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dinnerbug · 2 hours ago
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Tl;dr: I'm awful at mathematics but I'm pretty sure that's like. The same as saying "the average amount of women, children, and men, in the civilian population have been killed. We're just not talking about the men. That's the 30% we're ignoring"
I'm no expert on statistics so I guess do your own research and don't take what I say as anything other than a vague estimate but
I googled 'percentage of the world's population that are children'. It said around 25%
And percentage of female humans is obviously about 50%
Now I can't be bothered to check if that's right but assuming half of children are female I reckon that's at the very least 62% that are considered 'women and children'?
And this is going off world statics, not Palestine statistics, which are probably a bit wonky right now because you know, THEY'RE ALL DEAD, so numbers are probably a bit different
But I'd say that's close enough to 70 to say the BBC fucking sucks and all they're good for is making TV shows
EDIT 5 FUCK I THINK I'M BAD AT MATHS AGAIN I'M HAVING A CRISIS DOWN HERE. THE POINT STILL STANDS. IF YOU PUT ADULT WOMEN AND CHILDREN TOGETHER THEY OUTNUMBER ADULT MEN
Edit 3, most important: remembered the thing I think I forgot. I don't think female children come under the women category because they're children. In which case wouldn't it be like 75%? That's worse
You don't need to read anything under this but continue if you want to see confusion
Second edit but here because it's more important, I am definitely wrong, but in a bad way it think. I am quite sure I forgot something. It's one in the morning for me and my awful sleep schedule has horribly affected my brain's ability to function. If anyone is good at maths or knows someone who is please tag them or correct me
Point still stands BBC is shit just shut up and make doctor who episodes pls BBC
(edited rn but I think I'm wrong??????? I might look like an actual fool here unless I'm just wrong about being wrong. But I think I'm just wrong. I didn't think very hard about this I am so sorry please PLEASE check yourself before believing this is how statistics work. Please. Don't believe Internet randos and somebody please correct me politely if I got this so so wrong)
How casual you treat brown people being murdered. How casual you treat the torture of brown men. May the earth swallow you. One day these decades of oppression will end and Arab boys will sing.
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dsireland86 · 2 days ago
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Hi am sorry for Bothering you but can you do one of nick Folio and he and yn Has been married for long time and he noticed something off and she wakes up In the middle of the night because of pts dreams of sexual assault and he comfort her
First, you're never a bother for putting a request in, no matter how many times. (don't get me wrong, there are limits and lines not to reach or cross) This is a good one. I had a friend who had to deal with something like this and her boyfriend was her biggest support. As a victim of sexual assault myself, I know what it feels like.
There are warnings with this one, so if anyone still deals with trauma, please don't read.
18+ below the cut
You're Safe Now
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Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers
The dreams were always the same. The results were always the same; sitting straight up in bed, cold sweats, crying, shaking, the whole deal.
She's had them ever since I married her two years ago. The first night it happened, it really rattled me. She wouldn't let me touch her, only huddled up and cried until she fell back asleep. I tucked her in and curled up beside her, watching her eyes flutter beneath her closed eyelids. When morning came, she didn’t remember what happened; at least that’s what she said. 
This went on for some time. I never asked questions, I was just there. Eventually, she allowed me to touch her; small circles on her back, caressing the back of her hair, until she would fall over and into my lap and fall back asleep. It was a small step, but a great improvement.
After about a year into our marriage, though, things took a turn. Our sex life started to shift. She was no longer into it, excited about it or needing it like I was. I felt horrible each time I tried to get her in the mood or aroused. She would make excuses or purposely make herself unavailable.
Some nights, it felt forced, but she was never mean about it. She would tell me she was doing it for me and that her disinterest in it didn't mean she didn't love me. I believed her, but it hurt just the same. I tried to be understanding as best as I could, but at the same time, my heart was hurting.
I begged her to open up and talk to me, to let me in and help, but she wouldn't. So, I took a step back with hope that eventually she'd open up to me, but when that moment came, what she confessed was not at all what I was prepared to hear, but it made sense and everything about her, between us, became clearer.
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She gasped and sat up in bed, soaked in a cold sweat. At first, she didn't know where she was. Through the dark, she felt around her as if searching for something or someone, sighing when she finally felt it.
Folio stirred in his sleep, turning over instantly the moment he felt her hand on his back and the soft whispers of his name.
"Nick, wake up, please," she nudged him gently.
"I am, sweetheart, I'm awake," he said sleepily. "What's wrong?"
Folio sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, quickly turning back to his wife, who was sitting with her knees pulled up into her, shivering. He caressed her back gently, just like many times before, feeling utterly exhausted. Folio sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Nick, we need to talk."
"Okay, sure. What about?"
She turned to him, tears streaming down her face.
"About my past."
Folio sat the cup of tea down carefully on the table in front of her. The steam coming off of it was clearly visible as she thanked him, then wrapped her hands around the hot mug, sighing and closing her eyes in relief from the warmth.
He sat there quietly, watching her intently, wondering what it was about her past that could be so important. She cleared her throat and finally met Nick's gaze, eyes already swelling up with tears.
Her heart was breaking over how badly she'd been treating him, knowing that none of what happened to her years ago was his her husband's fault. And yet, despite how horrible she felt she'd been to him, he stayed by her, supporting and loving her.
"Nick, I'm sorry. I've been so unfair to you the past few months. I've... I've denied you things that, as my husband, are rightfully yours, and you've never once questioned me or pushed me away. Why?"
Folio scratched his nose and rubbed his jaw, trying to find the words that would make sense to her.
"I love you. I made promises to you. Till death do us part, right," he chuckled, smiling lightly at her. "You're my person, babe," he reached over and took her hand, which she gladly gave him.
Taking a deep breath, she relaxed a little, confident that Nick was going to be understanding about what she was about to tell him.
"Talk to me, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Two years before we met, I had this group of friends; three guys and two girls. It was a summer thing, you know the kind where it’s the last summer of high school together before graduation and you wanted it to be a summer to remember, kind of thing. We hung out every chance we got. Two of them were somewhat couples. They made out, had sex, you know, did all the normal teenage stuff. I wasn't like that, I was too shy and uncomfortable with myself, my body, and so inexperienced that I just kept to myself in those awkward moments."
Glancing at her husband, she gave him a half-hearted smile as he reached over and wiped away the single tear that slid down her cheek.
"My, my look how far you've come, my little mouse," Folio grinned. “Not so inexperienced now, are you?”
His pet name for her lightened her heart to the point that she got up and sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.
"I've missed you."
"I know. I'm sorry. I know you don't understand."
Folio brushed stray hairs out of her face.
"Then help me understand. Keeping going."
