#my brain simply refused to shut up until i drew this

[sandinabottle]

Nightmare and Dream human designs because; yeah. B) felt like it. it was supposed to be just a sketch at first so I could get my ideas down but oh well ig

yellow

[writingwisterias]

Mine

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Dom Leon, Sub Reader, Praise Kink, Restraints, Daddy kink, Spitting, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Choking, Age-Gap, Slight Dd/lg dynamics, Mirror Sex, Poessive Leon, Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of body changes during pregnancy

Summary: After returning from a hard mission successfully, Leon has been ignoring you opting to close in on himself...getting fed up with the lack of attention and worried he will slip back into his old ways you try to get it back at him, only to end up with him giving you the punishment he thinks you deserve.

Can anyone tell if I have a breeding kink yet? My requests are open if anyone wants any more fics like this!

He was pissed. You could tell as his back was tense, his muscles tight as he led you throughout the events room, and your heels slipping against the hardwood floor as you barely managed to keep up with his pace. You didn't even notice that one of his coworkers had gotten close to you on the dance floor until he began touching you, however, you also didn't stop him. You were just enjoying the buzz of the large amounts of champagne you had drank so the night was even bearable. Neither of you wanted to come to this work event, to Leon it felt strange celebrating the so-called success of the mission even though there were so many lives lost and to you - you just didn't want to put up with the sour attitude he seemed to have gained since returning. You knew his job was hard and he faced many things so you never would have to thanks to what he does but it was hard to see him retreating into himself, snapping at you instead of cuddling and doting on you like he normally would. You could see that he was losing himself to the drinks that found their way into his hands every night; closing himself off which then eventually led to sloppy sex and drunken arguments. You were beginning to worry he would fall back into his old ways if you could drag him out of it.

Maybe that's why instead of pushing the coworker away you drew him in closer with the hypnotizing sway of your hips, the man's hands slipping over the satin of your red dress as he brought you closer to his body. The alcohol brought a smile to your features as you leant back into him, finally basking in the affection and lust you had desired the past few weeks. You could feel Leon's piercing gaze from the bar, your eyes landing on his features as he sipped from the whiskey glass. His gaze was heated, his jaw tight you would think his teeth would crumble away from the pressure he was putting on them. Part of you wanted to cringe away and run back to him like a little lost puppy like you always did. But after how he's been treating you (and the liquid encouragement you have been sipping on for the past hour) you decided to spin around in the man's arms; looping your own around his neck. Leon made you jump when he appeared, his grip hard on your arm as he ripped you away from the man and led you to the exit.

Leon thanked the valet man as he took the keys, making sure you were buckled in safely before slamming the door shut. The sound made you jump; before you began smoothing out the skirt of your dress to hide your reaction. Rock music flickered on throughout the car as the engine turned on, the city lights blurring together as he drove off. Your eyes remained on the passing skyline, refusing to acknowledge how his hand remained on the gearstick, not your thigh like normal. The silence left you stewing in your own thoughts, questions of how you were going to rectify the situation swirling around your drunken brain. His focus remained on the road, his hands now clenched around the steering wheel, your hand crept into his space; jolting at the feeling of your fingers splayed out along the hard muscle of his thigh. They began dancing teasingly around the bulge of his jeans. But instead of adjusting himself, relaxing back into the seat he simply lifted your hand and placed it back in your own lap. Sighing lightly you rested your head against the window getting lost in the swirling lights as they passed.

He finally glanced your way as you shuffled into the elevator, his gaze was intense as he watched you. Your heel-clad feet shuffled against the floor as you swayed slightly - evidence that you weren't quite sobered up yet. Leon's brain was loud with the constant thoughts battling, wondering whether he should continue to ignore you or finally give in and remind you of who you belonged to. His eyes landed on the necklace that dangled above your cleavage. The encrusted diamonds twinkled in the low light of the elevator with each breath you took. He stared at the L, the only symbol of your belonging to him. He supposed he could have put an equally beautiful and expensive ring on your finger - the easiest way for someone to know you were his. But there was no fun in that, he couldn't watch his seed spill out from between your thighs as he finished claiming you. Praying during his observation that this was the load that took, that would soon cause your sweet body to swell with evidence of himself. He felt his cock twitch at the prison it was enclosed in, his hands finding their way into his jacket pocket as he continued to stare at your pretty thighs.

He never thought he wanted children or a wife but after having met you in some dingy bar he rolled into after a hard mission all of that changed. You were sweet and easy - a stark contrast to everything else in his life but once you finally fell in his sheets the grin on his face when he saw finally how you presented yourself so perfectly for him. Your smooth skin against his scarred fingertips felt heavenly, your pretty whines and moans were just the sweetest tunes to him as he would pump his cock deep inside of you. He fell into the role you needed with ease, the age gap was never an issue for him. With you, he got a chance to live, a chance to have all the things that the younger cop inside of him dreamed of. That's why his blood filled with rage when he watched you dancing with his much younger coworker, the man having no idea who you belonged to, not even paying attention the the L that dangled between your breasts.

His body loomed behind you as you unlocked the door to your apartment, you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. Once you had made it inside you turned to face him, to finally demand attention after all these weeks. Even preparing a few tears but his face made you shut off the act almost instantly, his eyes darkening as he glanced at the soft fabric that lay perfectly over your frame. "Bedroom" He finally spoke, his voice low and rough. You slipped the heels off, ignoring their clatter against the floor as you dropped them. Your bare feet slapped against the floor as you made your retreat.

You perched against the edge of the bed, your hand instantly finding comfort in the necklace as you fiddled with it. "So you do know who you belong to then" He spoke as he walked through the door, his back straight and chin held high. You nodded, shame and guilt replacing the alcohol in your system faster than you would have expected. "Come on now darling, you can use your words" He spoke again, his form now slotting himself in between your thighs. His fingers pinched the tip of your chin lightly as he raised your eyes to meet his, smiling at the sorrow that was already displayed in them. "I do" You spoke meekly. Leon finally pressed his lips against your own and you groaned at the taste of him. Your small hands spread out against his thighs; gripping at the fabric. You whimpered as he pulled away, wincing slightly as he pushed your cheeks together and forced your mouth open ready for you to take the spit he drippled into your mouth. "So greedy for Daddy's attention you'll take anything" He whispered, his hands stroking your hair lovingly as he gazed down at you. "Strip" He commanded as he stepped away, the warmth being relaxed with lust and desire as he began watching you intensely.

Your dress pooled at your ankles as you stepped away from the fabric, your underwear still encasing your pretty pussy in a tiny pink bow. Leon swallowed, ignoring his twitching cock practically growling at the sight of your soft skin. He smirked as your dumb eyes followed his finger to the bed, obeying his command without question. He eagerly watched as your breasts bounced as you got comfy, settling yourself against the softness of the sheets below you. He worked on undoing the silky tie that hung around his neck, his shoes clicking against the floor as he approached you. Leon's hands were gentle as he tied the fabric over your eyes, smiling at the way you squirmed slightly as his fingers brushed against the nape of your neck as he pulled away.

Part of him felt bad for leaving you like this, but he was sucked into the world of his own pain he didn't realize how much he had neglected you. He was defiantly going to repay you for all these weeks you had spent with an aching cunt but first, he needed to remind you who's in charge. You could hear him manoeuvring around the room, opening drawers and rummaging for things. Each item landed on the bed with a soft thud. Your fingers smoothed over the silky tie, itching to untie it. "Don't you dare" his voice whispered in your ear. You hadn't even realised he was so close. You fought back a smile as you felt his hands wrap around your wrists bringing them above your head. You felt him tighten the leather cuffs around your wrists holding them in place with a bar in between, the cold leather cooling your heated skin. The bar spread your hands apart at a comfortable distance, the metal clattering against the headboard as you tested the tightness of them. You gasps as Leon gently nipped at your peaked nipples, taking the bud in his mouth and sucking on it. The pads of his fingers ran along your smooth skin, drawing delicate patterns in their wake. He watched as your back arched once he reached your clothed pussy, smirking at the dampness of the gusset.

"My poor baby, all needy for her Daddy" Leon teased as he ran his fingers along the fabric. You whimpered as he retracted the digits to pull the panties down your legs, nipping at the skin along the way. Leon lifted your legs, inserting himself in between them, the small hairs that littered along his thighs tickled your own as he rested them on top. A low buzzing sound filled the room making you jump when the toy he had bought out finally made contact. Leon chuckled lowly as you squirmed away once the bullet made contact with your puffy clit. Normally Leon would warm you up, using the toy along your body, the cold metal leaving goosebumps as it moved across your skin; but not this time. Your breaths began to shorten as your body desperately attempted to adjust to the sudden stream of pleasure that coursed through you. Your lower half became numb with white pleasure as he began to circle the toy around the sensitive nub making sure not to stray too far away from it. He watched carefully at the way your body squirmed, your mouth parting to let out your oh-so-sweet whimpers; paying attention to every small detail ready to pull the pleasure at just the right time.

You tugged against the restraints, your fingers curling into fists desperate to clutch onto something. Leon smirked when he pulled the pleasure away, his cock jumping at the high-pitched whine that left your plump lips. "Daddy-please I'm so sorry" you began to cry, hiding your head into your arm as best you could with them still being suspended above you. Leon's heart broke at the sight of your frustrated tears, wanting nothing more than to treat you to the pleasure you craved and he had neglected to give you. "Sorry for what?" he spoke again, pressing the toy against your clit again. He grinned as you squirmed desperately on the bed. "For dancing with the man" You cried against your arm, the bar clatering again as you fought against them, trying to finally grasp at Leon. "I bought you this necklace so you wouldn't forget baby, but you still did" he teased, his fingers playing with the initial hanging against your chest. You could feel your release creeping in again, your toes curling as your hips bucked up to the pleasure. "I didn't- I still know" You whimpered.

Leon smiled at you, his tip flushed red as it sat proudly against his toned stomach. His pre-cum dribbled steadily down his shaft like he was a teenager again. "I wish you could see what you do to me baby" he spoke, stroking strands of your hair away from your face. He pulled the toy away, smirking at the sound that you released in a fit of frustration. "Please" You begged, tears brimming in your eyes. "I really want to"

Instead, you felt his hand grip at your hips, helping you roll over as he pressed your chest into the mattress arching your back perfectly so he could see your dripping entrance. Leon's body leaned over your own, his weeping tip slotting in between your cheeks; rubbing himself against you as he slowly removed the tie from your eyes. He chuckles at you groan of frustration that even though he has returned your sight you still can't see him yet. Your hands were still spread out in front of you as he began to gather your slick against himself. Eventually, you felt him prodding at your entrance, groaning at the stretch as he slowly entered. Your gummy walls stretched to accommodate his girth. His movements were painfully slow as he began to thrust, his hands loosely grasping at your hips. Your whimpers made him smile as you desperately tried to buck back into him chasing an orgasm you only prayed he finally gave you. "Please...I learnt my lesson I swear" you cried, burying your flushed face into the plush duvet below you. Leon paused, his cock half in your walls; he grinned at the ring of your arousal at the base and the way you tried to impale yourself further on his cock only stopped by his grip tightening.

"I'm going to pump you so full of my seed that it's going to take and show everyone who you belong to" Leon whispered in your ear as he leant back over you. You watched as his fingers began to undo the cuffs, your mind becoming fuzzy from his words, his scent and the fact you were soon going to be able to touch him. Your small brain remembers to wait for his command at least as you watch the leather fall from your wrists. "Good girl, being so obedient for me...just the way I like" he whispered as he finally rose from your back. His praise caused your pussy to clench around the tip of his cock, eliciting a groan from his lips. His hands brought yours around his neck, lifting you against him as he began to thrust upwards. Your fingers instantly wove themselves in the blond strands, hiding your face against his pulse point, enjoying the way his muscles moved against your back. Your mind blocked out the sound of the toy as he began to speed up his pace, moaning loudly when the bullet made contact with your sensitive skin. Leon knew it wouldn't take long for your orgasm to ripple through you, opting for his other hand to tweak and grope one of your perked breasts.

"Look baby" he spoke, bringing your attention to the mirror you hadn't realized he had lined you both up with. Your eyes instantly were glued onto the sight of his cock fucking into you. "I want you to see what I will do to you, watch yourself take my load deep inside this perfect pussy like the good girl you claim to be" he spoke lowly, small grunts leaving his lips as his eyes were also glued onto the sight in front of you both. You met his eyes in the mirror, his darkened stare meeting your own with such lust that you finally felt the release flood through you.

But he didn't stop, his hips never stopping their pace instead increasing as he felt your gummy walls continue to clench around him. His hand left your breast instead finding its way around your neck, a new perfect necklace for you instead of the initial. His brain became fuzzy as he thought of his animalistic desire to breed you. To watch as you swelled with his cum. His balls tightened at the thought of your frame changing, at how beautiful you would blossom to be after what he had done to you. His grip tightened around your neck, and the lack of oxygen caused your brain to become fuzzy as you gazed up at him. Craving to taste his lips.

He met them in a sloppy kiss, his grip loosening slightly as he finally grunted inside you, spilling his warm seed deep inside of you. You both watched as it dribbled out from where you were conjoined. Your chests scyronising as you both caught your breaths. "I'm so sorry Daddy" you whimpered out, the fussiness of your brain finally reducing as you continued to stare at each other in the mirror. "I won't dance with anyone again" Leon smiled, kissing the crown of your head. "Don't worry love, everyone will know who you belong to now" He spoke as his hand fell over your stomach rubbing the soft skin there.

[catscidr]

Dr ratio and student (adult) reader who tried really hard to study but she is kinda failing? 😭 I once had strict teacher like ratio and he was softer to me, so Idk if ratio would be the same or even more mean

this is a little different from what you asked. BUT. i Do think that he wouldn't be mean n would help u study because it means you're trying to not be an idiot and his whole shtick is trying to make people less dumb. ykwim. i might've projected a littol bit... times r tough what can i say <(ㅍ _ㅍ)> cw: blurb/headcanon format (?), hurt/comfort technically because ratio is a little mean. it's not that bad tho trust, university setting includes: gn!student!reader, professor!veritas ratio, can be read as either platonic or romantic (or favoritism lmao) wc: 1k

-ˋˏ I think he would be pretty frustrated at first. How come all your studying did little to nothing to change your less-than-ideal grades? Especially when he’s the one teaching you, at this point it’s an insult to him and his teaching skills! 

-ˋˏ ...but when you showed up to his office with your lips curled down in deep a frown, downturned brows and meek eyes that refused to meet his gaze for more than three seconds and reflected just how embarrassed (and almost ashamed) you were, he could only sigh and wave his hand to gesture for you to come in. 

-ˋˏ You took out your textbook, your notes and the study guide he had made specifically for the final exam. They felt heavier in your hands than they usually do, since now he could very well take a single look at your messy, scribbled notes and turn you away for “wasting his time” like you’ve seen him do with other struggling students. You couldn’t afford failing this exam though, so you place down your things on his (now cleared) desk and sit at the edge of the chair he had across of him, silently praying to whatever god to grant you some mercy. 

-ˋˏ His first reaction was... not good, for lack of better words. Your notes were a mess and there were splotches of black all over about five pages— the result of an unfortunate accident where your pen exploded in your hands during an all-nighter. He was tempted to turn you away or to, at the very least, scold you for being so disorganized, but he wouldn’t be the infamous Doctor Veritas Ratio if he did. One look at you and he could tell that you hadn’t slept properly in God-knows how long, that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in just as long, and that you had the drive to study, but for a reason unknown to you, simply couldn’t. Or, at least not in a way that made you retain the information you tried to hammer into your brain. 

-ˋˏ You'd sit there; hands folded in your lap, eyes refusing to meet his, silently waiting for him to say something, anything lest you implode on the spot. Ratio would gloss over your notes, eyes lingering on the little doodles of yourself you drew in the margins of the page with a little speech bubble saying ‘help’ right above it, and would hold in a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest he would lean back in his chair and tilt his head, burning holes in your skull until you lifted your head up. He wouldn’t say a word, he’d be as patient as he needed to be, waiting. 

-ˋˏ When you finally looked over at him you swore you felt your heart drop to your ass (how long had he been staring?) as you forced yourself to not grab your stuff and dip. “Um-” you started speaking but he promptly shut you up by interrupting you with a question of his own; “Do you honestly think you can study adequately in such conditions?”  

-ˋˏ (Of course he’d notice, you scold yourself internally. There’s no way to successfully hide the dark circles under my eyes.) 

-ˋˏ You’re taking way too long to answer, too absorbed into your head to speak, and it’s starting to get under his skin. His frown seems embedded onto his face, the absence of his plaster head making you quiver in fear from the sheer amount of frustration he must feel because of you. Unfortunately, you’re nowhere near as observant as he is— because if you were, you would have noticed that his frustration wasn’t aimed at you, but at himself. How did he let it get this bad? He’s supposed to be a teacher, and teachers are supposed to care for their pupils

-ˋˏ (It might seem like he couldn’t give two shits about his students, but he does care— in his own harsh way. He considers kicking people out of his class a blessing; if he didn’t care about their wellbeing, he would have let them stay and feel stupid as well as let them be completely overwhelmed as a result of not understanding the content of his lessons and the workload he assigns. Of course, he doesn’t want people to drop his class, but if that’s what it takes for people to not go insane then so be it. He’s made peace with it.) 

-ˋˏ “When was the last time you were able to sleep for longer than eight hours consecutively?” he asks, intense gaze unfaltering as your eyes dart all over his office in a poor attempt at avoiding the inevitable. Finally, you look at him sheepishly, and mumble a number that was far from satisfactory in his books. He clicks his tongue and unfurls his arms, grabbing your books strewn across his desk and shuts them, sliding them over towards you. You sit, puzzled and flustered that you’ve gone all this way just for him to kick you out. If he was going to be an ass, he should have just dismissed you as soon as— 

-ˋˏ “Your assignment is to get a good night’s rest. Do not come into my classroom if you haven’t slept for 8 hours minimum. If I see you work dark circles as prominent as the ones you have right now, I’ll drag you to the nearest bed or couch myself.” 

...Can’t say you expected that kind of response. 

-ˋˏ You can’t even get a word in before he beats you to it, already knowing what you were about to say. “I’ll let you retake the exam if I deem your health to be unacceptable when you arrive in the lecture hall for the exam.” You shut your mouth, unsure of what to even say in response. You really felt like you were being scolded. 

-ˋˏ He would gladly help you study when you come back looking (and feeling) refreshed, though. Not that he’d show it with his body language, but his actions said everything. He’d bring energy bars for you to snack on while he explained material you struggled with, would be patient when you’d ask seemingly dumb questions (one time you asked him why he hadn’t kicked you out of his class yet, and that was the first time he actually scolded you. Because that was the first dumb question you asked him). 

[kiame-sama]

28 Years - Yandere!Silva x Reader (2nd Pregnancy)

Many have asked and now, here it is!!

Warnings; Dub-con, pregnancy, yandere relationship, manipulation, mention of past abuse, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere tendencies, nsfw, Silva extreme views, family bonding,

It had been a few years- close to six- but the scars of your emotional turmoil were still present in your behavior and actions. You would become distressed whenever Silva attempted to be intimate with you, only calming down when he would back off, giving you the space you needed. Sometimes he would and sometimes he wouldn't, but he generally had not lain a single hand on you with any intent to hurt or force you to do anything.

It seemed he might have learned from his egregious error of taking Illumi away from you and punishing you for running away from him. Now he was cautious and treated you like glass in his grip, still keeping you close as often as possible and readjusting you to his touch. Some progress has been made- you no longer flinched from his touch or sobbed when he held you- but you still reacted like you were being burned or tortured with any kind of intimacy.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Silva hated seeing your pained expression, listening to your frightened whimpers and cries, seeing your panic whenever he tried to pin you under him, and most of all he hated how you never seemed to enjoy intimacy with him anymore. Even when he had first kidnapped you, you would make such loud noises and moans of pleasure any time he touched you and now you just panicked and cried. He didn't think your rejection of his affection would impact him so deeply, but he honestly couldn't remain hard or cum when you cried in such a way whenever he took you.

He was unable to enjoy it if you didn't enjoy it.

