#it's so much easier when i already have the f/o picked out ahead of time

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <33

[a-kaash-me-outside]

not fair - ch5

in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer...

previous | ch5 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// "don’t question me again or i’ll leave." ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʏᴀᴍᴀɢᴜᴄʜɪ ᴛᴀᴅᴀsʜɪ ~ 8656 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ minors dni super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), threesome, vouyerism, size kink, weird feelings, use of character first names, degradation, oral f!receive, dom/sub undertones, coming untouched, stop light system, dirty talk, name calling, coming twice, plot-heavy, pegging, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ (one more chapter left?!?!?!) ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

It’s one of those phone calls that you hope goes to voicemail. 

Hey, Tadashi, just wanted to let you know that Kei and I were coming to get the car and boxes tomorrow. Sorry it’s been there for so long. That’s all it had to be. You’re repeating it in your head, waiting for the polite message and tone to come. 

It doesn’t.

You don’t remember what Tadashi says when he answers the phone, don’t even know if he said anything at all. You pull the phone away from your ear, making sure that he didn’t answer and hang up or that the space between the rings isn’t just skipping. The numbers are counting up, seemingly slower than seconds typically pass by. 

“Hey, Tadashi,” you start. You should have practiced or wrote a script or something, because any words, phrases, questions in your mind are gone now, leaving Tadashi to pick up the pieces once again.

If it weren’t for the tiny breath from the otherside of the phone, you might’ve hung up waiting for a response. He mutters your name first, practically lost by the hestiance and heaviness of the word. “Are you calling about coming to pick up your car?”

��Right, yea, I’m so sorry we left it there and haven’t, uh, been back to get it. We kinda just wanted to give you time because of everything and didn’t want to, yknow, rush anything or give you any trouble or-” you’re rambling on, nervous to stop. Kei rests his hand on your lower back just to let you know that he’s there. 

“It’s fine, really, just, are you guys coming to pick it up?” he asks, interrupting your nervous spiel.

“Yes,” you reply, knowing that you have so much more to say, but not ready to say any of it. After being so intimate with him and Kei, you’d think that it would be easier to talk, like everything’s already been out on the table. It’s not until Kei raises his eyebrows, lets his thumb graze under your shirt and against your skin that you actually get the words out. “Do you think we could come in, too?”

Tadashi isn’t stupid. He has to know what you’re implying or, at the very least, know that the two of you want to talk with him. Kei is staring at you, the room is dead silent, and every second that Tadashi doesn’t answer is more confirmation that you’ve just made a fool of yourself. 

You’re about to take it back, to backpedal without remorse in an attempt to salvage civility, but Tadashi clears his throat, unknowingly interrupting you. “Yeah, that would be okay.” 

Almost too stunned to speak, you’re sure that the surprise was written across your face. “O-Okay, yeah.” It’s heavy in your throat, banging at the back of your teeth, you want to ask, clarify, make sure that you’re on the same page, but you also feel like you should quit while you’re ahead. Kei’s confusion turns to understanding when you give him a wide-eyed, short nod. 

“Alright,” Tadashi replies, but still doesn’t hang up. 

Tsukishima doesn’t grab the phone from you, but he talks loud enough for his voice to make it through the receiver. “Like last time?” 

“Like last time,” Tadashi confirms quickly. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, for sure, see you then,” you reply, “Looking forward to it, Dashi.” You can faintly hear the hitch in his breath followed by the low clear of his throat. 

“Me too.” Click.

You bring the phone down from your ear. The weight on your chest isn’t as unbearable with the assumptions off the table. There’s still a lingering force quickening your heartbeat, but at least you can breathe for now. 

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at Kei.

He shrugs. “That’s what I’m here for, bluntness.”

“And doing the hard things that I can’t,” you scoff. 

He bends down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead and pushing your hair out of your face. “Definitely not all the time. It’s probably like half and half,” Kei says and then tilts his head, “Mm, maybe 60/40.”

You nod, “Yeah, but that seems pretty fair to me.” You pull back, wiping your palms on your pants. “I should bring the thing, right?”

“Why else did we buy it?”

“No, I know, I guess I’m just nervous,” you admit.

“No reason to be. You’ll be great and Tadashi will love it, you know that,” Kei reassures you. 

In theory, you did know that. If you really thought about it, you knew that. The evidence backs it up, the reciprocation in excitement backs it up, and yet you can’t help but doubt the ideas that have been swarming your head since that night. 

The entire walk to Tadashi’s feels heavy, steps dragging, bag weighted, Kei’s hand in yours evident. So many thoughts are taking place in your head. You try to rid them, but you can’t. The conversation from that night is on repeat in your mind. Maybe it’s a good thing, maybe it’ll make you more decisive, maybe the repetition will hammer in these clouded thoughts. 

You thought that the first time coming back felt weird, but coming back the second time comes with a mix of eerie comfort and looming taboo. 

It’s a blur, really, Tadashi answering the door, inviting you inside. You remember the small things like taking off your shoes and placing them neatly next to the spot that you used to every single day and when you shake your head no at Tadashi politely asking if you want a glass of water or cup of tea. The rest of it is lost, second to the anticipation and the thought in the back of your mind to book it out the front door.

You are sitting on the couch. Kei is sitting next to you. Somehow everything in your head is talking at once and they’re your thoughts, but you can’t make out a single one. 

You want to just skip to the part of the night that doesn’t feel like this anymore - fidgeting just to calm your nerves, the three of you sitting in a small circle like a meeting with stale coffee, no eye contact, barely allowing yourself to breathe. Kei’s hand hovers over to yours, slowly, trying not to bring attention to itself, not for his sake or even Tadashi’s, but for yours. His grasp wraps around your fidgeting fingers, his intertwining with yours like they were meant to be there. 

In a matter of seconds, you catch Tadashi’s eyes as they flicker from the intertwined hands in your lap to your eyes back to your hands and then down at his own. You can’t get a long enough look at his face to see the emotion, but you don’t really need a long look to tell you that Tadashi is feeling more nervous than you are now, as if that’s even possible.

How hard would this have been without Kei sitting here right next to you? Without Kei throughout this entire process? Tadashi doesn’t have that, doesn’t get the sweet hand hold or the supportive presence. He deserves it, though. 

You take the first step, hands shaking, breath unsteady as you stand up and move towards Tadashi. You don’t know what to say once you are right in front of him, so you opt for silence. Instead, you take this time to regulate your breathing and focus on the emotions in Tadashi’s face that you couldn’t find before.

All of the doubt that you had last night (and a few seconds ago, for that matter) is fading away. Now that he’s sitting here in front of you, now that you can see the soft features on his face, can feel Kei’s assuring presence behind you, can watch the way that Tadashi waits for your next sentence, patient and attentive. Your hand moves slowly as you reach to cup Tadashi’s face, directing his attention and testing the waters. 

Banging against your sternum, your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest. It doesn’t calm on contact or when Tadashi leans into the touch ever so slightly and it gets much worse when the words tumble out of your mouth. You can’t help them, seeing how pretty Tadashi looks in front of you, getting flashbacks from last week, remembering how good he was for you.

“Can I kiss you?”

You don't know if this sentence takes Kei by surprise, don’t dare to look back or show an ounce of hesitation in front of Tadashi. Besides, at this moment, you’re more concerned about Tadashi, the way you can see the emotions clearly now, but you still can’t read them very well for the sake of how fast they’re changing. But you can read the nod, though slight, of Tadashi’s head after a beat of contemplation. 

The kiss is sweet, warm. You have to bend down a bit more than you’re anticipating, but that only means you get to tilt his head up, bring his lips closer to yours, thumb gently pushing on the underside of his chin, fingers resting against his neck in a way that you can feel his harsh swallow as soon as you pull away. His eyes are wide, struck with something bordering wonderment, and you are drinking it in. 

This has to be exactly what Kei felt like on the night that started it all. 

There’s a surge of confidence for the first time since your last visit, like it’s no longer testing the waters, because you know exactly why the three of you are here. You’re not sure that Tadashi knows, but somehow that makes you feel even more assured, like he’s depending on you to guide him through the night. 

And it really does feel like history repeating itself.

Still, it doesn’t matter how much you see yourself in Tadashi right now and how that means that if he is you then you would be Kei and how you know that if Kei were standing where you’re standing right now, things would unfold a lot differently. Despite the lingering pressure of this new role you’re embodying, you have to ask.

It comes out sweet, warm like the kiss you shared moments ago. “You’re okay with all of this?”

Tadashi’s nod is a touch more certain than the previous, but you follow it up nonetheless. “And it’s alright that I don’t keep asking if it’s alright?” you ask. He nods again. “If something is getting too much or you’re starting to feel uncomfortable, just say yellow.” God, saying it aloud brings you back. You remember that Kei had started touching you, kissing you at this point, but all you want to do is stare at Tadashi, see the understanding and attention. “If something is too much and you want to stop immediately, then say red and we’ll stop, make sure you’re okay.” 

He nods again, but not one curt nod like the rest of them, more desperate, repetitive, like he wants you to stop talking, not because he doesn’t care, but because he knows what’s ahead and he wants it to come faster. You give in, moving your hand down his shoulder, leaning in to press your lips against his ear. “If you can’t breathe, mouth full, can’t verbally communicate, just 3 nice hard taps against me or Kei and we’ll stop.”

A whimper slips out from between his teeth in lieu of a nod, but you want to hear it in stumbling confirmation. “Understand?” mhm��“Say it. Need to hear you say it, Dashi.” 

“Yea- I mean, yea, yes. I understand.”

You stand up straight, towering over top of Tadashi. “I’m in control tonight.” You’re not sure how Kei looks behind you, taller than you, you know that, but you wonder if his height makes you look less in control than you feel. You wonder if his facial expression is making Tadashi doubt your dominance over the situation. You didn’t really talk about this, Kei and you, not in detail, not about power dynamics. Truthfully, if you had, you’re not sure you would be in this position right now.

It’s comfortable for you to be right between Kei and Tadashi in the order of power, but to declare that you’re in control, not just of Tadashi, but just in general, it’s stepping out of your comfort zone. 

“Y-You?” Tadashi asks innocently enough, eyes flitting from you to just behind you where you know that Kei is standing. Part of you, the safe part, wants to quiet down, wait for Kei to answer for you, to either protect you or scoff at the notion. That part of you doesn’t win. 

Rather, you bend down again, eyes level with Tadashi’s. “If that’s a problem, I can leave instead.”

“No, it’s not- I’m not- I didn’t- I’m sorry!” he starts immediately.

“Don’t question me again or I’ll leave,” you repeat. 

“I won’t. I won’t.” Tadashi says, not a promise, but you believe it like one. 

You turn around, look up at Kei. There’s still that voice inside of you looking for his permission, for his approval. You don’t think that will ever go away. This little voice inside of you comes through in the form of a silent question. If it were anyone else on the receiving end you’d think it’d get lost in translation. Am I doing okay?

“What do you want me to do?” Kei asks plainly, unwavering, like it’s not completely left field for him to be asking you for direction. It’s the perfect answer to your question. 

You’re not exactly sure how you’re going to get through this night. You’re exhausted already and you haven’t even really given a command yet. You figure, however, that the best mantra to get you through the night is to just continue to ask for things that you really want. What do you want him to do? 

You go with your first instinct and though your voice isn’t as strong as you want it to be, it feels good leaving your mouth. “I want you to carry me upstairs, want Tadashi to follow. And I want to be placed nicely on the bed.”

Kei moves immediately, hoisting you up and letting you wrap your arms around his neck. There’s no hesitance to just doing what he’s told. You assume, for now at least, that it’s because the tasks aren’t too demanding or degrading. You’ll be waiting for backlash for the rest of the night. 

You don’t have to direct any of the demands to Tadashi. He hears you and he listens, waiting just enough time to give you a breath of space and then following you like a puppy. By the time Tadashi enters the room, Kei is placing you, exactly as you asked, nice and gentle on the bed. 

It’s so much different than normal. Kei is always attentive, always makes sure that you’re taken care of, but it’s so different . His hands follow your body as he lies you down, making sure that there is a cushion of his palm between each inch and the bed as it comes in contact. God, you wish you could feel it on your skin. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” Kei asks. You can��t detect any amount of snide smirk or tone, have to take it as sincere despite months and months of experiences screaming in your head. Your stomach is in knots and you want to say yes just because he asked, but making him wait feels like it’ll have a better payoff in the end. 

“Not yet,” you say, low like a whisper. It’s not loud enough for Tadashi to hear, not meant to show your dominance or prove yourself. It’s a moment just for you and Kei. His eyebrows raise and then furrow, a remark starts to bubble, but he shuts it down before it reaches his throat. You don’t know where Tadashi is, but you don’t care either. You’re following your wants, pushing your fingertips through Kei’s blonde locks and making soft fists. “I want you to want it more.”

You let go quickly, as soon as it’s about to elicit a response, and then you press on his shoulders with the heel of your palm, digging your fingernails into the tops just hard enough for him to really feel it . As soon as he’s stood up, standing at the foot of the bed, so familiarly over top of you, you ask, “Aren’t you going to ask me what else I want?”

He swallows the alternative response and asks just that, “What do you want now, (y/n)?”

You hook your fingers into your waistband. Both Kei’s and Tadashi’s eyes follow the movement as you push your shorts and panties down to your ankles. They’re still dangling off of one of your ankles after you maneuver one foot out of one side, spreading your legs apart and realizing just how bold you’re being tonight. 

You hadn’t realized, though, how wet you had gotten from just a few small actions. It was a mix of the newfound control and the way that they were both listening to you so well. It was the possibilities of tonight and how Kei, right now, was about to do whatever came out of your mouth. 

“I want you to eat me out,” you say. You could’ve stopped there, short and sweet, but the words tumble out and you don’t regret them one bit, “Want you to say please and thank you. You don’t do that very often.” Kei’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t talk back.

“And I want Tadashi to watch,” you say to Kei and then turn to face Tadashi, “I want you to watch. Like last time.” You glance down to the small tent in Tadashi’s pants, let your eyes linger as an added explanation. “Just like last time. Do you understand?” Your tone is a mixture, a condescending softness. 

Tadashi lifts his hand, brings it steadily down to his bulge, but hesitates before touching himself through the fabric. “Now?” he asks. 

You give a small laugh, “The show hasn’t even started yet, but yes, if you’re that desperate.” 

You don’t know how quickly Tadashi is to start to touch himself because Kei hooks his arms underneath your legs and pulls your pussy against his mouth in one motion. You keep repeating to yourself that you’re in control. You have to keep reminding yourself or you would, probably instantaneously, slip back into doing whatever Kei wanted you to do.

Actually, even while you’re repeating to yourself that you’re in control, every part of you wants to close your eyes, lay back, and just let Kei do whatever he wants to do, and you know that tonight is all about what you want, but this is a once in a lifetime experience and you’re going to take advantage of it. You grab a fistful of Kei’s hair, pulling his head away from you in a way that surprises both of you.

“Say please.” It’s not nearly as cocky and confident and strong as you want it to be. In fact, it’s followed by an airy laugh from yourself because it’s so out of place. “Kei, baby, say please.”

“Please.” It’s not nearly as pleasing and desperate and appreciative as you want it to be. You cock your head. 

“That doesn’t sound like you really want to eat me out,” you furrow your eyebrows. You tighten your fist in his hair. “So say please.”

His eyes widen and he groans at your harsh grip, “Please, can I eat you out?”

“I still feel like you don’t really want to taste me, baby. I feel like you don’t want to bury your face in between my legs and eat me until I come all over your face.” You’re talking down to him now and the confidence is building in your chest as you watch his facial expressions shift. His mouth is basically watering. “I know you want that, so why don’t you ask really nicely and maybe I’ll let you.”

The pleasing, desperate, appreciative tone that you wanted is there and, with it, a bit of embarrassment to have to ask for something you usually beg for. “I- Please, can I please eat you out? I want to taste you and eat you, please.” His voice is more timid than you’ve ever heard it and it’s making your stomach flutter more than how close he is to you.

“You’re gonna make me come all over your pretty face, aren’t you?” you ask, slowly pulling his face towards your pussy. He’s moving with you, mouth opening as he gets centimeters away, but you stop him. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” he nods, trying to finish the motion and bury his face in between your legs.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’m going to make you come,” he mumbles. You can see just how much he wants to skip this part, but you’re having so much fun.

“Where am I going to come?” you smirk.

“All over my face,” Kei answers, knowing full well he’s not giving you the answer that you want.

“All… over… your…,” you say slowly, tilting his face upwards to look you directly in the eyes, watching the warmth spread across his features.

“Gonna make you come all over my pretty face,” Kei finally finishes.

“Now say please,” you tease.

“Please,” he says quickly.

“Pretty please?” you push on.

“Pretty please, fuck, (y/n), please let me eat you out. Please. I need to fucking eat you out. I need to feel your come on my tongue, need to taste it, need to please you and feel your thighs against my cheeks. Pretty please,” he spews, hoping that this time he actually gets to do what he’s been wanting to do since he knelt between your legs.

The last thing he sees before being pulled into your pussy is your huge smile. “Good boy, see, that wasn’t too hard.”

Between your legs, Kei has some ounce of control. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to make you squirm and even though he had to say please a million times to get here and will have to stop when you say stop and follow your orders as you give them, until then, he gets to do whatever he wants. 

There’s no teasing, no build up. You’re so wet, dripping from teasing him and the control you felt with Tadashi. Kei doesn’t let a drop go to waste, running the flat of his tongue between your lips and prodding at your hole with the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t want to waste another second without his tongue deep inside of your tight little hole.

He fucks his tongue in and out of you, pressing his face as hard into you as he can in an attempt to get his tongue so deep inside you. You help as much as you can, both hands at the back of his head, pulling and tugging at his hair, clawing at his neck and back and as far down as you can reach. He knows how sensitive your hole is, feels it quivering against his tongue. 

He knows your body better than you do, knows exactly how to make you come. After all of the teasing you did, all of the talk, he can’t think of anything he wants more than to make you come as quickly as possible.

You weren’t going to stop him. 

“Holy fuck, Kei, oh my god.”

His lips are moving against your clit as he tries to fuck his tongue into you deeper. He’s moving his entire face, the tip of his tongue harsh against your hole as his nose nudges against your clit. The motions are perfectly repetitive just like he knows you like it. The louder that your moans get and the harder that you start to squirm and the tighter your hands grip, the more motivated Kei is. “Gonna, fuck, I’m gonna come all over your pretty face,” you tell him between moans.

Your core is tightening and your body is convulsing, but you can’t let go. You need to hear him. He needs to tell you. You want him to tell you. “Kei, fuck, tell me. Please, tell me. Let me come, please. Please.” There is no remorse, not even after the fact. Part of that comes with the lack of snide remarks or tone from Kei, the other part comes with just how close you are and how hard you’re about to fall.

“Come, baby, come all over my pretty face, please, please come for me. Please come all over my pretty face,” he says against your pussy, but you can hear each word so clearly. That’s all it takes for you to come undone. You let go, head hitting the mattress harshly as you grab onto his hair even harder. His name is the only thing coming out of your mouth, the only thing on your mind until it isn’t.

“Again, again, again,” you say, repeating as you nod at him.

He listens instantly, diving back between your legs and continuing to eat you out. He doesn’t have to tell you to come the second time or the third or the fourth. You let them roll over you like waves, coming as soon as your body allows you to. 

“Okay, okay, fuck, okay, that’s enough,” you breathe. He doesn’t stop, driven by the pure bliss in the reactions you’ve given him and the way that you dropped control for a passing moment. He wants to feel it again, taking control from you. You almost let him. “Fuck, Kei, enough,” you repeat, more stern this time. 

He lifts his head from between your legs, face a mess, hair tangled, breath ragged. “What do you say?” you ask, not even letting him compose himself before responding. 

“Thank you,” he says, and honestly, he looks just as grateful as the labored appreciation sounds. 

You push yourself up despite how much you want to just sit with Kei’s warm cheek against the fat of your thigh and despite how tired you are from everything that just happened and despite how you want to hear Kei thank you forever. “Kei, get him prepped for me, yea?” You miss the initial reaction from Tadashi, only catch the end of his attempts to compose himself and the lasting redness on his cheekbones. You don’t say another word until you’ve made it to the doorframe. “Dashi, Kei’s in charge while I’m gone, listen good, okay?”

You catch the faintest glimpse of Kei’s smirk as he stands tall once again, making his way over to the corner of the room that Tadashi was frozen in. The second that you’re out of view, you let yourself breathe, let your shoulders slump and your legs wobble as much as they want. You grab your bag that you left at the front door and change in the familiar bathroom closest to the top of the stairs. 

You went all out, decided that if you were going to do this, you were going to do this right. The thick main harness was just one part of the intricate buckles, straps, and fasteners. You had tried it on before, the first time that you got it. Kei helped you put it on, tightened the straps and moved each piece so it fit snug and comfortable. 

The top belt sits on your waist, thick faux leather straps with buckles on each side adorned to a ring that rests on your stomach. The second set of straps holds the main ring in place, two fasteners tightly fit against your hips. You slide the dildo into the ring before tightening the straps to your liking. It’s heavy between your legs, thick and lengthy, deceivingly lifelike to the touch and eye. 

As you’re putting the finishing touches onto your look, fixing the harness and making sure that everything is exactly as you want it to be, the soft and subtle noises that you’ve been hearing from the other room become louder. The noises quickly fill the entire upstairs. You’re sure at this point that Kei has asked Tadashi not to hold back, has told him explicitly not to. 

There is a lot of gratitude coming from Tadashi and only as he’s practically screaming can you hear what he’s thanking Kei for. 

“Thank you for getting me ready for (y/n),” Tadashi cries. “Feels so good, so good, fingers feel so good thank you, Kei.”

It sends a shiver down your spine, the amount of desperation and the sincerity of the thank you.

You gently press open the cap to the lube, letting a stream of the cool liquid coat the top side of the silicone cock. You use your thumb and palm to spread it over the skin, twisting your wrist and slathering the slick liquid all over, pouring a generous amount on the tip and watching it drip from the head. You know that it’s not really yours, that it’s not actually attached to you, that you don’t feel from it, and yet, as you push your hips forward, as the cock slides between the hole you’ve created with your fist, your core feels warm and you let out a small moan. 

The walk back to the room feels like a mile. You know that the two of them are undoubtedly too enthralled in their own actions right now to notice you at the door. It’s not a bad thing though. You get to watch for a few moments. They don’t know you’re there, aren’t acting in any sort of way for an audience or praise. 

Tadashi has taken your spot. His legs are high in the air, held up by his hands grasped around his ankles. Kei holds a bottle of lube in one hand and is fucking 4 fingers into Tadashi’s hole with the other. 

Tadashi’s cock, rock hard and angrily red, is slapping against his stomach every time that Kei’s fingers bottom out. The back of his head is pressed into the mattress so hard, but his eyes are trained on Kei, bottom lip quivering whenever involuntary noises weren’t tumbling from them, sheets bunched up against sweaty palms. 

You could’ve watched this all night. You’re sure that if you hadn’t interrupted them they would’ve continued all night, partially because you didn’t give them instruction to stop, but also because the determination and joy in Kei’s demeanor matches Tadashi’s desperation perfectly. There’s something about Kei’s actions that makes it incomparable to how he acts with you, something about the fact that even though he’s in control, he’s just following directions. 

“Is he ready?” you ask, followed by an observation, “Looks like you’re just doing this for him now.”

They’re startled at your voice, immediately taken out of the intense moment that the two of them were in, but there’s no disdain for the deprivation of the transfixion. The only word to describe the look on their faces is gawking. There is less surprise in Kei’s given he’s seen you in it before, but that doesn’t stop the harsh swallow or the dwelling gaze over your chest, down to your waist, following the straps. 

Tadashi isn’t as subtle. His face is bright red, blushing, gasping for air from just being stretched. He pushes up from the bed, props himself on his elbows, and just stares. You can practically feel his heartbeat from where you’re standing in the doorway. “Is that for me?” he asks, void of the confidence the question deserves, tongue wetting his lips. 

You walk over, agonizingly slow, cock in hand. “Why don’t you turn around and I’ll show you?”

By the time you’ve made it to the edge of the bed, Tadashi has scrambled over himself and gotten on all fours, as if any delay would result in you giving up on the notion. You climb onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as you take in the sight before you. Tadashi looks rigid, not knowing when the next order or movement is coming, eyes forward on the pale wall. 

The second that the soft skin of your palms comes into contact with his hips, he melts into you, pushing back into your touch. His shoulders slump, head falls down, staring at the comforter below him instead. “Is this alright? Are you ready?” you ask, leaving one palm resting on his hip, but using the other hand to guide the tip of the dripping dildo against Tadashi’s stretched hole. 

The answer is evident in the urgency of his whimpers and the desperation in his reactions, but you need to hear it coming out of his mouth. “I’m not going to fuck you until you tell me you’re ready for it,” you clarify. 

“Yes, yes, I’m ready, please,” Tadashi answers. 

“Good boy.” There’s only a second between the finishing of your praise and you pressing your hips forward. It’s slow, but the pace is necessary no matter how badly you want to watch him take it all right this instant. You’re using your hand to guide the thick cock into Tadashi’s tight hole. You don’t need to physically feel it to know how tight it is, to see the rim swallowing the dildo. 

