallow it down as Ningguang continued.

“However, your ratings have been going down recently. You have been leaving rehearsals early, and we’ve noticed the quality of your performances is suffering.”

Slowly, Keqing reached into the pocket of her skirt for a handkerchief as she felt the petals rise back up. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.

The manager made a sad face. “Keqing… if things don’t change, then we may need to replace you. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are now, I really don’t want to do this, but if you can’t put your previous energy into this work then maybe we need to go separate ways.”

Panic.

“No, no, I can do it!” Opening her mouth to protest was a bad idea. As soon as the words spilled from her lips, she doubled over in a fit of coughs, the scent of blood filling the room. Something larger than her usual petals dislodged itself from her throat and fell onto the floor between her and her bosses.

An unbloomed Glaze Lily pod with specks of blood tainting the innocent color bounced on the carpet and rolled next to Ningguang’s foot. She looked at Keqing’s face in horror. “Keqing…”

The purple haired girl got to her feet, covering her mouth with the tiny piece of fabric and bowed quickly, moving towards the door. “I-I’m sorry, I promise to get to practice on time and I will get my ratings back up!”

She only took two steps before falling to her knees in another fit of coughing. This time it was two pods, one halfway blooming. Ningguang called for the manager to call an ambulance before rushing to Keqing’s side, rubbing a soothing hand across her back.

The next few hours were a blur. Keqing barely remembers an ambulance arriving, being carted away with a tube down her throat, a couple doctors examining her before letting her rest. When she became coherent, Keqing was able to sit up despite the oxygen tube in her nose and became aware of a doctor waiting for her.

“Miss Keqing, how are you feeling?”

She opened her mouth to talk, but it was the most sore it had ever felt. She tapped her neck to let the doctor know her speech status. He nodded and produced a pen and pad for her to write on.

“I feel terrible, but not like I’m about to die.”

He read over the paper. “Are you aware of what The Hanahaki Disease is?”

“Of course.” She penned down.

“How long have you been in this predicament?” His calm eyes went back to the pad.

Keqing thought for a second before writing again. “Five months.”

“Five months.” He read outloud softly. “Do you know who brought the flowers to you?”

“No.” She lied. She had known from the very beginning, but a glance out of the glass window of the room’s door revealed that her entire group was anxiously waiting outside. There was no need to drag anyone else into her problem.

The doctor took a deep breath. “Miss Keqing, you are aware of what the removal of the flowers entails if you cannot find the person responsible for these feelings, correct?”

“Yes.” Loss of the memories of that person. From beyond the door, Ganyu peeked through the window with a worried expression. Behind her was Ningguang frantically pointing at her head with wide eyes and her lips in a thin, focused line. The doctor followed Keqing’s eyes to the door and as he did, Ningguang instantly stopped and went back to looking as regal as ever.

The doctor chuckled dryly. “You know, I can’t do my job if you lie to me.”

He got up and moved to let Ganyu into the room as Keqing began to scribble down words in a panic. The doctor opened the door and gestured to the chair beside the bed before shutting the door behind the other idol. Ganyu nervously sat down and Keqing stopped writing, not meeting her eyes.

Ganyu reached out to touch Keqing’s hand, but stopped. “We were all so worried when Miss Ningguang told us you had been hospitalized. I’m not sure what I would have done if something had happened--” She caught Keqing staring at her with wide eyes and silenced herself with the lightest shade of pink dusting her cheeks.

Keqing pulled her knees to her chest to have a hard surface to write on. “Did she tell you what I have?”

Ganyu shook her head. “No, but Miss Ningguang gave a weird look.”

Ah, the ever observant Ningguang and the blissfully unaware Ganyu. She scratched down another sentence. “There’s something I should probably tell you…”

Ganyu read the notepad, whispering the words to herself in that way that made Keqing fall harder and nodded. “I’m all ears, err, eyes?”

Keqing flipped to a new page. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and her hands shook a little. She was a fool for even considering having the flowers removed surgically. She held the pen over the paper and began writing everything down. From the night at the milkshake bar, the petals in her throat being the same kind of flowers Ganyu’s mother made, how Ganyu’s smile made her heart flutter and her stomach twist in a way that she never wanted to end. The flowers had stolen her voice, so she wrote it all, pouring her heart into every word like the disease would kill her that very night.

When she finished, Keqing quickly shoved the notepad to Ganyu and turned away with a red face, not wanting to see the other’s reaction to the written love confession.

Ganyu read every word slowly, tears pooling in her blue and purple eyes and blush burning her cheeks at the raw emotions before her. When she finished, she simply held out her free hand for the pen, which Keqing practically threw at her. She wanted her bedsheets to swallow her up like that scene from Nightmare on Elm Street.

The blue haired woman wrote something quickly and handed both the pen and pad back to Keqing. She took it and read over the short message left at the bottom of her confession.

“I feel the same way.”

In an instant, Keqing felt her throat open and she took a loud gulp of air, making Ganyu jump in surprise. Keqing began to laugh as she grabbed Ganyu’s wrist and pulled her onto the bed and into a tight hug. “Yes yes yes yes yes! I can finally breathe!”

She realized how close Ganyu’s face was to her own and let go quickly, the color returning to her face ten-fold. “Sorry about that.”

Ganyu remained sitting on the bed, covering her face in her own hands. “It’s fine, really!”

“Hah! What a couple of dorks!” Called a deep voice from the doorway.

The two on the bed snapped their heads towards the sound to see Ningguang grabbing the intruder, a tall burly woman with an eyepatch, by her ear and dragging her out of the room. “Out with you! I called you here to provide moral support, not gawk at my dancers!”

Ganyu giggled. “That’s Miss Beidou for you, I suppose.”

Keqing looked at the discarded notepad and those five words scrawled in neat handwriting.

“I feel the same way.”

Keqing is a woman of sound mind. She thinks through her actions and keeps to herself when situations do not concern her. She keeps her head down and doesn’t make rash decisions. So of course she surged forward to plant a kiss on Ganyu’s cheek before pulling back in horror of her own actions and covering her lips with her hand.

Ganyu turned red as her hand went up to touch the spot Keqing had kissed. “That was sweet, thank you.”

“You said on the paper that you feel the same way I do about you so I just thought--” Her panicked rambling was silenced by Ganyu moving closer to her and gently pulling her hands from her mouth with a nervous smile.

“I’m not very good with words like you, Miss Keqing, so sorry that my confession was so bland.”

Keqing blinked. “That’s what you’re caught up on?! And enough with the formalities, you just cured my Hanahaki Disease and saved me from getting fired!”

“Wait, fired? I thought Miss Ningguang pulled you into the manager’s office yesterday for tea… were you about to be let go?”

“Probably!”

Ganyu playfully poked Keqing’s oxygen tube in her nose. “Then the flowers did you a favor.”

“THEY WERE THE REASON I WASN’T PERFORMING WELL IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

The blue haired woman took Keqing’s hands again. “And now they’re gone, for good this time?”

Keqing blinked once more. “‘This time’? What do you mean, ‘this time’--!”

Ganyu panicked and surged forward to kiss her. Keqing, not believing what was happening, halted all protests and sunk into it, ignoring the plastic tube in her nose and letting the scent of vanilla fill her senses.

When they broke away, it felt like an eternity had passed, but it wasn’t long enough, so they kissed again, and again and again until they were panting for air and the doctor returned with an amused smile. All thoughts slipped from Keqing’s usually buzzing mind and she found herself only focusing on the woman before her; the one she cared so much about for so long that flowers bloomed in her throat. With Ganyu by her side, Keqing didn’t have a care in the world. With Ganyu by her side, Keqing knew she was going to be just fine.

[manikas-whims]

A Tantalizing Surprise

[Read on AO3]

for Kanej Week (@kanejweek) Day 5: Love (domesticity)

It took around eight years and a lot of mutual support to achieve this level of intimacy. But he was glad they never gave up..

• Friend 1: write Inej in a silk dress and some sexy Kanej moment Friend 2: No! Write injured Kaz being patched up by Inej Me: *an unbiased friend* mixes both requests into this fic ~♥ • I headcanon Liddies being a gang run by women :)

Kaz Brekker utterly despised private parleys. Majority of the time they were a farce. Excuses crafted in order to get him alone and put an end to his reign forever. Everytime a haughty barrel boss offered him a drink or a condescending mercher invited him for dinner, it wasn't for the sake of striking amiable business deals with him. But to drive a knife through his rotten heart or shoot a bullet into that scheming head of his.

And yet he had agreed to meet the leader of the Liddies in a small coffee house on the bustling streets of the East Stave. They were stirring up too much ruckus and if left unchecked any longer, they'd embolden every other gang to go against the Dregs. Dirtyhands couldn't let that happen, now could he?

As suspected, no pleasantries were exchanged. The door was jammed shut immediately upon his arrival.

Their lieutenant, a burly, middle-aged brunette, attacked first. She tried smashing her wooden bat into his face but thankfully Anika blocked in time with a crowbar. Two other females followed, swinging rustic metal pipes at him which he managed to counter with his cane. Roeder was struggling on the other side, engaged in a one-on-one with their spider.

"This ends tonight, Brekker." Their leader howled from her perch atop a stool. "Barrel needs a queen."

"Barrel already has one." He responded calmly.

"The little whore? The one who's barely in this city?" she grinned sharply, getting up.

"Careful." His gaze turned steely and his gloved fingers flexed tensely onto the crow head of his cane. "I can gut you and your ladies for insulting my Wraith."

"I'd like to see you try." She sneered, madly lunging at him with her bare hands.

He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

The fight lasted for an hour. Liddies finally ran off when more Dregs arrived on the scene and broke down the coffee house's door.

Kaz dictated his gang to double the security around the Crow Club and his other establishments just in case. He then dug his fingers into his right leg in hopes of quelling a little of the ache there as he dragged himself back to his place. Not the slat anymore but a luxurious mansion on the Geldstraat. He had purchased it under a pseudonym after Councilman Hoede had passed away three years ago.

Blame Wylan for making him waste his kruge on a deadman's house. Though the dark wood walls and coffered ceilings looked amazing upon his first visit, he did get a few things renovated. Such as converting the dilapidated Grisha workshop into an ordinary shed and the addition of wild geraniums to the vast variety of flowering plants in the gardens.

Despite his habits, he pulled out a key that he kept within the hidden pocket on the left side of his coat and swiftly unlocked the large, black, entrance gates. The next few minutes of the long walk through the front stone pavement didn't feel regal, atleast not to his leg. He retrieved another key upon reaching the main doors. It was an odd experience every time— to enter a house this big without utilizing his skills in lock-picking.

He didn't stop to admire the blown glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling or the stolen DeKappel displayed mockingly on the opposite end of the hall. He simply braced himself for the walk up the long staircase leading towards the more private quarters of the mansion.

His steps came to a halt only when he reached the master bedroom. And that too, not because it had been his destination all along but because he felt her presence.

He shook his head in disbelief. Maybe six months of being apart were taking a toll on him, playing tricks with his senses. Or maybe it was just an effect of blood loss due to the cut he'd taken during the fight with the Liddies.

He turned the knob and entered, the room same as ever. A bookshelf tucked in the left corner from the door, a vanity table with a full-length mirror right next to it; a door leading to the balcony and another door to the bathroom on the other end. And of course, the king-size bed atop which his eyes found her tantalizing form, aglow under the golden flame of the dimly burning lone candle.

Kaz regarded her silently. Her lithe frame was covered in a purple, silk nightgown that left barely anything to his imagination. Or rather, it was exactly the sight he envisioned every night. An ideal reverie where he pulled her onto his lap and kissed down the delicious curve of her neck. A fantasy where he relished in her whispers of his name. A fantasy where they did all the unholy things they're capable of now. A fantasy he had been yearning for yet kept locked in the darkest recesses of his twisted mind.

But this was different. This woman in his bed had longer hair and was far more breathtaking than any imagery he could will his mind to conjure. This was real. She was real.

"Saints!" She slid off the bed. "Kaz, what happened?"

Yes, she was real.

And she had chosen an interesting outfit for their reunion.

But it was unusual of her to dock in Ketterdam and not send a runner to let him know. Not to mention, she had somehow managed to sneak into their mansion without any keys.

"You're hurt!"

He scoffed at her concern and proceeded to discard his coat. After all the times they've fought and bled together, she should be used to witnessing him a little roughed up.

He peeled off his gloves with methodical ease and tossed them onto the table. Then he tentatively reached for one of her hands, his thumb stroking along the pulse in her wrist. There was no harm in confirming she was real and alive.

"Welcome back, Wraith."

She freed her wrist, completely ignoring his greeting, and placed her palms over his stubbled cheeks. Fortunately, no waves lapped up his skin. So he let her turn his face this way and that to check for any signs of injuries. When she found none, she smiled in relief and pulled his face down so their lips could meet. His arms immediately snaked around her waist. And he was glad her only reaction was a soft sound of contentment, not tensing or vanishing in his hold. It took around eight years and a lot of mutual support to achieve this level of intimacy. But he was glad they never gave up and worked together to get accustomed to one another's touch.

The contact overwhelmed him everytime, in a good way of course. It was exhilarating to be able to brush his lips against hers. A common gesture for most couples but a very big accomplishment for them. Just like everything else.

Everytime they shed a piece of their armor, touched longer, touched more, they counted it as a new milestone. He was thankful to their patience and to whichever of Inej's saints had blessed them for their persistent efforts.

The kiss deepened with every passing moment, all those months of separation provoking their dormant desires. But as soon as his tongue slid past her mouth, he felt a twinge of pain in his abdomen and broke away. "Fuck! What the hell, Wraith!?"

In trailing her hands along his torso, she had accidentally discovered the cut wound on the left side of his lower abdomen. She glared down at the small dot of blood staining his clothes. "You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation!"

He laughed at the furrow of her brows as she pushed him back until he was seated in a chair. "Takes one to know one."

He heard her huff before she disappeared inside the bathroom and returned seconds later with a roll of bandage, cotton swabs, and a disinfectant.