"Okay, so one night while our other friends were doing what they were doing, the other guy in our group, the one that I wasn't the most familiar with, began to notice me. He made some passes at me and made me feel at ease. I was so vulnerable and didn't know anything about guys, so when he told me I was pretty, that I had so much to offer guys, I believed him."
She paused, lowering her head. Folio was starting to catch on.
"Did he hurt you?"
"...Yes."
"Fuck," Folio sighed. "For how long?"
"... ... ... the remaining three weeks of summer break."
Folio clenched his jaw, shaking his head.
"Did he rape you?"
"No... at least I don't think so."
Folio took her by the shoulders, staring her hard in the eyes.
"What do you mean you don't think so?"
She shrugged.
"He touched me, made me do things to him, and if I did well, he'd reward me."
Folio ran his hand down his face, trying to reel in his anger.
“What a sick piece of shit. Did he fuck you without your consent?"
She was quiet, unable to look at him now. She was terrified that her husband was angry with her for hiding this, for holding back on telling him.
"One night, we had all been drinking way too much. I remember I was so dizzy that I literally fell into the couch at the place we were hanging out at. All I remember is being picked up and laid back down. I woke up the next morning in just my panties and shirt. "
By now, she was crying. It was one thing to say it to herself, in her mind, but it was another thing to finally confess it all out in the open.
Folio pulled his wife into his chest, holding tightly close. The fact that the whole time they'd been dating and married, she carried this burden around with her, completely and utterly alone. It broke his heart that the girl he was madly in love with had to suffer that way in silence because of fear.
"What triggered all of this; the dreams, the ptsd from all of that mess?"
"I saw him. It was about a month and a half ago. He's married, too, and has two kids. He looked right at me and either didn't recognize me or pretended not to know me. It's like he saw right through me. I can't explain how it made me feel, Nick. It broke me."
More tears fell, and she was trembling, not from the cold, but from the stress of it all. Her crying turned into silent sobs, and her shoulders shook as she bent over in the chair, dropping her head into her hands.
It all made sense to Folio now, piecing together the details, and when she started acting so strange. She'd been triggered by the memories that she'd worked so hard to suppress and forget about through the years since it all happened, and it affected her in ways she never expected. She was a ticking time bomb to a mental breakdown.
Folio dropped to his knees in front of her, placing his hands gently on the sides of her legs. He sat there for a moment, not knowing what to say at first. He just laid his forehead against her knees, listening to her cry out her pain. After a few moments, he looked up after she'd grown quiet.
"Baby, look at me."
She raised her eyes, looking at her husband through blurry eyes. There he was, the only man that mattered, the only man who truly loved her for her, no matter her past.
Folio's eyes darted between his wife's as she stared back at him. The past was the past, yes, but what was the reason why she pushed him away?
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I don't know. I guess all I wanted to do was forget about it, and I suppose for a long time I did. The past was the past; I couldn't change any of it."
She wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
"I'm sorry for hurting you, Nick. I'm sorry I pushed you away and made you feel unloved. I never meant to. I was just scared."
Folio's brows creased as he frowned in confusion.
"Scared of what?"
"That you'd be upset with me for keeping something like that from you, or that you wouldn't understand, or that you'd tell me it's what I deserved because of the scenario I put myself in. I was a stupid, naive kid. I didn't know any better."
Folio shook his head, rising up on his knees, taking her face in his hands.
"That's what your dad and brother did to you, isn't it? They didn't really believe you."
She nodded, tearing up again.
Folio's heart sank. He clenched his jaw to suppress his anger.
"Sweetheart, listen to me. What happened to you was not your fault, do you understand me? It wasn't your fault. That piece of shit deserves to burn in fucking hell for what he did to you.
I would never, in a million years, say anything like what your dad and brother said. They were wrong; so wrong. They should have defended you, protected you, and I'm so sorry that they didn't."
Folio choaked up, trying to hold back his tears. He pulled his wife into him, gathering her up in his arms and holding her as close to him as possible. She clung to him, burying her face in the side of his neck, finally feeling secured wrapped up in the arms of the man who promised to love her forever.
"You're safe now, baby; I promise you. No one's gonna ever hurt you like that again."
Pulling away from her, Folio brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her.
"You believe me, right?"
"Yes. I believe you," she nodded, giving him a small smile.
He held her again, and she gratefully allowed him to, both of them finally feeling the peace they'd been craving for. 
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the-cinnamon-snail · 2 years ago
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oceanwithouthermoon · 7 months ago
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i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,
if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."
i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,
i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason
#crazy that the mindset some people on here have is that theyre the only ones allowed to post their opinions#ive repeated this a lot on this blog but i rlly think people forget that the person on the other side of the screen is in fact a person#if ur harassing people and publicly making fun of them then ur just as bad as any real life bully#that shit isnt as funny or harmless as u like to pretend it is#not once have i ever targetted anyone or went on someones blog to harass them over my opinion#yet people think its fine to do the same to me and treat it as if its like. revenge or something#like ? me saying 'i dont like toxic yaoi' is not equivalent to someone going on someone elses page and going 'how tf do u like toxic yaoi'#I DONT CARE !! all ive ever done is sit in my own little bubble and had opinions and that makes people mad#honestly though the people who will publicly talk and post abt it are significantly meaner#and i want to act like im not bothered by it because i know most of them r just angry that someone has a different opinion#and they want all their followers to bandwagon off of them (idk why maybe for validation or whatever-same reasons anyone would bully)#but seriously if u actually do think that something i said was out of line and crossed thise boundaries- just fucking tell me ?#im a person bro. ur solution to disagreeing with me shouldnt be 'lol im gonna post abt this and make everyone harass them'#have a conversation with me dude i dont bite ? if u cant talk to me like a person then just dont fucking say anything wtf#its so cowardly to be like 'well no i didnt wanna say anything to u cuz i didnt wanna be rude.. so instead i publicly made fun of u!'#LIKE WHATTTT STOPPPPP </3333#ok anyway this post wasnt supposed to get THAT serious.#MY POINT IS just be considerate of other people and dont base ur hatred off of assumptions#ur deflecting the blame onto someone else because u dont want to admit that ur just a fucking bully lol#being inconsiderate on here is something ive also been guilty of back when i first joined the fandom and was clueless#but grown ass adults who have been on here way longer r still doing that shit which is crazy#and i cant say anything because they have so much leverage over me and idk if its on purpose or if they dont even realize#ok im putting fandom tags cuz i want people to see this sorry. this is my one post thats actually targetted but its at a lot of people#so if u look at this and think 'hey i do that' pls evaluate urself<3#i mean its also targetted at everyone who does this anonomously so i dont know who it is OKOK IM DONE BYE SORRY HOPE THIS IS UNDERSTANDABLE#watch nobody read this fr#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#meows post
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biowho · 4 months ago
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Im curious why you did not get into trouble by sharing pdfs? I assume youre what they say BNF... or is your cat really one hell of a charmer people instantly forgot there are pdfs in proximity?