The moans and whimpers have ceased, replaced by labored breaths and diffused whines. You’d ask him questions, try to elicit some sort of verbal reply to the process, but he looks so focused on taking your cock. Still, you guide him through it, not just with the small kneading that you’re doing into his hip and the slow pace you’ve adapted, but with small coos of appreciation. “You’re doing so great, Dashi, fuck. It looks so good back here, you taking my nice thick cock just like that.” 

As soon as you don’t need your hand to guide the dildo, you lace it into Tadashi’s hair. It’s so soft. You can barely grasp any of it, can’t reach until he picks his head up and pushes it back into your hand. You feel disgustingly powerful now, hand weaved into Tadashi’s hair, slowly thrusting in and out of Tadashi’s ass. 

It takes a few beats for Tadashi to fully stretch around the girth of your cock, but with every gentle fuck into him, his whines turn back into whimpers which turn into throaty moans. “Can I go faster now?” you ask with a genuine softness. “Can you handle it?” with less genuine softness. He nods, choking out a few yeses amongst the noises.

You reward him with praise once again, “Good boy, huh, Tadashi? Are you my good boy?” You punctuate the question with a hard thrust, your hips meeting his ass in one fluid motion. His hair is tugged by your harsh grip and, with it, his lax body every time that you pull your hips away. 

He’s putty in your hand, malleable. The harder that you fuck him, the louder his moans get, the more power you feel. “Fuck, Dashi, it’s like I can fucking feel how pathetic you are squeezing my goddamn cock. So tight, so fucking perfect.” Your hips are on fire from repeatedly slamming into him, your palms are so sweaty that you can barely get a good grip, resorting to using your nails to anchor in place instead. Praise keeps falling out of your mouth so quickly that you’re not even sure what you’re saying half the time. It’s fast and you’re in control and he’s listening to you and you’re so drunk with this feeling. 

You can’t stop ramming into him, glad, actually, for once that you can’t feel how good Tadashi’s tight hole is squeezing your cock. It lets you fuck him relentlessly, no worry in the world about stamina even if your glutes and core are on fire from the constant motion. You don’t want to stop, can’t, not with how fucking perfect he looks, not with how fucking obedient he’s being. 

“I know you just want to be good, Dashi, fuck, we’ll teach you to be good, you’re being so good,” you moan. 

It’s like you’re a completely different person here, so vastly different than the last time you were in this bedroom. You don’t miss it, not even a little bit. Well… at least not at this exact moment. 

With no word from you, Kei has just been standing there, behind you, just watching . All of your attention is on Tadashi, soaking in his noises and body language, you’ve barely even noticed Kei. One quick glance over your shoulder and you can see how mesmerized he looks taking it all in, seeing you in this new element. You see the bulge in his pants, the little satisfaction that he is getting from his own palm. After doing so much already, he deserves better than what he’s giving himself now. 

“Do what you do best, Kei. Abuse his throat,” you command, trying to keep a steady voice through your wandering thoughts and thrusts. You don’t have to ask him twice, barely have to finish the three word demand and he’s walking around to the other side of the bed. 

He gets to see the side that you don’t get to see, the mouth agape and wet lashes. All that you get to see is the smirk that plagues the bottom half of Kei’s face as soon as Tadashi is in view. Your thrusts are slower now, but still at a steady enough pace to appreciate the subtle ripples in the fat of Tadashi’s ass, letting Kei get a good hold on the situation, giving up just a small fraction of your control so that Kei can have his way with Tadashi. 

You offer a bit of advice as Kei is undoing his buckle. “It’s easy to pleasure Kei,” you breathe, “You just let him do whatever he wants to you.” You can practically feel Tadashi tighten around you. 

“Open,” Kei says as soon as his cock is exposed to the air. “Wider than that, Tadashi, don’t insult me.” Both of Kei’s hands are braced on either side of Tadashi’s face as Kei pushes the tip of his cock past Tadashi’s lips. “Just like that, good.” Kei’s voice is monotonous, if only a bit condescending. “Keep that hole nice and tight for me.”

You watch Tadashi shiver as he drinks up every single word. Tadashi has been on the reciprocating end of Kei’s smart mouth before, but not like this. Even the last time he was in this room with the two of you, the directions that he was following only affected himself. Tadashi knows how poor he’s been at pleasing you in the past and he really just wants to be good, wants to listen and learn.

Kei shallowly thrusts in and out of Tadashi’s mouth, the head of his cock repeatedly slipping past Tadashi’s wet lips. “Use that slutty fucking tongue, Tadashi. You’re not doing anything, just sitting there getting railed, the least you could do is move your tongue.” Kei lets his head fall back, something evidently changing in the technique that Tadashi is using. “Good.”

The more that Kei seems to be enjoying it, the deeper his thrusts go, the faster his pace. It doesn’t take long for Kei to start using Tadashi like he uses you. If Tadashi didn’t look like he was enjoying himself as much as he did, pushing back onto your cock, whimpering and gagging around Kei’s, you would have stopped and taken his place. 

He couldn’t make you come for years, even as you tried to guide him, begged him as you cried out instructions, but there was something so different about the way he’s going down on Kei. 

You had directed him in the past, nudged his face where you wanted it to be, wrapped your legs around his neck to pull him deeper, but none of it mattered. He just couldn’t make you come. 

But there was something so distinctly different about the way Kei was treating Tadashi. There was no begging or asking, and directing wasn’t the right word, neither was guiding. Kei now has a commanding hold of Tadashi’s face, one hand on either side as he moves Tadashi’s mouth up and down his cock. His hips are still, letting Tadashi’s head bob through the complete motion. 

When Kei’s methods catch your eye, you can’t help but stop to take it in, no longer watching the ripples in his skin as your hips meet his ass, now watching it unfold from this angle, from behind Tadashi, your cock engulfed by his tight hole.

Kei’s long fingers bracket Tadashi’s face, pushing into his jaw, neck, cheek, wherever he could reach, and wherever he needed to adjust to get the most perfect angle. It’s mesmerizing. 

And it’s so different from the way he handles you. Sometimes he holds your face like that, moves you so agonizingly slow on his length that your throat will hurt for days after, but there’s always an amount of trust. 

This in front of you? The way that Kei is so meticulously moving Tadashi, the way that he’s leaving nothing up to assumption or interpretation, this is Kei teaching. 

He’s wordless about it, doesn’t teach Tadashi through verbal instructions or lengthy explanations, he just shows him exactly what he wants. It’s almost more condescending than if Kei was talking down to him in a way, like he’s too stupid to understand what he means, so he can only show him. 

You don’t think Tadashi catches this or thinks this far or has any thoughts at all right now other than controlling his breathing and every single muscle in his mouth and throat. It’s not a normal state of being, you know that well. 

You catch a glimpse of Kei’s face, manage to pull your attention away from the thick cock splitting Tadashi open and Kei’s strong hands on Tadashi’s jaw. His face is strewn with pleasure and concentration. You don’t normally get to watch Kei from this angle nor this intently. You watch his eyebrows furrow together, his jaw clench between slow exhales, his features soften and his eyes flutter close every once and awhile. You’re cursing yourself for never having filmed the two of you having sex. You would watch this on repeat if you could.

“Kei,” you breathe, ready to repeat yourself on account of how quiet his name is in comparison to the lewd sounds that are bouncing off the walls. Kei looks up at you immediately with an air of confusion, waiting for another command or instruction. When nothing else comes, he doesn’t break eye contact like you thought he might. He’s not paying attention to Tadashi save for the mindless thrusting. “God, you look so good right now.”

He clicks his tongue at the compliment, shaking his head a small amount before returning his focus, looking back down almost quick enough to hide the subtle blush on his cheekbones. You don’t force him to look back at you, though you know that you could, but you still want to have some sort of contact with him. You are becoming increasingly aware of how much you want to be where Tadashi is and how much you want to feel Kei’s skin on yours.

Tadashi’s voice pulls you out of it, the repetition of your name that follows his gasping for air. “Want, want to- So good- Need to come,” Tadashi manages to get out in between harsh swallows and intakes of air. 

“Not yet.” It comes out of your mouth without any thought and you realize why Kei does this so often. The sense of power that comes alongside controlling Tadashi’s orgasm is mindblowing. Even if he came right now, didn’t listen to you at all, you would have rode this high for weeks. 

Tadashi does listen, though. He whimpers a small okay before Kei starts using his throat again. You claw your fingernails into his hips, pressing hard enough to leave small indents in his soft skin, and you pull him onto your cock to match your thrusts. “Look at that, see, you didn’t need to cum, not yet, Dashi, being such a good boy.”

Kei only gets to fuck Tadashi’s throat for a few moments before Tadashi is pulling away once again. “I- I can’t hold it any longer, please,” Tadashi’s voice cracks as he begs. “Please.” You pull out in one motion leaving Tadashi gaping and empty in front of you. 

“Then come, Tadashi,” you say in a tone that is eerily as condescending as Kei’s. You run your hands down Tadashi’s side, grabbing onto his ass and spreading him open as wide as you can. “If you can’t hold it, then cum.”

Tadashi is thrusting into the air. “I- I can’t.”

“You’ve come without touching yourself before,” your voice is stern but steady at first, but as you keep thinking about it, there is a simmering underlying anger that is emerging. “Sat right there on the corner of the bed and came in your pants like a pathetic little cuck.”

You grab Tadashi by the shoulder, flipping him over onto his back. “Kei, pillow under his head so he can look at me while I’m fucking talking to him.” Kei doesn’t hesitate for a second, puts the pillow underneath Tadashi’s head so that his line of sight is directly at your face, eyes narrowed as you continue. 

“When no one is paying attention to you, when you’re watching your ex get railed and satisfied in a way that you never could, you lose your mind. You’ll shoot your load, make a fucking mess all over yourself, but when I’m here giving you everything that you could ever want, you can’t fucking come?”

You positioned yourself between Tadashi’s legs, the head of the dildo grazing his hole. “What? When Kei tells you to do it you can, but when I tell you to come after pounding my fat fucking cock in and out of you, you can’t? Do you know how fucking pathetic that is?” 

Tadashi’s chest is rising and falling faster, his breath is labored and he’s not breaking eye contact with you. You can tell just how close he is.

“I won’t tell you again. Instead, I’ll just fucking leave. Come. Now.” You wrap your hand around his throat, leaning your weight into your grip as his face scrunches up in ecstasy. His lips are moving, but no sound is coming out and only when you ease up on your grip can you hear the gratitude that he’s repeating in between the grunts.

His come spills from the head of his cock, lazily dripping down the sides of his rock hard erection and down his twitching balls. He’s struggling to keep his hands at his side and not jerk himself off through his orgasm. 

“Is that all it took?” you scoff, pressing the head of the dildo against his asshole, catching some of his come as it drips down. “Still hard though, right, Dashi? Still want to get fucked?” You don’t give him time to answer before pushing your hips forward, slowly spearing him with your cock as tears fall from his eyes.

“Yes, fuck, please, I want to come again,” Tadashi begs, eyes not leaving yours. 

“Greedy,” you shake your head, but you can’t hide your smirk as you pick up the pace. In this position you get to watch his face as you ruin him. The tears that are running down his face, wetting his cheeks and long lashes, just make it that much hotter. His cock is slapping against his stomach as thrust in and out of him.

It doesn’t take long before his breaths are closer together, back is arching, hips rolling, and he’s nodding in your direction. “I- I’m already so close. Can- I need- I want-.”

“What do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so good, came for me without anything but my voice, took Kei’s cock so well, just tell me what you want,” you say.

No one has touched his cock all night, covered in his own come, violently twitching against himself as it slaps against his stomach. 

His eyes are screwed shut, thrusting up into nothing, consequently fucking himself on your cock, you’re sure that he’s going to ask to touch himself. In your mind, there’s no other option, nothing that he would feel comfortable enough asking for. 

It leaves his mouth so confidently. He trusts you so much, knows that you wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, so he asks for exactly what he wants and he’s so assured as he does. 

“Want Tsukki’s mouth on my cock.”

You look up to see Kei’s reaction, refuse to do it if there is any sort of discomfort or distaste, but there’s nothing of the sort. He gives a short nod, a nod that Tadashi is too fucked out to notice. You don’t slow your pace or allow a falter in your rhythm as you watch Kei climb onto the bed. He’s gentle as he takes Tadashi’s cock into his mouth, captures the head first, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking the entire length. Kei doesn’t seem to struggle much, easily takes it to the base.

Tadashi is surprised despite the fact that he’s the one that asked for it so nicely. His eyes flutter shut, truly taking in every single feeling and sensation that is happening to him right now. Tadashi’s hips are thrusting up into Kei’s mouth now, moaning as he slides down Kei’s throat and then falls down onto your cock. 

“Gonna- Can I? Please,” Tadashi can barely say more than two words at a time, but you know exactly what he’s asking for. 

“Go ahead, Dashi, come, you deserve it.” 

As soon as you say the word, he’s coming down Kei’s throat. You watch it drip from the corners of Kei’s mouth as Tadashi keeps thrusting desperately. Tadashi is thanking you and thanking Kei and mumbling other words that you can’t quite pick up. His hands are roaming, trying to find a place to land. One finds a spot lightly on Kei’s shoulder and you meet the other hand with your own, locking your fingers with his as he holds onto you through his orgasm.

Kei waits for Tadashi to calm down before pulling his head off of his cock. Kei wipes his lips and you can tell there's a smart comment that wants to come out so badly, but he doesn’t get the chance to say it. 

“Thank you,” Tadashi says, eyes shutting every other second. You’re surprised that he’s still awake after two back-to-back orgasms like that. His eyebrows furrow and he perks up just a little bit, “but, wait, what about- what about you guys?”

You shake your head, carefully getting up from the bed, cautious not to disturb Tadashi as Kei gently positions him more comfortably in bed. You unbuckle the straps on your harness, taking it off and stepping out of it. You feel so light without the extra weight between your legs.

You manage to get in bed before Kei reaches for the covers and extra blankets. “This wasn’t about us,” you assure Tadashi. “Thank you for letting us in and for trusting us enough to do this again.” You feel the mattress dip behind you as Kei climbs underneath the covers he’s laid on top of the two of you. 

In the morning there will be more to say, more conversations to be had, boundaries to set and feelings to talk out, but for now… for now you are happily in bed, surrounded and warm, and you know that your company is too. 

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[blu-joons]

DATING TXT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Choi Yeonjun

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Yeonjun loved to tease you with his affection, pushing boundaries was very much a favourite habit of his. His hands would often wonder when he was around you, he couldn’t help himself but try and see where his affection could take him.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You already worked at the company before TXT came together, and so the two of you struck up a professional relationship from the start. You always took great care of Yeonjun as a member of staff, but that didn’t stop him always trying to be a little more friendly with you and try to get you know better than the other members of staff.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

After debut and the group took off, Yeonjun was able to settle a lot more. With that, he couldn’t help but find himself desperate to confess to you as you started working with other rookie groups, having less contact with him. One evening he surprised you at the company, desperate to tell you how he felt about you before he lost the chance. You were shocked, naturally, but there was no way you could ever turn Yeonjun down.

D ⇴ DATES

He loved to get quite competitive on dates and make sure that he could show off to you. You’d spend a lot of dates at sports complex or arcades where Yeonjun could show off his strength, but the one thing he loved to do more than anything else was try and teach you to skateboard. Admittedly, you were terrible, but you knew that it was something that Yeonjun was passionate about, and whilst you were yet to take two feet off the ground without him holding firmly onto you, it was only a matter of time before you’d get the hang of things.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Having never dated before, there was definitely a moment of apprehensiveness as far as Yeonjun was concerned. He knew as the eldest member he had a bit of an example to set for the other members, and a lot to follow up as the next generation to BTS. However, with your knowledge of the company already, he was confident that a relationship was something that the two of you could enter and make sure that neither of you got hurt. He was always going to protect you, even ahead of work, Yeonjun knew what he wanted in life, and was firmly set on making sure he got everything that he wanted without a bother.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Whenever the two of you fought, Yeonjun couldn’t help but get quite emotional. You quickly picked up on the fact that he wore his heart on his sleeve a lot, and when he had something to say, he couldn’t help but pour his heart out to you. The frustrations that would trigger an argument between you both would very quickly turn into sadness and hurt that the two of you could speak so harshly to each other and say so much that neither of you ever meant. It didn’t take long for one of you to crack, usually Yeonjun, both soon figuring how pointless an argument was over whatever had caused it, and how much easier it was to just talk.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You ended up meeting Yeonjun’s family before you started dating whilst you worked at the company, and so they couldn’t have been happier knowing that Yeonjun had chosen to start dating you too. They trusted you, and knew you understood the company and his line of work, and so he’d definitely be happy with you too.

H ⇴ HOME

Being at the dorm was something you loved, especially with Yeonjun having his own room. The boys loved having you around, which was most definitely a bonus for you. The two of you were still young, and neither of you were willing to rush into getting your own home together when your careers were still your focuses.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Yeonjun was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ suddenly on a date night. He’d taken you bowling, and you were losing, by a lot. As you hit the gutter yet again and spun around with a pout, you sent Yeonjun weak at the knees. Before he’d even thought about his words, a reminder to smile and a quick ‘I love you,’ had been muttered, surprising you greatly.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

He would definitely be the type of person to hide any jealous feelings that he had, but again, he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot when he finds himself getting emotional, and so it wouldn’t take long for you to pick up on how he was feeling, no matter how hard he tried to hide it around you. You’d often notice that he’d get a little quieter and his cheeks would begin to flush as he tried to hold himself together. He’d deny ever feeling jealous around anyone until eventually you managed to push him into admitting how he felt.

K ⇴ KIDS

The two of you very quickly agreed that you were far too young for children, and that for the foreseeable future you saw yourselves working hard on your careers instead. Yeonjun still had so many ambitions for TXT, and you were making your way up the ladder at Big Hit. You knew there would be time for the two of you to start a family someday, but you had plenty of goals you wanted to achieve before that time came.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

You loved seeing Yeonjun happy, that was always the most important thing to you. His smile was definitely something that drew you to him, even before the two of you started dating, and even more so since. You knew that he felt the pressure a lot, and there were times when he’d come home with the smile very distant from his face, and so you’d make it your mission to make sure that you found a way to make him smile again. You hated how hard he was on himself, almost as if he wouldn’t allow himself to smile at times, but after a short while with you, he couldn’t help but find himself smiling once again.

M ⇴ MISSING

Being the eldest, he definitely felt a responsibility when it came to missing you. He would try incredibly hard to shrug off any feeling of missing you, but when times were tough, even the mention of your name was enough to make him incredibly emotional. Yeonjun would try and keep things together, but usually after a chat with Soobin, he’d reach his breaking point. It was as if he was a ticking time bomb when it came to missing you, once the tears finally started, it would take a long time for them to stop. Especially, when he called you. You knew each time you hung up the phone that he was going to spend a little while to himself to try and hold it together.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

You often found yourself calling him ‘junnie.’ It began as a bit of tease when you first met him, however as things changed between you, your jokey nickname for him was something that ended up sticking around.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your smile, almost as much as you were with his. He loved to see you happy, just as you always did with him too.

P ⇴ PDA

Yeonjun wasn’t afraid of being affectionate with you in public, but it would always be very subtle. People could often be forgiven for not even realising that the two of you were a couple because you were so conscious of being affectionate and making sure that you didn’t stir up any trouble for yourselves.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He would often ask if you were tired whenever you tried to stay up with him. With a yawn, you’d assure him that you were alright, but as soon as your head rested against his shoulder, you’d be out like a light and proving him right.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

You learnt very quickly that Yeonjun was incredibly chaotic and messy, with meant his room in the dorm was often a tip too. You’d always end up tidying around him and ended up buying him plenty of storage boxes and units so that he could try and keep his mess neat too. Although he’d never use them, and instead throw things on the floor, the thought that you put into sorting them for him meant a great deal to him.  

S ⇴ SEX

Every time the two of you were intimate, Yeonjun made sure to treat you as if you were the most delicate thing on earth. Yeonjun prided himself on being a gentleman, especially in the bedroom, always making sure that you were comfortable and satisfied. He never put himself first, he’d always take care of you first and listen to your body closely, picking up on all the hints you gave him as to what you wanted from him.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Throughout the day you’d often get random messages from Yeonjun, usually seeing what you were up to. He loved hearing how your day was going and making sure you were looking forward to seeing him that evening.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

You were very much a best friend to Yeonjun, and a huge support from the very start of his career. Even before things took off, you were the first one in line to cheer him on, both professionally, but as a partner too.

V ⇴ VACATION

Stories of San Jose had kept you entertained for hours, and so when the opportunity arrived to take a week away from work, there was only ever going to be one place that Yeonjun would take you. He wanted to be able to show you the places where his memories had been made rather than constantly just tell you about them instead.

W ⇴ WHINING

He tended not to whine too much, he appreciated more than anyone when you were busy and was happy to wait around until you had some time free for him.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Whenever Yeonjun was around you, it was very much an instinct to hold onto you and usually press a kiss against your cheek or the nape of your neck. When you were around other people, it was a small gesture he could give to you without having to create a huge fuss about your relationship or make other people uncomfortable. In the comfort of your own home though, he was always more than happy to tease you and push all of the boundaries possible.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his biggest fan, supporting him in every single thing that he did.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Yeonjun never slept, a quality about him that you never understood. You’d usually end up having to drag him to bed to make sure that he rested for whatever schedule it was that he had planned for the very next day.

---

Masterlist

[kirishimaswife2819]

A Night To Remember || Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: You’ve always had a rough relationship with your mother, and you get emotional after meeting Midoriya’s mom

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of verbal abuse and emotional neglect

Notes: y/f/h=your favorite hobby, and I don’t mention it in the story, but in this oneshot, your father isn’t present

A/n: I feel like Izuku’s mom would be so motherly and sweet with Izuku’s s/o, so I thought this would be a cute idea. Thanks to everybody who has requested, I’m working on getting those done. I hope you all have a good day/night! - Danielle <3

Your relationship with your mother has never been a very good one. Sure, she didn’t beat you, and she didn’t ignore your physical needs, but she did ignore your emotional needs, and your mental health. Once you turned ten, you got scolded for crying or being upset about something, she would yell and tell you to suck it up and stop being a baby.

She also found any and every reason to put you down. Whether it was about your grades, your friends, your hobbies, or even your physical appearance, she always found something that she didn’t like about you and she would put you down for it. It wasn’t uncommon for her to call you ‘useless’, or say that you weren’t good enough to become a hero.

That was one of the reasons that you were so scared to meet Izuku’s mother. You were worried that she would think the same about you as your mother did, and that she would hate you. After learning this, Izuku immediately reassured you that his mother was really nice and that she would love you just as much as he did.

It wasn’t that you thought Izuku would lie to you, or that you thought his mother wasn’t as nice as he was claiming. It was more that you were worried that you would be the one exception, and she wouldn’t like you or be nice to you.

You knew you were going to have to meet her eventually, and that you couldn’t push it off forever, but that didn’t make it any easier. But it had been four months since you and Izuku had been together, and although he understood your situation, and how nervous you were, he also knew that there was no way that Inko wouldn’t love you. And his mother had been asking him if she could meet you, and she wasn’t letting it go. Almost every night, Izuku called his mother and talked to her for a bit, and every one of those nights, any time Izuku would mention you, she would ask if she could meet you sometime soon.

And that’s how you ended up in your current situation. You and Izuku were hand in hand as you stood outside of the apartment. Izuku gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, before speaking.

“Can I knock now?” He asked, referring to the fact that you two had been standing there for a few minutes already.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you said, taking a deep breath, and looking up from the ground and to the door. Izuku raised the hand that wasn’t holding yours and knocked on the door. You heard some noise inside, before the door swung open to reveal Izuku’s mother. She looked a little different than she did in some of the photos Izuku had shown you, but that was only because most of those photos were taken when Izuku was a child.

“Hey mom,” Izuku said, giving his mom a smile. She returned it, and immediately pulled her son into a hug. Izuku slipped his hand out of yours, so he could give her a proper hug in return.

“Hi, Izuku, how have you been?” She asked, giving her son one last squeeze, before pulling away.

“Good,” Izuku replied, and he was about to introduce you, but his mother had already greeted you.

“Oh, you must be Y/n. Izuku has told me so much about you,” she said, smiling at you.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Midoriya,” you said, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“You can call me Inko if you’d like,” she said, before stepping back inside and opening the door the whole way, “Please come in.” You followed her inside, and slipped off your shoes, before she led you to the living room.

“Here you both can sit down, would you like anything to drink?” She questioned, as you and Izuku sat down beside each other.

“No, I’m alright, thank you though,” you replied, giving her a small smile. She returned it, before looking to Izuku.

“No, I’m good,” Izuku replied.

“Okay, well, dinner’s almost done, so you two can wait here while I finish it up,” she said, going to leave, before Izuku spoke up.

“Wait, do you need help?”

“No, I’m good, I’ll let you know when it’s done,” Inko said, before going to the kitchen to finish cooking. Since the kitchen was fairly close to the living room, Izuku whispered to you, so his mother wouldn’t hear and start to worry.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, “I’m still a little nervous, but your mom’s really nice.”

“See, I told you,” Izuku said, glancing to make sure that his mother wasn’t looking, before giving you a quick forehead kiss. You two started talking about your classes at U.A. for a while, before Inko called for you two to come sit down. She made your favorite food for you all to have for dinner.