The blade of the knife had torn past both his vest and shirt but fortunately, barely grazed his skin. The cut wasn't deep or life-threatening, only seeping slow trickles of blood. However, that didn't stop his fiercely gentle partner from worrying. She began undoing the buttons on his vest and in the heat of the moment, he joked. "Someone is eager."

This time she glared at him directly and resumed her task. She was cautious in shrugging off the vest. Even more whilst removing his sweaty shirt.

As soon as the disinfectant-soaked cotton pad grazed his wound, he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Care to explain why I wasn't informed of your arrival?" He gritted out through the light haze of pain. He wasn't mad. But had he known, he would've cleared his schedule for her. Denied that parlay altogether and avoided being injured.

Her hands hesitated in cleaning the blood. "I wanted to surprise you."

Now his brows quirked.

"And was this part of the surprise?" He stared at the thin slip of nightdress snug on the curves of her beautiful body. His voice lowered an octave. "You put this on for me?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, a small action he had noticed her doing when in contemplation. "My intention was to doll-up for the King of the Barrel."

He shook his head, tugging on the hem of her dress. "Seems to me the Queen of the Seas was intent on arousing me with her alluring silks."

She punched his shoulder lightly. "You're bruised and bleeding and this is what you think?"

"Inej," He spoke earnestly, his ardent gaze focused on her as she continued bandaging him, "I always think about you."

"Aside from when I'm out there making money." He added as an afterthought.

She giggled.

He waited until she was done tying the last knot of the bandage to stand up. His fingers disappeared beneath her dress, glided tenderly over the flesh of her thighs in the moment he lifted her up. Her legs naturally came to wrap around his waist and she looked at him. "Kaz?"

He responded with a soft, lingering kiss before pulling back, his breath fanning her lips. "Still in the mood to surprise me?"

She nodded, her eyes averted shyly for once as he carried her towards the shower.

[felixfelicisfics]

More Than An After Thought (James X Reader)

Summary: James and the Reader have been friends for years. After years of the Reader silently pining, James asks the Reader on a date. However the Reader can’t get over the years James spent chasing after Lily. What changed? Why now?

Requested By: @msmb​

Word Count: 1,998

TW: None

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fic on this account! Remember requests are always open! Thanks for reading! <3

---

The patchy noise of a playing record fills the room. You bob about while tidying up your hair and putting the final details on your outfit. You step in front of the mirror and take a look at yourself. You smear a bit of rouge on your cheeks and the tip of your nose and gingerly to your lips. You catch yourself humming along to the old jazz record James had gifted you. 

James had been your friend of many years. The two of you knew the very worst and best parts of each other and it was a rare sight to catch one of you walking about the halls of Hogwarts without the other. “Potter and L/N are entirely inseparable” your classmates would say “They practically share a mind”. And you did. That is, besides one thing. You had been pining over James since your second year. He, however, did not reciprocate those feelings until recently. For as long as you, and well everyone in your year, could remember James only had eyes for Lily Potter. Damn that Lily. She was nice enough but you couldn’t help but be jealous of her, and more particularly how James looked at her.

You shake the thought of Lily from your mind and continue touching up your final ensemble, for James was to be at your dorm any minute to pick you up. He had, rather surprisingly, asked you out to dinner last friday in Potions specifying that it was “a date kid of dinner”. You were completely overjoyed when first invited. However, with time to think you’ve become suspicious of James’s true intentions. Right as the clock hit seven o’clock a knock came at your dormitory door. A knock that was surely James. 

“One moment!”

You run to slip on your shoes and grab your bag. James’s slight chuckle can be heard on the other side of the door.

“C’mon Y/N! We said seven. You’re usually more punctual than this.” There's an air of teasing in his voice that your nerves mask.

You throw the door open and apologetically smile. James is dressed far more formal than usual in a button up tucked into a pair of plaid slacks. He holds a modest bouquet of delicate flowers. He stops and looks at you like a deer in the headlights. 

“You look great Y/N. Absolutely stunning.” He smiles nervously.

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself”

There’s a silence, which is uncommon between you two. Finally, James clears his throat and hands the bouquet to you. 

“Here, these are for you. I overheard you telling Remus you like the ones that grow outside the Quidditch field.”

You take the flowers and smile, your worries fleeing, and look back up to James.

“These are wonderful, thank you.”

You set the flowers inside your dorm before meeting James at the door once again.

“So where are we off to?” you ask.

“That’s a surprise.” James grins and holds out his hand for you to take.

Your heart pitter patters every so slightly as you take his. It’s warm and strong yet his grip is delicate and gentle. The two of you descend the dorm stairs and weave through the passages of Hogwarts until James opens a door and the sun pours over your face. There, on the grounds near the Black Lake sits an extravagant, candlelit picnic near the edge of the Black Lake. A gasp escapes you and you look excitedly at James. When your eyes meet his lit up face you see the wide smile plastered on his face. The joy and excitement practically drips from him when he notices how content you look. You both walk out towards the picnic blanket.

“James. This is so sweet. Did you do all this?”

“I had a little help. I bribed the house elfs to let me use the kitchen. It wasn’t easy but I finally promised them that Sirius and I would stop taking eggs from the kitchen to throw at Snape.”

“You really ought to stop that y’know. You’ll get expelled soon enough”.”

“Nah ol’ Sniffleous Snape wouldn't go to Slughorn and tell.”

“If you say so.” You roll your eyes at James’s mischievous nature. “So what all do we have here?” 

You gaze at the quilt topped with a half a dozen mini platters and small containers of delectable food. And lying in the middle, the crown jewel of it all, lyes a pitiful cake decorated with strawberries and sprinkles. The both of you sit opposite to each other and look at the feast James had put together. 

“Well let’s see we have apple tarts and some sandwiches here. A couple of boxes of chocolate frogs, and a couple of ciders. Oh! And then some chips. Yeah. Ah and the cake. You like strawberries, yeah?”

“Yeah. Strawberry cake is wonderful.”

“Well don’t wait on my account go ahead.” James chuckles and hands you a plate.

You take it and begin to fill your plate with the delectable foods before you. James serves himself as well and while doing so you catch each other’s glance on and off, which would make both of your cheeks ever so slightly hot. The slight breeze tickles your skin. The sun has nearly set and the floating candles illuminate your romantic picnic. You glance up to catch James eye. His skin and eyes glow in the firelight. Somehow he looked even more handsome in this light. His eyes travel over you, as if climbing your body to reach your eyes. You feel the steady, strong rhythm of your heart. He draws closer to you, leaning in. 

Your heart begins to race. You have waited so very long for this. It feels as though his lips are miles away and so very close all at the same time. Your mind races through all the times you’ve thought of how this would go. All the scenarios, the daydreams, the what ifs. How have you known your feelings for James this long and not have shown him. And then it hits you. 

Lily.

For years James has fancied Lily. You watched him flirt and gaze and fawn over her. You gave him advice, you listened to him go on and on about how ‘It’s finally it Y/N! I think I know how to win Lily over’. You watched him buy her flowers, and call her beautiful, and plan her picnics… just like this one.

You pull yourself away and pick at your cake, avoiding James’s confused look. There’s a moment of silence before you hear James clear his throat. 

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” James asks.

Before you can begin to think to stop yourself you ask,”Why me?”

“What?” 

This time you look up to meet his eyes. Not missing a beat you ask once again,

“Why me, James?”

“I don’t understand what you-”

“What did Lily turn you down so you figured you might as well not waste the food?”

James furrows his brow and sets down his plate.

“What? Where is this coming from Y/N?”

“Why me James? What’s with the sudden interest? What, you need a rebound because I’m not here for that okay. So just tell me what’s actually going on.”

“Y/N I don’t-”

Tears well up ever so slightly. A weight in your chest sinks down to your stomach. You should’ve known. Why would he chase Lily so long and suddenly magically have an interest in you. It’s impossible, childish even to consider it true. You’re simply nothing more than a rebound, leftovers, a second choice. 

“I’m sorry. This was a mistake I gotta go.” you sniffle before standing up.

“Y/N wait! You don’t understand.”

James stands and grabs your hand, gently but firm. You face away from him so he can’t see the singular tear running down your hot face. You freeze in your spot. A chill of embarrassment washes over your body as you feel his eyes on you. 

“Now damn Y/N will you just wait a second!” He says.

You want so badly to be anywhere but here. With anyone but him. But a part of you clings to the pleading in his voice. 

“James just get it over with. Stop fucking with me.”

James takes a deep breath and takes a step closer to you. 

“What I was going to say, before you decided to run off, was that I don’t want to mess this up. You and I, we’ve always had this connection. And I know you feel it too. Everytime we’re together and our hands brush or you meet my gaze a little longer than usual my heart flutters. But I cast it aside because I didn’t want to ruin our relationship as well as I assumed you didn’t feel the same way. Y/N, you’re my best friend; but recently I’ve come to realise it’s always been a little more than that.”

“But James, what about Lily?”, you ask.

“Lily and I will never happen. She has no interest in me and quite honestly the more I chased the more I lost interest in her and… fell more in love with you.” 

You can feel James’s gaze grow stronger on you. You whip your head to face him, releasing your hand from his grasp in the process. 

“Oh I gotcha, so Lily’s off the table now so you’ll just have to have the leftovers. Is that what I am to you? An afterthought?”

“No, Y/N, of course not! You’re just there for me! I’ve been so stupid, flailing myself about at someone who doesn’t give a damn about me when right in front of me is you, Y/N. You make me smile and laugh so hard my throat hurts. You come to everyone of my Quidditch games and cheer with all your might. You call me out and keep me in check when I go too far. Your eyes make me feel like you can read me like an open book which terrifies me but in a strange sense makes me feel seen and loved. I love you Y/N. You’re not a second choice. There’s no bloody competition when it comes to you.”

It’s silent for a moment as James looks to you for a response. You’re stunned by his burst of eloquence. You take a step towards him and a fear grows in his eyes. As you finally reach him you wrap your hand to the back of his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss.

He kisses you back immediately. The kiss felt desperate and yearning; as both of you run your hands tenderly to cup each other’s faces.  Everything in your body feels like static. Excitement flows throughout you. It’s exactly as you imagined, quite better actually. James’s lips are soft and his kiss is warm and smooth. You feel years of pining and frustration melt away in the kiss.

James pulls away softly, “Now, I believe there’s a very romantic and tasty picnic waiting for us. If you’d like to join me?”

You smile, your worries dead and gone, “Absolutely.”

James takes a step back and holds out his hand for you to take. You take it and the both of you step back onto the quilt and resume your date, now giggling and recalling all the times you wanted to tell one another about your hidden feelings. The stories flow back and forth til the sun sets right over the Black Lake. And with the sunset the both of you blew out the candles and lied on the quilt, full from the meal, and gazed at the stars in a comfortable silence. Completely content. And still utterly overjoyed by your first kiss. James intertwines your hand in his, drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah James?”

“This is so much better than being friends.”

“I think so too, James.”

[moonofiron]

Ok I just wanted to write a really short and sweet smutty piece for ShikaTema. But I have failed miserably. I am too attached to Naruto-verse and all the characters in general. (Like, I'm so attached that I can't even read or watch most of NaruHina/SasuSaku smut - it feels WRONG).

There are a few after thoughts regarding this piece, too. I really enjoyed writing this. I really love ShikaTema and they were my first OTP. Hell, I didn't even know that the terms OTP or shipping existed when I started rooting for them. So, this is super close to my heart ❤️ and ✨unedited✨. I legit wrote 8.4k words on my phone and my eyes are rolling on the ground right now.

Anime: Naruto Shippuden (Set in post-Shippuden and pre-Boruto-verse.)

Characters: Shikamaru Nara x Temari Scenes with Ino, Sasuke, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sai. Passing mention of Choji.

Genre: Fluff, angst, flirting, explicit sexual content 🥵, slight voyeurism, oral, raw sex

Word Count: 8.4k (yikes!)

Synopsis: Shikamaru has finally had enough of Temari’s incessant flirting

Rating: M

Minors, dni

Friends and family from all five villages had been invited to the annual Hanami Matsuri in Konoha. Hinata had invited some of Naruto's closest to their house for a brunch party before the matsuri started full swing. Hinata had cooked everything from scratch and Sakura and Ino had helped decorate her backyard with streamers and flowers. Everything looked immaculate and lovely. The boys were all specially thrilled to be getting together after such a long time.

"What a rowdy bunch," said Ino with a wide grin, a look of pride plastered on her face. Sakura grinned, too.

"Judgemental as always, Ino, I'll be joining em soon, ya know? Do you think I'm rowdy too, love? You're breaking my heart here." Shikamaru moved uncomfortably close to Ino's ear, making her squirm under his presence. He loved to lightly flirt with Ino and see her all flustered.

"Baaka janaai no? Take your charm elsewhere. Or I'm going to get Sai to beat you up one day."

"Hai hai, Ino Sensei," he winked at her and made his way to the bar to grab a beer and light a cigarette.

Sakura, visibly shaken by Shikamaru’s loose and flirtatious behaviour, grabbed Ino’s arm.

"What the hell was that, Ino?! Do...do you think he likes you?"

"What? No way. It's just an inside joke. He was the one who helped me get together with Sai, you know?"

After a long moment of admirinng the friendship she shared with Shikamaru, Ino spoke up.

"I just wish that someday he'll do something in his own i nterests, too."

"What do you mean?"

“There's someone. Loves her like a fucking dog. Like weak-in-the-knees-slash-worship-her kinda love, you know?"

"I just can’t imagine Shikamaru in the way you're describing him."

"Yeah, I get that. He really is tough to break into. Anyway, this isn't for me to share, Sakura. Let's have some of those karaage Hinata has prepared. I can't get enough of them."

Shikamaru leaned against the bar, craving a minute to himself. He wished Choji could have been there but he was away on a mission. Everyone was at the other end of the backyard or inside the house. He looked up at the sky, admiring the clouds slowly moving towards nowhere in particular. Before he could pop open the beer bottle, he noticed Temari entering with Kankuro and Gaara.

"Tsk, mendukse," he muttered under his breath.