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Dear listener I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. I simply have shared a picture of my adorable spherical roommate Caduceus that just so happens to be in a folder with a few non-consequential files that have absolutely nothing to do with anything I post about that I have expressly asked people not to open and to ignore
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ao3screenshotss · 6 months ago
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context: hugo's from like... nicos time or smth
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waterfallofspace · 1 year ago
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Ah!!! I love your fics so much!! If it's not too much, could I request some kink!skk (with chuuya as the victim haha >:)
prompts:
86,82,30,24
Thank you, and I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this!!! (hooopefully it'll be worth it <3)
This one did take a bit to write, but I had a lot of fun with it, kink D/azai is really fun to play around with hehe~ I had a bunch of ideas of how he might react, and I tried to pick one that fit the narrative the prompts set up~ Hope you enjoy!
2.5k words, prompts 24, 30, 83, 86, story under cut!
24. “You’re a complete mess, but I don’t care.” 30. “What’s got you all worked up?” 82. Sneezing during makeout/sex.  86. Person A sneezes and catches B blushing and asks. B decides to tell them about the kink.
(References to swearing, light violence, and heavy makeout session, no actual super smutty things, but there is an implication that it will take place post-story, in case you don't like any of that!)
~~~~~~~
“Fuck.” 
It scrapes off Chuuya’s tongue, a headache forming as he surveys the sight awaiting him. After a quick scan, his eyes rest on Dazai. The walking annoyance simply smirks, tilting back in his chair. The hinges scream with a fury Chuuya can relate to. 
“Quite the foul greeting. Whatever happened to hello?” Dazai remarks, standing from the chair with another awful screech. Chuuya feels his fists clench, stepping back involuntarily. This seems to delight Dazai, the impulse to throw something pulsing through Chuuya’s mind. 
“I have information about a case you guys took that the Port Mafia was… loosely involved in.” 
Chuuya attempts to lean against the wall in a show of nonchalance, Dazai’s expression remaining unreadable as ever. With a hard swallow, Chuuya fights the urge to sniffle as it spreads through his rapidly twitching nose. There's a slightly sweet scent lingering in the air. 
Clearing his throat, Chuuya breaks the silence with a noticeably stuffier, “Where’s your boss?”
“Out,” Dazai flaunts, gesturing around the empty office and leaning against the wall as his arms lock behind his head. 
As the ability to smell starts to fade, Chuuya feels his patience wear thin, each breath growing thick. “Kunikida then?”
“Out.”
“Kenji?” 
Desperation starts to flood his voice as Chuuya lets a single finger flick across the bridge of his nose. Another sniffle threatens to break through, only being held back as Dazai points a look his way. 
Chuuya attempts to avoid it, but eventually caves, the grin meeting him sending shivers of irritation shooting through each nerve until they reach a final resting spot at the tip of his nose. With a final twitch, the tickle that had been waiting on the sideline decides it’s time for a debut. 
“It’s Chuuya’s lucky day, I’m the only one around! That means you get the honour of telling me your ‘important information’.” Seemingly oblivious to the struggles, Dazai continues with his taunts. “Don’t worry, I’ll pass it along,”
“No fucking way. I’ll- hehh.. I’ll cohhme… come back another time.” 
“Really, Chuuya? And risk Mori being disappointed in you? I mean, he did tell you it was urgent, did he not?” Dazai coos, spinning on his heel and gliding back to his desk. He shoots Chuuya a grin over his shoulder. “Do you really wanna defy his direct order?” 
A snarl nips at Chuuya’s lip, retort dying on his tongue as the itch swells once more. Dazai’s still facing the desk, starting to lower himself into the chair, and Chuuya waits until the hinges screech again, hiding his- “hh’kngt-!” under the noise. 
“You should get that shit fixed,” Chuuya says, feigning annoyance as Dazai’s eyes light up. ‘If I make him believe it’s getting to me, he’ll screech it a few more times just to get on my nerves.’ Breath catching, Chuuya brushes a knuckle against his nose, meeting Dazai’s eye with a growl. “It’s fucking irritating.” 
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed!” 
The statement is punctuated with another creak, Dazai swivelling around to face the window. Taking the opportunity, Chuuya ducks into his fist for a tight stifle, another slipping out on its heels. 
“ek’dnxt-! nkXT’shh-!” 
Risking a glance towards the chair, Chuuya grits his teeth as Dazai stares back. Caught in the act his fist drops onto the table, pouring into a seat across the desk from the bastard. Dazai’s eyes never leave his own. There’s something in them that seems almost captivated. 
As Chuuya’s own chair squeaks in objection, he’d swear Dazai mumbled something that sounded like ‘bless’ under his breath. Eyebrow raising, he sputters, “Wh- what was that?” 
Dazai opens his mouth, nothing but a breath cutting into the tense silence. Chuuya simply blinks, shock radiating through his mind. It seems this is equally surprising to Dazai, his eyes widening. With more effort than Chuuya’s comfortable noticing, Dazai pulls a masked grin back over his cheeks.
“I asked if something’s bothering Chuuya?” 
“Shut up you bastard,” Chuuya returns. Right back to furious, the hesitation forgotten, he lets out a low growl. Dazai smirks at this, raising an eyebrow as Chuuya opens his mouth to speak again. 
Any words that may have been on their way are replaced by hitching, hand snapping to his nose to catch it just a second too late. Another shaky breath spills out, Chuuya not missing the way Dazai flinches at the display. He’s never been one to care about germs, the uncertainty making the situation feel tense. 
Aiming towards his shoulder, Chuuya stifles the first two, “hn’kgxtt-! eh’knXT-!” before a wave of itch breaks through his defenses for a final “eh’kESHhh’iuu-!” 
A gloved hand is raised the instant it breaks through, but he’s not quick enough to stifle. With a sharp breath, Chuuya prepares to fight off the onslaught of remarks. Instead, his attention is drawn to Dazai’s demeanor. The bastard seems unable to meet Chuuya’s eyes, teeth digging into his lip with a ferocity that seems almost painful.
“What’s got you all worked up?” Slips out before Chuuya can stop it. The comment seems to hit like a bullet, Dazai’s posture shifting to that of a cornered animal. It’s not an uncommon look among the Port Mafia, but Dazai has never shared it. He’s always in control, at all times, in any situation.