“Thank you, this is so nice of you, you really didn’t have to make this,” you said, smiling as you sat down. You and Izuku sat down across from Inko.

“Oh, that’s alright. I just wanted to leave a good first impression,” Inko said, “I also made cookies for dessert.”

“Thanks, mom, this looks good,” Izuku said, putting some food onto his plate. You did the same, before you all began digging in.

“So, Y/n, Izuku told me that you liked y/f/h, how’d you get into that?” Inko asked, trying to start up a conversation.

“Oh, I’m not really sure, I guess when..,” you started and then went on to explain how you got into the hobby and why you liked it. You were kind of nervous to tell her about it, since your mother had told you that it was stupid and useless, but you didn’t want to just brush off or ignore her question.

“Really?” She questioned, whenever you were done, “That’s nice, it seems like you have a lot of fun doing it.”

“I do, it’s pretty fun,” you replied, before taking a sip of your drink.

“I might have to try it sometime,” Inko said, “What else do you like to do?” The rest of the dinner was filled with Inko asking about your hobbies, or other things that Izuku had told her about you. It was a bit embarrassing to have all the attention on you for the whole dinner, but you got used to it after a while. During the time you were eating dinner and speaking with Inko, you started to find it easier to express yourself around her and talk to her about yourself. How could you not? She was being so supportive about everything.

After dinner, she sent you back to the couch, while Izuku helped her put the dishes in the sink, and put the leftovers away. After that, Izuku came to the couch, and she sat the plate of cookies on the table, along with a few glasses of milk, before leaving you two alone, claiming she had to go look for something.

“I wonder what she’s looking for,” Izuku said, grabbing a cookie and dipping it into the milk, before taking a bite.

“Me too,” you replied, taking a cookie and taking a bite, before speaking again, “Mmm, these are good.”

“I know, my mom makes the best cookies,” Izuku said, smiling at your reaction to his mothers cooking. He was happy how well you and his mom were getting along. Soon, Inko came back, carrying a cardboard box.

“I was grabbing some of Izuku’s stuff from when he was little,” Inko explained, setting the box down on the other side of the coffee table. The first thing she pulled out was a small stack of kids books, the next was a bag filled with a few items of clothing, and the last were two binders. One of the binders was green, with Izuku’s name on the front, and the next was black, with nothing on the front.

“Do we have to show them all this?” Izuku asked, blushing at the idea of you seeing all of his photos from when he was little. Sure, he’d shown you some photos before, but his mother had way more, and it was kind of embarrassing.

“Don’t be like that, Izuku, I’m sure they’d love to see all your photos from when you were a kid. Right, Y/n?” Inko asked, glancing at you. You nodded in reply, and Inko smiled, before sitting down beside you on the couch. She made sure you had plenty of space, before picking up the bag. Inko pulled out various articles of clothing from when Izuku was a baby, and explained the history behind them, but the one that really caught your eye was the last one. It was a clearly worn All Might onesie. Inko smiled as she pulled this one out.

“And this was his favorite All Might onesie,” she explained, “He didn’t even like taking it off so I could wash it.” You reached forward and took the cloth from her hands, feeling how soft it was. Inko smiled at your reaction before going on, “I’m actually pretty sure he started crying when he couldn’t fit into it anymore.”

“Mom!” Izuku yelled, clearly embarrassed by his mother. Inko ignored his scolding, and she watched how happy you were to be holding something that your boyfriend used to love.

“You can keep it if you’d like,” Inko said, causing your head to snap up, and your eyes to meet hers, “You can give it to your own kids if you have any.”

“A-Are you sure?” You asked, “I mean, he’s your son, and I wouldn’t want to take something so important to you.”

“That’s alright, I probably have piles of his old All Might onesies,” Inko said, brushing it off.

“Thank you,” you said, holding the clothing in your lap.

“Now, how about we look at photos,” Inko said, putting the clothes back into the bag, before grabbing the photo albums. For the next hour or so, you all looked at photos of Izuku’s childhood. It was full of a lot of Inko telling you stories, and Izuku yelling at her for embarrassing him. At some point, you all got off topic, and started talking about U.A. and becoming heroes.

“Izuku’s told me a lot about how far you’ve come along with your quirk,” Inko started, before continuing, “He’s also told me that you sometimes doubt your ability to become a hero. But from what I hear, I think you’ll make a great hero.”

“You do?” You asked, unable to stop the tears from forming in your eyes. Your friends had told you multiple times that you were going to be an amazing hero, but it felt different coming from somebody who has been acting like a better mom than your own, even though you had just met her.

“Of course I do,” Inko replied, “You’re a great person, and you’ll make an even better hero.” At this point, you couldn’t stop the first tear that fell and hit your lap. Izuku immediately began freaking out at this, as well as his mother.

“Don’t cry, Y/n, it’s alright,” Izuku said, panicking, and immediately pulling you into a side hug. You were now letting your tears fall. Inko came by your other side and also hugged you, hating seeing her son’s significant other crying because of something she had said.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” Inko said, addressing it for the first time since the night began. Izuku had told her briefly about what your mother was like, and she felt terrible for you, “If you ever need anything, you have me.” You took a few minutes to cry, before you calmed down. Inko pulled away from the hug, giving you and Izuku space before he wiped your tears, and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, Inko,” you said through sniffles, wiping at your wet cheeks after you pulled away from Izuku.

“You’re welcome,” Inko said, giving you a comforting smile, “We still have a whole binder to go through of photos from Izuku’s childhood, do you wanna keep going?”

“I think we’ll pass,” Izuku spoke up, “It’s getting late and we should probably get back to the dorms.”

“Oh, alright,” Inko said, “You two can wait by the door, I just need to grab something.” Izuku led you to the door, and watched as you slipped your shoes on. You were still holding his old All Might onesie, as his mother approached you again. She was holding a plastic container, filled with the cookies she had made, “Here have some for back at U.A.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the container, “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome, Y/n. You’re welcome back any time,” Inko said, before turning to her son, “You take care of them, all right?”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Izuku said, slipping his hand into yours.

“You better,” she said, before giving him a quick hug, “Have fun at U.A., text me when you get there so I know that you’re safe, alright?”

“I will, mom,” Izuku said, before opening the door and guiding you outside, “Bye mom, love you.”

“I love you too, Izuku,” Inko said, before turning to you, “Goodbye, Y/n, I’ll see you sometime soon, hopefully.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” you said, smiling, “Bye, see you soon.” She gave you both one last smile, before closing the door. You and Izuku began your walk back to U.A., both happy about how the night went.

[dinosaurtsukki]

[ too scared to say ]

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader

word count: 1.6k words

contains: slight angst, tsukishima with insecure!s/o cause he’s usually the insecure one in fics, another wedding-themed fic

a/n: had this idea for a while and i’m glad i’ve finally written it. it’s usually tsukki’s who’s insecure and guarded in xreader fics so i wanted to try it out with the reader being insecure this time

i love you.

you're caught off-guard when you hear the words from tsukishima's mouth. you never thought you'd ever hear him actually say them. as much you wished for it to happen, especially after you spent three years of high school doodling his name in the margins of your notebook, it feels too good to be true.

tsukishima looks sincere about it though. you're both seated on the couch in your apartment and even though it's pouring outside and the electricity had died, you can still make out his face in the dim lighting. you can tell it took him a great deal of effort to say that: his eyes are focused on the cushion on his lap as he picks at a stray thread, the sound of his breathing is more audible now as he inhales deeply.

this is the time where you say it back but the words catch themselves in your throat. after all, weren't you the one who got yourself into trouble for being too naive all the time? after leaving high school and all hopes of tsukishima ever liking you back behind, you tried your hand at relationships. you thought every single one of them would be your last, only to find that you had deluded yourself yet again.

meeting tsukishima again, years after high school, felt like a weird universal coincidence that you didn't know if you should thank for yet. even more so when he admitted to his feelings for you back then.

"so, what do we do about it now?" you asked.

"i'd... like to give this a shot," tsukishima said, rubbing the back of his head. you were reluctant, but agreed anyway.

you've said 'i love you' before, more than a few times. and yet, you couldn't say it now.

"aren't you... jumping to conclusions a bit?" you asked, nervously letting out a laugh.

"what do you mean?" tsukishima frowns slightly.

"just, saying that you might not be sure about that yet so... slow down a bit before saying things like that," you shrugged.

"what? you think i don't know my own feelings?" tsukishima scoffs. there's a look of hurt on his face and you can't exactly blame him for it.

"i'm sorry, tsukki," you apologize, resting your hand in the middle of the couch between you except he doesn't reach for it.

"it's fine," he shakes his head, focusing now on the wall in front of him. "i know you're not really the person you once were and, i don't mind that at all cause neither am i. sometimes, it really feels like you have a wall up."

you find yourself flinching slightly at that last part. maybe this is the part when things go south, like they always do. except, you feel sad that it had to happen with tsukishima too.

but he doesn't act like how you expect him to. "if you need time, it's fine with me," is all he says. tsukishima doesn't sound exasperated, nor frustrated at all. but he does stand up and head for the door.

'you can stay,' you think, 'please stay.'

but all you can bring yourself to say is: "take an umbrella. it's pouring outside."

...

that was about a week ago and tsukishima has barely heard from you then. he didn't know what else to do aside from give you space, and also silently regret things. maybe he was too hasty in saying that he loved you.

but, that was what he truly felt, and it wasn't easy for him to say but he did it anyway. 'you're not always losing anything when you open yourself up to someone,' akiteru had told him. and now, tsukishima was riding a bus on the way to his older brother's wedding.

he had just hung his tux on the curtain rod above the window and settled into his seat though when he caught a familiar flash of blue. of course, tsukishima would recognize your favorite dress and sat up in his seat to see you walking down the center aisle. he watched as you looked around for a seat before landing on the last empty one in the bus, which happened to be right next to tsukishima's.

"hey."

"hey," tsukishima swallowed as you approached.

"is this seat taken?" you asked.

"no, go ahead," tsukishima shook his head, his eyes distracted by the familiar dry-cleaners bag that you held in your hands. "let me help you with that," he offered, taking the hanger from your hands and hanging it up beside his tux.

“saeko nee-san invited me to the wedding,” you explained as soon as you sat down beside tsukishima. “congratulations to your brother, by the way.”

“thanks. we all, kind of saw it coming,” tsukishima chuckled. now that you were here, he realized just how much he missed you. 

“i’m sorry for not calling or anything, by the way,” you apologized. “i can’t say that this is all new to me but, it’s just... well... i’ve been in other relationships before and sometimes, it feels like things repeat themselves too much.”

tsukishima nodded, remembering the night when you two met again after so many years. he was working the counter at the bar and noticed you sitting there, obviously dressed up for a date, obviously stood up in that said date too. you were very much different from the young girl who used to invite him and yamaguchi to watch the latest romance movie theaters, the one who sang songs at the top of your lungs in your bedroom, loud enough for those downstairs to here. but that didn’t mean he liked you any less. 

“hey,” he laid a hand on top of yours. “why don’t we just enjoy today? you still love going to weddings, right?”

you smiled gratefully and chuckled. “yeah, that hasn’t changed.”

...

you fully expected to run into tsukishima at his own brother’s wedding and had thought twice about going before talking sense into yourself. and now, you were glad to have gone. 

the wedding was absolutely charming and more than a few of your old high school friends came. you and tsukishima were seated with yamaguchi and yachi at the same table and chatted about old times and what the volleyball duo was up to. saeko looked stunning in her dress and akiteru cried more than a few times during the ceremony. tsukishima looked proud of his brother, and more than a little tired of his new brother-in-law.

“they look really good together,” you sighed, smiling at akiteru and saeko who were breakdancing in the middle of the dance floor, the latter doing much better than the former. 

“yeah,” tsukishima chuckled. “they barely met each other in high school but i could tell nii-chan was star-struck when they met at the shiratorizawa match.”

“and now look at them,” you giggled. “kind of the opposite of us, in a way.”

“yeah, because you were definitely head over heels for me,” tsukishima snickered. you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

“and you were too dense to realize it,” you countered. 

“not exactly. just thought it was too good to be true,” tsukishima smiled wryly. 

“we should have been accidentally locked into a room together to force us to admit our feelings.” 

“you and your romance movie cliches.”

you chuckled at that. “just saying. would have made things way easier for everyone.” you sighed again and remembered the confession letter you had penned to tsukishima before deciding to stash it away in your desk. then, you turned to tsukishima who was watching his brother and sister-in-law dance. 

maybe you were going to enjoy yourself tonight.

“hey, tsukishima?”

“yeah?”

“wanna dance with me?”

...

with the dancing and frequent visits to the wine bar, you ended up enjoying the wedding immensely. but as much as you didn’t want to, it was finally time to go home. you and tsukishima didn’t even bother changing out of your formal clothes before catching the last bus back home. your hair had escaped from its pins and you were definite that there was mascara smudged under your eye. tsukishima’s tie hung loosely around his neck and he had already unbuttoned the upper part of his shirt.

all of the dancing tired him out way more than you, but it was a pleasant surprise for him to comply with your request. you also had the wine to thank for tsukishima deciding to break dance for about a minute when his older brother asked him to. 

as soon as he was seated, tsukishima was out like a light with his head leaned back against the seat and his mouth slightly hanging open. looking at him, you realized that he was someone you didn’t want to let go. dating him was scarier because of that and you didn’t want tsukishima to be one of those people you were eventually going to say goodbye to.

but how could he be that person if you don’t ask him to stay in the first place?

once again, you remembered the confession letter that you had wrote to him all those years ago. there was a tremble in your hand when you wrote down the last line of that letter, so much that it screwed up the writing and you decided not to send the letter anyway. you glanced at tsukishima’s misty reflection in the fogged up glass of the bus before using your finger to write down that line.

i love you

the words looked like they were suspended in the air and fragile enough to be blown away by the wind. with a swipe of your hand, you could easily erase the message.

and that’s when tsukishima wakes up. 

his sleepy eyes travel from you to the message written on the window and his eyes widen when he realizes what you’ve written down. with a smile, he leans over, and writes a word right under your message.

i love you too

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

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[babbushka]

Loverboy

Kylo Ren x Reader x Flip Zimmerman 

3.5k; NSFW (Threesome [M/M/F], costumes/lingerie, dom/sub undertones [Dom!Flip, sub!Kylo, sub!reader], PIV, anal sex, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, crying during sex, creampie/come-dump, hair pulling, birthday sex)

Kinktober Masterlist || Available on AO3

                                           ----------------------

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Flip says over the phone. His voice is clear through the line, he isn’t whispering, isn’t hushed. He must not be at work then, Kylo thinks, as the empty static crackles for a moment, before Kylo hears your laughter in the background, and his chest warms. He hears Flip take in a drag of his cigarette, before the detective instructs, “Be outside in 10.”

The line goes dead, and the second he puts the phone away he sprints up to his bedroom, a whirlwind of slapdash cleaning.  A surprise meant only one thing, meant something special, real special.

A surprise meant you.

The clock ticks and Kylo pulls himself together, racing to the front step to wait. Flip likes it when Kylo follows orders, and Kylo likes following orders for him, and maybe just maybe if he’s lucky…well. No need to go thinking ahead, he holds his breath as Flip’s instantly recognizable truck pulls around the corner, your happy face pressed against the window and waving.

“Happy birthday Kylo!” You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the spot just underneath his jaw.

“Thanks sweets.” He hums low in his throat, as Flip leans against his truck, smoking his cigarette. “What, don’t tell me I get her all to myself tonight?”

“Not exactly.” A little smile quirks up around the camel, and Flip sticks his hands in his pockets, “You kids go have some fun, I’ll be back in a little while I just have to pick up some…stuff.”

“Oh are we…?” Kylo sucks in a sharp breath then, hoping hoping hoping, and Flip can tell how desperate for it he is when he smirks and replies,

“Yeah, we are.”

Flip turns to you and tugs on the back of your coat playfully, asking you for a, “Kiss?”

With a great big grin you give it to him, a smacking smooch right on the lips, and when you pull away Flip gets back into his truck. He drives away, and then standing in the dark of night out on the front step, it’s just the two of you. Kylo can get a hint of cleavage underneath your coat, and he ushers you inside knowing how chilly the November air can be.

“Happy birthday.” You beam up at him, walking with him across the threshold into the cozy homey atmosphere of Kylo’s house.

“You said that already baby.” Kylo locks the door behind you, knowing Flip’s got a key. You all have keys to each other’s places, it just made things easier. Made sharing you easier.

“Well I’m gonna say it again.” You bite at your lip, taking a step closer to him with each repetition of the words, “And again…and again…and again.”

Until you’re within his reach, his grasp. Kylo can smell your perfume off your skin, and your coy smile is just begging to be kissed, but he’s curious, he wants to know why you haven’t taken off your coat, wants to know just how far his surprise really goes.

“What’re you hiding under there? C’mon, you can show me.” Kylo pulls on the sash around your waist, and you swat at his hands with a knowing chuckle.

“Close your eyes.” You tell him, and just like with Flip he can’t not obey your every command, so his eyes close and he listens to the shuffle of your fabric as the coat slumps to the floor, keeps them closed until you tell him, “Okay, open.”

He should’ve been sitting down for this, he thinks, when he sees your body in full view. You’re dressed up like a very sultry sexy rabbit; a bunny-ear headband nestled into your hair, and mesh panties that have a puffball of white right on your ass. You’re not wearing a bra, and Kylo has a hard time breathing, trying to take you all in.

“Oh, shit.” Is all he can manage, as he does sit down then, right on the couch. His cock fills out fast in his jeans, and his palms go clammy from wanting to touch you squeeze you pinch you bruise you.

“Do you like it?” You ask, giving him a little show by tuning and giving him a 360 view.

“You’d give those magazines a run for their money, honey.” Kylo whistles low, and your entire face lights up at his rhyme. “Come sit real close to me and let me get a good look at you.”

Slinking forward, you straddle his hips on the couch. He licks his lips and smooths his hands all over you, feeling how warm you are, how soft. Even the rough spots are soft, and Kylo has to swallow hard to stop himself from waxing poetic over how much he loves you.

“You can fuck me, if you want. He won’t get mad.” You whisper, nuzzling your nose against his.

Kylo knows you mean Flip, because of course you do, you always do. Kylo loves you, but so does Flip, and Flip and Kylo love each other, and though none of it makes sense, it’s all perfectly clear to him. Flip’s not here though, and Flip usually likes to be here, he usually gets real sour when you and Kylo have fun without him. But…

“Maybe I like when he gets mad.” Kylo leans in to kiss you, closing the little gap between your mouths, “Maybe I want to wait for him, to watch me fuck you.”

He knows the words will get you riled up, he knows they’ll make you squirm in his lap. He can feel you’re wet already, can feel the heat between your legs just from how badly you want to get fucked. Kylo wonders if Flip fucked you before he brought you over, some pre-game action like he sometimes likes to do when it’s going to be a long night.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy.” You bite down on his lower lip and suck it into your mouth, worrying it between your teeth.

“Cut it out.” Kylo’s nose crinkles, and you pull away concerned.

“What?” You worry that maybe you’ve hurt him accidentally, but no that isn’t it, so he shakes his head.

“You’re makin’ me feel old.” Kylo pinches at your sides, makes you break into laughter just from the tickling he’s giving you, and you cup his cheeks with both your hands and squish his face.

“You are old.” You tell him solemnly, fighting back a smile so strong that Kylo rolls his eyes and smacks your thigh.

“Flip’s older.” Kylo points out, and you only shimmy your shoulders a little, your hard nipples brushing against Kylo’s black t-shirt.

“I like my men grown up. Kylo I’m so fucking horny right now that if you don’t stick something in me right now, I’ll cry.” You whine, and it’s Kylo’s turn to chuckle, hoisting you up with one big grunt and carrying you to the stairs.

“Oh I’ll get you crying; come on sweets, up to bed where you belong.” Warmth and love blooms in his chest when your arms and legs instinctively wrap around him, your bright laughter and yelps at being manhandled filling his otherwise quiet house.

 When Flip comes back an hour later, he’s sufficiently wound up. Traffic was a bitch and no one knew how to drive, seemed like all the fuckin’ schmucks were directly in front of him on the way there and back. But he was back, and he lets himself in through Kylo’s door with Kylo’s key, the sound of springs creaking and thumping and moaning music to his ears.

“Oh – Kylo, mmm, Kylo that’s so good!” You’re loud, and your voice is raw enough that Flip knows you and Kylo have been going at it for a while.

Flip steps out of his boots and shucks off his jacket, keeps the little brown bag tucked under his arm as he goes up the stairs to join where you both are.

“Never get tired of this pussy, you hear how wet you are for me? What a good girl, fuck that’s good.” Kylo grunts and groans, the slick wet sounds of your cunt filling the air, getting louder and louder as Flip makes his way to the bedroom.

“Y-you’re so big, fuck you’re so big, you and your cock, fuck – oh! Yes!” You’re panting, and Flip just has to hang back and admire the view for a minute.

Your bunny ears are askew on your head, as your entire body bounces on the mattress, Kylo’s hips fucking into you hard and steady. He’s got one of your legs thrown over his shoulder, and Flip watches as your toes curl and uncurl sweetly, your hands grasping at the sheets. Your body is sweatslick, and your panties are ripped, and you’re the most beautiful woman Flip has ever seen, his own personal pornographic princess.

You catch sight of him through your half-lidded eyes, and you smile, a big beaming grin that makes Flip walk all the way into the room.

“What -- ?” Kylo turns his head out of confusion, before he realizes.

“Shh, it’s just me.” Flip says, voice deep and dark and making goosebumps break out over both you and Kylo.

“Hi Philly.” You gasp, back arching into Kylo’s touch as his hips begin to slow.

Flip shakes his head, unzips his jeans.

“Don’t stop.” He orders, and Kylo moans, his cock throbbing inside your cunt from the order.

Flip watches as the strong muscles in Kylo’s back ripple and flex, his arms caging your body in underneath him. He speeds up his pace, sweat dripping from his nose and landing in little splashes on your breasts. Flip licks his lips, wanting to lick up the sweat instead.

“I – oh fuck.” You wail, hot tears clinging to your pretty lashes. Flip strips the rest of the way, until he’s as naked as Kylo, and he climbs up onto the bed. Flip lays down on his side next to you, turns your face to his and slips his tongue in your mouth.

Kylo fucks your pussy as you and Flip make out, the hand that isn’t propping his head up cups at your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you hiccup against his mouth some more. It’s mesmerizing, Kylo thinks, your cunt gripping him like a vice, spasming and fluttering around him from the extra attention.

“How many have you gotten out of her?” Flip breaks the kiss to look at Kylo, who is having a very hard time forming words right now. Flip gently warns, “Answer me.”

“O-only three so far.” Kylo manages, drool dripping down from his clenched jaw as he focuses hard on pleasuring you and coming inside you, the only thing he ever wants.

“Get her to come again and you’ll get it.” Flip seems to read his mind, and Kylo moans and shuts his eyes tight, because he knows what it is, and he wants it so desperately.

You, meanwhile, are a babbling, blissed out mess. You look so pretty with tears staining your cheeks and your lips kiss bitten and swollen, your nipples shining in the low light from all the sweat and drool, the ears bent at such an angle that Flip can’t help but jerk off lazily watching your body get fuckin’ plowed.

“F-Flip hi honey, hi – oh! Kylo, yes, pleasepleaseplease.” You’re panting, gasping, moaning, voice high and raw in the back of your throat as your orgasm hits you, your back arching toes curling eyes pinching shut so tightly that they know you must be seeing stars, “Flip!”

“I’m right here honey-bunny,” Flip kisses you gently, kisses at your lips and cheek and nose and forehead, caressing and cupping your breasts as he whispers, “You’re being good for the birthday boy?”

“Mmmmmhmm, real good.” You tremble, eyes still shut, whole body going limp. Kylo kisses your ankle before letting your leg down, his own come pumping into you, hot and thick. You can feel it, can feel it spreading, joining the other load he dumped into your pussy not twenty minutes ago.

Kylo’s arms give out finally, and he thuds down onto your chest with a moan, more come spurting out of his cock. Flip smiles, tucks some of Kylo’s hair behind his ear and pats his bicep for a job well done. The silent praise makes Kylo’s cock twitch inside you, and you sigh from the feeling.

“Relax for me, don’t pull out.” Flip murmurs, leaving his spot on the mattress to move behind Kylo, draping his body across Kylo’s back.

Flip reaches into the brown paper bag and pulls out the first of his purchases, a generous bottle of lube, that he squirts out onto his hand and warms up. Once it’s no longer cold to the touch, Flip gets to work, easing the tip of his finger right into Kylo’s asshole. It’s easier like this, after Kylo’s already come a couple of times, he’s not so tense and it doesn’t take as long. Flip knows that the longer it takes, the more tense Kylo gets, and while he loves being mean to the big tattooed biker, he figures he’d better be sweet on Kylo’s birthday.

“Fuck your fingers are big.” Kylo groans, his cheek pressed right against your breast, kissing and licking up your sweat almost subconsciously.

You huff out a laugh, because you could empathize with Kylo on that – everything about Flip was large, but those hands of his? Out of this world. Your pussy warms Kylo’s cock and keeps him nice and hard, his hips doing little involuntary motions, rocking back on Flip’s fingers and forward into your cunt, sensory overload only just beginning.