He wasn't expecting to see Temari today. He really wasn't in the mood to be on his best behavior. The last mission had taken away a lot from him. He hadn't slept properly and he was tired. He wanted to just have a good time with the gang, maybe play some cards and get drunk out of his mind. But there she was, bright and beautiful in her stubbornness as always, making Shikamaru's heart sink and flutter all at the same time. He felt himself tighten up when she caught him looking at her.

"Hey! Shikamaru! How've you been?" she waved and shouted from across Naruto's backyard.

He waved back and put on an awkward smile.

She was walking towards him slowly. He noticed the slightly exaggerated sway in her hips and felt himself steadily losing breath. He kept his beer bottle on the table beside him and put his hands in his pockets as he waited for her to reach him.

”Hello, Temari. Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Oh..? Why not?"

"I don't know. I thought only Kankuro would be here for the Matsuri," he inhaled the smoke from his cigarette deeply before tapping it.

"Well, I am here. And you'll show me around, yes?"

He stayed silent for a moment too long and his eyes pierced into hers. He finally broke her gaze and moved his head to the side to blow out the smoke.

"If I'm free, I'll grab ya."

"What do you mean if you're free? Is that how you treat your guests, Shikamaru-kun?" Temari tugged at his t-shirt and teased slightly, pouting at him, never leaving his gaze. She loved to see Shikamaru get awkward around her. The green of her eyes had him weak in his knees again.

Shikamaru looked down at his t-shirt bunched up in her delicate hands. She was mindlessly moving her thumb in circles against his chest. He felt a flash of an indescribable feeling and something inside him broke loose.

He held her arm and pulled her dangerously close. Temari's eyes widened and she let out an audible gasp.

"I know how to treat a guest like you very well, Temari," he spoke in a low, hoarse voice, his lips barely inches away from hers.

"I... I ...Shikamaru... What..what are you doing Everyone... someone could be watching. What would they think?"

"Hmm ..what would they think, Temari?" Shikamaru spoke in a tone so cold that Temari felt a shiver go down her spine.

"Let me go, you idiot."

He gripped her arm harder, grit his teeth, and shoved his thigh between her legs. She let out a soft moan and he felt her back arch ever so slightly.

"Shik.." He suddenly let her go, leaving her too flustered to collect herself. He picked up his beer and grabbed another another one before walking towards everyone else.

"What's up, Kankuro?" he said loudly.

"Same old, genius," Kankuro patted him on the back as he took the beer bottle from him.

When Shikamaru reached the others gathered around the table, he noticed that Temari was still standing at the bar. Her hands were balled into tight fists, and from the rise and dip of her shoulders he could tell she was breathing deeply. He looked away and stopped paying attention to her for fear that he'll start coming to terms with what he had just done. And, he wasn't looking forward to that.

Shikamaru avoided Temari throughout the brunch but always caught her stealing glances at him. He could see the smirk on her face everytime she got a chance to be near him. He was losing his patience with the woman. She was deliberately brushing her hands against his. She was finding ways of leaning over him to grab food or drinks, brushing her hair against his face. Everytime she got up from the table they were all huddled around, playing poker, she made sure she lightly brushed his groin with her ass. Getting through the brunch proved to be frustrating at worst and left him breathless at best.

Everyone started leaving slowly, like people often do. They said their goodbyes and hugged and promised to do this again sometime soon. When Temari and her brothers left, Shikamaru let out a sigh of relief. Everyone had left except him and Sasuke.

"I see something's brewing in your pants, ahem, I mean your brain, you bastard," Naruto joked out loud.

"Hai hai, she's going to be the death of me." Shikamaru leaned his head back on the chair. His eyes followed a lone cloud.

"Well, then, you shouldn't have given her a taste of you like that at the bar, ya know?" Sasuke smirked.

"I'm sick of your eyes seeing everything everywhere. Mendukse ne. Tsk." Shikamaru let out a puff of smoke.

"Don't worry, no one noticed you both doing whatever the fuck you were doing throughout. They were all drunk, anyway."

"Yeah, not worried. Alright, gotta do some stuff before the matsuri starts, boys. Jaana!"

Shikamaru walked out of Naruto’s and clutched the green clip he'd bought for Temari long back. He carried it everywhere in order to be prepared to give it to her should the occasion arise. Perhaps it was his way of having a little control over this situation. He started to make his way to his home but thought better of it and walked towards the inn he knew Temari was staying at. She always stayed there because of how pretty and secluded it was. It gave her a chance to be away from her two brothers.

When he reached, he paced back and forth. His nerves were catching up to him.

"What if she gets angry? What if she never talks to me again?" His mind was over-flowing with questions he had no answers to. Questions he didn’t want answers to.

He got tired of thinking through the details and just went ahead, fully aware that his actions didn't align with the kind of man he was. But, over the years he'd realised that this was one matter he couldn't rationalise. He couldn't plan or predict this. He couldn't fit it into a strategy or logic. All he knew for certain was that he came undone everytime Temari so much as looked at him. He found himself perched on the balcony of her room.

She was going for a bath. Once she entered the bath, Shikamaru jumped inside the room and made himself comfortable as he leaned against the shelf on the wall infront of the washroom. He blended in with the room, completely still and quiet, as he waited for Temari to come out. He just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see her again. Be near her, again.

He waited for about 20 minutes, his mind a wilderness amd tangle of multiple ways he would explain what he was doing in her room, before she stepped out. When she did, she was naked and drenched in water, a scenario he hadn’t thought through. The water droplets made her body glitter in the soft early-evening sunlight. Shikamaru involuntarily gasped and bit his lip. Despite himself, he scanned her top to bottom as she mumbled something to herself. She looked absolutely stunning. He wanted nothing more than to love her with his entire being. Something tugged hard at his insides, he felt a drunkenness swallow him whole.

"Ugh, I don't know why I always forget to take my towel in the bath, it's so cold, fuck" mumbled Temari to herself as she looked around for the towel. She had goosebumps all over her body from the cool air. She was running late for the Matsuri, too. Her yukata was not ironed yet. Her phone kept buzzing and all of it was driving her up the wall. To top it all, she couldn't stop thinking about how Shikamaru had shoved his thigh between her legs earlier. How less it had taken for her to just yield. In the chaos, she completely missed Shikamaru, comfortable beside the shelf, quietly admiring her.

She bent down to pick up the towel on wooden stool right next to the washroom door. "I can't believe the towel was here all along, tsk. Where is my mind today?"

As she started getting up, she found herself unable to move. Terror painted her face. Back muscle? Slipped disc? A hundred explanations ran through her head before something made her unclench her hand around the towel, making it fall on the floor. A force made her sit still on the stool. It made her spread her legs and move her hands to her nipples, pulling them, all against her will. She gasped at her own touch, bewildered. She struggled to break out of whatever the fuck was happening but her limbs wouldn't listen to her.

Shikamaru quitely walked towards her and stroked her face gently. He bent down, his lips just a hair's length from Temari's ears.

"Kaagemane no jutsu, sekko," whispered Shikamaru hoarsely.

"Sh..shikamaru..wha...what's the meaning of..." she felt a darkness shove itself down her throat. Shikamaru had used his shadows to bind her throat as well as stop her from speaking.

"You're going to sit tight and do exactly what I want you to." He knew Temari was utterly baffled and terrified. Her face made it very clear.

"I won't take you to the matsuri otherwise, Temari," smirked Shikamaru.

He could feel the heat from her body. He moved back, his eyes tracing each and every part of it.

"You're gorgeous, you know?" he said as he settled in a chair in front of her. Shikamaru noticed that Temari's soft breasts perked up involuntarily at his words. He spread his legs to mirror her. He wanted to appear collected and he lit a cigarette to calm himself down. His insides felt gooey. He slowly pulled out the shadow from her mouth so she could breathe.

"Feel better?"

Temari gagged and panted and slowly nodded, her chin was covered with her own drool. She looked like a dream, she looked absolutely unreal to Shikamaru. His hands itched, his breath faltered, and he could feel the hair on his neck stand up.

Too embarrassed and shocked and scared and aroused all at once, Temari looked away from Shikamaru's piercing eyes.

"Shi...Shikamaru..ple..please. What do you think you're doing? This is..." she spoke in a strong voice but Shikamaru could hear the slight tremble.

He lost his patience and cut her off meanly.

"What do you think you were doing at the brunch? Strutting around all pretty for me like that. Hmm?"

"For you?" Temari mustered the courage to bite back, her eyebrows rose.

Temari felt a deep blush rising in her cheeks when Shikamaru didn't move or say anything. He usually couldn't bear to look at her in the eyes for more than half a minute. But today, his gaze was unwavering.

After a momemt, Shikamaru took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice, a baritone she'd never heard escape his soft lips.

"You think I'm blind? You think I wouldn't notice, hmm? All that unintentional brushing against me? All that pouting and tugging at my t-shirt? Your ass grinding my cock everytime we squeezed through that corridoor? Your tits in my fucking face infront of everyone?"

He tried to calm himself down. He was aware he was going a bit too far.

"The way you leaned into me when I grabbed your arm? The way your nipples hardened underneath your thin dress? Your little moan, the subtle arch in your back when I shoved my thigh between your legs? The way your lips parted? The way your wet tongue almost darted out?"

Temari's cheeks were a burning red now. So, clearly, he had noticed. She was never sure with him. She knew he was perceptive but she'd been hinting since years now, and he had never ever made a move. Even though she'd caught a kind of hunger in his face a million times, she always thought she was making it up in her own head. Of course, she'd never been this explicit with her hints, but she only got the courage because of the way Shikamaru had handled her at the bar. A little teasing as revenge for getting a woman like her so flustered wouldn't hurt, she'd thought.

But, she also hadn't expected this kind of a reaction from Shikamaru. She really thought he would just be his usual awkward self. Shikamaru taking charge of the situation woke in her something that she didn’t understand . She was steadily growing moist under his watch, her thighs were slippery, and she was throbbing for his touch.

Was he doing this just to get back at her for all of her friendly flirting? Or was there something else she was missing? Had she really fallen for someone she didn't know at all?

She felt her head snap in Shikamaru's direction.

"Look at me," he grit his teeth.

She felt her left hand moving to her growing wetness and her right tugging at her own nipple. Shikamaru's small smile told her he was helplessly enjoying himself. She gasped and moaned uncontrollably as he made her rub her clit against her will.

"That's it, love, let me watch you rub yourself," he bit his lip. His eyes were filled with the same hunger she'd witnessed so many times before. So it was real. It had always been real. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

It took Shikamaru every ounce of strength and control to keep himself from just taking her right there and then. He was suppressing years of pent up frustration and desire. He was very hot and very bothered and his joggers were getting way too tight for him.

His jutsu made Temari touch herself exactly like how he'd imagined so many times before. He made her rub herself agonizingly slow, pinch her nipples hard, and then suddenly made her right hand drop to her throbbing cunt, too. He made her decrease the pressure on her clit and shove two fingers inside of herself.

Her moans filled the room and Shikamaru felt his face burn. She looked like a goddess. He wanted, so badly, to get on his knees and just lick her, feel the warmth of her thighs around his face, feel her gushing in his mouth. He wanted nothing but to love this woman with the entirety of his being. He ran his hands through his hair to focus himself and catch his breath.

Her eyes, a mixture of anger and love and arousal, hadn’t left his since he’d made her snap her head in his direction. He loved that she was standing up to him in her own way. His eyes hadn't left her body, her face, her fingers working in and around her cunt. His mouth watered and cock twitched at the sloppy noises her fingers and wetness made.

She begged for release. It took her a while but her arousal made her shed all fear or embarrassment. She'd found the comfort his presence always gave her, the usual sense of security she felt around him was back. His greed and hunger for her was painted on his face, clear as day.

"Fas...faster, ple...please Shika..I can't.." she breathed helplessly, her sentence punctuated by moans.

"Time for another finger, love," Shikamaru sucked in his lower lip as her finger moved at his will.

Temari felt a heat bloom in her core and her legs shivered from the intensity of it all.

As he made her fuck herself with three fingers, she suddenly felt her left hand move away from her clit and then come down crashing. She realised Shikamaru was making her slap her clit, not once, not twice, but repeatedly and in quick successions. She moaned out his name out of habit.

"Fuck, look at you moaning my name, you look so beautiful, Temari. My name on your lips like that, it's making me harder." He teased her in a silky voice.

Temari had lost all control by now. She was writhing as much as Shikamaru allowed her to, the stool under her was about give away, and her wrists ached from all the work Shikamaru was making her do.

"Shika...Shikamaru, I'm gonna.. I'm gonna..."

She suddenly felt her hands move away from her swollen cunt. She clenched around emptiness and throbbed for him, realising that he'd denied her any kind of release.

"Shikamaru, please, please... please..." she panted, sweaty and messy.

"Please what?"

"Pl...please let me..," she gulped. She was so embarrassed she was saying this out loud. Infront of him.

"Let you what?"

"Please, let me cum," she mumbled.

"Yeah? Look at the mess you've made, love. Do you want me to help you clean up?" His shadow made her head bend down to look at the pool she'd given birth to. Temari nodded lightly and that's all it took for Shikamaru to get on his knees and bring his mouth to her soft cunt. He kept her bound by his shadows so she couldn't move. He rested his calloused hands on her inner thighs and gave her a long lick all the way from her moist and throbbing opening to her cute little button of a clit. The voice that escaped her throat gave Shikamaru goosebumps.

"I love you," moaned Temari in a whisper.

Shikamaru's ears were now warm and beet red, his face buried harder between her thighs and his fingers dug into her skin. He loved her. God, he loved her so much. He loved every little thing she did, every noise that escaped her lips. Every time her body jerked from his touch, it sent his mind in a frenzy.

The cold metal of his earrings against her inner thighs made her shiver. His sharp hair tickled her. She moaned out his name again as he moved his tongue in and out of her quickly. He felt her clench around his tongue. He brought his thumb to her clit and rubbed it in quick and dirty circles, the metal of his rings cool and electrifying. He looked up at her face with the same hunger in his eyes that always made Temari skip a beat.

"Say, how many times have you moaned out my name like this, Temari?" he whispered and went back to giving her soft, gentle licks.

Temari blushed a beautiful pink again and bit her lip. She found it extremely hard to form a coherent sentence, the way his mouth and hands were handling her was perfect.

