#people complain about wearing masks and like. maybe if everyone just wore it for a MONTH we could get this somewhat under control ?????

[tonkatsubowl]

truth to be told, it takes a lot for aventurine to fully trust someone, let alone loving them.

the man had already lost so much, including his own sense of self. to be stabbed in his back, to be betrayed, to be mocked and used and made fun of—he was used to it. it would take aventurine a while for him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with someone, considering he didn't trust anyone in particular.

though the man wore a gorgeous smile, wandering through the streets of penacony, it wasn't a genuine smile, but a mask he put up. expensive clothing, his beautiful countenance and the abundance of money he liked to toss around... it was just a mask he put up. it was also for the sake of his own reputation, too. especially when you were directly under diamond herself.

the main suspect of his suffering. and the cause of his success. a double edged sword that he walked upon. his own life was theirs. a mere toy, a mere chess piece to gamble with.

...but when he met you, he was confused. afraid, even. but he put up a fake smile, some flirtatious words here and there, but the man did not trust you, nor did he believe you would be willing to stay by his side for an eternity for aeons know what.

when he met you, you were kind, understanding. you were a little stubborn, too, and humorous. you never failed to have aventurine laugh at your cute little jokes, and you never failed to protect him, whether it was against the ipc's mocking him in his name, or against nightmare infested monsters that dared to consume his flesh within a dream.

he was terrified of you.

he didn't know what you were doing to him.

every time he saw you, he felt... weak. vulnerable around you. and he hated it. he loathed it. he hated everything about how you were making him feel, as though you were a curse that came to haunt him due to the sins of his past.

every time he saw you, his heart began to palpitate, his chest aching. and it got worse whenever he saw you so happy with someone else. but... maybe you were better off with someone? everyone kept leaving him, after all, whether it was death or it was simply due to some gambling... game-thing. a business transaction, even.

but you stayed.

you stayed throughout the hardships he faced.

why?

just why?

why, of all people, did you want to stay with him? a once upon a time slave, now a business man specializing in manipulation, gambling (an addiction, to put it), and flirtatious words to soothe the mind so he could win his way.

even through everything, you were still here. that was when he decided to seek out a certain doctor.

he sat across from him, forcing a smile across his lips, but the doctor could see it. the mask that aventurine donned himself with.

"you're in love."

aventurine's eyes looked up to the other, "you must be misreading your books like usual."

"you came here... to me, for your thoughts."

aventurine chuckled to himself, nervously, even.

"love? i haven't heard that word in ages."

"it is a complicated thing. especially with how you can be, gambler. a man who is unpredictable, keen to the eye, and... well, unfamiliar with the positive things."

aventurine cleared his throat, toying with the golden coin in his hand. he purses his lips, his mask wearing off for a moment.

"...now, dr. ratio, i am not doubting your knowledge and intelligence, don't get me wrong. i just don't believe that it truly is such a strange thing called... love."

the genius sighed, "you complained to me the other day that you couldn't stand seeing (y/n) talking to others, smiling and laughing. i recall that i was not assigned to be your therapist, here. the rest should be obvious, but it appears you're too stubborn to catch on... or rather, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. this term. love."

bullseye. it was as though ratio had called him out completely. for once, the gambler was silent. here, he would try to make little comments here and there, some jokes there and wherever but... the man was actually silent.

"... what do you suggest i do, then?"

dr ratio leans in, resting both elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the gambler's own pristine eyes.

"if you are comfortable with it, move at your own pace if you wish to pursue. this is ultimately your choice. you can pursue these feelings, or you may leave it. there is no right or wrong answer, here. this all depends on you and what you wish to do. love is about being vulnerable with each other. accepting each other at their lowest. being for one another. your lover is considered to be your number one companion, truthfully."

aventurine was quiet.

"what is your gambler's intuition?"

a sigh left aventurine's lips. he stood, flipping the coin in his hand, before showing the result of heads or tails.

"...i suppose i'll make a bet with myself. one that doesn't cost money or the finest of gold and jewelry."

the genius watched as the other male got up from his seat, retrieving his sunglasses from his expensive outfit, before placing them on. "i'll make a gamble, to be specific, about this."

"then i wish you the best of luck, aventurine."

months had past, and the two of you were already in a relationship. it had been months, but the man didn't dare to tell you, 'i love you' just yet. as a matter of fact, those words were terrifying for him. what if he lost you after he said that? what if something were to happen to you? he was terrified of saying it, as he wasn't ready yet.

dr. ratio was right—he was paranoid to the bone but hid it. yet, aventurine played a few cards and decided to gamble this relationship with you, to see if it could work out. and so far, everything was well.

you were understanding, kind, beautiful, patient... the perfect partner someone could ask for.

but it also felt undeserving.

did... he deserve this love? did he truly deserve to experience the harmony that his heart fluttered to? he began to doubt. then he spiraled into a panic.

he began to sleep restlessly at night, rendering himself vulnerable to nightmares and the instability of his mind.

... but you were there, throughout all of it.

his eyes shot open, the familiar warmth of your hand gently cupped at his left cheek. he had fallen asleep on the couch, reading a long text presented to him by his supervisor, which was mainly just work and business related things. he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and at first was confused when he woke up.

his phone was placed securely on the table, and there was a blanket draped over him. the air conditioning was turned on for his comfort, and before him was a tray full of biscuits, tea... for him to savor in once he woke from his nightmare.

"are you... alright?" you asked. "you were having a bad dream."

his eyes traveled to your voice, finding your concerned expression, his palpitating heart now steadying at an easy rate. he began to breathe, his eyes softening.

you were here, at his most vulnerable state, concerned for his well-being. he was silent, but he immediately reeled you in for a gentle hug. he was reluctant, but he wanted to feel the rest of your warmth. your head was buried into his chest, and you could hear his heart slow down. he closed his eyes, calming down from his inner demons.

"...you're okay." you murmur, brushing the top of his hair with your hands. "i'm here for you."

you didn't know much about him at all, truth to be told. the man wasn't really comfortable sharing his past with you, yet. he was a locked chest, and in order to find the key to his past, you had to be patient. time was key, but whatever demons he was facing at night... he knew you would be there.

he had doubts, at first, and always believed that he'd always be alone.

but... you were a different story.

"...thank you," he whispers onto your ear, cradling you close to his chest, "for being here."

your gaze softens, and you were silent for a moment. this was the first time you've seen aventurine like this. so vulnerable, so... reliant on you. but you were okay. because everyone has their own weakness. not everyone was perfect, and you understood that.

"... don't thank me." you say, closing your eyes, taking in his scent as the two of you nuzzled up against each other on the couch, "please don't. it's my job—my duty, as your other half, to be here for you."

dr. ratio's words echoed into his brain, reminding him of what love truly is. being there for one another, no matter what.

"you haven't been here?"

months past, and aventurine is presenting a beautiful, scenic view of penacony for you. the night sky was phenomenal, and the beautiful sounds of crickets and late night critters were no more than music to your ears. you seat yourself at the bench, whilst the gambler was walking around, admiring the view... taking pictures, even.

"i haven't, but now i am." you say, flashing a smile.

aventurine took some time off today to take you out on a date. the man had more than enough sick and vacation leave to do this for you, and it's the first time where he actually used it.

he sits next to you, admiring the night sky, and the sight of you above all else.

"it's a beautiful sight. i come here when i want to... relax."

your gaze softens, and your hand comes towards his own. digits intertwine, and you murmur something, audible for your lover's ears.

"thank you for taking me here. to your safe place."

aventurine looks over to you, puzzled.

"... safe place, huh? didn't expect to... call it that. but i guess that's what you can say for this spot. i can feel at peace here." he nods slowly, looking back to the scenic view.

"... it's a spot where you can feel vulnerable and be okay with it," you say, instantly catching his attention, "and i want to thank you for trusting me to bringing me here. i really, really do appreciate it."

ratio's words echo through his mind once more, the pad of his thumb suddenly reaching over, gently lifting your chin. he leans in, granting you a subtle kiss, in which you've returned.