“I know, how many do you want?” Flip asks, because it’s Kylo’s birthday, and he gets to choose.

“To take you? I’m going to need at least three.” Kylo moans out, and Flip grins, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Atta boy.” Flip kisses one of the freckles on Kylo’s back, and as Kylo’s body starts to writhe and buck as Flip thrusts his fingers in and out of Kylo’s ass, Flip takes his other hand and winds it into Kylo’s hair and yanks, with a harsh, “Keep your knees apart.”

Kylo moans, and you can feel a little more come oozing out of his cock into your pussy, making you smile. Kylo loves it when Flip’s a big mean dom, and looks like that’s exactly what he’s going to get. Flip bites down on Kylo’s shoulder, and Kylo sucks on your nipple, moans into your body as Flip manages two…then three thick fingers in and out of his lubed up hole.

There’s nothing but the sound of harsh breathing and moans for a while as Kylo’s body relaxes enough and gets used to Flip’s fingers, until Flip decides Kylo’s ready and he pulls them away entirely, nudging the head of his cock in its place.

“Fuck,” Kylo keens over, his dick fully hard again inside you, his hips wanting to move but not knowing which direction, his brain and spine alight with pleasure.

“Damn you’re tight,” Flip sinks his cock further into Kylo’s asshole, going slow and careful, making sure everything’s, “Good?”

“Yes!” Kylo replies quickly, his thighs shaking, biceps flexing as he pushes himself off your chest to hover over you again, “Yes, fuck, oh fuck – move, please? Please Sir – I – ”

“Beg louder.” Flip growls and yanks on Kylo’s hair again, and you moan from that, from how authoritative Flip can be.

“Ohhh fuck Flip, Flip – Sir, please move, please I’ll do anything, fuck me, fuck me hard Sir, please!” Kylo’s got no qualms about submitting to him, he wants it, he wants someone strong and capable like Flip to make him feel good, wants to please him the very same way he wants to please you, his perfect girl under him.  

“Keep fucking her, give it to her, all of it.” Flip orders, and that’s a task that Kylo would rather die than disobey.

Flip thrusts in and out of Kylo’s hole, and with it, Kylo thrusts in and out of your pussy. It takes a couple minutes before the three of you find a perfect synchronization, but once you do it’s magic. Your eyes are rolling back into your head, your whole body shakes and you moan moan moan, as Flip tugs your leg up and over Kylo so he can pin you down in a position where he can fuck you deep.

The sounds are obscene, nothing but the slip and slide of come, of lube, of sweat and of tears. Chests heave and bodies fit together in a perfect sandwich, one that makes Kylo almost delirious with lust, bliss, pleasurepleasurepleasure.

“Kylo please, I want more, just a little more?” You sob, feeling perfectly filthy, getting fucked while Kylo gets fucked.

“I’m dead, I’m dead this is Heaven and I’m dead.” He speeds his hips up, and you throw your arms up over your head, your tits pressing together and bouncing in his face, the headband practically falling off your head as Kylo kisses you open-mouthed and wet.

“Hnnnggg,” You moan, losing the ability to speak as you come again, as pleasure crashes through you under the weight of your two boys, you shout and cry and come come come, and Kylo and Flip aren’t far behind.

“Be good. Good boys get to come in their bunny’s pussy, isn’t that right ketsl?” Flip pants down in Kylo’s ear, his balls smacking hard against Kylo’s ass.

“Uhhuhhh.” You’re no help really, but the way your face is so fucked out does the job enough to make Kylo turn his face and regard Flip with big brown eyes.

“Harder.” He pleads, and Flip smirks, leans down and kisses Kylo gently on the lips before smacking the back of his thighs loud enough for the noise the ricochet down the stairs. “Flip please, please I’ll fucking do anything, please – harder, faster, fuck it’s so good.”

Flip adjusts his angle just a bit and Kylo nearly collapses flat on his stomach, tears welling up in his eyes to match the salty mix on your cheeks, and he knows he’s found Kylo’s prostate. Once Flip’s found it, he doesn’t dare let up on it, dragging the full length of his cock over and over it as hard and fast as he can, his own muscles tensing up, his stomach fluttering and flexing from wanting to come. Flip gives you a look, and even through your glazed cloudly vision you know what it means.

“Eyes on me baby.” You mumble, caressing and rubbing Kylo’s chest and stomach with your nearly pleasure-numb hands, “Come in me, my pussy’s not full yet, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Fuck!” Kylo shouts, as Flip rails into him hard, as he rails into you, until you’re grinning with satisfaction, your brain sizzling like Pepsi-Cola, another hot load being forced into your already overflowing cunt.

Flip pulls out gently, and Kylo pulls out of you with as much effort as he can manage, his cock still coming and oozing thick hot white ropes onto your thigh. Come is already leaking and dripping out of your cunt but Flip only pushes it back in with his cock, assuming Kylo’s position above you and thrusting into you just long enough for him to come in your pussy too. He knows your body is sore and overwhelmed, he knows you’re fucked out of your mind, so he’s soft-spoken and gentle with you.

“Let me see.” His voice is a deep caress on your mind, and even though he sounds a million miles away from the waves of pleasure that sweep through you, you hear them when he tells you, “Legs open, ketsl.”

“Hi Philly.” You beam, your body so loose and limp and numb from pleasure that your legs fall open easily, only moaning a little bit when Flip pulls out and admires the creampie that he and Kylo left behind. He knows that Kylo did most of the work, but the night was still young, and Flip had more surprises in his little brown bag.

“Hi precious.” Flip watches the come ooze out of you, smiling at you and rubbing your thigh soothingly, feeling how it trembles under his touch. He turns to Kylo, who is trying to get his breath back from the fucking Flip gave him, and he hums out a warm laugh. “You did good, Kylo. I think you deserve another present.”

“There’s more?” Kylo’s eyes open wide, anticipation eager across his face.

Flip rummages around in the brown paper bag for the second purchase and surprise of the night, a vibrating plug that he tosses to Kylo. Even with a sex-addled brain, Kylo’s reflexes are sharp, and he catches the plug easily. You grin, you knowing slutty bunny rabbit you, and Kylo can feel his cock twitching again, impossibly horny, especially when Flip licks his lips and says,

“Oh, loverboy, we’re only just getting started.”

[burning-omen]

Break the Rules part 2

Peter Parker x Male!Mob boss!reader

Summary: The next morning with reader, Peter, a unexpected (and unwanted) guest, and an even less welcome anxiety attack....fun, right?

Warning: a little bit of anxiety and a small anxiety attack. OH AND GUNS! I ALMOST FORGOT! Murder threats and mentions too!

Part 1

Word count: 2879

A/n: Writers block is kicking my a*s so part 3 might take longer. Also, there’s a scene that I f*cking hate so much, like reading makes me want to cringe so hard, there’s nothing wrong with it, I just wish I went somewhere else with this chapter.

Oh, Peter also forgets his pants at some point, just a little heads up.

Last time: You settled down in your own bedroom, hanging your coat and tie up by the door before drifting off to sleep.

Now:

The next morning you woke up, only to hear Peter loudly exclaim “what the hell!” From the other room.

You groaned then sat up, still hearing Peter panicking in the other room. You made your way to him, only to see him sitting on the bed with the most panicked expression you’ve ever seen on a human person.

“Peter...relax yourself..”

His eyes snapped over to you. “Where am I?!”

“Fucking Christ…” you groaned. You’d woken up with a headache that felt far too similar to a hangover for you liking. “...you’re in my house. Yours was swarming with police and I wouldn’t want them to see me or you. Understand?”

He nodded slowly.

“Good, so you're done yelling then?”

He flushed red then nodded with a small chuckle.

“Sorry…”

Groaning again, you said, “it’s fine, just come down stairs when you're ready, okay?”

“O-okay..”

“Great..” with that you walked out of the room.

You honestly had no idea why you were being so nice to Peter. You’ve never shown this kind of hospitality to anyone before. So all of this was very new to you.

Maybe this had something to do with the sudden thought you had last night.

You walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. The entire bottom floor had been completely illuminated by sunlight making cooking yourself and your guest a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and sausage a lot easier. You were a little surprised that there was food in the house. Then you remembered that you’d been paying your neighbors to bring in groceries every few weeks.

You heard light thumping from upstairs then saw Peter emerge from the stairway...with no pants. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the sight...he knows he’s not wearing pants, right?

From the looks of it the answer was no, he came and sat on one of the stools on the outside of the counter then folded his arms and laid on them.

“Sorry for taking so long…” he said through a yawn.

You cleared your throat a little then said, “it’s fine.” With a small voice crack. “It seems you’ve made yourself at home..”

He laughed softly and said, “I hope you don’t mind. Your house is just very relaxing to me.”

“I don’t mind at all..”

The house was silent other than the sounds of you preparing both yours and Peter’s plate. He looked up at you suspiciously.

“What is it?”

“Just...why are you being so nice to me? Like I understand that you want me to work for you but it seems like it’s…”

“It seems like what, Peter?”

He picked up the fork on the counter and twirled it in his hand.

“I don’t know… To me it looks like you want me to do more than just work for you…” he said, getting quieter and quieter, sinking down farther into his seat as he went on.

Well fuck. You see, you’re not the best with emotional confrontation. Or emotional anything for that matter. You could easily put on a simple “I’m Just A Suave Kind Of Person” act but that just makes you look like a fool because this has gone far beyond just being charming.

“Well...” you cleared your throat, trying to find the right words for the moments. “You see, I’ve just bee-“

You were cut off by the very loud sound of your front door being practically thrown off its hinges by no other than Markus Cane, aka one of the lower level(but not bottom tear) players from your more “private” games. He was very clearly enraged. More than likely about his recent losing streak, an unfortunate occurrence that's bringing him closer to being kicked out of the game permanently. Now he's broken into your house while you have an important guest over, which has just brought him a lot closer to death.

But, instead of letting the growing rage inside you show you spoke to the man in the calmest of tones.

“Markus Cane? What brings y-”

You were, once again, interrupted by him.

“You mother fucker!” He shouted, “You’re the reason my life has gone to shit You and your little games!”

You rolled your eyes at the disheveled man, “Is this about you losing the last few games? Because I can assure you that your...inability to play a proper game has nothing to do with me. I only run fair games, it’s your own fault that you lost.”

“Bullshit!” He pulled a pistol out of the waistband of his pants and aimed it straight at you...Sort of.

It was obvious he hadn’t slept in days, he had dark circles under his red bloodshot eyes. His hands shook and his body swayed as a clear sleep deprivation. He was delirious.

“You’re always pulling the strings in those games! Always behind the scenes telling the croupiers what to do! You set me up!”

“Trust me, I had no interest in your downfall..”

He looked at you with confusion, “‘Had’?”

“Yes Markus, had. I don’t know if you noticed but you’ve broken into my house, throw ridiculous accusations at me and now you're threatening my life, all of this done in front of my current guest of honor. At the moment I want you dead.” You said, your tone never changing.

Markus stumbled backward, the weight of what he’d done crashing down on him. He backed himself into a wall, his hands shaking so hard that he dropped the gun. It seemed as though the safety was still on so it collided with the ground without going off.

Peter, who you hadn’t been too focused on at the moment, rushed to grab it before settling back onto the stool, setting it on the table. All done while keeping his eyes on the man, who was now overcome with the realization that he was more than definitely dead.

“L-listen man, I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a joke!” He stuttered.

You walked from around the counter, placing your hand on Peter's shoulder for a moment before moving forward towards the man.

He was frozen, mouth agape watching you.

“Now, I would normally kill a fool like you who decided to interrupt my peaceful morning, but I have a guest and that would be rude. And the clean up would take hours, hours that I don’t want to waste on idiots like you. So i’ll give you ten seconds to get as far away from here as possible..” Your voice shifted, turning to a lower, more threatening tone.

Markus stared at you for a long moment not moving until you said, “You have 5 seconds Markus..”

He was out of your house immediately, slamming the door behind him.

You turned back to Peter, who was staring at the door Markus had run through moments before.

“Peter?” You said, your tone changing from the anger laced one you used earlier to a much softer, calmer voice.

He turned to look at you, his eyes wide and bright as though you hadn’t just threatened to murder someone.

“Yes?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter next to him.

“I think it’s time for us to go.”

He nodded, hopping up from the stool.

“Okay, I’ll go grab my shoes from upstairs.”

“Mhmm, make sure you grab your pants while you're up there..”

He looked at you with confusion clear on his face, “What?”

Without looking back at him (less in a respectful way and more in a ‘I don’t want to start staring’ way) you gesture downward.

He looked down, then blush quickly took over his face.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” He shouted before running up the stairs quickly.

You went up a little after he did, heading to your own room. Quickly getting yourself ready for the day ahead of you, grabbing your tie and putting on your shoes as you exited the room.

By the time you were done and heading back down the stairs Peter was already there (with pants this time) staring down at his lap, blush still covering his face.

“Are you ready to leave?”

He nodded, more than likely too embarrassed to speak at the moment.

“Alright, lets go.” You walked over to the door with Peter right behind you, grabbing the keys from the small table next to it.

The both of you walked out, the sun was beaming down but a cool breeze evened out the temperature.

You unlocked the car doors, watching Peter slide into the passenger side quickly. You got into the driver's seat and started the car. You drove in silence for 20 minutes, every so often Peter would look over at you like he wanted to say something but would always go back to fumbling with his hands in his lap.

You decided to interrupt his anxious cycle, besides you were almost at your place of business and you wouldn’t be able to talk to him until after he was done with whatever work he has to do today or if he was suddenly brave enough to walk all the way up to your office on his own, which you doubted he would.

“Is there something you want to say, Peter?”

He stumbled and tripped over his words nervously, creating an illegible sequence of sounds.

“I can’t understand you, Peter, you need to relax..”

He stopped, taking a long breath before speaking again.

“If I wasn’t there, would you have killed that man?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t want to talk about it but he felt like he had to know. Did he really change your decision that much? So much that you went from Yes Murder to No Murder in a matter of seconds.

“Probably. I don’t usually take any kind of disrespect from anyone, ever… But, you were there and I didn’t want to subject you to that, especially this early in the morning.”

There was a long silence after that.

Peter didn’t know how to respond and you had nothing more to say on the subject.

As you drew closer and closer to the large building both of you worked at Peter felt as though he should say something, you offered him a job, taken care of him while he slept and cooked him breakfast so he figured some sort of thanks was necessary. (You also didn’t murder a guy because of him but what ever.) By the time he figured out what he wanted to say to you, you’d already arrived at your destination but that didn’t stop him.

“I-I…” He started, but all the things he planned to say died on his tongue when you looked over at him.

His internal monologue turned to one word in that moment. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He gulped, feeling a knot coil in his chest and in a very sudden moment his mind was on fire. Not a single coherent thought ran through his head and he felt his throat close up. So he did what he always did in moments of anxiety, he left. He opened the car door and ran into the building, not really realizing that you had to go in there too. But at that moment it didn’t matter, he had to get away. He had to get away from you, being in that car with you was throwing him into a weird anxious panic. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know why. But once he was away from you it got better.

You were less confused than Peter was, you’d watched him long enough to know that speaking was a problem for him. Especially in situations where he felt he needed to speak but he still felt rude and interruptive if he did. But then he was flooded with the many thoughts of how it could go wrong or how the other person, the other person being you this time, would feel, which would panic him and cause him to leave as fast as possible.

You understood, he was having a hard time speaking, he panicked, he left.

It was a bit rude of him to leave your door open but you could excuse it just this once.

You got out of your car, locking the doors then pocketing the keys. Slamming your door shut before walking around to the other side and closing the door that Peter had left open.

As you walked inside and up the stairs you could feel multiple eyes watching you. Before you disappeared up the stairs completely you looked down at the many low level idiots below, and then you spotted Peter. His cheeks were a dark pink and his eyes were teary, he stared down at his feet, tapping the left with the right every few seconds. He looked so upset, not quite sad or angry just…upset.

Seeing him like that hurt. It hurt a lot.

You made him feel that way, not intentionally, no. You would never, Still, he was feeling that way because of you.

You wanted to help him, to comfort him and tell him that everything was okay but you know that you had piles of work you couldn’t get behind on. They were important and then needed to be done. That had to be done, it wasn’t opsional.

And then you remembered something that made you want to grin like a cat.

This is your business. This was your building. These were your workers.

You were in control of everything that happened here, you chose what was important.

And what was important to you right now was that boy downstairs that was looking like a kicked puppy.

So you walked back down the stairs, cut through the large group of associates that flooded the lowest floor and got to Peter.

You gently grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest and rubbing his palm slowly with your thumb. He didn’t meet your eyes only staring at your hand clasping his.

“Peter?”

He didn’t respond but you could tell he was listening.

“Would you like to go home?” You asked in a low voice.

He quickly shook his head no.

“Okay, okay...where do you want to go? I’m not letting you stay down here, not with how you are right now.?”

He looked up at you for a moment before slowly pointing to the ceiling with his free hand. It took you a moment to figure out what he meant.

“My office?”

He nodded and squeezed your hand tightly.

“Alright, lets go..”

In seconds you were pulling the shaking boy behind you up multiple flights of stairs. In the time it took you to get to your office you’d become winded, while Peter on the other hand looked almost completely fine. His chest rising and falling a bit faster than normal but other than that there was no indication that you’d dragged him up a shit ton of stairs.

Once you caught your breath you gently guided Peter to the chair he’d sat in the previous night. You leaned back against the front of your desk, your hands on either side of you, keeping you balanced.

“So… Are you feeling any better?”

He didn’t respond for a long while, and for a moment you thought he wasn’t going to.

“A little...I-” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to regain control of his thoughts, “I thought getting out of the car would help but just...being in there with all those people, I-it only made it worse. For a second I felt like I couldn’t breath, it was sudden an-and unexpected.”

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped yourself.

“Honestly I don’t understand why I was suddenly so nerve wrecked back in the car. I’d been fine the entire ride but at the end I just...wasn’t.” He looked up at you quickly. “I’m not always like this, I swear! I just…”

“You’re having a rough morning, I get it. It happens.”

“I-I know, I guess I should have at least tried to handle it a bit more professionally,” he muttered.

You laughed a little, pushing yourself off of the desk and leaning closer to Peter.

“I’ve seen you in your underpants, it doesn’t get more unprofessional than that..”

His face immediately flushed red, stammering he refused to meet your eyes, “Sorry about that…”

“Don’t worry about it, you were tired, it’s an easy mistake to make..”

“Yeah, at home. Not at the house of a man you don’t even know the name of.”

This made you freeze, had you really not told him your name?

You felt you face heat up, visible or not you brought your hand up to your face, shielding yourself from your own embarrassment.

“O-oh crap..” you muttered to yourself.

You cleared your throat, straightening yourself out in a moment.

“You’ll have to forgive me Peter, I hadn’t realized that I never told you..”

He looked up at you with a soft smile and said, “I-It’s fine, honestly. It was a simple mistake.”

“Well then, let me fix my mistake. I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you..”

[luluwquidprocrow]

echoing, echoing

ellington feint

teen

2,968 words

the only way out of town is by train.

unless you’re ellington feint.

ellington feint has a really hard time in a train station, the fic: featuring big trauma vibes/denial/identity issues 

“That can’t have been the last bus,” Ellington insists, leaning forward. “It just—”

The short, round-faced man behind the station ticket counter smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “There seems to be a problem with the other engines, and they’re not up to—”

“They were fine earlier,” Ellington says. They were. She checks the buses in every town, frequently, throughout the day, and these buses had been fine.

“Well, buses, miss, they’re, they’re finicky things,” the man continues. He breathes through his smile as he talks, and Ellington’s hands clench together on top of the counter between them, twisting tight. “But, you know, I think they should be up and running by morning.”

Morning.

The smile slips off the man’s face. Sweat beads on his forehead, a terrible shine in the yellow overhead lights. “But, the train,” he tries, fumbling through the papers on his desk and pulling out a folded schedule, holding it out for her, “the train, that comes in in just an—”

“No, thank you.” Ellington pushes away from the counter, stalking the short length of the bus station. She has to get out of town, as soon as possible. She’s spent too long here as it is. Three years on her own has been more than enough to teach her that the less time she stays in one place, the better. A few days in some small nameless town with too much empty space is certainly enough. She isn’t going to stop now because some bus isn’t running. She’ll figure out something. Ellington always figures out something.

She makes her way behind the two little rows of metal benches and over to the coffee machine by the window, a shade drawn down against the night. She’s not hungry, she’s never hungry, but a cup of coffee would be nice. It always helps.

Ellington pushes the buttons with more force than she really needs, and the machine whirs and thuds in return. She takes a styrofoam cup from the stacks on the nearby table and slides it under the tap and watches the coffee drip impossibly slow into it. She tries to time her breathing to the drip so she can calm down. It only makes her start thinking again. The old thought comes back, a jagged, angry line shaking through her, her nails digging into her palms, her back teeth grinding. That boy took everything Ellington had, didn’t he, including her French press. She never got it off the train. But he didn’t take this. She still has this.

A reflection slides up and over the smooth surface of the coffee machine.

No, Ellington thinks. Not here.

The long, distorted figure creeps behind her, an impenetrable blur for a face. It gets simultaneously smaller and larger as it moves, disappearing and reappearing in bursts, cutting around the curve of the buttons and along the silver body of the machine.

Ellington whips around, her hair flying.

No one’s there.

The machine gives a harsh click. The coffee stops dripping.

For bus station coffee, it’s not terrible. Ellington’s tasted worse. She drinks it quickly, her back flat against the wall, her eyes on the ticket man as he shifts papers from one side of his desk to the other. She really can’t stay here. If he’s already found her—she doesn’t have much chance if she takes off on foot. She doesn’t know enough to hotwire a car. She could break into a shed and steal a bike, but how much faster is that than running? But she will not get on that train.

She takes the last sip and turns her head to look at the doorway she’s been avoiding. The bus station connects to the train station next door through a set of wooden double-doors on the wall across from the coffee machine. She’s not taking the train. But there has to be someplace to hide in there. There’s barely any space in the bus station, just the benches and the ticket window counter, the coffee machine and a utility closet. And if he’s been in here once, it’s only a matter of time before he shows up again. What’ll she do then? The ticket man certainly can’t do anything about him. He probably doesn’t even realize she’s still in the room. If she keeps moving, at least she can look. She can get somewhere else, if only for a moment. Keep going, she thinks. Keep going, Ellington. She can’t stand there forever.

She casts another look around the room. Then she throws away the cup and walks to the double-doors, nudging them open slowly.

It is bigger. The train station expands out in front of her, a high, domed room where the light must pour in during the day, quiet and alone now in the dark, barely illuminated by flickering little sconces on the tall wooden beams lining the walls. More seats, collecting in the space between her and the empty ticket counter on the far wall. If it wasn’t a train station, she thinks, maybe it would be nice. But it is, so it sets off a nervous ache under her skin, vibrating through her bones. Ellington grips the strap of her purse. At least, at least there are definitely more places to hide here. Just for that, she feels slightly more at ease.

Once, she’d caught a look at the man. It hadn’t been that long after she left Stain’d-by-the-Sea. He showed up in one town, then another, then another, not long after she would. Always a step behind her. The same tall figure, in his same dark hat and coat, with the same straightforward, calculated gait. He would be across the street at a payphone, behind a newspaper on the corner, a few seats behind her on a bus. That was when she saw him head-on, when he got on the bus after her.

She recognized him. He’d been on the train that night. So then she had to be two steps ahead of him.

It’s good, though, to have seen him that time, to know the face that’s after her. To know what he looks like, to have a solid image of him, to see a young but drawn face with a short beard, makes him more real and less of a mystery. Otherwise, from behind, sometimes she thinks he almost looks like—

Don’t, Ellington tells herself firmly. Her lips press together. That wasn’t him. She shakes her head and reminds herself. Her father in the kitchen at home in Killdeer Fields, making her breakfast with the morning sun at his back. Her father in the library across the street from their house, reading to her. Her father, alive and next to her, telling her a story about birds, his voice calm. Armstrong Feint. Nobody else. My father was a wonderful man.

She keeps close to the walls as she walks. One of the local maps framed between the beams catches her eye, and she draws near, moving her finger over the glass until she finds the name of the town. She’s a lot closer to the city than she thought. She hasn’t been traveling with any specific aim, just to get farther and farther from where she’d started, but Ellington figures that the city might be better than a million small towns. There’s a lot of things she can do there. It’s big enough for anyone to get lost in. She can disappear in there and get a job, find a place to live, she can be anybody. Or maybe she can be Ellington Feint there.

She takes a step back, her stomach seizing up into her lungs in an instant. No. Somehow that’s the last thing she wants to be. It’s so stupid, it’s her own name, it’s the person she is—Cleo Knight was easier, something in her says. Filene N. Gottlin was easier. Anyone was easier. She shakes her head again, trying to rattle the thoughts out. What she needs is to get out of this town, out of this train station. How long until morning? She should’ve bought a watch somewhere along the line. There has to be a clock in here somewhere. She tears her eyes from the wall and looks around through the gray shadows.

Creak.

