#this took me a really long time to finish because i just didnt want to realize that Noragami was over

[herstrayskies]

April 2nd

"I met Yato again today! He played dumb at first, which made me laugh."

Thanks for everything, Noragami.

[maraschinotopped]

undertale yellow. clutches head in anguish.

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[loppsided]

d. lizewski as your boyfriend

summary: dating dave lizewski headcanons!

pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader

wc: 407

warnings: smut at the end

a/n: omg!! thank you guys so much for 100 followers that so cool. but also tell me why my friend read my last fic chy im so embarrassed, if ur reading this hai heh. heres a little drabble with some smutty stuff as a filler until i can make a real fic again. likes and reblogs appreciated!

clingy as hell! this goes hand and hand with him being a jealous bf, hes always holding some part of you, because he wants people to know your his and also because he loves touching you

hes a jealous boyf cuz hes a little insecure, not growing up with a lot of female attention then bagging a beautiful girl like you can make him doubt himself

but you always reassure him, telling him hes the best thing to happen to you and he returns those feelings

you cleaning him up after he gets off patrol and him being completely covered in bruises and marks

scolding him on how dangerous being kick ass is and if he isn't gonna be more careful, you want him to stop

it taking him forever to admit to you he was kickass cause he didn't want you to judge him

comic book dates where you buy dinner and a new comic book and he tells you every detail about it

random rants while watching his favorite shows or movies on what's accurate and what's not

him sneaking into your window late at night to cuddle

him bragging to his friends about how perfect you are and how your the best girl in town

make out sessions after school in alleys behind dumpsters

movie nights at his place, you two are curled up on his bed with a bowl of popcorn but by the end of the movie, the popcorn's on the floor, and your both making out

definitely a hand holder like he'll hold your hand wherever, he doesn't care who see's

loves pda cause he likes when you show him off

threatens to beat up anyone who messes with you, but you decline with a giggle

nsfw below the cut

loves make out sessions, could literally eat your face for hours

definitely whimpers lmfao hes such a crybaby when hes about to cum

you guys took each others v cards, so even though your first time was super sloppy and you didnt exactly finish, it was still so amazing and romantic

def a tits guy, will just stare at them for as long as possible

hes one of those gross tongue kissers that doesn't really ease into the kiss, he just shoves his tongue down your throat *you dont really mind that tho*

him fucking you in his suit, it turns him on so bad, him being fully clothed while ur bare in front of him

DEFINITELY A MUNCH literally will eat you out for hours asking "is this good?"

[iloveboysinred]

That zuko smut you wrote was SO good!! is it okay if i request some nsfw hc ??? but from keith kogane, idk how to be specific lol!! Thank you sm 💗💗

Thank you anon youre my second ask ever i’m super excited !!!!! I’m glad you enjoyed it! You are so kind🥰 & Ofc you can !! I love me some Keith Kogane. Top tier boy in red

Masterlist

cw; sexually explicit content, 18+ MDNI! Nsfw under the GIF kinda long!

GIF BY @/kin-of-the-sheep

- Okay so in my head i feel like after you and all the paladins get launched into space and learn about Zarkon and the war and everything, you and Keith definitely didnt have time to really “get it on” if you know what i mean. Things were moving so fast and you all needed time to adjust.

- But after a few days of training and getting used to the fact that you’re literally in space the switch is back on for sure.

- Keith isnt a patient man. So I feel like he definitely enjoys quickies here and there around the castle. They’re never planned. Sometimes the way you train in hand to hand combat gets a little too touchy, sometimes the way you looked at him made his stomach turn and his dick jump. Keith just needs you in that exact moment, and the way ya’ll be fucking its a miracle nobody has walked in on you yet

-or maybe they just stay away on purpose 😭

- he likes to be rough during these, slapping your ass, squeezing your hips, shit even tugging on your hair. Everything is moving so fast he wants to get a feel of everything.

- but when you guys have real sex, its like night and day.

- You guys would come home from a mission, tired and scared for each other, every time you guys go out there you run the risk of being captured or worse. So immediately you and Keith embrace each other, heading to the showers to clean off.

- It starts innocent, Keith washing your back, washing your hair. He was savoring every caress, just wanting to be in your skin.

- but then he starts getting touchy feely, ghosting his fingers over your nipples, leaving soft nibbles on your neck. You feel him starting to get hard, his body pressed to yours as close as he can be.

- knowing thats on his mind, you decide to take it to his room.

- it takes you a minute to get there, because Keith kept stopping mid walk to press you against the wall and kiss you and feel you up over your towel. He gets needy fast. Like i said, he’s not a patient man.

- So, when you finally reach the intended destination, his movements are in haste, wanting to get you bare and open for him as soon as he can.

- His kisses are slow as his hands wander, holding you close to him as if he’s never going to get the chance again.

- he’s greedy with your body, eating you out messily. He wants every last drop of you, whole time relishing in the fact that you’re all his.

- every sound you make, every reaction to his touch is reserved for him. In a world where everything was taken from him, Keith wanted something to himself. Something he could take.

- So, he took and took. Orgasm after Orgasm until he was satisfied with the mess he’s made of you.

- But even then he’s not finished with you yet. He likes to watch you closely when he enters you. Eyes half lidded as the tightness of your heat squeezes around him, its utter bliss for the two of you, and he doesnt hold back.

- I dont care what anybody says, Keith is vocal during sex. He grunts and moans right above you, thrusting into you with a passion that shocks you. He loves to ask you how he makes you feel, if you like what he’s doing, ect. Despite having been in the same predicament many and i mean maaany times and knowing just how to set you off.

- “like that, baby?” “Fuck…tell me you like this dick” “take it baby, fuck!”

- Very into eye contact during sex. You guys will lock gazes often. You love to drown in his purple iris while he fucks you, getting almost lost in each other, the only thing you can think of is the stuttering of his hips as he nears his end. He’s everywhere at once, his scent, his body, his voice. All you see is Keith.

- ngl Keith folds you up into so many different positions. He just wants to be as deep and as close to you as he can. He’ll have your legs on his shoulder while he basically folds you in half, beating down into you with his forehead pressed against yours, grunting out curses as his hips rock into yours. He loves the way your face contorts with every thrust. He’ll reach between your legs, playing with you just to watch you squirm.

- He loves when you scratch up his back. It lets him know that he’s hitting it just right, boosting his ego as well as adding to his pleasure.

- he doesn’t really do pet names during sex. He’ll call you “baby,” “hun”, “beautiful” maybe even “my love” if he’s feeling sappy & he loves when you call him “baby”, “honey” or even just his name sounds good coming from your lips. But as far as daddy, sir, master?? He will roll his eyes at you so fast and look at you so crazy, it actually makes me laugh thinking about it.

- When he reaches his peak, he smashes his lips onto yours, his hips jerking into yours as he spills into you.

- But when you reach your peak he takes his time to coax you through it, riding it out with you, whispering encouragement and littering your skin with kisses as you come undone.

- after care is a must. Once you guys are all cleaned up you lovebirds will lay next to each other and lock gazes. Kissing and giggling like lovestruck puppies.

- But all that lovey dovey shit aside Keith is a freaaaaak

- Its the little things you do that really gets Keith’s blood pumping.

- like when the team found out he was half galra and Allura was being cold and standoffish to him, you didnt hesitate to rip her a new one about your man! I know thats right

- while you were bickering with her, Keith was just smug as shit, getting turned on by your protectiveness.

- soon as he got you alone he was beating your walls loose, biting you, sucking marks into your neck.

- when you get angry like that he’ll happily bottom and let you ride him. He absolutely loves when you take control and throw him around a little bit. He reaches up to play with your nipples and leave hickeys all over you as you rock yourself down on him, letting you essentially get yourself off on him any way you wanted.

- Be rough with him. Grab his hair, bite him, mark him up. He’s yours and he wants you to prove it.

- teasing Keith is a dangerous game. If you’re in public doing it especially. You’re basically asking him to break you down as soon as he gets you alone.

- sometimes it gets competitive, Keith doesnt back down and he’ll make sure you’re nothing short of a wreck by the end of the night. But you’re his perfect match. The both of you essentially going tit for tat all night. When he thrusts into you, you throw that ass back on him. When he presses heated kisses to your lips, you suck his tongue into your mouth and turn it into a make out.

- When he came back from being gone for two years with his mom, you guys fucked like animals.

- Seeing him shed his angsty teenager phase into his angsty grown ass man phase was making you feral.

- his hair had gotten longer, he was taller, and his body had become more muscular, but still lean.

- when you got him all to yourself after everyone greeted him and he delivered his news and all that, you guys were just straight up nasty.

- you had two years of no sex to make up for, after all.

- He fucked you in just about every position in the book. Doggy, missionary, cow girl, full nelson, all of it. He missed your gasps, your hushed whispers of his name as he brought you to your high. It was sentimental almost, the way his thrusts showed how much he missed you.

- and it was when you reached your peak that it really dawned on him that he could never stray too far from you. Your boy in red was wrapped around your finger, bound to you. He gazed at you in new astonishment, almost childlike wonder as you fluttered around him. Forcing his own orgasm to rack his body. He moaned, low and drawn out. Pressing his lips to yours like he always did when you reached your climax, rocking his hips gently into yours to draw it out as much as he could.

- hushed “i love yous” between the two of you as you basked in the glow of having your Keith back.

Hope you like this Anon 💕 thank you for your request/ask :> notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks and submissions are welcomed !