"I..I've ...I've lost...co..unfff..count."

He smiled against her skin and showered her wetness with kisses and nibbles. He inserted a finger as he lapped up her clit and felt her clench again, this time around his finger. He curled his finger and Temari let out a small whimper. He moved his finger in and out and slowly inserted a second and third one till she was panting, his thin and long tongue never ceasing to flutter around her clit.

"Shika...Shika I'm gonna..I'm gonna cum. Do...don't stop"

At this, Shikamaru ceased all movement. It took him immense control to leave her wanting like that, again. But, it had to be done. He didn’t understand why but he wanted her to beg, not hint anymore. He'd had enough of her innocent flirting and teasing and it was his turn to have her writhing before him.

"Are...are you serious!?" shouted Temari.

A loud gutteral sound escaped Temari's lips. She'd been edged twice in the last half an hour and she hated it. She hated that Shikamaru won't let her cum. But it felt so good. The way he looked at her, talked to her, touched her, it was all unbearable.

Shikamaru lightly traced her lips with his fingers and then shoved them in her mouth. She licked herself off his fingers hungrily and Shikamaru's cock rose, eliciting a small playful chuckle from Temari. He smiled back at her. His lips and chin glistened with Temari's slick. He licked it clean and then walked back to the chair. She throbbed for release but she could see Shikamaru had other plans.

Without further delay, Shikamaru picked up her towel and dried her hair as she sat still, bound by his jutsu. He dressed her up in her dark blue Yukata.

"Shikmaru, please, I won't be able to bear it," Temari said as Shikamaru tied her obi.

"Bear what?" he cooed in her ear and cocked his head innocently.

"You're a fucking bastard. How are you planning to do my hair? Obviously I can't step out like this." Temari fumed.

Shikamaru moved behind her as his shadows made her sit in front of the mirror. Her entire body ached from being controlled like a puppet for so long. She felt Shikamaru's fingers comb through her hair and her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes finally, she gasped in surprise at how beautiful she looked. Shikamaru had perfectly done up her hair.

She also noticed a green clip he'd slid in one of her pony tails. It was a delicate branch of leaves, studded with small embralds. She was standing in front of him now, her body pressed against his.

"Where and when did you learn to do a girl's hair?"

"Oh, I have a few daughters spread around town. Why? Jealous?" mocked Shikamaru.

Temari glared at him.

"The clip is beautiful. Thank you."

"It suits you. Brings out your eyes." He murmured, unable to stop himself from kissing her jaw. He mentally kicked himself for saying something so cheesy instead of a simple welcome.

"Let's go, I've to show you around the Hanabi Matsuri, no?"

"B..but, Shikamaru?"

"Hmm?" he asked as he trailed his fingers along her long neck.

"My..my panties...?" Temari was blushing so hard that Shikamaru couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. He loved being cocky with her.

"No panties today," he whispered and spanked her ass loudly, making her jump as much as she could while being bound with his jutsu.

Only when they reached the Matsuri did Shikamaru free her of his jutsu. Finally free of him, she could do whatever she wanted to. She wanted him right then and there. But, there were so many people around, it was as good as being tied up.

"I'll be right behind you, Temari," whispered Shikamaru as he lightly squeezed her ass in the crowd. She could feel her thighs slipping against each other as she walked uncomfortably. She was still a slobbering mess and all of this teasing wasn't helping. Shikamaru was his usual self, not a hint of discomfort in his voice.

They went from stall to stall, eating and chatting, meeting up with everyone when Shikamaru caught her looking intently at a pair of kunai. She was caressing the blades and the handle, appreciating the craft.

"I can carve your name on it, too!" said the seller.

"Oh really? That's amazing!"

"What are you looking at?" Shikamaru leaned on the table full of decorative kunai as he popped a handful of peanuts in his mouth.

"Nothing, I really love this pair. It would look spectacular in my collection. I have a decorative pair from wherever I've been. Don't have one from Konoha for some reason."

"Hmm." He frowned. After a pause he said, a bit unsure, "Will you let me get these for you?"

"What? Why? No! I can get them. It's cool."

He took her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to get these for you."

"I really couldn't. You got me the clip, too!"

"Who said the clip is yours?"

"Uhh... why'd you put it in my hair then?" embarrassed at the assumptions she'd made.

Shikamaru burst out laughing.

"I'm messing with you. I got the clip for you long back. Just...never got a chance to give it to you." A sad smile lingered on his face for a fraction of a seocnd. Temari blushed and looked away from his piercing gaze. What the hell was it with his eyes today. They just wouldn’t let her go.

"Please, let me get the kunai for you. It would mean so much to me." Shikamaru murmured softly against her hands.

"Hmm. Alright, I guess you owe me that much," she winked and gave him a shy smile.

Shikamaru's face lit up and he smiled so brightly that Temari wanted nothing more than to smother him with kissEd. He looked like a child who had just been given a box full of candies.

"I ..want to get today's date carved on it too."

"Yeah? Why?"

"I'd like to remember today."

"Why?" a shy smile spread across Shikamaru's face.

"Stop it."

"Here you go, love." He handed her the bag.

As Temari peeked into the packet, she heard Ino, Sakura, and Hinata coming over to them. When Naruto pulled Shikamaru aside to check out another stall, Ino pounced on the chance.

"How's it going, Temari?" asked Ino.

"Great! I'm just exploring. A little tired, really."

"Hmmmmm. Tired from the journey or....?" Ino teased knowingly and Sakura and Hinata laughed.

"What..what do you mean?" Temari asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh come on! We all know what you've been up to," said Sakura and winked at her.

"I have no idea what you girls are talking about."

"Temari, the three of us had come to pick you up at the inn because you weren't picking up your phone," Hinata jumped in, failing to keep a straight face. Temari's face went pale and she looked the other way.

"We could hear some very interesting noises so we thought we'll leave you be," Sakura giggled.

"Hey, it's alright. This'll stay between us. We're just messing with you." reassured Ino.

"We're happy for you Temari. This was long due. We've been rooting for you both." chimed in Hinata.

"Girls, he's killing me," Temari finally broke down.

"Well, you've been toying with him since years. Let him have some fun."

"I haven't been toying with him. I love him. He's just dense."

"He's anything but dense," Hinata cut Temari off and all three girls looked at her, surprised. "He's..he's not dense. Just really considerate."

"Sooooo, Te-ma-ri chan, is he any good in bed?" snickered Sakura to break the awkward silence.

"We...we haven't...we haven't really done anything yet," stuttered Temari.

"What? What was all that screaming and moaning out his name for?" probed Sakura. The girls couldn't stop giggling.

"Well...we..uh...he just..."

"What are you all gossiping about? Ino, 20 bucks if I win the shooting game." challenged Sai. He was walking over to the girls with Shikamaru, Sasuke, and Naruto.

"Ohhh? Let's see who wins then." Both of them walked to the shooting stall hand in hand. Sasuke noticed Temari blushing and he glanced at Shikamaru, amused.

"Do y'all wanna have Ramen?" asked Naruto. "Sure, let's go!" "Let's wait for Ino and Sai."

Ino returned victorious, mocking Sai. The 4 couples walked towards the ramen stall, bantering and mocking each other about something or the other. The crowd was thinning steadily, the after-hours of the festival full of laughter and chatter. Temari felt Shikamaru's hand snake around her waist.

"I can't wait to take this Yukata off off you, Temari," Shikamaru whispered. They'd fallen a few steps behind.

"You look so beautiful. I bet you're still wet from earlier." He spoke in a silky voice against the sweaty skin of her neck and softly bit her ear. His hand cupped her heat and Temari slapped his hand away, making him chuckle.

Temari stayed absolutely still. When she didn't say anything, Shikamaru frowned.

"What's... what's wrong?" Shikamaru asked, concerned. Back in his senses now, he faltered and blushed at what he'd just said and done.

Temari spoke hurriedly like a quick rainstorm, "Please, can we go back to the inn? Make me yours already. I've been yearning for you since so long. And now I know you have been, too. It's plain as day that we both want eachother, why won't you just take me back? Why subject me to all this waiting? Haven't we waited for so long already? It doesn't make any sense."

Shikamaru felt his knees giving away but he steadied himself and softened his tone. He turned her around and pecked her jaw and the insides of her wrists. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, "Just a little bit longer, love. Let's eat with the gang first. I promise I'll make you feel so good once we get home, princess." "Shikamaru, everyone...everyone knows about us..." "So?" "So? You're okay with that?" "Why wouldn't I be? I would like to make it very clear that you're mine." "Oh..."

"Oi, you two lovebirds. Get here quick. We'll lose our spot otherwise," shouted Naruto.

Shikamru grabbed her hand and walked towards the restaurant. They all settled in on the low outdoor benches and Shikamaru made Temari sit on his thigh, his left hand wrapped around her waist. Temari felt awkward at first but she leaned into him when she saw so many couples around her.

Even Hinata, the shyest of them all, was sitting in Naruto's lap, wrapped around him like a child. She blushed when she noticed Naruto's hand stroking Hinata's waist softly. She caught him whispering sweet nothings in Hinata's ears as Hinata smiled shyly. Sakura, too, was sitting between Sasuke's legs. Sasuke was putting a flower in her hair as he spoke about some mission with all of them. Ino's legs were in Sai's lap as he drew mindless circles on her thighs with his fingers.

The atmosphere was so drunken and happy and full of love that she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. There were fairy-lights everywhere and red lanterns swayed back and forth in the gentle wind. Flower petals and leaves blew around them. The laughter and cling and clatter of the utensils made her feel alive.

When they had ordered and were mid-conversation, Temari suddenly pecked Shikamaru on his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence. He raised his eyebrows and pecked her nose and continued talking about how he beat Asuma in a training session and everyone listened to him intently. She noticed that his hands never left her. She eased in completely, never having known such familiarity in an unfamiliar place. The sake was rich, the ramen was perfect, and the company was warm.

Late at night when all of them were buzzed and tired, they said their goodbyes. The three girls winked at Temari as she felt Shikamaru squeeze her ass for the tenth time that night. //

"I can't wait for the saucy details. I'm not letting Temari go without telling us everything." Sakura spoke hurriedly to Ino and Hinata.

"Temari is the one I was talking about earlier today, Sakura! I didn't think things would happen so fast! Did you see him, he didn't let her out of his sight or hands for a single second," Ino giggled.

"He's addicted! But, you both should just leave them be now. Don't go around spying on them!" Hinata laughed and blushed at the same time.

"Oh, he's more than addicted, I'm sure of it," said Ino.

"Hina, let's go babygirl," Naruto called out in a hoarse voice. Hinata blushed a deep red, knowing the girls will tease her about her nick-name forever now.

"Haha! Go on babygirl! See you tomorrow!" Ino and Sakura teased her. The girls giggled and hugged before leaving.

//

Temari and Shikamaru walked towards nowhere in particular.

"So, your place or mine?" asked Shikamaru. He chuckled as he stroked her face. He wanted to kiss her lips so much.

"How about yours?" Temari was finally in her element and she fingered is t-shirt like she had at the brunch. She looked at him with her deep green eyes and Shikamaru felt himself losing control.

"God, I want you so bad, Temari. Tsk. You've no idea." He held her hands and kissed her fingers.

They walked quietly, enjoying the cool breeze.

"Shikamaru, why haven't you ever made a move? I don't think that you've only just realised how I feel about you."

Shikamaru took a deep breath but stayed quiet.

"Well?"

He stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Temari, I am only going to say this once... All these years, I was scared that you were just playing with me. You've had several boyfriends, too. I've literally given you advice on how to make up with them. And so I never knew what to make of all your teasing and flirting. I didn't think you felt for me the way I do for you... In fact, I don't think you can ever feel for me the way I feel for you."

He paused.

"The last mission took a lot away from me, Temari. When I saw you today, toying with me again like that, something snapped in me. I acted on an impulse that I usually keep under control. But, seeing you react the way you did to me today told me more than enough." He gave her a small smile. Temari stood still, her face betrayed nothing.

"Let's go," whispered Shikamaru. "Hmm."

When they reached Shikamaru's flat, Temari spent a minute looking around. Everything was immaculate and in place. She was admiring all the photos on the wall when she felt Shikamaru quickly untie her obi. Her breath hitched in her throat and she softly moaned out his name.

"Hmm?"

"I wasn't toying with you. I never have."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm."

He had her naked and pressed against his body in a matter of seconds. He began to untie her hair but Temari stopped him. "Leave the clip be."

He bit the insides of his cheek to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. His hands roamed around her body hungrily. He kissed and nibbled at her neck and shoulders and she kept her hands on his as he trailed them all over her breasts and stomach, halting at her inner thighs. She moved her hips slowly against him.

He drew light circles around her left nipple and greedily squeezed her right thigh. Temari gasped at the pressure and Shikamaru turned her around. He held her face tenderly, pulled her close, and finally kissed her lips. He came alive under her touch. The greed with which Temari sucked on his lips made him shiver and lose breath. He smiled against her flesh and walked her towards the sofa in his living room, kissing her all the while. He made her sit down, lightly held her chin, and made her look up at him.

"Spread your legs, Temari," his voice hoarse from desire.

He held the backrest of the sofa with his left hand, dug his right knee on the sofa, and bent over her. Temari wrapped her hand around his left hand, and her other stroked his hair. He lightly touched her moist folds with two fingers and let out a small grunt at how wet she was. He lazily rubbed her clit, his eyes never leaving hers. He took in her supple body full of scars from missions. The way she, finally, fully arched her back at his touch, offering herself to him. The way her naked nipples hardened against his moist tongue. The way goosebumps decorated her entire body. Her reaction to his touch sent his mind in a chaos. What happened in the afternoon was nothing compared to how she blossomed under him now.

As soon as she tugged at his t-shirt, he removed his clothes, just his black briefs on him. Temari took him in, he looked like a sculpture. He appeared so lean clothed but his arms were huge and his chest was stunning. The light hair sprinkled all over softened his hard chest and chiselled face. Temari couldn't take her eyes off his torso, she was practically drooling. Shikamaru felt his face heating up at her gaze. He'd never been looked at like that.