"... may... i be vulnerable, once again?"

he lowered his guard, his voice coming to a whisper.

"you... can always be vulnerable around me. i want to be your safe person." you respond, in a whisper.

"..." he was silent. "i love you."

it was the first time, too, that he said such a thing to you. such strong words that let your heart skip a few beats. your face comes to a faint, vermillion flush, but you were happy nonetheless. you smile, cupping each side of his face.

"i love you too."

#aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine

[ilovethecolorpink]

i can’t we have to wait over 2 more months and let hundreds of thousands of people die preventable deaths before joe biden maybe shuts down the country. it makes me sick

#like i am so angry right now i don’t even know how to describe it #how could people be so selfish. how could over 70 million people vote for someone who could have at the very least stopped so many people #from dying. how could he not even want to shut down the country for at least 2 weeks #the election is over. you lost. you dont need the votes or support of your wingnuts anymore. shut it the fuck down #my school had 9 positive cases in the last week and 5 new ones came in overnight #i just can’t believe it. i really can’t #also fuck charlie baker for what he’s doing i literally hate politicians so much bro is being re-elected worth people dying on your hands 😭😭 #and like. we don’t even know the long term effects of the disease yet in full so when people say ‘’the death rate is only .3%! who cares!’ #fuuuuck you !!!!!!! #people complain about wearing masks and like. maybe if everyone just wore it for a MONTH we could get this somewhat under control ????? #also some research just came out that says restaurants gyms hotels and places of worship account for 80% of cases like WTF!!! shut them DOWN #also not as important but trump taking credit for a vaccine being close to done bro u didnt do shit stfu #urgh sorry just so pissed like my school just canceled all classes today thru weds bc of it which like fine but im just mad bc of the amount #of cases #mine #covid /

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Supernova (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: None! Lmao finally

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: It's a sweet chapter ya'll. I promise.

Supernova Masterlist

“You’re sweaty.” Robin murmured when you rested your forehead against the nape of his neck. You both were exhausted after training and you were a shower away from passing out in your bed but you both still needed a few minutes to catch your breath, leaning on each other for support. Even though he was complaining about you sweating, he didn’t seem to do anything to get away from you, even going so far as to wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You felt him swallowing the gulps of water against your skin before scoffing and wiping your skin with a towel, “As if you’re any better, my eyes are stinging from your sweat.”

Then you both dissolved back to silence, quietly enjoying each other’s company as the night slowly bled into day.

“Do you ever wonder what smoking feels like?” You asked and Robin laughed, making you whine when he began shaking, moving your body in tandem with his because of it. Even though you pinched his side to get him to stop laughing, it was useless since it made him laugh even harder, slugging you off his shoulder as your back hit the training mat.

“It wasn’t even that funny.”

“It was random."

“I was just thinking about it. I can hardly breathe when someone else is smoking beside me. I wonder how it feels actually inhaling the stuff.” You wondered, now getting comfortable on your back and he lay down beside you, “I guess some people enjoy it.”

It was silent again and you yawned, waiting for your body to cool off. The unfortunate thing about living at Happy Harbor was that the weather was unusually hot during the summer, so hot that even the water ended up getting to a scorching temperature. If you went for a shower straight after training, you’d be slowly boiled to perfection.

But the more you waited, the sleepier you got.

Robin spared you a glance as you yawned once again, stifling his own. The training had been taking a toll on him, since he would come to the cave right after patrol instead of sleep at the Manor. Partly because he liked seeing you improve in combat and get better each day and partly because he just liked seeing you.

If he caught you on a good day, you were fun to be around, cheerful and funny. Your energies mixed together well, fitting together like two puzzle pieces but he never lingered on that thought for long. For now, Robin just wanted to be supportive and a good friend. He’d seen firsthand how much you could change when things hurt you and he never wanted to push you towards that again.

His mind drifted back to the day in the interrogation room, the way you didn’t have any remorse for Thelma when she cried and screamed in front of you. It was so unlike you and for a few brief moments he wondered if he ever knew you at all.

He looked at you again, noticing the way you were smiling at nothing, the sheen of sweat on your face and neck before rethinking. He knew you; he was sure of that. And he liked you for it too.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just that prom is next week at school. Before Valerie I would’ve pleaded to go but I don’t think I’d want to return to school after this.” You said thoughtfully, suddenly thinking about what you would do if you made out of all this alive.

“Maybe you should transfer to my school.” He said absentmindedly. It wasn’t really a suggestion that he thought you’d accept but he actually liked the thought of you going to his school.

You sent him a teasing smile, “Oh? Boy Wonder actually goes to school? Not some advanced intelligence nerd program?”

He laughed at this, “You’re one to talk.”

It was silent for the next couple moments once again while you both rested comfortably. This was the thing he appreciated the most about your relationship; when it was silent, he wasn’t scrambling to find some conversation piece to fill the silence. He wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward silence but it never felt awkward when he was with you. It was just silence.

He could stay beside you and just stay silent and that was enough. He liked that.

“What color are your eyes?” You asked again, curious.

“Like I’d tell you.” He sighed, sounding way too comfortable for his own good. You kicked him lighter than you were intending to.

“They’re brown, aren’t they?”

“Why brown?”

“Because I feel like any other color would give you an unfair advantage.”

He settled in further, wanting the training mats to suddenly feel like his mattress back home, “Well I’m no swim team captain but.”

“Jealous?”

“Sure.”

The sweat was making the mats stick to your skin and you felt it aggressively peel from your skin when you turned on your side to face him. Now you were made painfully aware about the cold sweat pooling below you and realized you were in desperate need for a shower.

You rubbed his arm gently, wishing him a good night even though you knew that the sun was up. Robin returned the gesture with a smile, telling you to get a good night’s sleep. As he watched your receding back, a thought came to his mind and he stopped you in your tracks.

“Here’s a thought, why don’t we do something on prom night? Have our own little thing right here? We could watch a movie or something.” He proposed and your brows furrowed, “Don’t you have prom too?”

He did. Which was planned and decorated with the money his father had generously donated. But Dick didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for missing it. He also knew it was the only night that the others wouldn’t be home, all at their own prom. As long as he would get to have a fun night with you.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on going anyway.” Alfred had already pressed his suit and had a special corsage ordered. He was going with Barbara, as friends, but cancelling on her seemed like a small feat in the moment.

“Are you sure?” “Definitely.”

You smiled slightly, nodding before waving goodbye and continuing on your way to the showers. When he heard the door shut, Dick realized just what he had gotten himself to and flopped back onto the mats, ‘What did I just do?’

He’d have to cancel the limo without his dad or Alfred finding out. He’d have to cancel the reservations at the restaurant. For goodness’ sake, he’d have to take a rain check on Barbara. Still, Dick wasn’t able to wipe the smile off his face.

***

You were oddly looking forward to hanging out with Robin tonight. Everyone had already left for their own proms, Zatanna was in a dress that she had borrowed from you. Even though you knew that the prom dress you had been planning to wear would’ve been the best for her school theme, you had a weirdly hard time parting from it, considering it was just a piece of clothing.

All three girls spent a couple hours primping with you, trying their best to include you in some of the fun. You even managed to rope Artemis into getting glammed up. She protested a lot at first but once she got in the chair it was like you had tamed a jungle cat. They had time to style your hair as well and you barely had any idea what was happening while Doja Cat played and you had a sheet mask on. After getting that off, you felt like a new born baby.

You sent all three of them off after taking a ton of pictures and they told you to have a great night too, smiling like they knew something you didn’t.

Now that the cave was completely empty, even Aqualad had left that morning to pay a visit to Atlantis, you were left alone with Robin and were excited about it. You weren’t going to do anything special anyway, other than watching a movie and stuffing your face with food but you were still happy to spend some time with him when you both weren’t sweating like pigs.