[rotthepoet]

I saw you say you have writers block so feel absolutely zero pressure to do anything with this, it was just a thought I felt like you could appreciate w/ me! I saw a Ron work forever ago (cannot remember the author unfortunately) where he was your bestie and you went on a date and came back unsatisfied from your date/hookup so he took it upon himself to take care of you but can you just for a moment imagine that situation with bestie Theo 🥹

He’s already angry because you’re his girl, and pretty much everyone in the school knows that so he cannot believe the audacity of some boy asking you on a date to begin and then for you to come back teary eyed and frustrated?! He felt like he could kill the guy for it. But obviously he’s not going to leave you like that- he’d never. So he fingers you with his pretty, thick, ringed fingers until you’re so relaxed against the bed that you’re not even sure you could stand. BUT You want more. He’s so hot and god the things he whispered in your ear while he had his fingers inside you were to die for. So you ever so sweetly blink up at him, batting your eyes so cutely, and ask him to pretty please fuck you. And of course, he happily obliges.

Other boys don’t ask you on dates anymore.

Maybe you call him daddy idk I can’t really make up my mind if that would be something he’d rock with or not

oMG I DO APPRECIATE THISSS I LOVE IT

nasty ass Slytherin boys i love toxic and manipulative men 🙏

Because Theo is literally pissed all week, Mattheo keeps making a joke that hes on the rag, because theo is unfocused, smoking constantly, adhd off the wall, shits going down

If the slytherin dorms didnt have stone walls there would 100% be a hole in them.

Regardless, He’s fucking pissed. Especially the day that uou go on the date. Hes staying up all night, pacing in the common room because his ruminating was too loud for his dorm mates, and in you walk, heels in your hand, lips downturned and obviously pissed off.

And omg theo is about to kill a man. Because why the fuck do you look so fucking upset??? Holy shit.

“Bella, whats wrong? What did he do?”

“It’s not what he did, its what he didnt do. Couldn’t do, i guess.”

“Oh?”

“…”

“Oh.”

And i mean. Theo cant just leave his girl hanging, all needy and clearly unsatisfied. He approaches you, slowly, afraid you might run away. He holds your face in one hand, leaning into your ear and promising he’ll make it all better. That he’ll step up as your best friend, this is what friends are for, right?

And god when his lips are kissing down your neck, biting and sucking over the marks your failed date had left, making them his own, you cant even argue.

So its really no surprise when he has you in your bed, your dorm miraculously empty for this time of night, and uour back is to his chest, and his fingers are spreading apart your folds, and he’s mumbling so sweetly in your ear. And fuck its so hood. Its SO good. You’re finishing in now time, pussy spasming around his long fingers, the once cold metal rings now warm and stained with your arousal.

But its not enough. Nothing will ever be enough when it comes to theo. And youre so fucking whiney and pathetic and how coukd theo say no when you practically beg him to fuck you, to fill uou to the brim with his hard, heavy cock.

I mean, he would never have said no anyways.

And so there you are, face down in bed, your tears being kissed away as Theo brings you to release over and over again, your core all puffy and sensitive from overstimulation.

He isn’t stopping until half your neck is purple with his love bites, and hes sucked a makeshift “T” into your shoulder, marking you as his.

[glitterjay]

🍒: THANKYOU SM LOVE FOR WELCOMING ME <33 I HOPE YOU'RE DOING AMAZING!!!

thoughts on sub virgin heeseung feeling nervous and insecure about his size for his first time with reader but as the reader comforts him throughout, turns out he's REALLY BIG??

⭒ sub!heeseung, virgin!heeseung, dom!reader, insecurities, riding, pet names (kind of), not very explicit, minors dni

⭒ c's note: you're very welcome ♡ and i hope YOU are doing fantastic

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

you loved him for who he was. yes. that was the only logical reason. heeseung was a very handsome and nice guy overall. he was also very cocked, or so, he wanted to seem that way.

he his his own insecurities by always having big talk about himself, but deep down he was scared he wouldnt be able to fulfill your needs sex wise.

he knew he was attractive and god did he live up to it, but the reason behind why he was still a virgin was because he didnt have fait in himself, or well, his dick.

when you found out about this, though, you made it your plan to ride him up until he gave into the idea of having sex. it was dirty play, sure, but you still wouldnt try anything too far unless heeseung himself gave you a green light.

-

it didnt take long for him to break, and that green light came faster than you expected. he was sitting on the couch watching something on the tv when you decided to join him. instead of sitting next to him, though, you sat on his lap, ass directly on top of crotch.

it was okay for the first few minutes until you started to get "excited" and you'd start to move a lot against his cock. it was only fair for him to get hard. heeseung was going to excuse himself to get rid of his boner alone like he had grown used to, but something in him felt like he was ready to let go of his insecurities.

when you pulled his sweatpants down just enough to reveal his dick, your mouth watered when you saw it. heeseung was looking everywhere in the room but you. suddenly he felt really shy.

"holy shit, heeseung you're huge!"

you had to get him inside you. there was no time to waste, so you aligned yourself with the tip of his dick with no prep beforehand.

he wasnt all the way in and heeseung was already a moaning mess. you couldnt blame him. all this time holding back because he was so scared and insecure, but you were there to make him feel better about himself.

you took a deep breath and sank all the way in. you let out a loud gas as your boyfriend let out a high pitched moan. you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hip as you started moving little by little.

"fuck babe, you feel so good- mhm! yeah, so big."

your words had him seeing shapes and rainbows. it was embarrassing how quick he was getting to his own finish, but seeing you enjoy it so much was exhilarating.

"is my sweet boy close? come on, baby. i'll let you cum inside me."

there was no way the sweetest and most beautiful voice was saying those filthy words right in front of him. he opened his eyes and moved his hands from your hip to ream your body. he had to make sure it wasnt a dream.

"gatekeeping this monstercock all to myself."

and with that, heeseung's hips were bucking up as he held your body down on him, releasing all his warm seeds in you. his face was red, already sweaty. his beautiful voice, the same one that would randomly sing so nicely was now decorating the air space in the living room with broken, high pitched moans.

you werent done yet, though, so you kissed the few tears that fell from his eyes away as a little gift for ruining him for the rest of the day.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[mayuichi]

Spending your birthday with them.

Include:

Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]

Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]

Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]

Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]

Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...

may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(

This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!

Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.

However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.

But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?

He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.

It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.

“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„

It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.

“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.

“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?

And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.

He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.

And he's more than glad for it to be with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.

But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.

But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.

But he was willing to take that risk.

On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.

“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„

You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.

But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.

Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„

His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.

And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.

It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.

When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„

Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„

And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.

He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!

Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.

It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.

They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.

By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.

And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„

Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.

Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„

He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.

But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.

But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.

He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.

Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.

Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.

But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„

Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„

He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„

He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.

Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„

He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.

That he has a home. A home with you.

☆.｡.:*　❥　-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-　☽　.｡.:*☆

What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.

It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.

Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.

He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.

Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.

“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.

Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.

There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.

In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.

However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„

Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.

You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.

Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.

“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.

“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.

And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.

You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.

You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.

Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.

Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.

The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„

Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.

“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.

“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.

Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.

·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　✮　☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·

It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.

William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.

To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.

He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.

He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.

He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.

Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.

A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.

You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.

By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.

Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.

He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.

Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.

He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.

His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.

He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.

But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.

It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.

He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.

Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„

It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.

He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.

“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.

He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[morownic]

you found your house, but where’s your home?

Japan was home to your childhood and the innocence you had lost a long time ago, and there was no way you would taint it with your deep, irremediable sorrow. You were never going back there. You were never going back home. (Have you ever had one?)

warnings/tags: NSFW MDNI (graphic descriptions of drug use, overdose, and blood; non-graphic smut), non-ultraman AU, afab + fem pronouns, non-graphic descriptions of a car accident, suicidal ideation

prev. // next — series masterlist · my other works · ao3

a/n: still written in the big spirit of oh no (tbh i was kinda convinced this song is practically gonna be the theme song for this series lmfao) + big influence of the breach + maps. this took a month to finish because i was in the trenches and my laptop broke lol thats why i didnt proofread and the ending is kinda ehh as well. i hope there are still people reading this though </3

Blues and purples washed over the crowd of college students as the party reached full swing. Music thumped in your chest as if it wanted to replace the beating of your heart, and drunken chatter rang in your ears as if they wanted to replace the voices in your head. Your eyes swept over the room, looking for a familiar face to ground yourself in the midst of your high. Some people greeted you as you made your way through the sea of bodies. Even though you failed to recognize most of them, you practically bounced as you greeted back and asked for their names and majors, complimenting them on their appearance and making small talk before moving on to the other person that had approached you. Mirth ran through your veins, so much so that it caused nausea to bubble in the depths of your stomach, as you kept moving from one conversation to another without so much as taking a breath and moving around with a twitch every now and then and a restlessness that slowly built up your exhaustion. When you finally saw Harley, your roommate, you gave the last person who spoke to you a jovial goodbye and a giddy side-hug before making your way toward her.

If you weren’t coked out of your mind, you would have immediately noticed the look on her face as she realized that you were not sober. Disappointment, concern, horror. You merely offered her the widest smile you could wear as you downed whatever the content of your cup was. The bitterness and burn of alcohol didn’t even make you flinch, and at that moment, you wondered if you should have heeded the sign that you gotta stop yourself now. Harley, on the other hand, looked at you as if you had just grown another head in front of her.

“Are you serious?”

Still, in your state, you couldn’t register her anger just yet. You were just confused as to what she was referring to as your smile slowly morphed into a frown. “What?”

“God, I thought you’ve been clean for–” Harley was momentarily interrupted by someone tapping on her shoulder, to which she responded with a rather aggressive ‘Give me a fucking minute!’ before she turned back to you. “You’re fucked. You’re really fucked.”

You were still puzzled, but your own indignation was starting to surface. “What the fuck’re you saying?”