"Like what you see, princess?" he spoke when he recovered from all her oggling.

"Hmm," she smiled coyly and bit her lips.

She saw his briefs stretching, the bulge too prominent to miss. She moved her face towards his clothed cock and licked the tip eliciting a groan from him. She moved her face to the side of his waist and tongued the waistband of his briefs. She took the waistband in between her teeth and pulled his briefs down. His cock slapped his stomach as it broke free from being constrained for so long. Shikamaru stayed absolutely still, breathing heavily, his eyes never leaving hers.

Temari gave his cock a slow, wet lick from the base to the tip and he twitched, lightly slapping her cheek. She showered it with moist kisses and fluttered her tongue around his pale pink and warm head.

"Fuck..." Shikamaru suddenly grabbed Temari and flipped her around.

"On your knees, ma'am."

Before Temari could even settle in, she felt his cock rubbing against at her clit. She looked back at him as she moved with him.

"So eager, Shika..ahh fuck,"

Shikamaru thrust three fingers inside her before she could complete her sentence, taking her by surprise. His other hand bunched up her hair. He moved his fingers hard and fast. He noticed Temari's toes curling and her head digging into the backrest. He leaned over her and kissed her back and neck before he spoke.

"You're doing so well baby, let me feel you cumming around my fingers," he spoke in a soft voice.

"I...I'm gonna...cum."

Shikamaru felt his heart beating like a hummingbird as he felt Temari clench around his fingers and he felt a warmth coating his hands and his cock. She whimpered quietly, her voice lost from the powerful orgasm, at finding the release she had been denied all day. Shikamaru pulled out his fingers, positioned his cock at her cunt, and dug his hands in her waist as he slowly began to enter her.

"Shika..Shikmaru, plea.. I can't.." Temari panted, still recovering from her orgasm.

"Shhh, you're taking me so well baby, just a little bit more." He slowed down even more, giving her time to adjust. Her thighs shivered as she eased around him and took him in.

"You're easing around me just fine, princess. I promise I'm gonna be slow." murmured Shikamaru against her flesh.

He slowly started moving and increased his pace, and Temari's moans got louder with each thrust, till she was screaming out his name, till she was babbling nonsense. His hands travelled everywhere across her body hungrily. Shikamaru's face burned, his heart fluttered, and he felt like a million little butterflies had just taken birth in his belly. He never wanted to hear anything else from Temari except whatever escaped her petal-like lips as he fucked her. She held his hand tight.

"Fuck..ahh" He loved the way she cussed in a small voice before he felt her gushing around him again; the profanity morphed into something lovely coming from her wet mouth. He felt himself buckling as he thrust himself inside her hard and pulled out, eliciting an ungodly voice from Temari.

He flipped her around again, and positioned himself between her legs. He entered her again, slowly, and cupped her right breast with his hand and took her left nipple in his mouth. A sigh of relief left Temari's lips as she stroked his hair.

He moved in and out of her gently and his lips made their way up to her neck, nibibling and kissing her chest and shoulders and arms till he buried his face in her neck, settling in.

Temari's hands roamed all over his body and finally came to rest on his shoulders, her legs were hitched around his waist. She could see his back and hips flex with each thrust. It made her clench harder around him and arch her back into him. They moved together, taking each other in as much as they could, Shikamaru nibbled and sucked on her neck and she circled her tongue around his earrings.

He panted and her broken sighs followed with every thrust. They were lost in the way they both came undone with each other, the messy, sloppy sound of his cock moving in and out of her the only thing that pulled them back to reality.

"Shikamaru, I'm gonna.. gonna...unfff."

He could feel her tightening around him like never before before she suddenly loosened up. She came around his cock, growing so wet that he slipped out of her. He pushed himself back inside her, making her bite his neck, and started fucking her relentlessly. Overstimulated, Temari suddenly shivered violently and squirted.

"That's it, love. Such a good girl."

He didn't break his pace and Temari's nails dug into his back, scratching him everywhere. Shikamaru grit his teeth so he wouldn't make a sound as she used his body to calm down. After what seemed like like a blissful eternity of short and quick thrusts, Shikamaru pulled out again and sat up on the sofa, his legs spread open. He kissed the entirety of her legs, waiting for her to recover from her orgasm. When he saw she'd calmed down, he held Temari's waist and brought her on top of him.

"I want to watch you," he murmured against her breasts. The intensity with which he looked at her made Temari uncontrollably shy and she felt a raw heat taking flight in her belly and face.

"Haven't you watched me enough already?" she panted, still out of breath, hinting at what he'd done to her after brunch.

"It's never going to be enough."

She breathed heavily on his skin as she felt his cock twitching against her clit. She involuntarily moved against his hardness, making him grunt.

Shikamaru traced her outline and took her breasts in his mouth, sucking and nibbling at them, as she moved slowly. She took his cock in her hand and positioned it, and then sat on him in one go, making Shikamaru throw his head back and dig his fingers in her hips.

"fuck."

He recovered and watched her slowly grind against him and sucked a breath in through his gritted teeth.

"Fuck, Temari, you're dri... what the hell?" his head suddenly snapped at the windows. He looked pissed, his eyebrows suddenly sharper. Confused, Temari looked at the windows as well.

Shikamaru drew the curtains shut with his shadows. They heard giggles and quick footsteps outside until everything went quiet.

"I bet it's Sakura and Ino," giggled Temari.

He felt her tighten around him.

"Oh, you like that, huh? Being watched like that?"

"N..no! They've been after my life for ‘details’."

"Would you like to put a show on for the girls?" he asked in a small whisper. He felt her clench around him again. He twitched inside her, at the thought of everyone watching him make her his. "I think it's you who'd like to put on a show, no?" challenged Temari.

Shikamaru blushed and then came alive with a child-like laughter. He held her head and brought it to his neck. He kissed her head and then without a warning, he started fucking her hard, and faster, than before. She bit down on his neck, marking him pink and purple, as he fucked her till she lost her voice and came around him in quick successions again. Spent and tired, she clung to him like a child. Shikamaru got up and carried her upstairs to the bedroom, all the while throbbing inside her.

He laid her down on his bed and spooned her. Shikamaru was hard as a rock and ready to go but he knew Temari was too spent. He gave her small nibbles and bites as he traced her body with his hands, fingering all her scars.

"You never said anything, you know?

"What do you mean?"

"When I said I love you."

"Hmm. Should I have said something?"

"Yes," she replied curtly.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything."

"Let me say it to you in my way?" he murmured.

"And what way is that?" she turned her head to look at him, frowning.

He made her lick his hands and stroked his cock, wetting it before he entered her ever so slowly. He lifted her leg and hooked it on his arm as they both looked deep into each other's eyes. Both of them gasped as his balls kissed her clit. Temari felt fuller than before and Shikamaru's face felt hot.

"Rub yourself," Shikamaru whispered.

Temari immediately complied and he felt her ass digging into his belly. He moved inside of her in slow and hard thrusts for a while before Temari felt his pace faltering. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. She bit her lip and nodded quickly.

Temari came around him again. She couldn't bear how intimate it all was. The moment she tightened around him, he grunted, hid his face in her hair, and came inside of her, his warmth spreading everywhere inside her.

They both passed out before Shikamaru had a chance to slip out of her.

Right before sunrise, Shikmaru woke up, his limp cock still buried in Temari. He pulled out slowly and Temari stirred. He covered her up with a blanket and went to the washroom to freshen up. Itching for a cigarette, he went downstairs to his balcony. He lightly pinched himself to check if he was in a dream. Then he muttered at his own stupidity. When he made his way upstairs, she was snoring lightly. He sat beside her. After an hour or so of just observing her, he felt himself getting hard. He leaned his head back on the headrest. "Mendukse onna," he muttered under his breath, genuinely tired of his own arousal for her.

He slowly moved between her legs and started to lightly nibble at her clit. He placed small kisses on her mound. When he couldn't control himself, he dove in, lapping up her pussy messily. She sighed and moaned deeply as she rose from her deep sleep. She jerked and came quickly on his tongue.

"Morning, baby," Shikamaru murmured against her spasming thighs. "Morning," Temari whispered, slightly out of breath.

He quickly came up to spoon her again and showered her neck with kisses, making her laugh. That same laugh that had made him realise he'd fallen in love with her. That same laugh that had made him realise that he didn't only appreciate her as a friend, didn't only have immense respect for her, didn't only have this need to be a better person for her, but also wanted her to be entirely his. He kissed her lips deeply, his heart beating so loudly he thought he would faint. They lay there, kissing each other for a long time.

"Shikamaru, I want...I want a life with you." "Me too, baby," he whispered against her back. "I want...I want a nice house with you, I want to take care of you, I want to go on missions with you." He stilled. After a brief pause, she mustered the courage to say something she'd only ever dreamed of. "I want... I want a child with you." His eyes widened. It took him a moment to recover but to Temari's surprise he took it quite well. "Yeah? Only if it'll have your eyes." "And your hair," she said way too quick. "But, only after some time. I want to spend time with you first. I want your undivided attention for a while."

He turned her around and kissed her deep again. He then held her waist and made her sit on his face. Temari gasped.

"I can't get enough of you Temari. Stay for a while. Please don't go back just yet." He spoke against her thighs. He lazily licked her swollen clit, taking his sweet time. She rode his face slow and then gradually increased her pace to match the messy and quick way his tongue loved her. She moaned his name hoarsely as she gushed around his mouth again. She felt him smiling against her throbbing wetness.

She moved to sit down on his groin, rubbing his cock against her wetness. Shikamaru folded his hands behind his head as he watched her sleepily. As she took him inside her, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. She slowly moved on top of him, her breasts hovered over his chest and face.

"Cum for me, Shikamaru," she whispered as she increased her pace. She felt his balls harden and scrunch up against her ass and he shivered and moaned out her name. He thrusted her hard thrice and Temari felt him cumming inside her again. She lied down on top of him and he stroked her hair, her clip shone bright in the soft morning sunlight.

He kissed her forehead. "I love you."

///

Afterthoughts

I think the whole idea of Ino and Sakura being so nosy really fits in well with the whole dynamic. I really enjoyed crafting the dialogue. I think the slightly voyeuristic undertone to this piece has really been derived from Ino and Choji spying on ShikaTema in the anime. A lot of fanart also has Ino and Choji in the background. And so, it isn’t really kinky or dirty sex here, but more about bringing out that old-school friendship that Shikamaru shares with Ino and others.

I have deliberately removed Choji from this piece. I don’t know but I dont think I can ever write Choji well. I also feel that Shikamaru would actually share girl problems with Ino or Naruto. But for all other life stuff, he would actually talk to Choji. I also really enjoyed writing the internal struggle that Shikamaru faced. The hair clip was really only put in the story to bring out his need to plan and prepare for something that he knows is totally out of his control.

I found it tough to write Temari’s strong character at first (specially in the scene where she’s kinda tied up) but I realised that she doesn’t have to be strong with and around Shikamaru. That’s largely what draws me to them. The whole idea of both of these calm and strong characters going batshit crazy for each other is really an HC for me, haha. Both of them are so secure in and sure of each other’s strength - they really don’t have to put up a facade.

The scene where Shikamaru buys the Kunai for Temari is really a manifestation of his respectful love™ for Temari. He wants to buy her the world but he also understands that she’s fully capable of doing that herself. He understands that she has a strong sense of ‘I can get stuff done on my own’ and doesn’t want to step on it. He merely wants to feel included in her life. He wants to get her things that will remind her of him when he’s away. He wants to be in every corner of her life, as he wants her to be in every corner of his life. Idk if I am articulating this well but this is a dynamic I really fkn DIG.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Señorita

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: You finally get out of the city to spend a week in a beachside paradise - you’re entitled to a little getaway, you think, with your birthday coming up. When a handsome stranger hits on you at the bar, along with your birthday, some other things might come as well.   A/N: This was random? Came out of nowhere. Enjoy & let me know what you think x

Gif not mine

Timid waves crushed softly against the shoreline, white sand turning concrete gray at their touch. The warm breeze carried around a song you thought you recognised, but couldn’t remember from where. The beach-side bar basked in a gentle blush glow, so typical for the evenings here at Mallorca… You’d only arrived a couple of days ago, but already you couldn’t picture yourself anywhere else - just sitting here, at the bar by the turquoise sea, sipping on your Pina Colada in the shadow of the palm-branched roof. The wind brushed through your salt-stained hair from the entire day spent rolling around on the beach; mindful sun caressing your thighs, peaking from behind the slit in your deep emerald dress.

Tonight was relatively calm, you thought, twirling the straw in your cocktail absentmindedly. Ever since the English rugby team packed up their balls and other attributes and set out to sea, the place became peaceful.

You were glad. The entire point of this trip was to get out of the busy city for a while, enjoy the calm. If you wanted a testosterone-filled party for your birthday, you would have stayed in New York - Karen would throw a rave that would make Coachella look like a kindergarten gathering.

But that is exactly what drove you out of America and into this seaside paradise. If there was one thing you had trouble doing, it was working a crowd of people you barely saw in your everyday life, who only came for booze and dancing. Karen said she understood, and that the party would have been a small yet tasteful affair… you still fled.

Here’s to hoping that Karen wasn’t pissed at you for bailing, you silently prayed, throwing the straw on the bar and taking a gulp directly from the glass. Judging from the text Karen sent you earlier today, saying something about getting together for a celebratory meal when you got back to the city, you figured she wasn’t mad. She did say something about introducing her to a friend of Frank’s again, and having thrown the Karen plan for the party out of the window, you had to budge.

It’d been so long it had become a running joke between you two - Karen wanting to introduce you to that “handsome hunk”, with whom Frank had served. She was especially lyrical about his manners, his big heart and his beautiful smile.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Karen was head over heels for the guy.

Every time Karen made plans for a Sunday brunch or Saturday night drinks at Castle’s place with the sole purpose of introducing you to the Hunk, you always found an excuse to ditch. Sometimes it was an urgency at work, sometimes it was about something funny you ate the night before… You must have been dodging these “introductory date” attempts for at least five months now - and it all looked like after this get-away vacation, you’d have to face the music.