Even the thought of sitting beside him on the couch while a movie played had a skip in your step.

Just as you saw the doors to the main hall and a familiar head of hair, you picked up the pace until you stopped walking all together, shocked.

Because there stood Robin waiting by the door with a shy smile on his face. Dressed in a suit and tie.

You chocked out a laugh, not quite sure why it felt like the wind was knocked out of you before walking up to him, gently pulling his fingers away from the tie he was fidgeting with and straightening it out, “A little over-dressed for a movie, don’t you think?”

“Change of plans, we’re going to have our own prom night, right here.”

You giggled, reclipping the tie clip before straightening out the corsage in his breast pocket. You spared a glance up, meeting his eyes and you realized just how close the both of you had gotten. If he didn’t have the sunglasses on, you would’ve been able to see your reflection in his—probably— brown eyes.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from him not before smoothing your hands down the lapels, smiling at just how handsome he looked.

“Wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve matched what I’m wearing to your tie.” You teased.

“Actually, you can.” You raised a brow at this and the red began crawling up his neck, “I asked your mom to drop your dress off. It’s in your room.”

The uncomfortable conversation with Wonder Woman about why he wanted the particular dress that her daughter of the same age was planning to wear to prom was completely worth it when he watched your eyes light up like the sun before throwing your arms around his neck, “Oh my god! I love you!”

The dress fit you like a glove, even though the last time you wore tried it on it had been a teeny bit snug. All those hours training with Robin probably made it fit a little better even though you didn’t look any different. You stood in front of the mirror and couldn’t stop twirling; the dress was just so beautiful and you were over the moon that you got to wear it.

When you met Robin by the door, it felt a little too good to be true, the way he smiled at you just as your eyes met and then held out his arm for you to take. Your heart was sure to stop beating tonight at the rate it was thumping in your chest. You could barely hear him over the sound of it, filled with too much adrenaline and excitement. You could’ve gone for a 100-mile run with the amount of energy you suddenly had.

“You look pretty.”

You grinned and curtsied in an old-fashioned way, tipping an imaginary hat, “Why, thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself.”

He laughed, “Dapper?”

“It’s a word, look it up, tweetie bird.”

“And now all the magic’s dead.”

“Oh? Because I was expecting you to pull out a bouquet from your sleeve there.”

“Actually—” He smiled, pulling out a matching corsage from his suit pocket and holding it out to you, “I went all out.”

He helped you fasten it around your wrist when you struggled to do it with one hand and your breath got caught in your throat. It was awkward, to say the least, the energy between the both of you. In fact, there was so much tension that you felt like you could choke on it. Even though your first response to any kind of distress was to hide underneath the blankets in your bedroom, you still stayed by his side.

“So, what are we waiting for? What movie are we watching?”

It seemed like he finally remembered why he was standing outside the hall in the first place and smiled shyly, a blush faintly painting his cheeks. It felt like he was stalling the more you thought about it, lingering at the door for way too long as if something would explode or jump at you if he put his hand on the handle.

“Actually—”

He opened the door and you gasped, “You need to stop saying ‘Actually’ because every time you do, I get a heart attack.”

How he managed to get all this done in a day was beyond you. The table was filled with snacks and drinks that you knew was meant to be left over for Wally to finish. The TV had a blanket fort in front of it, looking so cozy that you suddenly wanted to take a nap. The holo-computer was projecting something similar to a carnival game, with a couple targets levitating mid-air, labelled with different points.

Your heart fluttered when you realized that Robin had gone through all this just to make sure you’d have a fun night and suddenly your eyes felt alarmingly wet.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?” Came his incredulous response and you gave him the weakest punch you could possibly muster because you knew any harder could give your date a hairline fracture, “Excuse me. It’s a perfectly healthy emotional response.”

“Yeah, but you cry a lot, have you realized?” He teased, pulling you toward the holo-computer, giving you a simulator stun gun and then picking one up for himself.

“You don’t cry at all, Mr. Roboto,” You cocked the gun and pointed at him playfully, “But no matter, you’ll be crying once I beat you to dust.”

His signature laugh was the next thing you heard and you blushed, embarrassed that you liked it more than you cared to admit, “Let’s just see about that.”

***

“And then she goes—Word for word, I’m not even kidding—” You told, picking up a tennis ball and using it to imitate an apple before pretending to take a bite out of it, “Young lady, eating is simply not allowed on school premises. *crunch* These rules obviously apply to everyone. *crunch* No one is above the rules. *crunch*”

Robin was laughing at your horrible British accent and the way you tried so hard to sound all hoity-toity, had Alfred been here he would’ve been appalled. To be quite honest, you weren’t even sure if the lady was British or not, but it seemed fitting and the way Robin was laughing made you embarrassing yourself a teensy bit worth it.

“Not to mention she’s spewing apple chunks all over me. I can never unsee that image.” You shuddered, shaking your head and his laughs dulled down to chuckles.

“That’s not that bad. Once, our health class teacher was covering contraceptives and such. And he stands in front of the entire class and, with absolutely no hesitation, asks ‘So boys and girls, what are your favorite condom brands?’” You burst into laughter at that hiding your face in your hands as tears began blurring your vision.

“Oh, my goodness, I can’t breathe, stop talking!” You interrupted his story, clutching your stomach and flopping on your back from laughing so hard. He laughed, watching you writhe on the floor, unable to stop the choked chortles that were leaving your lips. Your stomach felt like you had just done an ab workout.

The movie that was playing had long gotten over, the credits frozen on the screen as you both continued to talk, recounting all the hilarious stories you could remember as music played in the background, “Alright, so it’s an all-girls program and all of the girls are chattering about and have their own little groups in the auditorium. And my principal goes, ‘Why are you all standing so close? You all are straight girls, are you not?’”

“Not as bad as a girl volunteering to sing during a school assembly before serenading me in front of the entire school. Even though we’ve never actually talked.” He blushed, remembering just how embarrassing the situation was. You threw your head back, missing the moment Robin took to admire you.

“You little Casanova. Are you really complaining about being a heartthrob?” You teased, nudging him playfully and he rolled his eyes though it was hidden by his glasses.

Eventually the stories and laughter begin to die down as your ears tune into the music playing in the background. Just as a fun, rap song that you weren’t paying attention to but were sure had something to do with sex ended, you heard the familiar tune flow through the speakers and smiled as the singers’ voices filled your ears.

“Ahh, I love this song.” You smiled, listening to the first verse. It was a pretty love song that always got you singing when you heard it playing in the car. It was the song you listened to on repeat when you read a romance book to give you the right feels. Closing your eyes, you recalled the last book you read to the music, smiling as the feeling of giddiness began to flow through you.

“Care to join me for a dance?”

When you opened your eyes, Robin was holding a hand out for you, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face and you didn’t hesitate before taking his hand. If he had asked at the start of the night, you probably would’ve blushed and felt nervous just by holding his hand but after spending a couple hours together, you were finally in tune with each other.

You didn’t mind resting your hands on his shoulders as his floated around your waist before you began swaying to the rhythm. You had spent the whole day together, more or less in the same way; resting against each other while watching the movie, holding his hand when he attempted to throw a ball with your lacrosse stick and failing before you stepped behind him to show him how it was done and finally feeding each other food as you attempted to play the guess different foods while blindfolded.

You giggled at the way Robin squirmed when the petals of your corsage tickled his neck, still swaying out of beat to the song but it didn’t really matter, you were just trying hard not to trip over the slight train of the dress or on his feet.

“It’s occurring to me that I haven’t actually thanked you for all of this.” You began, eyes darting around the place as you took in just how much he had done for you today and your heart swelled in your chest, smiling softly without even realizing it. His fingers tightened their grip on your waist slightly and the light blush crawling on his cheeks was the only indication that he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

You looked him back in the eye, well at your reflection in his sunglasses, “I’m really touched, Rob. No one’s ever done anything like this for me and I really don’t know what to say to make you understand just how much this means to me. Thank you.”

