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#'even if this is not the intended reading i'll convince you it would be more interesting like this'

erideights · 7 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (5)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, three, four

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)

A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)

Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!

"Say it."

"Nope."

"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.

"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."

''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear.

In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."

''Anything?''

''Anything.''

Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath.

As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.

''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''

That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.

''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.

‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''

''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.

''Ouch''

"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''

''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.

There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.

It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.

Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.

…

And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time.

They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.

"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."

As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.

It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.

And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.

Goddamnhim.

"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."

"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."

"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."

Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden.

Is he actually that smart?

"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."

"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''

He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.

The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.

And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.

But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.

He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.

There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.

…

''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’

What.

He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.

He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''

''Including me''

''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”

''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.

(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.

In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.

''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''

…

Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.

(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.

The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.

Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.

Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.

It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.

Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.

But does she want it to pass? To fade away?

Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.

Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.

But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?

Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.

Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.

Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .

If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.

It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.

She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.

#the gif is an spoiler of the morning after #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy #buggy x reader

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auroreliis · 8 months

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Hey! I loved your Batfam movie night post. If you have the time could you write a fic with the platonic yandere Batfam and a sick reader. Maybe reader refuses to take any medication and the fam has to get them to take it. Or maybe reader is so fevered that they sob when someone (probably Bruce) isn’t holding them. Thanks for your time!!

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're sick

CW: no warnings

(not edited or proofread)

Richard let out an exasperated breath as he paced around in front of your bedroom door.

"Why do they have to be so difficult?", he mumbled under his breath, not intending for it to be heard, but Bruce made out what he said.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, the only noise being Dick's footsteps, before Bruce spoke, "I'll ground them", he begun, before adding, "And I'll take away their phone."

Richard stopped and turned to him, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hanging low, signaling disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? What exactly will that change? Just force them to take the medicine already!", fumed the younger of the two, clearly worried about you.

"No", said Bruce and Richard slightly leaned forward, as if he misheard.

"No? Why not? Don't you understand that they're sick? They're pale, trembling, weak and-"

"Stop", Bruce's words concluded the argument, "You'll wake them if you continue shouting."

Richard flinched. He couldn't help it.

His heart ached at the thought of you being in pain. It was even worse now that you had refused to take your medicine.

As your older brother, it's his job to protect you, but you're being so difficult.

Although he wanted to continue the argument in hopes of changine Bruce's mind, it was clear that they were done.

His jaw clenched to stop himself from saying anything stupid and with that he stormed off.

Bruce let out a sigh and leaned on a nearby wall. He was so tired. His energy was completely depleted from his worry.

Worry? No, it was more like fear.

Bruce was terrified. You were sick and had refused to take your medicine. He knows how serious certain illnesses can be, but you just refuse to take care of yourself.

You're doing nothing other than proving them right that you need them.

However, he's your father. He would never force you to take medicine. Deep down, he feels like he owes you at least a little freedom of choice, considering that you didn't want to be there in the first place.

His palm drags across his face, not fearing that he'll scratch his skin off, instead ruminating on his further course of action.

A cough made his eyes widen. It was your voice.

He rushed into your room and for a moment you were convinced he was going to trip.

"Is everything okay?", his voice was slightly shaky, as if he were trying to hide how scared he was for you. Going off how swiftly he shut his mouth, one would assume that he had planned to add more questions.

You wanted to nod your head, but lacked the strengh to do that, so you chose to hum in affirmation.

With blurred vision, you saw your father slightly bend forward, presumably after exhaling.

"Can you...", you wheezed, before realising that you lacked the lung capacity to go on.

Your father, however, wanted to hear the rest of your sentence.

"I can. I can do anything you want me to. What do you need? Would you like some water? Should Alfred make you some more soup? Would you like me to read you a story? Should I-", he went through all of his options, carefully observing your body language to see if any of his suggestions piqued your interest.

"...Hold me, please", you finally finished.

His gaze softened and his mouth formed a relieved smile as he exhaled. It took him time to answer, "Of course I can."

So you were alright. That was soothing.

His arms held you tightly, still being careful not to hurt you. The two of you layed there in silence.

Patience slowly ran out and before he could stop himself, he questioned you about the medicine.

His tone was gentle and as quiet as he could make it, almost sounding desperate.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the shortest way to confess your thoughts.

"Taste...", you croaked.

"Taste? Does it taste bad?", Bruce inquired, before remembering that you had troubles speaking, "I'll make sure you get some better tasting medicine. Will you take it then?"

You smiled and nodded, satisfied with the current arrangement.

No longer being able to stay awake, you drifted off to sleep.

It had been a few days now. Your condition had improved and you were taking the better tasting version of the medicine.

Today it was Dick's turn to feed you.

He was in a much better mood than a few days ago.

"Here comes the airplane- Come on, open up...", the spoon hovered in front of your closed mouth.

Your eyebrows lifted as you looked at him.

"Dick, I'm not thre-", before you could finish, he shoved the spoon into your mouth, causing you to gag.

While you did cough up half of the soup, the rest definitely made it to the intended destination.

After forcing out a few more coughs, you had finally cleared your windpipe, "WHAT THE HELL, DICK?"

"Sorry! Just had to make sure you would actually take it, unlike the medicine!", his innocent smile almost blinded you.

"What if I had choked?" you retorted

"You know that your big brother wouldn't let that happen", he dismissed your words with caretaker speech.

Your temptation to add a snarky remark or roll your eyes was supressed and you instead continued listenting to your brother boast about various topics which you didn't really pay attention to.

The two of you continued to enjoy spending time with each other, if you could call it that.

Under Dick's and Bruce's care, you always recover quickly.

#its only dick and bruce because the others would NOT be any help lol #dick grayson #yandere dick grayson #bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne #dc comics #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #batfam #x reader

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roosterforme · 7 months

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Adult Education Part 4 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake gets some more insider information about Jessica, and he decides to let her know exactly what he intends to do next. The heated moments in her office are about to boil over, until Jessica is hit with the feeling that Jake is starting to run cold.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Did you get her number yet?" Bradley asked in the locker room on Monday morning while Jake was changing into his flight suit.

Very begrudgingly, he said, "No, I did not." It had been almost a full day since he emailed Jessica, and all he got in return was radio silence.

"Damn... I've been messing around with my wife all over campus. I got a blowjob in a lecture hall last week, and you still don't have a phone number?"

Jake just rolled his eyes and said, "I'm hoping I'll see her again tomorrow."

"Sugar was right," Bradley said, shaking his head as he zipped up his own flight suit. "You're losing your touch."

Jake slammed his locker closed. "It's not like she's some random tag chaser from the Hard Deck, okay?" he growled. "She's smart, and she's gorgeous. And I doubt she's handing her phone number out to anyone who looks at her. I'm not in a rush for once."

Bradley smirked and held his fist out. Jake very slowly hit it with his own fist. "What is this?" he asked cautiously after the fist bump. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Sugar said she'd eat lunch with Dr. Reed today and try to see what's up, but only if I could determine if you really liked her and weren't just trying to fuck her."

Jake stopped the smart response on his lips before the words came out. He still wasn't sure what kind of rumors were circulating about Jessica, and he definitely didn't want to add to anything by coming on too strong or being an ass. Part of him was convinced he needed Bradshaw's wife on his side to make it to the next step. So he said, "I've been spending the vast majority of my time thinking about cooking dinner for her while she reads to me from a scientific journal. Not sure if that's the kind of information your wife is looking for."

Bradley looked shocked and his face paled. "Huh. If she has a titty tattoo, you're screwed, man. Completely fucked." But he was reaching for his phone now. "I'll text my wife and let her know."

"Thanks," Jake grunted, checking his email app one last time before closing his locker and heading out toward the hangar. As he looked over his jet and filled in the safety protocol sheets, he kept thinking about her. She would be fascinated by this, seeing all of her mathematical knowledge playing out. He could take her up in the air with him, and she would be delighted the entire time.

Jake would have already taken Jessica out to dinner last night and dropped her off at home with a kiss. But this wasn't playing out the way he imagined it would. If Bradshaw's wife didn't help clue him in on what was going on here, then tomorrow would be his last attempt. He was on the verge of getting his hopes up. He couldn't even look at the patch on his flight suit the same way anymore. Not after her elegant fingers had skimmed along the golden threads.

But he pushed everything from his mind the best he could, and he got up in the air for the training exercises with Phoenix and Bob. But when he got back to his locker around five o'clock, he saw an email from Jessica that had been sent eight hours ago. Jake nearly dropped his phone as he tried to open the app.

Dear Lieutenant Seresin,

I'm so pleased to hear that you enjoy the journals as much as I do. If you keep reading them from front cover to back cover, I'm sure you'll be rewarded with the knowledge that you're craving. I might even have to pull some of my own published articles for you to read... if you think you can handle that sort of thing.

My equations are not for the faint of heart. Bring your pencil on Tuesday but leave your skateboard. I wouldn't want to have to lecture you about skating in the academic buildings. We could be there all night.

Perpetually looking forward to my office hours now,

Dr. Jessica Reed, Ph.D

P.S.- If you liked that photo and are well behaved, maybe you can have more. Ones that aren't listed on the university website.

Jake had to juggle his phone again as he read the post script. "Holy shit," he drawled, his eyes skimming along the words a second and third time. He was in. He had to be? This was sent before any sort of lunch could have happened between his favorite physics professor and his favorite math professor. "Shit, shit, shit. Bradshaw!" Jake ran back past the lockers and toward the showers. "Bradshaw!"

"What?" Bradley called back from one of the stalls where steam was rising from the top, voice echoing loudly.

"What did your wife say?" Jake asked impatiently.

"Jesus, Hangman. I don't know. I haven't checked my phone yet."

Jake sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Well, how much longer are you going to be?"

"For fuck's sake! I don't know! I'm literally taking a shower. Is nothing sacred?"

Jake muttered, "I really need your wife's phone number," as he wandered back to sit on the bench in front of his locker and read the email again.

A few minutes later, a glaring Bradley strolled back over in his towel, reached into his locker and tapped his passcode into his phone. "Here, knock yourself out," he said, handing it to Jake. But then he snatched it back quickly with a look of panic. "Actually, let me just scroll and make sure she didn't send a dirty picture," he mumbled, swiping along his phone screen. "Nah, you're good."

Jake quickly found the one long message at the bottom of the thread and started to read it.

Thanks for packing my lunch today. I feel ridiculously spoiled when everyone else has to eat a sad looking microwave meal or grab something from that horrifying food truck next to Chippy's. You're the absolute best.

Jake glanced to where Bradshaw was getting dressed and fixing his hair. You might not immediately know it by interacting with him, but the man clearly loved his wife.

I shared some of the veggies and hummus with Jessica. I still don't know what went down with her and Brian Conley, but it's creepy the way he looks at her. But anyway, lunch was nice. I think I made a new friend? Because she's not annoying or old or a man, and she doesn't try to talk over everyone else. Oh, and she's definitely into Jake. She started to fidget and adjust her glasses when I told her that I saw him at the Hard Deck over the weekend and he asked about her. She's cute as a button. Tell Jake to just Keep Truckin' (that's a Grateful Dead reference for you, Beer Boy. Reward me later.)

"Truly, the two of you are disgusting," Jake said as he reached for his own phone. "I'm saving your wife's phone number." Once he had it saved in his contacts, he gave Bradley his phone back. "Thanks."

"Sure," Bradley grunted. "She get you what you were hoping for?"

Jake just smirked. "Dr. Tits never lets me down."

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

Jessica tried not to let her hesitancy show when she was invited to have lunch with the only female with tenure in the math department. This wasn't even the first time recently that she thought she might be able to make a friend at work, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself. One small step at a time with these things. She still wasn't exactly sure who to trust around here.

But when the other woman knocked on her door promptly at noon, Jessica opened her door and smiled. "Do you want to eat in here?" she asked, noting the lunchbox the other woman was holding which had a funky tie dye print.

"Sure, AP," she replied with a smile. Jessica's heart swelled with happiness; they actually had nicknames for each other. Advanced Physics and Advanced Calculus.

"Have a seat, AC," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk. Jessica knew her husband worked with Jake, and she really wanted to ask about him. But out of extreme caution, she kept her mouth shut as far as he was concerned. The last thing Jessica wanted was to make this kind female who was close to her own age and who seemed really cool thinking she was only interested in talking about the aviator she was crushing on. Instead she said, "So, tell me more about the mythical math department where they give tenure to women."

Then as she opened up the meal that her husband packed, she regaled Jessica with tales of fair treatment and an office with a view. And then she offered to share her lunch as Jessica ate a hot pocket. And while Jessica was munching on a carrot stick, the other woman said, "I was at this naval hangout over the weekend with my husband, and Jake was there. He asked me about you."

Jessica sat up straighter in her seat. There was still no response to her email from this morning, but she doubted Jake was allowed to just play around on his phone while operating a seventy million dollar aircraft. She slid her glasses a little further up her nose and said, "In an effort not to sound completely boy crazy... what did he want to know?"

She snorted. "Everything."

And that's when Jessica started to panic. Everyone in this part of San Diego State University had surely heard some rumors about her and Brian. She was mortified that this woman might have told Jake the truth. If she even knew the truth. But one of the lies or rumors would be just as bad. She wanted to hide under her desk now, and all she could manage to say was, "Oh."

But she just kept going. "Between you and me, Jake's going a little crazy that you apparently won't let him have your phone number? Which I think is absolutely what that man needs. So keep up the good work. He's too handsome, and he knows it. I don't think he's ever encountered someone like you before."

Jessica looked at her with wide eyes. "Be honest with me. How soon is he going to lose interest in a nerd who collects journals and does math problems for fun?"

But she just shook her head. "Lose interest? Probably never. Get frustrated and think you're not interested? Hmmm. I'm not sure."

But Jessica could feel her neck growing warm. She'd been pretty forward in her email to him earlier, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. "Nobody could lose interest in Jake," she murmured, helping herself to some more carrot sticks.

"Listen," the other woman said. "This is just from Advanced Calculus to Advanced Physics, okay?"

"Okay," Jessica replied with a laugh.

"Jake could probably get any woman he wanted, but he hasn't had much exposure to anyone except hardass military officers and tag chasers. I'd say you fall somewhere in between. Just be careful, okay?"

Jessica nodded in agreement, unsure exactly what she was agreeing to. But she found she liked the idea of falling somewhere in between for Jake. In her mind, it made her more unique than she actually felt.

On Tuesday morning, she dressed in a matching set of lingerie just like she always did. But she chose a deep wine red, because it made her feel bold. And if Jake followed through with what he said, then he would be stopping by her office later today. Bold might be a necessity.

She was running her finger along the strap of her bra before tucking it into her lightweight sweater as her computer booted up. She had her coffee on her desk, but she didn't need it. She was so excited and filled with adrenaline, she felt like she might bounce around her small office. Then she gasped; there was a new email from jake.seresin waiting for her.

Dear Dr. Reed,

I'm hoping you'll have some time for me later today. I'm also thinking that one of these visits, my luck will run out. Will somebody else skateboard off with your heart? Will I have to compete with a whole line of aviators with detailed physics notes and sharpened pencils?

I won't be able to stand the heartache, so I wanted to let you know now that I'm going to ask you out tonight. I'm going to try to persuade you to join me at Chippy's for more beer and peanuts on Wednesday. I want you to have some time to think about your answer. Because if that's not something you want to do, then I'm going to need you to let me down very gently, Jessica.

See you when I report to your office hours,

Jake

P.S.- If there actually is a whole line of aviators, I wouldn't be surprised in the least.

Oh, he was so smooth. And funny. And he was giving her the whole day to decide what she wanted to do. Jessica squeaked and smiled behind her coffee cup. He must have sensed her hesitance, but he didn't seem annoyed. Rather he seemed like going to Chippy's with her again would make him really happy. Chippy's of all places. Her of all women.

With a few minutes until her schedule really started for the day, she stood and knelt in her dress pants in front of her bookshelf. There was a specific journal with a specific article that would be just perfect for what she had planned. Once she located it, she tucked it away in her top drawer, and then she went back for a few more journals that she could send home with Jake.

And as far as Chippy's went, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Last time they were there, she'd had the best time talking to him, and they hadn't even gotten into many personal topics. Of course she did run away terrified that he was trying to two time his wife or girlfriend. But this time around would be different.

She snatched up her folders and lecture notes and locked her door behind her, knowing she would have to contend with Luca and all of her other students before she would get to see Jake at all. So she buckled down and got to work. Three lectures, one lab class and one recitation later, she wandered back up to her office, absolutely starving and exhausted.

The sad salad she pulled out of her mini fridge and the thermos of lemonade would just have to do. It was already after three o'clock, and she had exams to grade. The fact that she had the worst schedule out of everyone in the physics department was not lost on her as she forced her salad down and dreamed about something homemade. It was ridiculous how jealous she was of the packed lunches that her calculus counterpart always had.

Two huge stacks of exams later, Jessica made note that she had five students who were failing their classes. Gently, she removed her glasses and let her forehead come to rest on her desk. Her office hours were about to begin, and as excited as she had been to see Jake earlier this morning, she kind of wished more of her students would visit her. It was early in the term, and they had time to turn their grades around, but still.

At 5:30 she propped her door open and waited. As long as Dr. Leeland didn't stop by today, she'd call it a win. She gave extra practice problems to Nia, and she helped Benji correct his mistakes on his lab calculations, and then she waited. After she checked the time on her computer, she turned off the monitor. It was 6:45. She'd been on campus since 8:00. She was hungry again. And she was starting to feel like an idiot.

"Reedy."

Her eyes met his pretty green ones instantly. Perched in her open doorway with his notebook in hand, he looked like everything she wanted. Jeans and a black tee replaced his uniform today, and he was just stupidly handsome.

"Jake."

He nodded toward the hallway, and she saw a sharpened pencil tucked behind his ear. "Would you like me to close the door?"

"Please," she replied softly as she stood behind her desk. When the door clicked into place, she imagined herself locking it and doing the dirtiest things in her office with Jake Seresin. These same thoughts circulated her brain as she tried to fall asleep every night now. She'd have him pushed up against the wall with her lips on his neck. Or she'd push him down onto her chair and straddle one thick thigh.

She was jarred back to reality as he made his way over to her desk with a soft smile. "I tried my hand at some of these equations," he drawled. "Can't quite figure them out. Don't seem to have the right numbers."

Then he reached up, and Jessica watched him take that pencil into his hand. "Would you like me to show you how it's done?" she asked with a smirk.

"Oh, you know I would." Hungry eyes roamed over her face as he handed the pencil over to her. His fingers felt rough when they brushed hers, and she had to fight to keep her mind focused on the math in his notebook.

"Have a seat," she told him, and she knew the fun was just about to begin.

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

Jake eased himself down into the chair opposite Jessica's desk, and he looked up at her where she stood. She had his pencil in her hand, and as she reached into her drawer to retrieve her calculator, he watched her pretty, red sweater slide a few inches down her shoulder revealing her bra strap. It was a darker shade of red. It looked beautiful against her skin.

"You're using the wrong formulas," she said with a smirk. "You can't expect the physics problems to respond to the wrong math."

"Show me how it's done, Jessica."

She bit her lip, and when she bent at the waist, Jake couldn't fathom how her students were able to pay attention in her classes. Her body was absolutely sinful looking. And when the tip of his pencil pressed against the notebook page, Jake's eyes drifted to the front of her sweater. That bra was even prettier than he imagined. His cock pulsed in his snug jeans. Lace. Just lace and her gorgeous cleavage.

He grunted and her eyes met his. Was she doing this on purpose? Did she know how good she looked to him right now? Did she have any fucking clue how crazy she was making him? No. He could tell she had no idea how much she was messing him up.

Then she wrote out the set of formulas that he would need to use before spinning the notebook around so it was facing him. "Give it a try," she said, setting her calculator and his pencil next to it.

As Jake leaned closer to her desk to take a look, Jessica walked around to the other side. She perched herself next to where he was working, his fingers just inches away from her thigh as he desperately tried to remember the difference between thrust and propulsion.

"Are you distracting me on purpose?" he asked without looking away from the notebook.

"Do you find me distracting?" she asked softly, and Jake chuckled.

"You know I do," he said before dropping the pencil and standing. He towered over her as he gingerly placed his hands on the desk, bracketing her in. "You know I do, Jessica."

His face was close to hers, but she didn't shy away at all. The devilish grin that found its way to her lips was begging to be kissed away until she was moaning his name. But he didn't move an inch.

"I thought you had something you wanted to ask me tonight," she whispered as one high heeled foot met his calf, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.

He jerked his chin up an inch. "Baby, if you won't go to Chippy's with me tomorrow, it's gonna break my heart."

As soon as her teeth pressed into her plush lip, Jake could see that grin return to her face. When he moved a fraction of an inch closer, she gasped and said, "I couldn't possibly go out with a guy who can't get his thrust equation down correctly."

Jake smirked and pushed off from the desk, leaving her and returning to his vacant seat. Then he read through the formulas she had written for him. And then he worked out his constants and entered his variables. When he punched everything into her calculator, he came up with an answer. And then he double checked it. Because the last thing he wanted Jessica to be concerned about was him knowing all about the power of thrust.

When he handed her the notebook, he eased himself further back into the seat. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then started to skim the page to check his math. But that pretty smile was still present, and soon she closed the notebook and then set it down next to her thigh.

She met his gaze and held it. "I would love to go back to Chippy's with you."

That meant his math was correct. It probably also meant that she made her mind up earlier today but just wanted to toy with him. And he could become fucking addicted to that.

"Just tell me what time, and I'll meet you there," he promised, heart thudding in anticipation of another evening spent with her.

"Seven?" she asked softly.

"It's a date."

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

Jessica stopped home between her last class and the beginning of her date at Chippy's. Every time she thought about it, she started laughing. A college dive bar was hardly the most romantic place in San Diego to grab a drink, but somehow it was exactly perfect. She ate dinner quickly and then changed out of her pantsuit.