“Just…” Dazai starts, an unsettling level of calm appearing to settle over him, the tension just below the surface impossible for Chuuya to ignore. Dazai continues with his complaint, either oblivious to the shake in his voice, or all too aware. “Thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do since you told me about this.” 
“You do realize I have- uh… I haven’t actually tohhld…” Chuuya feels his breath catch, attempting to power through as his voice wavers dangerously. “hehhh- have… haven’t… hnk-! guhh… Actually told you ahhnything.” 
Chuuya scans the room again, each inhale seeming to bring a new rush of irritation. Finally his eyes land on the vase sitting on Ranpo’s desk. A vase overflowing with white flowers that seem to glow against the dark offices. Dazai attempts to follow his gaze, a smirk forming as he notices where it leads. 
“Shit.” Chuuya hisses, just the look of them making his eyes water. 
“What’s wrong Chuuya?” Dazai purrs, swooping around the desk to sit right in front of the struggling man. Chuuya attempts to throw a punch, but Dazai easily dodges it, laughter flooding his next comment. “You have a problem with something so dainty?”
“Huh!? You- that’s… that’s not… I don’t… hehHh- fuhhck… ahHh!” 
His hand begins lifting, aiming to pinch his nose again. Before it can reach the target, Chuuya feels Dazai’s hand against his bare arm. He flinches at the sudden contact, feeling the powerlessness surge through him as his gift is sucked away. 
It’s followed by a secondary wave of deeper vulnerability. The kind that he knows would remain even if his gift wasn’t suppressed. A kind that comes from the unexplainably personal way Dazai’s skin feels against his own. Dazai remains perfectly still, eyes locked with Chuuya’s. 
“What the fuck are you-” Chuuya starts, cutting himself off as Dazai simply blinks. Before he has a chance to continue, Chuuya feels the tickle object to the interruption. 
One hand still being occupied, he ducks into his un-held wrist with a sneeze he’s only able to half stifle. “eh’kxnshhh’oo-!” The next breaks free completely, “hah’kiESHhh’oo-! Fuck-” a curse following on it’s tail. A third begins to form, but it’s held off by the audible whimper that breaks from Dazai’s flushed face. 
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Chuuya gawks, his mouth falling open. The itch long forgotten as Dazai studies the floor with increasing intensity. He mutters something barely audible above the faint hum of the office. 
Huffing, Chuuya spits a harsh, “Speak up, you moron.” 
Dazai pales, his blush darkening. He manages to drag his eyes from the floor, resting them in Chuuya’s. There’s a nervous energy to him that leaves Chuuya breathless. 
“I like it better when you let them out.” The response is louder this time, but still quiet for Dazai.
“Let them…?” Chuuya questions, mind scrambling to put the pieces together under Dazai’s intense gaze. His nose decides to rush the process, the tickle blooming once more. A shudder runs through his nose as it quivers, breath catching in his throat. Across from him, Dazai’s entire body twitches in response. ‘Oh?’ 
“hk’iiESHHh’oo-!” 
Aiming this one for his wrist again, Chuuya allows it to escape completely unstifled. Testing a theory. Sure enough Dazai hisses out a faint moan. ‘Oh.’ The grip on Chuuya’s arm tightens as he lets another hitch build, Dazai practically shivering. It dies before reaching his nose, leaving Chuuya almost as breathless as Dazai. 
“Really?” Chuuya taunts, flashing Dazai a wicked look. 
“I know it’s… not normal…”
“What part of our lives is fucking ‘normal’ Dazai? Hell, what part of us is normal?” 
Relief floods Dazai’s eyes, quickly replaced by something cautious as Chuuya stands. ‘This is something I can, and intend, to use.’ Sweeping over to Ranpo’s desk, Chuuya can feel Dazai’s eyes clinging to him. Almost as if the man himself was pressed against his back, despite not moving from his position. 
Leaning towards the vase Chuuya takes a deep sniff, coughing slightly as the pollen invades his sinuses. A fierce tickle burns through his nose, lashes fluttering as tears begin to pool. He barely gets a breath before ducking into his hands to stifle the fit. 
“hn’chh-! ih’knxgt-! hh’dnxxt-!” 
The stifles lift Dazai to his feet, pausing to give Chuuya a measured look. Chuuya shoots back a smirk, nearly drowned out by the desperation in his eyes as his lip curls before another “ek’dtnxt-! hh’inGT-!” break through. 
Before he can take another breath Chuuya finds himself being pushed against the desk, Dazai leaning over him. His hands are pulled away, passion burning through Dazai’s eyes, tongue slipping out between his lips.
“Hol- hold on… hehh… I’m… hahHh!” 
“I know,” Dazai responds, guiding Chuuya’s head towards his neck. 
“heh’IIESHh’oo-! hk’ehhSHHh’oo-!” Dazai bites his lip, a moan stifling itself in his throat as Chuuya buries his nose into the bare skin of his neck. 
“ek’yIESSHhh’oo-!” Shivers of pleasure run down Dazai’s spine as each- “hh’ehhKSHHh’oo-!” leaves him trembling. Chuuya smirks again as he pulls back, rubbing at his nose with a glove and sniffling desperately. 
“If I’d known this is all it took to get the Great Dazai so worked up, I would’ve done it ages ago.” Chuuya taunts, meeting Dazai’s gaze through watering eyes. 
Dazai pauses for a second, humming faintly under his breath, before a look floods his eyes. A grin claws its way over his face, Dazai practically baring his teeth. Chuuya braces himself, sucking in a breath just in time to be pulled off the desk. The breath is released in the form of a moan as Dazai slams him into the wall. 
The force knocks the wind out of him, Chuuya dragging his hands up Dazai’s hips to gain some balance as he catches his breath. Dazai takes this moment to seize Chuuya’s lips, as if he was claiming them for his own. 
Unable to draw air through his battered sinuses, Chuuya groans as the sensation brings the tickle surging to new heights. He pulls his hand off Dazai’s back, placing it on his chest with a shove, releasing himself from the kiss. 
Dazai huffs in protest, Chuuya responding with a shaky inhale, a tear falling from his lashes. It runs down his cheek, caressing the side of his nose as it flees. The desperation from his gasp leaves Dazai shaking, his teeth sinking back against his lip. 
“Neck.” 
The command isn’t answered, but it wasn’t designed to be. Instead, Chuuya merely gasps, aiming where he’s told as the fit begins anew. 
“hehhYIIESHhh’oo-! hehh- huh! hk’iieESHhh’oo-!”
“Bless you-” Dazai growls, head tilted back as Chuuya pulls him closer, rubbing his quivering nose against Dazai’s chin. The action comes with a moan of relief, Dazai echoing the noise with a different type of moan. 