The person behind Harley was saying something to her again, a sense of urgency evident in their speech and gesture, and you saw her gaze flickering between you and them. You caught her cursing under her breath before she said something you couldn’t hear to them and craned her head in your direction with a scowl on her face.

“I’ll be right back. Do not fucking do anything stupid, you hear me?!”

A glimpse of your roommate’s bleached hair was all you saw before she disappeared into the crowd. You couldn’t even process your interaction, let alone get another word in. The realization that you were alone, again, somehow sobered you up. Your eyes felt heavy as they swept over the room once more, hoping to find someone who could distract you from your approaching crash. Gone was the euphoria that ran through your veins and kept you moving. The bluish lighting lost its color and no longer cast a glow that made you feel at ease; its coolness only made you feel more despondent in the middle of the party. The steady pulse of the music somewhat replaced your slowing heartbeat, yet it was muffled in your ears, blending with the chatter around you that grated on your overstimulated nerves. Each breath and step you took as you aimlessly walked through the crowd were slower than the last. You had never experienced your high crashing down as quickly as this. You thought that maybe, just maybe, talking to someone else about some mundane things or the latest gossip would at least be better than going back to one of those bathrooms for a fix. But there was no one to drag you into their conversation, let alone drag you into some corner just to temporarily reprieve you from the weight of it all; everyone was lost in their own world, while you just wanted to run away from yours, to forget and forget and forget.

So you did what you had been doing for the past year to patch up that hole in your heart ever since your parents died.

The bathroom you slipped into was bathed in deep purple, with flickering fairy lights framing the mirror where you saw your own reflection. You almost broke down when you did, because you hated what you saw. To others, you looked fine, pretty even, what with how the silk dress fitted over your form, how the red of your lips and nails seemed to glow in the dark, how your hair still seemed effortlessly kept even though it was a bit disheveled. To you? You looked fucking horrible. If it weren’t for the dim lighting, everyone would have noticed the dark circles under your eyes that you had tried to hide with layers and layers of concealer and the hollow of your cheeks that you didn’t bother contouring. You were a couple pounds lighter than you had been a month ago. Your veins stood out like dark, winding rivers beneath your skin, and your metacarpals had bulged like tree roots protruding from the ground. You put your purse on the counter, sluggishly rummaging through its contents to find your stash. Pressure wrapped around your head like a rubber band as you fumbled with the items inside your purse, trying to control your breathing so that pressure wouldn’t snap. You pulled out a tiny, crumpled resealable bag filled with that godforsaken white powder.

(Couldn’t you have found another way to numb yourself?)

You carefully opened the bag and poured the amount that you thought could lift the crushing weight from your chest onto the counter. With an old credit card your father once gave you before he returned to Japan to run away from you and your mother again, you arranged a few neat lines that you couldn’t even count on one hand because of how distressed you were. Even if you had at least retained a bit of your rationale, you would only have given yourself a pat on the back for lining them nearly as straight as a ruler. You hastily ripped a piece of paper from the tiny notebook you carried with you, rolled it up, and placed it against your nostril.

One sharp inhale and your world burst back into color, it seemed.

No more of that suffocating burden in your chest. No more of that dull ache devouring your entire body. Only that abrupt, exhilarating thrill returning to your bloodstream. Your body tensed for a split second, with your gasp for air making you sound like you had been strangled by death himself just moments ago. (But even death would have been kinder to you than you did to yourself.) At least, this way, your world felt warmer. Not the cold, barren land that you never bothered to nurture, even more so after your parents had passed. Their faces coming to the forefront of your mind made you snort another line, and you were taken back to your childhood home in the Tokyo suburbs; home where your dad played baseball and watched recordings of the Giants’ games with you, where your mom pulled you in for a side-hug as she plated the tonkatsu she cooked for dinner, where you ran around in your backyard either playing with bubbles bought from the local festival or a kite your dad had made for you. Those memories hurt you enough to make you take another bump.

Peace was not something you could afford—not when the line you took, crossed, only made you remember his face. You held back a sob as you took yet another bump. He was just that doe-eyed boy in high school; the boy who laughed in earnest after you parroted some stupid middle school joke you heard from one of your old classmates, the boy who scored a home run that you cheered for so loudly you could barely speak the next day, the boy who made you feel vulnerable for the first time when you kneeled for someone else as if he was God and he later kissed you as if you were an angel, as if all those Sundays you spent at church with your mother were all in vain because he was the original sin that you could not rid yourself of. One line taken, crossed, for every thought of him. One line taken, crossed, for every image of him in your head. The euphoria and heartache enveloping your chest did little to tear you from your frenzy, and only when they turned into a weight heavier than the one you were trying to cast aside did it finally hit you.

“Oh, fuck.”

The devil was staring back at you in the mirror. Your hands felt clammy as they gripped the counter so hard that your knuckles turned white. Your heart beat violently against your ribcage that you were sure it was about to break. You found that it was getting harder to breathe with each sharp inhale that burned your nostrils. Instead of running away, it was as if you were being chased. As if God had enough of your bullshit and told you ‘Don’t you fucking run away’ as the room closed in around you. Everything blurred, darkened, as you grew numb and heavy. Your grip on the counter loosened before your hands finally fell on your sides. Gone was the euphoria that made your world feel at least a little worthwhile, replaced by the realization that something very wrong was going on with you. You swayed and lost your balance in one movement—damn your high-heeled feet, damn the black hole in your heart, damn all the gods and angels that ever existed that never heard your prayers—then you fell onto your knees, knocking your head on the edge of the counter. The only warmth you felt then was the blood trickling down your forehead as you collapsed sideways onto the floor.

Several minutes passed as you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. During those minutes, you recalled not being able to breathe properly, if at all, as you instinctively yet weakly willed yourself to at least lie down on your side. The noise that escaped the back of your throat was barely audible, and it was something akin to someone being choked to death. You thought that that was what was actually happening, that it was for real this time. Everything was muffled, but you could make out a loud bang against the wall and a figure rushing to your side and shaking your body a little too violently for your liking in your half-conscious state. Warmer light bathed the room once the overhead light was turned on, and you heard what you could only recognize as the voices of people panicking and yelling at each other.

God granted you one last moment of clarity, in which you saw Ken’s face, stricken with horror, before you let yourself fall deeper into oblivion.

Ken Sato got benched for the first time.

Not only did the Giants lose their second match against the Swallows, Ken was also very nearly suspended for the bench-clearing brawl that he had supposedly started. In his first game against the Swallows, the umpire had intervened in the quarrel between Ken and the opposing catcher, and he managed to hit a home run that boosted the team’s morale. But then he just had to meet her during that stupid celebration; their encounter had left him distraught for literal fucking days. Before he knew it, the sun had already risen on his game day. He had to drink two cups of coffee just to kickstart his body into motion. While he could keep that goddamn catcher’s brickbats in the first match, Ken could barely keep himself together when the catcher provoked him in the second match—he tried, really, to hold the lingering effects of the few cans of beer he had the other night, to perform well despite his lack of sleep and barely healed shoulder, to empty his mind from the thoughts of her while he was on the field. He remembered slapping the catcher’s mask off his face and the impact of a clenched fist against his left cheekbone. Everything that happened afterward was a blur to him, other than the fact that Coach Shimura benched and reprimanded him and that he went past the speed limit when he rode his bike back home after the game. That night, the ice bath he had sunk himself into did little to calm his nerves.

The bruises on Ken’s face ceased to swell just two days before his next game. When he found that he could fit his helmet comfortably again without having to deal with how sore the left side of his face was, he cruised across the Rainbow Bridge and relished the rush he felt as he swerved past the traffic in Minato, the hum of his bike engine reverberating through his body. For a moment, the sight of the Tokyo Tower in the distance distracted him from his reality. He thought of Shibuya as the destination of his night ride, but then he recalled his encounter with her at that one nightclub and frustration bubbled up in his chest once again like heartburn. So he simply cruised through the streets of Roppongi, aimlessly taking turns until he arrived at an intersection and narrowly missed a car running a red light from his right.

“Hey–!”

“Ken, are you alright?”

The sound of metal clashing and glass shattering just a few feet ahead of him made Ken instinctively swerve away from the crash. He could barely register what was happening as he brought his bike to a stop near the sidewalk. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as his heartbeat pulsed in his ears and pounded in his chest. With labored breaths and trembling hands, Ken took off his helmet and turned to look at the scene. His eyes widened in shock as he processed the sight of two cars crumpled against each other at the intersection, smoke billowing up from one of the cars’ hoods and the ring of their alarms echoing through the street.

A loud wail that shrilled through his ears pulled him out of his trance. If the scene hadn’t already distressed him, then the sight of a child that some of the pedestrians pulled out from the passenger seat of the impacted car was downright heartbreaking. She was no more than five years old, her pristine white dress stained with blood—Ken wasn’t sure if it was the child’s or someone else’s. He could only imagine what she had seen in the driver’s seat for her to keep trying to get back into the car and shrieking at the top of her lungs. But when they pulled out the driver from the car, he understood.

Ken felt as if his heart had been ripped out from his chest when he saw a face so familiar being laid down on the sidewalk across from him. He was sure he strained his vocal chords when he called out her name so loud it might have rivaled the child’s earsplitting cries.

He had seen this before. He had felt this before—sometime in college, at some godforsaken frat party that made him absolutely abhor parties. (Even if they were some of the only things that helped him cope with the loneliness he felt after she left.) He remembered seeing her lying on the bathroom floor, motionless; there were trails of white on her nostrils, drool and lipstick smudged on the corners of her mouth, blood trickling down from her forehead to the stained white linoleum. But now, instead of slowly kneeling beside her, he ran as fast as he could to the other side of the road and practically shoved away the people that were between him and her. There was no way she was dying right in front of him again. He refused to believe it, at least until he reached out to hold her and realized that she was as pale as she had been that night. His breath labored and his hands—no, his whole body trembled as he frantically glanced over at her closed eyes, the trickling crimson on her face, the slowly drying red on the white of her shirt. Time didn’t slow down this time; it felt as if everything in the world, his world, had completely stilled when he brushed her hair out of her face. Her. It was her. It was just like that night.