The mirror in her walk in closet caught her attention, and she spun to inspect her body in the royal blue bra and thong. Not bad. But she wasn't sure how to dress. And she wasn't planning on letting Jake see this pretty set. Yet. They hadn't even kissed. He still didn't have her phone number. But that made her giggle as she tried on a few different pairs of jeans before settling on ones that were high waisted and hugged her body.

She chose a cute blouse and then slid on a pair of high heels before heading back to campus. As she parked near the bar, she checked her makeup one last time in the mirror on the back of the sun visor. She looked good. Better than good. Then she grabbed the journals and her purse from the front seat and headed inside.

The peanut shells that littered the floor stuck to the bottoms of her shoes, and the crowd of students was a little loud. But she liked it here anyway. When Chippy himself looked up from the bar, he smiled at her.

"Reedy," he said with a wave. "A beer?"

But she shook her head. "Not yet. I'm meeting someone. He should be here soon."

His brow scrunched up. "That same one? In the uniform?" When she nodded, he said, "Careful with those ones, Reedy."

And his words hung in the air as she found an empty high top with two stools. For the past year she'd kept to herself. Kept her nose clean. Stayed away from not only the bad guys, but really guys altogether. Was she making a mistake here?

She checked the time on her phone. 7:04. Then she skimmed the journal she brought with her which contained her very own recent publication. Then she checked her phone again. 7:17. Chippy dropped off a bowl of peanuts, and she cracked one open as her brain started to tell her that she was being stood up. Because suddenly it was after 7:30 and there was no sign of Jake.

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

Jake, what the hell, man? You're only going to get one chance here. Loving the Beer Boy and Sugar moments. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

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@thedroneranger

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@mygyn

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@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@strrywmen

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

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sanemisstalker · 9 months

Text

NSFW // KNY characters that are serial humpers. There's nothing they won't rub themselves on for just a small chance to get off.

CW: GN Reader/ Both Genitals reffered to/ specific CW will be before each character so you can peruse as you see fit.

Karaku

Object Of choice : Anything and Everything.

CW: Genital Mutilation (he gets curious, no scene), Dub-con/Non-con, Somnophilia.

-While I think all of the Clones have a bit of a problem keeping it to themselves, I think Karaku, being, you know, the pleasure clone, is most certainly a cum chaser.

-He can barely keep his hand out of his pants in public, all but physically refuses to hide his boners, and, worst of all, you can't keep underwear in one piece, on, or even around.

-This man is disgusting. The only difference between him and the others is that he's unabashed about it. You'd think the honesty would help, but it just doesn't. Not after he's torn through your last set of undergarments and now what?

-'So what? I don't wear anything- eh? What do you mean it's digusting?!'

-He's so proud about it too, it's almost disheartening.

-Is not gentle with his dick. It can just regrow, I'm sure he's done- awful things to it.

-I think that pleasure thing comes at a cost. It's a signifier of Hantengu's lack of impulse control. Karaku probably can't stop himself, even if he wants to, which he never would because lusting is his only purpose.

-Everything is made to read as innately sexual to him- doesn't matter if it's your fist or a cheese grater- He's experimental with his nerves to a self destructive degree.

-'I didn't intend to cut it off- no! I saw a photo of a man that flayed it o- Hey! It's not that bad! Just liste- It'll fix itself soon!'

-I don't know what else He'd do other than jack off, or try and convince the other clones to jack off. I don't think he has- hobbies?

-Definitely tries to hump you in your sleep. If you don't wake up to him jerking off, you're waking up to him trying to slip between your thighs.

-'I just got horny- no no- just go back t- hey, no, you're not allowed to leave? Come back! Y/N!'

Aizetsu

Object of Choice : Your thigh

CW: Severe Depression / BDSM Dynamics (Severe degradation, both self and inflicted) (Aizetsu receiving)

-What a miserable fuck, he doesn't know what to do with himself half the time, so when he gets horny he just cries and begs.

-He's a manifestation of every awful thought Hantengu ever had in that big ol' head of his. Aizetsu just drips with the most gut wrenching, vomit inducing level of self-hatred you've ever seen anytime you're intimate.

-you begin to wonder if being talked down to appeals to him more than he'd like to admit.

-He's like a dog when he asks, because, at the end of the day, he's still Hantengu, a selfish bastard who self serves. Aizetsu just doesn't have the joy receptors for it- his nerves jump at the bud for any impulse they can fufill.

-When you let him ride your thigh, because he's pathetic, and he looked so... him asking, it became his favourite thing. Ever.

-When you two are alone, he'll just beg for it out loud. He has no self respect. So much shame that he'll never conquer.

-'Please, please- Y/N- I- I'll do whatever you want me to. You're the only person I can do this with, they'll all- laugh at me- please please- I'm sorry, I know, I'm- God I'm worthless- I can't do anything in return, nothing will be good enough-'

-he's practically jerking himself off on your calve as he spews his self hate. You might as well give in.

-When you're infront of the other clones, he'll tug at the edge of whatever you're wearing. They all toss him hauty looks. They're disgusted by him, too. He likes humping your thigh more than his dignity infront of his fellow cluster, I guess.

-Maybe he's... a bit of a.... a lot of a masochist. You stare at him like he's dirt, there. He's a grown man humping your thigh- drool spilling out of his mouth.

-'I'm- I'm sorry I- oh god- please don't hate me- please don't hate me- please please-'

-'You're pathetic. You can't make me cum, but you have no problem mak- did you just cum again? Are you cumming right now? In your pants?... Are you serious?'

-You could easily have him wailing in minutes, maybe even seconds if you hit the right nerve. And the whole time he'll just be thrusting away, chasing his own pleasure against your skin because that's all he knows how to do.

-Push him off right as he's cumming and ruin his orgasm, he doesn't deserve to feel good (The abuse will just make him cum harder)

Kaigaku

Object Of Choice: You.

CW: Mention of Trad Wives

-Listen, I know we have a lot of Kaigaku haters in the crowd. I, however, see a man with a choker, and I see a potential slut. Give him his moment.

-I think Kaigaku would be a very selfish lover, obviously, but I don't think this is in natural capacity for him. I think he's like, brainwashed by societies standards of what attracts him, especially in a relationship.

-You know when you see a 'sigma' guy that's really upset his trad wife who he specifically picked out for being trad won't do anal? That's Kaigaku.

-So he's really, really upset when you won't put out.

-You see a chance, though. A chance for a life lesson.

-Kaigaku is allowed to fuck you... just not really fuck you. He's allowed to use your hand. He's allowed to use your thighs. He can rut in between your pussy lips/ up and down your shaft-

-He is not allowed in you. And it lights him up.

-'Thats a stupid rule! You think I'm not enough? Are you fucking someone else? Are you making fun of me?!' He'd probably try to insight a screaming match for a week, but you just won't give in-

-Fine. Whatever. He just won't touch you, won't talk to you- won't-

-The first time Kaigaku slides in between your thighs, he swears he sees stars. It'd been weeks... probably the longest he's ever held off on an impulse. Hadn't jerked off either, He'd been too pissed.

-Its there, in that little space between your sex and the top of your thighs, that Kaigaku finds God. At least he thinks it's god. It's got to be. He's never cum so hard in his life.

-Kaigaku becomes almost... willingly obedient. He continues to pretend he's so inconvenienced by the whole thing, but then he's sliding into your fist, and the world is just sliding away.

-I have a very specific image of standing infront of him, and him trying to angle his dick to slide in your underwear. He's really awkward, and he's struggling to stay upright because he's got to bend his knees to meet your cunt/cock- and it's just not working, but that's the only way you'd let him get off on you that day-

-It like, kind of gives me the ick thinking about him doing it, but also like- Aw? He'll literally do anything to get off now? You broke him?

-'I can't- it- it's too hard-' He'd mumble, voice sounding particularly defeated. 'I just- I want to cum-'

-'Too bad.' You'd go to walk away, and He'd jerk off on the floor, pissed as hell. He wouldn't be able to cum and that'd just make him angrier, because now he has to go beg his partner, who he's whipped for, to please let him use their pussy/dick again-

-He's like, never been this needy before, though. He's not supposed to want to chase you. He's supposed to have people throwing themselves at him- It's kind of... exciting, to be denied.

-You know, guys that whimper are really cool, but idk, I think Kaigaku's a whiner. I think he whines and groans and it's really unsightly but??? There's something so appealing about it? Like, he's so big and strong and his ego is so inflated, and he's just toppling for you?

Enmu

Object of Choice : Your pillow

CW: Enmu / Crossing of explicit sexual boundaries.

-Listen, he's not right in the head. Enmu never claimed to be right in the head, either, but he's particularly fond of cumming on your pillow. Not just humping it, cumming on it. He doesn't really know why either.

-'It just feels right, I think.' He'd reason.

-'Do you want to- cum in my hair? On my face-'

'No, I want to cum on your pillow. It's where you sleep.' Thats the only explanation you get from him. He cannot articulate anymore.

-He doesn't even think about it when he's doing it. He's just got one leg hiked up on the bed, a thumb pressing the head of his cock into the plush, and he's just thrusting- almost blind.

-He doesn't ever remember the build up to getting there, or what in his brain is satisfied by doing this, but if he doesn't do it, something... off will happen, he's sure.

-You catch him, one day. You thought he was just cumming on it- no, he's got his full weight in his pelvis, pitching his hips forward with all his might. You didn't even know Enmu could physically do such a thing.

-He's not weak, obviously. He's a demon, but you all rarely have sex where he's the one leading, so it's a bit of a shock to watch him be so... rough with the fabric.

-He's almost in a trance, it's kind of scary, until he cums, and he covers his mouth with both hands, and his hole body shakes. The fucker knows he has to keep this silent...

-Maybe you're...Maybe you're not right in the head either, because you really, really want to be that pillow.

This might have a part 2, because i think Mitsuri would be prone to this.

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suashii · 7 months

Text

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸

info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending

note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !

the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.

because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.

the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.

regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.

you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence.

“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.

you believe him.

your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”

“got me there,” you softly admit.

geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”

the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.

“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”

with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.

you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.

“okay, let’s talk.”

the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.

it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.

you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”

he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”

you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”

“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”

the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now–how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.

it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.

you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.

“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.

you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?

“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”

geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”

“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”

there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again.

the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?

tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.

you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.

“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.

one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”

the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?

you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.

“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”

geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.

his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”

beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.

you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”

there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.

“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”

you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.

you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”

geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”

“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”

“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.

hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #jjk x you #geto drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

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sunflowersandforgetmenots · 1 month

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So glad to see you popping up on my dash!! I’ve got a req from the soulmates post!

#15 No harm done - soulmates are not able to hurt each other physically

This with Sevika? What if there’s a big fight and it’s down to the two of you and maybe you’re already pretty badly injured so she comes stalking over to finish the job and take you out but then she CANT 😫😭💕 OR!! Silco has you hostage and wants her to interrogate you? She’d wind up for a smack or something and just be stopped mid air. Either way, I’d love to see her face journey upon realizing who you are to her bc I imagine she’d be the type that’s convinced she’ll never find/doesn’t have a soulmate and now she has to accept that she is capable and deserving of love >:}

Also in the specific scenarios I can’t remember the number and I’m on mobile but the constant danger one would be so cute with Soma! Or really any of the ladies tbh they’re always into some shit lol I just always want more Soma in my life 💘

I'll write the Soma one later if I get the inspo in my brain for it! But here it is! Sevika for 15! It's a little angsty but also my first time writing for her!!!!

Summary: Telling Silco no is a bad idea, especially when he sends Sevika, his right hand, after you. Though... maybe it's not so bad if she can't actually hurt you?

Pairing: Sevika x Reader

Genre: Soulmate, Not Smut

Potential TW: Violence, some stalking, mentions of killing read

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The fear that struck your heart was not a new one, especially down here in Zaun. Fear was rampant in this place, no one was free from it. The lowest feared as prey, rabbits to be tracked and shot down by hunters. The highest weren’t exempt from it either, though the fear they felt was one born of greed. Of coins and power slipping through their fingers.

It wasn’t like you intended to get on Silco’s bad side. You weren’t someone of power to be feared by others, you weren’t even really a threat to him. But you told him no.

No, you wouldn’t serve his men. No, you wouldn’t distribute shimmer through Zaun. No, you wouldn’t back down. You liked Vander. You liked that he cared for his people without trying to beat others down. So what that he worked with Piltover? If it kept people safe, if it kept the upper side’s nose out of your business, so what. He was a father, a guardian. Silco was a monster.

And you had told his right hand that, right to her face. Her rather handsome face, once found in Vander’s men, now stinking up the door to your establishment. It twists up in anger, in rage.

“What?” She had said, a simple, low voiced threat that had part of you thrumming with a disgusting streak of desire.

“I said, no, Sevika. I’m not a pusher of some fucked up drug. I’m a fucking florist struggling to get through life down here. I can’t risk that.”

“Silco doesn’t take no for an answer, (Y/N).” She said. “Just because you’re ‘not the type’ doesn’t make you exempt from his requests.”

“He’s not a king. He’s not my boss.” You had responded, slamming the door shut in her face. She stayed there for a few moments, and you had feared for a few long moments that she was going to take that mechanical arm and punch through the door, taking your throat with it.

Instead, she quietly left, taking her men laughing with her.

You had thought that that was that. Silco and his men left you alone for a time, and instead, your flowers flourished. It was frustrating. There was an improvement with the shimmer, a double edged sword that you were sure would come crashing down on Zaun any moment.

Then, Sevika started appearing standing on the other side of the street of your shop. Staring, waiting. Never making a move, never moving closer. It scared you, enough to make you change your routine, but like clockwork, she would adjust within a day. A predator, waiting for her chance to clamp her teeth around the throat of her prey.

So you decided to run. Pack your things and run. You could beg on the streets of Piltover. Hell, maybe you could even leave. Crossing Silco was one thing, but Sevika being the one to take you out? She was going to make it hurt. She was going to make sure that you weren’t found ever again. And you can’t risk it.

Which is how you found yourself in this situation, sitting in some abandoned closet in some abandoned home, clutching a knife close to your chest as you hear Sevika rip through your belongings.

You weren’t going to make it out of this alive, that knowledge settling deep in your bones. But you can give it a fighting chance, maybe she might make it quick, knowing you weren’t going to be a coward and die weakly. That’s the one thing you can do in Zaun: die strong.

Even so, a part of you mourned. You never figured out who they were, your soulmate, the one you were destined to love, waiting these long years in the darkness of Piltover. Waited for so long, only to be snuffed out by a mere puppet of a monsterous man who ruled your home. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife as your killer approaches the closet.

“Come out, (Y/N).” She says, voice low in that threatening way that made your stomach turn. “You know that you can’t fight me. Not with whatever little weapon you have. Silco just wants to talk.”

“We both know that the talk is going to end up with me dead.” You say. You wish that you could respond with the confidence you had when you got yourself into this mess, all pride and strength. Instead, you just put your foot on the door, offering resistance for whenever she decided to rip it off the hinges.

“Maybe if you stopped trying both of our patiences,” Sevika growls, punching the door for a threatening emphasis. “you wouldn’t be worried about that. You can either die now, or die if he gives the order.”

“I’m not gonna wait for that, and you know it.”

She sighs, a deep, tired sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And the door comes right off its hinges, though your booted foot did nothing to give you time. The wood slings across to the other side of the room, and you start slashing wildly, missing each time before she knocks the dinky knife out of your hand with one flick. A scream escapes your lips, hoping beyond hope someone would take pity on your in your last moments, even if that someone was Sevika. You’re lifted up by your shirt collar and dragged out of the closet, kicking and sobbing for someone to save you.

Your feet dangle, and without thinking, you wrap your hands around her organic wrist for some kind of subconsious reassurance. The feeling of her skin against your fingers shocks you. She’s human, just like you. but she’s fixing to kill you. She’s killed before. She’s watched the life drain out of so many people and you were no exception.

Your touch does nothing to her, seemingly. No flinch, no hesitation. Instead, she pulls back her mechanical fist and pulls it back. You close your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks as you brace for the end.

But the end doesn’t come. And it doesn’t come for a few minutes actually. So you crack open an eye, looking at her with relief. She must have changed her mind. The look on Sevika’s face however, was one of horror. Her fist was still raised, and you see the muscle of her shoulder straining. Then, you’re gently lowered to the ground, her hand still loosely curled into the fabric of your shirt.

“Ch… Change of mind?” You ask, still terrified out of your wits end.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Kill me?”

“Hurt you.” She says. The words seem to slip out of her mouth, like she wanted to stop them before they were spoken. “I can’t hurt you, (Y/N).”

It takes a moment. At first, you think she’s simply taking pity on you, or maybe she respects you too much after your attempts to prevent your own death. Then it sinks in. Sevika tried to hurt you, but physically, she couldn’t. Which meant…

“I’m your soulmate. We’re… We’re soulmates.”

Speaking it out loud only seems to upset her further. She shifts, turning her face away and letting her right hand drop from your person. Though she doesn’t move, she doesn’t speak. She just looks… uncomfortable.

As you stand there, basking in the strange feeling that your soulmate just tried to kill you, that your soulmate was Sevika, you come to realize something about Sevika. You thought her a killer, someone ready to switch sides at any given moment but… now, as she stands there awkward as a teenager, you remember that she might have had expectations about this too. Hopes about soulmates, dreams about them. Was she disappointed? Was she ashamed?

“What are you going to do?” Is all you’re able to ask, all you can manage to get out.

She regards you out of the corner of her eye before she runs a hand over her face. “... Let you go. But you need to get out of Zaun. Never come back here.” She says.

“What? But you’re my… you want me to leave after we just found out???”

“Obviously!” She snaps. “Silco wants you dead, I can’t afford to fail, but…” She moves as though she’s going to pace, but then stops, like she can’t bring herself to move from you. There’s a pause before she rests a hand on your shoulder. “I never thought I would have one… would have you. You’re a weakness, that insecurity was a weakness. That desire was. It still is. So you’re going to leave Zaun, hell, maybe the whole city. I can’t have you haunting my steps.”

“So I’m a bother to you??” You ask, incredulous at the fact that she’s trying to get you to leave. Angry at the fact that you finally have what you’ve always wanted and now she’s pushing you away despite the fact that maybe now she can protect you.

“You’re a weakness. And a pain in my ass.” Sevika says. “I’m not… I’m not doing this. Just leave.”

And before you can say anything, she pulls you into a kiss, hard, fast, and passionate. Better than any you’ve had before. And you mourn this bittersweet moment, because you know deep down that she’s right.

Her loyalty is to Zaun, and if anything comes before that…

She’d have helped kill Vander for nothing, because she would do the same things he did to make sure you were safe.

#sevika x reader #sevika #my writing #arcane x reader #soulmate trope

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starlightshadowsworld · 1 month

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The Wary Weretiger

"You know, I think therapy might be more effective than this." Said Atsushi. He didn't need to turn around to know Akutugawa was rolling his eyes.

"Shut up."

Atsushi raised his hand, catching the orange. "Huh, you even peeled it this time. Must be serious."

He wasn't exactly sure how they got here. Akutagawa had been hunting him down for his bounty.... And than one day just stopped. Somewhere along the lines this had become their routine.

Akutugawa ranted at him, Atsushi sat and ate whatever fruit he'd pick up on the way. Sometimes he'd voice his own opinion and Akutugawa would begrudgingly listen.

It was werid.

But not unwelcome.

It definitely beat having his leg cut off, that's for sure.

"Go on, out with it. I'm busy today." Akutugawa scoffed "and what could you be possibly busy with." Atsushi shrugged "well I still need to get a job."

It didn't matter how much he saved from what he stole from the Orphanage, it wouldn't last him much longer.

"I thought the Agency offered you a position." Said Akutugawa, carefully. As kind as Atsushi was he fought like a caged beast. He could and would ditch Akutugawa if the other offended him.

And Akutugawa didn't want to admit he liked his company.

Atsushi took a bite out of an orange slice "only because of my ability. They're nice people, but I'll find a job myself. Besides that would you my enemy and I am not dealing with that."

His leg would grow back but it was painful. And being on Akutugawa's not bad side was a nice place to be.

Not that Atsushi would admit it.

Akutagawa nodded, he could respect wanting to keep your pride even when you were at rock bottom. But even soo... "Is it so bad for them to want you for your ability?"

Atsushi paused.

"My whole life people have only wanted my ability. They've tried to rip it out of me because they felt entitled to it.... Do you really think I'd want to join an organisation that values it so highly?"

There was an edge to his tone, but also sadness. Akutugawa's eyes went wide in shock.

He unconsciously tugged his coat closer. He wouldn't know what to do if Rashomon was stolen from him.

Akutugawa felt vulnerable just taking a bath, he couldn't imagine how Atsushi felt feeling his ability get ripped out of his skin. It was fortunate that it clearly failed.

It certainly explained Atsushi's distrust of both light and dark.

"I suppose not." Said Akutugawa, going quiet in thought. He went back to his initial question.

"I was once in a situation like yours. I lived in the slums, it was there Dazai found me and I joined the Port Mafia. That became my purpose, and I'm lost without it. But you... You don't have that, and yet you seem satisfied."

Atsushi hummed, thoughtful. "I'm gonna say something, but right or wrong you're not allowed to stab me again."

Akutagawa scoffed.

"I stabbed you one time, stop acting like it was such a big deal.... But very well, I won't stab you."

Atsushi turned to face Akutugawa, putting his orange slices back into a tupperware box. "That isn't your purpose."

Akutagawa is taken aback. He wants to argue but something in him stops him. The way Atsushi spoke to him now was different to how he usually does.

He sounded like Dazai.

Dazai in the quiet moments, the rare moments when Akutugawa hadn't failed him. The all seeing look in his eye as he read Akutugawa like an open book.