Ellington stays rooted to the spot. She can’t see anyone else, but that doesn’t mean much, with all the darkness. The noise splits through the room a second time, a floorboard bowing from weight. She listens. She moves closer to the center of the room and out from any light cast from the sconces. Nothing. No sound at all. She holds her breath and doesn’t hear anyone else breathing. Not the whistle of the ticket man, not the heavy breathing of the man in the dark coat. Not a single thing.

But there, again. It sounds like it’s coming from the opposite corner, on the other side of the ticket counter. One footstep, and then another. Another. Another.

Ellington shoots across the station, towards a door at the back. She grabs the handle and pulls, but it sticks, stutters under her hand. The footsteps pick up. Please, she thinks, pushing her shoulder against the door.

It gives. Ellington falls inside and slams the door behind her. The handle can’t possibly deter him for long. She gropes through the dark, feeling for a light switch, and knocks against one by the door jamb. It’s another utility closet, cramped and close, barely stocked. She looks around—a mop, a stool, a little box of light bulbs, a door wedge. She snatches it up and jams it into the slit of space under the door. She’s not sure if it’s enough, but it’s going to have to be. At least for a while. But for now, there’s a door between her and the man in the coat. More than usual. That helps.

Ellington slides herself down to the floor between the box of light bulbs and the stool. She takes a long, deep breath. It’ll be fine. She’s safe in here. The man is out there, and she’s in here. She’s safe.

You’re safe, Ellington thinks. You’re safe, Ellington. She repeats it, and it echoes in her head until it almost starts to sound like someone else, distorted by memory. She frowns. She hears a rumble in the distance, low in the floor, the train pulling into the station. Someone else used to tell her that. Someone had taken her hand, said it softly in her ear, like—

You’re safe, Ellington. Her father had told her, a long time ago, when Ellington was six and scared of the shadows on her bedroom wall. He had smiled at her. In the darkness of a train, he turned around and smiled at her. He sat beside her on the edge of her bed and smiled at her. He pointed out the silhouettes, her sweater curled on her chair by her bed, her record player, in the corner of Handkerchief Heights, he pointed them out to her, picked them up and held them close in his arms like a child and turned to her and smiled at her. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

She was six and her father was smiling. She was thirteen and Hangfire was taking off his mask and he was smiling. She’s sixteen and trapped in the utility closet of a train station, hearing an engine roar, watching him turn and look at her.

It hits her in the chest, a hollow thud against her ribs, knocking everything off center. A delayed drop rippling through her. Armstrong Feint; Hangfire; her father.

You lied to me, Ellington thinks, her whole body shaking. That whole time, you lied to me. 

Why would I lie to you, Ellington? Her father had asked. His face is in shadow, then and now. The train clatters in the distance. Ellington can’t breathe. You’re my daughter.

Ellington pushes the heels of her palms into her eyes. Stars burst in the black and turn into that sweater on the chair, Hangfire holding the Bombinating Beast statue, her bedroom, a smile that looked nothing like the one she remembered, the lines between them all blurring. “Stop,” she whispers, “stop, stop—”

Don’t be unreasonable, her father said gently.

I never forced her, Hangfire said.

Nothing can hurt you.

No one can force Ellington Feint to do anything.

Nothing will hurt you.

A human being is like any other animal. If it wants something enough, it will do anything at all.

She’s there too, splayed out on the floor of the train car, playing dead, doing anything and everything. She has to be dead now, that’s the only explanation for the roar getting louder in her head and all of this and to think of the two of them together as the same person, a father, a murderer, a human being, a monster, someone who knew her and had her under his thumb the whole entire time, hands around her throat, firing a poison dart right at her and knowing he could’ve landed the hit, he could’ve tossed her aside the second he didn’t need her anymore, what else would he have needed—

Hangfire could’ve killed me. He could’ve killed me for real. The Armstrong Feint in her memory frowns. The Hangfire burned behind her eyes flickers in and out of sight, behind flashing lights in a train car, his back turned away from her. He can’t even look at her. He didn’t even look at her, the second he had his hands on that statue. Would you have killed me?

I didn’t want to kill her, you know, Hangfire had said on that train.

But you were lying to him, Ellington thinks. We were lying to him. Were you lying to me?

What kind of father would do that? What sort of daughter was she to do that? When would it have ended? What would he have asked her to do, how much more would she have done? She’s terrible; she’s sick; she’s twisted—she is a Feint, through and through, and she will wind up just like him—

Maybe there are more important things. That boy’s voice cuts through everything, like it always did, and the anger bursts inside her, fear and disgust and hate boiling—

It’s all I have, she’d said. Even now, it’s true, isn’t it? She isn’t capable of anything else—

“No!”

Something shatters against the wall. All the noise stops. Ellington looks up, blinking, her right hand on the floor. Shards glint dully at her feet. She must’ve grabbed a light bulb from the box nearby and thrown it.

She breaths carefully, letting the sound fill up the space of the closet, until her fingertips start to tingle and she feels lightheaded, so Ellington pushes her back against the wall and closes her eyes. She curls her hands together. Okay. Okay, okay. It’s not okay. But she doesn’t know what else to do. If she starts crying now, she’s never going to stop, and she can’t.

She thinks of black turtlenecks. Jazz music. Coffee. Cats. Saxophones. Short nights. Cold, brisk mornings. No masks. No lies from anyone. Worlds without trains.

Ellington jerks awake to the handle on the door turning. Immediately alert, she shoves back against the wall, but when the door opens, that short ticket man stands there, looking mildly perplexed. He smiles, gives the handle a little jiggle and points at it.

“Been meaning to fix that,” he says apologetically, his voice still whisper-thin and high. Ellington’s almost relieved to hear it now.

“What time is it?” she asks.

“Just past ten,” he says. “The bus, if you wanted to catch it, it leaves in about twenty minutes—I’ll, I’ll go get a ticket for you—”

Ellington stands up. “Thank you.”

Back in the bus station, he presses a small ticket into the palm of her hand, and smiles one last time. Ellington tries to manage one back, but he’s already turned towards his desk.

Barely anyone stands on the concrete square strip outside the station. A couple, an old woman, a kid in a hat watching the road with his back to her. The man in the coat is nowhere to be seen, for now. She rubs her thumb over her ticket. She’ll go to the city, and, figure something out. She always figures something out. She’ll—she’ll figure something out.

A flash of brown catches her eye, someone moving quickly along the platform. Ellington turns out of habit to look.

The whole world slows to a stop around her. She feels each breath like inhaling water, dragging heavy through her lungs. That kid, that boy, older now, almost her height, walking off the concrete, a thin, fraying brown jacket draped over his arm. He pulls his hat down low over his eyes, a too-familiar gesture.

Ellington runs.

She pushes someone out of the way, careening over the platform, her heart pounding in her chest, her hands, her ears. He’s here. He’s here and Ellington is going to grab him. She darts after him, a blur moving faster and faster, over the grass, beyond the station building. Lemony Snicket. She’s going to shake the answers out of him, she’s going to kill him. Lemony Snicket, dead. Lemony Snicket, swallowed whole. Lemony Snicket, snapped up by a narrow, endless jaw, too many teeth, so many bones, what he deserves—she’s so close—his jacket flickers in front of her—

Through and through.

She stops, just for a moment—she stumbles against the wall—a noise catches in her throat and she keeps going—no, something, anything else, anything—she keeps going—she rounds the corner of the station—

She’s alone.

[liannelara-dracula]

Uta x Human Reader, please? The reader is like Uta, quiet and really artistic. They decide to check out his shop bc artt. And they get really interested in eachother and oops their hearts go 💓 (I'm sorry haha) Also can the reader be shocked but still cool with the fact that Uta's a ghoul?

Hi. No this is a great Idea I just hope this is to your liking I spent a lot of time on this so I hope it's good. Since the reader is a girl I do think that her personality is slight different but I did try to follow along with what you requested.

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    It was Saturday and you were ahead in everything you needed to do. Classes were over, your day was off, and you figured you’d get out to fill the void. You forced yourself out of your comfy bed and f/c comforters to get ready to go somewhere. You brushed the small knots in your hair making your h/c locks soft again. Once you were ready and changed into an outfit you liked you stepped out of your apartment and wandered around the streets of Tokyo. 

    A sigh escaped your lips as you strolled down the street after feeling like you had been everywhere when in reality you had only gone to a couple of places. You looked to the left side of the street that was the more run down and abandoned part of town. This was literally the only part you never checked out very much. You had been there a few times only to meet with some of your classmates from school but you never knew too much about the place.

    I guess it couldn’t hurt to explore. If I feel unsafe I can always run right back anyways.

    As you walked down the street you placed your earbuds into your ears to play the music you liked on your phone to not feel as lonely as you walked. You walked around many buildings searching for a store that piqued your interest. Your e/c orbs widen at the title written on the nearby store, HySy ArtMask Studio, you stopped thinking it would be cool to check out. 

    It looks a little empty but maybe there just aren’t that many people who need masks at the moment. I hope something looks cool in there.

    As you approached the studio’s door you turned the knob of the door to enter inside as a bell jingled, signaling that you had come in. Your fingers removed your earbuds from your ears and placed them into your purse. Stepping inside the medium-sized building with art hanging on every wall, there were all different types of masks. Ones that made you shiver from how dark they looked and others that made you awe from how they were beautifully constructed. The heels of your shoe’s soles clicked on the checkerboard floor as you moved to have a look around the place. It seemed a little strange that the store was so vacant yet it was open.

    I wonder if there is anyone actually working here? I hope I'm not intruding.

    “Hello?” Your voice echoed through most of the building.

    “Um, excuse me. Is anybody here? Hello?” You asked again, walking further around the building.

    You stepped further in the building only to trip on displaced tile, “Ahh!”

    “Ouch!” You winced at the pain you felt in your knee.

    “Are you alright?” The sudden voice of a male had caught your attention as he helped you up.

    His black hair tied into a ponytail and his pale features with a few piercings on his face as an accessory. His hands, arms, and neck covered in ink designs-he’s appearance wasn’t typical to see but it wasn’t unappealing. The lad’s loose yet fitted clothing seemed to match with the rest of him as it was also dark in color.

    He is kinda attractive. . .

    Feeling a little uncomfortable you moved from his grip and dust yourself off, “Yes, thank you. And sorry about it.”

    “Your knee doesn’t look so well.” He stated before helping you up and placing you onto the cold surface of the shop counter.

    “Wait here I’ll get a bandaid.” He started signaling for you to wait as he went up the stairs.

    “Oh you don’t...have too.” You frowned seeing he’d already left to get you a bandage. 

    While sitting on the counter you looked around yourself noticing the place a bit more. Your e/c orbs scanned the room most of it being dark and not many lights were put up. While looking you noticed out the corner of your eye, a jar of some sort. Taking a closer look, you slipped off the counter to take a look at the jar. A chill went down your spine realizing what was in the jar, eyeballs. Human eyeballs were in a jar in this very shop, which meant the owner was a ghoul. This wasn't a complete surprise considering that you were in a more run-down part of town. But still, you didn’t ever think of it as such a common thing. Though you weren’t too worried seeing you had met a ghoul once which also just so happens to be one of your best friends. 

    The sound of footsteps coming towards you signaled he had returned, “You got off of the counter, it must not hurt as much..”

    “You're a ghoul.” Your voice calm even though you were slightly terrified after saying that. Placing the jar back on the table it was on, you turned to look at him seeing his eyes change, he seemed surprised yet threatened. 

    “I'm sorry I made it sound like that's a problem, I must have hurt your feelings.” He looked calmer seeing your alarmed expression turn to a frown as you said this.

    “I promise it doesn't bother me, my friend happens to be one too, and sometimes she tells me to carry snacks for her and so I do. See?” You admitted holding out a small package of ‘food’ that you'd carry when you were with your friend.

    “It's not something I really like doing but she's someone important to me so that's why I don't mind doing it.” You smile somewhat thinking of the friendship you had with her.

    It was there where he had returned to being calm, “That is a sweet thing to do. You are quite brave for a human girl. Though that wound might tempt other ghouls that live around here. What do you say, shall we treat it?” He offered holding the bandaid in one of his tattooed hands.

    Before you could say anything he helped you up onto the counter once again. He kneeled down holding your calf up making it easier for him to wipe the blood off with a tissue. Once he disposed of it in the trashcan he applied the bandage on your cut and bruised up knee.

    “I'm sorry about your injury, I should be getting new tiles soon.” He smiled helping you off the counter.

    “Oh it's not your fault it just happens, but thank you.” You replied feeling at a loss of words by this point.

    “Well, let me know if there's anything you'd like or if you'd want a mask custom made.” He said returning to the work on his desk.

    “Wait, you've made all of these?-that's so much work.” Of course, you were surprised you had to be.

    “It's just one of my hobbies.” The tattooed male stated bluntly.

    It was impressive considering he made every single one on the wall. You could never imagine yourself making all of those masks. The labor work was definitely a lot and so was the time spent to make them. His hands are probably used to work by now.

    “Well, they look really nice.” You cheered as a smile appeared on both of your faces.

    “You are an artist as well?” He inquired, studying your behavior.

    You nodded at this letting out a small laugh, “Yeah, I just don't make masks though. I but I did make this dress I’m wearing.”

    “Well the color really does suit you. Especially with the arrangement of flowers on it.” He complimented you on the detail of it as you both got lost into talking about the time it takes to make things.

    For a moment things felt a little different, there was a sweet silence surrounding the both of you as you looked up at him. Your heart skipped a beat from how much you had in common with him and from how much you agreed with him. While you were thinking in your own head, he seemed to be thinking of something as you tried to pay mind to your surroundings. But before you knew it your attention was brought right back to him. 

    His hand grabbed your chin gently as he examined your face, “I see, you have such beautiful eyes, I bet you are poetic as well.” His expression seemed to look a little curious while he sounded amused at the same time.

    You blushed, “O-oh um thank you but I'm not so sure.” Soon he let go and your cheeks returned to their normal skin tone and you felt a little more relaxed.

    “Well, I'll leave you too looking. My name is Uta.” 

    You smiled a small smile before introducing yourself as well, “Oh well thank you, Uta, I'm Y/N.”

    “It’s a lovely name, it reminds of (favorite flower).” He commented, making you blush again.

    “Oh that is my favorite flower.”

    “I made a mask with those kinds of flowers painted on there. Would you like for me to show you?” Uta piqued your curiosity by this point and you were excited to see his work seeing he was so talented.

    “Sure I don’t mind.” You said as you followed him to one the counters where the masks were kept sealed in the glass cabinet as they were probably more expensive seeing they were kept inside.

    He pulls out a key from his pocket and opens the lock on the glass door to slide it open. Once he does he picks the masks with your favorite flowers and hands it to you. You held it by your fingertips gingerly as you admired the work that was put into it.

    “Wow, I don’t know what to say the brush strokes are-

    “Nicely done?” He suggested looking into your eyes.

    “Perfect.” You felt your heart skip a beat as you were inches apart from each other.

    “I’m sorry.” Stepping back a bit he caught your attention again.

    “It’s fine, also I think the mask suits you, why don’t you try it on? You can look at the mirror here to see what it looks like.”  Uta offered to point to the small mirror placed on the counter.

    “Oh okay, I guess I could.” You say before putting it on as you looked into the mirror.

    Wow, it's really nice but...I can't afford it. It looks really expensive. 

    As you took it off you looked up to meet eyes with him, “It’s really nice. But I can't afford it.” Your warm smile seemed to make him smile as well.

    “There’s no charge, keep it. It’s yours, I liked the way it looked on you so I think you should keep it.” Uta stated, hoping you'd keep it.

    “Oh thanks, Uta but you've already done so much, I should pay you back somehow.” You couldn't take advantage of him, he already treated your wound which you knew he didn't have too.

    “I'd like for you to have it, but if you feel like you're taking advantage you aren't.” Uta smiled, placing the mask back in your hands.

    “Ok, but are you sure I can't do anything for you in return?” You tilt your head to the side grabbing his attention as you waited for him to say something.

    “Hmm, well now that you mention it. Would you be up for modeling for me?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he said this.

    “Modeling?” Your voice is thin and confused. 

    What did he mean by modeling? Was he teasing you, you didn't know him that well yet he was already teasing you? You looked at him waiting for him to explain as you didn't want to accuse him of being a perv. even tho he is one.

    “Yes modeling, I was wondering if you'd be willing to model for me for this painting I am making. I don't know who I want to paint but after meeting you I think you'd be the perfect person to paint. You don't have to pose in a specific way or wear anything in particular, just come by next week at 1:00 and I will start painting the portrait.”

    “Oh well I wouldn’t mind, but are sure I’d be a good choice to paint?” You questioned.

    You were flattered, truly. But you felt a little uncertain of the idea. You could never imagine someone painting you, not unless you were like a supermodel. Though in this case, you weren’t you were just a regular girl who liked art.

    “I don’t see why you wouldn’t be, you look very cute.”

    Cute? Uta thinks I look cute. But I’m not cute at all. I'm not a little girl. Do I not have enough sex appeal to be seen as a woman? Gosh what’s wrong with me, why does that even matter?!

    “Y/N, are you alright your cheeks are pink?” Uta titled his head to the side in concern to look at you.

    You felt a little nervous, “Yes-yes I’m fine. And um yeah I can model for you if that’s what you want-Ah sorry that sounded weird I mean that I-mm.” 

    Your lips rambling on as you tried explaining but Uta had shut you up. His lips crashing onto yours whilst his hands cupped your cheeks, you gasped in surprise at the contact which gave him access only to surprise you even more. He smirked into the kiss as you blushed, the intimate contact with the tattooed stranger made your legs feel like jello. Soon, you both parted as you felt a little exhausted, a string of salvia detached from both of your lips.

    “W-why d-did you-” 

    Uta kneeled down to your eye level whilst he patted your head, ”Sorry, I have a habit of kissing cute girls when they get embarrassed.”

    You had to regain your composure as you felt exposed,“Uh, no-no it’s fine. I get it.” You justify waving your hand in front of you like it wasn’t a big deal.

    “Really, so you understand?” He inquired as he seemed somewhat amused by your response. Was he teasing you again?

    You were unsure of what to say, “Yes, um no-no not really. I don’t know what to say, sorry.”

    He turned his back to you, searching for something in one of the lower cabinets, “It’s fine, but if you liked the kiss I will take you out on a date after you come by next week?” A smile grew on your lips seeing he took an interest in you and he wasn’t just teasing.

    Thinking for a moment you answered, “Sure, I’m not busy after.” A small blush appeared on your cheeks at the thought of going on a date with someone who you thought was attractive.

    Uta held out a small box to you gesturing you to take it, “Sounds great. This is for the mask your taking home, the box will keep it safe.”

    A smile grew on your face, “Oh thank you. Well, I guess I should get going.” You said while making sure you were ready to leave.

    “Your welcome, I will see you very soon Y/n.” He stated while waving as you were soon heading toward the door. 

    But of course, something kept bothering you and you knew you had to do it. You turned on your heel in the opposite direction of heading outside and went up to Uta instead. Stepping on your tippy-toes you gave him a light peck on the cheek before saying goodbye whilst you left him on the edge of his seat. And it was from there on out where you not only had a ghoul best friend but a boyfriend as well. You never regretted the day you entered his mask shop because you knew it was the best thing you ever did. Especially since you knew he liked you enough to kiss you, the first time meeting you. From then on you liked the more run-down part of town because you found a reason to.

[g0atmama]

Please gimme answers to all the recent selfship asks for the cactus and his blossom, i need more content of my otp--

Aaaaaaa fren elli i’m sorry this one took so long :((

How does your F/O respond to seeing you hurt or upset? Do they act caring or immediately go into “who do I have to beat up?” mode, or both?

If I’m hurt, he’s usually resorting to caring if the danger has clearly already passed. He’ll pick me up to bring me to a mender to take care of my injuries while begging me to tell him what happened. If someone hurt me, he asks if they’re still out there so he can go take care of it for me. If I’m upset, he gets angry. He gets aggressive about my emotions but will back down if I make it clear I need comfort.

Does your F/O let you have independence and wait for you to come to them when something is wrong, or are they always checking in while concerned for your wellbeing?

It depends. Usually, he lets me come to him, but if it’s after I’ve had a breakdown and fallen into the depths again, he checks on me. He doesn’t want me to be upset and not have him there if I need him in those times, because he knows I won’t reach out.

Is your F/O ever willing to put themselves in harm’s way for you? If so, describe what you predict or imagine, or a time when they have before.

Absolutely, constantly. With the Nightmare Court and all the dangers that exist, he’s almost always putting himself in danger. He tries to keep himself as safe as he can while doing it, but given how the Court is… sometimes that is far easier said than done.

(Already answered)

Do you and your F/O sleep together at night? Is there a specific sleeping arrangement? Who hogs the blankets and pillows?

We sleep together as often as we can, and we’re both pretty massive cuddlers, so we’re usually clinging to each other. If it’s really hot at night (like it has been recently), he more presses to the wall and lets me rest against his chest… or he straight up lets me sleep on top of him. I end up covered in the blankets not because I steal them, but because he ends up pushing them off in his sleep to let his leaves breathe.

Has there ever been a REALLY big argument between you and your F/O? What was it about? How did you two resolve it?

With how I am with arguments… no. It’s really not an argument if one party backs down the second a voice is raised and starts apologizing for making the other angry. He was warned about me doing that beforehand, though, so he knows to try not to do it.

(Already answered)

How do you think your F/O would propose to you? If they already have, describe how it went!

Hmm… It’d be a 50/50 shot of spur of the moment or something he planned out for months ahead. If he planned it, he’d probably want to make sure I had a really nice day away from my family, and he’d hold me against his chest while watching the stars when he does.

Name your biggest fear. Now name your F/O’s. Are they similar in any way? Do they come from similar origins or events in your lives? How do you help each other manage your fears?

My biggest? Oh… Judgment is the best way to say it, I guess. His is probably… not actually being able to change from the Canach that fucked up Southsun. He keeps an eye out for me and comes up with excuses if I need to leave a situation for being overwhelmed, and I soothe him when the fears act up… Reminding him of just how much better and wonderful he is.

(Already answered)

Does your F/O have any creative hobbies? If so, what are they? If you have similar hobbies, do you and your F/O encourage each other or work together at all?

Does blowing things up or creating explosives count? He’d like it to. He’s very creative with his bombs. He’s been trying to get into some other things, but he hasn’t found any instruments or visual things that he enjoys as much as explosives.

What’s your favorite way to be touched by your F/O? Were either of you touch starved before your relationship developed?

We absolutely were. For different reasons, neither of us had ever really had a real relationship before each other… And we adore cuddles and smooches. He loves holding me in his lap while kissing me.

What’s you and your F/O’s morning routine? What about the bedtime routine?

What’s routine? We have no routines for anything ever.

Have you and your F/O ever pranked each other? If so, what was your funniest prank? Did a prank war happen?

Our pranks are completely at random, and usually very lighthearted. I can’t say what the funniest is, because it’s more of us startling or lightly scaring each other.

Do you know your F/O’s likes and dislikes? Do they match up with any of yours?

We both hate Anise. And we both love night time and the moon, it’s so nice. There are others that we both enjoy or not, but, well… Hard to think of them all.

[movedaccounts-readinfo]

10, 11, and 12?

OKay so I’m gonna do this for all the ones I reblogged as I don’t want to not answer what you asked.

I’m sorry if I misunderstood this, I kept rewriting this and decided this was the best one to settle on.

This is long so it’s below the cut, easier for those just scrolling though

Romantic F/O: Castiel

10: Have you met your s/o’s family? (If so, how did they react to meeting you, and how do they feel about you now?) Have you met theirs? (Likewise, if so, how did they react to meeting them and how do they feel about them now?) 

Since Max is a Winchester, I’ve met their family already. I like the brothers and Mary is very nice.

11. What do you want out of the future with your s/o? Do you want marriage, a family, a houseful of dogs? Or do you not think that far ahead and prefer to focus entirely on the here and now? Do you know if they have any thoughts like this?

I do wish to have a full life with Max and be a normal couple. I know he would like to get married as he’s mentioned it but I don’t understand human marriage.

12. What is your preferred method of flirting? Are you physical, do you use cheesy but harmless pick-up lines, or are you heavy-handed in your approach? How do they react to being flirted with? If you don’t flirt with them, how else do you (or did you) show them you were interested in them?

Flirting is, quote, “Something that I should never do as it’s an affront to nature.” So I don’t do that stuff.

Falling in love: Max/Castiel, Max answering

10. How long did it take for you to fall in love with your f/o? Did it happen fast, or did it take a lot of time? Vice versa? Were you dating already when you officially fell in love with them, or were you not dating yet at the time?

I fell in love with him before we started dating and it took a couple months. It wasn’t until he saved me during a hunt that I truly fell in love.

11. How would you describe the feeling of being in love. How would your f/o describe the feeling? Or are either of you unable to explain it?

I would say it’s like you’re floating while never being able to take your eyes off of what this love is coming from.

12. Do you see yourself having a future with your f/o? Do they see themselves having a future with you?

I want to marry Cas and have kids and just a normal life. Move on from hunting. Though I can’t tell him my whole dream yet as he cares too much about hunting.

this or that self ship asks: Max/Castiel, Max answering

10. constantly saying “i love you” or only say “i love you” during really serious/romantic moments?

I love when Cas just says he loves me as it’s a reminder in my mind that it’s real and true.

11. calling each other by their names, plain and simple, or calling each other really flowery pet names?