He could be a patient man, but he also had burning needs that drew him into near feral insanity if he refused to indulge in them. Silva NEEDED you. He needed your touch, your affection, your intimacy, all of it. He had tried to ignore his needs more than once before and almost every time he was unable to last very long, aching with desire just to feel your touch against his skin.

Even if it meant you were striking him or cursing at him, he would feverishly accept your touch with absolute glee. He was so sick with how desperately he needed you. His only 'cure' to this aching need was indulgence in his addiction to you. He was addicted to everything you had to offer and to everything you did. Nothing other than you mattered to him because you were his world. You were his love, his light, his everything.

True to his assassin nature, he quietly entered the room, frowning upon seeing you curled up in your shared bed and slightly shivering from the cold his absence seemed to cause. He chose to wake you gently, massaging your shoulders and murmuring softly to you in a husky hum.

"(Y/n), wake up..."

"Ngh... Hm? Silva? What is it?"

"I want to try something with you."

He felt your body stiffen as you fully awoke due to his words, fear and anxiety shooting through you almost violently at the implications his words had. You could only muster a whimper and start shaking your head back and forth, not trusting your words to be enough to deny his advances. Still he persisted, arms snaking around your midsection and pulling your back up against a warm chest.

"Shh... Trust me."

"No... No. No! No no no no no no no no!"

You were thrashing like a wild animal at this point, clawing for freedom and screaming out as if in pain, biting him when you could as you tried to wrench yourself from his grasp. He continued to simply hold you close as you thrashed, wailing and fighting his grip with all you had. But even your energy had to die down at some point, panting and whining pathetically as you lay exhausted in his arms.

"It's alright. It's okay... See? You're okay."

"No..."

"Yes. Have I hurt you during all of this?"

"... No..."

"See? I just need you to trust me. It won't hurt and we can take this as slowly as you want."

"I don't want it..."

"You do. You just think you don't because you're scared. I hurt you. I have done you wrong and unknowingly enforced the idea of intimacy being a punishment. I should have shown restraint and should have never done what I did to make you run in the first place. Let me show you this is different. Let me show you it's okay."

"..."

Your whimpers quieted as you lay hyper aware of any movement Silva made, feeling one arm drag down your side and his hand come to a rest on your lower stomach. When you didn't immediately try to push him away, he continued to follow the soft curve of your body until his large hand was parting your thighs. He slid his hand into your sleep pants where he cupped your heat and gently kissed your shoulder, slowly beginning to rub light pressure over your sensitive body.

The softest of noises left you, some kind of mix between a whimper and a moan, uncertain if you were whining from fear or due to the gentle movements of your husband. When Silva added a bit more pressure to your warm heat, you expected a flash of pain to stab through you, instead a soothing sensation ran through your mind and compelled you to calm just a bit more. Your light moans seemed to be the only confirmation Silva needed to keep going, sliding his hand gently between your soft folds, fingers prodding at your wet entrance.

Your mewling moans turned into gasps of pleasure as you gripped his thick arm, pressing back against his warm chest and whining in bliss. The light feeling of his lips trailing over your neck made you whine and shiver, hips beginning to slowly move with his relaxed strokes. You could feel how much your responses were affecting him given the rock-hard length that pressed stiffly against your back, pulsing in desire and need.

He tugged at your loose sleep clothes, easily sliding them off of your body, leaving you bare against his broad chest. His hands were warm as they slid over your chilled flesh, letting the heat sink into your body and warm you to the core. It was clear he was taking great care to not cause you any level of pain, given his relaxed touch and gentle behavior.

You whimpered when he moved so you were laying face-down on the bed, your hips raised up and his muscled body over your own. The firmness that pressed against you made you mewl and turn your head to look at him in vague fear despite the slick that coated your thighs. It was clear you were still frightened and hesitant to the idea of intimacy with Silva after what he had done to you, but the large hands on your hips gave you little room to voice that fear.

"Shh... It's alright..."

He shifted above you and you were about to question what it was he was doing when an intense warmth met your pulsing pussy, gasping and gripping at the blankets as an obscene slurping sound met your ears. Silva lapped his tongue at your soaked heat, making you mewl and cry out against the blankets beneath you, arching your back as pleasure hummed through your entire body. You couldn't stop the moans that tumbled from your lips due to the mind-numbing bliss that sparked through your brain, balling up your fists as you tried to hold back the sounds.

"Fuck..! Fuck, it- it's so good..!"

You were practically drooling at that point from the pleasure that coiled itself tightly in your abdomen, your eyes clenching shut as you continued to whine loudly. Silva seemed to only be spurred on from your pleasured noises, sinking his tongue as deeply into you as he could, gripping your hips and moving you in time with his desperate licking. When you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, you let out a loud screech of bliss as that coil snapped and flooded your body with euphoria, shaking from the sheer force of the pleasure.

"There we go... Fuck, you look so good squirting for me like this."

A whine left your exhausted form as he slid two fingers into you, moving and scissoring them slowly to get your warm walls to loosen for him. You were able to just lean into your pillows, feeling the echos of pleasure building up inside of you once more as Silva slowly but surely worked you over. He continued with his slow movements, letting you move your hips back against his fingers and fucking yourself on them at the pace you wanted all while admiring the wonderful view he had of your blissed out expression.

When your hips began to slightly stutter and jerk at a faster pace, he pulled away from you, relishing the sound of your needy whine of disapproval. He didn't hesitate to lick his fingers clean of your slick, getting a few more slow strokes of his tongue on your soaked pussy before getting to the matter at hand. He lined himself up, only allowing the tip of his large cock to rub against your tight hole as he gently massaged your hips.

"Would you like more?"

"Ple-please! Yes- yes, please, Silva! I need- ngh- I need more!"

"Then go ahead and take more. Go as fast or as slowly as you wish. Take my cock into you."

Silva was actually slightly surprised at how you reacted to his words, almost trying to take him in too quickly as you pushed your hips back, letting him sink deeper into you. The sheer stretch of taking his entire length was enough to make your toes curl in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment just to try and adjust to the full feeling. Some part of him wondered if you were even fully aware of the grasp you had on his heart, the sole being that held all of his affections and attention.

"Silva..! Please..! I need you to move..!"

You were mewling under him, gripping the sheets tightly as you whimpered and tightly closed your eyes. It was clear that you were in need of some kind of release and he was the only one who could provide it for you.

He wouldn't deny your breathy pleas, at least.

Starting with a slow tempo that built up to a near impossible speed, the bed creaked and complained loudly beneath you due to his unrelenting thrusts. You were in mind-numbing bliss and truly didn't care about the absolute racket you were making as you practically screamed out your moans, letting the sculpted man move your body as he pleased. Silva was in a similar state, lost to the pleasure of hearing your sweet moans as he buried himself inside of you.

He had yearned for such a sound for quite a bit now and your rejection of his affection over the past few years had left him nearly starved for you. Truly, there was only so much he was able to take when it came to resisting his physical need for your touch, wanting desperately to just hold you and have you cry out for him. He was finally able to feel your tight walls milk his hot cock and listen to your breathy moans, seeing you writhe in pleasure from the large cock buried inside of you.

"Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love me. Scream it for me."

"Ngh-! Silva! I- fuck- I love it..! So big..! So damn good! Please! Please I need more!"

Despite the fact you did not say everything he wanted to hear, Silva continue to rut into you with fast angled thrusts that made you practically see stars. His grip on your hips was tight, but you didn't register anything other than that thick length moving inside of you wildly. Even as your eyes rolled back, you couldn't help the whining moans that wrenched from your throat fiercely.

The moment that pressure growing within you broke, you wailed out in a near tortured moan while pleasure washed over you for what felt like ages. The hot ropes of cum filling up your soft stomach only seemed to prolong the pleasure that ran through your veins, as if time itself stood still around you. When Silva finally pulled out of you, you collapsed on the bed and panted heavily, feeling almost too full as you moved to a much more comfortable position.

Silva's large arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, letting you sink into the warm heat that radiated from his sculpted figure. It was truly as if the two of you were just basking in the presence of one another all while you slipped back off into sleep, content with the warm figure that held you so close. Silva took longer to just enjoy the moment after finally getting to embrace you once more without any fear getting in the way.

For now, it seems he had managed to mend the scars of his egregious error and had you content to be with him once more.

~~~~~~~~

You lay on your side, curled up on the tile floor of your shared bathroom, trying to get the queasy feeling to subside enough to move. You honestly couldn't remember a time where you felt half as unwell as you did at that moment, feeling tears sting your eyes as your throat burned with exhaustion. At that point, all you really wanted was to sleep, but with the current exhausted state your body was in, you had no way of reaching the comfort of your bed or the warm embrace of your blankets.

The quiet sound of your door opening drew what little you had left of your attention span, hardly able to lift your head all that far from the tile as you attempted to rouse your body into an upright position. Despite your efforts, it was clear there was no way you were going to be able to sit up and so you simply remained on the cold tile as you awaited whomever had entered the room. To your vague surprise it was not Silva who came through the door, it was Zeno and he honestly seemed as if he hadn't expected to find you in the state you were currently in.

With a surprising gentleness, the elder came to your side and rest the back of his hand on your forehead. He seemed to have some level of honest concern as he gazed down at your exhausted form splayed out on the tile.

"Shall I go retrieve that useless doctor of yours?"

"... Please..."

It took more effort than you had expected to huff out that one word, feeling oddly cared for and respected simply for the fact he asked what you wanted instead of acting of his own accord. Silva would have never done that. He would have taken one look at your unwell state and practically ran to retrieve your kind doctor to have you checked for any cause that may explain your current position.

It didn't take long for him to send out word to have your doctor come to your room before he was back by your side. Truly, if there ever were a time you felt honest appreciation for your father in law, it would be at that exact moment. He could have easily left you to suffer alone on the tile and instead not only sent for help, but returned to your side to wait with you.

"Is there anything you need at this moment?"

"..."

You tried to form some kind of sentence to respond to him, but you felt as if the energy had just been ripped out of you as your eyes began to slowly close. A sharp snapping sound brought your attention back to the man before you who now seemed to almost be more than just concerned.

"No sleeping. Not yet. Do your best to remain awake, Brat."

The faintest of smiles pulled at your lips when you heard that name that he only used for those he felt responsible for as well as those he cared for. Zeno was an assassin through and through and was a proud man at that, but he did have some kind of emotions that were reserved for family and close friends of the family. He was cold and to the point with almost everyone, but he was far more gruff and pushy with those he actually cared about given the way he has had to live on where his wife had died delivering Silva.

It was the only way he knew how to show affection.

"Where..?"

"Silva? Just left on a job this morning. A long job. It should take him at the least a month, if not longer. Of course you would choose now of all days to fall ill, Brat."

"Not.. dead yet..."

A low huff of amusement came from the older man as he sighed and sat next to you on the floor, keeping you constant company despite having no obligation to do so.

"I'm not telling Silva about this until he gets back. You know as well as I do that he would leave the job the moment he heard you were unwell. That fool loves you more than even he realizes."

His words, though harsh, made complete sense to you. Often you had thought that Silva was far more obsessed with you than anyone else realized, given how you were one of the very few who ever saw his true nature without the trained restraint and cold tone he almost always had. He was mentally unwell due to his upbringing and obsessed with you beyond reason, and he believed his actions were justified due to his familial heritage when it came to what they considered to be love.

Maha lived through it. Zeno's father died from it. Zeno lived through it. Silva will die from it.

An insane love that compelled them to do all they could to obtain and keep the object of their affections, even going as far as kidnapping and imprisonment. Silva's sickness is worse than theirs had been, and he is the only one that managed to keep his darling- you- alive. They understood and accepted the obsession he had with you and were content to keep you in Silva's arms as long as possible.

The door to your room opened with a loud creak before Kikyo made her way into the bathroom where you lay. It was clear she moved in a much more rushed pace when she saw you laying on the tile shivering, not even needing to be told to start checking you. She was being much more gentle and seemed to be far more expressive than usual as she examined you with great care.

"It seems to me you may be pregnant again."

You felt surprise run through your veins, but that surprise dulled down for a moment as you recounted what it was like when you were pregnant with Illumi. It certainly made sense, especially given all that happened up to that point.

"If she is pregnant again, I need to have a chat with Silva about keeping his damn hands off her child this time."

"Yes, sir. Shall I contact-"

"Tell him and I'll make you wish you never even considered it to begin with."

~~~~Three Months~~~~

You sat next to Zeno as you remained curled up nice and cozy in your heated blanket, sharing it with the elder who kept you company thus far in your pregnancy. Silva was expected to return any day now and you both knew the absolute fit he would throw the moment he learned what his father had been keeping from him. At least you had some peace and quiet without Silva around for a good bit, though part of you figured he would never accept another long job seeing as something important had been kept from him because of it.

Regardless, you were comfortable and starting to doze off when an unexpected question snapped you awake.

"That doctor of yours, she's the one who set you free after Silva took Illumi from you, isn't she?"

Your surprise must have been clear on your face as Zeno simply nodded, not taking his eyes away from the large television screen you two had been watching. He didn't seem particularly surprised at the answer to his question, nor did he seem all that angry either. It was almost like he knew the whole time but still wanted you to confirm it before he accepted it as truth.

"Please don't-"

"I won't tell Silva. I figured that was the case when you had somehow managed to get out. There would have been no way for you to do it on your own and the only person who had access to you outside of the family was her. To tell you the truth, part of me had actually hoped that you would manage to get away. To escape this place."

"... Why?"

"Because in many ways you remind me of my own wife. Often I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't caught her after she escaped. If I hadn't hurt her as Silva did to you... Perhaps she would still be here today."

You were surprised to hear all of this, having been too worried of upsetting Zeno to ask about the fate of his wife. It seemed she had been in the same boat you were currently in, but it had killed her where you had managed to survive. Before you could ask any more questions about the mysterious woman Zeno spoke so rarely of, the door swung open with a familiar level of force that made you jump slightly in response.

Silva was home.

There wasn't even enough time for you to welcome him back before you were being pulled up into his large arms, feeling his forehead against your shoulder as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. His large hands easily cradled your body close to his own all while his lips roamed your soft skin feverishly. You were about to try and call out for him to stop for a moment before an old voice beat you to it.

"You can't fuck her, Silva."

"I can do what I wish with my wife, when I wish."

"Not while she's pregnant you can't."

All movement halted the moment Silva registered his father's words, tensing his entire body as he slowly came to terms with what he had been told. Silva moved rather slowly as he positioned you to be cradled in one of his large arms, his hand coming up to rest against your stomach which had already begun to swell up. He almost seemed to be in a trance while he stayed statue-still, sorting out both his thoughts and emotions on the realization.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Silva's voice was a deep and angered growl in his chest, sending shivers down your spine due to your proximity to the very man who could quite easily snap at any moment. Zeno seemed mostly unfazed by the aggressive growl and instead took to observing his sharp nails as if he were bored with the situation he found himself in. You really had to admire the old man's lack of fear while facing off with Silva, who you feared more than you cared to admit.

"Because you would have abandoned your job and that would be a terrible reflection on the Zoldyck family."

"She's been pregnant this whole time and you didn't damn well tell me?"

"Watch your tone, Brat. She's alive, isn't she?"

"How long have you known?"

"Since the very day you left. That morning was when she first began showing signs."

You felt the tension in Silva's body rise to near extreme levels, letting out a sharp cry as his grasp around your soft body tightened past the point of comfort. Your cry made Silva calm immediately and loosen his grasp so he no longer held you quite as tight. That cry seemed to have caused a temporary lapse in Silva's anger as he treated you with extreme care and gently set you back on the couch, giving you a quick once-over to check for any injuries he may have caused.

"Never again."

You looked up in confusion at Silva's lowly growled words, wondering just what he was talking about.

"I'll never leave you for that long again, I swear it."

~~~Six Months~~~

You lay in complete relaxation under your warm blanket, spooning a wonderfully soft pillow all while you dozed lightly on the couch. If anything, this pregnancy was far more... Relaxed... Than your first one had been. Silva seemed to be taking extra care to show nothing but the utmost affection towards you and your child during this whole ordeal and honestly it was doing wonders for you.

You still had that internal need to shield your stomach and your baby from the man who had caused all of this in the first place. This meant his caution around you and extra positive attention towards your unborn infant was all your brain needed to feel more secure in your fragile state even though such a dangerous man lurked nearby at all times. Silva got you anything you could possibly want the moment you brought it up regardless of what time it was or what he happened to be doing at the time you mentioned it.

Whatever food you wanted was immediately made and sent straight to you. If you wanted more blankets you need only shiver before countless blankets were being piled on top of you. Any vague sign of discomfort and Silva was immediately doing everything in his power to ease your troubles in whatever way he could.

You even got to see your first-born Illumi more than a few times as the young boy's presence soothed you immensely as did his sweet curiosity. Illumi may show little to no emotion, but what little he did show he only did so while near you. You could only smile at the memory of Illumi's large and curious eyes staring up at you questioningly while he rest his cheek against your swollen stomach.

"But how did it get in there?"

"Eh... I'll tell you when you're older, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I promise to take care of any little siblings I get to have."

"That's very sweet of you, Illumi, thank you, my darling."

"Anything for you, Mama."

Despite the odd behavior and almost frightening temper of your first-born, you felt more at ease than you had given the fact that you knew your son would always be on your side regardless of what may happen. Even with his cold demeanor, Illumi showed true affection for you and seemed rather insistent that you have nothing to worry about when it came to the future of your unborn child. At least you felt as if Silva learned his lesson to not take your children away from you too early as well as learning just what a positive impact your son has on you.

You were taking a rather wonderful and deep nap after getting to spend some time with Illumi and had recently awoken, content to just lay still and let yourself slowly wake up. The slow and gentle sound of footsteps drew your attention from hazy thoughts into sharp clarity, listening for whomever they belonged to. A large hand against your stomach almost made you tense up in fear, but the gentle way it lay against your skin kept you relaxed and calm.

"If you kill her, I will come for you next."

Cold jolted down your spine as you heard the low growled words against your stomach. Silva didn't often talk to your stomach or the life within unless it was to appease some request you made or to simply cheer you up. You were well aware that Silva would not handle your untimely demise in the slightest given just how distraught he would be at any idea of you being taken away from him.

You needed to keep your baby safe. But you felt like it was a near impossible task due to Silva hovering around you almost constantly. He certainly didn't take your condition lightly and considering how he received the news months after you did, you knew he refused to spend even an hour away from your side.

To some degree you appreciated the knowledge that nothing from outside of the estate could hurt you, but you also feared the fact that your husband took his 'protector' role rather seriously and could easily cause harm to you. He always said he wouldn't and yet you felt like you knew better, especially after your first several years with him. His lowly growled out words chilled you to your core and you only hoped that he would be in a much better mood once the child was safely out of you.

~~~~ 9 1/2 Months ~~~~

When the hell was it going to end!? You head read of some pregnancies lasting up to as long as a year, but you were getting more than a little tired and Silva's patience was near nonexistent.

"That rat is NOT allowed to keep you for so long. It's coming out today."

"Silva, for once would you just let me do things my way and decide what to do?"

"I am done waiting for it to come out on its own."

"What exactly do you plan to do?"

"Get the doctors to induce labor or just cut it out of you already."

"Would you just-"

You went cold and silent as a familiar feeling washed over you, feeling a slowly growing and rolling contraction beginning to tug at your insides. The panic in your expression seemed to tell him that something had happened and he immediately dropped the subject in favor of tending to you. You were barely aware of what seemed to be going on around you as another wave of dizziness washed over you along with a rather piercing contraction.

Silva stayed with you through it all, refusing to leave even as you were rushed into the delivery room. There was not one moment that passed that Silva wasn't letting you grip as tightly as you needed to his hand, speaking in a low rumble that he only reserved for rare moments of sensitivity.

Everything was primarily a blur to you, passing by in seconds that lasted hours and hours that lasted seconds. So when you finally heard that cry and a faint congratulations, you were already blacking out far too quickly to respond as your entire body achingly tried to reduce the tension in your over worked muscles.

Silva's heart rate jacked through the roof as you went limp in his arms, clearly something having gone wrong during delivery. The honest desperation in not only his actions, but in his very being seemed to leech out any other emotion, his eyes never leaving your face all while the doctor and nurses scrambled around you to do what they could. Silva had dealt with being alone while growing up and never wanted to experience it again, the simple idea of losing you causing the most blood-thirsty aura to spill from him.