“Oh god- heh’TESHhhoo-! Fucking hell… hahh- hek’DESHHhhoo-! Whew…” Chuuya feels a blush start to spread over his cheeks as he gets a breath in. “That was… hH’IESHhoo-! oh… a bit intense…” 
“Now who’s worked up?” Dazai taunts, offering a smug look at the new tint. 
Chuuya growls lightly in response, usually a sign of playful annoyance. However, they both notice how he seems to pull away slightly, tipping his hat to hide his face. Dazai lets a hand brush against his arm, retreating when he flinches under the contact.
Instead, Dazai brings a finger to Chuuya’s chin, tilting it up till their eyes meet. Chuuya watches the sincerity dancing in his gaze, something unfamiliar, but not frightening. They stay like that for a moment, drifting along in the connection. 
“You’re a complete mess, but I don’t care. Chuuya is my mess.” 
It’s such casual genuineness, and Chuuya finds himself unsure how to handle it. Dazai doesn’t waver, his fingers gently tracing up the side of Chuuya’s face until they brush the hat from his head, letting it fall to the ground. Before he has to figure out what to say, Chuuya feels the tickle bloom once more, and decides to lean into it. 
He locks onto Dazai’s lips, pulling their hips together, hands scratching at Dazai’s back as a shudder runs through them both. Chuuya’s breath hitches from inside the kiss, Dazai moaning against his lips in return. 
Waiting till the last second, Chuuya breaks away to aim down at Dazai’s chest- “hek’iiEISHh’oo-!” -before pulling him back in again. Responding in kind, Dazai knocks him back against the wall, pining his hands above his head. Chuuya buries his face back in Dazai’s neck as another “hehh- eh’tiESSHHhhoo-!” rushes out. 
They repeat this cycle a few more times, hips grinding together as each sneeze wracks Chuuya’s body, shivers beginning to melt the last ounce of Dazai’s composure. Finally with a final “ah’YIESHhhoo-!” Chuuya pulls back, a wicked fire dancing in his eyes. Both of them are panting, for different and yet similar reasons. 
Dazai breaks first, his voice low and harsh, “Couch.”
“No way in hell,” Chuuya retorts, matching the pitch with a snarl of his own. 
The response to this is not of the verbal nature, instead, Dazai pushes him back against the wall. He brings his lips closer, as if for another kiss, before grabbing Chuuya’s lip with his teeth. Chuuya moans in response, hands back around Dazai’s waist. 
As he releases his grasp, Dazai slides his mouth up to Chuuya’s ear, his breath light as he murmurs sweetly, “Couch~”
“Couch it is,” Chuuya growls, reaching up and gripping Dazai’s hair. He pulls his head up and ducks to bite at his neck, earning a whimper. “But you- hehh… hk’IEShhhoo-! You owe me.” 
“Yes,” Dazai murmurs, tilting his head back to meet Chuuya’s eyes. “I suppose I do.” 
As they slide over to the couch, Chuuya makes a mental note to return to the mall and buy that cologne he’d found while searching for new gloves. At the time, he’d deemed the effect it had unpleasant, but now…? 
Now he’s starting to feel quite differently.  
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musingmycelium · 4 months ago
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. noncoherent but also thoughts
#i have such mixed feelings on the solas varric save everyone meme#bc on one hand ya that is whats going on in that dialoge but also!! its not!!#solas *is* trying to save everyone from his pov on several levels (the spirits the ancieny elves the modern people too to an extent*)#*the extent being how far he views them as people/everyone being semi dependant on his relationship with the inquisitor i believe#and he is trying this is his third fucking attempt we know of to save everyone#(which of course he will keep trying and keep trying as alone as possible he isnt named pride for no reason he doesnt have a place -#-in the dalish pantheon for no reason)#and then varric..#my god where do i even begin with varric's pov#da2 varric is EXTREMELY you cant save everyone (so why bother to try) and so very much out for himself (and those he cares about -#-bc those are *his* friends and his friends are part of his life)#but for those outside his circle? varric does not give two shits about anyone outside in da2#dai varric has learned over the past 10 years little. imo. he's learned his friends are affected by things he cannot control (hello.) but#he clings to the idea he can control things he can write their (his) story bc if he cant (and he knows he cant its why he tries so hard) -#then its been meaningless the whole time and he's back at square one#varric has learned the you have to try thing the fucking hard way and tbh he doesnt really believe it (at least not in dai)#i REALLY wanna see dav varric and what development he's had (sorry i havent read the comics and probably wont theyre hard for me to see/read#god i wish i could see what my tags are bc i dont remember where i cut several of these off fuck mobile tagging but anyways#i want tosee what direction varric has moved in - his dialogue inthe trailer is deeply interesting to me. specifically. since it does seem#to imply a real shift in his pov but im Suspicious bc while varric has always cared deeply and has been tryung very hard to keep his friends#read his#life comfortable he's really never picked any sort of side in his life varric is deeply centrist bc he benefits from not rocking the boat#(usually.)#(dai trapped him imo and hes not there to save the world by a long shot)#but dav seems to position him into an instigator role a real shake it up and point role#very interesting to me i wanna see where it goes#anyway.#im gonna take more headache meds and open indeed and blow myself up
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illithiddies · 11 months ago
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The bg3 fandom is so big and active rn I can't imagine there aren't at least a few servers out there that put like... a reasonable limit on the sort of dark content that can be discussed in it while still also allowing nuanced and mature discussion about it, especially considering the game's canon topics.
It's such a bizarre delicate balance but there has to be something right?
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joeymets · 2 years ago
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i am so out of sorts man
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winter-spark · 2 months ago
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SSR Family Event in a Nutshell
Itaru: Alright so my sister's getting married and I need to get her a good gift, ideas?
Izumi: You should invite her to the next Spring Play! I mean you'll be the lead.
Itaru: No way.
Sakuya: You really respect your sister, huh?
Itaru: Yea but don't tell her that.
Sakuya: (I think he should invite her to the play.)
Masumi: You sure you don't want to invite her to the play?
Itaru: Surprised you care, but yea no. Absolutely not inviting her.
Chikage: So your gift?
Itaru: Picked out I just need to pick it out & send it to...
Itaru: So she already has one coming. So I still need a great gift. I don't want to just give her money... Citron?
Citron: I can say with absolute confidence, you should invite her to the play. It'll mean a lot.
Itaru: ...Alright.
Itaru: Everyone I've decided to invite my sister to the play. And as special thanks to Citron for this, I want him to have a special role in it.
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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago
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I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ
dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader
cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.
wc: 800+
a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!
。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。
The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.
Your Logan.
"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.
Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.
Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?
Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.
"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."
"I know."
Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.
"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.
"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."
Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.
"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."
"You don't have to be."
It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.
All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.
"What are you doin' awake?"