"You had a purpose, one you cherished like a second soul. But you lost it. You tried to convince yourself whatever you consider your purpose now is it, but it isn't. And it never will be."

And yet when Atsushi spoke it was kind. It wasn't intended to tear Akutugawa down, quite the opposite. And Akutugawa found himself unable to look away.

"... How do you know this?"

Atsushi smiled, it was small and sad and it didn't fit him like his usual grin did. "You wouldn't be trying so hard to find your purpose if you truly believed you found it."

He looked away, giving Akutugawa some privacy in his own thoughts. "Ask yourself, who were you before the Port Mafia? Who were you back when you were like me? There's you're answer."

Akutagawa frowned, deep in thought. He'd been... He'd been weaker and pitiful. A small child who killed whoever went in his way, but killing hadn't changed in his life.

He was the Port Mafia's Rabid dog, he was still a killer so that wasn't it.

What had he been killing for? In the Port Mafia it was because those were his orders. Because the weak needed to be destroyed to make way for the strong.

Back in the slums it had been for survival. Akutugawa would've died many times over if he'd let those idiots survive. And Gin wouldn't have survived of he hadn't protected her from them.

Akutagawa froze.

... That's what it was. He had been a protector, his reason for killing down in the slums was to protect Gin and his friends.

His friends who were killed on the night Dazai found him... The night Akutugawa lost his purpose and tried to gain another.

But failed.

"I can't get it back." Whispered Akutugawa, suprised that he choked up at the thought. He hadn't thought of them in years.

"You can" Said Atsushi, looking at him again. "The circumstances may have changed, but the core premise is the same. You just have to open yourself up to that."

Open himself up? So Akutugawa had to find something else to protect? That... Didn't seem so hard, given the Port Mafia protected the city from the shadows. And Gin was still with him.

Had it really been infront of him, all this time?

"That's the difference between us" said Atsushi, quietly but Akutugawa caught it. "You had a purpose only to lose it. While I have never had one."

Atsushi chuckled and it was sad again and Akutugawa hated it. He preferred when Atsushi was genuinely happy. When his smile reached his eyes, his eyes that were kind and shined with light.

Now they looked so empty, so sad.

"You think I'm satisfied but I'm not. I have no dreams, no aspirations, my worth is tied entirely to my ability. I live to spite all those that want me dead, to stop them from taking the tiger if I pass on. I have no purpose, not really."

Akutugawa didn't know what to say, all he could do was nod in goodbye when Atsushi left.

He reached down, picking up the half of orange Atsushi saved for him. That he always saved for him, no matter how hard times got.

"You're wrong" he said to the wind as he walked away. "You're so much more than you're ability."

#When you're Atsushi AU has an akutagawa essay in it #The Wary Weretiger #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #Bsd sskk #But they haven't realised it yet

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cenorii · 2 months

Text

And here we are again… RE9 theory

It's time for another theory! I'll be writing these right up until the release of RE9, so apologies if you're tired of speculation. I had a theory about this Wesker concept once before, but it came out too vague + I tied the concept to RE4R, but it never made it into the game. So here's a new theory that has captured my brain.

What if, this concept never belonged to re4r? What if it showed up in early development of re9? Let me explain.

Imagine that Wesker is alive in re9. You can imagine the importance of keeping such a news secret, because it is quite a shocking information for fans. If this is the main intrigue in re9, the game would lose it if information about Wesker leaked to the public. If you were the designers and developers, you wouldn't let such news get out of the organization any way. So, put yourself in the shoes of a Capcom employee? Let's move on.

Suddenly such an important detail is leaked by Wesker's voice actor and your intrigue risks becoming public, the game will lose half of its interest without keeping Wesker a secret. You, as a developer\designer need to solve something, somehow fix the situation so that no one will know about the return of this character in the new game.

Then you make a GENIAL decision, setting your sights on re4r, which is in the middle of development. You decide to add this Wesker design to re4r to ward off all suspicion and get out of the disadvantage. Well done, you succeeded in fooling the fandom, now everyone is convinced that this concept was originally made for re4r.

It would seem that everything is fine, no one will know the truth until the re9 release happens, but… Wesker's concept never showed up in re4r. That image is not inside the game or in the concept book. We, the players, are left to assume that this concept was trivially not intended for re4r.

To confirm this theory, I'll ask you to pay attention to a few details - the face (1), the hair (2) and the hand (3). 1. The face, to be honest, could be anything on these concepts, because they are made sometimes before the studio finds the right actor to give the appearance to the character. But I'm left wondering if his face here is taken from re5 and yet looks much older. If this was for re4r, wouldn't Wesker look younger? 2. His hairstyle deviates a lot from the usual style that every game has. Capcom couldn't change Wesker's hairstyle for the REMAKE of the game, because it's an important part of it. Changing his hairstyle is tantamount to removing his sunglasses. But that kind of hair is acceptable for a new game. I assume this is how his new style was planned for the future in which he is alive (?). If you've ever seen the "early" versions of re4r, you probably know that in them Wesker has that exact weird hairstyle, which Leon also has in the "hero" skin. I believe that when Capcom added the "hero" hairstyle to Wesker, they were trying to make him look even more like the concept to minimize information leaks among the staff.

3. In none of the games did Wesker suffer an arm injury. In Code Veronica, his hand was set on fire, but the wound is not serious and Wesker is able to heal his wounds in SECONDS. It doesn't make sense to emphasize his wound for a Code Veronica concept. It also doesn't make sense to do a wound for re4r, because in the original Wesker never left his chair at all, and in the remake he didn't get into any serious fights. This wound is something new that hasn't happened yet, but one day will. In all the games, Wesker heals any injuries quickly, but at the end of re5 he took too much damage, so he probably lost some of his strength, causing him to keep his wounds for a long time.

That's the kind of thoughts that visit me when I see this image but don't see it inside re4r. If it's a "discarded" concept, it too should appear officially, like Ada's concept for re8 that was never added to the game.

Thanks for reading, really looking forward to re9 to see how far I was from the truth. (Help me. I'm going crazy.)

#resident evil #rebhfun #ada wong #albert wesker #resident evil theory #resident evil 9 #resident evil 4

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rambunctioustoons · 1 month

Text

The celestial bot thrumming so intently, convinced anymore strain he'd pop a metal joint. Eyes fixated down to the shaking movements of his palms.

Today had been a terrible day, but nothing out of the ordinary. Fussy kids eating up the time needed for the other kids. Sun stretched out further than his fingertips could reach and wrangle the troublemakers out of harm's way in time. All it takes is one booming shrill of a voice advocating for chaos for all hell to break loose.

Every attempt to heed the storm and aid him met with a snappy strained pleasantry. He's got this, he's made for this! You've only got one fleshy squishy body, don't push it now. Some kid puts a little too much strain on his wrist joint, that's just show biz! And these crazy kids demand an encore!

Every attempt so far in the early evening air to talk to him met with a question about your well being. A comment about that funny thing you were both there to witness but not actually all that funny! How many minutes he had left before Moon would take the reins, and did you really really wanna spend the next half hour talking about how he feels? Silly, feeble, kind friend. He's just fine.

But he's not. Sure if there had been a way to see Moon flickering in those bright vacant eyes, you'd be giving each other the look.

No more chores left to do, none that he'd let you do anyway. Too high strung. Things snatched from your hands as he forcibly twists fate on the limits of his abilities. Trembling himself apart.

Little you could do to evade the inevitable parts & service visit if he kept pushing like this, so you've hatched a plan.

“Laundry-”

“Done and done! Done twice!”

“Folded sheets-”

“Pristine and crisply folded. Would you really need to check that?”

“Books-”

“All put away and alphabetical like they should be!”

You grin. “... Fairy lights?”

“Put away insideee theee closeet-....” Words dragged out in a dwindling song-songy tune, his faceplate whipping around to face you. “-why are you asking that? They're out of season, Friend.”

“I'll put ‘em to good use then!” You chirp, hands placed on your hips. “Closet?”

Sun squints skeptically. “Yes. Closet.” Eyes fixated on you, suspiciously. You ignore this, of course. Waltzing your way over to the Daycare storage closet. Gathering up the supplies in your arms. Awkwardly leaning down in the naptime nook as you pass by, nabbing a book at random. Using your foot to toss a few throw pillows atop of the pile.

Sun squints at you. “Whateeeever it is you think you're doing, just know, it won't. Work!”

“I’m taking a reading break, don't care what you do. ” You chime. An offended gasp piping up behind you. You duck into one of the corners on the ground level of the play structure. Tying the flat sheet to the gridded bars inside the small space. Weaving the corded battery powered lights inside, flicking them on. Flickering flimsy bulbs of light, shimmering a yellow hue on the play structure bars still visible. It wasn't perfect, but. Cozy enough to hopefully lure a creature right into the trap.

All you had to do was wait. Plopping yourself down in the makeshift blanket fort. Carefully cracking open the book, nesting the hardcover against your thighs. Not actually reading the words of course. Too focused on the shuffling outside the play place, jiggly footsteps alluding playing a game of who cracks first, and you intend to win.

Every fiber of your being trying not to beam with a grin, when Sun eventually ducks his head into the space, craned down to observe the hurried fruits of labour.

“There's still a lot to do, y’know.” He says. Tone wobbly, uncertain.

“I know,” You say, turning the page. “And there's even more to do tomorrow.”

“Sooooo,” He drags on, one hand gripping the caged siding. “We should keep going.”

“Sure.” You hum. “Five minutes.”

A disgruntled sound reverberates from your friend. Shoot. He's on to you. All or nothing now. You cheekily pat the remaining space on your legs. Worth a try, but not at all expecting him to take you up on it. A gesture of sincerity of course, glancing up at him. Pulling you into his lap aplenty times in moments of distress, or sorrow. Or to impishly move you aside because whatever you had been doing, was taking much too long.

Difficult as always to follow his eye line. Making a guess his gaze is fixated on your torso. Hands folding to his chest, restlessly squeezing his intertwined palms. Faceplate trained slightly down, you recognize this. A conversation you're not part of, and very little business pondering on. Turning back to the book, rolling your shoulders.

Sun, careful and hesitantly steps into the space with you. Kneeling down in front of you, paying him little mind. He's exhausted sure, but one wrong jeering word from your mouth and he'll scamper right back out away from you. Quiet whirring and rhythmic tapping atop of one bell. Words a blurry haze along the page to read at all, terribly distracted by the striped pants lingering above the peripheral. Sure if he made any sudden movements, you'd equally skitter out of the play structure too.

Sun reaches hesitantly for the book. Index and thumb pinching the pages on either side of the hardcover book. You let him, smiling up at him gently. He never really indulged in much book reading, much more of a collaborative storyteller. Eagerly adopting any silly, outlandish detail a guest would pipe up with during play time.

Pulled from your musing as he closes the book, setting it aside.

Careful movements as he closes the space between the two of you. Contorting himself down with much less graceful ease than you'd ever seen, and flops right in your lap. Faceplate pressed flat against your tummy, gangly arms quick to encircle your torso. Slumping his weight down as he lets out a shaky faux breath. Full heartedly admitting defeat, solidified as he speaks up.

“Today was bad.” Words lightly muffled, for effect of course. His speaker box didn't reside in the mouth rested against you.

“It was.” You affirm gently. Resting your arms along the backs of his shoulders, met with a small twitch underneath you. His arms squeezing you tighter after a good few moments.

“How much longer?” He inquires hesitantly, tilting his head up to see you.

“Lost count.” You tease softly.

His rays twirl once, in place of an eye roll. Plopping his face to rest back against you once more.

“Five more minutes then.”

“Five more it is.”

#sun x y/n #sun x reader #daycare attendant fnaf #daycare attendant sun #sun fnaf #moon like. briefly mentioned lmao #fluff #idk if its tooth rotting but it is to ME #writings #drabble

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pastel-peach-writes · 11 months

Note

Caitvi with a cocky yet easily flustered s/o?!!

wow, am i the s/o? how did you get this photo of me? COMING RIGHT UP ANON! also, i feel like this would be easier with headcanons so, i hope you don't mind!

Wipe The Smirk Off Your Face | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of Caitlyn and Vi with a cocky, yet easily flustered s/o. mostly how Caitlyn and Vi react to the cockiness and what they do to fluster their partner even more.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Lower Case Intended, Headcanons, SFW, Reader's A Bit Full Of Themselves But CaitVi Loves It, Not Proofread

– Caitlyn and Vi can be cocky themselves. It's more Vi than Caitlyn, Caitlyn likes to believe she's confident, not cocky. Vi will tell you straight up she's cocky.

– anyways. the girls know how you get.

– you tease them about something they've done or you claim that you're the best at what you do. sometimes, it's just your personality too. it's an ego thing, but it's more like you're trying to convince yourself than others.

– an example of this is when you reported to Caitlyn for the first time after being recruited for a journalist job. you put the article on her desk, 5 hours before it was due which was an accomplishment for you, and grinned.

"read it and weep, captain." caitlyn rose a brow at your choice of words but took hold of the file. she scanned through the article and nodded. "i know, it's good right?" you sigh happily. proud, you put your hands on your waist. "i say it's one of my best works and i preformatted it for the journal so the editor doesn't even have to worry about it." impressed, caitlyn stands from her desk. she takes off her top hat as she walks to you. "i have to admit, recruit, this is your best work. i thought your portfolio had all your best work, but i was clearly mistaken. good job." she leans back on her desk and crosses her feet at the ankle. as she stares into your eyes, you cheeks warm up. you can only pray there was no change in your appearance. you clear your throat, nodding at her. "yes, uh- thank you. i appreciate it." in a swift move, you leave her office. caitlyn's perplexed at your sudden change in attitude, but she brushed it off. she continued to read your file.

– since you two weren't together during that, caitlyn didn't think anything of it. maybe you were overwhelmed by your boss complimenting you. unluckily for you, it didn't go that smoothly with Vi.

jumping off from a mild ledge, you dust your hands off with a proud smile. "i told you that you needed my help. without me, you would've never seen that guy sneak that eggbeater into his pockets." a soft chuckle escaped from vi's lips. "yeah, I'll admit it. i didn't see that guy but i don't understand the threat behind an eggbeater. that's the kind of shit stuffy bakers use." you shrug. you hold up the eggbeater. the beater is well-kept and freshly polished and the golden material shines in the dim light. "this gold is worth a pretty penny. i should know. i handle golden material all the time." you grin up at vi. she chuckles again. "oh, what would i do without that beautiful, knowledgeable, brain of yours, huh?" she nudges your shoulder with a confident smirk. again, you stammer over your words. you fidget with the eggbeater before you look away. vi tilts her head, her smirk growing from confident to cocky; a known slippery slope. with her hands crossed over her chest, vi matches her eye line with yours. "I'm sorry, what was that? did you say something?" her words are like oxygen to a flame. the squirms and shudders travel up and through your spine. flutters erupt in your stomach and your heartbeat fastens. you say nothing in return. your silence is music to vi's ears. she grabs your chin and turns your face to her. her grin is shit-eating, her touch is warm, and her feelings are calloused. "you know," her voice is low, her words smooth. "you shouldn't talk a big talk when you can't handle someone agreeing with you. someone might take advantage of it." she winks.

– after the three of you got together, vi wouldn't call flustering you taking advantage of you. she would call it, "giving her partner affection"

– picture this, it's an early morning and vi is absolutely dreading getting ready. caitlyn has already scolded her about the consequences of being late for work, but vi gets scolded often so she tuned caitlyn out.

– you're already up, morning person or not, and getting ready for the day. you claim it's easy for you to get ready because you're absolutely perfect and the world can't revolve without you.

– from the sheets, vi turns her head. her face is half-smushed into the pillow. she tells you that you're right. you are perfect but you're wrong about one thing. there's no world to revolve around you because you are the world. her world.

– from the bathroom connected to the room, caitlyn groans. unfortunately for you, the corny line works, and your cheeks warm up. vi teases you again, taking your silence as another answer.

– sometimes, when your cockiness reaches an all-time high, caitlyn and vi share glances, nod, and then boom, you get a compliment attack.

– if you identify as a girl, they'll agree with you using gendered nicknames such as: "you're so right, pretty girl." "i agree. you're the most amazing girl in the world." "that's my girl."

– if you don't identify as a girl, they compliment you in other ways. "i knew you could do it. you're perfect." "that's right, baby. you are the best." "oh, really? you knew that? you're so smart."

– and lastly, if compliments aren't your thing, they'll fluster you in different ways.

– caitlyn likes to drag her nails up and down your back while placing kisses right underneath your earlobe. why are you squirming? you said you were the best of the best, right? she's giving the best of the best celebratory kisses. what's wrong with that?

– meanwhile, vi is more "subtle" when she's trying to fluster you. okay, maybe not exactly subtle, but it's vi-subtle. she knows she can be direct and flirtatious to get you flustered too, but she loves watching you muster up the courage to reply back to her.

– when you say something cocky, she'll lean on any surface she can and raise a brow. she'll always reply with a simple, "oh, yeah?" then, she'll lean down or reach up to your height. if you're taller, hands are on your waist. if you're shorter, she puts her hands on the side of your neck. either way, she scans your eyes with a smirk.

– that move alone sends you spiraling and you want to melt out of her grip. as most of her flirts do, she ends it with a wink and then walks away.

– don't get me started on the nsfw parts of this... but I'll leave that to y'alls imagination. bye~

WC: 1,096

A/N: IM STILL TAKING REQUESTS FOR CAITVI. ALSO, IF YOU SPECIFY IF YOU WANT A ONESHOT OR HEADCANONS, THAT'LL HELP A LOT! THANK YA <3

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meownotgood · 2 years

Text

a little death / hayakawa aki

You meant everything to him, and Aki promised to keep you safe, even if it meant dying for you.

fic playlist: click here!

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 20.6k

tags: 18+, smut, angst, smoking, love confessing, that one trope where they step in front to protect you, tending to wounds, hand job, finger sucking, tender sex, aki is touch-starved and needy as hell

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Human life is expendable. In this world, it always has been. If someone dies, they'll simply be replaced, such is the perpetual ill-fated existence of a devil hunter.

In a way, it's like the cigarettes Aki smokes. Sometimes they burn halfway, sometimes they burn down to ash, but when you're done, you just smoke another. They do well to remind him of the fragility of life in more ways than one. He inhales, and even though he knows it's slowly killing him, when the rich taste of smoke fills his lungs, all he can feel is heaven. Yeah, she was right. Life is so much better when you have something to take the edge off.

Aki pulled the cigarette from his lips, tapping it with his finger over the ashtray and watching the dying embers scatter. The smoke from his exhale rose into an oddly calm, cloudless blue sky. As it left his lungs, Aki could almost feel his stresses melt into the tranquility of the cool breeze. Almost. He was only escaping from his work for a short time, because once this cigarette was spent, it was begrudgingly back into the fray.

Why was it always on the nicest of days that Aki had to be stuck working? Actually, that's a stupid question, considering he works pretty much every day. But shame on him for wanting to patrol peacefully with you and enjoy the nice weather for once.

Whatever, the devil this time was supposed to be weak anyways. Only you and him were dispatched to the scene, and you were told it was okay to take your time, so this must be something the both of you could handle quite easily. Soon, the sun would set, but maybe if you both managed to get this job done quickly, he'd be able to enjoy what was left of the day.

"Shit, Aki, I can't find mine. Can I have one of yours?"

"Nope, it's my last one. Sorry." Aki replied, taking another long drag from the cigarette.

"Dammit, I left my jacket at home 'cause it was supposed to be hot today. They must still be in my pocket."

The sun was beaming down, blistering heat radiating off the concrete sidewalk, but while standing in a large shadow cast by the looming buildings, a soft breeze dancing through the air cut through the tepidity. It brushed against Aki's arms bared by rolled up sleeves, tickling the side of his face and the hair on the back of his neck. This corner of the city was calm and quiet today, with the only sound being the rhythmic hum from cars on the nearby street whizzing by.

"Hey, Aki, let me have a hit of that one."

Aki shook his head. "No way."

"Oh come on, I'll be quick. There's no way I'm getting through this mission without some nicotine in my system."

Aki took the thin cigarette from his mouth once more, holding it carefully between his fingers, puffs of smoke wisping up from the firefly light on the end. He turned his head, finally meeting your pleading gaze. You cocked your head at him and he hesitated, if only for a moment, before sighing in defeat. He brought the cigarette to your lips until they closed around it.

"Inhale."

You followed the command, breathing in as he held the half-burned cig steady. The moment the smoke hit your lungs, it instantly flooded your senses with pure bliss.

It wasn't very hard to convince Aki when it came to you, never has been. But there's something about sharing his cigarette with you, something about watching you take a hit between his fingers, eyes locked onto his. Something about it enthralled him every time. So if you asked, he was sure to let you have a taste, and this time was no different.

He pulled away when you took in a sufficient breath, bringing the cig back to his own lips. You tilted your head upwards, catching glimpses of pale blue obscured by a tangled web of power lines before the smoke was blown out steadily from your mouth.

Funny, at one point, you told Aki you'd never smoke. Yet now, here you were. Somehow, "Ew, I'd never," turned into, "Fine, I'll try it," turned into, "What brand do you get again? I'm just curious," turned into now, all right before his eyes, and all because of him. It filled him with a little sense of pride.

If you were going to be a devil hunter beside him, experiencing the same loss and turmoil as he has his entire life for the rest of yours, he supposed you deserved something to indulge in. Or at least, that's what someone else taught him a long time ago. When you first became his partner, whether it was a nostalgic force of habit or an urge to put you through the same rite of passage he himself once underwent, Aki made it his goal to convince you to smoke.

With how adamantly against it you were at first, he almost gave up. But after countless missions together, months spent growing closer and further trusting one another, something seemed to crack. He managed to convince you to try it, and in no time at all, he had turned you into just as much of a hopeless addict as he was. It was a satisfying feeling at first, but now, that feeling wasn't enjoyed without a sharp pang of guilt.