This was real. This wasn’t a fever dream.

This was fucking real.

Ken had met you again in the middle of freshman year in college. The two of you reconnected, albeit with a sense of detachment that often made his skin crawl. The jock he had seen you with was actually your boyfriend of a month—one you had supposedly dumped just two days after Ken had met you again. A few days after your breakup, Ken saw you hunched over on a bench in front of the convenience store near his dorm. Your face was hidden under the hood of your jacket while you ate cup noodles and drank a can of beer; he noticed how the bags under your eyes had become more prominent and how your lips were a little more chapped compared to when you were in high school. He bought a can of beer of his own before awkwardly sitting next to you, asking about your life, and you lit up a cigarette, apologizing for cutting him off after graduation. He didn’t know which he hated more: the fact that he could forgive you in the blink of an eye or how easy it was to fall back into the dynamic you used to have—playful banter, laughter that shook your bodies, and longing stares that neither of you spoke about. His heart fluttered when you held out your little finger, and he hooked it with his own.

“Friends forever, bro.”

You were glad you didn’t fall back into some of your old habits—the ones that involved either him under you or you under him. (He was your old habit.) You reconnected with his mother, too, but you never visited again, because you feared the comfort of his home would remind you too much of the past and how your home could never be as warm as his. For a while, it truly felt like you were just friends without all the skeletons in your closets. You would spend some of your weekday nights studying with Ken at the library before riding your bikes across town to that old diner you used to frequent with your mother before she stopped coming home early and he took her place. Other nights, you would roll up some joints with Harley in your dorm room while talking about whatever was on your mind; yet whenever she asked you about Ken, he almost always arrived in front of your door as if on cue, and you never got to tell her that you could never love anyone the way you loved him. (You had a feeling she knew.) The evenings you cherished the most, however, were the ones you spent hanging out at the park with the two of them, smoking pot while doing your assignments and watching the sunset together.

Freshman year ended with a core memory of you pushing Ken into the lake before he pulled you in with him. Harley laughed until she couldn’t breathe, one hand holding a half-smoked joint and the other recording the two of you with her phone.

Three months into sophomore year, your father came for a month-long visit as he usually did every year, and you didn’t return home on the weekends as you usually did whenever he came. When you were still in high school, you would have to either stay and listen to their screaming matches, both the hostile and obscene, or lie to your parents that you had some group work or extracurricular project so you could go to one of those awful house parties; fuck one of the guys you met at said party—that was, if Ken wasn’t there, because you would definitely pull him to the nearest empty room for a quickie if he was there; and sleep over at one of your friends’ houses, talking about anything and everything except you would stay quiet when they told stories of their fathers showing up at their rehearsals and their mothers baking homemade cakes for their birthdays. You never told anyone what was happening. Not even Ken, let alone his mother. You were just happy to be out of that house. Now that you were in college, your reasons were at least closer to the truth. Assignments. Group projects. Final exams. Student Council stuff. Preparations for career exhibitions and campus festivals. Debate practice for another state championship—you won three titles throughout college, yet your father would only acknowledge with an almost disinterested hum whenever you told him. (You didn’t play softball competitively anymore. Your parents made you drop the sport.)

You hated how you fell back into your old habits whenever your father visited—you hadn’t indulged in them last year since he didn’t visit, and you quietly thanked God because there was no way you were going to spend your most vulnerable moments with that insufferable jock. This time, though, you found yourself smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day and looking for someone to kneel for.

Of course, you didn’t even let yourself think of pulling Ken down with you. As much as you would rather have him, you cared for him enough to not put him through what you had put him through in high school. But Ken knew you. Perhaps it was his fear of losing you again. Perhaps it was out of his own selfishness to keep you all to himself even if you weren’t his. He was the one who fell back into old habits for you. Whenever you called him to ask where he was on the weekends, he would drop whatever he was doing at that moment and come to you. Sometimes, the two of you would go on a night ride—on his bike because he didn’t trust you to drive, given your state of mind—and he would fuck you in the dark alleyway next to that old diner after eating two large burger meals together. At times like this, you didn’t even need to smoke or drink afterward because you would find yourself drunk merely from the pleasure and adrenaline rush. Other times, when his roommate got the hint and made himself scarce, Ken would take you on his bed, and you wouldn’t have any other choice but to be as quiet as possible. Then, even if you were the one who fell asleep in his room, he would always be the one leaving before you woke up in the morning, and you would never wait until he returned. 

One day, while you were watching the sunset with Ken and your roommate, you received a call informing you that your parents had been in a car accident and were killed on impact. This wasn’t the first time you broke down. But it was the first time Ken had ever seen you collapse in on yourself like a planet turning into a black hole.

“They’ll be buried in Japan,” you uttered flatly. “I called my uncle. He said he will be picking them up next week, but he won’t be staying long.”

Ken frowned. “Are you going–”

“No.”

If you had to suffer, you wanted to suffer here, where all the worst memories of your family resided. (Even if it meant staining the happiest days of your life with him.) Japan was home to your childhood and the innocence you had lost a long time ago, and there was no way you would taint it with your deep, irremediable sorrow. You were never going back there. You were never going back home.

(Have you ever had one?)

Ken tried to be there when you mourned. But you had shut him and even Harley out after your uncle picked up your parents’ ashes. You spent three days glued to your bed, only getting up to eat something and brush your teeth when your roommate practically dragged you to. Ken would bring the food his mother made, even bringing her to the dorms at some point, but you would only eat five spoonfuls at most and leave the rest for your roommate. You couldn’t look his mother in the eye, even after she pulled you into her embrace, and you let her leave without so much as saying goodbye. The one time you broke down again, Harley called Ken for help because you told her you just couldn’t even will yourself to get up. When he saw you curled up on your unmade bed, reeking as if you hadn’t showered for more than a couple days, he thought that you were the only person that could break his heart in a million different ways. He remembered carrying you to his mother’s car and making you stay at his place until you feel better. He remembered slowly feeding you the gruel his mother made for you as you limply leaned against his side on his bed. He remembered washing you in the tub when his mother wasn’t home, scrubbing your back as your tears fell into the bathwater and your cries echoed in the bathroom.

His mother only reluctantly let you go back to your dorm a week later. By then, you already felt a little more like yourself, yet Ken still insisted on helping you. He would bring his mother’s food for you and walk you to your classes whenever he could, even if his classes were on the other side of the campus. He would buy some things you offhandedly said you needed to stock in your dorm and wait for you to finish showering, standing idly outside the communal showers area, no matter how much time you took. He would soothe you in ways he only knew how—with hushed praises, hands entangled with yours, kissing away the tears that fell either out of pleasure or grief—and left a glass of water, something to eat, and morning-after pills for when you woke up. To him, this was how he could love you without loving you. To you, this was a reminder that you would never be deserving of his warmth.

Two months passed. Everything seemed to return to normal—as normal as it could be, Ken thought, because there was something off about you after you spent your winter break in Japan. Upon your return, you started coming to those frat parties again, but you would come back more skittish each time. Perhaps you were just drinking, Harley said, but that was enough reason for Ken to start coming to the same parties you were invited to. He noticed how color had slowly faded from your cheeks as they hollowed bit by bit; how the dark circles around your eyes became more noticeable, even with all the makeup you wore; how you grew thinner every month, eating only once a day, becoming frail underneath your rapture. He should have known that the way you casually wiped off your nosebleed while smoking at the park was a dead giveaway; yet, somehow, realization only dawned on him when you rejected his warmth for the first time in the years that you had burned him in yours. Brokenhearted was an understatement. He lost you again—not to the bittersweetness of unspoken love, but to the malignity of worldly subservience.

One of his biggest, if not the biggest, regrets in life was not stopping you right then and there.

Summer break—everyone and their mothers held a party. Ken remembered that night awfully well that it became the stuff of his nightmares. He spent half the night looking for you; he didn’t even need to talk to you, he just needed to know you were there. Some of his friends noticed how distracted he was, and when they brought it up, he waved them off, saying he had just seen a familiar face before joining their conversation. He hoped they didn’t notice how bitter his laugh sounded when they teasingly asked if he was looking for you. Usually, it wouldn’t be this hard to find you. Whenever there was a party, you would be at the center of it. Your enthusiasm whenever you came to one of these frat parties contrasted with your more mellowed out self in those dimly lit house parties in high school. Yet, as the clock neared two in the morning and he still couldn’t find you, he reminded himself of how there had been something off about your high spirits.

“Ken?”

Upon hearing a familiar voice, Ken blinked rapidly and realized that he had been in a stupor. Instead of one of his friends, it was Harley who had called out his name, and he was surprised to see her there. He noticed that she hadn’t been coming to the same parties anymore and remembered you mentioning it was probably because she finally had a girlfriend. He brushed off the thought when he saw concern etched on her face, but before he could even open his mouth to ask, she beat him to it.

“Have you seen her?”

“No…?” Ken frowned. “No, why?”

Harley clicked her tongue. “I swear, she’s–” She took a sharp inhale of breath before continuing. “Can you help me find her?”

“Well, yeah, but–” Ken’s frown deepened when he took notice of how Harley kept looking around the room restlessly. “Is something going on with her?”

“Yes!” She snapped, and judging by the look on her face afterward, she probably didn’t mean to. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips before she continued. “Yes, and you gotta help me find her before she does anything stupid.”