The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.
"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.
"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.
"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.
"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.
"Were we really married?"
You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.
"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.
"Five."
"What was our life like?"
"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."
"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.
"You would have to."
He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.
"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.
Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.
"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"
"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."
You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.
For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.
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osaemu · 1 year ago
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ staying the night at your ex-husband's house was a mistake. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. you and gojo have a daughter. oral (m. and f. recieving), satoru calls you a slut + whore, degradation mixed with praise, mocking, dacryphilia.
author's note: edit—crying bcs an irl read this and alluded to it in one of our convos pls actually kill me /hj
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"hey, sweetheart," the man holding your daughter's hand says casually, as if he doesn't know how much you hate the pet name. "you took your sweet time."
a familiar scowl makes its way onto your face and you cross your arms. "satoru, will you ever stop calling me that?" you ask exasperatedly, pressing two of your fingers into your temples.
six years.
you've known satoru for six years, and you were his wife for four of them. now, after a long, painful road, you two were finally divorcées.
it's been a year since you and satoru ended things, and sure, it was hard for all of you, but life moved on. your daughter, to her delight, still gets to see her father on weekends. and unfortunately, you usually tagged along.
"mommy, can we stay for the night?" your four year old asks, looking up at you with big, shiny eyes. "please?"
you hesitate — if it were up to you, you wouldn't stay in this house, the one you once lived in any longer. "sorry, pumpkin. i think we should go. wouldn't wanna intrude on daddy's space any longer."
you hate the look on satoru's face when you refer to him in the same way your daughter does. fucking pervert.
"you two can stay as long as you want," satoru interjects smoothly. he smiles lazily, kneeling down to your daughter's height and ruffling her hair. "it's kinda late, isn't it? i'd hate for you to have to drive all the way back in the dark."
"yeah, mummy!" your daughter says, nodding along to satoru's words. "i'm tired."
you wince and ignore the smug grin on satoru's face as he stands back up with a soft grunt. "we should head home, kiddo. i bet your dad has work to do, and we have our own house."
satoru frowns slightly at the last statement, but he doesn't even consider shooting back — not in front of his daughter. "sweetheart," he says to you, voice coated in that sickeningly sweet tone that you hated, "it's late. and i don't have any work."
when satoru sees the way you scowl at him, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "you have any other reasons why you wanna leave?"
none that you need to know.
both your ex-husband and your daughter, who takes after her dad more, take your silence as grudging agreement. 
"hey, kid, d'you want to go to bed?" satoru fondly asks your daughter, ruffling her hair again. when she nods, sleepiness evident in her eyes, satoru scoops her up and carries her off to her room without looking back.
when they turn the corner into your daughter's room, you sigh and plop down on satoru's couch. your ex-husband was an infuriatingly good father, and it pissed you off. 
a couple minutes later, satoru strolls out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. 
"so, babe, you dating anyone?" satoru says conversationally as he plops down on the couch next to you. he's close enough to make you tense, but stays just out of your personal space.
"what's it to you if i am?" you mutter, ignoring the pet name. you know that if you tell him to stop, he'll just say it more, so you don't bother.
he scoffs and faces you, resting his back against the arm of the couch. "what's up your ass today?"
"fuck off, satoru."
satoru whistles and tsks at you, shaking his head. "language, sweetheart. you kiss our daughter with that mouth?" 
after a couple seconds, his expression softens and he studies your face carefully. "what's on your mind?"
and just like that, you're back to the times when the two of you were happy. back when satoru wasn't such a dipshit and actually cared about how you felt.
unfortunately, those times were over.
long over, you remind yourself as you dig your nails into the palm of your hand. "nothing you need to be concerned about," you reply. your tone is clipped, and the words come out harsher than you meant them to.
satoru doesn't seem to mind. in fact, he has a lopsided grin on his face as he scoots closer to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
"you wanna fuck it out?"
his words are so unexpected that your mouth almost drops open. thankfully, it doesn't, but a couple minutes later, your legs do.
"fuckkk," you moan, tilting your head back as satoru's tongue trails a stripe up your slit. 
"keep it down, sweetheart," satoru says without looking up. "don't wan' to wake up our daughter, do ya?"
you hum in response, physically covering your mouth with one of your hands to muffle the sounds escaping the confines of your lips.
in the year that you and satoru had ended things until now, you'd slept with a couple guys. you'd even dated one or two of them, but god, none of them could use their mouth like satoru could.
satoru can't help but smile as he eats you out, pulling away momentarily to shake his head at you. "tsk, you were so mean to me earlier. and now look at you." he dips his head to nip at your clit and grins when he feels you flinch.
"i've barely even started and you're already drippin' all over my sheets," he mutters, lips brushing against your inner thigh. "fuck, takin' my tongue so good, you little slut."
"satoru, i w-wanna cum," you mewl, shuddering when his tongue re-enters your folds. "wan' you inside me."
"i already am, dummy."
you feebly attempt to swat his head in response before scowling and insisting that he knew what you meant.
satoru scoffs as he pulls himself up to face level to you. he readjusts his position over you so your back is pressed into the mattress underneath him before pressing his lips to your ear.
"let's put that mouth of yours to use, yeah?" he mumbles, slipping two fingers underneath his sweatpants' waistband and tugging him off. 
it's been years since you last fucked with satoru, and in that time you had forgotten just how pretty he was. you'd never admit it out loud, but you really didn't mind the reminder. setting into a comfortable position, you wrap your lips around his cock, relishing the way his moans get louder and louder.
you hum slightly, resisting the urge to smile when you feel satoru shake from the vibration. but god, his reaction when you run your tongue over his tip? priceless.
"fuck, baby, it's been too long since you've sucked me off. forgot how good you were- aah," he cuts himself off with a breathy moan. "fuckkk."
you briefly stop to look up at him with a cheeky smile. "you still moan like a girl, satoru."
"and you're as much of a slut for me as ever," he grumbles, reaching down and pushing your head into his painfully hard cock again. "d-don't stop, baby. feels s' good."
satoru's moans only get louder from there, until you have to be the one reminding him that your daughter's asleep two doors down.
"m' gonna cum," he whines, grabbing a handful of your hair and tangling his long fingers in it. "swallow all of it, yeah? don't waste a drop."
you nod your head obiediently, using your tongue just the way you know he's always liked to push him closer and closer to the edge until–
"fuckin' whore," satoru gasps, groaning loudly as he cums in your mouth, hips grinding against your face. "aah, missed your s-slutty tongue, baby, fuck."
"missed your girly moans," you manage to gasp before his tip hits the back of your throat, painfully so.