Aki's life was expendable. If he died, what impact would he leave on the world? He had no loved ones, no family, no-one he cared about, besides you. And the very day after he breathed his last, you'd find that he'd be replaced, just as simply as everyone he himself has come to lose. You'd forget about him and move on with your new partner. A stick of tobacco was certainly not going to be his final nail in the coffin, but it doesn't really matter either way, does it?

Your life though, your life was different. Your life was precious. It was filled with time he didn't have, filled with hope he didn't have. In himself, he saw nothing, but in you, he saw love. To him, you were love. You were the embodiment of everything that made life worth living, everything beautiful. A star-filled night spent drinking the sweetest liquor, or finally getting home and taking off your shoes. The world beat him and broke him down, but in your soul, he found solace.

But hey, that's something he would never admit. Not out loud, anyways.

Regardless, you were someone he found worth protecting, and that's exactly what Aki vowed he would do, and that's exactly why he changed his mind. If he could go back, he would have never given you a cigarette. Hell, he would have quit smoking if that's what it took to get you to never try one. Your life was precious, and he should have never taught you to shorten it.

Ugh, he was thinking too much. What he should do is shake these thoughts from his head and start focusing on the mission.

Aki took a final drag in before stamping the cigarette bud out into the ashtray. "Alright," He spoke through a mouthful of smoke, "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You pushed yourself off of the wall you had been leaning on, stretching before you stood up straight. "You okay Aki? You've been spacing out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." Aki replied nonchalantly. You walked closer to him, hands reaching to grab his tie, and you pulled on the fabric, adjusting it straight around his collar.

"Remember," Aki starts, "If things go bad, you stand behind me, understand?"

"Don't worry, we've got this." You stated, looking up at him, "And after we're done, we can go out for some celebration drinks."

When your gaze met his, Aki felt his worries fade away, like snow melting to a warm flame. He smiled softly, something only you could seem to make him do, he thinks. Drinks together after a stressful day sounded great. All he had to do was get through this mission, and then he could relax. And with the two of you, it would be easy, right?

Aki nodded, "Right. Let's go."

—

Devil Extermination request for the Public Safety Commission. Devil sighting inside block #9's parking garage. According to the request, the devil fled to the 3rd floor. It is described as a rather weak Spike Devil. All civilians have been evacuated safely from the area. Dispatching two devil hunters from Public Safety Devil Extermination Special Division 4.

It was never supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be an easy job. It was supposed to be to go in, locate the devil in the building, and eliminate it. Get things done like you both always do and get out, simple as that. So how did you end up getting cornered like this?

From the minute you saw the state of disarray the parking garage was in, you knew "rather weak" was a complete lie. You've been a devil hunter long enough to know this much damage couldn't be caused by a mere low-rate devil. Cars were toppled everywhere. Some appeared to be flung with incredible force, and some were covered in holes where something had pierced straight through the metal. A chill was sent up your spine when you began to wonder what that something could be. This devil was definitely much stronger than it may have appeared.

Likewise, you've been fighting alongside Aki long enough to know when he gets quiet like this, gritting his teeth roughly, sweat coating his furrowed brows, it's usually a bad sign. The only time he goes silent is when he knows things are about to go to shit.

With no words exchanged, you made your way to the third floor alongside Aki. Neither of you were sure what to expect, but you both were saying silent prayers in your minds as you climbed the stairs. Prayers that this devil really was weak, and prayers that today wouldn't be either of your last. Once you were face to face with the titular Spike Devil though, your assumptions were dreadfully proven.

First of all, it was no small-fry, boasting a rather large body of contorted limbs and mismatched appendages. It was a disgusting freak of nature, like every devil you've come across. What was most interesting were the equally sizeable spines that covered the entirety of its body.

The devil appeared to be able to shoot them out and recall them back to its body at will, so not only did it have great range and offense, but when recalled, the spikes also provided an excellent layer of defense. They weren't porcupine levels of spines either. The size was comparable to railroad spikes, and they were heavy enough that it took a wide swing of your sword to deflect them, leaving your arms aching.

Second of all, thanks to all of those limbs helping to propel it, the damn thing was blisteringly fast and incredibly relentless. Its movements were a blur you could hardly even make out. All you could manage to do was block, block, block, never having the opportunity to get a hit in.

Despite the growing severity of the situation, you were able to control your breathing and maintain some of your cool. You were both going to get out of this alive, you always do, don't you? After all, you had your full trust placed in Aki, and he had his full trust placed in you. You stood back to back, pressed close to one another, covering for each other's blind spots to deflect the devil's attacks.

Aki has always been more agile than you, so at this point, you were relying on him to land a blow while you focused on simply keeping yourself from being impaled. Unfortunately, try as he might, he was just as unsuccessful as you. At least he was able to take a few swings at it, which was more than you were able to accomplish, but they proved to be fruitless when the devil dodged them easily.

With every movement of your sword, it seemed to become heavier and heavier in your hands. In your chest, you could feel every single pound of your heart. It was hard to breathe, almost like the air was being forced into your lungs. You were slowing down, threatened to succumb to your exhaustion.

Aki could sense it. Where you started to lag, he only moved faster, swinging his blade wider, harder. He blocked where you failed to, and before you knew it, the fight was in a league all its own and you truly weren't a part of it anymore. Aki deflected every hit on his own while slowly backing away with you behind him, taking every opportunity, each break in the devil's attacks to put space in between the two of you and itself.

Eventually, you both were able to back up far enough that the devil's attacks subsided a little, although not completely. Instead of sending out as many continual attacks as it could, the devil instead honed in on concentrated strikes. It was trying to eliminate one of you, and it clearly didn't care which, with one strong blow. Aki deflected the first hit, but not without briefly staggering under the weight of the impact.

"Go. Run away."

Your attention was pulled away from the fight when Aki suddenly spoke, his voice breathless yet resolute. It was the first thing he'd said in a frighteningly long amount of time. His command hung in the air, his eyes remaining locked on the devil as he deflected another attack.

Do something, fucking do something, you screamed at yourself, but you were rooted in place and couldn't think, couldn't move. Everything was a blur, moving in fast motion while you were stuck in the past. All you were able to do was uselessly stand at Aki's side, your eyes darting between him and the devil as he blocked strikes with the flat length of his sword, loud clangs of metal against metal echoing throughout the garage.

Aki abruptly turned to you, grabbing your shoulder, and his iron grip paired with his sharp gaze meeting yours was enough to briefly shake you from your trance. He raised his voice, shouting, "Did you not hear me?!"

"I… I heard you, but I…" You stammered frantically, trying to come up with the words, trying to come up with anything at all. Right now, you're aware that you're only a liability, just someone he has to protect. But you didn't want to leave him. You couldn't. You were hoping somehow, someway, you'd find a way to assist. If you searched your brain hard enough, you'd have to come up with something.

Aki's face seemed to soften the slightest amount when he spoke again, staring into your eyes with an expression ever pleading. "I can handle this, you're only going to get hurt if you stay so please, please just-"

You should do something. Anything. Something to help him, something more useful, something better than just standing there.

No, you should run. You should listen to him. You should take the chance he's made for you and get out. So why weren't you? Why were you numb, unable to move?

Wait, when did he start standing so close in front of you? And when did the noise of clanging metal cease?

And why was Aki not moving?

The air was filled with a suffocating silence, save for a faint plip, plap sound of droplets splattering on concrete and the twofold echo of weary gasps for breath. You were terrified to look, shaky vision remaining fixated on the devil, but when a spike stained crimson was recalled to its body and the sound grew from a light dribble to a loud splatter, your eyes darted downwards.

Blood. Aki's blood.

Aki's sword slipped from his loose grasp, falling to the ground with a clatter amongst the spots of red painting the floor below. His legs buckled, and as he swayed forward, you reached out and caught him by his waist.

"Aki, oh my God, I'm so sorry, Aki please-"

Everything was scrambled, surreal, and you were fumbling over your words, shaking, struggling to hold up his weight and not even sure what was going through your mind anymore.

Aki wrapped his arm around your shoulders, still wobbling but regaining a little bit of his balance. He opened his mouth to speak, but as soon as he tried, he sputtered into a cough, spitting up spots of blood into his hand.

His mind was a dizzying blur, coherent thoughts swirling, drowned out by a razor-edged pain that kept hammering away at his senses. He's losing blood. He can feel it warm and wet against his side. Even though his adrenaline is pumping right now, he can't have much consciousness left before he's done.

Make the best call, otherwise we're both dying here.

The devil seemed to be taunting you now, taking its time to lick the blood off the spike clean. But Aki was the only one who noticed this. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Despite how much it made your heart sink to see his face contorted in such pain, his lips parted as he took in ragged breaths, your gaze remained locked on. You focused only on watching the heave of his chest, right above where his white dress shirt is stained a vivid red, because you were terrified of the thought that if you looked away, when you looked back, it wouldn't rise and fall anymore.

At least the devil seemed to have finally let its guard down. The damn thing probably thought it had already won. The two of you had lured it all the way to the edge of the parking garage. Orange rays from the setting sun cast large shadows upon the devil's figure.

Now was the only chance Aki had to finish it, and he needed to do so quick, before the monster started paying attention again.

"Aki, please, come on, we need to get out of here-"

Make the best call, make the best call, make the best call…

Was this close enough? Was it too dangerous to summon it here? What if the entire building toppled?

No, stop hesitating or you'll die, idiot. He had to do it, and he had to do it right now.

Aki brought a heavy, trembling hand up, middle and ring fingers pressed faint to the pad of his thumb. Through blurry vision growing dim, he aligned the circle between his fingers with the shadowy silhouette of the devil.

Before he even spoke, he could feel the blood bubbling up in his aching throat, but he forced himself to push past it. He choked out the one word he needed so quietly he might as well have been mouthing it.

"Kon."

The fox's head burst through the nearest wall like it was nothing, its might obscuring the glow of the setting sun, and in one fell swoop, the Spike Devil was gone, swallowed in the Fox Devil's jaws whole. Aki used a final burst of energy to hurriedly twist until he was in front of you. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you close, his tall frame leant over yours to shield you from the flying debris.

It's over.

The devil was taken down, Aki kept you safe, and once this realization hit him, the ache in his chest seemed to increase exponentially. It was a piercing, hot, all-encompassing pain, like nothing he could even describe, and nothing like anything he's ever felt before in his life. His ears were ringing, and every breath he took in was starting to become shorter and shorter without his control.

There's so many things he wants to tell you. He wants to say it's alright, we did it. Don't worry about me because everything is going to be okay. But words wouldn't form anymore, let alone comprehensible thoughts. He was at the end of his rope now, wasn't he?

It hurts, it's fading away, everything is fading. I don't want to die, God, please don't let me die.

"Aki, hang in there, look at me, please."

But your face was a blur, a mere swirl of colors growing hazy, almost as if he was being swallowed into the darkness of a long, pitch-black tunnel.

Don't give in just yet, don't give in, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts…

"Focus on me, please don't close your eyes…"

But your voice was growing fainter, muddier, as if Aki was plunged underwater, the depths threatening to claim him, and his eyelids were starting to feel so, so heavy.

I'm going to die.

The realization should have been terrifying. Instead, he felt release, like finally letting go when your hands had been burning from holding on for far too long. The end should have hit him much harder than it did. Instead, he found it soothing, like a river's rippling waters finally settling into a still, tranquil pool.

"Aki…"

It's okay, please don't cry. I didn't have that much time left, anyways.

It was never supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be an easy job, and now the person you cared for the most was dying in your arms.

"Can you hear me? Aki?"

At this point, if you were saying anything, he couldn't tell what it was anymore. He could feel himself slipping, losing the fight, and before he knew it, he was speaking before he was thinking. Soft words tumbled from his aching throat at barely more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

And then, he was done.

Aki's head fell to rest on your shoulder. His body went limp against yours, motionless and heavy. You could feel the ever so subtle tickle of his shallow breaths against your neck.

He was barely breathing, but at least he wasn't dead yet.

—

It's happening again. He's there, but at the same time, he is watching himself, a mere observer to the snowglobe that is the microcosm of his life. Inside the dome is a familiar house, surrounded by dead trees with branches clothed in white. Through frosted glass, he can see it; he can see himself, tiny and meager, while as innocent and pure as the pale white snow. But all he can do is watch.

All he can do is watch as the scene plays out just as he knew it would, just as he's seen in his dreams countless times before. Someone shakes the globe, and all at once, his home is torn into the sky, blown away with the same disorder present in a gorgeous flurry of snowflakes and glitter.

It's strange. Seeing it now, so small, so far away, a swirl of mesmerizing crystalline, it almost seems beautiful. But as he watches, he can taste the bile rising in his throat, he is weighed down by the sinking of his heart, and in that moment, he's filled with the same sense of dread he felt that day. The feeling of being lost at sea with nothing but miles and miles of blue in sight. Nowhere to run to, no-one to reach out and help you, left treading water until you drown in the deep.

Aki feels cold, down to his bones. Is it because of the snow? Or is it coming from within?

The scene fades, and a new one opens on what he remembers to be the first time he wielded a sword. He watches a much younger, inexperienced version of himself through the shiny reflection on the blade. His fragile hands grip the hilt tight and he swings with a reckless naiveté. God, he was so young to be fighting, and even though he tried to hide it, Aki knew him better than anyone, and he knew the boy he saw in the mirror was terrified.

He became a spectator to his first devil kill. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he was overwhelmed with the satisfaction of finally doing something useful. From then on, he killed more, more. He didn't stop, not even for a second.

His sword was plunged into devil after devil, but the madness didn't end for him once they were dead. He cut their bodies open and searched through every last revolting inch of their insides until he found what he was looking for. When he was done, his palms were stained red, down to the crevices. He remembers feeling as though it would never wash out of his pores. With his blade coated in blood, Aki could no longer see through the steel, and so the scene faded anew.

When the picture took shape once more, Aki was standing on a lonely street. Through a wide set of windows, he could see himself inside, eating dinner with his late partner. Or perhaps it was lunch, he can't remember. The inside of the restaurant appeared to be empty apart from his table, and although he could see himself clearly, the one sitting in the chair across from him was blurred. He knew exactly who it was, and yet, her face was obscured and just wasn't quite right.

"Aki, wanna job hop to the civilian side with me?"

Even though he was watching from outside, he could hear the conversation clear as day, like it was coming from inside his brain.

"We don't have to hunt that damn gun, y'know?"

Aki didn't look up, although now, he wished he did, because if he had, maybe he would have remembered her face more.

"I'll go drinking with you as much as you want," He replied firmly, "But I will never go to the civilian sector."

If he could go back now, would he have changed his answer?

Right now, he isn't sure, but in this world where he's only an onlooker, it doesn't really matter. He is on the outside looking in, left staring at his double and the hazy vision of Himeno, the window pane seeming fogged up around her form as she lights a familiar cigarette.

Why was Aki seeing all of these things? Is this what they call your life flashing before your eyes?

He stood idly, watching the film continue to play out, although he already knew how it was going to end. For a second time, Himeno died right in front of him, and for a second time, he was utterly powerless to stop it. He was a prisoner to a story already told, and even though the rest of the memory was fuzzy, he could remember everything about her as he watched her slowly disappear.

That memory was always the clearest. His own brain is so cruel.

Aki couldn't bear to see much more of this. He turned and started walking, then running, leaving the stage behind him.

Perhaps it was because he hoped to enter a memory more pleasant, or perhaps it was because your face was the last thing he saw, your voice the last thing he heard, and so you were still lingering in the labyrinth of his mind. Whatever it was, Aki began to reflect on recollections of you.

The first time he gave you a cigarette. He demonstrated how to smoke it before passing it off to you. When you coughed and sputtered, it was almost endearing, like watching a younger version of himself. You didn't give up though, and when he watched you, he couldn't help but smile. That day, he smiled for what was the first time in a long time.

The first mission you completed together. He didn't think it was anything to write home about, but you were so excited, and some of that cheerfulness couldn't help but be rubbed off on him. You praised him for how strong he was, rambled about how much you wished you could be a devil hunter as strong as him. Never become like me, was what he wanted to say, but instead, he offered to train with you, show you some of what he knows. You graciously accepted, and after that, training sessions together became a regular occurance. That was only the start of Aki spending time with you outside of work.

The first time he took you to his family's grave. He told you it wouldn't be anything fun, but you insisted on coming. He's still not sure why you did.

It was chilly that day. You both left early in the morning. You slept on his shoulder on the train ride there. Then, on the boat, it was freezing, so while you looked out at the water, he took off his jacket and draped it over the two of you like a blanket with his shoulder pressed against yours. Lastly was the bus, and even though it was totally empty, for some reason, he stood close to you. Close enough that every bump in the road caused him to lean into you. Close enough that his fingers kept accidentally brushing against yours.

Another thing he's not sure of is why you decided to grab his hand then. It could be because you were getting tired of all those accidents, or maybe it was because you figured it was awfully close anyways, so you might as well. It wouldn't be a far extension of what was already occurring.

Or possibly, it was because you could see right through him. You could tell deep down, he was troubled with the reminders of all of this, of everything he lost that day. So when you took his hand, it was to give him something to hold on to. A small form of comfort. He likes to think the reason was the latter.

"Your hands are cold." You commented.

"Yours are warm."

The trip was always a long one, but with you, it seemed to go by in an instant. You prayed alongside him, and something about you being there made it easier, made him feel less alone.

In his eyes, in every memory, your face was clear. He could see every detail of it, but he swore it was more beautiful than he remembered.

The first time you came over to his house, he showed you around, and when you were hungry, he peeled and cut an apple for you. He remembers the way your face lit up when you saw the bunny-shaped slices, the way you smiled at him as you ate. You watched movies together, talked about stupid shit and gossiped about co-workers while forgetting about the world. For just one night, everything was normal. Aki remembers wishing he could freeze time right at that moment.

The first time you went out drinking together, you both probably shared more secrets than necessary, but Aki can hardly recall what was said. What he does remember is taking you home when you got too drunk, your whole body leaning on him, your infectious laugh when you wobbled, and the way you relied on him to keep you safe without question. It made him feel important, made him feel like he was needed by someone.

It's the dullest of moments that Aki remembers the clearest, he notes. They also happen to be the ones he loves the most, because when every devil might be what drives you to the brink of insanity, a little bit of something simple goes a long way.

Aki relives a conversation he had with you on his balcony, over a shared cigarette and under the dull light of the crescent moon. He recalls something you asked him that night.

"If you could go back and change your past, would you?"

You posed it as a pretty casual question, teasing him when he simply replied he doesn't know.

Ask him any other time, and Aki would have said yes, absolutely. There were so many things he'd like to change about his life. So many people he'd want to save, and when he really thinks about it, all of this started with that stupid house and that damn gun. Against the impossible odds, he'd find a way to prevent it, find a way to save his family. Find a way to fix his life.

Now though? He's come to feel a bit differently, not just about that question, but about his life as a whole. No matter how much you wish it could, the past can't be changed. The only thing you can do is learn to live with it. Accomplish your goals and treasure what you have left until it's gone. And if you do, you might just find something that makes all the suffering worth it in the end. Someone who makes you look forward, instead of looking back all the time.

The only thing he regrets is ever giving you a damn cigarette.

This world has always hated him from the start. Was showing him all of this the universe's way of trying to get him to finally give up?

To hell with that. Aki still had a job to do, and for once in his life, he had someone out there waiting for him. Someone who would cry if he died, and he can't let that happen. He needed to get out of here.

"Aki, where are we going?"

With no warning, he found himself on a busy street, and he heard your voice clearly through the suffocating crowd.

"We have to patrol the south side," Came his response, although it wasn't coming from his own mouth. Aki turned to where he heard it, and standing out from the group as if a spotlight was shown upon them was the striking image of himself walking with you close on his heels.

"Try to keep up," His duplicate continued, "I won't have time to babysit you."

"You must have pretty low expectations of me, sir."

"I have low expectations of everyone, especially softies like yourself."

Aki felt his hands ball up into fists. Man, was he always such an asshole?

"And why's that?"

"Because everyone in Public Safety ends up either-"

Aki charged forward, closing the distance between himself and you. Before he let himself say another word, he reached out and grabbed your hand. Your palm was warm, and he could feel it when you gripped back, the touch distinct and real. For a moment, his heart skipped and he hesitated, a gravity almost drawing him away, but he held on tight and let it pull him with you in tow.

He moved as quickly as he could manage, shouldering past those in the way, and when the sea of people seemed to part, he started running.

"Aki, wait!" Your voice cried out from behind him, and you were slowing down, stumbling, struggling to keep up. "Where the hell are we going?"

His vision was growing muddled, and he wasn't sure where he even was anymore. His surroundings were a confusing, vague blur, in an uncanny kind of way.

"We're getting out of here," He replied, and the next thing he said poured from his mouth thoughtlessly, "I'm not ready to die."

"You're not dead, Aki."

Aki froze in place. "I'm not?" He murmured, although to be honest, he knew a long time ago that he wasn't. He knew from the moment he first saw your face, and from the second he felt your touch so strongly when he grabbed your hand. He could feel this was only a dream that he was on the edge of waking up from.

And as if on cue, a loud boom pierced right through the languor, and the calm haze of a quiet dream was severed in favor of a heart-pounding awakening.

—

I'm not dead yet.

Aki awoke suddenly, the fog blanketing his mind rapidly fading to a clear consciousness. The first thing he heard was the crack of thunder, and once his eyes fluttered open, the second thing was the rolling thrum thereafter. He fought against the grogginess still lingering in his mind and the heavy weight of his eyelids begging to close, attempting to take in the area around him. The room was dim, covered in a veil of grey, and the gentle patter of rain could be heard outside.