“Okay, okay,” Ken said, raising both hands, gesturing to Harley to calm down. It did little to pacify her, as she continued to look around the room restlessly. He subconsciously followed gaze as he asked, “Where was she the last time you saw her?”

“She was right here, I swear–” Harley cut herself off when she recognized someone in the crowd before repeatedly tapping on their shoulder. “Hey, did you see a girl in a black dress here before?”

She uttered your name afterward, and the person’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, her?” They turned slightly, extending a forefinger to point in a direction. “Yeah, I think I saw her going into the bathroom over there.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Ken was pretty sure he bolted toward the bathroom at record speed without so much as saying ‘thank you’ to the person who gave him and Harley the heads-up. They must have looked like madmen shoving people aside left and right, and had he not had a literal life-or-death situation at hand, he would have gotten himself into a fight with how hard he shoved some people and how indifferent he was in the face of their indignation. When they finally arrived in front of the bathroom, the door was slightly ajar, and the sight of a pool of black on the floor made his breath hitch.

“Oh, no.”

He swung the door open so hard that it hit the wall with a loud bang, stunning the crowd near the bathroom. Harley immediately dropped onto her knees next to you with a loud thud. “Oh, no, no, no, no–hey, hey, wake up!”

Everything that happened afterward was a blur to him. Your roommate yelled and gestured wildly at Ken to turn on the lamp, which he did after barely registering her words. He froze when he saw you lying on the floor, motionless, pale as a ghost that he thought you might as well have turned into one. Time slowed down as more people flooded the scene, yelling and screaming at each other in panic, and everything was just too much. He tuned them out as he slowly kneeled and reached out to brush your hair out of your face, the blood from your forehead staining the tips of his fingers. His disbelief turned into a sickening realization that made the contents of his stomach rise up his throat. It was you. It was really you.

Ken couldn’t think straight as he lifted you in his arms and carried you out of the bathroom before Harley could even get another word in. How could he? The blood on his fingers felt warm, yet you were as cold as a fucking corpse. He could barely feel the rise and fall of your shoulders as you breathed. All of his rage and heartache, including the resentment he had for you, fueled him as he yelled at people to get the fuck out of the way! and carelessly shoved anyone who didn’t. When he finally got outside, he realized you didn’t even feel warm against the chill of the midnight wind. Fortunately, the ambulance arrived just as he was about to run and carry you to the nearest hospital himself. The paramedics tried to stop him from getting in the ambulance, only relenting when he almost punched one of them. He didn’t remember getting to the hospital or how he ended up spending the night at your bedside—just the overwhelming fear that he could have lost you for good.

That night, it was his first time smoking a cigarette out of his own will.

“You can’t keep doing this shit.”

“You don’t fucking get it.”

“I don’t need to fucking get it when I can see that you’re fucking up yourself!”

You couldn’t even reply to that.

“Did you even know how scared I was? How scared Ken was? God, I don’t care if you’re a total bitch, just don’t do this shit to yourself!”

“I had it under control–”

“Under control? You fucking overdosed. That’s not under control, that’s out of fucking control!”

This time, you snapped. “Well, yelling at me isn’t going to fucking fix anything!”

Ken stood outside your hospital room, leaning against the wall next to the door. He sighed as soon as the screaming match started. This wasn’t the first time you and Harley fought with raised voices and unrestrained spite since she found out about your addiction, straining both your throats and friendship after each fight. Still, neither of you had ever escalated things, so he simply listened from where he stood, a heavy weight resting on his chest as the two of you exchanged words he knew you would regret down the line. Her last words to you, however, would probably haunt you for the rest of your life.

“You know what? If you don’t want me to stop you from killing yourself, fine. Go kill yourself if you want.”

Even Ken staggered upon hearing the words that left her lips.

“Harley–!” He heard you call for your roommate, whose heels clicked on the floor and echoed closer to the door. As she opened the door, he heard you yell, “Fuck you!”

He gave a sideways glance toward Harley as she got out of the room. She visibly jumped when she noticed his presence but quickly composed herself and closed the door behind her. A deep, exasperated sigh left her lips as she hung her head. “Sorry.”

He waved off her apology in reassurance. “You okay?”

A shake of her head, then silence. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward either—it was the first time he wordlessly understood Harley when she looked up at him tiredly because ‘Why won’t you let anyone help you?’ and he could only slacken his frown because ‘I want to know why, too.’ She glanced at the floor beneath her heels, pondering for a few moments before finally speaking her mind.

“Can you look after her?”

To that, he offered her a small, sad smile.

“Yeah, I will.”

That was the last time Ken—and you—ever saw Harley. She moved off-campus, blocked your number and all your social media accounts, and never even spared you so much as a glance whenever you passed by. You also didn’t bother to approach her, guilt gnawing at you like maggots eating rotten flesh. By the time you started your senior year, you never saw her on campus. Ken was the only witness to your absolution.

(You wondered if he was God himself, with how forgiving he was.)

Four months into junior year, you finally came back to your house. One of your aunts was kind enough to help organize your mother’s belongings after the funeral and pay for cleaning services throughout the year your house was empty. You found yourself standing in the middle of the living room, hollow. You hadn’t been here for a year. Everything stayed the same. Everything—except your mother’s heels were no longer displayed on the shoe rack in the foyer, her favorite episode of Love Island wasn’t playing on the widescreen TV you could see from upstairs, and her liquor cabinet was void of her favorite bottles of Pinot noir. Everything, except your mother’s nonchalant ‘Welcome back, how was school?’ didn’t greet you when you came in, her dulcet voice no longer spoke of your achievements as she introduced you to your new neighbors, and her drunken laughter wasn’t echoing in the living room as she offered another drink to yet another younger man whose face you didn’t bother to remember. Everything stayed the same. Everything except you.

You would have grabbed a kitchen knife and killed yourself if the doorbell hadn’t rung.

Disoriented from your own thoughts, you willed yourself to stagger toward the door and open it. Ken stood there, one hand running through his unruly hair and the other holding his helmet. His eyes softened as he studied your features, while you offered him a confused look.

“Why are you here?”

He shrugged. “So you won’t be alone.”

There must be some divine punishment for how you had molded him into this—a young man who only wanted the slightest bit of love you could give, but you never did. You wanted to reach out, feel his warmth in your arms, and say ‘Thank you for never leaving me alone.’ You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs and strain your throat and your neck muscles, either saying ‘I can do this myself’ or ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ You wanted to look him in the eye and say ‘I love you,’ with every word echoing throughout the world to let him know that he was your world. But you settled with an apprehensive stare that you didn’t know he could look through.

“I’m fine–”

“No, you’re not,” he said with a firmness you hadn’t expected. He saw how you were taken aback and let his jaw unclench, his gaze soften, his voice lower. “We promised, right?”

Then he held out his little finger and you were sixteen again, breaking each other’s hearts for the first time.

“Friends forever.”

Ken looked at you with your father’s long-lost fondness and your mother’s forgotten tenderness. You wanted to hook your little finger around his and offer him the slightest hint of a smile you could muster, so you did. You wanted to take a deep breath, press your head against his chest, and hear—feel—his heartbeat, so you did. He held you closer, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo in your hair, his free hand soothingly rubbing your back. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his torso as you pressed yourself closer to him, relishing in his warmth while burning him in yours once again.

(You didn’t tell him the way he said it sounded more like a proposal than a promise.)

“You don’t have to stay.” But I want you to.

He let out a contemplative hum that reverberated through both his body and yours. You found the slight vibration comforting.

“But I want to.” You don’t even have to ask me.

That day, you started packing up with his help. You showed him the albums of your childhood, told him the stories behind each photograph, and spoke fondly of your father for the first time in years. The next day, he checked and washed your bike and your mother’s car—which you sold later on in the afternoon, helped you pack all the medals and trophies you had won since middle school, and dragged you outside to mess around with the sprinkler system one last time. On the last day, he carried all the boxes and stacked them downstairs so the movers could easily move them, you cooked your mother’s mac and cheese recipe and he held you as you cried while eating, and the two of you took out your old star projector and turned it on in the living room, where both of you talked yourselves to sleep. Those three days were the first time in years that your touches didn’t lead to anything more.

You moved out to a studio apartment near downtown, sent the rest of your mother’s belongings back to her family in Japan, and rented a storage space for the things you couldn’t fit in your apartment. Ken would come over almost every day and sleep over every weekend, spending your shared free time playing video games, catch ball, or poker. (Strip poker, sometimes.) Two months later, he practically moved in, what with how many of his clothes were in your wardrobe and how his toothbrush was always next to yours in the bathroom. Six months later, the two of you practically became parents to a stray tabby cat named Mochi, whose favorite thing to do was to nap nearly all day and only seemed to stay awake when you and Ken decided to shove your tongues in each other’s mouths and your hands in each other’s pants.

A year later, you gave him your sobriety coin.

The harsh overhead fluorescent lights glared at him as he stared down the empty forms laid down on the reception desk in front of him. Instead of filling them out, his mind wandered to his bloodstained jacket, now sealed in a bag somewhere in the hospital. One of the nurses had said something about preventing contamination, but he could barely register her words with how the faint smell of iron still lingered in his nose even after he washed off the blood from his hands. His eyes then flickered to them; the red of your blood now replaced by the redness of his own skin after he had vigorously scrubbed it off, leaving small scratches on his palms. Then his mind wandered to you. You and the crimson painting your face. You and the white staining your nose. You, smiling whenever you saw his face in the crowd. You, laughing at every one of his stupid jokes. You, lying down on the bathroom floor with dazed eyes looking straight at him and an unspoken apology he could hear over the music before you passed out. You, lying down on the sidewalk with the same look in your eyes and a fear he couldn’t quite place before you went limp and closed your eyes as he tried to stop the blood flowing from your torso.