If the sheer intimidation wasn't enough to get the medical staff working desperately, that cold glare Silva had locked them with sure as hell would be. There were no questions as to the nature of the consequences they face should they fail, the presence of the dangerous man only serving to add more stress unto the delivery room. The infant had been taken away somewhere quiet and safe so the doctor and nurses could focus on your suddenly poor condition, knowing that their only chance of survival was ensuring you survived.

Silva refused to move or leave or even look away from you before the doctor was able to say confidently that you would live. Even after that time came and passed as you were brought back to a stable condition, Silva had no intention to ever leave your side.

Thanks to the fact his father kept your condition a secret on favor of Silva completing a job, Silva refused to be away from you for any longer than a few days from then on. No more month long jobs that required him to leave you for large chunks of time, now he was committed to staying by your side as often as he possibly could. He adored you and honestly figured heirs weren't worth the risk of you dying, resolving to remove any pregnancy that may occur before you became aware of it.

Two was already too many for him. He didn't want to share you with anyone, but at least the two boys will keep his father off his back about continuing the family line.

He could deal with the brats, so long as everyone knew you were his. He adored you and kidnapped you just so he could get close to you, there's no way he would give you up for anything in the world. You were his world, and ue would protect you until the bitter end.

[obeymeluv]

QUICK! KISS ME! [Bros x Reader]

A lead-up blurb before I go to bed.

School is killing me. This has been in the drafts far longer than I wanted.

No offense if your name is Bethany. It’s a name I picked at random.

The follow-up piece will have the kiss scenarios.

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Some of Asmo’s friends may have used you to get into a special makeup event, but it’s okay! They bought you a lip gloss as a thank you! The shade ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ was not what you thought it’d be

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Being one of the first humans in the Devildom could be uncomfortable and sometimes down-right dangerous! It also had its perks. To you, that meant being close with the Seven Lords of Hell (and Diavolo). To other lesser demons and classmates, you were kind of a ‘get out of jail’ free card.

Were they late to class? Oh, just helping the human out!

Caught sneaking in food or drink when they weren’t supposed to? It’s to split with the human, of course! They thought you’d love to try it!

Everyone was keen not to overuse it and you’d actually made good friends this way. It was starting to feel less like an excuse and more of a way to be included. You were the friendly, reliable human that had won hearts and saved some asses. As a thank you, one of your closer friends (a repeat offender for lateness), invited you out to an exclusive makeup release. She was a VIP member and had early access an hour before the store opened to the Devildom public. 

The fact that she chose you, a human, over some LITERAL century-old friends caused a bit of tension but she could care less. “I’ve seen them every day for over a hundred years. You get one year, and we’re going to make it awesome!” Bethany breezed through the store at a dizzying pace, picking through concealers and opening a box of mascara to look at the packaging. She moved at a pace only demons could manage; you thought you saw her by the nail polish display but when you looked again she was throwing sheet masks in her basket. Hooking her arm with yours, she picked up some foundation on the way back to the coveted display of lip glosses and lipsticks.

You weren’t totally versed in the differences between Devildom makeup and human world makeup. In all honesty, there didn’t seem to be a difference. Bethany swatched powdery cream lipsticks on her wrist and followed with ribbons of liquid lipstick. Every now and then she dotted them on your arm; she was adamant about finding a shade the both of you could wear as your thing.  

“This one,” she decided, waving the tube at you and booping your nose with it carefully. “This is our color!” she took you by the hand and joined the checkout line. She had two in her hand but refused to let you so much as hold one, wanting to pay for it first. It wasn’t technically breaking the purchase limit rule; if they tried to nag her she’d just say she was holding onto it so another demon didn’t bully you out of it. You didn’t know if it was her VIP status or the fact that her defense made sense, but you were able to check out without a problem.

A few sour faces and mean glares met you outside but Bethany ignored it all, eager to have a Devilgram-worthy celebratory snack break (snack victory? You know, since you got the makeup?) The plan was to eat, hold down a table at the nearby cafe while her other friends shopped, and have group makeovers (or try-ons) before calling it a day. That plan was interrupted three bites into a croissant sandwich when Lucifer summoned you back to the House of Lamentation. He’d gotten wind of all the girls you’d be with and didn’t feel totally comfortable letting you hang out with them,

Had Barbatos seen something? Did Lucifer feel spurned that you weren’t hanging out with the Seven Lords of the Devildom? He gave no answer, simply asking you to stay put while someone came to escort you back to the house. Bethany was put off by the turn of events but few people dared to complain about the Seven Lords due to their connections with Diavolo (she was no exception). “If we can’t get the full makeover, we’re getting the selfie!” she declared, deftly breaking the seal to her Sealed with a Kiss gloss and swiping it on with help from the front-facing camera on her D.D.D

You busied yourself with opening your tube. Before you could ask for her phone (since the camera was already open), she took the tube from you and tilted your chin up. She dabbed the center of your lips playfully before carefully tracing your lips with the color. The heat rose in your cheeks and she smirked. Being part succubus, she could draw energy from emotions like embarrassment and the feeling of being flattered. Her fingertips pulsed under your chin as she drew on that energy. 

Getting energy sucked could feel like a lot of things -- being light-headed, getting a rush of excitement, all prickly and tingly like your whole body was pins and needles. Whatever it was, it usually faded into drowsiness and kittenish contentment. She probably only touched your chin for seconds but the wash of coziness had you melting against your chair, your cheek cradled in her palm. 

Did she take the pic? What was happening? It felt like Asmodeus had materialized out of thin air, helping you stand and making small-talk with Bethany before pulling you away, out of her aura that was trying to suckle the vestiges of happy energy you offered.

“And what shade did you get on those pretty lips, hm?” the cotton fell out of your head and ears, allowing you to really hear Asmo now that the aura effects had worn off.

“Uh,” you fished around in your bag and looked at the packaging. “Sealed with a Kiss.”

Asmodeus stopped so abruptly it’d almost yanked you back to him. The two of you were barely tangled at the pinkies and now he’d completely laced your hands together. He held your hands captive, drawing them up in surprise and basically dragging you into his torso. You were forced to look up into glittering pink eyes and if you didn’t know any better, they looked a little panicked.

“How long ago did you apply it?”

“I don’t know.” you blinked helplessly at him. That energy suck thing had a way of making your brain tune out and turn to pudding. That aside, who knows how long Asmo stood there and talked to Bethany while you were being siphoned?! “Bethany applied it, not me.”

Asmo clicked his tongue, huffed, resigned himself to only holding one hand. and started scrolling on his D.D.D to find that selfie Bethany posted. You were being dragged along like a child as Asmo’s shoes clicked towards the House of Lamentation. It amazed you how well he could navigate his D.D.D with his long, painted nails. 

Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

Asmodeus tucked his D.D.D into his pants pocket, scooped you up in a way that terrified and amazed you (two people being supported by one set of heels?), and flew to the House of Lamentation. He didn’t always use his wings, as he preferred to decorate them and maintain them with oils, but the fact that he was flying made you nervous.

What had he found? What was the deal?

“Asmo--” you started nervously, the flapping of his wings nearly drowning you out as he pushed himself. Flying against the wind didn’t help. Your hair was a mess and the wind was in your face; the Devildom was always a little chilly but now it was enough to make your face tingly.

“She gave you enchanted makeup. There is a reason humans don’t use enchanted makeup.” Asmo’s pretty brows furrowed as he cut a hard angle and glided over a portion of the square. The tell-tale thicket of trees that lined the winding path back to the House of Lamentation were on the edge of the horizon.

“What’s going to happen?” should you ask that? Did you really want to know?

“You’ll feel something in your lips--some people felt tingling, some people felt pulsing, it can be anything, I think--and then they’ll seal shut.”

“SHUT?!” you yelped. It was enough to make Asmo wince. The startle carried over to his wings; they shuddered and locked; the two of you dropped for a heartbeat or two before he corrected himself.

“If I can’t get some makeup remover on it first.” Asmo panted, tucking his wings in and preparing for a quick descent. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought to teleport first--the panic? Trying to one-up Bethany by walking home and being extra cute with hand-holding?--but a quick touch down could roll into a simple skip teleportation and everything should work out!

“But my lips are already tingly!”

“Ugh, Bethany! I can’t believe you! I mean, I can because it’s you, but really, Bethany?”

“Asmo, focus!” you’d already skipped several feet ahead, clearing the front yard in two teleports. The third put you in the foyer. “I don’t want my lips to seal shut!”

The House of Lamentation was huge but when the occupants had supernatural hearing, that exclamation turned heads. 

“What’s this about your lips sealing shut?” Lucifer appeared at the top of his stairs, his head already shaking.

“DID YOU MAKE A PACT WITH A WITCH?!” Mammon screamed down the hall, clearly not far behind.

Asmo scoffed, lowering his D.D.D with a pout. He was halfway up the main stairs, fingers working at lightning speed. “It’s the lip color!” he explained, stomping his foot. Noisy people were just so annoying! If everyone was talking he couldn’t explain! How rude! 

“All this over some makeup?” skeptical Satan peered over the banister, book and arm casually propped up on it.

“If two people apply the color and kiss, they’re locked in a makeout session until it dries down. When one person applies the lip color, they can use it like a cheat sheet to see who secretly wants to kiss them,” his words tapered out from authoritatively informed to quiet and shy. “It’s from their ‘Liquid Love’ collection.” he muttered into the stunned silence of the room.

You were trying to open your lips and ask why. The magic had already taken hold. Asmodeus could see you trying to move your lips and strain your chin. Luckily, demons could read minds. “It’s because Bethany is stupid.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Ambitious, but stupid.”

“Please explain, Asmo.” even when using the dear nickname Lucifer couldn’t hide the demand. His demon aura was creeping up his body and slowly becoming jagged and suffocating.

“Bethany has had a HUGE crush on our little human here, and wanted to seal it with a kiss, so to speak.” Asmo’s cheeks got pinker and pinker as he explained. Mostly because he was mad he didn’t think about it. His heart did something funny at the thought of you kissing someone else. Lucifer also looked like he wanted to murder someone about now, and Asmo had to remind himself that he was being looked through, not looked at.   

“Just grab a napkin and wipe it off.” Mammon shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Asmodeus shook his head angrily. “It’s too late now. We need to find someone for them to kiss! Someone’s lips will break the seal on theirs...that’s kind of the point of the enchantment.”

“So they just pick someone to kiss?” Levi’s face was turning tomato red. Would it be him?! It would at least be one of them, right? What if your person wasn’t in the House of Lamentation and you NEVER SPOKE AGAIN?!

“Sort of.” Asmo patted your shoulders with his gentle, smooth hands. He started to rub them like he was trying to warm you up. Partly in encouragement and partly to get your attention because he could feel your brain spiraling down into panic. “They basically follow their mouth.”

“So that lip color is like a crush detector?” Satan abandoned his book at the top of the stairs and was now perusing articles on his D.D.D as he sauntered down the steps. It sounded like he’d found the one that sent Asmo flying to the House of Lamentation.

“Basically.” Asmo sighed. It was the stupidest way to confess to someone, he thought. Demon to demon, it was fine. Demon to human?! NO! The whole thing gave him a headache. The fact that Bethany thought she could just steal your little lips and be greedy with them was the biggest annoyance of it all.

“So,” Satan’s green eyes cut sharply from his phone to you. The corner of his lips curled up in a smart little smirk. He knew it was wrong to find your predicament so funny, but this was a very human thing to get mixed up in. “Who do your lips want? Who do you feel yourself being drawn to?”

[lunar-wandering]

“one does not simply go clothes shopping”

so like, a week ago, @smallpwbbles drew this art of Wukong in a bathrobe and idk, something something ‘comedy brain activated’ or something like that, so here’s this fic-

-

It was a normal morning on the ship.

"Uh, where did you get that bathrobe?" Tang asked, and Wukong paused.

It had been a normal morning on the ship.

"...A closet." He eventually replied.

"Which closet?" Tang asked.

"...Would you believe me if I said it was my own?"

"No I don't think I would." Tang said, crossing his arms as Wukong continued to look more nervous by the second. "Let me change my question, why are you wearing my bathrobe?"

"Uh....."

-

An hour later, and somehow everyone was gathered in Wukong's room of the ship. Wukong himself, was currently trying to keep the others from opening the door to his closet, by physically leaning against it, arms spread out as though he was trying to hide the door with his body (very ineffectively, one might add).

He was still wearing Tang's bathrobe.

"C'mon guys, we don't have to do this." He said, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I assure you, there's nothing to see here- wh- HEY-"

He cut himself off with a yelp, as Sandy easily lifted him off the ground, pinning his arms to his torso so that he couldn't claw his way out of the other's grip. MK stepped around him, grabbing hold of the closet door's handle.

"Sorry, Monkey King." He said, "But the amount of protesting you've done this past hour- which, by the way, woke me up- means I kinda have to do this."

"My own successor, betraying me, I can't believe it-" Wukong dramatically wailed, kicking his legs as he tried to get out of Sandy's grip. This did nothing to stop MK, who rolled his eyes at his mentor's dramatics and swung the closet door open.

The first thing everyone noticed was Wukong's usual outfit, hung from a clothing hanger and horribly torn, damaged in a way that made it practically unwearable. (And honestly, why was he still even keeping it?)

The second thing everyone noticed was their own clothes.

"...When did you take this?" Mei asked, taking one of her jackets and holding it out to inspect it. "I don't think I ever saw you even get close to my room....."

Wukong didn't answer, whistling innocently.

Pigsy threw a spoon at him.

"Ow!" Wukong yelped as the spoon bounced off the back of his head, bouncing off and hitting the wall beside him, before ricocheting and hitting him in the forehead as well. He hissed in pain, for a moment, cringing.

"Answer the question, Monkey King." Pigsy said, crossing his arms with absolutely no guilt in his eyes, promising that spoon would not be the last should Wukong keep refusing to answer.

"I took it during the night okay?!" Wukong admitted, refusing to look the others in the eyes. "You guys should really get better locks on your doors, it was far too easy to sneak in-"

"Wait, so you rummaging through my closet in the middle of the night wasn't a dream?" MK asked.

"You saw him do this and you didn't say anything?" Tang said, incredulous.

"To be fair, I did knock him back out." Wukong said, quietly, under his breath.

"Like I said, I assumed it was a dre- wait you what?!" Clearly, Wukong had not said that as quietly as he hoped he had, as MK spun around to stare at him. "You knocked me out??"

"I admit it was not my best move." Wukong said, shrugging the best he could while still trapped in Sandy's grip. "But it was like, 3 AM and I panicked okay? You were fine anyways so-"

"Is that why you were so overly nice to me the other day? You were trying to make up for knocking me out??" MK asked, Wukong growing more sheepish with every word that left his successor's mouth.

"...Maybe?"

"Okay that's it." Mei said, making the others jump as she slammed the closet door shut. "We're going to take you clothes shopping."

"What?! No-" Wukong started-

"You don't get a say in this, Mr. Clothes Thief." Mei deadpanned.

-

Wukong stood in front of the clothing store, wearing a hoodie that was about two sizes too big for him.

(He wasn't entirely sure who he had stole it from, at some point the pile of clothes had started blending together until he couldn't tell what was from who, which would've eventually been a problem when he'd return all the stuff he'd stolen without the others noticing.

Well. That is, it would've been a problem if he had planned to give it back...).

Mei and MK stood beside him, glancing between him and the store.

"...Well?" MK asked, "Aren't you going to go in?"

"...No, actually, I think maybe I'll just keep wearing my torn up clothes-" Wukong started, moving to turn around, only for Mei and MK to loop their arms around his, preventing him from leaving.

"C'mon Monkey King, what's the big deal?" Mei asked, "It's just shopping for some new clothes, it isn't like, torture or something."

"But it's- it's just-" Wukong started, before groaning in frustration and making a series of noises that were distinctly...monkey-like. Mei looked over to MK with an expression of confusion, to which MK responded with a shrug and a gesture that clearly meant 'IDK, he just does this sometimes'.

"Look, Monkey King, you don't exactly have much of a choice here." MK said, "You can't just keep stealing our clothes, and you are definitely not going to keep wearing your torn up outfit."

"....Fine." Wukong said, slouching a little. "One hour, but after that I'm leaving, whether or not we've paid for anything."

"Monkey King you can't upgrade from casual thievery to actual thievery-"

-

"Hey, what do you think of this shirt?" Mei asked, holding up a loose fitting shirt for Wukong to inspect. Wukong looked it over, reaching out and feeling the edge of the shirt, before looking away with a non-committal shrug.

"...Fabric's nice, I guess." He mumbled, and Mei looked between him and the shirt, before placing it into the basket along with a few other shirts and pairs of pants. Most of it was soft clothing, hoodies and sweatpants, which Mei had honestly found kinda surprising, she'd thought the Monkey King would've wanted something more formal.

But then again, when she'd felt his torn up outfit, the fabric had been soft, and most of the things he'd stolen from her and the others had been soft as well, so maybe there was more of a texture thing going on here than she realized.

"I'm back!" MK said, appearing from around a rack of clothes, holding a pair of peach-patterned pyjama's. "It took forever to find a pair of these in your size, but I finally did it!"

"Great! Can we go now?" Wukong asked, perking up a little at the prospect of leaving. Mei and MK both glanced at the fairly small pile of clothes they'd gathered, and then back at Wukong's face. He looked antsy, like if he spent another minute in this store he'd start loosing it.

Neither of them particularly wanted to deal with a boredom-crazed Monkey King.

"Sure." Mei agreed, and Wukong almost immediately twirled around, picking up the basket they'd been setting clothes in and moving to go to the checkout-

And bumping into a rack of clothes, sending it crashing to the ground.

-

An hour later found the three of them leaping onto the ship, ignoring the others confusion as they ran inside and into Wukong's room, slamming the door shut behind them. Mei threw the clothes basket onto the bed, and the three of them stood there for a moment, hunched over, breathing heavily.

"...Okay." Wukong started, once he'd caught his breath. "Just to make sure we're all on the same page here. We're never going back to that store again, right?"

"Agreed." MK and Mei said, in sync, before sliding down and onto the floor, tired. Wukong, after a moment of hesitation, slid down to lay on the floor with them.

It was official, Wukong hated going clothes shopping.

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 2

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Some dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully this takes place in a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, loss of virginity, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

Your stomach clenched as now you knew what was going to happen next. You’d naively thought that perhaps he would allow you to sleep for the rest of the night. But judging by the predatory look on his face, that was not to be.

You took another sip of your water, you were having a little trouble swallowing as your throat felt raw from your earlier activity. He had taken to pacing again. He glanced over at you, stopping mid-stride.

“Hurry up!” he bit out.

You tried to take bigger gulps of the water, but started coughing. His face showed angry impatience. “What’s wrong with you?”

You tried not to whine as you said, “My throat is very sore, moi soverennyi.”

His face softened a little. “Very well, but don’t take all night. I need to have you. Now.”

Again, your stomach coiled in on itself. Yes, your throat was sore, but you were absolutely trying to stall.

Finally, the glass was empty, and you couldn’t put this off any longer. You shimmied back onto the bed, and lay down with your head on the soft pillows. You tried to appear calm, but underneath you were a seething ocean of nerves. Your stomach was heaving, your heart was pounding, your breathing was ragged.

“At last!” He lazily applauded you, the sound of his clapping hands ratcheting up your nerves even more. He moved to the lamps in the room and dimmed them.

He approached the bed, swirling open his Kefta as he reached you. You closed your eyes, and felt the mattress dip as first he knelt on it, then quickly moved astride you. “Open your eyes, girl!” he demanded, and you forced your eyelids to lift, chewing on your lip and meeting the slate-coloured stare looking down at you.

Once more, he undid his fly and laid aside his trousers and underwear. His cock was ramrod stiff again, and even although this was the second time you’d seen it in this state, you drew in a large breath. It just looked so huge. He was going to damage you, you were sure of it. He took in your wide-eyed, anxious look at his cock, and laughed out loud.

“You’re obviously nervous about this,” gesturing at his erect length, “...so I’m not going to prolong things.” He started moving closer to you, and you shrank back into the pillows. He laughed again. “Now come on, girl! The last thing I need is for you to pass out when I enter you,” he mocked. “Normally there is some enjoyment to be had before the deed, but you are so full of nerves that I’m going to take you now.... and I mean immediately. We can explore all the other options later.”