Thank you didn’t even begin to express how much you felt for him at this point, dancing with you in bare feet across the hall. A night you had been dreading for a while, a night you thought would be spent all alone was made one of the best ones since you opened your eyes on the planet just because of him. You couldn’t tell him how grateful you were for that.

He felt embarrassed that you were putting him on the spot this way. You had said so much and a simple ‘You’re welcome’ didn’t seem right to say. It felt awkward and distant and off-putting, how would you continue the conversation after he so rudely shut you down without any other way to continue?

His hands were slightly sweating against your dress and if you noticed the increase of warmth from his palms, you didn’t say anything. So, he said the only thing he could to sort of fill the silence, “It was nothing, really. You really don’t have to thank me; I didn’t do much. Besides, I hardly think any of this could compare to your real pro—”

He was cut of by your hands slowly sliding to delicately cup his cheeks before slanting your lips over his in your first kiss. He inhaled sharply against your lips, fingertips digging into your waist. The kiss itself wasn’t much, just a silky brush of your lips against his without any pressure before you pulled back and gave him an endearing smile, “Thank you.”

He returned it, pulling you a teensy bit closer so he could hold you against him but still far enough so you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming against his ribcage.

***

Not even twenty minutes after the two of you had parted with whispered goodnights, you climbed up the stairs to Robin’s nest, with your makeup freshly washed off and dressed in comfy pajamas. You saw the tip of Robin’s head peek out from the beanbag and smiled. Your heart was slowly sinking to your stomach with the thought of talking to him.

“Hey.”

He turned around, seemingly surprised to see you which he never seemed before. Usually, he could hear you from a mile away. The tie around his neck was loosened, the top button undone and his suit jacket lay wrinkled beside him, though he was still wearing his glasses.

Nonetheless, he gave you a gentle smile, scooting over a little so you could plop beside him on the beanbag, “Missed me already?”

“Yeah.” The honesty in your voice caught him off-guard and he found himself blushing and avoiding your eyes as he waited for you to speak again and tell him why you came up here. Of course, his heart leaped at the thought that you were up here just to see him, even though you spent the whole night together.

“Listen about earlier,” He turned his head to you but this time it was you who wouldn’t look at him, playing with your fingers in your lap, “About the kiss; I’m sorry.”

He could hardly hear anything other than his heartbeat when he heard the tone in your voice and he knew that something bad was going to come. Were you going to tell him that it was a mistake and that you regret it? He wouldn’t hold it against you but his heart tore at even the thought.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking for permission first, I’m sorry. I was just reliving it and I realized that I never actually asked if I could, you know? It’s just I really like you and got caught up in nerves and emotions and all—” Somehow you managed to catch yourself rambling and stopped, taking a deep breath, “Anyway, if it made you uncomfortable, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

You glanced back up at him with a shy smile, “Are you gonna say something or, do you want me to leave….”

If it was possible, you looked even more beautiful barefaced and hair pulled back from your face than you did in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen you in before.

“Could I kiss you? Please?”

Your breath got caught in your throat and you found yourself leaning in before you could even think of saying anything.

Who were you to say no?

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[yandere-sins]

Hello! How are you? May I pls request the prompts scratches and collar for Sakusa Kiyoomi for the yandere writing challenge thingy? I hope this is alright! Thank you <3

Thanks for requesting!! Sakusa is one of my favorites actually, so I am really excited to write for him! uwu Please enjoy!

Scratches - “Try that again sweetheart, I dare you.” (I don’t want to overlap prompts too much, so I am doing just this one!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Living with Kiyoomi had never been easy.

When you two got married, you’d been quite intimidated by him after your husband wouldn’t look at you even once the whole day. You thought to yourself about how much he must have hated you, considering he only agreed because you two had been promised since your childhood. This marriage didn’t seem like something he was interested in, and the moment you were ‘unloaded’ at his home, you felt like the strangest organism in the whole world.

Nonetheless, you tried to be liked. If you at least couldn’t be a nuisance to him, you thought he might accept you as his partner. But all your attempts backfired gloriously. He wouldn’t eat your cooking, clean over your cleaning, ignore you after he came home from training. For the first year or so, he wouldn’t even take you to one of his matches. You were sure other spouses were allowed to go, so why not you?

But you got used to it. You had to, somehow, or else you probably would have never stopped feeling unloved and unwanted. It wasn’t what you expected, hearing about love all this time, but you didn’t have a bad life by his side, at least. His accounts were filled with money, food was delivered fresh to your doorstep every day, and though you didn’t know anyone in the city that you two settled in, you got along well enough with your neighbors, so you didn’t feel too lonely.

And what you least expected, once you accepted that you and Kiyoomi could never be an item, he started to relax too. Had you been too much? Maybe pushing him too far without realizing? Intruding on him? Or perhaps he had just been told to be nicer to you by his parents, but your surprise was great when he joined you to watch TV one evening.

Given, he didn’t speak a word and didn’t seem too interested in the show you were watching. There also were about two seats free between you, but it was a start. And gradually, your relationship improved.

»»———————— ♡

Nervously, you looked at your outfit, wondering if it was too much. Kiyoomi had never asked you to dress up to accompany him before, scowling whenever you decided to try and impress him with your fashion sense or asked to go with him. Even now, you knew that asking you to come and meet sponsors was just a way to look good in other people’s eyes; he even had a suit delivered to him that day. It wasn’t you who was wanted. It was the image of being married to someone. But as his partner, maybe that was the only thing you could do to please your husband.

“Are you ready?” he asked through the door, not daring to step into your room. He never had entered it ever since you moved in, and you wondered if it was because he disliked you so much or because he feared you were ‘dirty’. But you gave yourself an encouraging nod in the mirror, quickly making your way out. “All done!”

You didn’t expect him to stand right in front of the closed door as you opened it, almost running into him but stopping at the last second. “Do I look fine?” you asked, noticing him appraising you over the rim of his white mask. He looked comically like that, suited up yet wearing gloves and mask as if he was going to clean, but even so, you had to give it to his looks that he was handsome. You didn’t doubt your own attractiveness, but the curt, “It’s alright,” he muttered did sting.

»»———————— ♡

Had you known how exhausting these kinds of events were, you would have almost been thankful that he never took you with him before. Giving it all you had sure was taxing when you never did it before, but you wanted oh-so-badly to be accepted by Kiyoomi’s side. You didn’t even notice your own mental exhaustion until you finally had a chance to sit down.

Alone, again.

Maybe you simply weren’t fit for this kind of life. You didn’t know much about volleyball, and there were many weird insider jokes you didn’t understand. Everyone appeared so friendly, some faces still familiar from the wedding, yet you couldn’t help but notice the pity in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing, you were sure. Just how pitiful you were to be so unluckily married to a man who never seemed interested in what you two had.

“What’s the long face for, hm?” you suddenly heard a cheerful voice, something cold being pressed to your cheek and startling you. You looked up in confusion, only to be blinded by a warm and cheerful grin, the light of the room being reflected through a water bottle and accentuating his features even more.

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, reaching up for the drink he held out to you. “I didn’t see you coming, Atsumu-san. I’m sorry, I was in thoughts...”

“No offense, but you don’t seem to have much fun,” he sighed, plopping down next to you. “It’s such a shame Omi-Omi never shows you off, yer so cute, you know? Makes it much easier to endure parties like these!”

Laughing it off, you found yourself mesmerized by how carefree Atsumu seemed. To you, all of this was a big deal, and you had always assumed it was the same for everyone. But apparently, more people shared your sentiment of the time seemingly dragging out. Without noticing, you chuckled, and Atsumu’s eyes flitted over to you before he straightened his back briefly, crossing his legs. Smirk falling over his lips, you almost caught yourself gasping at how gorgeous he looked in the ambient lighting around you two.

“That’s much better. Ya should laugh more!”