I like to call Cas my angel or honeybee. He just calls me Max or Gecko.

12. constantly hanging off of each other or keeping a tame distance in public?

When working cases we keep our distance but if it’s for fun then I will be just dragging him to different places

[thesecondcircleofkel]

SFW Alphabet, All Might: A-Z

Reposting all of these together for convenience and to save space. I don’t accept requests to do the entire alphabet for someone all at once. You have to stick to the guidelines of 1 character per ask, and 5 letters per ask, and once I finish the alphabet for a character with requests like that, I will repost it all together. Request are closed at the moment, though.  

A: Affection (How affectionate are they with a s/o?)

He’ll be pretty reserved with his affections at first, but he has his reasons for that. Given his status as a hero and the enemies that he made during his career, he was always weary about getting into a long-term relationship out of concern for his possible partner’s safety, and those fears will still linger even after he has given in and welcomed a romantic partner into his life. Just give him some time, though, and he’ll eventually get comfortable enough to open up to you, and once those floodgates open, the affection will constantly rain down on you. All Might is a very dedicated and affection partner, so the wait is well worth it.

B: Breath (What can their s/o do to take their breath away?)

By showing kindness. Honestly, just be kind to a total stranger and go out of your way to help them. It doesn’t have to be in a heroic way, either. He loves seeing people do things like that when they know there won’t be any reward afterwards, and that’s only amplified when it’s someone he loves. And also, just do small, mindful things for him. Pack his lunch for him so he doesn’t have to worry about it in the morning, leave little love notes around your home for him-small things like that that show him you care about him every day. Stuff like that gets him every time.  

C: Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

You have to be careful of his injured side, but beyond that, he is a cuddle master. He loves having the warmth of your body near him, and he will pretty much huff your scent like it’s a drug when he cuddles with you. He prefers to cuddle in your bed, just because it’s easier to get comfortable there, and he lives for spooning, whether he’s the big spoon or the little spoon.

D: Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)  

His dream/goal is to see you smile every day. Your happiness means everything to him, and he takes every frown that crosses your face as a personal failure on his part. He will go out of his way to correct those failures, as well, and he truly lives by the idea that if you’re not happy, then he’s not happy.

E: Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

His middle name is practically ‘effort’. He prioritizes your happiness over most other things, and he will go to any length to ensure that you are happy in your relationship with him. It may have taken him a while to get into a serious relationship, but once he fell in love with you, he didn’t mess around when it came to how dedicated he was to you and to strengthening the bond between the two of you.

F: Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

It’s a lot harder for him to physically protect you since his retirement, so he’ll just take you away from any immediate danger that might be scaring you if he can. If it’s not something physical that you’re afraid of, he’ll talk things out with you, letting you vent about your fears and trying to figure out how you can conquer them in the process.

G: Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

He only does big gifts on special occasions, namely on your birthday and anniversary with him, but beyond that, he’ll send you something simple every once in a while, like flowers. He doesn’t really care for big gifts in return, but he does like small little reminders of your love on a more consistent basis, something akin to little love notes that he can find throughout the day while he’s apart from you.

H: Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Toshinori loves hugs. When he could go into his muscle form, one of his favorite things in the world to do was popping up out of nowhere to wrap you in a big, muscly bear hug. He can’t quite do that anymore, but he still hugs you often, several times a day, and they’re not just quick hugs, either. He likes to hold you for moment and really absorb your presence before he lets you go.

I: Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Beyond his initial fears for your safety, he doesn’t have any problems with intimacy. Once he realizes that he has fallen in love with you, he doesn’t hold back when it comes romance, and while all of his romantic gestures will be in private, there still won’t be any room for you to question how he feels about you.

J: Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

He trusts you, so he doesn’t really get jealous. If he’s uncomfortable with the way someone is acting around you and vice versa, he’ll let you know and he’ll be very calm about it. He wants you to do the same thing if you ever get an inkling of jealousy.

K: Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?) 

He always gives you the sweetest, most love-filled kisses that you could possibly imagine. He prefers to give you a single kiss at a time, and while it won’t be the longest kiss in the world, it’ll still leave you breathless because of how much passion he puts behind it. He goes for at least two kisses a day, one in the morning  and one before you go to bed at night, but beyond that he’s down to kiss you whenever you want him to. 

L: Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say it or show it?) 

It’ll take a while for him to say it. He was already so reluctant to get into a relationship with you out of concern for your safety, and he wants to be doubly sure that his feelings are genuine before he takes such a big step in the relationship. And even when he does confirm his feelings for you, he’ll still work to prove his love to you through his actions before he even thinks to say anything about it. In that same vein, he definitely prefers to show his love for you, but he’ll still tell you that he loves you at least once a day. 

M: Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so what kind of ceremony?)

That’s a tough one. In his younger years, I don’t think he really considered it as an option. After everything that happened with his mentor, I think he was afraid to lose someone else to a villain, especially to All for One, and his spouse would have been a prime target for the enemies that he made during his career. After his retirement, though, you’d be able to convince him to put more thought into it. He’d still be afraid for your safety, but now that he knows that his main enemy is behind bars and that he’s got some safety from the League since he’s at U.A., he’d be willing to give it a try. It will have to be a very private affair, though. Most people will not know or realize that the two of you are married, and he’d like to keep it that way just to ensure your safety.

N: Night Out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?) 

Any date with him will have to be in a private setting, whether that’s at your home or at a really remote location that no one else tends to go to. At-home dates are his favorite, though, since you can both focus solely on each other and be completely open with one another without the worry of someone else interfering with your date. As for how often these dates occur, it really just depends on how your schedules line up. Even in retirement, he’s still a pretty busy guy, so if you have a busy schedule, as well, then dates may be a little hard to come by. 

O: Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do for/with their s/o?) 

It’s probably really obvious by this point, but he won’t want to be seen around you while he’s in his Muscle Form (in a pre-retirement scenario, at least). He doesn’t want to give villains any indication that there’s someone special in his life; he doesn’t want to put you in danger like that, and he’ll be even more weary of this post-retirement since he won’t be able to protect you like he used to be able to. 

P: Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

He tries to be playful with you, but the tables get turned on him a lot because he’s so easily flustered. He usually tries to hit on you with cheesy pick-up lines, but they’re always so tame that you can easily come up with a better one to take him off guard with. It’s still playful, but it didn’t exactly go as he had planned. So long as you laugh, though, he’s fine with it. 

Q: Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

There are certain things that he won’t share with you for the sake of your safety (the history of One for All and all that jazz), but beyond that, he’s open with you about everything, including his opinions. He wants you to be that open with him as well, and he makes an effort to always ask for your opinion on things, no matter how small the matter might be.

R: Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

It’s a mix of both with All Might. He’s really busy most of the time with all of the running around that he does, so sometimes it’s helpful to plan ahead and schedule time to spend with you so he has a reminder to not get too caught up with work. In that same vein, because of how busy he is, if any opportunity pops up for him to spend time with you, he’ll take it, regardless if it was in his schedule or not.

S: Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

He has to be a little careful because of his injured side, but he likes to sleep as close to you as he can. He is all for cuddling, and he’d love it if you curled up on his good side and used him as a pillow while he wrapped an arm around you. He gets pretty cold for obvious reasons, so having your body heat close by him really helps him to warm up and fall asleep quickly.

T: Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

Trusts you with his life. It took him a long time to finally settle down into a relationship, so he puts a lot of value into the love that you have for each other. Love and trust go hand-in-hand for Toshinori, so he hopes that you trust him as much as he trusts you.

U: Unique (What makes them unique as a s/o?)  

How selfless he is. He’d literally do anything to make you happy, and your needs are definitely a higher priority to him than his own are, which isn’t necessarily a good thing, but as soon as you say you’re worried about him for some reason, he’ll immediately see to whatever it is that’s upsetting you, no matter what it is.

V: Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

It will take a while for All Might to get to this point with his s/o. He trusts you with his life, but he kept a smile on his face for the entirety of his hero career. That smile held a lot of secret pain and loss behind it, but he never made any of it known, intent on maintaining his heroic image. He’s used to hiding his fear and pain, and old habits die hard. He doesn’t want to burden you with his vulnerability, and he’s afraid he’ll disappoint you by showing you too many of his weaknesses. With a lot of reassurance from you, however, he’ll eventually get to the point that he can be vulnerable around you, and you’ll know immediately when he’s in this state because it will just be the two of you alone together, and he won’t be smiling anymore.

W: Wild Card (Random domestic headcanon)

He always has to tell you that he loves you before he leaves in the morning. Even if you don’t have to get up at the same time as him, he’ll still wake you up with a gentle kiss to the forehead so he can tell you. He feels bad about waking you up, but he knows that there’s always a chance that he might not make it back to you, and if the unthinkable does happen, he wants his last words to you to be about his love for you. He’ll do this without fail every morning, whether he’s still working as a hero or he’s strictly working as a teacher post-retirement. And if the two of you weren’t able to spend the night together for some reason, then he’ll call you before he heads out for the day.

X: X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Stays by your side every step of the way through the immediate aftermath and your long-term recovery. He will most certainly feel guilty over your injury, always contemplating how things would have been different if he still had his Quirk and he’d been able to protect you. He will have these thoughts even if you’re fine in the end with no lasting effects from your injury.

Y: Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

He’s a hard person to annoy with how patient and understanding he is. You’d legitimately have to be doing something illegal for him to be bothered, and even then, he’d be completely calm and collected as he talked to you about your actions. He doesn’t really have any small habits that would annoy you, but you could probably be bothered by what little regard he has for himself. He’s always so focused on being a hero and looking out for others that he hardly pays much attention to his own needs, so you’ll have to step in and look out for him in that regard.

Z: Zeal (Are they passionate as a s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

As you can tell by his ‘Unique’ section, All Might is a very passionate significant other. Your happiness is everything to him, and he will do anything to make sure that the smile never leaves your face. He’s honestly not very concerned about having that passion reciprocated, either; so long as you’re happy, he’s happy. You should definitely show him that same passion, though, because he deserves it, the angel that he is.

[advernia]

push me off a bridge (to catch me as i fall)

a separate post for my ramblings for this fic!! it’s actually the longest thing i’ve written in a while, so i have a lot to ramble about haha;;

prelude

oh man... this started when two of my friends decided to go through edgar’s route at the same time AND also decided to go reacting to every single part of the route through burst texting AT THE SAME TIME, effectively flooding my inbox.... they were fully aware that i was at a seminar and unable to reply... now my inbox is filled with so much edgar screaming i cannot... (゜▽゜;)

screaming aside they were also very willing to read whatever drafts of edgar/mc i had available and this was their favorite!! thanks to them, i decided to finish this omfg... i’m actually so proud that i got this done but tbh it was getting so long that i had half a mind to let go of it already halfway through scene three haha... (;*△*;)

this has uh... some fighting scenes and tbh the first draft had absolutely none of it... this is my first time actually writing long(?) scenes and while i found thinking about them to be fun, putting them into words was some struggle??? like... i've been told that it looks okay but idk it feels clunky to me. oh well ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

general stuff + war phase, baby!

initially this was only meant to be 3 parts + primarily focused on edgar/mc + with an unnamed mc as usual! but then since it’s an au of kyle’s route, i found myself wanting to flesh out the relationship of edgar & mc when set in a different angle + circumstances rather than just automatically implying attraction...

plus their relationship canonically starts off on the wrong foot in that route & edgar’s fully aware that mc isn’t exactly comfortable around him, so it really doesn’t sit well if i just... put them together, lol. so thus we have five scenes of them getting(?) closer!(???)

in short its a hella slow burn and not gonna lie, when i was writing their scenes i was like f i n a l l y... bless... ಠ ּ͜೦

one of the reasons i like kyle’s route is bc i actually got some feel of an actual war??? idk i think there’s so much plot that u can fill in with it, so i decided going for alternating scenes of the battlefield + med tent. while there's glimpses of the action going on, there’s also the sort of complimenting(???) or offsetting more emotional perspective of what goes on with the medics. 

tbh i stared long and hard at the cradle map when formulating some tactics and i gotta say i had a hard time calming myself down bc... 

in kyle’s route, the red army has the advantage and have pushed the black army as far back as to their bridge, which means that more or less they’ve occupied central quarter... but what dawned on me was... where the hell did the red army position their encampment from there??? 

was an encampment even necessary given that they’re like, in a really convenient area????? they probably could’ve settled themselves in some houses but tbh okay maybe it isn’t so noble of the reds to do (imposing themselves n’ stuff) + they have larger numbers so accommodating all of them is a problem but still... where’d they set up camp??? u see, when kyle + mc step out of the med tent it shows the forest bg, so... where??? on the edges of the central quarter area are where u can see them trees??? on the civic center roof?!?!

well... a decent answer is that they could’ve set up several encampments around the area to ensure their hold on the central quarter... it still raises some questions but honestly it makes a lot more sense... but if not and they really decided to camp out like one big happy family all together, then don’t even get me started on the possibility that the camp was stationed somewhere around here:

because doing that doesn’t have a single lick of sense omfg especially tactics-wise haha... that’s like... why would you do that... you’re wasting all your advantages... o h  b o y... so you bet when i remembered that mc + loki had to pass by a forest to get back to the encampment + encountered ray & some disciples i was like... u m m... why???? if technically the reds took hold of the whole central quarter area then it actually isn’t necessary to skulk around in the forest?????? yes yes i know safety precautions + avoiding detection but... dood... it’s safer to walk in claimed territory rather than the unstable one ahaha...

plus the thing about the black bridge... uh... it's just said in the route that lancelot handles it through magic and that's all. but when i thought back on it oh my god... what did he do??????? how is he still standing??? how much of his lifespan did he shave off just to salvage that situation??????????? how is the poor boi alive?????????? the whole fucking bridge literally falls apart and that's a whole lot of chaos and people and AHHHHH!?!?!¿¿¿¿ if ur gonna make the bridge collapse (good thing they didn't think of disintegrate) it probably cost the magic tower a hefty amount but get rekt lancelot still saves the fucking day, what a king - he's practically got one foot in the grave already... this dood, seriously ಥ_ಥ

there were other things i noticed in the process of writing this based on the route events but i was like fuck it, let’s think on that another day and leave it as it is (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻ ily kyle but oh no my brain started reprocessing the other details of ur route

thinking about all that also made me think of other more stuff, like cradle economy + livelihood haha;; it’s stated in edgar’s route (well... it’s actually pretty obvious in other routes too) that the reds are richer than the blacks, so i went ahead and assumed that the former engages in something more lucrative like mining -> jewerly / raw material / mineral trade, while for the latter something more wholesome like agriculture. idk, it works. even moreso that the reds give off the whole nobility vibe while the blacks are simple and casual. even the bg screens of the red & black streets are polarizing.

then i also went over the rest of the chosen thirteen... while the reds show no obvious weapon variety (see: swords), i’d like to believe that they’re taught to be versatile enough no matter what the situation. plus, since they have the funding, i'd like to think they're skilled in magic manipulation, too. meanwhile the black army shows weapon variety, and i’d like to think that it’s because most of their recruits aren’t soldiers in the first place: they’re farmhands / hunters / village people turned soldiers, and it’s actually easier to let them go with what they know first before encouraging them or asking them to learn something new. thus axes and spears and possible unconventional stuff like caltrops.

crimson glory

one of the things i realized was in kyle’s route, mc isn’t exactly so buddy-buddy with the red crew in comparison to other routes. she gets minimal interactions with the four, and zero aside her relationships with the top three are rather... tense.

zero was the other red officer i was initially going to add aside from edgar & kyle, but i added all of them anyway. while they don't appear all together, all of them have scenes together with edgar.

the first edgar & jonah scene shows an obvious contrast - while he's being incredibly critical about it, jonah shows actual concern for the living situations in black army territory. on the other hand, edgar chooses to tease him about it, his joking more or less implying that he isn't that concerned / bothered about it at all. the game touches up on this sometimes, often with edgar commenting on how noble jonah is while jonah shows obvious distaste for edgar's callousness.

still, they work well together. personally i'm amused with a hc of mine that looking at how edgar fights / acts only spurs jonah to act more honorably while for edgar, being exposed to jonah's noble-ness more or less makes him curious to try being honorable from time to time lol. that still doesn't stop anyone from calling him the gentle demon tho ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

tbh since edgar is obviously sneaky on other routes i wouldn't put it past him to casually pressure lancelot to tell him wtf's going on with this war when he gets the inkling that something's wrong. edgar goes about this subtly not-so-subtly and in the most polite manner possible. lancelot knows him far too well to take bait tho - he makes sure to speak carefully since he's probably knows that edgar's going to pick apart at his words for meanings + implications, so it more or less leaves edgar a bit frustrated since it's clear that lancelot won't tell him much. still, edgar knows when not to cross the line - even he's not so keen on getting on lancelot's bad side.

that aside, i'd like to think that edgar respects lancelot a lot as a person + commander enough that he'd truly risk his life for him on instinct like a true soldier would. while i think i could've done more on writing the gravity of the collapsing bridge scene, i liked the last bit where edgar + zero immediately worried for lancelot.

let's be honest here tho in some way or another all of the reds chosen worry about their king bc bruh... let us in bruh...

the scenes of zero & edgar in the end are also my favorite! it isn’t much, but enjoyed writing their relationship briefly. tbh i think edgar is one of those people under the sleep = most vulnerable = death thinking (no thanks to claudius), so the fact that he allows himself to drift to sleep twice in zero's company is a definite sign of trust. then again, he's injured but still ( ᐛ )و

edgar, idike, kyle

y’know even if this is an edgar/mc thing, i found fleshing out the kyle/mc relationship equally important which i presented in scene three. personally speaking, i’d like to think that if ever kyle didn’t fall in love with mc (on his own route???) he’d still be watching over her anyway since her struggle in the medical field + war reminds him a bit of his younger self after his brother's death.

which is why he doesn't intervene with that one soldier scene - he doesn't coddle her either when she goes into a brief shock. perhaps it's bc he knows so well what she's going through, he decides to let her handle it on her own. this was her experience, not his. and to be fair, she asked to go to the front lines determined but wholly unprepared emotionally. he tried warning her, she wouldn’t listen. now she faces the consequences - how would she go about it?

i decided to slap a name into mc this time to highlight the trust plot: idk if i got it clearly across in the fic, but in times of war + for someone who’s been trained to be suspicious / cautious of everyone like edgar; secrets are a surefire way to catch attention + breed distrust.

tbh he's hella aware that the secret around her name is most likely personal and nothing dangerous, but it's better safe than sorry - by making sure she understands that keeping secrets wouldn't be of any good to her + situation, he gets reassurance that she really is harmless. how bad + seriously she takes it honestly surprises him tho, but then again she's been going through other stuff too so it all piled up.

idike isn’t my in-game name, but it’s the given name i spoke of in this ask, haha! initially scene five has her saying her full name (with surname), but i thought it would be more fitting if i didn’t lol ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

i tried to incorporate a mix of the personalities of edgar’s!mc + kyle’s!mc onto idike, tho at first i was only shooting for the latter - i think it kinda works??? while somewhat composed and determined (kyle’s), she still shows some naivete in her (edgar’s), especially concerning the ways of war + how secrecy & trust work in times of war.

i found emphasizing on her emotional struggle important, since it should be a big blow for her who’s never known the terror of war. the game touches upon on it a bit (tho it's post-med tent scenes) and i wanted to expand on it further since there are so many possible angles to go about it.

the i can’t heal you if you’re dead line sounds like something like shiro emiya might say but lol no i just remembered this p3 manga panel (pg 24) - its been years since i read it and i still love that line and i integrated it here... i was trying to expand that one scene for a while but then i just left it as it is.

in the catharsis scene where idike airs out everything, the fact that edgar fails to empathize with her + focuses more on her emotional state rather than offering actual help (advice maybe, but i honestly doubt he’d do that) reflects that he's still looking at her as an interesting creature and not her as a person. part 5 hints that this may be slowly changing, seeing as he called for her all of a sudden.

... idike probably keeps edgar’s glove as a token of friendship or smth haha ooPSSS i forgot to bring that back ahahaha..... ヘ（。□°）ヘ

ooofff i guess that’s all i have??? a big thank you to whoever read both hot messes™ and by that the fic + commentary itself!!! do feel free to hit the inbox for any comments + questions + more brainstorming + general screaming haha! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

[riyuu-bsd]

Good Enough [Yandere!Edgar Allen Poe x Reader]

"(Y/n)-Chan!" the male smiled, approaching his close friend,

"Edgar!" the lady grinned, running up to him and hugging him tightly. He wheezed slightly, before returning the notion. His face was tinted slightly pink, a feature the (h/c)ette causing his flustered state didn't fail to point out.

"You're so cute when you blush!" she grinned bluntly, only deepening the inflamation of his face,

"(Y-Y/n)-Chan.. I-I-"

He was cut off when she changed her focus to the raccoon perched on his shoulder.

"Karl!" she beamed, picking up the small, somewhat fluffy creature and petting him softly. The jittery owner stood awkwardly, a nervous smile plastered onto his features.

"Have you been taking care of him properly?" she smiled, "Ah, who am I kidding? Of course you have, you're awesome with this little guy!"

"I-I uh.." he stammered, face still flushed and burning in embarrassment. The girl gave a supportive smile, placing his pet back on his shoulder.

"Don't be afraid to take a compliment, Edgar," she cooed, "Hey, here's another; You're my best friend, ever, and nothing can change that because you're too precious and amazing to ever be replaced!" He felt his face seer in heat, heart sinking at the term "friend" for a reason he couldn't describe.

"Y-y-you're way better than I am, (Y-y/n)-Chan.." he whispered nervously, twiddling his fingers as the girl chuckled, turning around,

"So, Edgar," she hummed, "Where we heading?"

"O-oh, t-to my place.." he answered. The girl felt a slight heat rise in her face, shaking off any thoughts of her closest friend being sleazy because of his sheer innocene.

"Okay, let's go!" she chimed, holding his far colder hand in hers and rushing ahead.

"(Y/n)-Chan! We're getting a cab-!"

.

Stepping into the somewhat overly large doors, she grinned and gripped onto the side of her best friend.

"Woah! This place is awesome!" she beamed, "No wonder, an awesome guy like you deserves a place like this,"

"(Y-Y-Y/n)-Chan-" he stammered, "I-it's no big deal.."

"You're so cool that even a place like this isn't a big deal," she grinned, a slight smirk tugging at her lips for a moment.

"Wh-" his face was bright red, a feature that only increased when he felt her lips press against his cheek.

"Great job, Edgar," she beamed, hugging him tightly around the waist. The tall, reclusive author couldn't process what was happening properly.

His best friend had kissed him, and was now hugging him as if her life depended on it.

She was showing him affection. Butterflies ran rampant in his stomach, his arms wrapping weakly around her as he whispered a small "thanks".

"I told you you're cute when you blush," she giggled, unlatching her arms from around his waist and grabbing his hand,

"So, can you show me around?"

They had held hands before, but both times today it felt so.. Intimate.. So different. Maybe it was the distance that had been between them for a while, or maybe their friendship was just growing more awkward, but everything she did set his heart ablaze with passion for her.

"Sure.." he managed, shuffling up the stairs to show her to her room.

.

"Edgar!" she gasped, looking at her room, "You set it all up and devorated it with things I like,"

"O-of course.." he whispered, "You're m-my best friend after all, I wanted to make sure y-you'd be comfortable," he stammered, feeling her hand pull away from his as she flopped onto (f/c) sheets he had picked out for her. He looked over at her, noticing that she was patting the space next to her,

"Come lie down with me, Edgar," she smiled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over.

"(Y-Y/n)-Chan-!" he protested, "Th-that's a bit c-close don't you think?"

She stayed silent for a moment, the same warm smile tugging at her lips.

"Aww, Edgar, don't worry, I know you aren't like that," she giggled, sitting up so he'd feel more comfortable, "I just wanna catch up and talk,"

"O-okay.."

.

.

.

At some point, he must have dozed off, his eyes fluttering open in slight light.

"Oh, Edgar!" (Y/n) grinned, looking down at him.

Wait, looking down?

He reassessed the situation, quickly realising that he was laying down on her lap.

"I-I'm so sorry!" he apologised, "It was an accident, I promise, I never would've done that on purpose..!" he continued frantically, sitting up straight with a heavy blush on his face.

"It's okay, Edgar," she chuckled, leaning on his shoulder. His blush deepened, body going stiff from the intimacy.

"(Y-Y/n).." he whispered, inaudible to her even as she was so close to him. She simply made herself comfortable, eventually settling to lie down in his lap instead.

"C-can I introduce you to someone tomorrow?"

"Sure, Edgar, who is it?" she smiled, lifting her head from the admittedly comfortable position and looking at him.

"Ranpo," he answered, confident the two would get along. She gave him a bright grin and a nod,

"Sure!" she beamed, "But you better start sleeping more," she warned,

"What do you mea-"

"Edgar, I've known you for sixteen years, I know you dont sleep much and when that happens, you'll pass out," she fussed, "Please just sleep properly.."

"O-okay."

.

He finally returned to his own room, changing into some nightwear and lying down, running his hand through Karl's fur to try and quell his nerves. He was so close to her, so many times. But why did it matter? Back in America, they were usually close. But it felt different, and it was more intimate to him now. Hugging her, holding her hand, falling asleep on her. It all felt so extreme, although it really wasn't much. He couldn't help but feel elated.