He sat there for a moment, pondering the loose threads from his dream still lingering in his memory. As his senses returned, he felt something in his open hand, holding it carefully, but firm. Your touch blended so well with his dream that it took him a bit before he noticed. Fabric rustled as he turned to look at you, your head rested on the edge of the bed. You had pulled up a chair next to him, and although he couldn't tell since you were facing away, he guessed you were sleeping.

Aki felt his body relax and his heartbeat slow once he saw you, and for a minute he was settled there, simply enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. It was warm. So warm.

He could tell from his surroundings that he must be in the hospital. How long had he been asleep? Or, more importantly, how long had you been waiting for him to wake up? Hopefully he didn't worry you for too long, he thought, and as he attempted to recall how he got himself into this in the first place, the memory of the day prior began to return.

That's right, you and him were dispatched on an extermination mission for the Spike Devil, and that's where he became injured. He remembered fighting alongside you, stepping in front of you, and taking a spike right through his stomach. Aki could feel his middle wrapped in something snug, and to confirm it true, he snaked his free hand up his hospital gown. Sure enough, when his fingers met his side, he felt the smooth cotton of a bandage cloth.

The next thing he recalled was the pain. How sharp and hot it was, and then the feeling of almost dying that followed. It felt oddly calm, like slipping into a peaceful slumber, but now, the mental image it conjured utterly terrified him.

He summoned the Fox Devil, didn't he? Yeah, he definitely did. He can't forget to feed it later.

You weren't hurt, were you? No, if you were here now, you must have gotten out safely. Aki remembered your panicked voice as you begged for him to stay awake. The look on your face that shot a bullet through his heart when he realized you were crying. He remembered being held in your arms, slowly slipping away, whispering his last words…

Oh, fuck. They were supposed to be his last words, anyways, but considering he was alive and well right now, they certainly didn't turn out to be. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

In the moment, his mind was in shambles, and all he was concerned with was making sure something left his mouth so you could hear his voice one last time. He wanted those words to be meaningful and good, but he didn't have much time nor energy left to decide on them. The grim prospect of death was staring him right in the eyes, and he could tell from the dwindling sand within the hourglass that he didn't have much time left. He dug a hole for his own grave, and as he did, he unearthed feelings he had long since buried in the dirt. In the moment, all he could think of was not allowing those feelings to be forever buried alongside him.

Aki could feel his heart constrict in his chest. I love you. I love you. I love you. Each resoundment was like a punch to the gut, echoing throughout his head, spoken in his own voice. Out of all the things he could have said, why did he have to go with that? Maybe it would have been endearing if he had actually ended up six feet under, but in this instance, all he did was force his feelings onto you.

He shouldn't have said it. The time and place couldn't have been any more horrible. You shouldn't feel pressured to accept his confession just because he almost died, so Aki decided the first thing he's going to do when you wake up is take it all back. He'll tell you he didn't mean any of it, even if that was an outright lie.

Speaking frankly, Aki didn't know much about love, but somewhere down the line, he became pretty sure he was in love with you. He could feel it clearly in the way his heart came alive every time he was around you, and in the way your presence alone brought him so much peace. You treated his life as anything but expendable, and you cared about him in a way almost no-one else ever has. There was something about you that captivated him and made him grow him very, very attached, until before he realized what was happening, you became the most precious thing in his life.

Nevertheless, for so many reasons, he swallowed those feelings and kept them concealed. You were his partner firstly, his friend secondly, and he couldn't allow something stupid like this to get in the way of either of your jobs. Besides, if you grew closer to each other, it would only lead to more hurt when one of you inevitably departed. Aki had to keep you at a certain distance. For his own sake and yours, you two could never be more than friends.

But when you find yourself on the brink of death, something about you changes. You start thinking of all those things you've tried to keep hidden and you're met with a choice: speak now, or die beside them.

Oh, whatever. What's done is done, so it's not worth agonizing over now, is it?

Searching for something to distract himself, Aki finally decided to push himself up, doing so slowly as to not wake you. The second he rose, he immediately felt the strain of fatigue on his body, like a hook held by a taut line threatening to drag him backwards. The slightest bit of movement also triggered a steady throb in his side. He brushed strands of long hair from his face, rubbed some of the stress from his temple, and forced himself to stay up.

A dull flash of lightning brought his attention to the window beside him. Gentle droplets tapped against the glass, then steadily cascaded down, obscuring the view with blurry streaks of water. Dark, puffy clouds hung low in the sky and blotted out the light from the sun. The slosh of water could be heard when cars in the streets below passed by, headlights casting streaks of yellow that travelled across the room.

For a while, Aki watched the rain, the soft rhythm beginning to settle his thoughts. He could still feel your hand in his, and he faintly closed his fingers around it, holding it in a tender grip. The drizzle outside bounced off of the sidewalk and soaked into the soil. Where it had the chance, it collected into puddles that reflected the city's colorful glow. It could have been his imagination, but he swore the storm was only picking up.

"Aki?"

A voice calling his name stirred him, but before he could fully turn towards it, before he could even form a word in response, you had already flung forward and wrapped your arms around him. Aki's breath hitched in his throat. For a few seconds, he stalled, before he hesitantly returned the embrace, shaky arms clutching around your back. Loosely at first, but tight when he gave in.

You held him close, close enough that how glad you were to see he was okay was conveyed through your touch alone, and without a single word spoken, he understood. You could feel his heart beating through his chest and the fabric of his clothes was balled up tight in your hands.

His heartbeat. In the grand scheme of things, it was inconsequential, but hearing it now made it sound like the world's most perfect melody.

Although his lips trembled like there was something he wished to say, Aki was rendered speechless until you pulled apart. You held his shoulders, the look on his face one of relief. When he met your gaze, he got lost in your eyes, and when he spoke to end the silence, his voice was low. To hear it after so long made it sound especially comforting.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since this afternoon," You replied, "They've been letting me off work early 'cause I can't patrol without a buddy."

Aki looked away, his face tensed in thought, and you spoke again, figuring you knew what was on his mind. "You've been asleep for three days now."

Three days? He should be grateful he wasn't out for longer, but three days was still far too long to have left you worrying about him. He was so stupid, so sloppy, such an idiot. How could he let something like this happen?

Aki sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?"

"Fuck, for everything," He answered, his voice fragile, like it was glass about to break into a million little pieces. "For failing you, for making you worry about me, for what I-"

The hospital room's door opening with a creak caused Aki to trail off, his attention and yours shifted to a nurse standing in the hallway.

The nurse stated simply, "Visiting hours were over a long time ago."

Your hesitation made Aki almost think you were going to protest, but instead, you responded, "Okay, I'm leaving in a minute."

When the nurse left, you pulled Aki into another curt hug. You were about to tell him not to apologize because there was nothing to apologize for, but when he rested his head on your shoulder, you heard him say quietly into your ear, "You should leave now anyways, the rain is picking up."

As much as you didn't want to, you cut the hug short and decided to leave the conversation there, since it seemed like what Aki wanted you to do. You began shuffling around the room to find your belongings. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but I wanted to talk to you for longer."

"I know. Me too."

"I'll come back tomorrow as soon as I'm off work." You said, pulling your arms through the sleeves of your jacket.

Aki shook his head, "That's not necessary."

"You don't want me to?"

Of course he wanted you to. If he was truly listening to his heart, he would have begged for you to stay and never fucking leave his side again. But he has to listen to his head.

"No, just… Don't worry about me, okay? I'll call you when I get out, we can talk more when I'm feeling better."

"Alright. Do you need anything before I go?"

"I could use a cigarette, but I doubt they'll let me smoke in here, so..." Aki pondered with a shrug of his shoulders, but without a care for what he just said, you rooted around in your jacket pocket, tossing a lighter and then a half-full pack of cigarettes at him. He saw them out of the corner of his eye and spun to catch them with ease.

You were about to leave the room, but as you grabbed the door handle, you stopped to say one more comment, "Hey, make sure you get some rest, alright?"

"Didn't I tell you not to worry about me?"

In response, you only chuckled.

Aki spoke between the cigarette already placed between his teeth, "Be safe."

"I will, see you later. Call me."

Aki waved, and after catching one last glimpse of him, you left and closed the door behind you.

—

Aki never called you.

After almost a week of not hearing from him, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You went to the hospital first, only to find his room empty upon opening the door. You flagged down a nurse, who informed you he left a few days ago. Against the wishes of his doctor, might they add. Yeah, sounds just like him.

So next, you tried to call his phone, but of course, it rang infinitely without an answer. When that plan failed, you didn't waste any time trying to leave voicemails. You got in your car and drove right to his apartment.

Considering what the nurse told you, it wasn't hard to believe he was ignoring you because he was trying to get some rest, but considering what you knew about Aki, the real reason was probably because he didn't want you to fuss over him. It was either that or he was too embarrassed to talk to you.

You parked in front of his apartment and then made your way to the door. The sun hung low in the sky, casting orange ribbons of light upon everything it touched. A sharp chill was settled in the air, leaving goosebumps on your arms in its wake. You raised your knuckle and knocked.

No answer.

You rung the doorbell, hearing the muffled chime resound from inside.

No answer, again.

The lights weren't on, but his car was parked in the lot, so he definitely was here. Was he okay? Something didn't happen to him, did it? You're starting to get a little nervous.

You were about to try knocking at the door again, but to your surprise, it unlocked with a click. You hurriedly moved your hand away, and when it swung open, you couldn't hold back a sigh in relief.

Aki leant on the doorframe, his hair down and an utter mess. He was wearing comfortable clothing, what you assumed to be his pajamas, and a weary look was present in his eyes. Maybe he actually was resting after all. He eyed you up and down before asking in a flat tone, "What are you doing here? Do you need something?"

You scoffed, "You said you would call me and you didn't, idiot."

"Oh, sorry." Aki replied, his attitude standoffish, and he averted his eyes, looking down at the floor.

Could he be any less subtle about this? At least you were here now, so he couldn't avoid you for any longer.

"Can you let me in? It's cold out here." You said, crossing your arms.

Aki appeared to be unsure, but regardless, he opened the door further and moved aside, allowing you to walk in before he closed it behind you. The second you entered, a heavy warmth settled over your body like a cocoon. The familiar smell of his apartment and the distinct musk of his cigarettes filled your lungs. The scent was comforting, albeit a little suffocating, but it smelled exactly like him, and that's what you loved about it. His living room was lit solely by the rays of light shining through the balcony's sliding glass door.

He wobbled past you, and before he sunk down on the couch, you noticed how he was clutching his side. "There's beer in the fridge if you want one," He said, grabbing a can from the coffee table in front of him.

You rolled your eyes, but decided to take him up on that offer, walking over to the kitchen. "Isn't it bad to drink while you're recovering?"

Aki brought the can to his lips, head tilted back as he took a drink. After a swallow, he simply stated, "It helps take the edge off."

After rummaging around in the fridge, you grabbed a beer can of your own, cracking it open with a satisfying hiss. The bitter taste of alcohol pricked at your throat when you took a sip, and as you made your way to the living room, you looked at Aki again. He didn't look to be in much pain, but he was still holding his stomach like something was sore there. His expression was plagued by exhaustion and his hair was in total disarray. He probably hadn't even brushed it since he got home. Most curiously, his arm was wrapped in bandages stained a dark red from dried blood.

"Aki, are you alright?" You asked, plopping next to him, the couch sinking under your weight.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You snapped back after his curt response, pointing to his arm as he brought the beer can to his mouth again, "How'd you get that? Have you been changing your bandages at all?"

"I fed the Fox Devil flesh from my arm in exchange for using its power."

"You didn't answer my second question."

Aki looked away, unresponsive. There was your answer, you supposed. You took another swig of your beer before setting it on the table and pushing yourself up.

"Where are you going?" Aki asked, peering up at you.

"Bathroom."

This was far from the first time you'd hung out at Aki's place, so you knew exactly where the bathroom was. You dug through all the cabinets and drawers until you found everything you were looking for: a roll of bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a washcloth, and his hairbrush.

When you returned, Aki immediately saw everything you were holding and a slight look of annoyance formed on his face. "You don't have to-"

"Come on, let me help you." You interrupted, setting everything down on the table besides the brush, which you held in your hand. "Face forward, I'm gonna brush your hair first."

Aki gave a few more flustered comments, but you ignored them. You stood behind him and grabbed his chin when he tried to twist around, tilting his head back until it was forwards. Realizing there was no sense in fighting you, Aki sighed rather dramatically and reluctantly kept still, allowing you to run the hair brush through his tangles.

You were gentle, as much as you possibly could be, anyways. Aki tried his hardest to keep still. It was impossible for you to tell from this angle, but if you could see his flushed face, you would know he was totally embarrassed. Not embarrassed enough to stop you though, of course. It's fine if you wanted to brush his hair, because he definitely wasn't enjoying this and his heart definitely wasn't pounding right now.

"Hey, Aki, I have something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yeah, what is it?"

Oh, were you finally going to ask him about his last words? It's okay, he already prepared what he was going to say, so it'd be fine. It'd be awkward, but he'll get over it, you'll get over it, and everything will go back to normal.

"On our last mission, why did you step in front of me?"

Why did he… do what? For a second, Aki was taken aback. This isn't what he expected you to say, not at all, in fact. Was this really all you were wondering about?

At first, he isn't sure why. In the heat of the moment, the only thing in control was his reflexes, and when he protected you, he did so without a conscious thought. But the more he thought about it, the more the answer became obvious to him.

Aki is used to losing partners. It's nothing new, and even though he tells himself he's not going to get attached, he always does. When they die, reduced to nothing but ash, their souls burn on in his memory, haunting him until he drowns in salty tears and the thick smoke of another cigarette. They're replaced with hardly any time given to mourn, and the cycle repeats itself. The world discards them, but he never will.

The thing is, you're not just another partner to him. You're not just someone who can be easily replaced. You meant so much to him, more than you would ever really know. If you died, you'd be taking a piece of him with you, and the void left behind is one he would never be able to fill again. Not with anyone else. Not with the cigarettes or the alcohol or the rush from fighting devils. Nothing else would compare.

Aki is tired of this, and he realized he was a long time ago. He's sick of the world giving him something he thinks he can cherish, but no matter how tight he holds on, it always ends up slipping away, right between his grasp. He can't do this anymore. He can't sit back and be complacent, allowing the cycle to repeat itself over and over again until everything he finds beautiful is wilted, all right before his eyes. He can't sit back and let this shitty world win.

He doesn't care about all the pain he's in now. The temporary sting from this injury doesn't compare to how much it hurts to lose someone he cares about, a wound that aches everlasting. And he knows he could have died, he knows the feeling of death to an uncomfortable degree. But if keeping you safe means giving up his life for yours, he'd do it in a heartbeat, and he did.

Hah, finally, he understands her now. He finally gets all those letters he read that day, why she wanted him to quit so badly, why she kept him alive. This was what she must have been feeling back then, wasn't it? And when he protected you, must he have been feeling the same emotions she was?

"Aki, did you hear me?"

"I did it because I didn't want to see you hurt."

You stopped for a moment, before exhaling a long sigh. "I don't want to see you hurt either, you know. You could have died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, just next time, let's both be more careful. I don't want you dying on me any time soon."

Aki didn't say anything back, half expecting you to ask him something else, but the discussion stagnated.

I don't want you dying on me any time soon. How could one little sentence carry so much weight? He'll try, God, he'll try. He'll do anything and everything in his power to stay with you for as long as he can.

By this point, you finished brushing out his hair, and it was soft to the touch when you ran your fingers through to make sure you didn't miss any knots. One thing's for sure, it looked a hell of a lot better than when you started.

"All done," You said while moving to stand in front of him, setting the brush down on the table, "I'm going to do your bandages now, take off your shirt."

"Huh?"

"I said I'm going to do your bandages now. I'll do the wound on your side first since that's gonna be the harder one."

"No, no," Aki shook his head, reaching for the bandages, "I'll do it."

You promptly put your hand on his and pushed it away. "No, you won't. Aki, please. Let me help you."

Although his mouth opened like he was about to argue, he ultimately kept it shut, the pleading tone in your voice convincing him. He sunk back on the couch and his gaze avoided yours as he reached down, grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head, the faintest blush dusted on his cheeks when he tossed it aside.

It's the first time you've seen Aki without a shirt, and under it, he's a lot more fit than you expected him to be. His body is lean, but with defined muscle. Especially in his biceps, which you would assume is from wielding a sword. Bruises kissed his skin and scars decorated every last inch. You could imagine each one telling a different story: some of sorrow, some of triumph, but all a reminder that through everything, he lived. Just below his ribs, stained bandages were wrapped tightly.

"Uhm, how should I…" You stood in front of him, leaning down, attempting to figure out the best way to go about this. After feeling around, you located the end of the bandage, pulling on it and beginning to unwrap it from around his body. You could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest and hear the sound of his breathing: soft, and a little shaky. The angle was awkward and quickly caused an ache in your back, so to alleviate it, you rested your knee on his legs.

When the last of the bandage was unwrapped, you finally got a good look at his wound, and the only thing you could think was this would definitely leave his biggest scar yet. The cut was sealed by stitches and travelled up the length of his abdomen, dried blood coated around it.

You took the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the table, then the washcloth, pouring a small amount onto the surface. When you turned back to him, you decided the easiest way to continue would be to climb into his lap.

Aki couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks anymore, nor could he stifle the way his breath hitched when he felt your weight settle on top of him. You were so close, way too close, and when you shuffled against him, his entire face suddenly felt very, very hot. He could feel the warmth all the way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

"Alright, this is probably going to hurt. Are you ready?"

"Uh, yeah."

God, why was he so embarrassed? Why couldn't he calm down? His heart was thrumming against his ribcage, pounding so hard he wouldn't be surprised if you could hear it through his chest like he could hear it in his eardrums. With you pressed up against his lap, he could admire the details on your face like he never could before. The curve of your nose, (Was it always so perfect?) the color of your eyes, (Were they always this beautiful?) each and every mark and… and he didn't know where the hell to put his hands. Maybe he should… No, it'd be best if he just-

"Ow! Holy fucking shit that hurts, why didn't you warn me?!"

"I did, you dumbass."

The second you pressed the rag to his cut, a sharp sting shot through him and he flinched back instinctively. When you pressed it to him again, he tensed up and subsequently jerked away.

"Aki, you need to hold still."

"Sorry."

You gave him a second to compose himself before trying once more. Aki winced and swore under his breath, but he was able to keep still this time. You cleaned around his wound carefully, taking the washcloth away to give him a break whenever he squirmed or made it obvious he was in pain. Searching for something to hold onto, he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing tight to ground himself.

"You shouldn't have left the hospital so early, this looks horrible." You ascertain.

"I- shit, ow… I need to get back to work, I've-" He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of air, "I've lost enough time already."

The pain stung like all hell, but there was something about being looked after by you that felt nice, almost calming, in a way. There was also something about how you fit in his lap that felt so, so right. Aki could hardly get over that feeling, and when he was squirming too much so you gently held his waist to keep him still, your soft touch against his bare skin was tender and heavenly and perfect. Any more of this, and his heart might pop like a balloon.

"I'm almost done," You said softly, your tone comforting, "You're doing good, hang in there for me."

Aki gave a quick nod and you continued. You cleaned the entire length of the wound, and once you thought your work was sufficient, the next thing you grabbed from the table was the fresh roll of bandages. You began wrapping them around him, winding them up the width of his body once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. When you were finished, you asked him, "Are you okay?"

Aki merely nodded again.

"Are the bandages too tight?"

He shook his head. You secured the bandage with a knot, and when you started to slide off of him, Aki suddenly stopped you by grabbing your arm.

He can't let this moment end. Not right now. Not when he needs it. Not when he's needed you for so long.

"Wait," He said nervously, swallowing, "Can we… Can we stay like this for a little bit longer?"

You smiled, "Of course."

You slid back into his lap, carefully straddling him, and Aki couldn't help but feel the way your body connected to his was like puzzle pieces finally fitting together. He's not sure if he planned to or if it was purely by natural reflex, but he was a slight bit bolder this time when he allowed his hands to find your waist and hold it faintly through the fabric of your clothes.

"Are you alright?" You asked him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just really missed you."

To be honest, that didn't even begin to scratch the surface. Aki missed you so goddamn much. He longed for your touch, for your mere presence alone. To have you in his lap now was a blessing, and what he didn't tell you was on that day, when he woke up at the hospital and you wrapped your arms around him, the feeling which leapt through his heart was the most he's felt in a long, long time.

Fuck, he was so stupid. Why did he ever try to push you away? Why did he think that was a good idea?

"I missed you too." You replied.

"I'm sorry, I should have called you."

"Aki," You said with a half-hearted laugh, "It's okay."

"No," Aki shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing, "It's not, and I'm sorry. It's not okay for me to get hurt so badly I'm out for three days, or for me to ignore you, and I won't let it happen again. I promise."

His expression seemed to soften, and the next thing to leave his mouth was spoken a little quieter, a little softer, and much, much warmer.

"I don't ever want to be apart from you, not for that long. You matter too much to me."

The way he said it so genuinely took you by surprise and ignited a little feeling inside your heart. It was a few seconds before you responded, "I don't want to be apart from you either."

The room grew silent, and in between the two of you, only deep breaths and lingering gazes behind heavy blinks of eyelashes were exchanged. The sun is nearly set by now, the day nearly spent. Twilight casts the faintest lush glow of orange on half of Aki's face, and the other is obscured by the dark shadow the light creates. The way it makes him look is practically ethereal, and your hand starts to drag up, up, until you're caressing his jawline, cupping his cheek, feeling warmth radiate from his skin when he leans into your touch.

Aki's not really sure what it was, or how it happened, but something fell into place right then. A want turned into a need turned into a desire, and Aki knew, he knew he was done for, but quite frankly, he didn't care.