Feeling the warmth spread through your face, you quickly cleared your throat, looking away as to not stare. For a moment there, you thought he really looked like an angel, making you feel at peace around him. “I just- You know- You call him Omi-Omi?” you changed the topic quickly, trying to hide the awestruck expression on your face by hiding behind your hand a bit.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t recommend it, he doesn’t really like it, but it’s fun teasing him, ya know? He gets all-” Reaching up, Atsumu pushed his brows together and put on his best impression of Kiyoomi. “‘Don’t call me that, you Idiot. Work on your serve if you have so much time.’ That’s what he says to me! I’m just trying to be friendly...”

Shaking your head slowly, you couldn’t hold back your laugh as you listened to him gush on about your husband treating him ‘unfairly’. Part of you felt sad having to hear it from a third person, never having been able to collect experiences with him yourself. Still, you were also relieved to see he wasn’t just treating you so coldly. “You’re so funny, Atsumu-san,” you chuckled, and he finally stopped talking, relaxing next to you after his tirade.

“There we go,” he mumbled, and you felt his hand fall to your head, giving it some pats. It made your heart grow to receive the affection, slowly but surely making you realize you had been missing fooling around and laughing or even being touched gently for a change. “Don’t let him get to you, ya hear me? Or I’ll come and kick his ass for you!”

“Who’s ass are you kicking?” you both were suddenly interrupted, and knowing the voice, you looked up. Shame hitting you, you stood up, Atsumu’s hand falling from you as you slipped out from under it, facing your husband cautiously. “Kiyoomi, you’re back!” you mumbled, wondering if your mood change was too noticeable. “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he announced, ready to go.

“Don’t just go around touching other people’s spouses, Atsumu,” he warned his colleague sharply, his arm coming around your back. Still, not even the tip of his glove touched you, much less gentle than Atsumu did.

“Mood-killer,” you heard Atsumu complain. “Good night, [Name]!” he called after you, and you graced him with a brief smile thrown over your shoulder, waving after him while you let yourself be led out by your husband.

»»———————— ♡

The ride home was almost as tiring as the evening itself, and the streetlights passing you as you looked out the window weren’t enough to keep you awake. It was a long drive, but the next thing you noticed was a warm body carrying you upstairs from the garage. “Bastard,” you heard a voice, slowly but surely regaining your senses.

“Kiyoomi?” you asked meekly, rubbing your eyes. Blinking a few times, when you looked up, you were met with a disgusted glare staring down at you, instantly making you shrivel into yourself. A flight instinct set in, and only now you noticed he was carrying you through the hallway of your house, not bothering being gentle with the bathroom door once he reached it.

He seemed furious and disgusted, and at least one of these were emotions you had never seen him make before. You almost expected him to drop you into the bathtub as you found yourself hovering over it, but he set you down gently. Nonetheless, the sudden stream of cold water hit you like a slap in the face as he turned on the shower without even a moment of hesitation. It grew warmer quickly, but you found yourself weirded out as your clothes began to stick to you. Kiyoomi, too, barely took off his blazer before kneeling down next to the tub, reaching for the shampoo standing close by.

It was in no way gentle or comfortable as he rubbed it onto your head, the gloves he wore not helping at all. You began to splutter as you had to close your eyes, soap going everywhere on your face. “Where else did he touch?” Kiyoomi asked, almost too calm for the fact it felt like he was trying to press the shampoo into your head rather than wash you. “No- Nowhere!” you complained, ducking out from his touch and wiping away soap from your face. “What are you doing?!”

“I don’t believe you,” was all the answer you received to your question. “Tell me. Now. Don’t make this harder for us.”

“What...” you muttered, flinching as you felt his hands fall to your body, grabbing your clothes. “What’s wrong with you!” you finally yelled, swatting his hands away harder than you wished you did. Finally, you got the time to wash off the soap and open your eyes again, feeling ill-treated and confused by his actions. Though despite the warm water, as you finally managed to look at him again, you felt your body freeze.

You thought you knew how he looked at you all this time. Disappointed, disapproving, and disgusted, but this time it was different. He looked at you as if you just ripped his heart out and claimed he was fine like that, and that hurt almost more than any look before. But in the next moment, it was gone, just like a snap of his fingers, and he grabbed your wrist, tightly and unbudging even if you complained. “Try that again, Sweetheart, I dare you.”

Blinking a few times, you couldn’t decide what was scarier; seeing him for the first time up close, face only inches from yours and without the mask, which usually gave some more distance between you two, or having him threaten you. Kiyoomi never talked more than a few words with you at a time, nor did he show any interest in anything you did. “Slap my hand away again, and I will make sure you can’t use it for a long time, you understand? Don’t you know by now who you belong to?”

His questions were so clear, yet in your head, they made no sense. Who did you belong to? Who was it?

“Y-You?” you eventually muttered. “Do I belong to you?”

A question as stupid as it sounded, and yet, it eased Kiyoomi’s rage, it seemed. “That’s right,” he confirmed. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine ever since we met for the first time, don’t ever forget that. I am the only one that is allowed to touch you and no one else. Especially no sleazy bastards like Atsumu.”

“Kiyoomi...”

“Undress,” he interrupted you. “I have to clean you.”

Hesitating, you gripped your own clothes. Never before had you heard him talk like that, especially not about you. You never even believed he could have those thoughts about you, and after being unloved for so long, they felt like bandaids to your wounds. Mind you, not strong bandaids, no. They didn’t even manage to heal you partially, but who were you to complain. Because, what Kiyoomi said...

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly stripping out of your clothes. “I’m sorry... Omi.”

You were stretching your luck, but you were so close to tears as he placed his hand on top of your head. It wasn’t like Atsumu’s. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t fill your core with happiness. No, it pressed you down, making you lower your head and feel so insignificant compared to its greatness. But it was Kiyoomi’s. The person you wanted to be loved and caressed by the most.

“It’s okay,” he sighed, and for once, his voice sounded almost gentle and forgiving after you did something. His hand stayed as his free one helped you get out of your clothes, and laying your own hand on top of his, you felt his warmth for the first time, no glove separating you two.

And to this day, you still remember wondering if what Kiyoomi said meant that he loved you too.

Even if that meant you were living in the worst kind of relationship possible.

[You can find the prompt list here]

#Sakusa Kiyoomi #Kiyoomi Sakusa #Sakusa haikyuu #yandere sakusa #yandere!sakusa #Haikyuu!! #Haikyuu #HQ!! #yandere haikyuu #yandere!haikyuu #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #lovelove prompts #Anonymous

[hanjizung]

♡ Dreamy Welcome. ♡

Lee Minho x Reader.

Word count:  4.4K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT; (mentions of) orgasm control, fingering, masturbation, (a bit of) exhibitionism, creampie, breeding kink, basically just love making, pet names.

Hello! im back with another request from when i reblogged this promp list ! [8) “If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.”] hope you enjoy!

You had been missing Minho a lot since he went on tour, missed everything about him; his voice, his laugh, his smile, the way he called your name, how he hugged you and kissed you on the forehead after teasing you… His whole absence felt weird, it wasn’t killing you but you missed him a lot, you needed him back as soon as possible.

There was an unwritten list of things you wanted to do with him once he was back; first you had to hug him, tell him how much you had missed him while kissing his face and making him feel a little shy from all the affection you were giving him in front of his members, then you would steal him and take him to your house for a movie night where the only thing you would actually focus on is going to be take care of him, massage him if he wants, play with his hair and cuddle with him on your couch until he fell asleep, and the last thing on your list was to make him fuck you senseless.

Of course the two of you had the occasional phone sex, it was mostly him hiding in the bathroom between practices and telling you to touch yourself for him, moaning his name but never cumming, because he said that he wanted you to cum on his cock, he wanted to be the one to give you an orgasm that would have you seeing stars.

That was the promise he made during one of those calls late at night that had you feeling needy and in not a very good mood for the next day, it made you feel frustrated that you stayed always at the edge, but you were equally proud that you hadn’t broken his one rule.