This did absolutely nothing to calm you down.

You realised that he was not going to get undressed, he was even still wearing his riding boots. You fleetingly wondered if he wasn’t prepared to let himself be the least bit vulnerable in front of you, while you were left to carry the anxiety and stress of losing your virginity to him all on your own. It didn’t seem fair. He was in fact being very businesslike about taking it, but he still had that ferocious gleam in his eyes, so perhaps he wasn’t as circumspect about it as he appeared.

He suddenly lunged at you, grabbing the hem of your robe with both hands and ripping it in two, catching you by surprise and leaving you gasping in fear. He pulled your shoulders up off the bed and pushed the robe down over them. He stilled for a few seconds, staring hungrily at your breasts, before pulling the robe out from under you and tossing it to the floor.

You belatedly tried to shield your breasts from his gaze with your hands, but he shook his head. “No! You don’t hide anything from me, you understand?” He pulled your hands away, and you let your arms fall limply onto the mattress. “Answer me!” he barked. “I understand, moi soverennyi,” you said feebly.

His large hands descended on your breasts, fingers roughly grasping at them for a few seconds before he leant over you, sucking and biting one of your nipples. He grabbed the other one and rolled it, hard, between his finger and thumb. You yelped, surprised at the arousal you felt.

Moving to your linen underwear, it was also ripped off you. Your mind wondered what on earth you’d wear tomorrow. His head dipped, and you almost screamed out loud when you felt his tongue between your legs. You tightly clenched your thighs together, shutting him out.

He sat up very suddenly and you thought for a second that he might slap you, but he merely said, “Open your legs again for me, little dove.” You whimpered but did as he asked. His head returned between your thighs, that tongue of his delving right into your core. You noticed that he was paying special attention to one particular part of your anatomy and every time his tongue travelled over it, a shock of pleasure shot through you.

After a few moments, he sat back on his knees, stroking his cock and spreading his precum over it as he did so. You followed his every move, mesmerised and afraid.

He leant towards you, saying in a low voice, “You’re starting to get wet. Do you feel that?” He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to what felt like a furnace heating up between your legs. You felt the wetness there. He continued, “The wetter you are, the easier it is for both of us, understand?” You nodded, like a schoolgirl with her teacher.

Staring intensely at you, he said, “You understand that my cock’s going to be completely inside you like before, just in a different location this time?” “Yes,” you replied. “It’s going to be there the whole time. I won’t be pulling out, even if you have pain. You just need to take it, do you hear? No refusing or trying to get away. And - listen to me, this is very important - there is one thing I require above all else. Are you listening?”

Again you nodded, “I’m listening, moi soverennyi.”

“I need you to really like taking it rough, hard and fast.” Your eyes dropped, that sounded too painful for your liking. He forced your chin up until your eyes met again, “And the best way for you to get used to it, is to have it that way your first time. This simply means that you won’t know any differently. So that’s how this is going to happen, and there will be no argument from you. You agree to obey?”

Your breathing hitched, you felt even more nervous than before if that was possible. Nevertheless you nodded, acquiescing in what was to be your fate. You couldn’t afford to displease this man.

He shrugged, “It’s just a matter of logistics, I just don’t have time for niceties. So I need you to be ready for me whenever I want to fuck you.”

He’d been distracting you by talking to you. Before he’d even finished speaking, you felt his tip between your legs and he immediately began sinking into you. You gasped and started whimpering, but he kept pushing, pushing, pushing into you without respite. You were so tense that he wasn’t making too much headway.

You heard an exasperated sigh, felt hands on your shoulders and then you were being shaken back and forward, like a naughty child. “Relax! You need to stop resisting me.” He sounded angry, impatient. You nodded, anxiously trying to comply. The feeling of pressure as he started pushing into you began once again.

You felt it all - every inch - as he pushed very roughly right inside you. As he did, you felt a very sharp pain in your abdomen and started to cry out, but it was quickly muffled by one of his hands pressing over your nose and mouth. He again thrust fully inside you, and the pain spiked once more. Thankfully it then began to subside, which was just as well as he’d immediately begun to roughly thrust into you at a ferocious pace. His hand was still blocking your gasps and cries, and tears were once again running down your face. The fingers of his other hand were biting into the flesh over your hip. Rutting into you, he was also gasping and groaning but managed to keep the volume down.

You felt as if he was never going to stop. He just kept on and on, and eventually you didn’t even have the energy to scream and cry any longer. Then you felt him tense up, his thrusts became jerky, and you felt the same rush of warmth inside your body as you’d felt in your throat earlier on.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He pulled out of you, sitting beside you and reaching across to grab the damp washcloth from the bedside table. He quickly ran it around and over his cock and then tucked himself back into his trousers. Then he ran the washcloth over your lower body and legs, and you saw some streaks of blood on the cloth. I was right, you thought, he did damage me. He also saw the blood, and you saw a small smile appear on his lips. He began speaking to you as he continued to cleanse you, the grey eyes regarding you, his face serious.

“Good, very good - I’m pleased with you. You took my cock well, and apart from at the very start, didn’t fight it. It’s the best plan of action for you, little dove. Remember that. Never resist, just take it inside you without question when I want to fuck you, and things will go well between us.”

You nodded, but you were also annoyed at yourself. You’d felt pleased when he praised you. This guy had just taken your virginity - yes you’d agreed but not willingly - but now you were also happy about it? Your conflicted feelings really confused you.

Pouring another glass of water, he encouraged you to sit up and drink it. You struggled further up the bed and sat against the pillows, wiping the last traces of tears from your face as you did so.

You spotted your destroyed robe on the floor next to the bed, and leant down to retrieve it. It was promptly grabbed out of your hand and tossed to the far side of the room. He frowned over at you, “Now that I’ve seen you naked, that’s how I want you to be whenever we’re together.” You hung your head, nodding your understanding.

His eyes raked over your body, unashamedly staring at every inch of you. You blushed furiously; firstly, you weren’t used to anyone seeing you naked and secondly, you definitely weren’t used to anyone staring at you for so long while you were naked. Unconsciously your hands came up to cover your breasts and as before, he leant forward and pulled them away so that your breasts were visible to him again.

“No! What did I tell you??!!”

Your eyes filled again, and you whispered, “Not to cover myself, moi soverennyi.”

You picked up the glass of water and took a sip. As you did so, his hand shot out and grabbed one of your breasts, pinching the nipple as he did so. You jumped in shock, spilling your water down your chin and onto your chest. His thumb delved into the rivulet of water, rubbing the water across both of your breasts. Your nipples stiffened as the cold water hit them, and he bent down and licked the water off them and your breasts.

He sat back up, leaning forward and running his tongue over your wet chin and lips. “Put the glass down, now.” You hurried to do so, nearly missing the bedside table in your haste. “You need to get used to me touching you, woman. You’re mine to touch, wherever and whenever I want to. That’s how it is now. Understand?”

You nodded, eyes cast down. As if to further prove what he’d just said, he very deliberately placed his hands on your breasts and massaged them, for what felt like long minutes. He licked and bit your nipples while you squirmed, yelping at each touch. Suddenly his face was right in front of yours, his icy eyes staring intensely into yours.

He moved one hand downwards, and a long finger slid into you intrusively. You shot backwards, but he pulled you forward again with the hand that had remained on your breast. It returned there, and he continued roughly kneading at it, making you wince in pain. The finger inside you was joined by another one, and he thrust them abruptly in and out of you.

Suddenly his mouth was on yours, and you felt his tongue prodding at your closed lips. He drew back, “Open!” you heard, before his mouth was once again on yours. You parted your lips and his tongue slid past them into your mouth, invading it totally and moving over your own tongue.

This, combined with what his hands and fingers were busy doing, began to make you feel as if a tsunami was approaching you. You felt his thumb at your opening, rubbing, rubbing at you and suddenly that tsunami broke over you, and you screamed into his mouth, your body shuddering. He sat back, a triumphant look and a devilish smirk on his face. Your head dropped back onto the pillows, you were panting as if you’d just run a kilometre.

“That, my dear little dove, was your first orgasm. In other words, a sexual climax. Did you enjoy it?” he said in a languid tone. You looked at him, blushing deeply. There was no use lying, he could see that you did, so you nodded. “What do you say to me, hmm?” You were puzzled, “I don’t know.” He shook his head, “No manners. You thank me.” Now you understood. ���Every time I give you an orgasm, you need to thank me.” “Thank you, moi soverennyi.”

A thought struck you. “Why did you call me ‘woman’ earlier? You always called me ‘girl’ before?”

“I’ve taken your virginity, and now you’re a woman, no longer a girl. But you have to learn how to behave like one. None of this shyness, jumpiness, hiding yourself. You have a beautiful, sensuous body which I will touch when I want to, and I will also have sex with you when I want to. I hope I don’t have to keep repeating this. Your duty is to submit to me always, it’s what you’ve agreed to.”

Your heart sank. He’d said ‘always’. You’d thought that maybe he’d keep you for a couple of weeks and then release you from your arrangement, and life would go back to normal.

You tried your damndest not to sigh as you said, “Yes, I did agree to that, moi soverennyi.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He’d lain next to you in the bed, on top of the covers while you’d sneaked under them, a chill raising goosebumps on your naked body. There was no protest from him, for which you were grateful. Your eyes drooped, you were emotionally and physically drained. You slept.

A hand was shaking your shoulder. Your eyes flew open, and for a split second you were totally disorientated. It was still dark outside. Then you saw his grey eyes staring into yours, and it all came flooding back. To put it bluntly, you were The Darkling’s new concubine.

You realised that he was now also under the covers, and with a shock, you saw bare muscled shoulders. Which meant that he was in bed with you, also naked. He’d waited until you’d fallen asleep before undressing, you thought. You tried to subtly move further away from him, but his arm snaked around your waist and dragged you against him.

“Moi soverennyi... why have you woken me?”

“Why do you think, little dove?”

You realised that this was to be your life from now on.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[4aloysius-porteu]

i really wish i hated you || tsukishima kei

masterlist | 1 | 2 | chapter 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x f! reader

sypnosis: It was an accident that (Y/N) met a certain tall, blonde male; a memory she isn't fond of remembering, but it is where it all started. And ever since, she magically makes her to his path. The image of the bespectacled man dwelled in her mind more than she thought. Tsukishima pushed away his softer emotions and denied their existence, or at least that's what he told himself. But then, he couldn't believe that this girl he labeled as a clumsy, unlucky creature who smashed his glasses is slowly bringing these strange emotions back to him. She might be irritating and dumb sometimes, but he couldn't get himself to completely hate her. Either that destiny was stupid, or he was blessed or cursed.

genre: fanfiction, fluff

wc: 2.6k

She has met the tall, blonde, and bespectacled male yet again.

"Oh, the midget stalker is here."

"You again?! Seriously, I think it's you who's following me!"

"Hah, what do I get from following an extremely short person like you?" He said, borrowing her words from yesterday.

(Y/N)'s eyebrows creased further in irritation. "Why do you keep mentioning my height?!"

"It was you who started it. Anyways, can you shut up? Do you know that you're in a library?"

She didn't retort back and simply sat on the chair with her arms crossed. It was a fine day then —BOOM— this giant decided to appear out of nowhere. She was trying to forget this person who's associated with some of her embarrassing moments but those just got smashed back to her mind. (Y/N) sighed and pulled a book at the bottom of the stack to start reading, but noticed that the blondie is still standing near the edge of the table, hesitating to sit down while glancing somewhere and back to her.

"What?" (Y/N) frowned.

"Why am I unnecessarily stuck with you on this table?" He sighed, pulling out the chair.

"Because all of the tables here are taken? If you're worried about your glasses being knocked off, don't worry, I won't do anything reckless anymore."

"That's a nice reassurance," He settled down and brought out his studying materials.

Both of them shared the table in the crowded library. Ignoring the people, between them was a silent atmosphere. No one was talking as they both minded their own studies; he was reading quietly and turning pages of a huge book while (Y/N) wrote key points from the printed work and highlighting her notes. Sometimes, the other would leave to return books to their shelves and came back with new stacks. This went on for a few hours until her pen ran out of ink. She scribbled at the back of her notebook in hopes that the ink just got stuck, to no avail. She sighed, resting her head on the notebook. But she really needed to take down notes for her upcoming entrance exam.

"Hey." (Y/N) reluctantly said.

The blonde male looked at her, confirming if he's being called, "What?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your business but... do you have a spare pen?"

He stared at her with a straight face and placed his chin on the top of his knuckles, implying his refusal to lend one.

(Y/N)'s mentally gritted her teeth. I'm just going to borrow a pen and he's making it hard for me?!

Swallowing her pride, she said, "Look, I need to finish my notes. I'll return it to you right away when I'm done. I promise. Please?"

He scoffed as brought out a pen, "An inkless pen is all it takes for you to become a less lively puppy? You better keep your promise."

A puppy?! "You didn't need to compare me to a puppy but, thanks."

She continued her work but her focus was a bit shaken. This happens whenever she's interrupted or took a break away from writing. Soon, her focus vanished and boredom took over. She tried to read a book to review ideas but her brain won't cooperate. She groaned, her head and arms fell to the table again. The blonde saw but chose to ignore her.

She closed her eyes for a second, however, her gaze fell to the blank paper in front of her face. Her hands are itching to do something other than reviewing and writing, so she put down the pen she borrowed and took a pencil out of her pocket. She placed a pile of books near her notebook so that the male won't notice what she's doing. There, she started to sketch the base of the figure.

She would observe the four-eyed guy who's busy reading some sort of article while taking notes. He has a calm expression on his face rather than an irritated scowl or a mocking grin he usually has. He wears a long blazer and probably a long-sleeved shirt inside. His blonde hair is short yet the edges are a bit curly and his upper eyelashes are prominently long. This was the first time she stared at the jerk's face who she kept bumping into random places that irked the hell out of her, but for some reason, she felt that she had seen this person before the accident in the park, albeit she doesn't know where. (Y/N) came to a conclusion; he was a little good-looking.

The girl looked back to her drawing and shook her head at her own ideas. I can't believe I actually thought that this guy is handsome. How can such a mean creature be blessed with such looks?! Ugh, don't mind, (Y/N). I'm only drawing him because he seems like a great canvas subject, it's not like I haven't done this to other people before...

She went on drawing and drew details to the sketch similar to the boy in front of her. To make the drawing more accurate, she stole small glances at him. She kept things low key because it'll be another embarrassing event if he found out what she's doing. She made the lines smoother in one swift move. The hair and clothes' folds are already well-drawn while she focuses on the detail of his eyes and glasses. She was about to shade when the male finally caught her.

"What is it?" He questioned, closing his book with a low voice and creased eyebrows.

(Y/N) froze on the spot. As much as she doesn't like it, she maintained eye contact with him, thinking of the best alibi that he couldn't argue with. Then, she remembered that she doesn't know his name.

"Uhm... nothing. I was just wondering if you have a name." While talking, her finger subtly moved to grab the nearest object it could get to cover her drawing.

"I have, but why would I mention it to you?" He cooly replied.

"It's alright. I'm not asking you to. Unless you want to be referred to as he/him or the tall, blonde glasses guy all the time?" (Y/N) countered.

He silently turned a page before answering, "Well, it's not like we'll meet every day."

"Oh," was her only reply. Looks like he will stay a nameless guy in her head for a long time. She was about to get back to her business when he spoke.

"Tsukishima Kei."

(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "I'm not going to repeat it." He added.

She smiled, having clearly heard it right away. "Can you tell me how it is written?"

He looked at her to check for ill intentions but found nothing in her eyes. He hesitantly wrote the characters of his name on a piece of paper.

"I'm (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you again, Tsukishima-san." She'd like to initiate a handshake for peacemaking, but she knows how he'd only decline it. She wrote her name for him to see as well.

Tsukishima Kei. She repeated in her mind. What a nice name.

With a notebook covering the upper portion of the paper where she had drawn his portrait, she wrote his name at the bottom. She proceeded to the shading and background features. Backgrounds are one of the things she hates in art because it takes too long to draw one compared to the subject itself. Luckily it's only a sketch so she won't have to suffer. Although she doesn't know if Tsukishima had seen whatever she's doing so she's still cautious. She peered at him for the nth time so she could distract his peripheral vision. Maybe to test the social initiative skills she hasn't used for a long time too.

"Uhh, can I ask something?" She started.

"Hm?" He responded without taking his eyes off the page.

"What school are you from?"

"Amemaru Middle School."

(Y/N) hummed, thinking of another question, "Then, what school are you enrolling to? It must be an upper class one since you had to read those large books and all."

"Not really," Tsukishima closed the book, "I plan to go to Karasuno High School. They may not have a difficult entrance exam, but these readings are for decent grades and some stock knowledge."

"Decent grades, huh... you look like you could achieve more though. I'm pretty sure you'll ace it." She answered, "I was from Kitagawa Dai Ichi. I'm taking an exam in Shiratorizawa soon."

"You're going to that high-class academy? I see, I failed to notice that because you don't look like one. Have fun clashing with other elites there."

"Elites? What are you talking about, you still believe there's such a hierarchy?" (Y/N) chuckled.

"There is though. A gap between them and mere humans in terms of skills and power."

"In the end, they're still humans though. Be it numbers, hard work, or some unique strategy, those 'mere humans' you say will always struggle to step on equal levels with those on the highest rank."

Tsukishima only hummed and stared down at her, "Perhaps I was wrong on assuming you're an elite. You're clearly not."

"Are you underestimating me?" She challenged.

"No, I was just saying. Can I ask something though?"

"What?"

"Why are you suddenly talkative?"

She was caught off guard but tried not to stutter, "Me? Talkative? I'm always like this."

"Really?" He raised his brows, totally not buying it.

"Ugh, fine! I'm tired of studying!" She sighed, "I was scribbling some doodles on my notebook because I'm bored so I thought it wouldn't hurt to talk to Mr. Beanpole in front of me. Forgive me and my awkward social skills."

"Your social skills are not bad. I'm just thankful you aren't using the precious ink of my pen for drawing." He said, stacking the books he used.

She gasped, panicked inside, "You aren't looking at my drawing, are you?"

He got up to return the books,"Don't worry, it's none of my business."

She exhaled in relief, spared from another memory of embarrassment. Her eyes followed his walking figure and watched his movements. She looked at her drawing to compare and used her fingers to define lighting. When Tsukishima got back and placed new reviewers on the table, (Y/N) asked him once more.

"Do you ever get tired of studying?"

"Sometimes I take a break, but I can only do that if I have finished everything."

"What a diligent student you are."

"I hardly see any benefit in being dumb and slacking off all the time."

"Eh, I hardly see any benefit in studying Algebra and Calculus. I have a lot of questions. Do you use derivatives in counting money or salary? Do you use trigonometry in dividing pizzas or corn chips? Why do I need to find the limit of a function if numbers are infinite? Why do I need to get the formula of a certain point in each line or curve I draw on the graphing paper? What is the correct answer for?" (Y/N) complained.

Tsukishima looked at her blankly, doubting her chances of passing the Shiratorizawa's board exam. "I couldn't argue with that, I'd rather read a book composed of words than formulas, but you don't have a choice. Although, if you plan to be an engineer or something, that'll be a different perspective."

"No, thanks, I won't eat math books for breakfast. Other subjects are interesting enough to keep me awake in class, but numbers don't really entertain me."

"Then, what do you do?" He asked, writing on his notes.

"Not much. I just draw, paint, listen to music, and watch anime."

He let out an amused hum, "How about you? What do you do other than to study?" (Y/N) asked.

"I play volleyball, listen to music, and read narrative books."

"Volleyball? So that's what your height is for! I thought it's just for cleaning and reaching high places."

"That's rude."

"If I am, what do you call yourself? Besides, I don't want to make wrong assumptions."

"You just did."

"...right. I'm sorry."

The sense of familiarity took over (Y/N)'s brain, telling her that she definitely had met this Tsukishima guy before. Her face scrunched a little, trying to search her memories and connect the dots. Her eyes found his face again.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" His eyes narrowed, his annoyance towards the girl slowly rising.

"I HAD met you somewhere... before that accident, where did I see you?"

He was about to say something when (Y/N) stopped him, "Shh, I'm thinking."

He crossed his arms and frowned at her. Volleyball, Amemaru MS... She was about to say it but Tsukishima spoke first.