Well, it was worth it. A week of doing nothing, reading sappy novels and drinking high-end cocktails, that was what you craved for, and if you had to pretend to be interested in some nonsense a guy was trying to charm you with for a couple of hours, it was a small price to pay. With that thought, you finished off your Pina Colada and motioned for the sunburnt brown bartender to get you another one.

“Hola señorita.”

The voice was unexpected. Low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of power.

“Disculpe, ¿este asiento está ocupado?”

Slightly frowning, you turned your head to the right.  

Ever since the English rugby team settled in one of the villas, the women in the hotel found themselves outnumbered. It just so happened - what a coincidence - that you turned out to be their neighbour, your villa closest to theirs. Everytime you’d walk out of your temporary home to hit the bar or the beach, you’d spot at least three young men hanging outside of their quarters, their faces illuminating the minute they saw you. You’d give them a cursory smile back - you weren’t that cruel - but everytime one of them tried to approach you, you shot him down - often with a look, rarely with a verbal warning. Ever since they left, you was relishing the feeling of tranquillity - until he decided to burst your happy little bubble.

The first thing you noticed about him is that he wasn’t Spanish, despite the lack of accent. He had beautiful dark, almost black eyes, the colour of a freshly brewed espresso, that myriad of black and chocolate tones swirling in a whirlpool of tender curiosity. They held your depreciating stare well. The sun obviously loved him - those razor-sharp cheekbones glowed bronze as he tilted his head to the side a little bit. The wind caressed his dark hair, playing with the longer strands at the top.

Something about him was so familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on the beach before? You did stay at the same hotel after all…

Not in a slightest bit confused at your lack of answer, the man smiled.

His smile held a sort of a gentle surprise in it, like a summer day in a middle of October.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Je suis désolée,” you finally uttered, forcing your eyes to focus on his eyes again instead of his lips. “Je ne parle pas espagnol”.

His smile grew wider, much to your surprise. Instead of getting red in the face, stammering out some random apology as you expected him to, he nodded and motioned to the chair next to you with one hand, sliding the other one across the surface of the bar.

Despite your better judgement and against your utter dislike of aimless flirting, you found herself shrugging as you accepted her second drink from the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

Ah-ha. He’s from New York.

You sipped on your cocktail directly from the glass, ignoring the brand-new straw the bartender supplied you with in order to hide your smirk. As the man held two aristocratic, impossibly long fingers in the air, making his order, you took the time to study him.

He was tall, much taller than you. The plain white t-shirt that he wore betrayed the solid stomach muscles hidden under the cotton - the short sleeves strained as he gripped the back of the chair and slowly lowered himself onto it.

“Thank you,” he finally said to the bartender with a nod, gripping his glass with those downright pornographic fingers. Slightly pursuing his lips, the man turned his full attention back to you. When you arched an eyebrow at his antics, he flashed you a mischievous yet understanding look. “Ça tombe bien. Je me sens plus à l’aise en parlant français”.

That cheeky bastard.

Your first reaction was that of a sincere surprise. You were pretty sure that for a second there, your eyebrows almost reached your hairline. Upon catching the satisfied glint in these already all too familiar eyes, you wanted to feel irritated at the nerve of him, at the fact that he just happened to beat you at your own game. But you didn’t.

Biting hard on your bottom lip in order not to laugh, you took your glass and sipped, hard.

“While I’d love to know how many more languages the lady speaks, I would much rather learn her name”, he dropped nonchalantly, whirling his whiskey gently, the ice cubes cluttering against the glass.

The first comeback that crossed your mind was so filthy you couldn’t possibly go with it. The second one, however, was efficient and succinct.

“Diana, here’s a lady’s name.”

With a low chuckle, he let his head drop down for a moment. When he raised his eyes to face you again, your chest felt a little too tight and a little too fragile under his poignant stare - that of amusement, want and a clean cut awe.

His eyes had told you that this was more than a drifting attraction, that he was interested in so much more than your name…

You saw it, and for some nonsensical reason, chose to believe it.

“I don’t care about names,” there was such a determination to your voice that it surprised you. It didn’t startle him, though - he caught your every word as his eyes travelled from your fluttering eyelashes to the soft curve of your lips. “When there are so many more interesting things to talk about. Don’t you agree?”

As you turned away from him and took another sip of your drink, you heard him chuckle yet again, and saw him press a hesitant finger against his lips.

This was obviously new to him. This small treacherous gesture led you to believe that maybe he wasn’t one to pick women at bars, that, just like you, he felt that thrill of surrendering to the strange sort of attraction encircling you both.

“In fact, enough talking. Let’s focus on doing.”

What was it so special about him that made you decide? It’s not like there’s been no men before him, very much willing to break through your iron-clad facade, wanting you to take a leap of faith. Some of them had the potential to make you feel good, you were aware of that. Still, you didn’t want them.

What made him so different? A certain familiarity of his voice, his features, maybe? Or maybe you should just slow down, cut down on the alcohol, drink a glass of water and go back to your villa, alone.

The way his eyes skimmed your naked shoulders, a barely there sigh leaving his half-open lips sealed the deal.

You didn’t want to slow down.

Not with him.

“Here’s to doing then”, his Adam apple bobbed as he gulped down, his eyes darkening. He raised his glass towards you - a figurative shake of hands on the deal they just made.

“Here’s to doing”, you agreed, clinking your glass to his.

His villa was located at the outskirts of the hotel beach, backed by the rocks. It was a ten-minute walk from the bar, feet in the warm sand, the star-sprangled night sky over your heads.

Despite the silence surrounding you, save for the occasional gust of breeze carrying on the sound of music from the bar you just left, you didn’t feel awkward. A soft smile ghosted over your lips as you felt his careful touch at the small of your back - those fingers sliding down to the base of your spine, feather-like. He strode forward, adapting his pace so you could keep up - you weren’t even sure he was aware of that, the change in him so spontaneous, as if it were a force of habit. Like this wasn’t the first time you walked side by side.

You would blame it on the booze, but you drank a total of two cocktails.

He only had one whiskey before they took off.

The villa he chose to stay in was slightly more spacious than yours, and provided a lot more privacy - this told you a lot about the man you were about to sleep with. He was most certainly well off, for starters. He also came here to get his share of peace and quiet, much like yourself.

Guiding you through the doors, he turned the lights on behind you, his other hand never leaving your back.

The best way to describe the interior would be neat or crisp, with a large, perfectly made bed in the center of the space, surrounded by a bar, a hanging chair, a shuttered armoire, and a desk, that could be used both as a kitchen table and a bureau. It smelled faintly of vanilla and musk, with a sea-salt aftertaste.

“Make yourself at home”, he murmured into your ear, still standing behind you, his hand gripping your hip hard for a fleeting second. When the realization of his touch had settled in, and you were finally able to react, he was already at the bar, serving himself a whiskey.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He busied himself with the bottle for a moment; then he produced another glass from behind the bar, waiting on your answer. When you didn’t speak, he turned to face you again.

You did as you were told - kicking off your shoes, you stepped onto the soft wool rug. With your back to him, you slowly made your way to his bed. One you reached it, you couldn’t resist trailing your fingertips along its surface - the sheets were creamy and silk, smooth to the touch.

You stopped short of the head of the bed, throwing a look over your shoulder. He caught your gaze, frozen in place, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.  

“Why don’t you choose for me?” you offered, slowly lowering yourself on the bed, crossing your legs. “What do you usually serve them?”

The way his eyes narrowed at you ever so slightly almost made you smile. It looked like you’d struck a nerve.

Good.

“I wouldn’t know how to answer that question”, he said, his voice levelled, his stare unblinking. “I’ve never had an urge like that before”.

Well, fuck.

How many more times this man was going to run counter to your expectations?

And on top of everything, damn, he was good. A quick-thinker or a natural good-talker? Would you remain clear-headed for long enough to find out?

“What else would you like to know?” his voice grew huskier as he pushed the glass away from himself. He left it at the bar as he started your way, his pupils blown to hell.

“That all I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you at the bar is how soft your breasts would feel pressed against my chest? That I’ve been hard ever since you opened that sassy mouth of yours? Or that I would have jerked off to the memory of you for weeks if you hadn’t come here with me?”

God.

The tightness that had long since made home in your chest moved lower, lower, lower, until it sank into the pit of your stomach. At his words, involuntary, your thighs clenched together, restless energy buzzing in between your legs, your toes curling.

“Stand up”.

When your eyes focused back on your surroundings, you saw him standing a couple of steps away, his strong jaw clenching as he gazed at you, his arms folded on his chest. Breath catching in your throat, you pushed off the bed. Feeling dizzy all of the sudden, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, beautiful.”

Again, you did as you were told - you met his gaze head-on, and almost instantly regretted it. He was staring down at you with those black bottomless eyes, raw emotion flowing through him, filling the air around them, charging it to the brim. His hands fell down his sides now - so tense, the veins budged on his forearms.

It’s like he was pacing himself, keeping himself from touching you.

“Take off your dress,” he requested after a moment, watching you like a hawk.

Slowly, squeezing your thighs harder, harder still, you brought your hands to the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, before pushing them off completely.

The dress landed in a heap on the floor, leaving you in nothing but lacy panties - almost utterly naked under his stare.

You heard the softest groan escape his mouth as his hand snaked across his thighs and up to that bulge in his pants. When he squeezed his hand around it, his abdominal muscles flexing as he exhaled, you felt the moisture spread down your inner thighs.

With your heart pounding in your throat, you made a step towards him with your hand stretched out. Almost immediately you heard a low strangled noise, and saw the nah shining bright in his dark eyes.

“Not yet, beautiful,” he growled, taking his t-shirt off in one elegant motion. He then undid the belt on his pants, his eyes savouring every inch of your naked skin. “Play with your tits for me. With both hands.”

Your own touch burned as you carefully squeezed your nipples with your fingers. Throwing your head back, you moaned loud, unwillingly pushing your hips forward.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that.”

His words seemed to lift some sort of barrier, as you started to tug and pull harder at the nipples, alternating the movements with firm grasps around the swell of your breasts.

You were going to come.

You were going to come and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Now slide one of those hands down those panties. Rub that pretty pussy. Tell me how wet you are”.

You made peace with the fact that he was a talker - but now he had surely sat out to break her. His voice washed all over your body, sending goosebumps down your spine as you slid one of your hands under the underwear.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you gasped, staring at him. “Fucking dripping”.

His moan made your thighs tremble, your fingers slowly circling around your clit. Before you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, you saw him with one of his hands hidden in his pants, slowly jerking himself off, with slow, aborted motions.

“That’s it, caress that pussy for me. But go slow - tease it”.

You nearly growled at that. You knew you were close - there was a bundle of sensation, like a ball of electricity, building inside of you - two quick flicks of your index finger, and you’d be done for.  

“Jesus, please”, you stuttered out before you could realize you were actually begging. “I’m so fucking close, please…”

You rubbed slowly over the nerves, your fingers wet and slippery. Panting, you realized his name would have come in handy just now - if he had some sort of a praise kink, you could maybe easily get the release you yearned for.

“You are so beautiful, fucking yourself like that. Wish those were my hands. Or my mouth”.

Something flared at the very end of your clit, softly spreading all over her pussy. You moaned loud and unapologetic, your fingers moving faster as you tried to chase that sensation. You needed to grasp it, to ride it out, you fucking needed it!…

“Put a finger inside, beautiful”.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pumping fast and hard, you could feel your knees bending, your flesh begging for release.

“Come for me. Now.”

As if by command, the orgasm finally hit you - everywhere at once. It made your entire body shake as you screamed out, pussy clenching around your fingers. You barely registered you were falling down on your knees, when strong hands caught you at your hipbones, pushing you upright.

He was on you before you could come down from your high. His mouth hot and bruising against yours, you moaned, instinctively jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his feverish body.

His scent assaulted you - a clean, musky scent made your inside muscles clench, so you wiggled against him, wanting more.

He was so painfully hard against your core, you whimpered, pushing your hips against his, needing more friction, like an addict craving for a dose.

Sensing your need, feeling you, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and stepped onto the bed, setting you down on that same wooden headboard of the bed you’d almost stroke with your fingers.

Pushing your legs apart, he settled in between them. Before you knew it, his tongue lapped at your wetness, sliding up the length of your slit. Whimpering and moaning, you arched your back, burying your fingers in his hair, tugging hard. That made him growl, adding a slight vibration as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. He slammed his fingers - those fucking fingers - into you, and it took exactly two pumps for your second orgasm to roll over you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you moaned into the ceiling with everything you had.

Helping you slide down onto the bed with his hands guiding your hips, he gave you a piercing stare. The one that made you whimper, even though your eye-side was still fuzzy at the edges.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before he distanced himself from you - to take off his pants.

“I’m going to fuck you now - I’ll be gentle next time, right now… Right now I just need to bury myself in that pretty pussy of yours”.

“Fuck”, you moaned, propping yourself on the elbows, closing your eyes as you threw your head back. You didn’t know if you could handle more, but Jesus, did you want it. His cock stretching you wide.

You would not have been able to tell where he took a condom from - you didn’t even have time to contemplate on it. All you registered was a slight discomfort in between your legs before his huge cock pushed inside of you, inch by glorious inch. The stretch was almost too much, and you coughed out half a breath, half a moan as you tried to adjust to his size. Whatever sound you were about to let out next, as he slid out of you and pushed back in, to the hilt this time, it got lost in between your lips, as he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss.

Your nails scratched on his ripped back as he fucked into you shallowly, your teeth biting into the skin on his neck. As if not getting enough of you, he grabbed one of your thighs, flexing it, so he could thrust deeper.

The change of the angle had you swearing under your breath, and his mouth was there to silence you again, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

The third orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere - there was no gradual built, no buzzing feeling in your lower stomach - it crashed on you like a bucket full of ice, having you arching your back, clenching around his cock so fiercely, it snatched an orgasm out of him, as well.

“Fuuuuuck”, he breathed out, his hips slamming sloppily into yours. “So fucking good, fucking…”

Before he could continue, you rolled forward and put your mouth on him, swallowing his words. With his palm cupping your cheek, he deepened the kiss as his cock drained itself into the latex.