The day he called you and told you with a happy voice that his last concert was in 3 more nights and that in two days after that you would be able to see him, you exploded. When you went to work you got asked multiple times what had happened that you couldn't stop smiling, making you laugh and lie to them that you were just excited for something that happened to one of your cousins or something like that.

It was a more contrastive mood than how you behaved last week, bags under your eyes, eyes semi closed from how tired you were and not so happy because your beautiful boyfriend required a session of self love where he got to edge you multiple times. Twice, to be more precise, the sudden change surprised everyone at your workplace. You seemed more energetic and focused, you did all your work with a smile on your face and you sang during your break when you ate.

You asked your boss if you could leave earlier one day, and seeing how competent you were behaving he accepted, wishing you good luck and telling you that he expected you to stay working as efficiently as possible and that he was happy with your work pace. You simply nodded, not hearing much of his speech because everything that was in your mind was your beautiful boyfriend.

Days passed quickly and you found yourself showering at 4 am to be able to go and receive your boyfriend and the rest of your friends in time. You would be done getting ready at 5, then had to get a taxi to the airport and then you would be able to spend the day with all of them, just like you wanted.

The early morning was cold, and you were thankful that you decided to wear an appropriate coat to protect yourself from the weather. You placed your hands together out of nervousness, anticipating the moment that all of them would arrive, walking through their fans and following the staff to where their vans were parked.

True… you couldn't run to Minho and wrap your arms around him. You had to keep the black mask above your nose and the dark glasses to avoid raising suspicion and pretend to be another staff member. Your relationship was a secret…

Sighing, a plane finally landed and the giant bodyguards that you sometimes brought candies to started walking towards it, you running not too far from them and breathing in to try and control your excitement, failing momentarily when you saw a group of men walk out followed by some other people close behind them. You recognized each one of your friends as soon as they walked out, they wore comfortable clothes and they seemed to be needing some more rest.

The real staff instructed them to go to the previously prepared cars, and you rushed to find your dance machine boyfriend.

You waited for Changbin, Jisung and Seungmin to get inside the car, Minho noticed you and he got in, waiting for you to close the door after you hopped in to hug you and pull you close to him in a loving manner. In the front seats, there was one of the bodyguards and the designated driver. You snuggled closer to Minho, he whispered "I missed you a lot" for you to hear only and he kissed your forehead gently, making you feel incredibly happy.

Not even 10 minutes inside the car, and soft snores could be heard, Minho's weight felt heavy in your side, but you didn't care, you were happy knowing that from that day he would get to rest for a long period of time, and you expected to spend a lot of time with him.

The stillness of the car made you open your eyes, rubbing them to get accustomed to the sun rays filters through the clear front window and you realized that you had finally arrived at the dorms. The bodyguard opened the door for you, giving you his hand to help you out. You shook Minho gently to help him wake up, yawning when he looked at you with disoriented eyes, and then you took the waiting hand to wait for them outside.

When all of them were outside the car, you helped them walk to their corresponding dorm, helping Minho walk with closed eyes because he wasn't fully awake, and when you finally got to your destination, the door was unlocked and there was a mountain of baggage and bags ready to unpack, but that would be a problem for later. In the kitchen, sitting with his laptop in front of him was Chan, he gave a low "good mornin" when he saw who had arrived, continuing to do whatever it was that he had on display in the screen in front of him. You nodded, silently greeting him and then walked to Minho's shared room. He plopped down on his bed, moving and patting the side next to him for you to lay down next to him, and you did.

"I missed you" you whispered, burying your face in his chest and hugging him tightly, making him chuckle quietly.

"I missed you too, hot stuff" he whispered back, looking down at you and patting your back gently.

The two of you stayed like that, there was no need to speak any more words, you were finally holding him, you were finally in his arms and you felt so loved. This was your safe place.

With those thoughts in your head, you dozed off again, your breathing almost syncing with Minho's steady one.

You had a beautiful dream with him, it started with you sitting on the porch of your childhood home observing the street until a younger looking Minho appeared and took your hand. He guided you to the insides of the place that used to be your home. He kissed you playfully at first, then he took your face with his hand and held you in place as the heat of the kiss increased and moments later he was eating you out in the kitchen aisle.

You were enjoying the dream probably a little too much, because you were woken up suddenly by your boyfriend's hands on your shoulder, moving you gently to bring you back to the real world.

"Seems like you had an interesting dream, didn't you?" he said. You blushed, hitting him gently on his chest and groaning.

"Maybe I wouldn't dream such things if someone," you shoot him a glare "didn't get me all worked up and then didn't allow me to cum" you complained, making him laugh. You were daring him, and you knew that, but you needed to know how much he would wait until he finally gave you what you wanted and fucked you hard like he'd done before he left.

"Oh, really, baby? It's my fault, then?" he asked. You pouted and nodded, looking at him with needy eyes. "Then I must do something to reward you for being so good, right?" his hand snaked on your tummy, getting to the edge of your shirt and going under it until it reached your breast.

His hand squeezed you, gaining a sigh from you. Two of his fingers played with your nub moment later, he shifted so he would be on his side and able to play with you, his lips finding a home in your neck and kissing you lazily, the caress of his lips against your skin and the sensation of him teasing your nipoles felt amazing, it was enough for you to start getting wet and your breathing to turn irregular, but all that ended when Jisung shamelessly opened the door.

"Hey guys, who's awake already? Does anyone wanna watch a movie?" he asked no one in particular, Minho's movement stopped and his arm quickly moved to wrap around your waist, his head fell against his pillow and you closed your eyes again to pretend to still be asleep. It was almost as if nothing between the two of you had happened, which would actually seem like it were true if both your hearts weren't racing from almost being caught.

You heard movement from the other side of the room, you recognized Hyunjin's steps passing through the door accompanied with a humm and later Seungmin's voice was heard, answering Jisung who was still standing by the entrance.

"I'm kinda hungry. I'll join if we order something to eat" he said, the sound of feet against the floor letting you know he was ready to leave the room.

"Sure, let's try to convince Chan to pay," Jisung responded, waiting for Seungmin to walk with him to the living room, but when Seungmin reached him, Jisung didn't move. "Shouldn't we wake Minho and ask him if he wants something as well?"

"Nah, he stayed up the whole flight I think, and besides, he's with Y/N. Let's order something for them and let them sleep," Seungmin said, his tired voice making it clear that he didn't want to deal with trying to wake Minho up.

The answer seemed to be enough for Jisung, and the two of them left, closing the door behind them. Just then, you allowed yourself to sigh in relief.

Next to you, Minho rolled on his side, his back now at you making you confused. "What are you doing?" you asked.

"You heard them, they think we're asleep, so we might go back to sleep again, don't you think?" he responded, his tone still low. You whined, hugging his whole body as best as you could, your mouth reaching his ear to whisper to him:

"But I'm so wet… are you really going back to sleep and leave me like this?" you cried to him, you knew he could feel you putting on the tone of voice you decided to use, but he didn't say anything, so you tried your luck again.

"Please, if you're not going to fuck me at least finger me, I've missed you so much… I've been waiting for you to use me for so long" you continued, begging with a low voice and pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, starting a trail of kisses down all the uncovered skin you could see, high diving yourself in your mind when you felt him shiver under your touch.

Minho finally sighed, giving in and turning so now he would be facing you, your eyes almost shone when his right hand went to your hip and his face got closer to yours to steal a passionate kiss that you now would end up making you feel like the world was spinning.

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips when both of you tried to recuperate your normal breathing, drawing a raised eyebrow from your boyfriend. You simply took his face with both of your hands and started kissing him again, suddenly one of your hands leaving his cheek to guide the hand resting on your hip to where you needed him most. If he noticed, he had been nice enough to not say anything.

Or that's what you thought, because then he broke the kiss and growled quietly, his fingers playing with the button of your jeans until he was able to open them and he wasted no more time, his slender digit slipping past your underwear and feeling all the wetness between your legs.