"shut up and swallow," satoru commands, tugging on your hair just enough to make you cry out. "yeah, who's moaning like a slut now, hmm?"
after you swallow all his cum and lick your now-swollen lips, satoru has you open your mouth so he can check. 
"good girl, looks like there's at least one thing you can do right, even if it is just sucking me off. c'mere," he mutters, pinning you down on the mattress and making the bedsprings creak loudly. "m' gonna fuck you, m'kay?"
you nod, reaching out to stroke his saliva-covered cock. "y-yes, please, satoru."
your ex-husband, who you should really not be fucking with, looks down at you with a smirk and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips. "you look so pretty, baby. all covered in my cum, never looked hotter."
he nudges your legs apart with his knee before pushing himself into you, gritting his teeth through a smug grin when you cry out in pain. "careful, baby. wouldn't wanna wake up our daughter with your slutty moans, would ya?"
"s-satoru, hurts s' much," you whine, pawing at his chest. "you're too big, i can't-"
"you're too big, i can't," satoru mocks, rolling his eyes. "how do you think our daughter was made, baby? did the storks just drop her off?"
his next thrust is particularly harsh, and something about your pained cry almost makes him cum again on the spot. "fuck, we should do this more often," satoru cooes, reaching up and stroking your cheek. "wait, you cryin'?"
yes, you were crying. your cheeks were wet with a mixture of your tears and the remainder of his cum from earlier, and fuck, all you could think about was satoru's cock. so much for being so over him.
satoru laughs, shaking his head and slowing his pace to give you a kiss. "just when i thought you couldn't get any prettier, you gotta go and prove me wrong," he mumbles, licking his lips. "god, you're fucking beautiful."
he presses his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue slip into your mouth. "i missed you so much, baby. i still do," he mutters in between kisses. he's controlling the pace, purposefully making each kiss's ending sudden as to not allow you to talk — only him.
"you know how many times i've jacked off to you?" satoru breaths, reaching down to grab your thighs and push you impossibly deeper into him. "you know how fuckin' much i want to put a ring on your finger?"
"satoru, i-" you try to say, but his mouth is on yours before you can finish your sentence. and a couple seconds later, more words are waterfalling out of him.
"fuck, baby, you have no idea. i fucked up, but i swear i've changed. c'mon, give me one chance, i-"
"mummy? daddy?"
you and satoru both flinch and whip your heads towards the door when you hear your daughter's voice, preparing to make up some far-fetched story to tell her besides we were fucking.
thankfully, the universe allows you two seconds to cover yours and satoru's bodies with a blanket before your daughter opens the door and pokes her head inside. "i heard noises."
you look at satoru for help making up an excuse, and thankfully he has one ready to go. 
"oh, we were just watching a movie," he lies, running a hand through his hair. "go back to bed, kiddo. we'll tuck you back in in a second, yeah?"
your daughter looks at you before looking back at satoru and nodding. 
"close the door, please!" you call as she turns to leave. when the door shuts behind her, you let out a long exhale and bury your head in satoru's chest.
and to your horror, the door opens once more.
your daughter looks at you with shiny, curious eyes. "mommy, are you and daddy back together?"
satoru saves you from having to answer that impossible question with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. "go back to bed, pumpkin. i'll be there to tuck you in."
ten seconds after the door shuts for what you hope is the final time, you turn and glare at satoru. "you're gonna tuck her in?"
satoru scoffs in mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows and pointedly looking you up and down. "if you wanna tuck in our four year old daughter covered in my cum, be my guest."
you nudge his arms off of you and bury your face in a pillow, groaning softly. "fuck you, satoru."
"love you too, sweetheart."
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months ago
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call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.
✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)
✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.
anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.
✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.
you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.
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Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  
And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  
It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  
He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 
His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  
It's not because you don't like him, alright? 
You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 
( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  
You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  
 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  
You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 
"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  
"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  
He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  
“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 
In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  
Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he���s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 
Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  
 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  
Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 
You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  
"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  
He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  
"Why?"   
"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  
Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  
"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  
He hums. "So you hit her?" 
You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  
You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  
"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  
“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  
The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 
He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  
You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 
Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  
"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  
You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 
You still give him your name. 
"What a pretty name," 
When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  
And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  
That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 
You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 
Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  
But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  
It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  
Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 
It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  
You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 
You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  
So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  
You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  
Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  
He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  
Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  
You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  
When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  
In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  
For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  
That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  
To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  
He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 
(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  
It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  
"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  
Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  
"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  
He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  
Weird.  
"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  
He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  
"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  
You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  
He blinks, surprised.  
"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  
"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  
His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  
You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  
He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  
You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  
"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  
You stare at him in disbelief.  
"Wha—huh?"  
He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  
"I like you."  
"No the hell you don't."  
He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  
"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 
"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  
Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  
You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  
But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 
You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  
"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 
 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  
And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 
What the fuck was that?)  
For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  
The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  
Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  
Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  
Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  
Except. Except.  
Umemiya just won't give up.  
He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  
He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  
You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  
But honestly? 
You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  
But you're not going to to let him sway you.  
You've got principles, after all.  
__  
After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  
It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  
Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  
You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  
Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 
"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  
"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 
"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  
"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  
The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  
“Such a blatant lie.”  
Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  
Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  
"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  
"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  
"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  
You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 
"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  
You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  
Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  
"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  
You sigh deeply. 
"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 
"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  
You elbow Kotoha lightly.  
"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  
You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  
Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 
__  
You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  
Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  
Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  
(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  
After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  
You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  
Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  
You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  
Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 
The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  
The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  
Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  
"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 
You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  
"Go die."  
"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  
"Shut up. I'll kill you."  
As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  
"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  
He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  
"What the hell are you two talking about?" 
'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 
"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 
"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  
"What's happening at work?" 
Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  
"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  
Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  
A good question you hadn't considered asking.  
You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  
"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  
You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  
"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  
"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  
You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  
Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  
"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  
You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  
Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 
You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  
"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  
Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  
You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 
Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  
You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  
"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  
"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  
He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  
You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  
The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  
You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  
__  
For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  
No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 
But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  
It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  
He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  
It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  
At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  
You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  
"Oi. What's up with you?"  
"Hm?"  
You cross your arms over your chest.  
"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  
He stares at you.  
"You noticed?"  
"How could I not notice?"  
"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  
"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  
He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  
He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 
"Do you know that I like you?"  
Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  
This is what he wants to talk about? 
He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  
"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 
Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  
"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 
"But do you get it?"  
Your frown deepens.  
"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  
He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  
Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  
"...Never said that." 
He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 
You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  
One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  
Damn it.  
"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya frowns at you.  
"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  
You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  
After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  
"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  
He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  
"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 
"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  
He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 
"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  
You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  
"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  
A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  
You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 
You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 
"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  
He pauses before frowning.   