(His bike wobbled when he caught a glimpse of his bloodstained hands while speeding off to the hospital.)

A dull ache returned to his bruised cheekbone, pulling him out of his train of thought, and he hissed at the slight pricking he felt when he brought up his hand to touch it. The papers in front of him captured his attention once again. He forced his brain to work as he deciphered the rows of kanji written on them. It was easy, at first. Your name. Birthday. Blood type. Medical history. He thought it wasn’t his place to disclose your old habits. (Even if he was one of them.) But then he realized he didn’t even know how to properly spell your smoking and addiction history in Japanese, and his frown deepened when he read the address, emergency contact, and insurance details columns.

“Wait, uh,” he said, flipping through the papers, his eyes darting between the columns before he handed one of the forms to the nurse behind the desk. “I don’t know if I could fill some of these.”

“Oh,” the nurse exclaimed softly, glancing over the paper in her hand. “Do you know anyone we could contact on her behalf? Her relatives, perhaps?”

Ken couldn’t come up with an answer. Your parents and his mother had already passed. He knew nothing about your extended family, and from the way you spoke or avoided speaking about them, he figured that you wouldn’t want him to call them even if you were on your deathbed. He did think of his father and the possibility that you had met him after you came to Japan, but the resentment that simmered in his chest made him tighten his grip around the pen in his hand as he shook off the thought. He wasn’t going to call his father. He would never.

“Uh, no,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re not on good terms,” he continued. “I don’t have their contacts, and I don’t know if they’d even come if you called.”

“I see,” the nurse said, nodding as she handed back the paper in her hand to him. “Then please just fill out these forms as best as you can, sir. If you need any help, please let me know.”

He nodded and muttered a ‘thank you’ before making quick work of filling out the forms, writing down what he knew about you. On the other hand, he left your daughter’s forms mostly, if not completely, empty. Your daughter. A flash of indignation burned for a moment in his chest before disappearing just as quickly as it came. No older than five years old, he recalled. He wondered if you had her after you left Los Angeles. He wondered if you had called him to meet at that old diner to tell him. He wondered if, had he not been drunk and you actually told him, there would at least be a reason for him to be a part of your world—your daughter. His daughter. Ken swore his heart tightened, threatening to shrivel, at the thought of you raising a child alone in a country where you didn’t have anyone else.

(What if you were alone all this time?)

“Would you like to see your daughter? She’s asleep right now, but she should be waking up anytime soon.”

Ken barely registered the nurse’s words, but when he did, they almost gave him whiplash as he snapped his head to look at her. “Huh?”

The nurse herself seemed to have asked him the question without properly looking at him, thus not seeing the bewildered look on his face, preoccupied with whatever was on her desk. “Would you like to see–” She cut herself off when she finally looked up at him, her own expression slowly turning into one of mortification. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I assumed–”

His hand waved off her rushed apology, reassuring her that he didn’t take offense to the question. “Yeah, yeah, no, i-it’s alright,” he stuttered. “She’s–she’s not my daughter, but…” His words trailed off to give way to a momentary silence before he asked, “Can I see her?”

With an understanding nod and another apology, the nurse led Ken to the pediatric ward and into one of the rooms. An older nurse was already there, sitting by the bedside with a clipboard in her hands. She gave him a small smile as she got up from her seat to move to the corner of the room, muttering a ‘Please don’t mind me’ as she sat down. Perhaps she was just taking precautions, considering that he wasn’t listed as an immediate family member. He thanked her, turning his attention to the child sleeping on the bed, breath hitching when he realized something.

She looked so much like you. A carbon copy of you—the you he had seen in a photograph your father took on your fourth birthday, dressed in a pretty pink dress and a blue paper hat as you posed with the candled cake, a Duchenne smile on your face. (You said it was the happiest day of your life because it was the only time you remembered your father’s warmth.) The you he had seen in another picture in your childhood album, where you sat on your mother’s lap, laughing and playing the piano together. (You told him your mother stopped playing when you got into high school.) The you he had seen in a Polaroid shot your mother took when you were fifteen, a rare moment amidst your spiraling home life, where you were curled up on the couch, fast asleep in your party outfit with your old teddy bear in your arms. (You gave him that photograph; he kept it in his wallet to this day.)

Ken’s eyes widened, and he sat up straighter in his seat when her eyes slowly opened, revealing a pair of gray orbs strikingly similar to his own. Fear and confusion were etched on her face, but they melted away when her eyes gleamed with recognition upon seeing him—and all he saw was the 6-year-old boy who had just moved to Los Angeles and didn’t speak a word of English.

“Mr. Nana?”

“Huh?”

Her weak, slightly hoarse voice must have alerted the nurse in the corner of the room, because she was right by their side within seconds. The nurse asked her how she was feeling and checked her vitals, her own voice low and gentle so as to not scare her patient. Both the nurse and your daughter kept glancing at him every now and then, and after she fully regained consciousness, her eyes never left Ken’s.

“She keeps calling you ‘Mr. Nana,’” the nurse chuckled softly. “I think she’s referring to your jersey number, Mr. Sato.”

A small smile made its way onto Ken’s face. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Would you like to talk to him, sweetheart?”

Your daughter nodded bashfully, and the nurse helped her sit on the bed. He took it as a cue to move closer, gently dragging his chair to avoid the shrill sound of its metal legs against the floor. He let his shoulder slump a little so he could look at her at her eye level, though her gaze nervously flickered between him and the nurse standing by the other side of the bed.

“Hi,” Ken asked softly and awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

She blinked at him a couple times. “Emi.”

Emi. Emiko. His mother’s name.

“Emi?” He croaked out, and she nodded. A moment of silence passed between them before he took a deep breath and let his smile return to his face. “That’s a pretty name.”

“...Thank you,” Emi said shyly, glancing up at him before looking back at her fidgeting thumbs. “Mama said I’m named after someone pretty.”

(You really were the only person who could break his heart in a million different ways.)

He let out an amused snort. “Is that so?”

She nodded again; the next time she opened her mouth to speak, her surfacing excitement reminded him of whenever you talked about the topics you learned at debate practice or the things you just couldn’t discuss with anyone else but him.

“Mama also said that you’re the best baseball player in the world. Is that true?”

The greatest living player, you once said. “Yeah,” he chuckled softly. “Yeah, that’s right.”

If he hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have thought that Emi had just been in a car crash a few hours ago. The little girl nearly bounced with how giddy she was, eyes widening and lips parting in wonder. His own smile widened at the sight and when he asked, “Do you like baseball too?”

“Yes!” Emi answered enthusiastically. “Mama showed me that- that when you play, you can hit the ball reeeally far!”

Ken let out a chuckle, warmth spreading in his chest when the thought of you singing his praises crossed his mind. “I can show you how to hit the ball really far too,” he said, trailing off to ponder on something before continuing. “When you get better, I’ll show you. How’s that sound?”

The proposition made Emi turn to look at the older nurse, seemingly for reassurance, and she simply nodded in Ken’s direction in response. Emi’s eyes gleamed in delight, a small smile on her face, and he couldn’t help but notice just how much she resembled you when she nodded bashfully.

(Maybe, just maybe, you’re finally home.)

taglist: @mochminnie

[mayearies]

CATS ALIKE .. miles g. morales ⟡

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 miles g. morales x fem! reader , fluff , no disclaimer

𐦍༘⋆ SYNOPSIS; you wanted a cat. miles did not. he made this pretty clear. he ignored, dismissed, and persuaded you to stop asking for a while. however, it came back again and again and again. guess how he caved.

WC; 728

𐦍༘⋆ NOTES; old fic i wrote also test for engagement i guess

౨ৎ

he purposely avoided your eyes for a while now. a little bit too long for both of your liking. he flipped through thr channels on the tv as he held you in his lap and you kissed him all over his face, muttering the word ‘please’ without break.

miles grumbled, knowing he would cave pretty soon. he had a sweet tooth for those chocolate lips of yours. he sighed loudly, throwing his head back on the arm of the sofa before looking at you with an annoyed expression. “if i do this for you, promise me you’ll shut up about it.” you nodded in glee.

you knew how to hold your end of the bargain, just one small favor. one small thing couldnt hurt his cold and stoic soul. he took you to the nearest petshop on the block since you wanted this more than ever. a cat.

miles didn’t like the idea. he was away most nights and didnt want something there to create more of a mess than you already did of his room (he would scold you but you knew he didnt really care that much). he could think of a million reasons why this was a bad idea. the only plus was that it was cute.

“which one you want, ma?” he followed you down the isle of cages and cries of the kittens, “preferably not the ones that shed a lot.” his voice sounded uneasy and skeptical. he knew how bad you wanted this.

“relax a little. these little things are so cute, how could you not want one?” 

he crossed his arms and watched as you stuck your hands into the bars to pet each one of them, to which some would hiss and deny. “maybe because i dont like cats,” he hissed. “their fur gets everywhere.”

“i say it’s worth it,” you replied sassily to match his tone.

“of course you do.”

you saw one in particular that caught your attention. a black cat that was missing an eye. the shopkeeper said he was born that way and that nothing was wrong with him. he was adorable, just as fiesty too. it didnt let you touch it until it smelled your hand. even then it was still ready to fight. reminds you of someone else you know. “i want this one.”

“the things i do for you.”

you laughed under your breath, “you say it like it’s a bad thing.”

that night, you were so excited to play with the little guy. miles however, could care less. he didnt want much to do with it. well, it may not come off as that because he bought the most expensive bed and cat litter for it, despite it being no older than a few weeks. 

you wanted to play with it first, but where’s the fun in that? “how about, i set up the cat litter and stuff and you get to know our new friend together?” miles raised an eyebrow as he set down the carrier. “is this some typa excuse?”