"Oh, Y/N, you're so fucking wet, kitten" he muttered. His hand moved away from where you wanted it to be, making you complain and furrow your eyebrows while he showed you his glistening finger before guiding it to your lips for you to lick it clean yourself. Minho rolled his eyes when you grabbed his hand and made it touch you again, you didn't care how needy you seemed, everything you could think of was how much you'd love for him to rail you.

His fingers started working on you, slowly caressing your clit and gathering your essence before he entered you, making you sigh. He was staring at you, silently admiring your features that showed just how good he was making you feel. You weren't looking at him, your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the way he was making you feel, but you didn't need to see him to know how much he was grinning, proud to have you biting your lip to not moan too loud. At some point your breathing got heavier and your legs started to tremble, the last signal meaning that you were close was when your walls embraced his fingers, your mouth opened as you found home in the ecstasy-like sensation, Minho tried to prolong it by over stimulating you.

After a moment, he finally removed his fingers from your inside and licked it clean from your juices while you recovered.

"Was that better?" he asked, gaining a humming from you as an answer.

"It was good, but I still want you to fuck me" you finally said, pouting. He opened his eyes wide, as if he was actually surprised, and said:

"You're so greedy, my needy baby wants something else besides my fingers, huh? Go clean yourself and let's go to your house then. I'll give you the best welcome back fuck of your life" he kissed your forehead, waiting for you to stand up after you heard what he said.

"Really?" you asked, full of hope. He nodded, and you almost jumped from the bed to run to the bathroom, standing in front of the door fixing your jeans before walking out the room, remembering that you weren't alone.

You made your way silently to the bathroom, saving your hand at Jeongin who apparently had gone to his room for something and happened to find you on his journey to go back to the living room. He seemed tired, as if he hadn't fully tested, but his memory worked just fine because before you entered the bathroom he told you that they were going to watch a movie and had called for some takeout food for everyone. You thanked him and got inside to do what you had to do.

An hour later, you found yourself cuddling Mingo on the only individual couch after eating and watching a comedy with the rest of the members. Some were on their phone, some still eating and others were cuddling just like you were. It was a relaxed night, and you were having a good time, but the words Minho had told you earlier resonated in your head and your pussy was louder than your heart, screaming at you to act out and make Minho take you home to complete his promise.

Covered with a blanket, your hand snaked down his form and entered his joggers, feeling up his cock. You weren't looking at him to know his reaction, but he quickly squeezed you as a warning to not continue your devilish plans.

You didn't care, continuing to tease him until he got hard enough and that's when you pressed yourself against him. He sighed, but pushed himself against you almost as if encouraging you to keep going.

"Stop, Y/N. We'll leave after the movie is over" he whispered, trying to get you to reason with him.

The answer he got was you pulling his joggers and boxers down with one hand carefully, freeing his hardened cock from its prison and wrapping your hand around him, making him hiss. One of his hands went to your neck, pulling your head back to tell you one last thing.

“Kitten, if you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat when we get to your house" he murmured, quiet enough for you to listen to his words only.

If you were going to be punished, you might as well continue what you started.

Minho's hold on you tightened when he realized that you had set your mind on torturing him, you knew the risk of possibly getting caught was high and that it made everything way more exciting, but all your tries at being subtle and not drag any attention to the both of you were affecting him horribly. He hated how you ceased all movement when someone shifted or how you tensed when everyone stopped talking was like pure hell for Minho.

His cock twitched, and he faked a yawn to hide the noise that came out of him. You took advantage of it, and played along with it.

"Oh, you're still tired? We should go back to your room so you can sleep, don't you think?" you whispered, long enough for the rest of the members to hear.

Minho caught up with what you were doing, faking another yawn and hugging your body as if you were a plushie. He nodded, and you fixed his clothes quickly so the two of you could stand up.

Minho had other plans, and stood up with you in his arms, the blanket covering his boner. Everyone's eyes were on you two, so you said goodnight and entered the shared room again. Once inside, he didn't even turn the light on, walking straight to the bed after closing the door and dropping you there.

"I can't believe you're making me break Chan's 'no fucking in the dorms' rule" he said, taking his shirt off. You laughed, starting to undress as well.

"As if you really cared about rules" you said, opening your arms for him when you and him were finally fully naked.

"You're right, I only care about you and fucking you. You'll get your punishment later" he replied, hovering over you and positioning his member at your entrance, pressing your foreheads together as he slowly entered you. He kissed you before he started slamming into you, trying to maintain your moans to a minimum so the whole 'going to sleep' act could still be believable to your friends.

With your arms thrown around his neck and your legs hugging his waist, you felt the happiest, like you were in heaven. Finally, Minho was filling you with his cock, making you feel like he was the missing piece in your life that left a hole in your constant day to day with his sole absence, but now he was back, fucking you, kissing you; loving you, and it made your head and your heart swim with happiness, because he was back and you would have him like before he left.

He was thrusting you carefully, slowly but not too much to make you feel bored or annoy you, it was almost the right speed to make the moment last longer, a try to be more passionate with you. Minho's grunts and your heavy breathing were all you cared about, you forgot about everything outside the door, but the way your reasonable side made you moan quietly still brought a sense of reality to you, you whimpered and opened your mouth to exhale, his own breathing on your face making you open your eyes to look at him while he kept working, rocking his hips against yours and trying to make you cum for the second time of the day.

"I love you" you told him quietly, looking up at his sweaty face and pulling him in by his neck to kiss him lovingly like you meant to do when you saw him coming out of the plane.

Minho smiled against your lips, allowing his weight to fall on you and support himself on his left elbow, using his right hand to caress your cheek and move a strand of your hair that had gotten on your face so he could admire you better. When he finished the kiss, you thought he would return to the old position, supporting himself with both arms, but he didn't and instead he started kissing your whole face, making you giggle and close your eyes, with each kiss he left on your face you could say he tried to speed up to finally make you reach your well deserved orgasm, everything in that moment felt so intimate, and the addition of the kisses on your face and him gently cupping your cheek let you know this wasn't simple fucking anymore.

You would make a disgusted face at how cheesy it sounded, but in that very moment you couldn't describe the intimate activity as anything else than love making.

It wouldn't be the first time that Minho treats you as gentle as this, but something… felt different. You couldn't quite tell what it was, maybe because it had been months since you were with him, or because you missed him so much, but the ambient felt more mature in the aspect that you knew that his sweet whispers praising you and reminding you that he loved you as well and that you meant so much to him were not just words.

You wanted to cry, but you knew this wasn't the moment, your quiet moans mixed with giggles and adoring smiles disappeared when the new hard thrusting made your walls tighten around Minho's cock, and without any advice you came. You knew that there was a high percentage that the boys already knew what the two of you were up to thanks to the cracking of the bed and the specific noise of skin slapping sounds, but you still wanted to try and drown your moans to simulate that you were sleeping.

"Ah, baby…" Minho grunted, his face hiding in the crook of your neck to then whisper to you "I'm gonna cum…" followed by the twitching of his cock inside you.

"C-cum inside me, fill me up" you said back, your broken voice and tucked out features when he moved to see you being all he needed to release his seed inside you.

The warm sensation of his semen flowing in you made you smile, and your panting boyfriend pulled out of you to take the tissues box he hid under his bed for all occasions.

You looked at him when he kneeled in front of you to clean you, knowing how tired he actually was by the way his eyes were closing, and you appreciated how he still worried to clean you and not let you all sticky, very sweet of him.

The two of you dressed up lazily, this time laying in bed to sleep like you had said that you would do some time ago.

"I'm so happy you're back, I really missed you" you whispered, your hand resting flat on his chest as you listened to his heart beating under you.

"I'm glad to be back as well, kitten. I thought I would go crazy if I spent more days without seeing you" he joked, patting your head with his hand.

"Let's not think about it now, I had a hard time without cumming when you weren't here" he laughed at your words responding by squeezing you a bit.