"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  
You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 
The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  
"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  
He looks like he's in shock. 
"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  
You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 
Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  
"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  
"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  
"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  
You aren’t sure how to answer him.  
"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  
It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  
"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  
"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 
You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  
He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  
"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  
"What about him?"  
"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  
Your eyes go wide.  
"I—it wasn't serious."  
"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  
You feel frozen in place by his admission. 
Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  
His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  
Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  
"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 
You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  
"Why me? And why now?"  
Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 
"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  
Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  
"Stop saying stuff like that."  
Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  
"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  
"I love you." He repeats.  
You squirm.  
"Stop it,"  
"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 
Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  
"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  
"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  
"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 
His drops down to a whisper.  
“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  
You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 
"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  
You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  
A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  
"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  
He laughs wetly.  
"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  
He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  
"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  
Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  
He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  
You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  
He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  
It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 
He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  
There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   
"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 
You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 
"Yeah."  
__ 
You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  
His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  
You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   
"I love you,"  
You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  
"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  
You pause.  
"...Sleep?" 
"Hm?"  
You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  
"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  
"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  
"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  
"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  
You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  
"Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  
"Stop staring."  
He doesn't.  
"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  
"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  
He smiles in satisfaction.  
"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  
You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  
"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  
He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  
"Don't say it." You hiss.  
"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  
You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  
He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  
"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  
You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  
"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  
You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  
"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  
He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  
"Yes, ma'am."  
__ 
Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  
You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  
Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  
But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  
He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  
Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  
You shiver.  
"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  
You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  
He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  
You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  
He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  
"The hell?"  
"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  
"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  
Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  
It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  
He smiles at you when you pull away.  
"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  
Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  
He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  
"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  
He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  
"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  
“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  
"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   
He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  
"What do you want then?"  
"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  
You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  
He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  
You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  
You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  
"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  
You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  
He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  
He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  
You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 
More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  
"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  
"You're making me feel good." He hums.  
Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 
"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  
You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  
The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  
You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  
"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  
"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  
You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  
He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  
"I'm just..."  
He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  
Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  
He smiles.  
"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  
You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  
Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  
"You're so beautiful to me."  
He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  
He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 
"Don't hold your voice, please?"  
"It's embarrassing,"  
"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  
You frown but nod ultimately.  
Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  
This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  
No one's ever touched you like this, though.  
His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  
"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  
The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  
You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  
"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  
He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  
Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  
(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  
Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  
But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  
Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  
"Fuck."  
He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  
"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  
He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  
And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  
Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  
"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  
"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  
"It's enough already," 
He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  
You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  
He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  
There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  
He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  
Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  
The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  
"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  
You cover your face with your arm.  
"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  
"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  
He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  
There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  
Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   
You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 
An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  
A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  
Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  
Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  
Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  
By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  
"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  
"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  
He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  
You pause. Umemiya waits. ��
"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  
"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  
"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  
"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 
The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  
"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  
He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  
"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  
"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 
He smiles. "As you wish,"  
Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  
You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  
"Stop looking so much,"  
He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  
Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  
You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 
You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  
Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 
"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  
He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  
You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  
It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  
"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  
Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  
You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  
He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  
You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  
He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  
Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  
"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  
You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  
He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  
He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  
"Take 'em off. Please?"  
Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  
"Your dick is so big,"  
He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  
"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  
He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  
"You gonna fuck me?"  
"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  
"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   
"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  
You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  
His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  
You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 
Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  
"Why are you—mmgh," 
He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  
"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  
Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  
“Hajime—“ 
He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  
“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  
Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  
“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  
His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  
“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 
Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  
“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  
Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  
A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  
You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  
He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  
“Too much?”  
Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  
“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  
He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  
“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  
He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  
You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  
“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 
“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  
“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  
“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  
You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  
“Did you want something else? Water?”  
“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 
He pulls back to look at you seriously.  
“Do you know what you’re asking?”  
You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  
“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  
You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  
“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  
He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 
“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  
He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  
You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  
You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  
Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  
“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  
Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  
His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  
“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  
“Different?”  
“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  
You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  
“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  
You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  
“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  
You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  
“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  
You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 
He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 
As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  
Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   
“Yeah?”  
You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 
When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  
“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 
“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  
You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  
Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  
“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  
You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  
Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  
He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  
“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  
He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  
A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 
“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  
Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  
Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  
You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  
“You gonna cum soon?”  
“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  
“’s okay to cum in me,”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  
You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  
You don’t really hate it, though.  
“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  
“Love you too,”  
__ 
The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  
You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  
Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  
“No fucking way,”  
You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  
You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  
Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 
Fuck.  
“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  
Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  
You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  
Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  
“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  
“In your dreams.”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  
He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 
“Good morning,”  
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  
“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  
You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  
You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  
“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  
You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  
With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  
“She left already?”  
“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   
Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  
“You already said that.”  
“You didn’t say it back,”  
You frown. “G’morning,”  
He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  
“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  
“You’re stupid.”  
“And you love me,”  
You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.
“I guess so.”  
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always-just-red · 3 months ago
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hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.
but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.
maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)
feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.
Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰
Technical Difficulties
Sylus x Reader 🩸
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Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.
Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!
Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh
| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?
Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?
You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.
Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:
Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx
Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.
Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:
Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!
Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.
Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?
“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”
Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”
“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”
The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.
“Mmhmm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Sylus.”
You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  
“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.
“Ok,” he says softly.
There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??
You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.
You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.
You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.
Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.
Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.
Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.
At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.
You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”
“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.
“How did you even get in here?”
He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.
Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”
“Magicking, yeah.”
You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.
“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”
Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.
“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”
“Snob.”
“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”
You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.
Nero’s yelling at me
Wants to talk to U
Can U pick up? Pls?
It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”
He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.
Nothing happens.
Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.
With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.
“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.
“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”
“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”
“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”
“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”
“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”
“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.
Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”
Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.
You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.
Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.
The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.
“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.
“That’s Skye!” Tara.
Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.
You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.
With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.
Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.
He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.
Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”
“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”
His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”
“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  
Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”
It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.
Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.
It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”
“You’re right.”
“…Good.”
Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.
“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”
There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”
Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.
You chuckle to yourself.
And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.
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stormz369 · 2 months ago
Text
☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1
Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
word count: 1.7k
Chapter Selection
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In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.
It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.
No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”
“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 
I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”
His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”
I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”
“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”
“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.
Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.
An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”
“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.
“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”
“Huh? No, really, I promise!”
My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”
He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”
Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”
The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.
Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”
I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.
He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”
I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”
“Jay… Jason.”
“Not Todd?”
“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.
“... Jason?”
He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”
“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.
He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”
I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”
He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”
I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”
“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”
“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.
He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.
“... Sure, I've got time.”
The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 
The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”
Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.
I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”
“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”
That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.
He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”
The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”
Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”
His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.
“thanks … I'll call you?”
“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”
He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”
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