He shouldn't be doing this, should he? His fingers shouldn't be trailing under your shirt. They shouldn't be shaking, climbing slowly upwards until he can study your waist, the dip of your sides, the outline of your ribs. He shouldn't be losing himself to you, nor should he be allowing you to touch him so earnestly, so intimately.

With one hand, you toy with the piercings on his earlobes, and the other you run up the back of his neck, tangling it in his hair until he can feel tingles throughout his scalp. Meanwhile, he touches you with the delicacy of feather-light fingertips against your skin, like he was scared you might shatter if he wasn't careful, and the nervousness of unsure movements and trembling hands. And when he does so, he shouldn't be wanting more. If he shouldn't be doing this, why did it feel so good, and so right?

All he knew anymore was right now he wanted, no, he needed you, more of you. More of your touch, more of everything you'd be willing to give him, and then some. He needed you to take him somewhere far away from this world, because when you touch him like this, he doesn't feel empty anymore. He doesn't want it to end, even if he should, even if it would be the smarter choice. Truth is, he's been cold inside ever since that snowy day, and this is the most warmth in his soul he thinks he's felt since then.

You're his partner, nothing more. But in this space away from reality, inhabited by just the two of you, the world of devils doesn't really fucking matter.

Maybe it's because he was a little tipsy, or maybe it's just because he was high on you, but his mind was a dream-filled haze, and with a budding, lovesick ache in his chest, Aki felt words blossom until they were falling from his mouth like petals, words he thought he would never say again.

"I love you."

It came so naturally, as did his affectionate hold on your chin between his thumb and finger, as did the way you whispered I love you too in return without missing a beat.

Do you? It felt like a dream, but if it was, this was one Aki definitely didn't want to wake up from.

I do, always have. It wasn't a dream, it was real. You loved him. You said you loved him, and he didn't even know how to process it. He didn't know where to begin. But with you right here, he didn't think, he didn't complicate it, he just believed you. He let his heart take control and allowed everything to unfold.

His eyes dropped to your lips, and then gravity started to pull him in closer, closer, listlessly, his hand seeming to guide you forwards in the same way. His voice was quiet when he asked, Can I kiss you? and your response only came in the form of eyes fluttering closed and your mouth pressed against his.

His lips were soft, hesitant, woven with sparks, filled with a longing he didn't even know he had, and to him, yours felt like a dizzying sense of relief. All of his longing, all of his infatuation. All of the times he was so close to you but stopped himself from doing anything more. All of the indirect kisses shared through sticks of cigarettes. All of it led up to this. And yet, the moment was cut short when he pulled away almost as quickly as he leaned in.

When you met his gaze, you smiled, and told him, "You can kiss me like you really mean it, you know."

"Like… Like how?"

"Like this."

Your lips sought his again, but this time they pressed harder, for longer. In between struggles for breath, your mouths parted. Suddenly, your hands were becoming lost in his hair and he was kissing you much deeper than he ever could have expected or imagined. He tasted vaguely like cigarettes and beer, the ones you both always smoke, the kind you both always drink. Comfortingly familiar.

It had been forever since he'd kissed someone, and never since he'd been kissed like this, so everything was clumsy and messy. The dance became one you were teaching him how to do, and eventually, he started to get the hang of it. He was hesitant at first, but when he pulled you closer by your waist and you rocked your hips hard against where he was stiff beneath you, all nervousness and any attempt to control himself went out the window.

Sucking on your tongue has him feeling lightheaded, and with soft sighs and gasps echoed between each other, it was then that Aki realized: you didn't just taste like his cigarettes, you felt like them too. Your lips on his felt like the way nicotine soothes your lungs, working its way into your blood until you're left hopelessly addicted.

When you pulled apart, he was breathing heavily, eyes filled with lust and an almost divine sense of adoration. Your hand pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart thrumming beneath, and you pushed him until he settled backwards. Tender kisses were blessed to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, where he tilted his head up to give you better access, and then you kissed the Adam's apple in his throat, where he let out the sweetest whine.

Your lips traced downwards, and where they did, they wrote words Aki wished he could etch forever into his skin. There was a kiss on his collarbone, then one on his chest, over a faded scar. Another, on top of a bruise, and although still sore, the pain was drowned out by tingles of pleasure.

If it's possible for heaven to exist on Earth, Aki thinks this might be what it's like.

Somewhere down the line, his hand met yours. When exactly? He doesn't know, but what he does know is your fingers fit into the crooks of his too perfectly to be a coincidence. He knows it's ridiculous, but it has him thinking perhaps, his hands weren't meant to summon devils or hold the hilt of a blade. They were meant for something more like this.

Somewhere down the line more, he's asking, Can I touch you? and the hand that's free is moving on its own the second he sees you nod, his palm exploring wherever it oh so desperately wants to. It slips under your bra, caressing and squeezing your breasts, rolling the nipple between delicate fingers. Callouses morph his touch into a mix of rough and gentle, providing the slightest bitter reminder.

A moment of clarity finally befalls him when he notices your fingers playing with the drawstrings of his pants. A moment which whispers to him, Hey, this is your last chance to get a grip, are you going to take it? He chooses to pretend he didn't hear.

Actually, he chooses to go directly against the little voice in his head when he grabs your hand, his fingertips brushing against your knuckles as he starts to guide it down, down, right to where he's craving it to be. There's a gnawing hunger for more that festers in his heart, in his stomach, and in between his legs and… For fuck's sake, when did he get so hard? He's so turned on it hurts… Was all of this just from a little kissing?

He's hopeless. Way more hopeless than he thought, way more needy than he thought. And who can blame him? No-one has ever touched him like this or loved him so strongly, not once in his life. Certainly you can't blame him for being a little desperate.

So if he wants you to touch him, you will. If he wants you to make him feel good, you'll make him feel even better, all because he deserves it. He works so goddamn hard, he's been through so much. He deserves to be happy, he deserves to be pleasured, he deserves to be loved. He deserves to have a break from how horrible the world can be and indulge in something much sweeter.

You know exactly what he needs, and so, you give it to him. Grant him a little taste to hold over his appetite. And God, when you do, Aki's mind is so far down the gutter there's truly no hope of saving him. (Not like there ever really was, anyway.)

"Fuck," Aki swears under his breath once you palm the shape of his dick through his pants, nearly stuttering. When he speaks again, his voice is barely uttering the words, but they roll off his mouth so effortlessly that he hardly knows what he's saying anymore. "Right there baby, just like that, holy shit…"

It doesn't take long before his legs are starting to squirm and his head is tossed back, needy moans punctuated by his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His hand flies to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise, and his hips rut upwards in a desperate plea for friction. Even though you're only rubbing him through his sweatpants, the feeling that pumps through his veins, settles in his core: it's addictive. He can feel himself sitting thick and heavy against his thigh, leaking out all over it. Your touch feels so damn good he doesn't even notice when your hand slips down, past the hem, until it starts feeling a whole hell of a lot better.

One less layer of fabric makes all the difference. You can feel the outline of his cock more prominently, big and incredibly hard, the cotton of his boxers damp and slightly see-through over the tip. He needs something to hold onto, anything, so he grabs your waist with a firm, white-knuckled grip. The way you're squeezing him and rolling your palm is driving him fucking crazy and he knows he can't hold back anymore, not when it feels this amazing, not when he wants it this bad. All it takes is one more grind into your hand before he's on the edge, and when everything is tumbling over, he's riding it out and letting it happen.

Cries of your name are entangled with gasps for air as he finishes, cumming right in his boxers. His back arches into you, his entire body tensing before it abruptly goes limp. His moans are so perfect, and the way he whimpers even after his release is absolutely adorable.

You give him a moment to catch his breath and recollect himself, his chest rising and falling with force. You reach up, brushing his messy hair from his face and tucking it behind his ears. Then, you lean forward, lips connecting with the nape of his neck. The skin gives between your teeth, and he sighs when you softly suck a deep mark, one you know will last 'til morning.

He must be so pent up. That's the only explanation behind him cumming before he's barely been touched, before you've barely even done anything. He must have never been touched by anyone like this. Hell, he probably didn't even touch himself like this. There must be so much built up tension, so much that he's starved for any kind of touch, so much that he'd get hard from just a kiss, from just you sitting in his lap.

You want to touch him more, give him more, give him everything until he's whole again. You can help him relieve some of that tension, couldn't you?

You pull back, admiring the bloom of dark purple on his neck, before kissing his jaw. Then, you trail up, where you nibble at the metal piercing on his earlobe, kiss the shell of his ear, and whisper, "Can you keep going?"

Aki's mind is in a complete daze when he answers, his voice light, like he's high, "Yeah…"

Your thumb hooks around the waistband of his pants and the briefs he's made a mess out of, and he raises his hips to help you pull both garments down just as far as necessary. You know his dick wants to come free so bad, and when it does, it springs up and taps against his abdomen.

Aki can hear you spit into your hand, hear his heart pounding in his ears like a drum. He knows what you're going to do, but he's still nervous. The anticipation might kill him, but he's too embarrassed to look, so when your hand suddenly wraps around him, the surprise causes him to jolt and his breath to catch in his throat.

His pretty cock has a certain weight to it, a certain curve and thickness which makes your fist fit perfectly around it. Paying careful attention to the high he just came down from, you stroke him slowly, gently, almost in a lazy manner, sliding off of his lap and making yourself comfortable beside him so you're able to get a more desirable grip. The mixture of his slick and your spit is enough to make your hand glide up and down easily, echoing a soft, wet sound. Your shoulder is pressed to his, and here, you're able to utter the quietest of words into his ear.

"Does it feel good?"

Aki nods. "Mhmm…"

"How good? Tell me."

"Really good, really really good… Ah, fuck-" Aki momentarily cuts himself off when your palm swipes against the sensitive tip, his hips rocking upwards desperately, "Please, don't stop."

It feels amazing. Being touched by someone else like this, and that someone being the one he's so desperately in love with. It's like nothing he's ever felt before. It's making his head spin, like he can see stars. He's already fully hard again, and he can feel himself fucking throbbing.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes…" Aki groans between sucks of air through his teeth. He's thrusting into your tight grip shamelessly now, his dick sliding in and out of the hole you've made with your fingers, to the point where you don't even have to move it anymore. He's whining, getting himself off on your hand and dribbling precum all over it, all by his own doing.

"What do you want?"

"I- You- I…" His attempts to get the words out mostly end in failure until you hear him swallow, and with a sigh, he admits, "I want to fuck you."

His comment is direct, way more inappropriate than you thought possible for him to say, and goes straight between your legs. It's hard to keep up your previous confidence now, but still, you tease, "Do you? How bad do you want it?"

"I want it so bad, I want more of you, I want to be inside you," Aki begs, each sentence punctuated by a breath as he fucks your hand, "I need you so goddamn much. You don't understand."

"Yeah? You wanna fuck me so badly, huh? I can tell."

"Yes, yes… Fuck- I'm gonna cum again, I'm gonna cum, oh my God-"

You jerk him off as his thrusts take on an unsteady rhythm and all of the sudden, Aki is falling apart in your grasp, moaning as he cums all over his chest and his stomach. It shoots out in ropes, and even when he thinks he's done, it still drips out of his cock, coating your hand and making your fingers sticky. And after everything, even once he's came, he's still half-way hard and thrusting slowly into your hand like he can't get enough.

You abruptly take your hand off of him and he whines in dismay. You lick your fingers first, then shift back on his lap and bend down, dragging your tongue from the bottom to the top. Over his stomach, over his bandages, up his abs and over his chest, all the way until he's squirming and you've licked up every last drop of his cum.

When you're finished, you comment, "I think I understand a little."

"Huh?" Aki replies, still catching his breath.

"I mean I understand when you said you need me."

"Do I make it that obvious?"

You smirk and plant a faint kiss on his lips, one that makes his heart jump a little in his chest, and then pull back to speak against them, "You always have."

Aki grabs your chin and goes to drag you in for another, but he's interrupted when you're blabbering, "Wait, wait, wait, wait," and pulling yourself away from him.

"What?"

You point to where his arm is wrapped in bandages, "I need to take care of that. I'll give you what you want after."

Aki can't even attempt to hide his disappointment before it's plastered all over his face. "Are you serious? Can't it wait?"

"You're not going to want to do it later, so no, it can't."

Ugh, he knows you're right. Once he gets started with you, he's not going to be able to stop, and either you're going to forget, or both of you are going to end up too exhausted. He knows he has to listen to you, but fuck if it isn't frustrating to have to control himself right now. Honestly, he's not sure if he can, and he definitely doesn't want to. He needs you and he's tired of waiting any longer, so he brazenly asks, "Can you do it while I'm inside? On my lap?"

You brush off the vulgarity of his comment as to not let it affect you, but it's hard to ignore the feeling between your legs when you start to imagine it. "I can't multitask like that. I want this as badly as you do, you know."

"I won't move. I just want to feel you."

He seems awfully sure of himself with that statement, so sure you almost believe him, so sure you're starting to consider it…

"Are you sure you can't wait?"

"I can't."

"You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?"

Aki watched your hands find the bottom of your shirt, where you grasped at the hem and pulled, wrestling it and your bra over your head before tossing both articles of clothing in a heap on the floor. You reached for your pants next, and he asked, "Is that a yes then?"

"It will be if you help me." Came your reply, your pants and underwear discarded at the same time, just as hastily.

"With what…?"

Your answer comes in the form of you straddling him, grabbing his hand, and bringing his fingers to your lips.

The sight that follows is one Aki simply cannot begin to tear his eyes away from. It's a bit befuddling at first: the way your mouth parts, and the way you lick a prudent stripe of saliva up the length of his middle and ring finger. When you take the digits further, pushing them down your throat, wet and hot tongue swirling around them, Aki's breath gets caught in his lungs, and it's there that he realizes what you're trying to do.

His gaze remains fixated to the display. You're sucking on his fingers, gagging, practically choking on them with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. They're getting all wet and messy with your spit and drool. It's such a fucking cocktease, and it's making him imagine things he shouldn't be imagining, but things he absolutely needs. He doesn't protest when you drag his fingers out, prop yourself up on your knees, and proceed to guide them right between your legs.

Aki has no idea what to do and he's totally transfixed by you, so he allows you to press them inside you, and then he follows your lead, shoving them in the rest of the way. You groan when his fingers fill you, leaning over and whispering quietly in his ear, reassuring him, "I'll show you what to do, it's okay."

You've taken his fingers all the way down to the knuckle. They're slender, trained, and fucking long, much longer than yours. They reach so deep inside, feel so amazing stretching you out.

Aki really, really wants to make you feel good, and that's the only thing running through his mind as he concentrates fully on you. On the feeling of your cunt around his fingers, on your moans, on your beautiful face. He needs to return the favor for you, and he desperately wants to see how you look when you're overwhelmed by pleasure, hear how you sound when you can't hold back, and he wants all of it to be because of him.

So he pays the closest attention. His fingers are slick from your saliva and spit, and he takes note of the way you're pressing them in and out. When you instruct him to curl them, he does so, and when you're screaming, There! Right there! he commits that spot, that movement of his fingers to memory.

He's a rather fast learner. You understood this when you kissed him, but with the way he's working you, massaging that perfect spot inside again and again, you've become aware of it even more so. Your instructions were no longer needed, and Aki took the liberty of fucking you with his fingers all on his own, scissoring them, until you're getting wetter and wetter around the digits. They're so damn good to you, so perfect, as perfect as the way they sit between the crooks of your own. Surely, his hands were made for you.

"So wet… It's squeezing so much." He mumbled quietly, half to himself, almost as if he's in awe.

Searching for more stimulation, you maneuvered a hand to your clit, rubbing tight, hasty circles. Aki noticed your movement and your noises starting to pick up, so he innocently asked, "Can you show me what you're doing?"

When you grab his hand and pull him out of you, Aki can feel the resistance, as if his fingers are being sucked back inside, and the thoughts that immediately manifest in his head would be enough to send him to hell ten times over. They come out covered in your slick, and you press them to your clit carefully.

It takes him a little bit longer until he's got a good grasp on this one. He keeps a slow, deliberate pace, mindful of how your body reacts and the manner you're guiding him. He doesn't always find the sweet spot at first, but each time he manages to, it feels like utter bliss. In due time, he begins to pull more noises from you, and when your focus starts to shift from teaching him to grinding against his fingers, searching for more of your own pleasure, he starts to take the initiative.

His fingers rub precise halos right where he can tell you're most sensitive. They're so disciplined, so dead on, and fuck, he's teasing you with them. Rubbing your clit determinedly before slowing down, stopping, edging, before starting up again, and repeating the process. His dick aches just by watching you and knowing he's making you come undone in this way, so he's trying to draw this out, make this last as long as possible.

"Is this good?" Aki asks curiously, sweetly.

"Yes! It feels amazing, oh my God, Aki-"

His name falling so deliciously from your lips makes his heart flutter before it goes right between his legs, making his cock throb. It's an abrupt, awkward realization when Aki notices he's been dribbling precum all over his abdomen, and probably all over his bandages too. Damn, between that and him finishing all over them, he's created more work for you, hasn't he?

Your knees feel like they're going to give out, so you rest your hands on Aki's shoulders for support. Your breath is coming out in ragged gasps as you feel your release already close, and when your head dips, Aki is using his free hand to hold you up, support you, lovingly muttering into your ear, "I wanna make you cum baby. Are you gonna cum all over my fingers?"

Everything in your core builds to a fever pitch, and all at once, you're wrapping your arms around him as you finish, clumsily grinding your hips against whatever part of his hand you can find, making it messy. His arm goes around your back, and he praises while you tremble, voice smooth and resolute, "Just like that baby, just like that. You're so beautiful when you cum."

Aki holds you while you come down, and you almost, almost forgot what your objective was going into all this, until you can feel the bandages on his arm rubbing against your bare back. You're a bit reluctant to move, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't eager for more, eager to get his cock inside you. His fingers were one thing, but they weren't enough, and almost as if he can read your mind, Aki whispers low and breathy into your ear, "Do you want my dick, sweetheart?"

He's asking you, but it's mostly his way of telling you, of prompting you. Telling you he wants you too, right now. And God you want it, need it, and you really don't need him to tell you twice.

Your hand finds his cock and he sighs as you pump the length a few times, getting it wet with his precum. It's so hard, thick, and throbbing steadily beneath your palm. With how needy he is, it's impossible to tell he already came two times before this.

You grasp the base and hover your hips over him, aligning it until the tip presses right against your entrance, prodding, teasing, so close but not quite and making your cunt pulse around nothing. He grabs your chin, tilting your head until he can look at you. His eyes meet yours, and behind the kind, cerulean gaze, is nothing but lust and desire.

"Do you want it?" He asks again, unflinching.

"Yes, I want it, yes…"

"Then take all of it."

Aki grabs your waist and pulls, guiding you to sink down on his cock. He's whimpering the moment he's inside of you, but he doesn't get greedy, continuing to drag you down awfully slow as he opts to enjoy the feeling of filling you up inch by inch.

Your cunt is squeezing him so much, sucking him in, taking all of him so well. He's not sure what to focus on: your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, eyelids fluttering closed, or the near addictive view of his dick becoming buried further and further inside. The sight is somehow enough to make him even harder, and he can't contain himself from rolling his hips upward in tandem with pulling you on him further.

It's you, it's him inside you, and holy shit, it's a feeling that's hardly set in yet. It doesn't hit him fully until he's stuffed in to the hilt, filling your stomach, with your weight settled on top of him. In this moment, it feels as though now, more than ever, the love he'd kept hidden for so long is finally tangible, finally real. He almost moves, nearly thrusts up, but he stutters and stops himself before he can once he sees you reaching behind you for the roll of bandages.

Fuck, he almost forgot.

"These first," You gesture to the bandage wrapped around his sides, speaking through ragged breaths, "You got them filthy."

"Sorry."

Despite the calm veneer you're trying your best to maintain, it's clear you're hurrying, unwrapping the bandages with haste and a hint of desperation. They're tossed to the side without a care when you're done. Aki's chest heaves with every shaky breath, so you instruct him to hold it, otherwise the bandages won't be secure. He complies, and when he does, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it pulse in his dick; it's near agonizing to keep still, and he hardly can.

When you're finished there, you reach for his arm next. Thankfully, this wound isn't anywhere near as bad as his other one, but the press of the rag against it is still enough to give him a sharp sting. Trying to avoid hurting him too much, you slow down a bit and focus, well, as much focus as the situation will allow.

Aki shifts beneath you, his hips fidgeting, fingers of his hand still held deft to your waist drumming against your skin just to keep himself busy. You can tell he's desperate for something more when you feel him twitch inside your stomach. Right now, he's so enthralled in you, in the feeling of being inside you, in being one with you. It's not long before the pain blends with pleasure and he doesn't even notice it anymore. He'll let you do whatever you want to his arm while he stares at you, drinking in the view like this'll be his last time seeing it.

You wrap the roll of bandages around his arm once. He's shuddering, and he can't resist rutting his hips up a bit, just barely so that you won't notice, but just enough to get an ounce of relief.

Twice. You've almost wrapped up the length of his arm. One more time, just one more time around and he'll get to fuck you.

Three times. He's so dizzy the room is spinning.

Four times. Fucking hell, he can't handle being teased like this, was now really the time to be this thorough?

Finally, finally, after the fifth time, you wrap the last of the bandage around his arm, tear it off and tie it. The second you've tossed the roll aside, his hands are grabbing fistfuls of your hair to pull your lips onto his. The kiss is frantic, sloppy, and he's using way too much tongue, but you don't have the time to correct him, nor does he have the patience to be corrected.

When Aki pulls away, he wipes the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand while thrusting into you, wasting no time at all to satisfy everything he'd been craving and fulfill the pleasure he was desperately waiting for. His grip on your waist guides you to bounce shallowly on his cock. He doesn't let you go up far before he's dragging you back down again, longing to stay deep inside you. Each press down has his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, and each thrust up has him moaning a pathetic string of swears, practically whining between every word.