"Karl.. What is this feeling..?" he muttered, looking to the raccoon as if he was supposed to answer. The creature cocked his head to the side, looking back at the author.

"What was I expecting.." he let out a dry chuckle, tucking himself in properly, "It's not like you'd answer.."

"Goodnight Edgar! Sweet dreams!" his friend called from the other room, startling him somewhat,

"G-goodnight, (Y/n)-Chan..! Sweet dreams!" he called back,

"I'd have to dream of you!" she chuckled jokingly, causing the shy male to begin burrying his face in the fluffy pillows to try and stop himself from blushing.

Why did she make him feel that way?

.

.

.

His eyes fluttered open, the feint smell of a freshly cooked breakfast wafting into his room. He groaned tiredly, getting up and going downstairs to see what was up.

"(Y/n)..?" he mumbled groggily, wiping his eye to try and wake himself up properly,

"Aww, Edgar!" she beamed, hugging his side, "Morning~"

"M-m-morning," he stammered, feeling suddenly awake from their intimacy.

"You want pancakes?" she smiled, stepping over towards the table, where she had already made him a breakfast.

It was the one she would always make back home in America, pancakes with syrup and a cup of coffee to help wake him up. He nodded slightly, shuffling over to the table and starting to eat.

"So when are we meeting that friend of yours?" she grinned, sitting down next to him and sipping at a mug of (f/d).

"L-later today?" he suggested,

"Sure thing, Edgar!" she beamed, "I'll go get ready in a sec,"

It was only then that the idea (Y/n) and Ranpo could get along too well.

What if they left him behind?

What if she liked Ranpo more than him?

What if they started to hate him because they had each other?

The idea hurt him somewhat deeply,

"S-surely they wouldn't.."

"Wouldn't what?" she piped up, noticing the small tears in the corners of his eyes,

"I-it's nothing," he stammered, fidgeting nervously.

"Edgar," she began, "I can tell something's bothering you; you're bad at keeping a poker face,"

"I-"

"I think I know what it is, too," she said with a small chuckle, "I'd never leave you, Edgar, don't think I'd ever forget you because of someone else,"

"H-how did you guess that..?" he stuttered,

"I've known you for ages, Edgar, I just know this stuff," she giggled, patting him on the back, "I'll go get ready, you finish up eating,"

"(Y-Y/n).. I really appreciate it but.. Aren't you acting really motherly..?"

"Well duh," she sighed, "Half the reason I came here is to make sure you're keeping yourself healthy, Edgar,"

He nearly choked on what he was eating for a moment, he lady giving him a smile and going back up to the room she was staying in.

She really did care about him.

.

.

"So, what's this Ranpo guy like?" she piped up, clinging to his arm so she wouldn't get lost. Her close friend looked at her, taking in how much effort she put into looking nice. She wore a black pencil skirt, a white blouse with small frills and lace details, as well as a pair of semi-thin tights and some black high heels. All complete with his overcoat after she complained about being too cold.

"Edgar?" she repeated,

"O-oh, sorry," he mumbled, "Well.. He's pretty laid back.. A bit childish.."

The lady giggled,

"Thanks for letting me use your coat by the way, Edgar."

"N-no problem," he hummed, blushing slightly, "I can't have you b-being cold."

.

"Poe-Kun! Did you finish that puzzle?" the childish detective grinned loudly from his desk, "Who's she?"

"A-ah-"

"Edgar, don't yell across an office, you'll only make yourself nervous if they look at you," (Y/n) reminded him softly, still latched onto his arm. She guided him towards the detective's booth, "Now it's easier to talk," she smiled.

"R-Ranpo-Kun..! No, I haven't finished it yet, it should be done later this week," he mumbled, face red from embarrassment, "Th-this is (Y/n), she's my friend from over in America.." he explained,

"I've heard great things about you, Ranpo!" the (h/c)ette beamed, extending her hand for him to shake.

The great detective found a smirk tugging at his lips, "Really? Just how great am I then?" he chuckled, shaking her hand.

Even though it was conpletely platonic and he knew it, Poe couldn't help but feel hurt by their contact. It was brief, but it was similar to the way he had held (Y/n)'s hand. Surely that intimacy was something she saved solely for him, right? His two more outgoing friends continued to talk, him only adding small chuckles or bits of laughter to their stories and jokes. He couldn't help but feel.. Isolated. He reached up to stroke Karl, before realising his beloved pet had hopped onto Ranpo's shoulder instead of his own. His laughter or chuckles stopped.

.

.

"Edgar?" (Y/n) whispered, "Edgar are you okay?"

"I-"

"Please say you're okay.." she whispered, leaning into his chest and wrapping her arms atound him, "I'll help if I can."

His face burned. Having her hold him so intimiately in an area so different to his own home.

"I-it's nothing.."

"..Are you two dating?.." The ravenette detective questioned, somewhat clueless,

"N-No..!" Edgar denied, face burning bright red,

"Noooo," (Y/n) cooed casually, "I just love how much of a softie he is," she chuckled, staying close to the tall male.

.

Other than that, Poe felt generally unacknowledged during the exchange, even though he was the one introducing them.

"Ranpo's a really cool guy!" his close friend piped up, "And he does all that without having an ability? It's awesome!"

Something about that statement made him almost jealous.

He didn't have an ability like that, and he was still competition to Ranpo. He didn't brag about it.

"Yeah, he's awesome," Edgar chuckled, feeling a small chill run down his spine at the cold, even through his many layers without the overcoat.

"Are you too cold, Edgar?" she fussed, picking up on it almost instantly,

"N-No, besides, if I take it, th-then you'll be cold!" he stammered in protest, "I'll be okay.."

"If you say so," she cooed, slipping her warmer hand into his, "But at least keep your hands warm, they're always so cold,"

"I-I-"

She intertwined their fingers, smiling at him,

"Now you're warmer and I can't get lost," she grinned, the male looking away with a blush.

Said male got them a quick ride home, sitting in the back of the cab with (Y/n) rather than the front with the driver like most people would.

He just really wanted to stay close to her.

.

.

"Edgarrrrr," the girl chimed, "Can we go visit Ranpo again tomorrow?"

"I-I'm sure he was lots of work to do," Poe lied, wanting to spend more time with her,

"Can we at least try?" she asked, giving puppy dog eyes as she clinged to his side lightly.

"Sure.."

"Yay!"

He was too soft to her, too soft that he felt he might lose her.

.

.

.

The same thing went on for a few days, (Y/n) and Ranpo getting along great and leaving Poe to sit awkwardly on his own.

He sighed, looking over at the two.

He felt jealousy and anger bubbling, giving him some excuse for confidence as he stood up, determined to confront Ranpo for taking his best friend.

"Ranpo-Kun!" he started, trying his best to sound angry and not scared. The ravenette's head whipped around, eyes open properly as he looked at his angry rival,

"Eh?"

"I- I-"

He hadn't thought of what to say at this point, stammering furiously as he tried to look serious.

The (h/c)ette giggled.

"Aww, Edgar!~ You're so cute when you're mad!~" she chimed, pulling the tall recluse into a hug, "Especially when you try so hard to be so serious, it's absolutley adorable!~"

His anger seemed to dissipate under her touch, her hold calming and comforting,

"I.." he went on, looking down at the floor.

She lead him out of the agency, giving Ranpo a brief goodbye.

.

"So, what do you wanna do, Edgar?" she smiled, slipping her hand into his again, lacing their fingers together,

"M-maybe th-" he cut himself off, hugging her abruptly and burrying his face into her shoulder, "I'm sorry I ruined your day with Ranpo.."

"Edgar, it's okay," she cooed, "I wanna spend time with you now, let's go! You lead the way, I'll go wherever with you!~"

He shivered slightly, looking away and stepping back nervously as he fidgeted with his sleeves.

"Th-the cafe or the library?" he suggested meekly, the girl smiling widely,

"Sounds great," she beamed, already starting to walk.

Even when they were so close, when they were alone together, he felt sick with anxiety. Surely one day couldn't mean she doesn't prefer him to Ranpo? If she really liked him, she wouldn't insist on seeing Ranpo so much. She would spend more time with him. Everythigg she did—every breath she took, every word she spoke—it would be dedicated to him. Just the ssme way he treated her. During the past few days, he'd felt almost hopeless. His best friend was slipping through his grasp over and over and over again.

He wasn't sure if, at this point, she was his best friend. He saw her as more than that. A goddess, perhaps?

He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he was in no way willing to give her up. Especially not to Ranpo.

He was ripped from his thoughts, (Y/n) tugging him into an alleyway quickly.

"Edgar, is something bothering you?" she whispered, shrugging off his overcoat and placing it on his shoulders, "You seem tense.."

"I-I'm fine, (Y/n)," he smiled fakely, trying to lie to her.

She knew him too well, wrapping her arms around him loosely and leaning into him,

"You can always talk to me if something is bothering you, Edgar, I'm here for you whenever," she whispered, burrying her face into his shoulder, "You don't need to hide things from me." He shivered slightly, face red with embarassment.

"I.. I guess there is something.." he breathed, "Or.. Someone.."

"Who is it, Edgar?" his friend cooed,

"Wh-whenever I'm around them, I feel like I'm in bliss.. They make me so happy I can't help it.. I wanna be with them m-more.. I wanna be able to know how I feel about them.." he breathed shakily, "What's it called, (Y/n)? I've forgotten the word.."

"Love," she said, voice holding less emotion, "It's called love, Edgar, you're in love,"

"L-love.." he whispered, wrapping his own arms around her, "I like that word.."

.

The day continued, with a lot less physical contact, though. She didn't reach out to hold his hand, she didn't pull him into hugs, she didn't cling to his arm or insist on sitting as close as she could to him.

What if.. (Y/n) was in love with someone? What if the one (Y/n) was in love with was.. Ranpo?

It would make so much sense.

She was always wanting to be around him, she always smiled with him, she always laughed, always seemed.. Like she was in love. That thought terrified him. His dear (Y/n), in love with someone that wasn't him. He was happy for her, sure, but he couldn't stand the idea.

"Edgar," she started, "Do you mind telling me who it is you love?"

"I.. All I can tell you is that.. I r-really care about them.." he said quietly, staring down at the table, "I can't stand the thought of them loving someone else.."

"That's adorable, Edgar," she said with a small smile, "You sound like you're jealous." She had less emotion to her. Whilst she would normally squeal these compliments to him, she simply stated it, a dull look in (e/c) eyes as she looked at him.

"I-I'm not..!" he protested.

She really did love Ranpo, didn't she? She was bored of him, and wanted to see the person she actually liked, right?

"It's okay to admit it," she said plainly, "Anyway, I'm tired, can we go back home?"

"Sure.."

.

It was quieter at home, no real conversation. Poe had excused himself earlier, going up to his room with a solemn expression.

"Oh, Karl.." he sighed, flopping down onto his bed, "What should I do? He ran his hand through the raccoon's fur.

"Am I really in love? I forgot what it was.. And now I'm falling more than I ever have before," he whispered shakily, "How do you show someone you love them, Karl?" He was almost gripping at his pet's fur, the strong hold causing the creature to bite down on his wrist, blood beginning to drop from the wound.

"Th-that's it.." he gasped, "That must be it!~" he chimed, jumping up.

"You show love by showing pain.." he smirked widely, unnatural for someone with expressions as delicate as his own.

"But I can't hurt (Y/n).." he whispered, "I can hurt someone else though.."

It dawned on him.

"I can hurt Ranpo, then she'll have me to love instead of him."

.

.

.

"Edgarrr~" (Y/n) chimed, hugging him from the side and looking up at him, "Can we go see Edo-Chan again?"

He stiffened at the nickname for a brief second. Edo-Chan.

Why didn't he have a nickname like that? Was Ranpo really so much better than him? Was he so inferior to such a brat that even his best friend left him?

The previous night's idea was still fresh in his head, the tall male choking on his words briefly.

"S-sure.." His face was beet red, that much was noticeable. What went unknown to (Y/n) were the salty tears pooling in his eyes,

"Give me an hour for a nap, first, I-I'm tired.." The lady nodded at his groggy request, detaching herself from his waist.

"Okay, Edgar!"

There was none of the concern for his safety, no nagging about how he needed to sleep and take care of himself.

It made him feel worse as he hurried up the stairs, tears threatening to fall. He sat down on his bed, brushing his long, dark hair away from his face.

"(Y/n).." he whispered, voice shaking, "Why do you have to make me feel this way..?" He looked around for a moment, throat tight from anxiety.

Then an idea dawned on him, an idea he could use almost flawlessly.

"Perfect," he whispered, bangs falling over his eyes once more, "It's perfect.."

.

He sat in near silence for an hour, "waking up" and going to check on (Y/n).

"(Y/n)?" he called, hoping she hadn't left without him,

"Edgar!" she grinned, running towards him.

"Ah, (Y-Y/n)!" he smiled, "Let's go see R-ranpo.." The lady gave him a bright smile, leaning onto his side.

.

The day went by as normal, Poe feeling left behind and isolated as the (Y/n) and Ranpo talked to each other for little less than two hours.

"Don't worry.. Soon enough.." he whispered to himself, "Soon enough she can have me to love.."

.

They left the agency, the (h/c)ette slipping her hand into Poe's once more. It was almost a routine; they'd hold hands and she would be clingy as soon as they left, any other time on their visits she was with Ranpo.

.

Poe smiled slightly, getting up from the (f/c) chair in the corner of the room.

"Am I good enough for you, (Y/n)?" he cooed softly, stepping towards the door, "Of course not; but I really don't want to lose you.. So I'll make myself the best you can ever get.."

He looked back at her sleeping form, knife in hand.

"I will be good enough, (Y/n), I promise I will.. I will be good enough for you.."

.

He looked up at the street lights, hands stuffed in his pockets. It was probably around 2AM, something he knew wouldn't have stopped his rival from staying up playing video games. His eyes rolled back to the door as he knocked gently before entering.

"Ranpo-Kun?" he called up, a heavy book in hand.

"Poe-Kun? You finished the book?" the ravenette grinned, walking downstairs in an animal onesie. What else was he to expect?

"Y-yeah, it's all done," he said with a small smile, "Sorry for bothering you so late.." His rival simply shrugged, opening the book as he began to skim the pages, expecting to feel the familiar tingle of Poe's ability at any moment.

Instead, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, quickly followed by the feeling of blood trickling down.

Had Poe really just done that?

The detective was about to cry out in pain, and only then did the author's ability begin to work.

"You're out of the way now.. I can finally br good enough..!" the writer said, an almost derranged smile on his face, "She can love me now!"

.

.

Days passed, each one feeling like several months. (Y/n) was always clinging to him, seeming gloomy and on the verge of tears.

"Edgar.. Do you know anything about what happened?" she whispered shakily, arms wrapped around him and face burried comfortably in his shoulder.

"I went to drop off the novel and.. He wasn't there.." the author breathed nervously.

"I.. I miss him.. Please stay safe, Edgar, I can't lose you too!" she cried, beginning to sob again, "I already lost a good friend.. I can't lose you.. I won't.."

"Calm down, (Y/n)," he choked, guilt starting to sink in, "He wouldn't want you to cry.."

"I know," she sniffled, whiping her eyes and pulling away to look at him.

"I'm just scared that I might lose you too, Edgar.. I love you too much to think about it.." she whispered, face red with tears.

That's what made him feel the worst. She had loved him. He killed Ranpo for no reason.

He pulled her closer, beginning to sob himself as he cradled her closely.

"I-I.. I love you too, (Y/n).."

In her eyes, he had always been good enough.

[ariannjs]

KARIN | A SasuSaku FanFic (6/10)

(Karin - Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5)

———

Dinners and walks together on the way home became a usual day to day thing for them since then. Eventually, Sakura came to realize that Sasuke was intentionally spending time with her amidst daily tasks to aid the Hokage, for it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the Uchiha wasn’t merely visiting the Hozuki family in the hospital after all.

She couldn’t help but feel so flattered with how he would still pick her up from the hospital even right after coming back from a mission, wounded or not. And it was then that she knew that Sasuke was, in his own subtle ways, trying to work things out between them. If he started feeling the same way towards her, she couldn’t be sure yet; nonetheless, she was absolutely grateful for the tiny steps that their relationship was taking towards rebuilding their bond that Sasuke almost oh-so-completely severed.

Undoubtedly, that fact gave her reasons for her insides to do somersaults and her heart to pound against her ribcage, yet her favorite part was getting to witness Sasuke’s kind and gentle side every time they were together – the side she has always believed to be present even back when they were still genins, no matter how much of an ice block he may look like on the outside. And whenever it resurfaces, her heart couldn’t help but feel in awe.

“I’ll ask Kakashi to allow you to take missions alongside me, then,” Sasuke suggested to Suigetsu during that last day of Karin and Suika in the hospital. Three pairs of eyes – purple, red, and green – looked at him afterwards.

“You’re really doing that?”

“You have a family now. You need to have a source of income all the more. Can you think of other ways to earn while you’re in Konoha?”

The head of the Hozuki Family stared at him in understanding and shook his head. “But won’t they think that I’m an outsider or something?”

“If they can trust me now, then they should trust you too.”

Sakura grinned at that, unable to stop herself from humming happily as she assisted Karin in finally getting off the bed after such a strenuous week.

“You seem so delighted, Sakura.”

“Huh? O-of course! You and Suika are now better enough to be discharged.”

Karin arched an eyebrow at her, a smirk forming on her lips. “I don’t think it’s just that.”

A blush appeared on Sakura’s cheeks as she glanced at Karin and then peeked at the men across the room again. “Fine,” she started in a softer voice. “I’m just glad that Sasuke-kun’s visibly more comfortable around the village now. And he’s been helping you guys and many others. I just…” She grinned. “I couldn’t help but be proud.”

The redhead’s eyes followed Sakura’s line of vision, which was directed to the Uchiha. “You have every reason to be proud of him. He’s come a long way.”

Sighing in content, Sakura beamed at her patient.

There was a clear agreement between the two women who adored Sasuke in their own ways. “Right.”

It wasn’t really a difficult adjustment for Sakura to have someone waiting for her whenever her shift was over; it’s just that this time, she was actually more eager to go home than stay in the hospital for as long as her body could.

Pleased with this progress, Shizune made a mental note to personally thank Sasuke once they get a chance to talk out of the pink-haired medic’s earshot. If Shizune knew it would only take Sasuke’s intervention in making Sakura obey after months of failed attempts in asking her to stop immersing herself too much in her work, she would’ve forced the Sixth Hokage to summon Sasuke much earlier.

But that didn’t mean that Sakura wasn’t tiring herself anymore. Hence, as if it was a self-proclaimed mission, Sasuke had been true to his word when he said that he would monitor if the hardworking medic was eating right.

Whenever he found the opportunity, he would discreetly add food on Sakura’s plate as she animatedly narrated about her day – which consisted of the surgeries she performed, the deliveries that were much easier compared to that of Karin (“Thankfully! Shannaro!”, she emphasized), the kid who didn’t want to take his medicine unless it was her who let him take it (Sasuke didn’t know if he would feel amused or threatened by this), and the flock of male medic and shinobi who endlessly left flowers or letters in front of her office (now, he absurdly had the urge to crush the teacup he was holding while hearing this part). Taking advantage of her focus on her stories, it didn’t even matter to him that he was taking quite a lesser amount of food, as long as Sakura got to eat more.

“Wow. I’m almost so full and I’m not even done yet.” She let out a deep exhale, rubbing her stomach in the process. “How about you, Sasuke-kun?”

“Hn.”

Recently becoming adept in Sasukenese, she already knew what that meant so she continued, “Just as I thought! They give big servings of their meals here, don’t they? I think this has become my favorite!”

Sasuke stifled a chuckle through wiping his mouth with a table napkin. “There’s a new restaurant a few blocks from here. We could try it there next time if you’d like to. I’ve heard they’re serving anmitsu too.”

“You’re kidding.” Her eyes widened. “Okay, I think that’s going to be my favorite place soo—hang on…” She eyed him carefully before taking a bite of another vegetable tempura that was secretly placed on her plate.

Sasuke braced himself at the idea of being caught.

“How did you know that I have a thing for anmitsu?”

Inwardly sighing in relief, Sasuke just simply shrugged in response to her question, not willing to let her know that he had been mentally taking down notes of the things he had learned about her since they were kids.

Meanwhile, he found it cute, to be honest, how she was one of the most intellectual in their batch yet she always failed to notice how her food became half greater than the amount that was first served to her. With that, he didn’t know if he would be glad or concerned that she is a shinobi yet she could completely let her guard down while he was with her. But at the end of the day, he often noticed how much that fact helped him trust himself more just because she trusts him fully without hesitation.

Sakura could go on and talk about everything under the sun, he realized. But he could observe that glint in her eyes whenever she talked about the medical field. On the outside, she might just see him nonchalantly chewing his food in front of her, but on the inside, he couldn’t help but be filled with pride and reverence for his former teammate.

How in the world could he not admire such a passionate woman whose heart is just so big for the people around her?

They were both privileged with immense abilities and strengths, yet he recognized how totally different they were. For in the past few years, he used his power to destroy and kill, but she used hers to heal and bring more life into the world.

He knew he could never be like her, considering all the negative things he had inflicted to others in the past. But as she continues to give her all in healing and taking care of more people, he vowed to himself to be the one taking care of her in the best way he could.

Even if he had to continue stealthily adding food on her plate just so she could properly eat everyday.

After all, it was her who deserves all the tenderness he could give and more.

A scowl with disapproving mismatched eyes met Sakura by the hospital doors one night, puzzling her if she was about to embark on a sudden battle. Because, why in the world would the Sharingan be activated if they were just about to go home, right?

“You’re chakra is almost completely depleted.”

“H-huh?” Ah. So she had just gone through a chakra X-ray courtesy of her former teammate’s visual jutsu. She scratched the back of her head. “Well, I visited Suika and Karin in their place for their weekly check up. And then I...I had four surgeries in a row. But I’m ready for dinner! Let’s go, Sasuke-kun!” Her attempt to tug at his hand failed when Sasuke remained still on where he was standing.

“You need to rest, Sakura.”

Her shoulders slumped forward. “But I need to eat too. I don’t know how to do both all at once.” She groaned. And true enough, her stomach started growling, but she was too exhausted to even feel ashamed.

“Annoying,” Sasuke muttered under his breath. “Follow me then.”

“W-wait! Where are we going?”

Sasuke stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes at her over his shoulder, suddenly remembering something. “Can you walk?”

“That’s not the answe—wait a minute...” She suddenly smirked which caused Sasuke to raise an eyebrow at her. “Why, Sasuke-kun? Are you planning to carry me? Because—ow!—my leg hurts right here, and I don’t think it’s—h-hey! Wait up!”

“Tch. You’re not a good actress, Sakura. You’re annoying,” Sasuke said, already a few strides away from her. When she fell in step with him, he stopped himself from laughing at the sight of her visible pout.

“Wouldn’t you actually do that if my legs were hurting?” And then Sakura mumbled, “I wonder what it feels like to be carried by you.”

But his sense of hearing was as sharp as his sense of sight with the Sharingan “I’ve done that a number of times back then, Sakura.” He smirked.

“Eh? You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

Deciding to press on the issue, she walked a few steps ahead and stopped right in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Alright, spill. Because I honestly can’t remember that happening.”

Sasuke sighed. He didn’t expect Sakura to be stubborn times two at her chakra-depleted state. As much as it was, in fact, annoying, it was still quite entertaining for him.

“One, when Orochimaru pretended to be Naruto,” he began. Both of them slightly flinched at the name of his former sannin sensei. “...which I’ve noticed so I kicked him. Two, when he was about to hit us with two kunai while we were under a genjutsu.” There was something amusing with the puzzled expression on the kunoichi’s face that made him pause. “Three, when you’ve been freed from Gaara’s sand. And four, when I...left you on a bench that...night.” He suddenly trailed off.

Somehow, Sasuke felt a tinge of guilt again at the reminder of those memories he had suddenly dug, especially that last one. He has always wondered if Sakura has totally gotten over what happened that night. But to his surprise, Sakura didn’t show him any look of disappointment or harbored hurt, only of curiosity.

“Oh.” Sakura blinked, once, twice, feeling a bit lightheaded which she thought was due to her effort in remembering the said instances. “So those were years ago?” She giggled sheepishly with a hand on her head. “I don’t seem to remember any of it though.”

With that, he sighed once more, thankful that Sakura didn’t have any grudges about their agonizing encounter on that eventful night. He cleared his throat. “Well, you surely don’t. You were either only half aware or completely uncon—”

“...Uh, Sasuke-kun?”

With widened eyes, he suddenly leaned forward and caught her limp body on reflex just in time. Still stunned, he recalled what happened in the past few minutes and grumbled to himself. If she didn’t stop to insist in discussing about the past instances wherein Sasuke has carried her, they would’ve reached their destination before she even passed out.

But now, he had to do it again, and Sakura wouldn’t even get the privilege of experiencing it while fully awake.

He shook his head and then released a soft cackle as he stared at the woman he now held protectively in his arm with the help of a Susanoo limb. “Tch. Again.”

With the way her head was throbbing, Sakura was certain that she wasn’t performing a surgery anymore, for if she was, she would’ve channeled some chakra in her temples to ease the headache. But what happened after she conducted an appendectomy anyway?