"Were you one of the audience who watched the middle school volleyball inter-high a year ago?"

"I was! Wait, you remember?"

"That was the only place where I could find someone from Kitagawa Dai Ichi." He confirmed.

"Correct. I was a part of the school paper where I was assigned in the sports category. I took a picture of you when my senior was interviewing you! You were the tallest middle blocker in the games! How could I forget that! So that's why whenever you irk me, it was familiar!"

"How am I annoying you? Aren't you the one who kept on talking right now?"

"I've figured out that there's no kind bone in you. And the way you keep on stuffing the spikes from the opposite team. It was never-ending that they didn't have a chance to score properly." She pouted.

"What do you expect from a middle blocker? It was my job to block spikes."

"You could've gone easy on them."

"The game would lose it's sense if that's the case."

"Fine. You're not wrong." Their conversation was cut short after she ceased talking. At least she found out where she first met Tsukishima. She finished the portrait sketch. Grinning, she believed that she captured his features accurately in her drawing. She'd like to hold it near him and compare to make sure though. Satisfied with her work, she went back on turning pages.

"So, you've finally decided to continue to study?" Tsukishima prodded.

She smiled, "I guess. Thank you for talking to me. That was a great stop."

Both of them worked quietly, but now, the irritation they felt towards each other lessened. After some time, a person in the speaker announced that the library will be closing before 6 pm. Tsukishima returned all the books he borrowed and packed his things.

"You're going home?"

"I don't want to come home late. You aren't finished with your notes yet?"

"Yeah, maybe I'll leave five minutes before six."

"Alright. I'll get going now." He swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Hey, wait! Your pen!" (Y/N) abruptly remembered seconds after.

"I don't need it anymore. It was useful, apart from its close on running out of ink."

"But it's yours and you told me to keep my promise!"

"Whatever. Keep it or throw it." He walked out and wore his headphones, having no intention to listen to anyone.

She sighed and checked the ink. More than half of it is gone, but she can use it again if she wishes. (Y/N) placed her fist to her cheek while writing.

Random Tsukishima Kei facts:

In the second prototype chapter (unserialized, one shot, the first idea of the author on how haikyuu will go) Tsukishima was a second-year, which was changed in the serialized version where he's a first-year. His initial height in the prototype chapter is 184cm, a little shorter than his official height (190.1cm). In an extra sketch, Furudate commented, "Tsukki and Tanaka being in the same year would spell chaos!

©4aloysius.porteu.2021. please do not repost, copy, or edit. plagiarism is punishable by law. 

[keeptheotherone]

Do You Promise?

Chapter 1 of a new WIP, just for you, my Tumblrers <3

August 1999 the Burrow’s garden Weasleys’ 2nd Annual End of Summer Celebration

Charlie Weasley sat on the fence separating his mother’s vegetable patch from the garden, thinking about the last time he’d sat here, one year ago. Then it had been Bill at his side, not his little sister.

“Knut for your thoughts,” she said, pushing herself up.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

Ginny raised her brows at the implication of his answer but didn’t tease. “Around.”

“Mmm.” He’d been home for more than twenty-four hours, but he hadn’t seen Potter once. At Christmas, they’d been a package deal, never out of arm’s reach of the other. “I thought he might have had to work.”

Ginny shook her head, pigtails dancing round her shoulders like they had when she was shorter than this fence. “Today and tomorrow, but not tonight. Mum made them promise.”

By “them,” Charlie knew she meant Ron and Harry. But … Mum made them promise? Not Ginny, or even Hermione?

“Well, he’d better show up,” Charlie said, taking a drink of his beer. “He owes me a rematch.”

They had played Quidditch in the orchard last year, he and Ginny and Potter and George and a bunch of kids he hadn’t known. Played past sunset into darkness, until Professor McGonagall ended the pick-up match without a capture of the Snitch.

Ginny muttered something that sounded like “he owes me a hell of a lot more than a rematch,” but Charlie let it slide. Ginny could take care of herself.

He and Bill had made sure of it.

“Shouldn’t you be with your friends?” 

“Thanks, Charlie, that means a lot.” She swiped the bottle from his loose grasp and drank.

Charlie had to remind himself she was of age to keep from overreacting, but even so, his hand twitched reflexively.

Ginny saw it and smirked round the glass, tipping her head back and the bottle up, taking several long swallows just for show.

“Yeah, you can have my beer, Sis. I’ll just get another, no problem.”

She finished with a pop and licked the foam from her upper lip before handing it back. “Thirsty.”

Charlie held the bottle up to the light—there was exactly one swallow left. “Brat.”

Ginny was predictably unfazed, gazing over the crowd starting to assemble round the food tables. “I talked to Angelina. She said Alicia couldn’t make it this year.”

“Who?” Charlie said, right as a picture of a perky brunette, with equally perky … anatomy … popped into his mind. Shit. Alicia wasn’t avoiding the party because of him, was she? The same age as George, she would know most of the people attending tonight. He’d thought they parted on good terms, all things considered….

“I thought you might be watching for Amy.”

“Amy’s coming?” He hadn’t seen Amy Green since he had invited himself back to her room and she politely declined. 

“Fleur wasn’t sure,” Ginny said casually, as if she hadn’t just dangled fairy lights in front of a niffler. “She said she encouraged her to come since she sounded a little down, but Amy didn’t commit. I hope she does, don’t you?”

“Of course. I haven’t seen Amy since the memorial. It would be good to catch up.” Charlie took a subtle deep breath, repeating the mantra he told himself when he occasionally woke with her on his mind. You asked, and Amy said no. It doesn’t matter if she isn’t seeing anyone. She’s still unavailable, Weasley. No benefits, just friends.

“I remember, you know. You think I was too young to understand, but I remember. In Egypt.”

Charlie scoffed. His baby sister celebrated her twelfth birthday the summer his family had visited Bill in Cairo. “Oh, yeah? And what do you think you remember, Gin-Gin?”

“I know Bill was an arse,” she said bluntly.

This reversal of her usual hero worship got Charlie’s attention.

“I know you weren’t. And that you liked her. I know you two went out together, and you’ve both dated other people since … but you’ve never dated each other.”

Charlie sighed. “Ginny….”

“Bill’s married,” she said simply. “It doesn’t matter any more.”

“I never thought I’d say this … but go find something else to do. Even if it’s Harry.”

****

Charlie did not leave his post on the fence rail, content to get quietly drunk and watch his family enjoy themselves. He had wondered why he’d bothered making the trip in—it made three in a month, when you added the party to Ginny’s and Percy’s birthdays—but now admitted to himself it had been in hopes of seeing Amy. After all, she hadn’t refused him, exactly; she’d refused the timing. 

“I think we both know what will happen if you walk me back to Hogsmeade.”

He raised his brows, leaving the challenging “so?” unspoken.

Amy closed her eyes, then pulled her hand from his. “Not today, Charlie.” She waved her hand at the gates and the castle and the grounds beyond, where the first Remembrance Ceremony had just ended. “Not after this.”

“Oi, sleepyhead!”

Charlie opened his eyes to find an object in eminent danger of colliding with his nose. He snatched it from the air in sheer self-defense, then groaned when he realized he’d just crumbled one of the best biscuits he’d ever had in his life—a biscuit he’d been waiting all year to taste again.

Percy laughed. “Nice catch, Captain.”

“Shut up,” Charlie muttered, trying to transfer the contents of his hand to his mouth without wearing them.

“Full of snappy retorts tonight, I see.”

Charlie eyed his next-youngest brother, his cheery demeanor highly suspicious. “Did you just get laid?”

Percy slung one arm around his shoulders. “I, in the utmost gesture of brotherly solidarity, am foregoing my own numerous opportunities to assist you in yours, however few and far between they may be.”

“You’re pissed.” Alcohol did not make Percy more relaxed; it made him more Percy-ish.

Percy squinted one eye closed and looked towards the gate. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But not so drunk I can’t recognize a certain beautiful brunette.”

It was Amy. She was wearing—well, Charlie supposed it was technically a dress, but he’d seen similar items under a dress or robes more than once. It was black and flow-y, with red flowers and skinny straps made to make a man think of slipping them off, and just like that Charlie saw the garment puddled at her feet. She was taller than usual in thick sandals, and even from this distance, with the cut of the dress and the way she moved—he could tell she was braless. He raised the bottle to his mouth before remembering it was empty.

“Godric, I wish I had a camera,” Percy said wistfully. “George and Ron are never going to believe this.”

Charlie realized he was making a fool of himself, closed his mouth, and turned, shaking off his brother’s arm. “What’s she doing now?”

“Making a beeline for us.”

Charlie spoke through clenched teeth. “Shut up and get the—”

“Amy! What a pleasure. We’re so glad you could make it.”

Charlie turned to find his brother kissing Amy on both cheeks with minimal difficulty, despite their height difference. His heart skipped a beat. She was taller; he could kiss her easily.

No, not kiss. We’re friends!

Oh, who was he kidding? Unless she flat-out declined, he was sleeping with Amy Green tonight. They could figure out the friendship stuff tomorrow.

“Hey,” she said, pausing just shy of kissing distance (cheek or otherwise).

“Hey.”

Her hair was down, as it often was, but she had pulled back the front above her ears, exposing small purple and silver earrings (her house colors) and … a blush?

“I would offer to bring you a handful of biscuits, but something tells me you two aren’t going to be here for long.” Percy smirked. “Take care, Amy. See you tomorrow, Charlie.”

Charlie glanced at Amy to judge her reaction. “I’m sorry. He’s, er—”

“Taking the piss?” She offered the British idiom with a grin.

Charlie returned it. “I was going to say ‘pissed,’ but yeah. That too.”

She laughed.

“I keep telling you, you’re lucky to be an only child.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, brushing her hands over his chest with slow, deliberate strokes that were in direct opposition to her presumed goal of removing crumbs. “Brothers can be useful. I figured even if you turned me down, not all of you would.”

Charlie froze, just for a second, his brain short-circuiting to a night more than a year ago, before Ron had left for Australia. “Well, if she actually says it with words, that’s always a good sign, although if she strips her knickers off, that’s even better.”

Wait a minute … she wasn’t commando under that thing … was she?

It took a few moments for the silence to catch his attention.

“I take it that’s not a no,” Amy said dryly.

“No. It’s not. But—”

Her expression darkened, and she pulled away slightly. 

“The terms haven’t changed.” 

“I didn’t think they had,” she said cooly.

They had been here before, the autumn after Voldemort came back. Grimmauld Place, an unexpected post-meeting raid, high spirits and adrenaline … and the darkened hallway where Amy had turned him down. “I like strings,” she’d said, and walked away.

The staccato drumbeat of the Weird Sisters’ Do the Hippogriff pulled Charlie from the memory.

“Drink?” he asked, indicating his empty bottle in case she hadn’t heard him over the noise.

“Not really.”

He’d already started towards the tables, but her answer drew him up short. “Really, Amy, you could at least buy me dinner first,” he said sarcastically.

She sighed. “Look, Charlie, I don’t want to play the game. It’s why I’m here. Now, am I wasting my time or not?”

For the second time that night he found himself holding on to his temper. He was starting to see how she’d got under Bill’s skin, why he’d had such a hard time letting her go even when Bill had known he didn’t want to pursue a relationship with her.

“So what, you thought you’d just fly in, snap your fingers, and I’d jump?”

“Am I wrong?”

Godric, she was obnoxious. She was also beautiful, confident, and sexy as hell, and Charlie was honest enough to admit he found the balance of power between them as intoxicating as it was infuriating. 

“We could get a room at the Leaky—in magical London—or maybe Hogsmeade?”

“I have a room in the village.”

Damn. When Amy made up her mind, she didn’t mess around.

“All right,” he agreed. “One last thing, though.”

He stepped into her space, close enough to ruffle her skirt with his legs and watch the gooseflesh pebble across her chest and shoulders. He ignored the temptation to follow it down and looked her in the eye. In heels, she was as tall as he, but his wide shoulders and bulky frame dwarfed her. He paused to let her consider this fact, still not touching her, before dropping his voice.

“You will not be in control the entire night.”

Her reaction went straight to his groin—a sharp intake of breath, dilated pupils, a shiver she tried to suppress. Then she smiled, a sly, knowing smile that reached all the way to her eyes and made them sparkle in the fading sunlight.

“Do you promise?”

[sapphirespencer]

Not in the Same Way (Spencer x Reader)

based on: Not in the Same Way by 5 Seconds of Summer

author’s note: this has been scrapped from two weeks ago, it was going to be a part 1 to series. i’m gonna leave it up for some time, just to see if anyone likes it. also, i’m pretty sure this one is gender neutral but if you don’t agree, please let me know!

word count: 1009

Simply put, you and Spencer had a complicated relationship. When you had first joined the BAU, the genius had been incredibly snarky. To the rest of the team, he had completely acted out of character but for the first five months you had joined, it was the only Spencer you knew. You hated seeing him resent you so much because honestly, you adored the littlest things about him, so you let him berate you for no reason for those first five months. You had seen him be sweet with the others, but that wasn’t your experience and you never understood why he hated you so much but at some point, his hidden reasons didn’t matter anymore. Even though you thought you were falling in love with him, you knew that how he treated you wasn’t okay. If he wanted to act like an asshole, he would be treated like one. 

And so you started arguing back, determined to never let him win. Hotch had reprimanded the both of you more than once and the team had just started to ignore the both of you the moment Spencer or you exchanged words with one another, knowing it would eventually lead to a never-ending yelling match. It had been 3 months since you first started making comments back and even you were tired of it. As you sat on the jet that was fast approaching Quantico, you stared at Spencer, wondering how he had enough energy to keep the arguments going and why he had decided to be against you in the first place.

“Staring at me won’t make me like you, Y/N.” Spencer said, quickly grabbing the attention of the exhausted FBI agents that surrounded you, some of them letting out a groan at what was about to follow.

“Sorry, I know you’re not used to women giving you more than a glance.” Derek drew a breath at your response. If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he would’ve praised you.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t have much experience with men anyway.” Spencer’s selective hearing must’ve kicked in because he was refusing to acknowledge the second part of your comeback. Suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything around you. Oh shit, did I take my medication before boarding? You chased after your memory, you were sure you had taken the pills; then why were you getting so anxious? 

“Spencer, let’s just stop. I can’t do this right now.” Your head pounded as you felt your lungs tighten and legs start to shake. JJ and Hotch had been the first to look over at you, noticing the wince you gave while you straightened your now throbbing back. Emily sensed that something was about to go terribly wrong. You had to shut the argument down before one of you took it too far. He was an asshole, but you didn’t want to say something that hurt him because he would never hurt you. He wouldn’t, right?

“Oh, my bad. I noticed you forgot to take your xanax. Guess you can’t get through a flight without feeding into your addiction, huh?” The team snapped their heads to face Spencer. He had gone too far and everyone, including him, knew that. They all knew about your prescribed alprazolam and why you took it before every flight. It was a sensitive subject and they had all respected your wishes to avoid talking about it. Until now. How could he say something so terrible?

“Oh, and you’re so perfect? We all know about the dilaudid, Reid, but some of us have the decency to consider others feelings!” You jumped up as long-suppressed tears scorched while they ran down your cheeks. You had screamed out every single word, hoping it would somehow reach his brain through that thick skull of his. But he already knew he had messed up. He had known the minute the sentences had left his mouth, but his sky high ego held him back from apologizing. The anxiety-caused constrictive hold on your lungs became unbearably tight. Your body gave out and you fell to your knees, scratching at your throat as Emily and Derek rushed to you. Aaron and David rushed towards your bags to locate your medication before the situation got worse. Spencer shot up from his seat and started to make his way over to you before JJ blocked him, shaking her head at him to let him know that now was not the time. Say that he made a mistake and beg for forgiveness. But would apologizing even help him this time?

Spencer had never told anyone that the reason he was always so angry at you was because you had joined while he was going through the thick of his recovery from dilaudid, and from the first remark, he had known what he was doing was wrong. He had many chances to stop using you as his punching bag but he never did. When he first realized he loved you, he got angrier at you. Angry at you for making him feel this way, angry at himself for hurting you, and angry for not knowing how to stop himself. After his revelation, he eased up, letting you win and never pushing the argument. The one thing he truthfully hated was seeing you take the tranquilizers, he was so scared that you would end up in the same situation he had been in with dilaudid. He never spoke on it but today, when he saw that you had forgotten, he couldn’t help but feel relief. But what he said, it was way beyond wrong. He had crossed the line and he knew it. 

That night as he laid in his bed, the words you had said to him before getting into your car after the plane had touched down was the only thing on his mind. Your words seemed so loud in his brain that he was beginning to believe that ‘What did I ever do to you, Dr. Reid?’  was written on the ceiling his eyes were so focused on. And your voice continued to ring in his head as he walked in the rain to his car and started the short drive to your apartment.

[prophecy-is-inevitable]

3 and 14 from the kiss types with Michael!! ✨ love your writing ❤️❤️

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. 14. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

Thank you for sending this request in! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer.

I don’t know if you had a specific Michael in mind, and I decided to go with Fire&Reign!Michael since I didn’t write him for Halloween. If there is another Michael that you would like, I’d be happy to write it for you, so just let me know! Bonus Sojourn!Michael blurb at the end, because this struck me as perfect for some soft comfort. Let’s say he’s early to mid-20s for these.

Fire&Reign!Michael: Price of Loyalty

Your knees quivered against his hips when he came to stand between your thighs. Michael had you caged in as you sat on the table, one hand pressed flat on either side of you, and he leaned forward until your noses nearly touched. His spearmint breath left his lips and flitted through your nostrils. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into those cobalt eyes. Not when you knew the violently raging storm clouds within them were because of you. The increased heat of his body’s clouding your senses with the taste of embers and chaos and rage was because of you.

“Say that again?” Michael’s voice was low and clipped. His eyes were on you even though you couldn’t manage to drag your gaze from one of the polished double buttons of his coat. You felt his gaze in the way the hair at the base of your neck stood. The fight or flight instinct was screaming for you to take wing and flee from the beautifully enraged man, even when your body remained leaden on the table’s edge.

“Mr. Nutter and Mr. Pfister have been watching you. Everything you do, everything you say. They’re playing you. They have an uplink inside of Ms. Mead.” You swallowed heavily and braced yourself for whatever retribution you would have to face on behalf of the men. They were the brains behind Michael’s grand, apocalyptic plans. You...you were replaceable. Any number of other Kineros employees would clamber over your body to be the Antichrist’s new little mole.

Quiet pops sounded in front of you. He was angry enough to be grinding his immaculate teeth. You were so screwed. The barely repressed rage left him shaking from head to toe, his golden curls shimmering in the harsh fluorescent lighting, and one of his hands balled into a fist that slammed down into the table next to you.

Your startled cry brings Michael’s eyes back to yours. This time you meet him, glance for glance, silently begging him to let you leave. Were you afraid of him, or the way he made your skin feel too tight and too hot around you? The way his anger leached from his body in warm waves your body absorbed and converted to arousal wasn’t right. It wasn’t right to want this man to use you, use his hands on you, his lips on you, to want him inside of you…

The touch of his fingers curling around your chin had your thoughts slamming to a halt. The caress was as soft and warm as a summer breeze; the sensation it brought you suffocated you like a tropical monsoon. Those beautiful ocean eyes you loved and feared roved over your features, and you couldn’t help but fear what he might uncover. You swallowed hard, and the motion of your throat drew his eyes downward to your lips.

“You are so good to me. So loyal.” Michael leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed your cheekbone. His eyes were hooded, heavy with thought and intention. The hand still on the table moved to hold your hip in place and prevent you from backing away. “I chose well when asking you to be my eyes and ears here.” Like his entire presence, his hand was large--large enough to swallow your visage whole--and he used that to his advantage by palming the side of your face to keep you locked in his gaze. “So good…”

His praise made you whimper, and you bit your lower lip to force down any other sounds that might try to rebel against your composure. The last thing you needed was for him to see a weakness in you, any weakness. Michael’s lips brushed your cheek when he spoke and sent your pulse threading wildly.