"Fuck, fuck… You feel so- a-ah, fucking good baby, oh my God-"

He reaches so deep inside you, and when he guides your body by your waist, it's not only for him, but for your needs as well. He tilts, curved cock fucking into you at just the right angle to hit the perfect spot like he was made for it. His hips are moving with reckless abandon now, rolling upwards to an unsteady, ragged rhythm. You hold his face, caress his parted lips with your thumb, feel his hot breath ghosting against your skin, and suddenly, he stops. His hips halt as he firmly holds you still, and his voice is rough, a bit hoarse when he gasps out, "Can we change positions?"

You're a bit confused, but give an affirming nod. Aki pulls you off of him gently, slowly, savoring the feeling for as long as he can. When he's out, he uses his strength to easily twist you around until your back is on the couch and he's oriented above you, pulling his pants and boxers off the rest of the way and discarding them on the floor. Long, dark hair falls over his face in a mess, and he reaches up to comb a hand through, pushing it out of his vision so he can see all of you properly.

"Are you okay with this? Are you comfortable?" Aki asks at barely more than a whisper, his eyes locked onto yours as he grips your thighs and tenderly pushes them open. When the couch has no more space to provide and your leg is about to slip off, he grabs it and tosses it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm okay," You answer, continuing to say, "Aki, don't push yourself. You're still injured, remember?"

"I won't, I'll go slow. Don't worry." He affirms with the faintest smile.

Aki's never been dirty-minded, but when he looks at you, allows his hands to take to your body, palms gliding up every curve of your form, his mind can't help but wander. You bring out something in him that he's never experienced before, something that makes him want to have his way with you. It's awfully strange to him, that feeling of wanting, of yearning. For so long, he's wanted a lot of things and never got them, but he's never desired something this selfish before. Every second of your time, every inch of your body, your everything, he wants all to himself. It feels good to want something, someone.

Aki's never been much of a daydreamer, either, but he can't say he hasn't imagined this from time to time. Meaningless sex has never appealed to him, but sex with someone you trust, with someone you truly love, deeply and passionately, is another story. Being as close and as vulnerable as possible to another person, giving them all of you, and they trust you enough to give themselves in return; it's something he's always desired to experience at least once in his life before he dies.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't have let it get this far from the start. But after a lifetime of never being selfish, never getting anything he wanted, right now, what he should or should not be doing doesn't matter. All that matters is you under him.

His hands settle on your hips, adjusting them until they're lined up with him, and then he leans down to murmur, "Are you ready?" And all that matters is the way you whisper back, "Yes, Aki, please, give it to me. I need you."

That's all it takes. That's all it takes before there's no going back, and Aki is fully drowning in this sensation of utter want and utter desperation. He's so easy to convince when it comes to you, always has been, and if you're telling him that you need him? Being needed by you is the best feeling in the world, and when you ask him like that, he couldn't deny you any longer even if he wanted to.

Aki presses inside you steadily, colliding his mouth with yours and stealing a quick kiss to silence his moans, his hair tickling your face as he does. You're still so wet, and he slides in easy, filling you up until his hips are flush with yours and your legs are wrapping around his back, crossed at the ankles. When he pulls away, he notices your arms splayed above your head. He grabs your hand, linking his fingers with yours, his grip tight, safe, and familiar. Warm, for the first time in a long time.

Aki doesn't move, not at first. He catches his breath, stares at you, at your face, admires everything he finds perfect about it. He can't stop himself from smiling now, and from the way you're smiling back, he's sure he must look like an idiot. So he lets his head fall, burying his face in the nape of your neck, softly mumbling, "God, you're so beautiful."

When he finally does start moving, every drag of his cock out is done at an exceptionally slow, meticulous pace, and once he presses back in, he puts his full weight behind the roll of his hips, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly get. His breath is hot and quivering when he moans into your skin.

"Oh my God," Aki whines, "You're so fucking good to me baby, feels so good… Can I go faster? Please?"

It wasn't much of a question, more like a heads-up, because before you're even telling him yes, Aki's moving faster. He bites at your neck as he becomes a bit rougher, a bit less contained, but steady; he's still holding back. He leaves impressions of his teeth and places wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck, sending a tingle up your spine. Finally, he gives you one last kiss before he draws himself away, his eyes immediately connecting with yours.

He's so damn pretty. Everything about him is pretty, from his staggered whimpers and moans in pleasure, to the lovely mark you've left on his neck, to his messy dark hair. It frames his face perfectly, and loose strands he has to keep pushing out of the way stick to his forehead from sweat. No-one gets to see him like this, with his hair down, since at work, he makes a habit of always keeping it up in his topknot. At work, he's a totally different person: the Division's strongest, coldest Devil Hunter. But here? He's just yours.

You're the only one. The only person who knows how pretty he is, and what he's really, truly like, under all that coldness. You know it's just a facade, and underneath everything, he's just someone who wants to be loved. All he desires is a little bit of intimacy, a little taste of something normal, just to feel something. Perhaps, you're the only one who understands, or perhaps, his warmth is something you draw out of him.

You bet you're definitely the only one who gets to see what his face looks like when he's all hot and bothered, though.

Aki's tempo is quickening more, the couch starting to creak under the pressure. He's breathing harder, and he chokes out as he fucks into you, through gasps of air, "I know you can be louder than that sweetheart… Don't hold back… Let me hear you."

If what he wants is to hear you, that's what he's going to get, and he's going to get all of it.

"Aki! Fuck!" You cry out, and you swear you hear him start to hold back his own whines so he can focus on yours. "It feels so good-"

"Yeah?" He teases, a little smirk present on his face. He still hasn't broken eye contact with you, fawning over you with blown pupils and a half-lidded gaze like he's so unbelievably head over heels. His voice is light, bordering on a whine when he speaks again, "Does my dick feel good?"

"Yes! It's s-so… fucking good." You're slurring, stumbling over your words, just focused on him, all of him.

"I bet it does baby, you're- fuck- taking it so well, you're so perfect."

Aki's grip remains tight on your hand as he drinks in every noise that comes out of your mouth. The sun is well past the point of dipping below the horizon, rays of light starting to fade away. The room is growing dark, growing dim, illuminated by only the faintest pink glow, but through it all, you can still see the outline of his face, his body. His defined nose, sharp jawline, dark hair, and broad shoulders. Earrings that shine when they catch the dying light at the perfect angle. If Aki had more patience, he'd get up and turn on a light, but he doesn't, so this will have to do.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room. The way Aki makes love to you is tender, relaxed, languid, like he has all the time in the world and he's going to savor it. He hardly cares about chasing his own release, just about enjoying it and making you feel good, but multiple times, he finds himself having to deliberately slow down to keep from finishing too quickly.

He can feel his body tensing up, but each time he gets too close to the edge, he shoves himself all the way in and stays there, lets himself calm down. His cock is throbbing, and holy shit, he wants to cum so bad. So bad that if he moves even the slightest inch right now, he's not going to be able to hold back, but he has to. He has to when you get impatient, rut your hips against his, and plead, Aki, move. Please.

He wants this moment to last, so he's going to hold on for as long as he possibly can, staving off his orgasm until he just can't take it anymore. He gives himself a couple more moments to come down from the euphoria before he's fucking you again, giving you everything you want.

And he's so damn vocal, so much more than you expected he would be. He doesn't attempt to hide how good he's feeling at all, moaning at every thrust, at every clamp of your pussy around him. He teases you, praises you, like he can't hold back from saying any and every thought that happens to enter his brain.

You want me to fuck you deeper? Harder?

Tell me. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you.

Are you comfortable, baby? Does it hurt?

Ah, fuck, I'm so close already, I don't wanna cum until you do, baby.

Aki holds himself off, for longer, for further than he even thought possible. Even when he wants to cum so bad he's fucking delirious, he holds it, focusing on giving it to you just how you want, just how you beg him to. You're begging for him to go faster, Fuck me harder, I can take it. Fuck me like you really mean it. And you and him both know, whatever you ask him to do, he's going to do it. His side is starting to hurt, a little dull throb, but he ignores the pain when it's overwhelmed by waves of pleasure.

The sounds coming from the both of you are so obscene, so loud they can probably be heard a few apartments over. Aki is still holding your hand, never let go, and his grip is clammy and sweaty, but he still holds onto it tight. He can feel you beginning to tense around him, and when he does, he doesn't relent. He keeps up the same deliberate pace, just how you like it, hitting the perfect spot inside you every single time. The way your pussy squeezes around him is making his head spin, and when he once again finds himself right on the precipice, he knows it's over, he can't hold back anymore.

He can't stop, there's no way in hell he can. Not with your moans and screams and chants of his name in his ear. Not when your cunt is throbbing around his dick, so hungry for his cum, so demanding of all of him. He rolls his hips and fucks you deeply, hand reaching down and fumbling to find your clit, and when he does, he rubs clumsy, rough circles that quickly build up a tight coil of pleasure right in your core. His head dips and he presses even closer to your body. Your hand snakes into his hair, fingers threading through close to his scalp where you grab and yank back hard, drawing a needy whine from his lips.

"F-Fuck, I'm gonna cum, please," Aki begs, voice high-pitched and desperate, helpless, "Please let me cum inside you, please, I need it so bad, I can't- I-"

He can hardly speak, and each thrust of his hips is sloppy and inconsistent. Between his dick fucking butterflies into your stomach and his fingers messily working your sensitive clit, the stimulation is growing too much to handle, and you can't deny him. You can't when he begs so sweetly like that, when he sounds like he needs it so goddamn bad. Before you know it, you're gripping his hair tighter and commanding, Cum for me, Aki, fill me up with all of it.

"Yeah? You want all of it? Then- Fuck!" He cuts himself off, ramming into you one more time before his hips are shaking, his whole body's shaking, actually, and he's stammering, "I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cumming, oh my God, I love you, I love you…"

Aki's holding onto your hand so hard his grip might break it, and his voice in your ear is enough to throw you over the edge. You cry out, cunt pulsing hard around him. The steady throb around his dick feels like it's milking him, pleading for every last drop he's willing to give, everything he has left. And he's going to give it to you, pump you full of it and not even let a single drop go to waste. It's what you want, after all.

Everything, it's so overwhelming, it's too much, it's nothing like Aki has ever experienced in his life. He's shaking so hard and he can't stop it, and his vision has gone so blurry he can't see a thing, all he can see is black. He's gasping, whining, and he can hardly breathe, just feebly choking on air as he fills you with so much of him. When he's finally done, the feeling that overtakes him is utterly euphoric.

It's like he's floating. His body goes limp, and his heart is pounding, but he's calm. Incredibly calm, like finally letting go, vulnerable, allowing the waters to take you wherever they so choose. He's tired, so tired, but not a heavy, exhausted kind of tired. The sleepy kind of tired that holds you tight and weighs you down, that promises to take care of you and if anything, never let you go. It envelops him until he's slipping away, and it's kind of like, kind of like…

It's kind of like dying, isn't it?

To die by your hands is a pretty good way to die.

Aki's body pins you to the couch as you both come down from your high. The both of you are covered in sweat and smell undeniably like sex. He's so close, so warm, to the point where you start to feel hot, but his weight pressed on top of you feels nice. It's comforting, feels safe and puts your mind at ease.

For a while, the two of you lay there, relaxing and letting yourselves sober up. His heartbeat is slow; you can feel it through his chest pressed up against yours, and eventually, the rhythm of your heart begins to match his. He's still inside, still holding your hand, but through a much looser grip. His head is nestled in the space next to yours and you can feel his steady breaths fan out on your neck, tickling the shell of your ear.

He's quiet, really quiet. His breathing is so deep… Is he falling asleep?

"Aki?"

No response. None.

"Aki. Hey." You squeeze his hand and shift a little bit under him, wiggling like you're attempting to push him off of you, although there's clearly no real effort put behind it.

Nope, nothing. He doesn't move an inch. He's got to be out cold.

"Come on," You drag your hand away from his to shake him a little by his shoulders, and it seems like your grip disappearing was enough to wake him up a little. He shifts, just the tiniest amount, and you continue, "Aki, I know you can hear me."

He doesn't move, again. Just grumbles in your ear.

You sigh in defeat. Fine, he can lay on you for a little bit longer. His injury might be hurting him. He did work himself really hard, after all. If he's exhausted, he can rest, he deserves to get some. You run your fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his head, listening to the constant inhale and exhale of his breath.

The moment is oddly peaceful, considering what just transpired. The room is covered in a thick darkness now. It's deathly still and incredibly silent, save for the distant whistle of a train passing by somewhere in the city, but it feels like you and him are the only ones to exist in this world.

Aki is just barely awake, teetering on the edge of falling asleep for real. His weight on top of you and the rhythm of his breathing might be enough to lull you to sleep as well, that is, until he starts mumbling in your ear.

"Love you. So much." His voice is groggy and tired, to the point where it's difficult to tell what he's even saying. You can make it out close enough, thankfully.

"I love you too."

"Thank you."

You laugh half-heartedly, "What are you thanking me for?"

"Everything." He replies simply, and finally, he decides he's ready to get up, pushing himself off of you with a large exhale of breath, his muscles feeling weary and spent.

He meets your gaze and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You nod.

Aki's eyes briefly rake up and down your body before he slowly pulls out, flopping back hard against the couch with an annoyed groan.

"My side fucking hurts."

"I wonder why," You push yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with a knowing look, "I told you not to push yourself too far."

"You were the one babbling about, 'Go faster' this and, 'Go harder' that. I think it's your fault."

"No way… Aki."

"Yeah?"

"You got any smokes?"

Aki laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Now there's something he never does.

"Let's get dressed. Then, I'll give you one."

Aki turns on a light resting on top of a table beside the couch. He outright refuses to allow you to put on your dirty clothes, stopping you when you went to reach for them on the floor. From his room, he brings you some of his clothes, and some for himself as well. He takes care of you first, kissing your forehead as he pulls a shirt over you, gently lifting you by your hips to pull on a pair of his boxers and pajama pants. His clothes fit baggy on you and they're covered in the smell of him.

He dresses himself next, hastily, before rummaging around his apartment to find where he left his box of cigarettes. Actually, they're your box of cigarettes that you leant him at the hospital. He hasn't had the opportunity to go out and buy some more because he's been resting at home, so he's been trying extra hard to make this box last.

How many were left again? There's probably a couple. He opens the box to check and…

One. Just one. Did he really smoke that many? They go by so fast.

"There's just one in here," He muses, walking over to where you're laid back on the couch and showing you the near-empty box.

"I guess we're sharing again." You reply with a smile.

"Guess so."

It's not long before you accompany Aki to the balcony. The night air is cold, and there's the slightest hint of a chilly breeze passing through. Aki holds the cigarette between his teeth and shields the lighter from the wind with his palm, striking it once, twice, three times before it comes to life in a flurry of sparks. You stand close, holding his arm, leaning on him.

Aki can't help but feel… strangely euphoric. Now that he's coming to his senses, thinking more clearly about everything, he knows he probably, definitely shouldn't have done this. He's letting himself grow closer to you. What's going to happen when you die? When he dies? When one of you is killed in the line of work, it's not going to be fair to the other. It's not fair to fall in love with someone when you always tow the line between living and dying.

It's not fair. It's not fair, the world isn't fair. In another life, maybe Aki would have a better chance with you. Maybe you two could be a regular couple, be normal for a change. But he can't change the past, can he? All that waits for him is the future.

He's made his choice. He made his choice to be selfish, and now he's got to live with it, but fuck if he isn't going to enjoy it for as long as he possibly can. A man like him doesn't kick the bucket so easily. He's through with complicating things, done hiding anything. He's going to live for as long as possible, and it's going to be with you, whether the damn universe likes it or not.

And if you die, it's going to kill him. It's going to be the death of him, and he knows it.

But the world is better with a little self-indulgence, even if it kills you, right?

"Will you stay the night tonight?" Aki asks, ending the silence, taking a long drag out of the cigarette before exhaling and watching the smoke rise into the starry night sky. The nicotine immediately soothes his lungs and aching body, and with you pressed close to him, all he can feel is total relaxation through his veins.

"Yeah, I can."

"Good. Because I don't want you to leave."

"I won't leave any time soon, then."

A little smirk forms on Aki's lips, and as he goes to take another hit of the cigarette, you push against him, pouting. "You were supposed to share."

"I will. Hang on a sec."

Aki takes another long hit, breathing in the smoke, holding it in his lungs. He turns to you then, and he grabs your chin firm, tilting it up to where he leans over you. In an instant, his lips press against yours in an open-mouthed kiss and your eyes flutter shut in response.

Aki blows the cigarette smoke into your mouth slow and steady, and when he pulls away, it's only slightly, only enough to let stray wisps rise in the space between the two of your mouths. He already breathed in all the nicotine, so there's none left for you, but the smoke still pricks at your throat, still gives you that familiar feeling. Maybe you should complain and ask him to give you a proper hit, but his kiss is just as addicting as any cigarette, so honestly, you don't really care.

"How was that?" Aki asks quietly, pulling away to give you a chance to exhale.

"Another?"

Aki smiles, "Of course."

He's so easy to convince when it comes to you.

—

Aki falls asleep by your side.

He drifts off with his large frame pressed against your back, his dark hair fanned out over the pillow. His whole bed smells like him, and his blanket and sheets are soft. As his arm is splayed over your body, his hand is connected to yours, holding gently where it lays delicately in front of your face. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, his gentle embrace clutching you closer to his body, the warmth radiating off of him, his breath hot against your neck.

For the first time in a long, long time, Aki doesn't dream of that stupid house, or of people dying right before his eyes. He dreams of something much more serene. His own slice of heaven, in this wretched hell.

He dreams of a future with you.

And even though he knows in the back of his mind that it's going to end tragically, he doesn't care. Even though he's aware he's going to die, and just how soon he's going to die, too, he ignores it. Forgets about it.

It's selfish. So, so selfish of him. But he's stopped looking at himself objectively. He'll only look to the future, with no turning back, and it doesn't matter how unattainable that future might be.

He's going to love you until the end.

And besides, there's no one else who's arms he'd rather die in than yours.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #aki hayakawa #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #aki x reader

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emotionallychargedtowel · 10 months

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Intense Subtext in Front of Oblivious Side Characters: "I had no wife in the year six"

There's a thing, I guess it would be considered a trope, that is one of my favorite such things in any form of media but especially any sort of romance-centered story. I don't know of an existing term for this and I'm terrible at being concise so I'm not sure how I could put it briefly. Basically, it's the thing that happens when a larger interaction is happening with a group of people but there's a subtext to it that means something very different--and generally, much more meaningful--to the central characters. You could call it something like Intense Subtext in Front of Oblivious Side Characters.

I've been thinking for a while about possible parallels between BLs and Jane Austen novels and/or adaptations. This is my attempt at taking a small, specific example of a parallel I sometimes notice and talking about it. Austen's novels do a lot of this trope I mentioned. That's in part because of choices Austen made in what she wanted to write about. But it's also because of the social context of her time. There was a lot going on that people couldn't be explicit about, for a variety of reasons. I think one reason why I see similar things happening in some BLs--and maybe one reason for the appeal of certain types of BLs--is the fact that being queer in a homophobic society makes openness complicated in a way that doesn't come up as much for hetero relationships these days. Especially when we get into things like office romances, in which appearances have higher stakes. These complications around openness have a kind of similarity to the reasons Austen's characters had to play a lot of things close to the chest.

Fellow Old Fashion Cupcake fans will remember an example from that series that I think really fits here. Nozue and Togawa agree to attend a goukon, or "mixer" as it's sometimes translated--basically a group hangout intended to help men and women meet for the purpose of finding people to date. Nozue is hitting it off with a cute younger woman, which is bad enough. But then he mentions his "anti-aging" efforts, and because of the mysterious way he words it, the woman asks, "Does that mean you're in love?" which of course catches Togawa's attention even more. He's clearly affected when Nozue answers, "If I were, I wouldn't be here."

@jdramastuff did a great screenshot post of this scene if you want to see what this looked like.

After Nozue's comment, Togawa starts knocking back alcoholic drinks like it's going out of style, ensuring that Nozue will have to help him home instead of going home with the woman who's been flirting with him.

(You could argue that this isn't so much a case of subtext as it is the significance one person assigns to what another is saying. Subtext really requires some degree of communication between more than one person. But while Nozue doesn't fully grasp what's going on, I think he does understand in some ways what he's communicating. I don't want to go on too much of a tangent, so I'll just say that having just read the manga the series was based on, it strengthened my belief that while Nozue is repressed, insecure, even deluded at times, he has glimmers of awareness of his feelings for Togawa and even suspicions of Togawa's feelings for him, and on some level he knows what he's saying, though I don't think he knows in this moment how much these words will hurt Togawa.)

I have another favorite example of this, a scene from Persuasion. It's rendered really well in the 1995 adaptation of the novel with Ciaran Hinds and Amanda Root. (The whole thing is phenomenal, by the way--I think it's the best Austen adaptation ever made, personally.)

A bit of background for anyone not familiar with the story: Anne Elliott was engaged to Captain Frederick Wentworth in 1806 but was convinced by Lady Russell, her neighbor/family friend and a kind of surrogate mother to her following her mom's death, to break off the engagement. She has regretted it ever since. Wentworth was deeply hurt and angry when she broke things off, not surprisingly.

More than eight years later, Anne is visiting her sister and her sister's in-laws, the Musgroves, when Wentworth comes to the area and starts spending a lot of time at the Musgrove place (and with the Musgroves' eligible young daughters). Wentworth acknowledges Anne, but just barely, while paying enough attention to both the Musgrove girls that everyone is gossiping about which one he's going to marry. Anne's sister Mary was away at boarding school when her previous relationship with Wentworth happened, so neither Mary nor the Musgroves are aware Anne and Wentworth were involved and think they were only acquaintances.