A familiar handsome face then entered her now fully awake mind, causing her eyes to snap open. It didn’t take a minute for her to recall the scenario before she lost consciousness. And then she rubbed a hand on her face. Did she really just faint in front of Sasuke? And did he really go out of his way to carry her to—

Wait. Where am I?

She carefully sat up on the bed while allowing her healing chakra to do its thing to her head. Looking around, she couldn’t remember being in the same location before. But when she saw the lone picture frame similar to hers on the desk nearby, and noticed the oddly familiar manly scent emanating from the duvet she was clutching, a blush appeared on her cheeks at the realization that she was in the Uchiha compound.

And she was exactly in the last Uchiha’s room.

With a beam on her face, her body fell once more on the bed, her hands pulling the duvet up to her face afterwards. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She has always believed Sasuke to be caring in his own ways, one that would fight for the lives of his comrades; however, this gentle and tender version of him was always astonishing to witness, especially now.

With the nature of her work, she was used to being the one to look after other people to the point that it has become a second nature to her. But there was something so heartwarming about having someone to look after her as well, something Sasuke seemed to be purposefully doing for the past month or so.

That’s when it dawned on her – for the first time in a long time, it was Dr. Sakura Haruno who was being well taken care of.

And much to her delight, the one making this possible was the man that she has come to love for so many years.

Meanwhile, where was this hospitable and caring gentleman?

Sakura hopped off the bed and made sure that she left it fixed. Due to not being familiar with Sasuke’s house, it took her some time to maneuver from hallway to hallway inside the large place.

A new smell took over her senses when she turned the last hallway. That’s where she finally saw the man she was looking for, immersed in his task as usual, but this time, his task at hand was kitchen-related. She found herself grinning at the sight, for it’s not everyday that one gets to see Sasuke Uchiha stirring something in a casserole with an apron around his torso.

She cleared her throat after a few seconds of admiring him from behind.

Sasuke stiffened then, hand gripping tighter on the wooden spoon he was holding. In a flash, the memory of seeing Sakura’s Byakugou seal up close due to him brushing his lips against it appeared on his mind.

“Hn.” He didn’t attempt to face her, adamant to conceal the crimson stain now painted on his cheeks. “Did you sleep well?”

Sakura’s smile widened. Years ago, it was a very rare occurrence for Sasuke to be visibly caring, but lately, it was like his aloof personality was slowly being peeled off right in front of her, just her. She couldn’t help but feel honored with that.

“Yes. Thank you so much, Sasuke-kun. So, you carried me again while I was unconscious, huh?”.

Sasuke smirked to himself, she was probably pouting now due to missing an opportunity of being carried in his arms while wide awake. But then, he heard a sigh.

“I really appreciate it. But...I’m sorry.”

He suddenly furrowed his brows as he heard her footsteps coming closer behind him. “What are you apologizing for?”

Sakura stopped by the table. Although it was such a sweet instance to have Sasuke go the extra mile for her today, a big part of her still couldn’t avoid feeling embarrassed about showing weakness in front of him. For a moment, she felt like her 12-year-old self that was hungry for the acknowledgement of her crush and teammate resurfaced, much to her dismay. “I didn’t mean to be a burden, Sasuke-kun.”

Oh. He was barely aware of the sudden change in her mood. Tipping his head over his shoulder, he glanced at her as she fiddled with the hem of her tunic. It was in moments like this that he knew he had to do or say something, for even when they were younger, Sakura seemed to have a skill in overthinking. And he didn’t like seeing the effect of that now.

“You shouldn’t exhaust yourself, Sakura,” he replied; his eyes were soft but his voice was unyielding. “You don’t need to overwork just to make sure that you’re saving many lives. You’ve already proven that fact.”

Sakura’s head snapped up. The way her eyes widened a bit after he spoke confirmed to Sasuke that she was able to read between the lines.

You’re not weak. You’re doing enough. And I admire that. But I don’t like seeing you forgetting about yourself.

When Sasuke returned his focus on his task, a lone tear fell on Sakura’s cheek as a growing affection for the man in front of her filled her chest. Part of her wanted to dart towards him and throw her arms around him, but she wasn’t that 12-year-old clingy fangirl in his life anymore.

She understood how Sasuke wasn’t a man of many words, but it was after hearing his recent statements – despite being vague – that she knew: Sasuke didn’t only care about her, but he also saw her worth.

How could she not fall even more in love with such a man?

With a content smile on her face, she wiped her tear with the back of her hand while her gaze was fixed at her beloved’s back. “Hai, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke’s lips curved upwards, feeling accomplished with his small contribution. “Hn. Dinner’s almost ready.”

As if on cue, Sakura’s stomach made a noise once again. She could swear she heard Sasuke chuckle before he turned around to face her. “Oop. Sorry!” Red-faced, she then sat down as he placed the appetizing meals on the table. “Wow, Sasuke-kun! I’m honestly quite surprised that you are adept in cooking.”

Sitting across her, he shrugged. “I had to be. I’ve lived alone since I was eight, Sakura.” And then he started putting food on their plates.

She simply gazed at him, mentally vowing to herself that she would do everything that she could to make sure that Sasuke would never feel alone in his life again. An idea then crossed her mind. “How about...next time, let’s stay at my place so I can return the favor and cook for you as well?” Keeping her composure, she separated her chopsticks as she waited for his answer, quite afraid that Sasuke would think differently about her sudden boldness.

It felt like an eternity passed when she observed how he stared at her for a long moment, seemingly wondering if she would really be willing to do such a thing for him. She looked down on her plate and bit her lip in anticipation. Somehow, she was already bracing herself for his refusal. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that Sasuke would reject an offer from her.

However, when she peered at him again, her heart skipped a beat upon seeing an almost unnoticeable yet genuine smile now plastered on his face.

“Thank you, Sakura.”

In one of their late night dinners, Sakura finally had the urge to ask Sasuke about something a lot deeper than their usual conversations.

Remembering how flustered and quiet Sasuke was when Suigetsu expressed how he and Karin have chosen the right path because of his influence, she wanted so bad to make sure that Sasuke understood the fact that he has come a long way ever since the war.

For some reason, the former avenger has such a fine skill in being too hard on himself. But Sakura thought it was just fitting to reassure him until he gained a change of perspective. For someone with unique and powerful eyesight like him, it saddened her how he couldn’t even see the good in himself.

“Sasuke-kun?”

The raven-haired man (whom she tried so hard not to call her date whenever they were seated across each other like now) glanced up at her as he chewed on his onigiri.

Her eyes didn’t meet his as she mentally prayed that she wouldn’t be dismissed with her question. “I know I’ve asked you before about how your journey was. I noticed how your answers were mainly about the things that you’ve seen, places you’ve visited, and people you’ve met, but…I think you haven’t mentioned much about...you.” She now looked at him. “How were you, Sasuke-kun, during your redemption journey?”

The silence was palpable. And there weren’t much food on the table that she could pretend to be focusing on while waiting for his answer. She didn’t want to rush him into discussing personal things, but she also believed that it’s time for him to completely forgive himself at the very least.

"There were days that were much difficult to survive than the others..." Sasuke began, catching her full attention. "...days that I thought should be the last. Days that made me believe that I'm better off having no tomorrow to wake up to." He absently traced patterns on his plate with his chopsticks as a vivid image of his brother's face before his undeserved demise crossed his mind again. "On some days, I...I remember Itachi, and all the things he had done for me and the village despite the immense cost. That's when the guilt cuts so deep. And then it makes me feel like redemption wasn't meant for me at all." Sakura’s eyes brimmed with tears. Although she has always known that he was a broken man due to losing his family horrendously at a young age, she had never seen him in such a state as if the injustice of the entire Shinobi world fell on his shoulders. Again, she felt honored that she got to witness that firsthand. But she didn’t want him to continue to dwell on that vulnerability.

"Forgiveness is available, Sasuke-kun. And so is hope.” She smiled faintly as her hand landed on top of his across the semi-filled table. “You just have to open up your heart for it."

Sasuke didn't know how to respond to that at first, for a part of him still believed that forgiveness is something that he has to work hard for, just like what he had been doing on his journey. But then, he gazed at the woman in front of her, and he was reminded of her love that he never even had to earn. Her love that he will never deserve. Her love that has always been there.

For such a long time it was just there, even during those moments that the Curse Mark consumed him, the Curse of Hatred changed him, and the drive for revenge destroyed him to the point of desiring to destroy others as well. And although he tried so hard to neglect and push that love away during his darkest days, it only waited and stayed. If such a love is possible, then forgiveness is available and hope is believable as well. Sasuke sighed, his eyes fixed on the hand above his. "You're right. There are things that I just have to accept after all. I understand now."

And then he gently pulled his hand so he could lace his fingers with hers. The gesture reminded him of that time he was bracing her hand for support while he was writhing in pain due to the tormenting effect of the Curse Mark – the very first time he welcomed any kind of comfort after the bloodshed of his entire family. This time, as his eyes met with her widened ones, he was welcoming her as a whole. He was accepting and reciprocating the love that's always been there even when he was most unlovable. And he was also finally completely receiving the forgiveness that has always been available for him – from the people closest to him, and also from himself.

———

(Karin - Part 7) 

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Hey guys! What do you think about this chapter? I kind of struggled writing this one because of some internal struggles as well. I think I’ve mentioned in one post before that I needed to take some time off of writing after experiencing a recent anxiety attack. But praise God, I still managed to get Part 6 done! :D

Please please let me know what you think! It’s always encouraging to hear from you. The past two weeks weren’t completely unproductive for the Epilogue of this is already done! ;) It’s much more difficult writing the middle parts, haha. Hence, Part 7 & 8 are still rough drafts as of now. Pray for me as I finish it! Thanks & God bless! 

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That last scene was inspired by the Love that I've personally experienced, the Love that you could experience for yourself too, the Love that we never even have to work hard for because it was made available to us for free despite the gravity of our sins that originally makes us bound to go to Hell.

And just like a gift, all we have to do is receive this Love, this then assures our redemption, and that we could be with the Author or Love for eternity in Heaven one day. It's been the best decision I've ever done since I've accepted Jesus as my Lord and Saviour. And more than the joy you give me whenever you read my fics, my heart would absolutely rejoice with you when the time comes that you decide to accept this Love as well :)

"This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins." — 1 John 4:10

It's the Love Month after all. And I believe the greatest gift I could possibly share with y'all is this Love. Belated Happy Valentine's Day, friends. :) See you on the next chapter! – A

[jennycalendar]

sick day

read it on ao3!

Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

for @worn-whorehouse-stairs, who asked for sleep-deprived/loopy giles. this isn’t Exactly All About That, but i hope it is still something nice to read!!! i love u bunches and you deserve all the nice things <33

set somewhere in the interim between ted and surprise.

Flu season was sweeping through Sunnydale with such intensity that Jenny was seriously considering devoting some research time to looking up demonic viruses. Even Willow, who had had perfect attendance throughout the entire first semester, had had to miss a few days of school to get better. Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

“Really, Jenny, don’t fuss,” Rupert was saying irritably as they left the meeting. “I’m sure it’s only a light cough—”

“Xander threw up in class last week,” said Jenny stubbornly, “and he was saying that it was just a cough too. The only reason Buffy hasn’t caught whatever’s going around is because she is a Vampire Slayer—” she determinedly ignored the bemused look thrown in her direction by a passing group of students, “—and you are not that, so you need to take the day off before your cough gets worse.”

“I am not a teenager,” said Rupert. “I have a full-fledged immune system, and Sunnydale depends on my being present to—”

“Exactly!” Jenny persisted. “You need to be present! And you’re not doing anyone any favors if you get struck down with the flu!”

“Well, then, I’d best make use of the time that I can work, hadn’t I?” countered Rupert, grinning triumphantly as though he thought he was making some kind of a valid point.

“You’re completely missing what I’m trying to say,” said Jenny, crossing her arms and fixing him with the Look she gave students who tried to talk their way out of doing homework. It didn’t have the desired effect on Rupert, who gave her a Look right back. “You’re important, Rupert, to—” She stopped, blushing. Maybe it was too soon to go there. “To a lot of people,” she said awkwardly. “Probably.”

Rupert bit his lip, giving her a little sideways grin. God, Jenny missed the days when he didn’t know her well enough to pick up on what she was really saying. “Well,” he said. “Those people have no need to worry, because I can take care of myself just fine,” and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Ugh,” said Jenny, stopping him before he could. “No. Sick person germs.”

“Jenny, really, it was just a cough—”

“Taking no chances!” Jenny stepped back, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take care of yourself! Get better!”

Rupert rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little as she turned to head to class.

And then, of course, Buffy called Jenny with that thread of panicked irritation in her voice that only ever came up when Rupert was being an idiot. Jenny, who had seen this coming a mile away, resignedly put down the papers she was grading and drove down to Sunnydale High, stopping only to pick up some ibuprofen for said idiot and some chocolate for Buffy.

Buffy appreciated the chocolate. “I deserve, like, so much candy for putting up with this,” she informed Jenny, taking a large bite of the Hershey’s bar. “He probably would have stayed passed out here all night if I hadn’t stopped by to check in, and where would we be then?”

“I am fine,” said Rupert, “if you would all stop fussing—”

“Facedown in the middle of a book is not fine, sweetie,” said Jenny, crossing the room to gently touch his cheek. “And I’m no expert, but it looks like you’re running a fever. You’re coming home with me.”

“Are you propositioning me in front of my Slayer, Ms. Calendar?” quipped Rupert, then sneezed.

“Yes,” said Jenny dryly, patting his shoulder. “That is definitely what I’m doing right now.” To Buffy, she added, “You kids can hold down the fort while I keep an eye on him, right?”

“Pretty much,” said Buffy, shrugging. “We’ll beep you if there’s an issue.” Her face softened slightly as she looked at both of them. “Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one he’d listen to.”

“Hardly,” said Jenny, amused. “I told him two days ago that he should take it easy.”

“If you would all stop talking about me as though I’m dead,” Rupert interjected, tried to stand up, and swayed alarmingly.

Buffy moved forward, steadying him. “I can still help you guys get home?” she offered. “I’m not going to be getting sick any time soon—thank you, Slayer mojo,” she grinned, ponytail swishing, “and I’m pretty sure trying to hold Giles up might totally crush you. You’re super tiny.”

“Pot, kettle,” Jenny pointed out, but gave Buffy a grateful smile in return.

“Now hold on,” said Rupert, still leaning heavily on Buffy. “I have not in any way agreed to this.”

“Aww, isn’t he sweet?” Buffy patted Rupert’s arm. “He thinks he has a choice!”

“So cute,” Jenny agreed, leaning in to kiss Rupert on the cheek. “All right, to my car?”

“No,” said Rupert.

“To your car!” Buffy sang out, towing Rupert out of the library. Pleased by her success, Jenny followed.

So it turned out Jenny had been completely off base, calling taking care of Rupert a challenge. Challenge was the word she used to describe troublesome students, or a virus on her computer, or another generally frustrating but inevitably solvable problem. In essence, calling Rupert’s illness a challenge implied that there was a logical way to figure out how to help him, and a good two hours spent trying to convince him to take cold medicine had made it clear that that was very much not the case.

“It’ll make me all loopy, Jenny,” Rupert informed her, completely disregarding the fact that he had said this exact sentence a good five times already. “A Watcher needs to be on high alert, not—not incapacitated by medicines designed to ease one into sleep—”

“Rupert,” said Jenny, who was by this point absolutely exhausted, “take the damn medicine.”

“I am a Watcher,” said Rupert with dignity, “not an invalid, and I shall not waste time being sick!”

“It’s not a waste of time to just let me take care of you!” Jenny snapped, too tired to remember how to be gentle. “Just—god, Rupert, you’re sick, and I care about you, and I want you to get better! And you’re not going to be doing that if you refuse point-blank to do the things that will help you get better!”

Rupert blinked at her, stunned. Then, in one smooth motion, he picked up the cold medicine, poured it into the little plastic cup, and drank it.

Jenny looked at him for a long five seconds, trying to figure out what the hell she had said that had changed his mind. “Okay,” she said, exhausted. “Are we going to have to spend another two hours trying to get you into bed, or—”

Rupert reached out and took her hand, and Jenny realized that he was shaking. “No, you can—you can just—I’ll go to bed, Jenny,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll help you,” said Jenny immediately. “Lean on me.”

“I’m f—” At the look on Jenny’s face, Rupert stopped, then let her help him up without further comment.

As Jenny carefully led him to her bedroom, she found herself wondering if her taking care of him had been as good an idea as she’d thought it was. Granted, she knew he needed someone there, because otherwise he’d have ended up researching until he was legitimately too sick to work, but…was she the kind of someone who was cut out for playing nurse? Their relationship always felt so fragile as it was—more than he realized, even, considering what she was keeping from him—and she felt as though she wasn’t good at being anything but frustrated and tired. Rupert was the gentle, caring one, with his soft touches and sweet kisses. If it had been her sick, Rupert would have been patient, and calm, and so much better at this.

Jenny was brought out of her mini-spiral as they reached her bedroom and then her bed, at which point she gently lowered Rupert down to the best of her abilities. He hadn’t been leaning on her quite as much as Buffy, which made the process a little easier, because Buffy hadn’t been wrong about how much bigger Rupert was than her. “Rest up, okay?” she whispered, then pressed an awkward kiss to his cheek, hoping it might make up for her impassioned outburst.

“Mm. Love you,” Rupert mumbled, eyes already shut.

Jenny felt his words like a jolt to her system. He thinks you’re someone else, her brain was telling her, he’s hopped up on cold medicine, he doesn’t know what he’s saying—but the part of her that knew they could both pretend this didn’t happen in the morning, that part of her let her lean down and whisper, “I love you too. Rest up.”

Jenny woke up all stiff and achy, Rupert’s head pillowed on her lap. She was used to stretching out and sprawling across the bed like a starfish, so lying propped up against the pillows with a weight in her lap (however much-loved that weight might be) wasn’t exactly conducive to a good night’s sleep.

Rupert was awake, and looked almost nervously up at her, as though expecting her to push him away. “Morning,” he said hoarsely.

“You sound awful,” Jenny informed him, unable to keep the tenderness out of her voice. “Do you want some water?”

“Hm,” said Rupert noncommittally, snuggling his cheek into her leg.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Tired,” Rupert mumbled, closing his eyes again.

Jenny sighed, leaning back into the pillows and trying to feel bad about telling Rupert she loved him last night. She didn’t. Most of what she felt right now was tired, coupled with a little warm rush every time Rupert shifted to get more comfortable. She ran her hand through his hair and thought about how maybe she could try and make him tea when he was feeling a little better.

It took Rupert about fifteen minutes to properly wake up, at which point he sat up, leaned against the pillows, and said tiredly, “I don’t want to be a bother, Jenny—you have better things to do than to, to take care of me—”

“Shh,” said Jenny, and kissed his forehead. “How’s your throat? Do you want me to make you some tea?”

Rupert didn’t answer. He leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and bumped his forehead against Jenny’s. “Don’t go, will you?” he mumbled. It didn’t sound at all like he was talking about her leaving to go make tea.

“Not ever,” Jenny promised without thinking. Rupert’s eyes snapped up to meet hers—promises were different in the morning, when they were both wide awake—and she blushed, stumbling to qualify her statement. “I mean—not ever as in I’m not ever leaving while—while you’re, um, sick. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rupert agreed. He had a small, wondrous smile on his face.

Jenny almost wanted to ask if he remembered how, the night before, he’d said love you and she’d said I love you too. She decided against it. Call her a romantic, but she kinda didn’t want such a monumental moment to be while Rupert was sick and she had barely gotten any sleep. “Tea?” she asked.

“Please,” said Rupert, and rubbed his nose against hers.

Jenny smiled, squeezed his shoulder, and clambered awkwardly off the bed, realizing belatedly that neither of them had ever changed out of their work clothes. Sighing, she pulled her sweater off, then stepped out of her skirt, rummaging for a t-shirt and sweats in the bureau. “I think I have chamomile,” she said over her shoulder. “Will that be okay?”

“Quite,” said Rupert, who seemed to be restricting himself to one-word answers.

T-shirt on, Jenny turned, donning the shorts as she gave Rupert a sympathetic smile. “Throat that bad?” she asked.

Rupert made a face.

God, he was cute. How dare he be that cute? “Okay, well, I’ll go try and fix that for you,” said Jenny, and leaned down over him to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “Stay here and I’ll come back in with tea and—are you hungry?” Rupert shook his head. “So just tea for now.”

Jenny wasn’t very good at making people tea. She’d always been more of a coffee girl herself, and when she was sick, she usually just drove out and bought herself some tea from Starbucks or something. It was a trial-and-error kind of process, and the tea came out tasting mostly like hot water, but Rupert’s face lit up when she came in with the mug, which made everything feel worth it.

“Is it doing anything?” she asked, wincing a little at the look on Rupert’s face as he took a sip. “I know I’m not that great at—”

Rupert put the tea down. He reached across the bed and held her hand.

“Oh,” said Jenny, and blushed. “Okay.”

“Terrible tea, Jenny,” said Rupert, but he said it in the same way he’d said that he loved her. “Really quite awful.”

Jenny laughed and moved a little closer to him. “Feeling better?” she asked, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Rupert hummed, leaning into her hand. “A bit,” he said. “Helps to get some sleep.”

“Are you gonna fight me if I ask you to take some ibuprofen?”

“I don’t think so,” said Rupert softly.

Jenny smiled, a little frustrated, a little in love. “What changed?” she asked.

Rupert hesitated. Then he said, “I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of me when I get sick. Not with—not for a reason outside what they expect of me.”

That statement, coming from one of the best people Jenny knew, made her want to punch a wall. Or a Watcher. Or whatever family member that had instilled such a fucked-up sense of duty in someone so fucking precious. “Well, I do expect you to get better,” she said, trying to laugh.

“Jenny,” said Rupert wryly, like he knew what she was trying to do.

Jenny exhaled, a nervous breath. “I’m not very good at taking care of people,” she said. “But—” and she didn’t know how to finish that sentence without turning this relationship into something really permanent. She stopped herself, and kissed him.

Rupert kissed her back, rubbing his nose against hers when she pulled away. “You’re doing a damn good job, I think,” he informed her.

“You haven’t been taken care of before,” Jenny countered. “I could be doing a terrible job and it’d still be better than nothing.”

“You’re trying,” said Rupert, “and that’s what counts,” and he rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over her stomach. “I,” he said, “am going back to sleep, I think. If the children beep you, tell them that I am ill and that you are my de facto Watcher for the day.”

“Sounds fun,” said Jenny, kissing the top of his head. “Do I get to wear tweed and talk all British?”

“Only if the children get it on video,” said Rupert into her shoulder.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Giles,” said Jenny contentedly, settling back into the pillows. “Let me know if you need anything, okay, babe?”

“Babe,” Rupert repeated, and giggled to himself. Jenny decided to attribute that to sick-person brain.

Buffy and the kids showed up with a care package after school, full of crossword puzzles and British-looking snacks and chicken soup from Buffy’s mom. “Tell him get better soon from us!” said Buffy earnestly, handing the package over. “We’d stay, but, y’know—sick person germs.”

“Gotcha,” said Jenny, grinning. “He’ll be happy you guys stopped by. I’m pretty sure he’s still napping, anyway, so—”

“Nice place, Ms. Calendar!” said Xander with interest, peering over Buffy’s shoulder. “Is that the new Nintendo system?”

“Anyway,” said Jenny. As much as she liked these kids, she was pretty sure Rupert needed actual rest, and having three teenagers loudly playing video games in her living room might make it difficult for her stuffy librarian to get some sleep.

“She’ll let you play on it when Giles gets better,” said Willow wisely, shepherding Buffy and Xander down the stairs. “Thanks for taking care of Giles, Ms. Calendar!”

“Of course she’s gonna take care of him,” Jenny heard Buffy saying, “she li-ikes him—” at which point Jenny shut the door, amused.

Rupert was in that semi-foggy half-asleep state that he’d been in for most of the day, but he did perk up a little when Jenny came in with the care package, which was, frankly one of the most adorable things she had ever seen. “Is that for me?” he said, visibly delighted.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Jenny answered, sitting down on the bed next to him and opening the package. “Lots of sick person stuff. Plus some chicken soup from Mrs. Summers, if you’re feeling up to eating…?”

“I can manage chicken soup, I think,” said Rupert happily, pressing a slightly off-center kiss to Jenny’s cheek. “This really is very nice, Jenny, thank you very much for doing it—”

Jenny decided that now probably wouldn’t be the right time to remind him that she had spent a good two days fighting him to get him to lie down. “Of course,” she said instead, squeezing his shoulder. “How’s my English patient?”

“A bit better, I think,” said Rupert, then sneezed. “Well. Not all better, but getting there.”

“That’s a good start,” said Jenny, her voice softening. “You work yourself too hard, you know that?”

She was expecting some opposition from Rupert on this point. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to sigh, lean into her, and say quietly, “I know.”

“Then why do it?”

“Who else will?”

“Me,” said Jenny.

Rupert looked slowly up at her, a look in his eyes she had only seen a few times before. The moment after their first kiss, the night when he draped his jacket over her shoulders, and—now. Apparently. “You,” he echoed, as though finding the answer to a question he hadn’t known he had.

I love you too, Jenny thought, and realized that maybe they didn’t need to say it to know it.