“Kiss me,” he breathed against you. Your head turned so quickly to look at him, to look for any sign of jest, that you nearly knocked your forehead against his. “Kiss me,” he repeated more firmly, eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

Instinctively, the tip of your tongue slid along your lips. He couldn’t be serious. The small smirk on his luxurious lips said otherwise. After a moment of searching his sinfully beautiful face, and determining that he was very much serious, you straightened yourself up and took a steadying breath. You couldn’t look away from your new destination. Those lips that spilled promises of greatness and lies of grandeur, spoke poetic justices against humanity, whispered tantalizing ballads of sacrifice and sin. They were suddenly meant to be yours. With more determination than you had expected of yourself, your head tilted and you pressed your lips to that devilish smirk of his.

His arms were around you the second your lips touched. One wrapped possessively around your waist to bring your body flush against his while the other sank into your hair. Buzzing filled his ears as his lips moved along yours with a natural pressure that increased with your joint desires. This was all he needed right now. You were sure he could feel your heartbeat against his chest, or was that his against yours? Your legs wove around him, holding him as tightly to you as possible. If this was all you’d have of him, you were not about to let the moment slip through your fingers. You would sin and sin again if this man asked you to.

Bonus Sojourn!Michael: Enough

“My Ms. Mead is gone.”

Those were the first words Michael had said to you. Soft and sad, and as hollow as his tragically beautiful eyes looked.

Michael Langdon seemed beyond broken when they dragged him to your apartment above the Church. Why? You had no clue. You weren’t a doctor or a nurse. Sure, you were certified in CPR, but the most medical care you’d ever provided was cleaning up a neighbor kid’s sidewalk scrape when he fell. There was no way that you could provide what Michael needed, as much as it broke your heart to admit it.

You looked up at Madelyn when Michael spoke from your sofa, his arms wrapped around his chest and tears dripping down his dirty cheeks. What did they expect you to do?! They’d barely even told you what had happened, and now you had the Antichrist sat on your hand-me-down couch. He smelled of dirt and salt and defeat. She wanted you to “make him presentable” for their next Black Mass...in three hours.

He didn’t look healthy at all, nor did he look like he wanted to be alive much less healthy. His hair was dry and greasy, his face unshaven and unwashed. His clothes looked like he had been caught up in a tornado and spit out into a swamp. With a heavy sigh, you sat down with a cup of tea and offered it to Michael. Madelyn loudly shut the door behind her when she showed herself out.

“I’m sorry.” What else was there to say? Gently, you cupped his cheek and brushed away the tears streaking through the dirt on his face. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes flickered for a moment up to yours.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. And now I’m all alone…” The way his face slowly disintegrated from sadness to pure grief brought tears to your eyes. His whole world was collapsing around him, and you could feel it taking his breath away. You could see it in the way his chest hitched with each uneven breath. A bubbling urge rose upside of you. The need to stay with him, to comfort him.

“You’re not alone, Michael. I promise. Madelyn will give you a place to stay, she's going to get you something to eat right now, and you’re welcome here any time.” You pulled him into a tight hug, your hand rubbing soothing circles into his leanly muscled back. Tight fists clenched into the back of your shirt. His face remained buried in your shoulder and you let him cry, whispering soft words into his ears. Whispers of better times and companionship.

For the next two weeks, Michael stopped over for a couple hours every few days. Each time he visited, he brought a light and a warmth to your home that you didn’t know had been missing. Like a fireplace without the cozy warmth of flames. Sometimes his mood was improved. Sometimes, he just needed to feel safe and to be held.

Today was one of the latter.

He sat on the same sofa, with the same body language, as the first night he’d been brought here. There were no tears this time, and that provided a spark of relief. Once again, you handed him a cup of tea and settled next to him on the sofa. Your arm hugged his close as you cuddled against his side, and your head dropped to his shoulder while you softly hummed whatever song had gotten stuck in your head that day. His head tilted until it rested atop yours.

“The Church wants me to start the Apocalypse.” Your humming quieted at the revelation. “But I don’t know what they want me to do. I-” He cut himself off and looked down at you. “I feel so lost and so alone. Ms. Mead would have known what to do,” he sighed. You smiled softly and ran your hand through his revitalized and healthy, yet currently unkempt curls.

You had learned over the time you’d spent together just how much Ms. Mead had done for Michael and how much he had loved her. She’d cared for him like no one else ever had. Your soft smile made Michael frown, and you chuckled.

“Well then, let’s think about what Ms. Mead would say. How would she make you feel better right now?” Michael ran a hand over his face and simply shook his head. He was declining again; you could tell from the shadow of stubble coating his cheeks and jaw.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to feel anything right now. I can’t feel anything.” He was afraid to. All the feeling he’d had only ever led to hurt. Your teeth worried at your lower lip when he turned away from you. He’d never turned away before. The silence between the two of you grew heavy. Maybe...you were no longer enough.

"Michael…" He only seemed interested in looking outside the window where the moon was glowing brightly, his eyes locked on the silver orb.

"Everything just feels...numb." Slowly, he turned back to you, tears glistening on his lashes. "Help me feel something. Anything besides this pain. Please?" His voice broke you, and you cupped his sculpted cheeks in your hands.

"Will you-" You swallowed down the question and decided to make it a request; you would be strong for him. A brief cough cleared the quiver from your throat. The words came out in a quiet, rushed breath when you spoke.

"Kiss me." Your eyes pleaded with him. Please, let me be enough.

Lustrous curls fell into his eyes from the speed with which he turned himself to face you. The lack of hesitation surprised you. There was only a moment until his hands seemed magnetized to your face, and then he was pulling you into him. Suddenly, he had you in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist like he thought you might try to leave him. You'd already given your promise. You would never leave him alone again.

With as much strength as you could muster, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Breathing was no longer something you required. You had ascended with his kiss on your lips and been claimed by a higher power. Your lips moved together in a perfect rhythm, as if this was the 100th time you’d sought sanctuary in each other’s arms. He crushed your chest to his and gently tickled your lips with the tip of his tongue in search for more--a gesture that told you all you needed to know. You were enough and he would never have enough of you.

[audiblesmirking]

erratic heartbeats ~chapter 6: you gotta love them over-affectionate characters~

Legend: "English unless stated otherwise" --- 'Thoughts' --- "Telepathically speaking" --- [Authors' Note]

"what are you saying, mother...?" Azumi's eyes glistened with the tears she's been suppressing. "you had other intentions...?"

Akina sighed exasperatingly, raising a hand to rub her temple, trying to ease the growing headache. "... This wasn't the right time to tell you."

"Well, when were you planning to tell me?! Years later after I've mastered my psychic abilities?!"

"Yes." Aiken answered bluntly, looking straight at his daughter's eyes as it darts from his to his wife's. The look of betrayal was prominent on Azumi's face; with eyes the widest they have ever been since she was a child, and eyebrows furrowed in denial. She refused to comment on her father's brutally honest reply. Not like she could anyway; a lump had already formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking clearly without her voice cracking midsentence. As if a rope of thorns are wrapped around her neck, occasional sharp pains pricked her throat.

"There was no other options to choose from so quickly. We feared your powers would be too much too soon, so we went with the best decision we thought." Aiken explained, maintaining eye contact as Azumi takes unconscious small steps back until her calves bumped the sofa. At the unexpected impact, she almost lost balance and, fortunately, didn't fall on her butt on the couch. It would have been embarrassing to argue after just falling.

"This issue involves me! Why didn't you consult to me first?!" She was now yelling, the dam in her tear ducts breaking and sending rivers down her cheeks. "If you thought lying to save you the trouble of talking to me would be best, you were wrong!"

"But I suppose you're too busy with other things to care about—" Azumi cut her sentence short went she silently choked on her saliva. Usually, she'd be embarrassed, but she was too deep in emotion to be feeling only a specific one for a moderate amount of time.

"What does that supposed to imply?!" Akina joined her daughter in standing, seemingly understanding her words despite it being abruptly cut. "We're doing this for you! For when you've given up all your powers you've had your whole life to your child! When you turn into an ordinary person, atleast you'll live in comfort. In luxury!" Azumi was irritated at her mother's assumption of procreating. How dare she, she doesn't get to decide on that. Whether she decides on an offspring is up to Azumi.

"I don't need luxury if it means I have to be neglected by my own parents! Parents who could always spare time for their lonely daughter, who spent all her life trying to achieve all her parents' expectations hoping to be rewarded with praise and attention." Azumi tried not to sniffle too loud, not bothering to wipe her tears. "and receiving nothing after all those years." Azumi walked away, the first time she's done that to her parents, and she felt a new sense of freedom by doing so.

"Azumi—!" Aiken was already by his wife's side, shutting her up.

"It's fine. Let her be alone for the remainder of the evening. We'll discuss about this again some other time..." He looked at his wife in the eyes as he held her in place, knowing she'll follow their daughter to her room demanding an explanation for her deplorable behavior. "We're also at fault here, Akina."

——————————

The next day, Azumi woke up all puffy and blotchy after crying so hard last night. She intended to wake up just after Aiken and Akina left for work, so she could prevent running into them in breakfast and in departing. Not like they ever encounter everyday in the morning, anyway.

.

.

.

Azumi arrived at school early, so she decided to take a detour from her usual walk straight to her classroom. She headed to the side of the school, where very few people would choose to walk through, and sat down on the concrete bench surrounding one of the trees. It was a windy morning, mild gusts of air blowing from the east, providing Azumi with the coolness she needs to feel as comfortable as possible. She was content on simply watching the leaves sway and fall from the wind until the morning bell chimes, but she was interrupted.

"Huh? Little buddy?"

Azumi turned to see Nendou approaching her. 'I didn't pin Nendou to be one of the early birds.' She gave a small wave, before redirecting her attention to the sky. 'But maybe it's just for today that he arrived here early, I do remember him mentioning about some early morning try-outs.'

"What are you doing here? Let's go to our classroom!" He beamed, before shifting his expressions to a more playful one. "Or did you forget where to go? Don't worry, little buddy, I'll show you the way!"

Azumi smiled at this. "No, I didn't forget. I just thought of clearing my head before school starts." She watched as he walked closer to her to listen more clearly to what she was saying, before another gust of wind blew the trees and drew her attention back to them.

Nendou decided to sit down next to her, planting each of his palms on the concrete beside his thighs and leaning back, using his arms for support. "Eh? Clear your head? Where will your brain go then?"

She lightly laughed, sparing her friend a glance. "It's not that type of clearing. I just want to forget about what happened to me last night."

"Huh, something happened to you last night?"

"Say, Nendou, how is your relationship with your parents?" Azumi realized her confession, and attempted to change the subject before her companion pries too much.

"I only have my mom. My dad died before I was born..."

"I–I'm sorry to have brought it up." Azumi felt bad for being so insensitive, she intertwined her fingers together and broke eye contact with Nendou. "How is your relationship with your mom, then?"

"Oh, we're doing fine!" His drastic change in expressions is questionable. "She got a new job at this company that she says pays more. I'm really happy about that, because my mom says she can buy me new shoes now! Though, last night she made me clean my room because I came home late and made her worry... Oh yeah! What happend to you last night? You hadn't told me that yet"

'To think that he came back to the topic after my distraction.'

"A–Ah, that..." Azumi hesitated, 'I guess telling him would be fine. I mean, he's not one to judge the lives of his friends, right? I'll just leave out the whole psychic powers thing.' She sighed.

"... I had a fight with my parents..."

•°●•°●•°●

"I feel like a kid who got beat up by a delinquent on their first day at a new school."

Azumi wanted to talk to Saiki about what she found out from her parents last night. She wished to tell him, most likely out of spite from being lied to, but also because it involves him as well. Just after she rounded a corner, she was surprised to see an unfamiliar student walking next to Saiki as she was heading to her classroom. She raised a hand to fiddle with her ear cuff, curious to know what his relationship was with the new student.

"I don't get why you want to hide it. Psychic powers would get you all sorts of attention." The new student was being too loud with his words in their sort of environment.

Azumi raised her eyebrows at the thoughts incoming behind her and hid in an empty classroom. She felt Teruhashi about to walk by and pass the two boys walking ahead of her.

"That's what I don't want."

A few seconds and a gasp later... 'Looks like the new transfer student fell for me, too.' Kokomi cheered in her head as she leaves the hallway, bringing Azumi out of her hiding spot. She furrowed her brows at what Teruhashi had done, confused on why she would actively search through the school looking for the transfer student only to receive a mere gasp for her efforts. She can always wait for him to hear about her and watch as he finds her. Atleast in that way, she can just sit pretty.

"Wh–Who is that beautiful girl?!"

"That's Teruhashi-san. She passed by us on purpose. You should be thankful."

Toritsuka Reita reacted loudly, shaking the shoulders of Saiki, before quickly being flocked by girls. All of which are curious about the news that spread about his psychic abilities.

"Saiki-san..." Toritsuka began, seemingly shocked by the crowd, but easily recovering. He smiled and gave a thumbs up in Saiki's direction. "Maybe I can settle for this."

'It'll die down, soon enough' Azumi thought, taking the chance to stand beside Saiki as if she had just arrived. She kept her hands in her pockets as the two psychics witness Toritsuka do his job in impressing the girls before him. "Who is he?" Azumi feigned ignorance of the situation, turning her head to look at the friend beside her.

Saiki shortly glanced at her in masked skepticism, before looking back at the gathering people around the spirit medium. "Toritsuka Reita." Azumi nodded in response, turning as well to watch the commotion in front of her.

Takahashi and his friends insisted Toritsuka tell their spirit guardians after initially being ignored, which inconvenienced the spirit medium in his quest to woo every girl that are around him. "Okay, let's see..." Toritsuka deadpanned, sparing them only a quick look. "Geezer, hag, hag, and hag. Okay, it's done."

Azumi got overwhelmed by the growing number of people gathered in the hallway, she sought solitude. In her attempt to walk away, she drew the attention of Toritsuka. "W–Wait—! You there, don't you want to know your guardian spirit?!" He gaped as she ignored him and left to go to her classroom. Toritsuka turned to the psychic he knows. "Saiki-san, do you know her?!"

"Ah, that was Kanasawa-san. She was new here on the first day."

"She's got a crazy powerful guardian spirit. Maybe even a psychic...?" He whispered to Saiki, to which his words piqued his interest.

He was about to repsond, when Kaidou came and interjected. "Guardian spirits? What nonsense." He acted uninterested, despite his thoughts telling otherwise. "Still, I'd suppose it would be rude not to hear you out. So tell me what my guardian spirit, or whatever, is."

Toritsuka was about to deadpan at him as well, but his guardian spirit was too interesting to not comment on. "Huh? Your guardian spirit is quite abnormal."

'Seriously?! 'Quite abnormal'?! Is it a demon?! A sealed monster?! A dark spirit?!'  "I-I see. So what is it? Tell me." Kaidou had an obvious blush on his face, but despite his excitement, he lowered his voice to maintain his appearance of uninterest.

"It's a chihuahua."

"Ch-Chihuahua?!" Kaidou exclaimed as the students around started laughing. Looking down on his clenched fist, he started mumbling to himself. "How dare he?! I bet he's a fraud!"

Toritsuka faced Saiki. "Introduce me to her so I can tell her about her guardian spirit." His favor sounded friendly, but adding in his expressions and his true thoughts, it became too friendly and borderline perversion. 'Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute, cute, cute. She looked so cute...' Not like he wasn't a pervert, anyway.

"What was that about, Kanasawa-sensei? Are you feeling alright?"

"Quit repeating 'cute' in your head...!"  Saiki directed his thoughts to only the spirit medium, irritated at his noisy mind.

——————————

Aiken looked up from his desk, seeing the faces of two of his co-workers. "Hmm? What do you mean, Kinji-san?" He addressed the hospital resident who was with him in the OR, lowering the pen he was holding.

"In the surgery a while ago..." Kinji started.

"Why, what about it? Did I cut something wrong in any way?" Aiken knit his eyebrows, worry bubbling within him.

"No, it's not that. You did everything perfectly."

"So what's the problem here?"

"The problem is, you did everything. It was as if there was no one there to assist you in the surgery." The other doctor, Taiji, replied. He was there to confront Aiken after having been approached by Kinji. 'I appointed a number of residents under Kanasawa-san, because he was the best of the best, but how can they learn from him if he doesn't give them a chance?'

"Yes, is there something bothering you? This normally isn't the case." Kinji held on the backrest of the chair on the other side of Kanasawa's desk, contemplating if he should sit down or not.

Aiken sighed, leaning back on his chair. "It's a family issue. I apologize. I promise it will be ameliorated by tomorrow."

.

.

.

"Kanasawa-sama, the new managers of the marketing department have arrived. We are waiting for you to teach them the ropes." A petite young woman entered Akina's office after notifying her presence with a knock.

Akina looked up from her documents, she had finished little in the span of the morning, and the executive secretary took notice of this. "Is that so?" She turned back to the papers on her desk, lifting her pen to scribble in her signature. "Call in one of the presidents to lead on the managers. Whoever you choose that best fit the role will be my substitute." She spoke after a moment of silence.

"Are you not feeling well, Kanasawa-sama?"

"Yes, and so I entrust the decision to you, May-san." Akina looked at the young psychic in the eyes, an aura of superiority radiating off of the CEO. "Good luck."

"Come on, Saiki-san..." Toritsuka pestered Kusuo after he followed him around the whole day, through lunch and even now as they were walking out of the campus.

"As you wish, Kanasawa-sama" She bowed before leaving the room. May heard the sigh coming from her supervisor right before she fully shut the door.

——————————

Toritsuka mistakenly thought Nendou was a ghost a while ago, having swung his bag at him, and were now on their way to his home at the temple to explain his reason for assault.

"Just tell me more about Kanasawa-san!" He whined like a child that was denied from eating candy. "The ghosts avoid me like the plague when I ask about her from them."

"They do?" The new information grabbed Saiki's attention, but he didn't turn to look at his companion. "Well, they should."

"Is she a psychic like you? Because I think her guardian spirit might be an ancestor of hers. They look alike..." Toritsuka gave up on his begging, knowing that Saiki will not let out information even if he cried all night. Toritsuka leaned his head back on his interlocked fingers, before his saliva was practically drooling from the corner of his mouth. "But if she is someone with psychic powers, then I should've come to her instead."

Saiki smacked the back of his head with his psychokinesis, glaring at him from the corners of his eyes. "Hey! Don't go changing your mind after annoying me last night."

"Ow—! That hurt you kno—" Toritsuka cut off his own sentence when something in him clicked, as if the slap urged the gears in his brain to work. "Kanasawa... Does Kanasawa-san live next to you?!" He held the shoulders of the psychic beside him.

Saiki frowned at his personal question and invasion of personal space. "Why would you want to know?"

"Last night, while I was walking to your house, I passed by this huge house that was beside yours. It had 'Kanasawa' written in the gate's plaque." Saiki raised an eyebrow, having already known the information, but Toritsuka continued. "It was strange, because there were no ghosts hanging around and in the lot. There are a lot of ghosts that prefer to hang out in mansions, so it came as a surprise when I saw absolute zero ghosts when I passed by."

Saiki hummed in response, before throwing off Reita's hands from his shoulders using his powers. He contemplated with the new information he received, continuing with his walk. 'Her family is a mystery, even with the help of ghosts. As I thought, there is no other way to figure them out without getting close to them.'

"We're here. Okay, could you touch me while using your psychometry?" Toritsuka said after they stopped infront of his house, making Saiki push the topic of the Kanasawa's some other time. "I think you'll know why I made the mistake I made a while ago."

As Saiki stared at him suspiciously, he held his shoulders and activated his psychometry. "This is..."

Kusuo trailed off as he saw a Nendou lookalike sleeping on the ground while leaning on the stairs "Let me introduce you. This is my guardian spirit" Toritsuka looked ashamed, and didn't even look at Saiki in the eyes when he talked.

"You really do have it tough"

•°●•°●•°●

Azumi dreaded to enter her house, standing in front of the double doors and contemplating whether to enter or to retreat to a nearby park. 'No, I shouldn't postpone this any longer. It is bound to happen, anyway.'  With gathered confidence, she pushed opened the door and walked in.

'They're either waiting in the main living room, my room, or the dining room.' Azumi hoped they were in the dining room, but the call she heard after being halfway in walking past the main living room, proved otherwise. 'Living room it is...'

She silently entered and sat in the exact spot she was the other night, feeling the gazes of Akina and Aiken as she does.