The kiss grew soft, your noses touching ever so slightly as you both slowed down, a mess of tangled limbs. Smearing his wet mouth against your nipples, he pushed up from you, sliding his cock out.

“I’d take that drink now if you don’t mind”, you told him, a lazy smile illuminating your features.

A low chuckle he let out echoed in your lower stomach.

“Sure, beautiful. How does a whiskey sound?” he offered, standing up in all his naked glory.

You hummed in approval as you leaned higher against the headboard. Biting your lip, you checked out his ass unashamedly, as he made his way to the bar, throwing the used condom into the garbage bin.

“I know there are some things that we’ve agreed on, but I’d much appreciate calling you by your name instead of beautiful when going down on you next time. What do you say?”

You heard whiskey splash against the walls of your soon-to-be glass. Your inner muscles clenched at the sight of him, naked, serving you a drink.

“It’s Y/N”, you said with a small smile.

“Billy”, he responded, making his way to you. As you reached out to take your glass of whiskey from him, he pulled his hands backwards, using your position to land his lips on yours in a stinging kiss instead. You responded hungrily, grabbing his head with both of your hands.

The night was still young, after all.

“Okay, so would you rather spent your life partying with rich assholes you barely know, still seeing your family and friends, or get stuck on a desert island with no opportunity to see anyone at all?”

You turned your head ever so slightly, feeling his muscles clench as Billy huffed out a breath.

You both laid naked on his bed, him propped against the headboard, you - with your head settled comfortably on his stomach. A half empty bottle of whiskey was getting warm against your bare thigh, both of your glasses laying empty next to it.

You had lost count of the times you came with his name a word of ecstasy on your lips. You were surely going to sport some hickeys on your neck tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

You had never felt so at ease with a man before. Granted, no man had ever managed to make you come three times in a row, but that wasn’t the point. Billy made you question your “no dating” rule, and not just because he fucked like his life depended on it. He just got you - whether it was your discomfort in big crowds, fear of subway, weird addiction to macarons or love-hate relationship with Paris. You just clicked - it was hard to believe you met mere hours ago.

Or maybe the fact that you only just met was the reason why you clicked. It certainly wouldn’t be the same in the long run. The rose-goggles period only lasted so long. When routine kicked in, it tended to crash everything in its wake.

“That’s a tough one”, he said, biting on the inside of his cheeks. “If I could invite people on my desert island, I’d definitely go with the second option.”

“Well, you can’t”, you smirked at him, and then stared back into the ceiling. “It’s either being constantly surrounded, or seeing no one at all”.

He hummed, considering the options.

“I can’t imagine being alone 24/7, even though you might have guessed already, I love being alone sometimes”, his fingers slowly caressed the soft skin under your breasts, as he voiced his thoughts out loud. “It’s funny how your mind works though”, you could hear a smile in his tone now. “With you, it’s either all or nothing.”

You thought for a moment, interlacing your fingers with his. Then you shrugged:

“Sometimes, I just want to get away, you know? See no one, speak to no one… I sometimes push people away, thinking it would do me good. But it doesn’t always have that desirable effect.”

When you stole a glance at Billy again, you saw him nod.

“I know what you mean”, he spoke quietly. “And I’m glad you didn’t push me away tonight”.

“Oh, I tried,” you assured him with a smirk. “You’re hard to shake off”, you let go of his fingers and pushed yourself up on your hands, so that your eyes were on the same level.

Billy chuckled, his lips stretching in that warm and wonderful smile.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be hard. Again. Point blank.”

You laughed quietly, dropping your gaze, your eyes traveling down his stomach and to that massive cock between his legs.

He was getting hard again alright.  

“What time is it?” you suddenly remembered, snapping your gaze around, searching for a clock.

“Quarter to four, why would you ask?” he told you, after checking his wristwatch.

You closed her eyes.

“It’s my birthday”, you said before you blinked at him in surprise.

In between all that dirty sex and orgasms, you lost track of time and completely forgot. Were you coming when the clock struck midnight? The thought made you giggle.

“Really?” Billy stared at you in disbelief before his dark cocoa eyes softened, and his voice dropped an octave. “Come here”.

Warmth spread all over your body at his words, your core the center of the growing tingling sensation. Billy used his hot hands to pull you closer, help you settle in his lap, your legs on each side of his hips. With his left hand he reached for the bedside table, pulling out yet another condom out.

“Would you like to put it on?” He whispered against the skin behind your ear, making your pussy tense. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, taking the foil packet from his hand. Tearing it up with your teeth, you slid the latex onto his throbbing cock, pumping him a couple of times for a good mesure. The noises Billy made were downright pornographic. You licked your lips.

With both of your hands on his naked shoulders, you slowly lowered yourself all the way down onto him, the sensation making you both moan this time.

“Just like that, beautiful”, he whispered softly in your ear, thrusting up into you.

You rode him slowly, arching your back, leveraging yourself on his shoulders. The position was so damn intense, and not only because that way Billy could thrust deeper, up to his balls. There was a strange sort of intimacy as he gripped your hips, helping you bounce slowly on his rock-hard cock - his cocoa eyes held a sort of intensity as he fucked into you. It made your heart ache.

“I fucking can’t get enough of you”, he confessed hoarsely. “Of that tight, wet, perfect pussy. Of your beautiful, smart mouth. All of you. Every fucking inch of you.”

His revelation combined with his soft, yet methodic thrusts was what toppled you over the edge. You came hard, your body protesting against all those orgasms Billy’s cock had already wrestled out of it. Speaking of him, he wasn’t too far behind either, gripping your hips and holding you down as he came.

His lips seemed to hold some kind of a promise as he kissed you gently.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful”, he whispered against your lips, his hot and ragged breath fanning over your skin.

You managed a tired smile, surging up to kiss him again, relishing the feeling of him inside of you still….

Surprisingly, New York welcomed you back with cloudless sky. It was still as busy as you remembered it, but something had changed. People seemed friendlier, streets - sunnier, summer - hotter. You caught yourself enjoying the city again now that you had come back well-rested from your week-long vacation.

Well-rested might have been a wrong word for it. More like satisfied. And taken care of.

After that night, you spent the two remaining days of her getaway at Billy’s villa - no strings attached. You two barely left the place. Never had you enjoyed a man’s company this much. You cooked together, swam together, made love together… Until it was over and done, and you had to go back to the real life again, tiptoeing on your way out so he wouldn’t wake up.

You stopped cold for a moment, a plat of appetisers freezing in your hands.

Did you just think made love? Well that was a slip of epic proportions…

“Daydreaming about your boy-toy again?” Karen teased her with a smirk, walking into the kitchen. “He must have been quite something”.

Oh that, he was. You couldn’t help but sigh as you put the plate on the table.

How many people Karen was expecting for the dinner exactly? It looked like Frank and her had cooked enough for the entire goddamn naval infantry.

“It’s been a week,” you said, shaking your head as if trying to make the thoughts about him fall out. “I guess I need some time to turn that page”.

“Who said that page needs turning?” Karen reasoned, putting two bottles of champagne on the table. “Didn’t you say he was from New York? You could keep on seeing each other?”

You didn’t even take a moment to think it over.

“Nah,” you shook your head, tugging at your silk top. “We didn’t talk much about our respective jobs, but he made it obvious he travels a lot, so…”

Catching Karen’s sceptic stare, you threw both of your hands into the air, waving them.

“I’ll see him when I’ll see him, and if I don’t…” you shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be then”.

You turned to face Karen again only to find out that her expression hadn’t changed.

“Uh huh,” the noise she made was her other way of saying bullshit. “Well, you do what you gotta do, but please play nice with Russo. I swear he is a perfect guy for you”.

You let out a chuckle.

“You know, I heard it so many times I’m actually starting to believe it”, you said.

As if on cue, you heard men’s voices in the corridor.

“So how was your getaway, then?” Frank asked casually, stepping first into the kitchen. “Wow, that looks amazing, ladies,” he commented on the table, winking at Karen.

Page blushed in response, making you roll your eyes.

You was about to make a side comment to your best friend, when your mind suddenly went blank upon hearing the stranger’s voice.

“It was great, perfect actually…”

A designer-shoes-clad foot appeared in the room.

“I just feel like I left a part of me there, I’m going to need some time to rea…”

…djust, your mind supplied as you stared at Billy, her Billy, standing across the room from you - fully dressed this time.

“Oh my God,” you barely whispered, your eyes big in your face, your chest feeling like it was going to collapse on itself.

Billy’s lips slowly parted in the widest smile you’d ever seen - he just stood there, like a man on whom the greatest happiness had been bestowed, and it rendered him speechless.

Karen looked at them both in confusion, until…

Until realisation dawned on her, and she chortled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her mouth.

“What’s… What’s going on?” Frank frowned, looking back and forth between Billy and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Hell yeah,” Billy finally spoke, his eyes never quitting yours as he closed the distance between you in four decisive strides.

Before you could even speak, he gripped your cheeks and dropped his lips on yours, as hot and burning as the sun back in Mallorca.

You moaned like you didn’t have a care in the world, pushing onto your toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you, beautiful”, Billy uttered between the kisses, his forehead pressed to yours. “You ain’t getting away so easily this time”.

You let out a soft laugh, inhaling his scent, and moved to kiss his lips again. 

[kyoongboxi]

Beyond My Reach —

[Baekhyun AU]

——

<< Interlude

Exam weeks is finally over on Friday. You are planning to clear your minds by hanging out somewhere with your friends but two days ago your mother texted you that you should comeback early to your parents house because your brother's wife expecting their first child soon and your mother wants all of the family members to be there. You sighed because you wouldn't dare to say no to her. But at least you still have the night time left before finally leaving the dorm for around two months starting from tomorrow.

You brushed your hair away from your face when a car passed in front of you caused by a gushed of wind that ruffling your hair a little. You were now heading against some restaurants with a bag full of soft drinks gripped between your fingers. Drinking or more like get drunk was never really you. Your alcohol tolerance was really that low so you wouldn't take any risk of it and buy a soft drinks instead. It was around seven p.m when you felt your phone buzzed in your pocket. You lazily unlocked your phone because you already know who is it. 

Where's my food? I'm so hungry i think i'm gonna die from a hunger if you didn't come in any second.. T^T ..hungry.. My poor belly...

Baekhyun. Your boy, your everyth— friends. He texted you exactly three hours ago that he wanted to see you. He said he missed you because exam weeks drives you insane and you didn't have time to meet him. Maybe things works easier for the guy because he is a genius. Yeah. A genius. Even with those round glasses hanging perfectly against his nose, he's not that guy whose into reading, studying, making some journals, no. He was just born clever. He is also the guy who hanging around a lot. He got a lot of friends and women attracted to him. Of course. He was handsome. 

And you remember, the first time he went drinking, and it was also the first time you found out that his alcohol tolerance is low. He got wasted. One of his friends called you that night. He said Baekhyun might need someone to watch him for the rest of the night because he literally passed out outside his door. You came right away and found the guy sprawled out against the couch. His round glasses was off his face, eyes half closed, mouth half parted. He just adorable. 

"You know what? I just realized you look so pretty from this angle" 

What?

"No, Baek— You're drunk. C'mon lets get you to bed" You positioned yourself in front of him and trying to take off his jacket without looking at his face. You didn't pay attention to his words that much because he did called you pretty multiple times and you felt nothing about it. That's it until he suddenly pulled your wrist harshly so you were falling on top of him. 

Eyes went wide, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face because he was too close. He looked at you with those drunken gaze, eyes droopy probably from the alcohol. "Wish we weren't friends so I could kiss you everytime I like" He chuckled softly before he loosened his grip around your wrist. You quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your position. And then you feel it. Something that you have never felt before. Was it a cringe feeling? Warmth? Love? Scared? You were unsure and you never think about that again until now.

You were pulled back harshly into the reality because the cashier's voice startled you in your seat. She says she has called your name multiple times and thought you were gone already. You let out an awkward laugh and apologized before finally took a leave. It was ridiculous that you were thinking about an event you promised you'd never think again. You realized that you can't fall in love with him because it would be so awkward.

After ten minutes walk from the restaurant, you finally stood outside his dorm with two bags gripped between your fingers. There was something inside your heart that stopped you from rushed in and sharing some bear hug. But you didn't know what is that neither. It does bother you because you feel like you just missed this boy, you really do. You just wanna laugh around with him again, listening to his unnecessary joke just like what you always did on high school. But it seems like a barrier between you and him started to grow in the past year. Things does change and you're trying so hard to accept it. 

You inhaled some air to fill in before typed the pass code lock and stepped inside. He never changed his pass code lock from the day he moved in. He also decided to tell you what is the pass code because you're his closest friends. Once you're inside, it was rather quiet and his handsomeness was nowhere to be found. You're assuming that he was probably in his room playing his favorite games so you headed towards the kitchen right away.

You were about to take out the food from the bag when your phone suddenly rang loudly inside your pocket. Wasting no time, you put your phone against your ear without seeing who is calling while your other hand continue to prepare for the food. 

"Hello this is me speaking.." 

"Hey sweetheart!" A melodious voice greeted you from another side. You could tell the voice was belong to your mother because she always have that little excitement somewhere in the way she talked. "What's wrong mom?"

"Could you come home before noon tomorrow? I'm sorry I feel like— I miss you so much. To be honest I'm kinda worried about you... I don't know why though. What are you up to?" Hearing those words from your mother, you pulled your hand away from the food.

"Got it. I'm—I'm about to eat mom. I'm okay. Don't worry about—" You immediately stopped talking when you feel a presence and something pressed against your butt. Baekhyun.

He put his mug against your butt guiding you to moved away. Just another Baekhyun thing. "Move I wanna get drink"

You quickly moved away and turned around to see the boy bringing his mug into his lips. He was wearing his usual black shirt paired with a sweatpants. Meanwhile his hair is still a little wet from the shower. "Sweetheart? You alright?" 

Right. Even your brain couldn't deny the fact that you missed this boy because it made you forget that you're currently in a call with your mother. "Ah sorry— I'm about to eat. Call you later?"