“no! just spend some time with it. last thing i ask, i promise.”

miles sighed and agreed. so much for promises. he opened the cage and waited for it to crawl out, but it didn’t. the sudden change in enviornment and scent must’ve been just kicking in. he reached his finger into the cage and felt the ends of the whiskers ticking it. then, it licked him. he wasn’t taken aback by it but it felt odd.

you finished installing the cat litter box and started walking towards the living room once you heard the tv on again, “so, how’d it-“ and the last thing you thought you’d see tonight just laid in front of you. miles was watching the screen as the little furball wrapped around itself on his chest. it was purring and by the torn fabric in his hood, you could tell it was kneading him.

“well, look who got along,” miles glared at you for that as you walked over to lay down behind him. “still don’t like cats?”

he playfully scoffed and rolled his eyes, his fingers drifting and gazling along the fur of its tail. “im still wondering why you chose that name for him.”

“whats wrong with it?” 

“who names their cat ‘meows morales?’”

@ MAYEARIES ‘23

[skullvgirl]

GENDER : girlboss | barou

incl. the bad boy, barou

warnings. fem reader, fluff, crack, school!au, established relationship

an's. this one is for @chxxrybxxmb ≽ܫ≼, this was fun to write, tysm for the idea.

it was hard to talk to barou, he knew it was—he said it himself.

he wasn't friendly or cheerful like the rest if the team, he didnt have the social energy or demeanor they possessed.

people were scared of him to say the least ( not that he minded so much ) so scared in fact the only ones who would ever even talk to him besides the team was his teachers.

and you of course.

it was late afternoon and barou was just finishing up practice. you were here today ( on rare occasion ) to pick him up for dinner.

it didn't take you long to find the massive soccer field along with the massive team your boyfriend was on, he was loud as ever as he made the last goal, sealing the victory for the varsity team that seemed to playing the JV team.

"poor them, didn't even stand a chance" you shook your head. the score board read 5-0

you felt more comfortable making your way over to barou now as everybody was picking up equipment and packing up. it was a good time to snag his attention and let him know you'd be waiting in the car when he was ready.

"hey watch where you're fucking going dipshit"

it came from a JV player, whos name you didn't know, he purposely had bumped into your boyfriend as he was carrying equipment back, making sure it was hard enough to leave a bruise.

oh no

"excuse me?"

oh no this isnt good

barou didn't waste another second, immediately strutting towards the younger boy and yanking his shoulder back so now they were face to face.

"do we have a fucking problem?" barou stated agrily, cracking his knuckles together in preparation for what he was about to do.

the boy was shaking but didn't seem to want to back down, the whole fields eyes were on him now.

" i-I don't know, do we?" his voice came out cracked and shaky but he pressed on further, pumping his chest out in hopes of seeming intimidating.

it wasn't working.

no, no, no! shouei you stupid stupid man ! you could get kicked off the team for this !

you didn't waste any time, sprinting over and making your presence known to both your boyfriend and the bitter teamate.

"hit him and i will rip your balls off", barou acted shocked to see you here. he knew you were coming he just didn't think so soon.

barou's shoulders immediately untensed and he glanced over at the other players who watched in awe at how easily you were able to calm him down.

"thats what i thought, now get your stuff and get im the car, before someone really gets hurt" you said, not bothering to pay attention to the shocked faces of the team.

barou didn't say another word, but took one last glance at the other player at another last glance at you.

to the player he mouthed 'you are so lucky she's the boss of me, or you would be dead !'

and to you he said quitely "sorry love, won't happen again"

you only rolled your eyes and tracked his moving figure as he went back to the building, the other players however didn't move a muscle.

what the fuck just happened? they all thought.

you made your way to leave.

" wait a minute..."

you turned back, tilting your head to signal you were listening.

" you two are dating ??!"

from then on out it was public news that the two id you were together , although you'd been in a relationship for months now it seems more people were aware now that the egoistic and selfish soccer player had a super cool sweet girl girlfriend who he treated like everyday was her last.

like in the cafeteria

he sits alone with you and eventually people realized he makes your lunch—everyday, because you're always asking what he is making for you tomorrow.

can you believe that? barou, king barou making breakfast everyday without fail.

unimaginable

or the library

people dont spy nessacarliy but this one time, you got caught brushing his very long and lushess hair while he practicallypurred like a kitten on your lap. he regrets it with his whole heart. he ended up on the BLLK HIGH Almost Friday Page.

and on the soccer field of course

the score it 1-1, no overtime and sudden death. barou has the ball, and although he practically 10 feet out of his shooting range, he decides to take a chance.

he shoots

he scores

the crowd goes wild.

it's not long after he's crowded by the many other players that he makes his way to you, picking you up and twirling you around in his arms, kissing your face softly while everyone was there.

pda wasn't really his thing, but he didn't really care. your support was more than deserving of his affection and he wasn't shy if the whole world could see.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring my ex's threats of suicide?

this is a very old story, but it keeps eating at the back of my brain because i feel like the asshole in the situation, even though people close to me say im not.

i (19nb) broke up with my girlfriend (16f) and told her that we may get back together in the future. we broke up because she was incredibly emotionally draining, it was a long distance relationship, and also, i felt uncomfortable being nearly 20 dating someone in high school (i was also uncomfortable with our age difference for the year prior, but thats a whole other can of worms).

after breaking up, i stayed in contact, because she was my friend and i still liked her as a friend, just not a partner. she had some pretty severe home life issues, and had made extreme comments before ("nobody loves me, everyone hates me, no one would care if i disappeared" those sorts of things). now, i personally chalked it up to be a mix of teenage angst and homelife issues, but she had never made outright threats on her life before. it was always vague, or just an outright meltdown that i would care for her during.

i told her i was taking time for myself, and would probably not date anyone. a few months pass and i meet my then partner (now spouse). i know i fucked up in not telling her that i was seeing someone new, but i didnt really want the backlash of her screaming and yelling and crying over this, so i didnt tell her we were dating, just that i was spending a few months in his country (he had a place of his own, was older and more financially stable, it made sense at the time) and we had grown close.

it came out during a call, about 2 months into me dating and living with my partner, and probably about 5/6 months after i had broken up with them. she had asked if/when i was moving back home, and i told them i didnt know, because i was planning on living in his country. she asked if i was dating him, and i didnt want to lie, so i said we were. she got incredibly hostile, telling me that i shouldnt have lied to her and that i had said i wasnt going to date anyone. she completely melted down, getting incredibly angry to the point of tears, before telling me she was going to end it.

i panicked at that point and started trying to help her through tears, telling her i would do anything, before my partner took my phone from me and blocked her on that social media, calmly telling me to message her friends the situation, and that it wasnt my issue to deal with. i finished blocking her on our other socials (with her messaging me that she was so sorry), did what he said, and waited.

her friends confirmed she was okay later, but they were upset with me for not sticking around and helping her through her suicide attempt.

i still feel like an asshole, even though its been nearly 4 years since its happened. i feel like i should have done literally anything except what i did. ik my partner did the right thing, but also. i dunno. i feel bad i guess.

[imaniwriting]

Rafe Cameron Doing Lines and then being caught by reader who he promised to get clean very very angsty pleasee

(hate but love this at the same time)

Warnings : usage of drugs, underage drinking at party, swearing (tell me if i missed any)

Summary : after rafe broke his promise once again he has to pay a bigger price than his drugs will ever cost

Genre : Angst, Angst, Angst

Rafe was complety lost. He did line after line not caring for a single thing around him, the thought of selling drugs long lost. He had become greedy, any person that walked his way to buy some he had shot down.

“Rafe, dude” yelled topper over the loud music blasting through the speakers. Rafe looked up at him with the 50 dollar bill still held at his nose. “dude i thought you wanted to get clean”

Rafe shook his head chuckling “topper, bro, you know damn well that i only tell y/n that because she keeps bugging me” topper stared down at the boy. “well good luck explaining that one” he had said pointing behind the boy where you stood.

You stared at Rafe anger mirroring in your eyes before he could yell your name you stormed out pushing past coupples that were grinding on each other making disgust kreep onto your face.

“y/n!” he yelled stumbling over his own foot. “y/n please I didnt mean it like that!” he reasoned trying to catch up with you but he was stoned and it didnt help that there was hundreds of people around him.

You quickly got to your car before ripping the keys out of your pocket. But that gave him enough time to reach her. “What Rafe? you wanna tell me that you’ll get clean so i can stop bugging you?” you spit out making him flinch slighty.

He isnt used to you speaking to him like that “baby im sorry, I promise i’ll-“ but before he could finish the sentence you slapped him across the face. “Stop!” you shouted at him. “Stop! Promises are supposed to make you not break them!” you continued now with tears in your eyes “we pinky promised Rafe! God, you told me you could quit anything aslong as you kept me!” you then met his eyes who were twitching lightly. “am i not enough?”

That question made Rafe frown. Did he really make you feel like that? Like you werent enough? He took both of your hands into his cupping them slightly. “Y/n please don’t do this” he said knowing what you were playing at.

He let your hands fall to your side before grabbing your face with both hands forcing you to stare into his eyes. He leaned in to kiss you on your lips but you moved your head to the side. “Y/n please, im sorry baby” he tried to convince you but you just coldly shook your head.

“We’re done Rafe” you said making him let go of your face. He had just lost the love of his life to some stupid substance he couldn’t get enough off. He also just realized that this loss would hurt him more than anything.