A heavy silence hanged in their air, each member of the family waiting for the other to speak up. Aiken chose to start. "It has come to our attention that you have been feeling neglected and ignored by your mother and I... and, we wish to amend the mistake we made and be given another chance to become proper parents to you." He spoke slowly, thinking over his words before it would be said, so as not to offend anyone. "I hope our talk today will enlighten all three of us of the hardships we each have encountered, and discuss a proper solution to help."

"There should be no raising of voices. We are here to talk and to listen." Aiken finished, looking at the expressions of his wife and daughter to see if they understand and agree or not. The two nodded, making Aiken nod as well.

The Kanasawa couple met gazes, and Aiken prompted his wife to talk. "I... have come to realize that I oftentimes cut you off... Zumi-chan. I didn't know it would have a greater effect on you than waiting for you to finish what you're saying. I'm sorry. This is more on a problem of self, so I don't wish for you to change because of what I've done."

Azumi stared at her mother, harboring mixed feelings on the apology she received. She looked down, thinking over of what to say. "An apology is the first step to redemption... and so, I accept your apology." She took notice of the wistful look on her father. 'Ah, I guess he has nothing to talk about, because we almost never talk—or do anything, really—alone.' Despite Azumi thinking her father had nothing to share, she was surprised to hear his voice.

"I apologize for not spending any of my time with you, Zumi-chan." He looked down, with his eyebrows low, he refused to look at his daughter. "I will make it up to you over time. We'll be bonding together atleast once a week, now."

Azumi furrowed her eyebrows at his words. "But your work..."

"I can always have a number of leaves a month. Since I'm a talented volunteer, they treasure me enough to let me manage my own schedule."

"And I can always reschedule." Akina added in. "You were right. No amount of money can ever replace the love from your parents." Akina genuinely smiled at Azumi, who slowly returned the smile. "I'm sorry it took so long for us to realize."

"it's okay, as long as you both won't forget." Azumi weakly said, afraid to hear her voice crack as a lump formed in her throat just as what happened last time.

"Ah, before I forget. About what you said of being well-rounded yesterday." Aiken raised his head.

"A–Ah, that. You can just put it off as me blabbering because of anger. I wasn't thinking straight last night."

"No, what you say matters." Azumi locked eyes with her mother. Her eyes widened by a fraction at the words she never expected to hear from Akina. "I cared too much about you being powerless, I pushed you to be perfect in every aspect. I hoped that even without psychic abilities, you can live your life whatever you wish, and pursue your dream job, as if you had them. I was obviously wrong."

"I'm sorry, as well, that I made you master various martial arts. I was simply concerned for when you encounter immoral people, and had no other way to protect yourself. By the time your powers awakened, you've already achieved all the highest honor of belts." It was Aiken's turn to lock eyes with his daughter. "I'm very proud of you."

"I pushed you to perfect every instrument, sport and hobby I give you. And I truly am sorry for everything I have put you through." Akina said after her husband finished. "I am very proud of you as well, Zumi."

Everything was going too fast and is overlapping with each other in Azumi's mind. She heard an apology and words of praise from both her mother and her father, so why isn't she satisfied? Was she too stuck up to genuinely accept their words? If so, she's feeling very horrible right now. Nevertheless, she forced a smile and wordlessly nodded. She didn't know what to think of right now, and ought to think it through the night.

"We'll be holding something similar to this every week, so we can improve our communication with each other." Aiken concluded, standing up from his seat, his family following suit. "Now, let's have dinner. I'm famished."

——————————

It was Saturday, and Azumi woke up pretty early; that is, if you can count 10:15 am as early. She had a sports lesson with Furushima Yumi, the volleyball captain she met during 'chapter iii.', and ought to prepare before their agreed time of 11:30 am.

She finished everything, from changing into her sports attire to packing water and towels in one of her bags, after almost an hour. 'Alright, 15 minutes is probably enough time for me to arrive at the school. But only if I run... Should I take the car?' While she was contemplating whilst headed for the stairs that lead down to the ground floor, she saw, from the corner of her eye, a frantic boy in front of her gate. 'Toritsuka-san?'

Azumi watched as he shouted at seemingly nothing, elaborating huge gestures as he does. 'What in the world is he going on about?'  She was curious to know what has gotten him so worked up. 'Kusuo-san's house is over there, anyway.' With her heightened hearing, without touching her power limiter, she listened in on what the spirit medium has been talking about with the air.

"Come on, it'll only take a few seconds to peek inside..." Toritsuka dragged on, slouching his back and hanging his arms, slowly getting tired of all the ruckus he's been creating. "What's so terrifying about that mansion, anyway...?"

He stayed silent for a moment, most likely listening to the ghost he's conversing's explanation. "Eh? Is that so?" He looked at the front door of Azumi's house, before sighing. "I guess I'll wait for Kanasawa-san to come out. Oh, I bet she'll be super cute today, too~!"

Azumi grimaced in disgust at his last words. 'Yeah, I should take the car.'

.

.

.

"Azumi-san—!" Furushima took notice of the approaching figure of Kanasawa, placing down her water bottle and excitedly jogging towards the girl. "You're here!" She beamed, eyes creasing in delight and arms open to hug.

Azumi slowed her walking at the gesture the volleyball captain was showing, hesitating on whether or not she was comfortable enough to accept the hug.

In the end, she awkwardly wrapped her arms around Furushima, choosing to be polite and accept the gesture of affection.

After the first few volleyball lessons that happened between the two, Azumi thought they were close enough to be called by each other's names. "ah-hah... Did I make you wait, Yumi-senpai?" She let out a short nervous laugh before stating her question.

Furushima released herself from the hug, but let her hands rest on Azumi's forearms, smile unfaltering. "Not at all. But I have missed you since our last meeting." Before the psychic could respond, the volleyball captain was already ushering her towards the court, a hand gently guiding her back. "I thought you were ready to play with a team, so I invited a few of my friends, if you don't mind."

"No, it's fine. It's a fundamental part of playing volleyball, after all."

As if Furushima's smile couldn't possibly get any bigger, it just did. "You look pretty as usual today, Azumi-san..." Once again, Kanasawa was unable to reply when one of Yumi's friends yelled their greeting once they saw them walking towards the court.

==========

A/N

discuss plot holes of "erratic heartbeats" with us! @ the link in my bio.

[drabbledragon]

Linktober: Graveyard

Here’s the start of Nocturne of Shadows week!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/65839948

Summary: A few Links have something in common, and wonder why that is.

Warnings: Mentions of death but nothing too graphic

Day 7: Graveyard

It was cold and rainy when the Links arrived in Legend’s Hyrule. It was good that they ended up so close to the castle, because a majority of them were unsure if they could go another half - day’s trip to the nearest inn with how exhausted they were. As soon as the castle guards caught sight of their resident hero, the group was immediately led inside with open arms and welcoming smiles, and had no qualms about bringing the Links to this Hyrule’s Zelda.

A full - course meal was a nice surprise for them. After they had gotten the chance to check in with the princess, the staff had eagerly ushered them into the royal dining room where every food known to man stood freshly prepared on the table, the warmth radiating from the meals almost palpable in the air. The afternoon was spent with light banter and hums of satisfaction as the heroes easily chatted with each other, enjoying the taste of real food and simply being grateful that they didn’t have to spend another night sleeping in a monster - infested forest. Soon late noon had turned into early evening, and the heroes took to doing whatever they wanted to do: from writing letters to reading books to whittling to sleeping, all the Links were busy doing something.

“Hey, you see that?”

Twilight stopped in his tracks and directed curious eyes towards Wild’s direction, following the latter’s gaze to where a castle window stood. He squinted past the clear panes to get a better look at what his protege was so interested in, and finally drew his brows together when he caught sight of a lone figure sitting in the heavy rain. 

He leaned forward as he noted, “ Red tunic, blond hair … that’s Legend, isn’t it? What’s he doing out there?”

The clack of heels didn’t become evident until they were just a few steps away from the two heroes, and both of them turned just in time to catch Fable, Legend’s Zelda, looking through the window alongside them.

She scrunched up her eyes as she searched around outside, and when she finally found the person of interest, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“It’s that day already, huh,” She murmured as she drew back. “ Felt like it’d only been yesterday since he last did this.”

The two others were quiet for a second, before Twilight hesitantly spoke up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Princess, but I’d like to know why Link is outside on a day like this.”

“That’s none of your concern, now is it?”

The both of them were taken aback by the sharp words, but her tone held no bite. She appeared solemn and serious, not a single bit of her boisterous and mischievous personality to be found.

She soon continued her steady pace down the halls again, eyes trained carefully ahead as if the harsh rain outside did nothing to faze her; but before she was able to round the corner, she paused and quietly said,

“Link is at the Royal Graveyard, mourning someone he had lost two years ago.”

Her words were weighty, and they were enough to make Twilight and Wild feel like a wave had crashed down on them. They were at a loss for words, and neither of them made any move to pry more information from the princess or even bother to stop her from disappearing from view; the two simply stood there in stunned silence, acutely aware of the little rain droplets that dribbled down the window.

It was Wild who finally broke the silence when he said, “ I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“Wait, seriously? Don’t you think he could use a little alone time? He’s usually really keen about settling things on his own, especially when it comes to people.”

“I know that but I...” The Hero of Wilds bit his lip for a moment as he glanced between his mentor and the window. “ … but I just have a feeling. Listen, I’ll hang out there for a sec, and if he really wants to be left alone, then I’ll leave, okay? Promise.”

Twilight opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. If there was anyone that could deal with mourning and loss in the group, it was Wild, and if his instincts told him to go to Legend, Twilight wouldn’t even second - guess it. He held his breath as he watched his protege’s retreating form, hoping with all his heart that his cub was right on this one.

It didn’t take long for Wild to find the graveyard - just a left, a right, another quick left, down the stairs and he was there, the rain’s cold chill already beginning to settle in his bones. He carefully made his way through the neatly lined graves, and didn’t stop until he found Legend silently kneeling in front of a particular stone.

The Hero of Legend looked worse for wear: his blond hair was pasted haphazardly to his face and neck, and his red tunic was soaked with the rain from above and the mud from below. He looked weary from where he stood, and his shoulders were hunched forward as if the weight of the world were pressing down on them, forcing him back to the ground whenever he had an inkling of hope that he might be able to stand up and walk away. 

This was a different Legend, Wild frowned, not the gruff and testy teen they all knew and loved, but rather a young boy who had seen one too many destroyed towns, fought one too many battles, and saw one too many people die because of him. The Hero of Wilds felt his heart break at the sight.

“Go away.”

That was Legend’s voice, but his tone was low and raspy, holding none of its usual fire. Despite the other’s command, the champion tightened the grip on his cloak and took a step forward.

“Legend, you shouldn’t be alone here.”

“I want to.”

“You say that but you don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

“Look, I know what you’re going thro -”

“Hylia, Wild, just take the hint and leave!”

The outburst was enough to shut Wild up, and prevented him from taking another step. He stood quietly as he watched Legend’s head dip lower, and he had to strain his hearing in order to hear the other murmur out,

“Please, just leave.”

He could’ve sworn that it started to rain harder, like Hylia herself was crying for Legend’s loss. The graveyard became enveloped in a misty fog, and any semblance of the evening moon was covered up by gray clouds that refused to leave. The Hero of Wilds stood still for a few seconds before eventually settling himself on the muddy ground, just a row away from where Legend’s loved one resided. With a steadying breath, he began,

“I used to have a lot of friends and family, y’know. According to Zelda, I used to be one of the most loved soldiers in all of Hyrule, and the pride and joy of my family. I lived with my mom and dad and sister in a little house in Hateno, and the people there told me that I used to spend the whole day playing with the village kids until the sun setted. My dad was a knight, and the whole reason I was even discovered to be Hylia’s Chosen was because one of the visiting soldiers saw that I could wield a sword at the age of five. It’s kinda weird, right? Having a bunch of old guys watch a little kid wave a sword around.”

Wild looked up to see if his attempt at humor had worked, but Legend remained as still and silent as before.

“And Zelda said I was thrown into the army by the next night. She said she remembered me following my dad around like a lost puppy, and I barely talked to anyone, even when they were asking questions directly to me. I made friends with Mipha and Daruk really quick, and then Zelda and Urbosa and Revali; I wouldn’t talk to them no matter what, but Zelda said Daruk and Revali were doing most of the talking anyway, so it didn’t really matter. I would spend the whole day training instead of playing, and she said I almost never went home because Rhoam forced me to stay so I could protect the castle and the royal family. My dad went home to my mom and sister, and Mipha, Daruk, Urbosa, and Revali all went home to their families, and I was the only one left.”

“I was alone, and Zelda started to hate me because of how annoying I was. Soon everyone started to hate me because of how much Rhoam loved me, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it. I was told that since I was a hero chosen by the Goddess, I had to do whatever the kingdom wanted me to do, and whatever I thought didn’t matter; it was always protect Zelda and do whatever the king asked. I missed out on a lot: my childhood, my friends, my family, all because I was supposed to be some legendary hero.” He choked out a watery laugh. “ Now I can’t even remember any of that: I can’t remember my mom’s or my dad’s or my sister’s faces, I can’t remember how the soldiers used to treat me before they started to hate me, I can’t remember the places Mipha, Daruk, Urbosa, Revali, and Zelda used to take me - I can’t remember anything. I’m just some former champion that was nearly killed by the Calamity 100 years ago, and I have feelings that I can’t explain the reason of.”  

Wild’s throat grew tight with emotion, and he did his best not to let the sobs wrack his body. A small part of his brain reminded him that no, he shouldn’t be throwing himself a pity party, he should be comforting Legend, but he couldn’t help it. It was all so unfair: all the other Links could remember their friends and family even if they were long gone but Wild was the only one who couldn’t; all he could remember were fragments of his time under Rhoam and whatever his Zelda told him to be true. He was a blank and empty slate that could barely remember his friends and family but still held a myriad of emotions towards them. 

He wondered if he should just go on in life pretending that the last 117 years didn’t happen - that all the good and bad memories he had of his friends and families were all due to vivid fever dreams.

“My uncle died two years ago.”

The champion was caught off guard when Legend finally spoke, and although the former was barely holding it together, he did his best to listen to the other’s soft words.

“It was when I was on another adventure. I came back to the castle as soon as I was back in Hyrule, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw Zelda waiting there with my uncle’s sword and shield. She didn’t need to say a thing; by the way she looked at me, I knew what was up: my uncle was dead, stabbed by an Armos when he least expected it. She told me the death was quick, and that the soldiers travelling along with him made sure he died as comfortably as possible. They said his last words were ‘tell Link I’m proud of him’, but I don’t know if that’s what he actually said; maybe the soldiers were just trying to make me feel better.”

“I was locked up in my house for days, and no matter how many times the castle’s soldiers tried to break down my door and threaten me, I wouldn’t leave. I was depressed, and I didn’t want anything to do with Hyrule anymore. He was everything to me: he took me in when my parents were trapped in the Dark World, he taught me how to fight and wield a sword, and he gave me all the unconditional love I could ever ask for.” He tilted his head up to the sky, and Wild wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears falling from his face. “ I wonder if things would’ve changed if I was back home instead of out there adventuring - if I just became a regular soldier at Hyrule Castle instead of being a Goddess - forsaken hero.”

His frame was shaking, but his voice stayed strong and firm. “ I miss him more than anything in the world, but I don’t regret having any memories of him, and you shouldn’t regret having any memories of your friends and family either, no matter how little they are.”

It was ironic, the champion thought: here Legend and Wild were, two links in the same heroic chain, that were supposed to be selfless and loyal and a beacon of hope to the citizens of Hyrule, crying in a graveyard. They had been through their own set of adventures, faced their own trials and tribulations, but they both still had the same feelings as a citizen towards death. They were two broken kids who just wanted to enjoy a happy life.

Wild took in a shuddering breath and quietly asked, “ Do you think people die because we’re Chosen Heroes?”

Legend’s answer was short and simple, not an inking of hesitance in his voice, “ Yes.”

<Previous Next>

[why-did-i-join-this-fandom]

Simple Stars - part 2

Summary:  [Y/N] has found her soulmate.  But, it turns out that he’s an asshole.  Will they make amends?

Word Count: 2575

Warnings: slight angst??? a couple of swear words

Due to popular request, here is part 2 to “Simple Stars”  I wanted to add another day or so between when shit goes down and when Tsukki and the reader finally talk, but this would have ended up being like 5000 words!!  As always, let me know what you think!!  Your feedback is always welcome and appreciated!!

Part 1

~★~

  Part of you was happy that no one chased after you.  There was another part of you that was disappointed.  You knew that your soulmate was mean, so why did you still want him?  Why did the universe have to do this to you?  That night, you barely got any sleep.  Time was spent either crying or wondering why the universe hated you so much.

  Needless to say, you woke up the next morning feeling more tired than ever.  The day was spent simply going through the motions.  Although, you made an effort to not draw on yourself.  When lunch came around, you realized that you had forgotten your lunch at home.  Today was turning out to be one of the worst days of your life.

  Sighing, you stretched your arms above your head.  You debated on whether or not to dig through your bag for some extra cash.  Maybe you could get something from one of the vending machines.  Before you could reach to dig through your bag, Yachi tapped on your shoulder.

  “Are you alright?”  Her question was sincere, but you weren’t in the best mood.

  “Do I look okay?”  You snapped.  Noticing the look of shock and hurt on her face, you speak up again.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just tired.”

  “We both know that’s not true.  Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”  You begin to protest, but she slaps some money on your desk.  Sighing, you grab the money and stand.  What did you do to deserve such a good friend?

  “Lead the way, just not in front of the gym again.  I don’t want to deal with him.”  She simply smiles and leads you down the hallways of the school.

~★~

  Once Yamaguchi explained to the team why you ran away, everyone was scolding Tsukishima.  He did realize that he messed up, but he refused to admit it.  The idea of soulmates was nothing but an annoyance to him.  Someone who you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?  What bullshit.

  So why was he feeling like a small part of him died?  He reasoned with himself.  Saying that he was only so upset because the team teamed up against him and banned him from practice until he made amends.  Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.  He felt so horrible because he could feel a small fraction of the emotions that you were feeling.

  Did he really hurt you that bad?  Had he really just fucked up the one good thing that this life was willing to give him?  He spent most of that night trying to drown out your emotions.  He tried listening to music on full blast.  He tried studying to get his mind off of the things that he felt, but it wouldn’t work.  Instead, he ended up crying himself to sleep, much like you did.

  When he woke up, part of him was hoping that you had written to him.  Even if it was just those stupid stars that he threw such a fit over.  Anything.  Tsukishima wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but he couldn’t help himself.  He spent his morning sulking, trying to get his indifferent mask back on.  It didn’t work, no matter how hard he tried.

  Yamaguchi definitely noticed the difference with his friend.  However, whenever he tried to bring the difference up, he was quickly shut down.  Tsukki went through the day as normal, much like you did.

~★~

  The walk to the vending machines was quiet.  Neither of you bothered to fill the silence.  It wasn’t until you finally reached the vending machines, that Yachi broke the silence.

  “Talk to me.”  Her voice was soft.  It was like if she spoke too loud, you would break.

  “I wish I didn’t have a soulmate,” you lied.  Right now it was easier to lie to yourself than to face the truth.  Maybe if you lied to yourself enough, you could get over this.  That wasn’t how it worked, but you were desperate to stop hurting.

  “Your soulmate is your other half.  The person you are meant to spend the rest of your life with.  It’s gonna be just like any other relationship.  There are going to ups and downs, but in the end, you both know that it’s going to work out.  Do you really want to spend the rest of your life sad and alone because of one little argument?”  She was right.  No matter how much you wanted to deny it, Tsukki was your other half.  The person you were destined to spend your life with.  But that still didn’t give him any right to hurt you like he did.

  “I just… I’m not sure what to think right now.  On one hand, my heart wants to forgive him.  On the other hand, my brain keeps telling me that I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”  There was your dilemma.  The battle between your heart and your brain.  “Realistically, I know that I should just forgive and forget.  It would be better for the both of us.  I think I just need a little bit of time to process.”  At first, you didn’t want to talk about what happened.  You wanted to deny everything and go back to normal.  However, it was better to talk.  It was better to get your thoughts out there than to keep everything in your head.  