You were that close to pressed the red button and ended the call until Baekhyun lowered his head against your phone. "Yeah she was about to eat me hurry baby I'm getting impatient"

But thankfully you were quick to react. You pressed the red button and finally ended the call. You shove him hard right against the shoulder caused him to stumbled a bit with a sweet laugh coming from his lips. "C'mon lets eat" He then left the kitchen with the food in his hands without saying another words.

You shook your head and simply following him into the small living room. Baekhyun rarely eat on the kitchen bar because he said he couldn't leaned back when he sit on the high chair. "How's your exam? Good?" He questioned with a mouth full of noodles.

You began to eat softly without looking at him. He also turned the tv on before he starts eating. A random news channel was played in the background and you wasn't really pay attention to it because the cute and handsome guy beside you who was now eating, enjoying his food was the reason. You just can't think straight. Maybe avoiding him for the next month seems like a good plan. "Good" You answered softly.

"You know" He leaned forward while his fingers snatched the soft drink on the table in front of you. He was too close for a second. You could smell his fresh woody scent and it only takes you back into your high school time where he sing his heart out for you on the backyard and pulled you into an embrace for the first time because you were crying. 

"There was a girl.. A new one probably.. She confessed to me. Like she really walking up to me with a chocolate bar and some cute letter in her hand" He took a gulp from his can. 

He was known as a talented, cute, handsome and that hot guy in round glasses after he participated in a music festival last year. It also wasn't the first time he had someone confessed to him. You knew that already. "Was she cute?" You found yourself questioned him again. 

"Kinda.. But you know what" He put his can down on the table and looking into your direction searching for you in the eyes. "She ran away after that.. And—" You finally drew your attention to him and noticed he was holding back his laugh. His expression was too obvious for you. "And— oh God I'm kinda feel bad for this"

You also put down your spoon and raising one of your eyebrow. You were ready to hear his  another unnecessary joke because he never fails you to makes you laugh. "She slipped" 

This time, it wasn't a laugh that escaped your lungs. Your eyes widened immediately as the words finally rolled out his tongue. He wasn't joking this time. "No.. For real? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" 

"God— she slipped two times. I—I was trying to help her—" And then thats it. A deep hearty laughter that you haven't heard for a long time and you've missed echoing against your ears. He was never really changed.

"I was trying to help her for real but she shoved me away and— she slipped again" He trying to explain everything with his hands between his laughter. The next second he got up from his seat and trying to demonstrate how the girl slipped. 

"She was like— slipped or tripped over her own feet before falling down against the floor. Her expression was like—" He then widened his eyes and leaving his mouth wide open before finally bursting out into another laugh. Your giggles also turned into a loud laugh because of his silly expression.

Baekhyun went back to his seat beside you still half laughing. Your fingers immediately went to his arm, clutching into him tightly while your forehead rested against his shoulder for a support because you were the person who had to clinging into something when you laugh and he knew it since high school time. The laughter last long for about two minutes because your boy keep making a sound that escaped his lips when he was trying to stop his laughter.

And when Baekhyun's arm draped around your waist, your laugh suddenly died down and you shifted away from him slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. No. You didn't like the way he touched you because his touch is burning and lingering a little longer against your skin. No. 

Both of you continued to eat in silence. Only the voice of the news anchor against the tv break the silence in a steady tone. Baekhyun hold his spoon between his fingers on the right hand meanwhile his thumb on the other hand busy scrolling through his phone. You were done with your food and took a glance against him. His eyes was focused on the screen with his mouth still chewing.

This isn't the first time you've spent your dinner time with Baekhyun. It would always end up with him rested his head on your lap with your fingers playing with his hair or simply brushed it away from his eyes and listening to him babbling for an hour before drifted off into a slumber. A sight of him sleeping never fails to warm your heart.

You grab the remote tv and tore your gaze away from him into the screen. Switching the channel up and down hoping you would find some movies worth to watch. But instead of finding a movie to watch, you found him stood up abruptly with his eyes still locked to his phone.

"What happened? You alright?"

"Malia.. She accidentally eating something with a peanut in it. I—I should go check on her she's in a hospital right now"

Malia. Malia. Malia. That was the name you heard for the first time exactly one year ago right after the music festival was held. She was pretty. Prettier than you, you admitted that. She was also a clever one. Then you found out that you and her are in the same major. And you didn't really remember how this Malia girl become a lot closer to your friend. They started to hanging out multiple times after that. You? Of course you didn't mind at all.

Also you noticed that Malia trying so hard to be your friend and started to ask anything about him. What he likes, how is his type, what did he do in his spare time. You? You answered all of her questions because you didn't see that coming. 

"Oh.. Okay then" He was rushing into his room to grab some hoodie and a car key when you stood up as well. This is the first time you saw him so worried again over someone after a long time. He took multiple steps quickly towards the door without even looking at you and saying another words. 

You didn't. You didn't see that coming until you saw it with your on eyes on Tuesday afternoon. You were beyond excited because you finally found the book that he recommended to you last month. You couldn't hold your smile that keep creeping into your lips as your feet dragged you towards his dorm. You typed the pass code lock as fast as you can and rushed inside.

You were expecting that he would probably sleeping or gaming in his room but you were wrong. Him, Baekhyun, was kissing a girl on the lips lovingly against the couch. Malia. She was sitting right on his lap with her fingers disappeared somewhere against his hair. Baekhyun, he even had both of his eyes closed enjoying the sparks between two of them. And it was also the time you feel a weird feeling that you couldn't describe. A heartbreak? What for? 

Deep inside, you know this is so wrong. You were just his friend and you didn't have the rights to controlling him thats why avoiding him for a while sounds like the best solution. He was in his happiest state with her, Malia. What kind of friend you are if you dare to take his smile and happiness away?

You weren't expecting that when Baekhyun rushed back in towards the living room where you still haven't moved a bit from your position. His eyes filled with concern when it drifted against yours. "I—I'll be back in an hour—"

"I'll just leave as well, Baekhyun. I'm going home tomorrow. I'll clean this up and leave right after" You turned your head against him. Answering quietly because you were unsure why it suddenly become so hard to speak. 

He simply nodded and you watched his back disappearing from your sight so quickly. Now you could feel your eyes burning hot. Your fingers when to your chest because it feels like it so hard to breathe. You closed your eyes trying to control your breathing because oh fuck you loved this boy but it was too late. Its all too late for now. You have lied to your feelings for a long time. And that was also the time you realized, he is already beyond— your reach.

[moonyswriting]

Surprise

CW: food

Characters by @lumosinlove

I wrote this a while ago, but never uploaded it. Hope you'll like it :)

"No, I wanna go to Narnia. Lemme- I wanna-"

Sirius had a hard time holding back his giggles as he watched his husband roll around in their bed. Leaning over he caressed his hand over the expanse of his sides, drawing soothing lines until Remus stopped moving and talking, going back to his even breathing.

Sirius propped his head over his husbands' sleeping form to be able to see their alarm clock display 11:00. They were never usually able to sleep that long, not because their bodies wouldn't allow it, Remus had proven he could sleep until the evening if no one woke him up, but rather because of their practice being regularly scheduled in the morning.

Now, however they were in the anticipated off season, which meant time to be as cliche of a couple as Sirius could manage. He knew Remus liked it, the fact that the Lions Captain, who put on a stone face mask every time he was on the ice, was able to let go this much and express himself in ways that only Remus got to see.

"Thinking of the devil," Sirius muttered as his husband turned just enough to place a few sleepy kisses to his shoulder, before snuggling into his neck.

Remus pulled himself closer to the taller man, determined to bury his face further into the crook of Sirius' neck than was physically possible. He continued until he got his husband squirming out of his embrace, cranking his neck to the other side so Remus would be able to reach it.

The brunette looked up, slowly blinking his eyes open, a lazy smile on his lips. He would say that was the best part of his day, but he had things planned.

"It tickled," Sirius gave as an explanation, moving back to hold Remus, placing a kiss on his forehead. Then smiled, adding "Good Morning, mon amour."

Remus took a slow, deep breath before leaning over Sirius, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "Good morning, baby."

They both settled back down into the pillows and just stayed there, until Sirius turned to his husband. "You want to get up?"

"No." Remus grumbled back, seemingly half asleep again.

Sirius smirked as he combed through golden curls "I have a surprise for you."

That made Remus peek up. Sirius knew he liked surprises, he didn't quite share the feeling, but loved planning them for him. He especially loved seeing the different reactions of his husband.

First came curiosity and adoration, when Sirius first told him about something he was planning.

Afterwards there was just excitement. Remus seemed to get so much energy through the promise of something unknown. Before a reveal, he could, more often than not, be seen jumping or running around, trying to get rid of the energy.

Then, at the reveal, the first reaction is usually Remus freezing in place, sometimes a hand over his mouth. He seemed so overwhelmed because of whatever Sirius did for him.

The black haired had asked if it wasn't making him uncomfortable, as Sirius himself hated being overwhelmed, but Remus had assured him he loved the feeling in those moments.

The last emotion that Sirius got to see on his husband's face whenever he surprised him was pure love. Everytime he showed the other his surprise it was like Remus couldn't believe he got so lucky.

Sirius felt like it was pretty mutual.

Remus was still looking at him, expectantly and curious.

Sirius sat up and got off the bed, extending an arm to his husband. "Come on. I'll show you."

They climbed out of their bed and Sirius went straight for the kitchen, telling Remus he could just take a nice shower in the meantime, while he was preparing something.

He did and once he was done they both got to brushing their teeth next to each other, fooling around too much to be efficient, but neither seemed to mind.

--

Sirius plans turned out to lead them into a car, the back packed with things Remus wasn't allowed to see. But he presumed everything was going well, since Sirius smiled smugly and that only got Remus more excited for whatever his husband had planned.

He was only a bit confused, when Sirius stopped the car in front of a forest. They both climbed out of the car and Remus was hit by the smell of fresh air and cut wood. The air in Gryffindor wasn't bad at all, but still you could smell the difference in a heartbeat. It was also way quieter than at home, he noticed. There were a few cars driving in some distance, but he could actually hear the birds. Other birds than pigeons that is.

While Remus was still staring at the trees towering over them, he heard something being set down behind him and right after felt arms circling his waist. Sirius placed his head on the others shoulder, kissing his cheek. "It's beautiful, eh?"

"It really is. How did you find this place?" Remus asked, turning around.

Sirius' smile turned into one Remus couldn't quite place until he told him dramatically "I was talking about you, mon coeur."

Remus laughed. He loved that side of Sirius. The one that was able to make a remark so sweet, yet with just enough sarcasm to make it funny.

Placing his hands on Remus cheeks, Sirius leaned down to kiss his nose. Which still managed to make Remus flush. He looked down at the ground. Next to Sirius on were the items he'd hidden in the back of the car. There was a backpack on the left and a picnic basket on the right. "We'll have a picnic?" he asked excitedly.

Sirius nodded, sharing Remus' expression "You like them, non? This seemed like the perfect place."

"Yeah," Remus said dreamy "It's perfect. You're perfect." He leaned up to his toes to kiss Sirius. They broke apart rather quickly though, the black haired walking over to get the backpack and basket.

Before Remus was even able to open his mouth to offer his help, Sirius just took his hand with his unoccupied one. "I'm a professional hockey player. I can handle carrying two things at once, but thank you." Placing a final kiss onto Remus' cheek for now, they wandered off into the forest.

After a few turns Remus wasn't actually sure where they were going anymore but his husband seemed to have a clue as he didn't even blink before making turns. After only a couple of minutes of walking into the forest they arrived at a clearing and Remus stopped right there in his tracks, pulling Sirius into an abrupt halt as well.

"Are you okay?" he asked after Remus proceeded to just letting his gaze dart around the clearing.

He let out a slow breath and held Sirius hand tighter. "Yeah, sorry, this just doesn't seem real."

They stood there for another moment before Remus ran off. He felt like a child, but this looked like it was taken straight from a fairy tale. The sun was shining through the trees, colouring the grass and moss beautiful shades of green. There were little footpaths snaking through the trees, Ivy growing up most of them.

"This is incredible!" still running around, he shouted back to Sirius, who was slowly making his way over to a sunbathe spot.

He heard Sirius laugh. It was perfect. Running over to where his husband had put down a way-too-cliche red and white checked picnic blanket, he just crashed into the other, who had tried to reach over to the basket. Sirius didn't seem to mind being tackled onto the ground by the love of his love, placing a burst of kisses all over his face.

"It's beautiful. Don't worry our wedding day will forever be the best day in my life, but this is up there on the list so far."

Sirius had known Remus would like this, of course, that had been the reason for the surprise. However, what he hadn't expected was for the other to love it this much. Seeing so much joy on Remus' face was probably the best thing to happen all week.

Sirius positively beamed "I'm so glad you like it! Took quite some time to find this place, but definitely worth it."

"Definitely," Remus said as he settled back onto Sirius. They just played there for a bit, until the shorter mans stomach growled.

"Ah, yes, food." Sirius adjusted his position, reaching over to the basket.

His husband sat up, making a nice space in front of them for whatever Sirius had brought. Placing the basketball next to him he pulled out item after item and set it in front of them. Once he was done he was done, he looked over at Remus, who seemed confused, yet impressed.

Sirius just smiled and got to explaining "We have some drinks of course: Water, Tea and Coffee; Then of course food, because I know you're hungry and I'm almost done, just wait another minute:" Remus put his head on Sirius shoulder as he continued explaining, "We've got a fruit salad I actually made -i'm pretty proud of that- then some grilled cheese in there so they stay warm, turkey sandwich, with cranberry sauce of course, some cut up vegetables plus dip and of course chocolate cake provided by Celeste, which is as close to on the diet plan as she could manage without it losing the taste."

"Wow," was the first thing Remus said, looking over all the things laying out in front of them. "Most of this is not even close to on our diet plan, but honestly, I couldn't care less. This is absolutely adorable, baby, thank you." There was that look, the one full of love with nothing else at all to distract from it.

"You like it? It's good, nothing missing?" Sirius asked. He was pretty sure Remus liked it, but he needed to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Remus turned his head, moving his hands to his husbands cheeks, successfully turning his head to face him. "It's perfect and I love it." He kissed Sirius. "I love you."