Not being able to do coke or any drugs seemed so much easier than loosing you. You placed the car keys into his hand “ you can have this back.” You said his hand trembled not being able to hold the weight of the keys. The keys he had given you on your birthday last week.

“Good bye Rafe” you had said before taking off into the dark night. He wanted to run after you and beg for your forgiveness, god, you wanted that he would but you knew that he would return to his old habits and he’d disappoint you once again even he knew.

[stringlessau]

IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)

Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.

One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun

This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different

All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married

Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao

Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art

Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.

His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.

It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design

That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit

A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper

I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice

I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice

Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design

Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful

Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless

Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do

Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today

THANKS EVERYONE <3

-Nick

[reorientation]

zyn anon. sorry again for the long ass updates I shall stop unless I get pregnant lmao.

speaking of, have more faith in me 😭 Ive been playing it mostly safe. kinda. I don't have to stop smoking and i dont want to 😒 and all this is mostly reversible unless he gets me pregnant, so I'm a lil more cautious. and im not pregnant i checked a few days ago, not because of a pregnancy scare but just paranoia lol im definitely a dumb whore tho. we've discovered he has a breeding kink. LMAO. lol. im so fucked

anyway so, as it turns out I was right about lacking self control.

he went on a camping trip for a few days, and i was really pent uppp and so was he lol. and when i came over to his place, almost immediately horny brain took over. we just started kissing on the couch, and took it to his room. thankfully his roommates still on holiday. i got so desperate and pathetic, i begged him to fuck me even though no iud yet. he was definitely enthusiastic lol. he only took his pants off enough to take his cock out. he also ripped my panties 😒 he went to grab a condom from the night stand,

he was like "gotta play it safe now aha" and i was like

"no. go bare. 🗿"

he didn't even question it, i was so wet and i felt how easily his cock slid on me before entering.

he only ever went raw a handful of times even before my failed vow of celibacy. since he thought it was dumb for me to get plan B even if he swore he didn't cum at all in me. other than that one time. he'd tell me when he's close, and immediately pull out to finish on me.

but this time it was so primal, being skin to skin and that bare and close was insane. he had a hand on my hip, and he'd basically pull me back down on his cock but fuck lol it just felt so strong. we stopped at one point, i was still all the way on his cock and on top of his lap but no riding. is that cockwarming?

idk but I want to do it again. i felt his dick like. move inside of me during that. all we did was make out but it was way too hot.

anyway, he pushed me on my back and told me he was close, as predicted, I told him to cum in me. he asked if I was sure and not only did i beg him to cum in me.

i told him to get me pregnant 😭

i wasn't thinking properly and I got scared immediately after saying it. i was worried it was gonna put him out of the mood but it did the opposite 😭😭 he asked smth like "oh, you wanna have my kids?" and omfg he kept mumbling about it. telling me to take it all deep, telling me hes gonna get me pregnant.

i came so hard, and only with penetration. it was such a weird feeling, and before i could become rational and tell him its just a prank. pull out. it was over, he came in me while mumbling about knocking me up 😭😭 i was short circuiting lol. and it was different than last time. it felt more shakey, and he kept doing these small thrusts after I think most of his cum was already pressed deep, and then he just settled all in me. he was soft by the time he pulled out, i was way too hazed out ngl

he came a lot. some started to drip down when he pulled out, and i felt him finger it back in me.

he said he didnt nut the whole trip, and was saving his cum for me. he knew id be too horny and impulsive to make good decisions. 😒.

as it turns out, he has a big thing for breeding, but was scared to tell me incase i took it a bad way.

im terrified of having a partner who gets off on the idea of getting me pregnant but I can't stay away.

i complained that id have to wake up so early to run out and get plan B, and buying it will be expensive.

so he told me to just not get it then. and I'm like .. well .. I'm not on any birth control and im full of cum .. like maybe risking it be a bad idea. ironically, like you had once suggested, he suggested I leave it up to chance.

I did take plan B after. twice lol. im still really anxious, but incredibly horny and I didn't know both could exist at once

he's arrogant now too. ill go over after work and when we're about to fuck, ill ask him to wrap it. and he's like "nah, don't feel like it tonight". he also threw out his condoms. but even if i bring my own he doesn't use them 😒

my birthcontrol method was to start riding him when he's about to get close, and pull off before he's about to cum. but he caught on and now just grinds me down on him as he's cumming

i told him about my detrans kink and he leans heavyy in it. or he probably is just an actual straight man. he reminds me daily that he can't believe i ever thought i was a boy. he doesnt even say it in a kinky way like he just means it. lol :/

im pretty much always thinking about it. everytime he finishes in me, im stuck dripping his cum for two days, and im still paranoid that ill be carrying more than just his cum from this blip up lol. and also, you taught me more about post nut clarity right. he told me to risk it maybe half an hour after he came. surely hed have post nut clarity and not actually want a baby, right?its weird to feel fear and horny at the same time.

(Previously)

have more faith in me 😭

-

I told him to cum in me. he asked if I was sure and not only did i beg him to cum in me. i told him to get me pregnant 😭

Oh, I certainly have faith in you, Anon. I know you're going to do just what you're supposed to. 🖤

Come on, sweetheart. Do you really expect to make it out of this without him putting a baby in you? You begged for him to knock you up, took a week's worth of his cum in your unprotected pussy, and then just lay there blissed out and hazy while he made sure every drop ended up inside you.

Sure, you took Plan B afterwards. But now he knows what kind of girl you are, and that you won't stop him from keeping you full of his cum. Sooner or later, you'll be ovulating, and you'll conceive for him.

And that makes you dripping wet, doesn't it? Knowing that your straight boyfriend, who never thought of you as anything except a girl, is doing his damnedest to give you a baby bump. That you already came off T for him, and now you're taking his load in your fertile pussy whenever he tells you to.

When the day of your IUD appointment comes, I hope he just holds you down and fucks his cum into you, instead of letting you go. Clearly, he'd be justified: you can't possibly claim to be a reliable source on what you really want.

You thought you wanted to be a boy, but you eagerly turned back into a girl the minute a straight man got his cock into you. You thought you wanted to be safe, and then you begged for him to knock you up. Hell, you thought Zyns were worth whoring yourself out for, and you don't even like them. Why should he think that not wanting to have his babies is the one way you really know your mind?

[savannahsdeath]

Hi <33 I love love love your writing and I really want your take on what fucking santa barbara!Ellie would be like if your up to it 🫶🫶

first of all THANK YOU💗💗 and yes ofc i tried my best !!

SANTA BARBARA!ELLIE X READER HEADCANONS + EXAMPLE ONESHOT

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut

writers note: its not like my typical hcs because this ones more like umm with plot?? idk how to say this but i hope ykwim😓ENJOY!!

🌿 she's definitely rough like im sure 100%

🌿 she would degrade you but she also praises you from time to time

🌿 now, hear me out, she doesnt have her usual smirk. like someeetimessss but mostly she looks so stern and focused youre literally scared to make a sound

🌿 she definitely doesnt care about making a mess. shed be sooo sloppy istg!!!!

🌿 she also doesnt care about whatever youre saying. she barely listens. everytime you hit her with a 'stop/too fast' she either completely ignores you or replies with some 'huh? what did you say?' and shed go even faster..

🌿 she def uses strap but also loves just using her fingers. she just wants to feel it ykwimmm

heres an example story(lets skip the plot)

its not really what i meant but whatever😓

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning, what seemed like an invitation for Ellie to shush you by pressing her lips to yours. It silenced you, but not stopped, as your inaudible groans were now caught in Ellie's throat.

You were unable to move, pressed against the wall, so she didnt need to hold you. With her free hands she started undressing you both, knowing you wont be able to do so by yourself. She didn't break the kiss though, only stopping for a second when she had to pull your shirt over your head and didn't have access to your face. She continued right after.

You're not sure when did you moved to the bed, but here you were, laying down beneath her.

She kissed your neck, leaving wet spots on it. She was moving down your body, as you played with her hair, shutting your eyes closed.

Not long after that, a few more of your body parts were red from her nibbling - inner thighs mostly.

Even though she took her time, it didn't take too long. She knew youre impatient and wasn't in mood to mess with you, not yet, not like that.

Soon after, she buried her face between your legs, planting the same messy kisses all over there.

Her hands were holding onto your thighs, preventing them from clenching. You knew her grip will leave bruises, painful ones too, but you didnt care.

Ellie's tongue was definitely doing a good job, playing with your clit, slidding in and out of your entrance.

Her fingers didn't loose up but her thumbs started gently tracing circles on your skin, which definitely made it seem less aggressive.

When she was finished with her mouth, one of her hands took the initiative. She was rubbing two of her fingers for a few short moments, before pushing them in.

You were finally able to see her face - her expression. She looked at you firmly, like one bad move could get you killed.

You were whining and whimpering, desperately begging her to slow down.

"Sh, shhh... Just take what youre given, will you?" The corners of her mouth moved slightly upwards, creating a little smile.

You nodded but continued squirming, your thighs trembling, breath shaking...

"Oh, dont be so dramatic. Youre doing good, you'll handle it, trust me." She reassuringly patted your side. "People survived worse things."

Did that help? Well...

But you knew its the best she can do when it comes to being nice. You couldnt blame her, not after you found out about her past. She killed more people than you ever talked with, after all..

Your mind went blank and you couldnt think of anything to say, so you kept mumbling the two words you always do - 'Ellie' and 'please'. At this point, it seems your mouth remembered how to say these. Your tongue knew exactly what to do to make them come out of your mouth, while it was struggling with any other word.

But it was enough for her to know what you want to say.

When youre finally done (she can tell youre close by the way you scream her name, so she knows when to go faster), she cleans you up with her toned expression.

"See? You'll live, atta fucking girl."