At a dinner party, the Musgrove girls try to look up the ship that Wentworth first commanded, the Asp, in the Navy List, a book that chronicles the various ships in the British Navy, their commanders, and so forth. Wentworth tells them not to bother--"she" is not in the current version of the List because "she" no longer exists.

Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove are suitably horrified.

Admiral Croft, Wentworth's brother-in-law and superior in the Navy, remarks that Wentworth was lucky to get a command so early in his career at all, no matter how seaworthy (or un-seaworthy) the ship was.

(Remember, 1806 was the year that Anne and Wentworth became engaged and then un-engaged.)

Gut-wrenching. And nobody else sitting at that table has any idea what just happened. I love it.

I have some more thoughts about this languishing in an excessively long post in my drafts, which I'll try to get out one of these days. I know I've talked to a few people about trying to do some BL/Austen posts and had meant to tag them but the only person I remember talking with about it was @absolutebl. If you're reading this and you want a heads up next time I write about this stuff, let me know!

#austen & BL parallels #jane austen #persuasion #persuasion 1995 #wentworth x anne #old fashion cupcake #togawa x nozue #ciaran hinds #amanda root #takeda kouhei #kimura tatsunari #intense subtext in front of oblivious side characters #tropes #I need a better and shorter name for this

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 8 days

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More sillies because Adamsapple is <333

16. “…I didn’t drunk call you. It wasn’t a drunk call. I called you, perfectly sober.” 32. “You make me want to be a better version of myself.” 50. “I kinda wanna give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you twenty-four-seven.”

Thoughts/ideas: Adam and Angel are hanging out, maybe even playing truth or dare? Angel convinces Adam to call Lucifer and tell him how he feels. Adam agrees, but gets way more sappy than he ever intended, rambling about his favourite things about Luci (32 & 50). Adam gets embarrassed when he realises how long he's been talking and Lucifer hasn't responded to anything he said, so he hangs up. Since it was late and Luci knew he was hanging out with Angel, he assumed it was a drunk call (but he absolutely loved listening to it, it plays on repeat in his brain and is basically all he can think about, so he's disappointed that it probably isn't real). He brings up the call at some point during a conversation with Adam, and Adam admits that he wasn't drunk. Happy ending!!! Maybe they kiss??

Thriving off the casual holydust friendship so much, ever fic with them being sillies together is so good. They kind of match each other's energy, and are absolutely each other's wingman.

Indigo (*egg boy voice* hope you like it, boss!)

(*Sir Pentious voice* Fire the ship ray!)

Thank you you!! 😊

I had this half written and tumblr deleted it 😭😭 Sorry if it's not as good.

Adam clinked his shot glass with Angels, they downed their tequila. He grimaced at the taste. "Ahh, that shit fucking burns all the way down."

"That's liquor baby. Another round my good man." Angel called over the bartender who refilled their glasses. "Wanna play a game to pass the time? Truth or Dare?"

Adam made a face. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! It can be a fun way to get to know each other better. I'll even let you go first." Angel knocked back another shot.

Eh, why the hell not? This place was more of a bar than a club so dancing was out of the question. "Alright, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Adam smirked. "Is your chest fluff real or is it just stuffing?"

Angel gasped dramatically in mock offense. "How dare you, this is all me baby. Ou natural." He adjusted it to make his point. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

Angel smirked. "Are you in love with Lucifer?"

Adam choked on his drink, coughing as he looked at Angel. "What the fuck!?"

"Answer the question."

Adam felt his face grow warm. "Dare."

"You can't just change your answer like that! Haven't you ever played this with friends before?"

Adam frowned. "No." His only friends before Angel had been Lucifer back in Eden and Lute in heaven. You do the math.

Angel sighed. "Fine, I dare you to call him up, right now and tell him how you really feel."

Adams eyes went wide. "Jesus Angel!"

"Pick one."

Adam mulled it over. If he called Lucifer he would likely think he was just drunk. "If I'm going to do that, I'm gonna need another drink."

Angel smirked and called the bartender back over.

Lucifer was laying in bed, half asleep when his phone rang. He grumbled, who the fuck would be calling him at two in the morning!?

The caller ID read: ADAM <3 With a picture of the sinner, one where he had a genuine smile on his face and not flipping the bird.

Was he okay? Did he need help? Lucifer answered the phone. "Adam, you okay?"

"H-hey Luci, I'm fine. But not as fine as you are." Adam wanted to throw himself off a bridge. "Do you have any idea how h-handsome you are?"

What the fuck? "Are you drunk?"

Adam didn't answer the question, afraid he'd lose his nerve. "You make me want to be a better version of myself. Your kindness is infectious like your smile." Adam was sure his face was bright red. He was so in love with the short King it wasn't funny. "Hell, you're stuck in my head all the time. I kinda want to give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you 24/7. You plague my every waking thought."

Lucifer couldn't keep the smile off his face at Adams words. His heart thrumming with happiness. "Oh yeah? What do you like best about me?" He wanted to see where this would go.

Adam's heart was beating hard in his chest. "There's nothing I don't like about you, Luci. Your blonde hair, your mesmerizing eyes, your laugh, even all those ducks you make are endearing." Adam slapped Angel who was trying not to laugh.

Lucifer was quiet for a while just listening. Feeling bold he answered. "You have quite the captivating gaze yourself there, your eyes shine like gold." Adam had beautiful golden eyes, Lucifer hoped that Adam was drunk enough he wouldn't remember this.

Adam was sure he was going to burst into flames. "Oh, well, these eyes of gold only look at you, your majesty." Adam cringed, he never called Lucifer that.

Lucifer felt warm himself, he shifted in bed trying to ignore the stiffy he was getting. "Good to know. The feeling is mutual."

Adam's eyes went wide, his heart leaped.

He should stop before he makes a complete ass of himself. "Angel wants to do more shots, I'll see you tomorrow right?"

Oh Luci <3

"I wish we could have been together since the beginning." Adam was shocked at his own honesty. Fuck, that was way too far, Lucifer's silence told him that he had crossed a line.

Too real.

"Yeah, get home safe and have fun."

"Will do, Luci." Adam hung up, he hid his face in his hands. How fucking humiliating. He looked at Angel. "Are you fucking happy now?"

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd really do it. Proud of you buddy. Wanna keep playing?"

"I want to get drunk."

Lucifer stared at the phone, a bitter feeling in him. He knew Adam and Angel were out getting wasted. That was nothing more than a drink dial.

But oh, that didn't mean he didn't enjoy every moment. Adam singing his praises did things to him, drunk or not. The conversation replayed in his mind. He opened his phone to that beautiful picture of Adam, his other hand found it's way to the inside of his pajama pants.

He could pretend just for a night.

Adam groaned as he came down to breakfast the next morning. He had a wicked hangover, too much tequila in one night. Lucky he didn't puke.

When he walked into the kitchen he froze when he saw Lucifer making pancakes. Play it cool Adam, play it cool. He told himself. With a deep breath, he entered all the way and grabbed orange juice from the fridge. "Morning." He greeted, not looking at the king.

"Good morning, Adam. Pancake?"

"Sure." Adam sat down with his juice as he waited for his breakfast. This felt awkward.

When Lucifer handed him his plate, he dug in. They were both soft and crispy. "So, uh, how was your time out last night?"

"Good. Until Angel started a fight at the pool table." God they got so drunk last night.

"He okay?"

"Oh yeah, that prick fucked around and found out." Adam laughed at the memory. Stupid asshole, should have kept his hands to himself.

Lucifer was gonna risk it. "Do you remember calling me last night?"

Adam froze, okay bringing this up already. "Yeah...." No point in denying it.

"Okay, cause I think you drunk dialed me."

Adam blinked. This could be an easy way out. Pretend he only remembers calling Lucifer but not what he said. But.... "....I didn't drunk call you. I called you perfectly sober." He admitted, face flaring before he added. "I had only had three shots by then, I wasn't drunk."

"You weren't?" Hope filled Lucifer's insides.

Adam looked away. "No."

"Why'd you call saying all those things? Did you mean them?"

Damn you Angel. "Angel and I were playing truth or dare..... He dared me to call you about how I feel." Adam wished the ground would swallow him whole. He braces himself for the rejection that was sure to come.

Adam felt a hand on his chin turn his face to the side. "Wha-" He was silenced by soft lips on his, his golden wide as he saw Lucifer's half lidded and soft. Adam let his eyes slip shut and returned the kiss, his heart fluttered.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that." Lucifer said with a smile. "Maybe, we can go to dinner tonight and you can tell more about what you like about me?~" He flirted, enjoying Adams flustered face.

"Oh very fun-, Luci your pancakes!"

"Shit!"

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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seongminiz · 7 months

Text

call me what you like - park serim

minors dni ; soft dom!serim x sub fem!reader ; 2432 words

warnings : jealousy/possesiveness , reader is insecure , praise , pet names (princess , good girl , baby) , fingering , unprotected sex , breeding , marking , does serim having a driving license count as mischaracterization ? , he also has a massive cock amen . an attempt at proper grammar but only partially proof read so if u find typos or me being an idiot n writing small comments in between no u didnt

first long-ish work i post on here feeling kinda nervous . no fr this is nerve wrecking idk im not good at writing descriptive smut ffs :D but i loved writing it ngl also something kinda upsetting happened today so it ended up a little more angsty than i intended it to be bc what r my fics if not insane projecting lol. the title is a lovejoy song but it has nothing to do with the lyrics i just needed a cool title n lovejoy r kinda the only non kpop music i regularly listen to

you and serim have been in a relationship for a few months now, and while of course you have some small arguments here and there, there have never been any big issues between you two. you love him, he loves you, and neither of you would ever doubt that. that is, until you end up being serim's plus one at some kind of event: you've been following him around all evening bc u have almost no idea of whats going on.

now, you're not usually the jealous type, you're okay with serim speaking to women other than you ffs that's his job, but the way some of them at this event are clearly flirting with him sets your jealousy issues off bad. watching your insanely handsome boyfriend be - or at least act - completely clueless about how they're clearly putting the moves on him, especially with how good he looks dressed like that, white shirt underneath his suit jacket straining against his toned body, leaving little to the imagination.. it pisses you off, to be completely honest.

you can't stand it, you can't stand how so many women, most of them you find clearly prettier than you, are able to get his attention like that, completely ignoring you even if you're basically clinging to his arm.you feel inadequate, just a mere presence they barely acknowledge with a small smile before going back to talk to serim. your serim.

what you fail to notice, though, is that serim is well aware of the shift in your mood. he doesn't know exactly what it's about, but he was pretty quick to sense how upset you had become just in a few minutes, trying to talk to as many people and as quickly as possible so you two could get out of there and he could give you his undivided attention.

of course, you don't know, too focused on dwelling on the jealousy building up inside you. you barely notice when serim gently shakes you, trying to catch your attention 'are you okay princess?' you sigh 'yeah.' your short reply isn't of any reassurance to serim, his thumb lightly rubbing your hip 'wanna go home?' you shrug, trying to hide your (very obvious) upset expression 'if we can, yes. but if you still have to... do whatever you were doing, we don't have to-'

'okay, got it. i'll talk to this one last person, and then we can go home, alright?' you nod, his arm leaves its place around your waist and you once again grab onto it, following his steps. your heart drops when you realize that, unfortunately, said person he has to talk to is a woman. which wouldn't even be that bad on its own, you can stand it for a few minutes (you really can't, but maybe you can convince yourself..), but she also happens to be the most attractive, hottest woman you've seen through the entire evening. you tune out the entire conversation, trying not to stare at her because everytime you take in another detail you feel like crying.

when serim finally cuts the conversation off, you politely - albeit coldly - bid your goodbyes to the woman, walking with serim out of the room and towards the parking lot. when you get to the car, you don't even wait for serim to open the door for you - he's dead set on giving you the full princess treatment - climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

that's when serim realizes, this isn't just you feeling a bit under the weather, you're genuinely upset - and you weren't at the start of the evening, so he knows something that happened between then and now is the cause of your behavior. the fact you're giving him the silent treatment does irk him a little, but he knows that's how you act when something really bad happens, and he could never get mad at you for it.

despite his concern, serim still calmly gets into the car, turns it on and starts driving out of the parking lot and into the bright, artificially lit streets. glancing at you from time to time, he finds you looking out the car window, arms crossed over your chest, deep in thought. when you reach a particularly empty and straight part of the road, serim takes the chance to place his hand on your thigh, something you're both used to during your late night drives. what he doesn't expect, though, is for you to move your leg, wiggling out of his grasp (not that hard, since he wasn't putting that much strength in it in the first place).

serim raises an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the road as his hand helplessly goes back to the wheel. his concentration on driving is what makes him miss the way you look back at him, concerned on whether you've gone too far or not. stopping at a red light, serim's eyes immediately find yours, desperate to get to the bottom of this 'what's wrong princess?' you shake your head, absent-mindedly reaching for his hand in search of any possible physical comfort. 'nothing, you're going to think it's stupid anyways,' you mumble. serim frowns, reaching to move a strand of hair behind your ear 'i would never. whatever it is, it's upsetting you, and I don't like seeing my baby like this.' his voice comes off more stern than he intended to, but his soft touch is there to remind you that he's not actually upset at you. he's just your concerned boyfriend.

serim moves his hand from the side of your head to your chin, tilting it so you have no choice but look at him 'so? what is it?' you pout. 'i'm jealous.' the look that crosses serim's face is a puzzled one 'what?' you shrug, averting his eyes 'you spent the entire night talking to other women, all better looking than me. i'm jealous,' you admit. serim is about to answer you, when the light turns green, the cold hue illuminating both of you. serim sighs, speeding up. 'we'll talk about it when we get home, yeah?' you nod, scared that you might have upset him. even if his voice didn't let that out, you can't help but wonder if he's disappointed in you.

serim parks in front of your apartment complex, a few seconds of you two sitting in the car in silence pass, until serim sighs, taking the keys and stepping out of the vehicle, making his way around it to open the door on your side too. god forbid he let you do it on your own again. you walk out, grabbing the hand he extended to you. everything is so silent, you again question if he's genuinely mad at you for how you acted. you knew you were being immature, giving him the silent treatment and all, you're just getting a taste of your own medicine, but you couldn't help it.

you were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even realize you got to the elevator until the faint 'ding!' of it startles you. you step inside, never letting serim's hand go. 'you know i would never cheat on you,' serim breaks the silence, and your eyes widen in shock to the realization 'that's not what I was implying! i know you wouldn't! i just... those women were all so much prettier than me, and more mature and sophisticated, and hotter and... i'm just me. I felt so out of place, like i wasn't at your level. and it's totally not your fault! but i couldn't help but feel jealous, like I wouldn't even blame you if one day you decided i wasn't enough for you and left me for one of them. and i know you wouldn't but... it still hurts to think about it.' you start rambling, missing how serim tries to stop you a few times by calling your name.

when you finally look up at him, he has the softest smile plastered on his face and, before you can say anything else, he plants a kiss on your lips, his hands immediately finding their way to your hips. 'i would never chose anyone other than you. you're as perfect as you could be, i swear,' you can feel his breath against your lips as he talks, your heart beating furiously against your chest 'i don't care about any of them. you're all i need and you're more than enough, you're too perfect for me' he continues, only stopping to kiss you again. the elevator comes to a halt, and thats your cue to separate, but you know this isn't the end of it. serim's hand finds yours, as he lowers himself to speak into your ear 'i'll show you just how perfect i think you are, yeah?' he whispers, a shiver running through your body at the implication 'will you let me?' you nod furiously, your reaction making serim chuckle 'good girl' he says, kissing right below your ear before guiding you out the elevator.

the short way to your apartment is agonizingly slow, constantly interrupted by stealing kisses from each other and, when you finally manage to step inside, serim has you immediately pinned against the door, locking it behind you as he roughly kisses you. his hands are everywhere on you, your waist, your thighs as your dress slowly rides up to leave you more and more exposed with each movement.

'you don't even know how insane you've been driving me with this dress,' he groans, lifting you up with no effort and, as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his bulge pressing against you, a small moan leaving your mouth. 'serim... need you,' you whimper against his lips, a thin string of drool dripping from your lips onto his. serim smiles, capturing them in yet another kiss as he starts to carry you towards your shared bedroom.

he places you on the bed, your dress lifted all the way to your hips revealing your completely drenched panties. serim can barely contain himself, seeing you all spread out like that, for his eyes only, but he wants to make this all about you and your pleasure.

he starts to slowly undress himself, unbuttoning his shirt before slipping your dress off. your hands brush against his sides, tracing his defined body and tentatively going lower to rid him to his pants - no matter how many times you've seen him like this, it always leaves u in awe how a man this perfect could ever exist, and be your man at that. serim gently takes your hands in his, pins them over your head and places a soft kiss on your lips 'let me do all the work for once,' he says, hooking his fingers in your panties and sliding them off your legs.

before you know it, serim is three fingers deep inside you, opening you up for him bc no matter how many times you've taken him, you'll never get used to just how big his cock is. you've been incessantly whining for god knows how long, about how much you need his cock, you need him, and every time without fail serim replies that 'you already have me, princess, more than anyone in the world, you have all of me.' and proves his point by leaving yet another mark on your skin.

your thighs, your neck, your chest, every unmarked portion of your skin is soon bruised to the point anyone would assume he was the jealous one in the relationship. and maybe he is, just a little bit, recalling how revealing your dress - now discarded somewhere on the floor - was on you, so perfect on his princess but a little too perfect for any other men to look your way.

when serim removes his fingers from you, you're a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, breath heavy, tears running down your cheeks and ruining the makeup you worked so hard on for the event. but that's how serim likes you the most, when you're fucked out before he even gets to be inside of you, his pretty little mess, just for him.

and he tells you exactly that, as his cock finally sinks into you, groaning and rambling about how much he loves this sight, how he's so lucky to have you and how you're his and his only. the sweet praises partially distract you from the stretch, until he bottoms out and you both sigh in unison.

it's not long before serim starts thrusting into you, his pace picking up immediately but never getting quite as fast or rough as it usually would be. he wants to take it slow, savor the moment, his hand holding your hip while the other cradles the side of your face so your eyes don't stray away from him. it's hard to do so, when each thrust hits the perfect spot in you, as you fight the urge to let your eyes close.

'mine,' you moan against his lips, feeling him twitch inside of you 'all yours, princess. and you're mine too, can't stand it when everyone's eyes are on you, you're too pretty for this world.' despite the downright nasty predicament you're in, you can't help the way your heart fills with love at serim's words. you pull him in another kiss, your legs wrapping behind his back to push him deeper inside of you.

'then make me yours in any way possible,' you whisper. serim chuckles, slowing down his thrusts. it's not the first time he cums inside you, but before it was just a result of having unprotected sex. now it's a deliberate choice, to make you his in the most intimate way possible. 'yeah, princess? should i fill you up, mark you from the inside so everyone knows you're mine? would you like that?' you nod, squeezing around him as a particularly hard thrust hits a specific spot inside of you that has you letting out an high pitched moan.

serim's hand leaves your face, his rough fingers rubbing your clit and, before he can even tell you to, you're cumming, shaking as serim helps you ride out your orgasm and reaches his own, spilling inside of you as incoherent praises leave his mouth, telling you how good you've been for him and how much he loves you.

once you've both calmed down, serim presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you tight in his arms so that you can know you're really, uniquely his, and he's not going anywhere.

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#first properly written work i post is abt serim n i feel that says a lot abt me idk #genuinely loved writing this i started giggling kicking my feet while proof reading #cravity hard hours #cravity smut #serim hard hours #serim smut #cravity x reader #serim x reader

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novelcain · 10 months

Text

Please read 🙏

So. I mentioned in the tags of one of my first posts back that I had to announce a few things that'd probably lose me some followers, but like I don't blame anyone if you do skedaddle because I know most of you are here for the monkie (totally understandable tho)

That being said I am no longer hyperfixated on jttw/Sun Wukong and that likely won't happen again for a while cause main the thing that caused me to clock out for so long kinda left a bad taste in my brain. However I will eventually come back to it. I can guarantee that. It just won't be for a hot minute (maybe who knows I can't control my brain lol)

As for the 10 billion asks I have in my inbox rn I'll be taking screen shots of the ones that have to do with monkie and such and putting them in a folder so that when I DO get back into jttw I'll just immediately start with those. So yeah if you sent me a really long ask FEAR NOT!😃 for I refuse to get rid of any of them 🥰

With that information tho, I never really intended for this to be just a monkie blog that's just what my hyperfixation had been on since I started. But I also tried to force that hyperfixation to stay way longer than I should have so that I could keep making content that my followers would like which is a part of the reason why I needed a break for so long. I wore myself out, and I needed to convince myself that it was okay for me to make content that makes me happy too. 😌

Tho unfortunately that does mean all my current projects will be on hold and I'll be updating the titles on ao3 soon to On Hiatus. 😔

I ofc will still gladly interact with/absorb any art or writings inspired by or dedicated to my works even if they aren't something I'm currently fixated on because effort deserves recognition and I love seeing ya'lls stuff more than anything. 🥰 Same goes for any submissions with art or edits/videos.

Also I did finish my Triad AU Sun Wukong character sheet like... forever go and just forgot to post it. 😬 (I KNOW I'M SORRY! 😭) SO I'll be posting that soon once I'm done moving everything around and making things more manageable and ✨️aesthetic✨️ on the blog.

Tho that kinda brings me to the next announcement I'll be merging my art blog and my spam blog onto this blog (so many blogs😫) cause honestly 4 blogs is just too much and I just wanna vibe 😅🤚 lol

The last announcement is that once I'm done rearranging everything I'll be going through all my mentions that I've missed and checking out what you guys made while I was gone cause I heard from a few people that there's quite a bit 😊 *much excitement* (on god I need an emoji that looks like it's vibrating because I need visual representation of how I feel like imma explode sometimes)

#skittle announcement

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