  You both take a moment to bask in the silence.  Yachi struggles to find the right words to say.  So instead she hums in approval.  She understands that you’re hurting, and she respects it.  “Let’s head back to the classroom.”  Yachi chooses to end the conversation there.  She packs her lunch up and waits for you to follow suit.  When you finally do, she gives you a small smile and walks alongside you.

~★~

  The last half of the school day comes and goes.  There was too much on your mind to properly focus, so you doodled instead.  You tried to keep your pen on your paper, but there were a few times when you couldn’t help yourself.  It wasn’t as bad as usual, but there were a handful of stars on your arms.  Would Tsukki get mad again?

  “[Y/N]-chan, why don’t you stay after school with me?  I’ll let you copy my notes and we can walk home together.”  Yachi spoke as soon as the bell rang.  You really had to stop spacing out so much.

  “Yeah, I’ll be in the library.  Text me when you’re done cleaning up, I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

  “You can just sit in the gym again,” she offers.  “That way we can just go from there,” Yachi quickly finds an excuse.  Like hell you’d go back there.  Not after last time.

  “I’m sure you know why I’m gonna say no.  There’s no way.  I’m not ready to see him again.”  You really weren’t.  At this point, you knew what you had to do, but you weren’t ready.  Not yet.

  “Alright.  I’ll see you later.”  Yachi relents.  You both pack your bags and head your separate ways.

  Your walk to the library was quiet.  It was nice to be alone again.  Once in the library, you unpack your notebook, pens, and Yachi’s notebook.  You spend a while copying notes, until someone sits in front of you.  There were plenty of seats open, so why did this person decide to sit right by you?  Curiosity gets the best of you and you look up and glare.

  “Why are you here?  Don’t you have practice?”  You sneer.  Of all places he could be, he had to be right here in front of you.

  “I’m skipping today,” he explained simply.  He didn’t look at you.  Instead, his eyes were on anything but you.  The walls, the books on the shelves, other students, anything but you.

  “Uh-huh.  Like I would believe that.  What happened, did they kick you out,” you questioned mockingly.  Finally he looks at you.

  “Tch.  I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me to be here.”  He said to you, matching your glare.

  “Then why are you here?  I thought I was too annoying for you,” you reminded him.  If he wants to talk to you, you’re gonna remind him of what he did.  Of how he hurt you.  The least he could do was apologize.  He’s the reason why you two were in this mess to begin with.

  The librarian shushed the both of you.  A small apology escaped your lips.  While you were momentarily distracted, Tsukishima snatched your pen from your hand.

  “Hey!  Give that back!”  What was wrong with this dude?

  “[L/N]!  Out!”  The librarian yelled.  Before you could protest, Tsukishima grabbed your stuff and dragged you out of there.

  “What the hell?  What’d you do that for?”  You yelled at him, snatching your wrist back.  So much for copying notes in a peaceful area.  Tsukishima walked off before he responded.

  “Well, are you coming or not?”  The smirk on his face made you want to hit him.  But, you followed him nonetheless.  He still had your stuff, after all.

  “Where are we going?”  You questioned.  

  “You’ll see.  Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind, short stack.”  Now he was calling you names?  What the hell was this guy’s problem?

  “Just because you’re a bean pole, doesn’t mean I’m short,” you defended.  He merely hums and starts walking faster.  “Hey, you jerk!  Slow down!”

~★~

  When he finally stopped, you were by the gym.  There was no escaping this place, huh?  Things were still quiet.  Neither of you had bothered to make further conversation.  Instead of wasting time sitting in silence, you decide to resume copying Yachi’s notes.  Digging into your bag, you take out both notebooks and a couple of pens.  Though, your favorite pen was not in its proper spot.  You check your backpack 3 or 4 times before letting a huff of frustration out.

  “Hey have you seen…”  The words die in your throat as you look over to see Tsukishima drawing on his arm with it.  “Hey!  I thought you hated when I drew on my arms!  Why do you get to draw on yours?”  You reach over to grab the pen from his hand.  He quickly finishes writing and stands up, holding the pen above his head.  Instead of looking like a fool and jumping up to reach it, you punch him in the stomach and snatch it when he bends over.

  “What the hell was that for?”  He clutches his stomach.

  “That’s what you get for hurting me and stealing my favorite pen,” you explain smugly.  Soon your smile dies down and you remember the hurt that you were feeling not too long ago.  With fists clenched at your side, you glare at him once more as you fight the tears that were coming back.  “Why?”  You sniffle.  “Why would you write that?”  At this point your sorrow had come back, full blast.

  He hesitates, still clutching his stomach.  “Because you were being annoying.  I was getting tired of washing off all of your little doodles before practice.”  He sits back down next to you, this time closer than before.

   “Why would you wash them off?  Is there a rule against it?”  You wanted to understand.  Why would he get rid of the doodles that connected you to him?  Did he really hate them that much?

  “I just didn’t like the attention they brought to me.”  He sighed, looking away.  “People would always comment on them.  Whether it was making fun of them or even just admiring them.  It got irritating at some point.”

  You nod, understanding that he just didn’t want the attention.  But one question still floated around in your head.  “So, do you really hate them?”  The words were quiet.  You knew it would be a difficult question to answer.  He seemed like the type of person to close anyone out before they got too close to his true emotions.  You finally looked over at him. Again, he was staring at anything but you.

  A light blush dusted his cheeks.  After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally answered.  “I don’t hate them.  They’re actually kind of…”  He trails off into a mumble.  The blush on his cheeks got brighter as he spoke.

  “What?”  You questioned.  Instead of properly answering he looked away and mumbled again.  “Huh?”  You lean in closer, trying to figure out what he’s saying.  Still, he doesn’t look at you and mumbles again, getting so red you thought he was gonna pass out.  “You’re gonna have to speak up.  I can’t hear you.”

  “I think they’re cute, you idiot!”  His head whips around, so he can finally look you in the eyes.  Your noses brush against each other.  Both of you remain there.  Noses touching, too shocked to move.  You could feel his breath on your lips.  How had you gotten so close without realizing it.  Both of your faces were flushed.  Time seemed to come to a halt.  Was this it?  Was this the moment you forgave him and sealed your fate?

  “JUST KISS ALREADY!”  The sudden yell makes the both of you pull away.  When your head whips around to see who yelled, you see the whole team standing there.  Watching you.  Instead of them all continuing to stare at you and Tsukishima, they turn to scold the person who yelled.  It was another short player.  The one with a tuft of hair bleached in the front.  While everyone drags him back inside the gym, the one with grey hair waves and tells you to “carry on.”  Way to ruin the mood, guys.

  When you look back at Tsukishima he has a glare on his face.  This time it wasn’t aimed at you.  While he’s distracted, you take time to get a good look at his face.  There was still a light blush on his cheeks.  Though, it wasn’t clear if that was from embarrassment or anger right now.  His short, blond hair looked soft, and the way the light hit his eyes made them look beautiful.

  “Don’t you know that staring is rude,” his sudden interjection caught you off guard.  How long had you been staring?  You blushed again and backed up even more, almost falling off the bench.

  “I wasn’t staring!”  You denied, waving your arms in front of your face.  The embarrassment didn’t last long, because you noticed something on your arm.  “I’m sorry.  Forgive me?” was written neatly, with little stars surrounding it.  When you looked back at Tsukishima, he was turned away again.  Though, the blush was still obvious.

  Instead of responding verbally, you picked your pen up and wrote back to him.  “You are forgiven.” appeared on Tsukishima’s arm.  He was almost too embarrassed to notice it.  It was your turn to blush and look away.  Though, when he stands up suddenly, you look back up at him, slightly confused.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”  Before you can protest, your phone rings.  It’s a text from Yachi.  She says that you can keep her notebook for the night and give it back to her in the morning.  You smile.

  “Okay, let’s go.”  When you stand he snatches your pen again and speeds away.  “Hey!  Give that back!”  You quickly stand up and run after him, giggling.  Maybe your soulmate wasn’t such an asshole after all.

Taglist:

@yeet-these-hoez @steggy4ever

[yulmoldauer]

its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One

part 2

Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.

Chapter 1

Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.

Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.

Words: 1,968

Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!

There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.

Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.

“What are you, a fag?”

That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.

Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…

Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.

But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.

They still won the game, which was nice.

“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”

“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.

“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”

“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”

“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.

“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”

“Because it’s true!”

Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.

Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.

Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)

“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.

“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”

“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”

There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.

Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”

“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”

Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.

“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”

With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.

Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?

The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.

Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.

God, he needed to figure this out.

Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.

At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.

“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.

Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”

Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.

‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.

‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’

Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.

Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.

Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.

“You are blasted, man.”

“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”

“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”

Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.

“My face hurts.”

“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”

“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”

“Can’t. Someone already did.”

“You’re full of jokes, huh?”

Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.

“Would you just--”

“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.

“Dude.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”

“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.

“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”

“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.

“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”

Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.

“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.

“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.

“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.

“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”

“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.

“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.

“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.

For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.

He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.

“When did you get surgery?”

Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.

[redassassin]

a beautiful nightmare

part seven-> part eight 

Adrian had never been more confused in his life. As he listened to Nova’s retreating footsteps he mulled over the events of that night. Pros: Nova had accepted his invitation. She had agreed to dance with him, even saying that he was the only one she wanted to dance with. Cons: She had run away. Run away.

He shook it off. Nova was a very private person. It took a lot for her to trust anyone. But, maybe, if he showed her that he trusted her wholeheartedly, with their biggest secret, maybe she would trust him.

He made his way back to his bedroom and pulled out his sketchbook, doodling as he attempted to clear his mind. After about a half an hour his eyes started to droop and he closed it, lying back on his bed, drifting off into sleep.

He set out at the same time the next night, following the same path he had the night before, hoping to run into Nova. He paced through the halls, covering the same ground, one, two, three times. But Nova didn’t show. Finally, he made his way to the guards quarters, knocking on the door to Nova’s room. A loud sound echoed through the room, as if something had been knocked off the bed. He heard a muffled curse, followed by the frantic shuffling of papers and the clinking of metal. Footsteps padded towards the door, and it squeaked open, a flustered Nova standing on the threshold. She started when she realised that it was him, opening her mouth as if to speak.

“I want to show you something.” He said, holding out his hand to her. He froze, remembering how she had pulled away last night, and drew his hand back, clearing his throat. “Sorry. Uh, would you come with me? There’s something I think you would be interested in.” She nodded, stepping out of her room and closing the door. Adrian led her through the castle, down towards the basement. He heard Nova pause, and he turned back to see an odd expression on her face. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that it was fear. He shook it off, offering her a small smile.

“You okay?”

She nodded, speeding up so that she was standing beside him. “So, where are we going?”

“Where are we going?”

He stopped beside a torch, pressing the red R that decorated the base. The sound of grinding stone filled the air and a passage opened up. It was dark, and Adrian sketched a torch and held it out to her.

She stared, open-mouthed at the passage as she grabbed the torch, stepping hesitantly into the tunnel.

“To see a friend.”

They made their way along the tunnel, and Adrian could hear Nova’s shallow breathing beside him. He tried to focus on anything else, the sound of their footsteps, how much longer it would take to get to Max, or the flickering of the torch in her hand. It illuminated her face, casting shadows over it. It took too much restraint for Adrian to not grab her hand and press another gentle kiss against her knuckles. Her shallow breathing reminded him of how much he wanted to press her up against the wall and kiss her until they were both gasping for air. But he couldn’t, and never would. He would wait for her, no matter how long it took.

Nova paused as they reached the end of the corridor. She glanced up at him, a question behind her eyes. He pushed open the door, revealing a spiraling staircase and a ceiling made of glass. She stared up in awe, following him as he made his way up the staircase.

“What is this place?” She asked as she took in the sight.

“You’ll see in just a second. He’s through here.” He led her up the staircase and through a trapdoor in the ceiling to reveal a small room separated by a glass wall from the rest of the tower. Adrian pulled a small cord hanging near them and a bell rang through the tower. A small figure appeared from a trapdoor in the ceiling. Adrian smiled, calling out through the glass.

“Max! Come meet Nova. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.” Nova stiffened beside him, looking up at him in apprehension. “Insomnia, meet the Bandit. Max, this is Nova! She joined us a little over a month ago.”

Nova was examining the tower. “Are you trapped in here?”

“Nova-”

Max interrupted him. “It’s fine. It’s not safe for me to be around other people, and I can see everything from here. Plus, I get visitors all the time. It’s not so bad.”

She still looked skeptical, but he assured her that Max had a want for nothing and had company throughout the day, as well as a view of the courtyard and access to the library and anything else he could want to stay busy. He watched her as she nodded slowly, her brow still furrowed.

“Why isn’t it safe for you to be around other people?”

“It’s- uh… classified?”

Nova raised her eyebrows. “Right, I guess I forgot who I was talking to.”  The bitterness in her voice was evident, and Adrian stared at the floor, partly embarrassed, and partly to hide his own bitterness.

“Can I show her the model?”

Adrian waved his question away. “It’s your model, Max. I don’t care what you do with it.”

Max squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating hard as a blanket rose from the ground, revealing a glittering glass model of the city. He heard Nova draw in a sharp breath next to him, walking closer to the model and squatting down next to the glass partition, her hand against it for balance.

“That stall is in the wrong place. It should be next to the blacksmith, over there, and the one behind it should take its place.”

She looked up to see Max and Adrian staring at her in confusion.

“What? I spend a lot of time in the city. There’s only so much I can do to keep entertained when I’m awake 24/7.”

The glass buildings rose, moving to their corrected places.

“Any more corrections, Insomnia?” Adrian laughed, but she gave him a stern look and pointed back at the glass city.

“I’m guessing you had a big part in this?” She smirked when he nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here. That row is all wrong. It should be there,” She pointed to a spot nearby, and those over there should be here.” Max began to move the objects, grinning at Adrian’s expression.

He watched as Nova continued to correct the city. She was so sure of herself, pointing out his mistakes without a second glance, even naming the names of buildings and businesses and streets, as she directed him.

“Listen, Nova. You can’t tell anyone that I brought you here. The only people who know are Ruby, Danna, and Oscar, and the Council of course, and the people who care for him. We would both get in so much trouble if they knew that I brought you here.” She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it and simply nodded. She finished her corrections to the city and stood up, brushing her hands off on her pants.

“I should go, there was something I wanted to finish working on tonight.” She offered him a small smile, her hand brushing against his arm as she passed him. “Thank you for this.”

“Want me to walk you back?” He said, hope in every tone of his voice, but she shook her head, and he deflated.

“I’ll be okay. Spend some more time with Max. I have a feeling he might have a few requests for new figurines.”

She exited through the trapdoor, and the second it closed Max started to laugh, and Adrian flinched at the loud echo.

“Dude, could you be any more obvious? Your face lights up when she just barely looks at you.” Max shook his head, grinning at the panic on Adrian’s face.

“You couldn’t wait until she was at least out of the tower? She might hear you,” He hissed.

“She knows, Adrian. You have nothing left to hide, except maybe how the hell you gave yourself more powers.”

Adrian gaped at him, his brain momentarily blank. “What- I- How- That’s. . . not me?’

Max scoffed. “I’m not stupid, Adrian. So, tattoos? Is that how you did it?”

“What- How?” Max pointed at his sleeve, which had ridden up and revealed the bottom of the flame tattoo. Glaring, he yanked his sleeve back over the tattoo.

“So you haven’t told anyone?” Max asked.

Adrian shook his head. “Danna got hurt, and you know the Council would never allow it. Who knows what they’d do to stop me from becoming the Sentinel, especially after everything that happened with Nightmare. I was stuck on that rooftop for hours. You have no idea the kind of lecture I got when I finally got back.”

“Actually, I do. The Captain was here right after, complaining about how unprofessional you were, and how you didn’t even look like you were listening. Distracted by thoughts of your giiiiirlfriend?” He drew out the word, a mocking tone prevalent.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and no. I was actually thinking about how I could have killed Danna, and I was worried about Nova. She disappeared at the beginning of the fight, and didn’t return for hours. But she’s fine, and they say that Danna will be too.”

“I watched the battle, you know.” He pointed out the window in the general direction of the rooftop where the fight had been. The Dread Warden brought me binoculars so I could watch the city. It was awful, watching the fight, and I didn’t even know it was you. Watching the flame jump between the butterflies, I thought it would take them all.” Adrian shuddered.

Below them, the trapdoor opened again, and Nova poked her head through.

Adrian bristled. How much had she heard? He examined her expression, but if she had heard anything, it didn’t show.

“Hey again,” He said, smiling at her. She smiled back, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey. Uh, can we talk?” She was staring down at her feet, refusing to look at him. He turned to look at Max, who just grinned, giving him a thumbs up as he began to levitate over his glass city.

“Yeah. Do you want to take a walk?” She nodded, turning away from Max and the quarantine, shuffling her feet a little as she walked towards the steps. She had grabbed her toolbelt from her room, and it hung loosely around her waist. She wore a light jacket over a tank top, and as she walked, her jacket slipped off her shoulder, revealing a long red cut on her arm. It looked fresh, and she grimaced as it was exposed to the cold air. She shrugged it back on to her shoulder, shaking her head at his confused expression. Max, however gasped from behind them, followed by the distinct sound of shattering glass and a cry of pain. Nova spun around next to him, running towards the doors to the quarantine before he could stop her. She threw open the doors and ran towards him, pulling something out of her toolbelt.

“Nova! You need to get out of there, it’s not safe!” He yelled, but Nova ignored him. She picked her way towards Max. She was almost there when she gasped, her brow furrowing. She stumbled, falling to one knee, as she shook her head, rubbing her forehead and yawning. She tried to stand, but the pull of Max’s power was too much. She slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

Adrian only paused for a second, before tearing open the door and following Nova into the quarantine. He scooped her up, carrying her out of the quarantine, jumping with the springs on his feet. 10 steps. 9. 6. His fingers started to ache, as if all his strength was being drained. He wondered how much of his power Max would have. How much of Nova’s? Would she have to sleep now?

2 steps. 1. He threw himself over the threshold, slamming the door behind him, before collapsing to the ground. Nova lay beside him, her breathing shallow as her eyelids twitched. He watched her as she dreamt, but turned away a second later. He wouldn’t like to have someone watching him as he slept, so he waited patiently beside her as medics rushed in to the quarantine after he had run the emergency bell that was just inside the door. He waved them away, signaling that he was fine, and that Nova was only asleep, and neither of them had been in there long enough to do any serious damage.

He leaned over Nova, shaking her shoulder in an attempt to wake her. No response. He tried again, and a few seconds later, she awoke. She awoke not as one generally did, with yawns and sleepy eyes, but with a small shriek. She was shaking, her eyes filling with tears. She scrambled away from, leaning against the wall, her head buried in her knees. Her breathing was fast, and a small sob escaped her mouth. He offered her his hand, and she took it, lacing their fingers together. He sat next to her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. He squeezed her hand, offering her what comfort he could.

“I’m okay.”

“What happened?”

She paused, and shook her head slowly. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay. You showed me Max, you deserve to know.” Nova took a shaky breath. “When I was six, I stopped sleeping. But it wasn’t by choice. My father was famous among the villain gangs during the age of anarchy, for his weapon-making. They went to him, threatened him with his life. He complied, for our sake as well as his own. He always hated what he did for them, and after a while he couldn’t take it anymore, seeing his creations used to hurt people like that. So he went to the Council, begged for help. And they promised their help, as long as he stopped. And he did. And when he stopped, they sent someone after us. I watched my mother fall right in front of me> Her blood splattered on my face. My father was shot before he could even scream. With his last words he told me to run. And so I did. I ran and hid in my closet. Too late I remembered my sister. I prayed that she wouldn’t wake up, that she would stay asleep, but she woke up and began to cry and there was another gunshot and she was dead. I hid in my closet, trying not to breath, hoping that someone would save me before he found me too. But he did find me. And so I-” She paused, taking a deep breath. “My uncle showed up, killed the man, saving me. After that, every time I closed my eyes, I heard the gunshots blasting through my head and the echoes of my sisters last cry.”

“Nova, I’m-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded, and she leaned her head on his shoulder again, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Can we go now?” They stood, letting go of each other’s hands as they walked down the stairs and out of the tower.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” He said. “I’d still like to dance with you, but only if you want to. Please don’t feel pressured because of who I am.”

“I’ll be there.” She gave him a small smile, and Adrian flushed.

“See you later?” She nodded, and he brushed another kiss against her knuckles.

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