"Well, if you're going to be this needy every time I come back, I don't mind leaving you as much" he said back, tone so serious that it scared you.

"You're not being serious, right?" you moved, looking at his face. He had his eyes closed, but the faint shadow of a smile creeping on his lips. He opened them to look at you before he answered you.

"Of course not, kitten. The last thing I want is to be away from you, it's so hard to be far from you when I love you this much" he finally said, making you sigh in relief and your heart throb inside your chest.

"It's not my fault that you love me so much, you're only guilty for making me love you so bad" you smiled, going back to resting on his chest.

"Shhh, you know, that I'm the best that's happened in your life, but we can talk about how awesome I am later, now sleep. I promise I'll be here when you wake up" he moved, shifting to press a kiss on your forehead.

"I hope so, you promised me the fuck of my life when we go to my house and I can't wait for that" you laughed, poking his side.

"We'll see when tomorrow comes, but sleep first. Good night, baby, I love you."

#skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #lee know smut #lee know x reader #skz lee know smut #lee know x you #minho smut #minho x reader #skz minho smut #skz minho #original content #mine #by me #scheduled post

[catxsnow]

LOST IN YESTERDAY J.T.

Request: Hi! The realisation that your requests are open are just the serotonin hit I needed while recovering from surgery! I'm a sucker for fluff, so if you don't mind I'd love to steal some from you. Could I please have Jason attending a Wayne Gala masquerade and falling in love with a person, only to not know their identity? Later, at another gala, he remeets them and figures out it was someone he used to live on the streets with. Does this make sense? I hope so; I love your writing. Tell me if not ♥

Warning: swearing, mentions of blood, alcoholic beverages being consumed

A/N: forever will be naming fics after Tame Impala songs and no one can stop me. Link to get on my taglist is at the bottom of this fic. 

Word count: 3,5k

Everyone knew that Jason hated the Gala's that Bruce held. The non-stop complaining that came from him occurred every time that it was brought up. Tim got annoyed, Dick was frustrated, Damian was threatening to punch Jason if he spoke another word about it. They were all tired of his antics.

Nonetheless, he went to these events - especially when there was an open bar. Jason spent his time avoiding people and (occasionally) hitting on some of the beautiful women that looked his way. It was easy to hold up the "son of a playboy act" even if he didn't care about any of the people he talked to.

To feel even more ridiculous, Bruce hosted a masquerade ball. Jason hated them to begin with, but to have a room full of strangers in masks, in Gotham? Bruce knew better, but it was what his company wanted. At least with Batman and every Robin that there was there, the people would be safe.

Jason took a sip out of the glass he was holding. Ice and whiskey sloshed around in it before meeting his lips. He leaned against the counter of the bar, eyes glazing over the crowd and not looking for anyone in particular. A red mask covered half his face. Gold decor lined around his eyes that matched the tie he was wearing.

There were a dozen other things that he could have been doing that night. Taking down criminals, getting one step closer to taking down the current biggest drug lord in town, hell he could have been saving a kitten from a tree and he would have been more content. Instead, he was stuck in a room full of rich people who couldn't care less about the people of Gotham.

Jason raised his glass to the bartender, indicating another drink. "Make that two more," a voice spoke beside him. They wore a mask similar to Jason's with the exception of silver. All black attire. Lack of a smile until looking over at him. "You looked lonely standing over here."

"That was kind of the point," Jason told them. Sarcasm was heavy in his voice, though it didn't seem to bother them. The bartender set both drinks in front of them. The stranger knocked the whiskey back in one go. Jason raised his eyebrows, shocked by the behaviour of someone attending an infamous Wayne Gala.

"(Y/N)," they stuck their hand out for him to shake. He accepted, still hesitant on what to think about this person. "What's someone like you doing at an event like this?"

"Someone like me?" Jason raised an eyebrow, though it couldn't be seen through the mask. This person clearly didn't know who he was or a thing about him. He was skeptical enough on how they were that quick to pick up on his lack of enthusiasm for being there, particularly hidden behind a mask.

Nonetheless, his curiosity piqued about them.

There was something about this person that made him feel nostalgic. Back before he was the son of Bruce Wayne and everyone knew his face, before he died, hell before he was Robin. Jason didn't get that feeling very often, but he enjoyed it all the same. For that reason alone he would entertain the idea of this person.

"Tense shoulders, wandering eyes, you don't wanna be here," they pointed out to him. He could see their face scrunch up with concentration, trying to figure out exactly where those beautiful blue eyes were from. "So why stay? Or more Importantly why come at all?"

"Call it a requirement," Jason vaguely replied.  He didn't know who this person was or why they were so interested in his reason for being there, but it was starting to get on his nerves. Sure, he was curious about her - but there was nothing more frustrating than someone trying to force a conversation.

Jason adjusted the uncomfortable mask that sat on the bridge of his nose. For someone who wore a mask half their life, he despised the one that he had on. The glitter and sequence dug into his skin and he wished for nothing more than to be able to wear the domino mask he usually had on instead.

Then again, he'd rather be anywhere else but there.

"Care to dance, Jason?" His whole body froze out the sound of his name. Sure, he was recognizable as a Wayne son, but the stranger spoke it so smoothly like they had said it a thousand times - as if they had known him. He didn't like the tone in their voice or the smile on their face as they spoke his name.

They noticed how he tensed - just as he noticed the devious smirk on their lips because of his reaction. He tried so hard to think about who this person was and what they wanted out of him. Money? Murder? Was it an old enemy of his that returned from the grave? He couldn't figure it out.

A song that Jason had grown up to, one that Bruce had gotten him to elegantly learn to dance to, began playing. As much as his mind was telling him to get out of there, to figure out what this person wanted, he offered a hand to them instead. His muscles were tense, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Jason effortlessly guided them through the dance floor. One hand rested on the small of their back, the other clasping theirs. Their bodies were flush together as they swayed to the music. Jason's eyes swept the dance floor but he could feel the gaze of the stranger's eyes on him.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" He asked suddenly.

"You're supposed to be the smart one," they remarked. Jason bit his tongue. He could have easily caused a scene, forced the name out of this person through intimidation but he knew he couldn't. Bruce would have a fit if he did anything out of line - especially anything related to being the Red Hood.

He didn't like being at a disadvantage, in fact, if there was one thing he despised it was just that. There was nothing worse than an enemy - or potential enemy- being two steps ahead of him. This person knew things about him, too many things for someone hiding behind a mask and too afraid to show their face.

Jason suddenly dipped the person, hoping to catch them off guard. The stranger was just as quick as him. They latched onto his shoulders, daring to go even lower than he had already dipped them. Their closeness had Jason completely allured by the fragrance rolling off of them. He felt himself get comfortable around them, just for a moment.

Quickly, he pulled them back up. A smile rested on their face like he had done exactly what they had wanted him to.

They pressed themselves into Jason. Hand going from his shoulder to the back of his neck. He felt a shiver run down his spine from her touch, cool hands making his baby hair stand prominent. They pressed into his skin, guiding him to lower his lips to just inches away from their own.

A sudden wave of trust filled him. He found himself wanting to lean in more until there was no space between. Before he succumbed to these desires, he sharply pulled away. The mystery person was twirled out of his chest, an arms-length apart and only held together by their fingertips.

Jason pressed his mask farther up his face as it slipped down. He pulled them back in, this time making sure to keep their hands nowhere near his bare skin.

As soon as the song was over, Jason broke apart from the mystery person. His eyes darted towards the exit. If they weren't going to leave, then he was. Jason had been there long enough to make Bruce happy and now it was time to get onto his evening with more important things.

"It was nice seeing you, Jason," The person reached up to leave a delicate kiss on his cheek. He wanted to pull away before they could connect with his skin but he was frozen to his spot. They winked at him once more from under their mask before leaving him alone on the dance floor.

He didn't know who it was, but he sure as hell was going to find out.

><

Bruce was surprised to see Jason come so willingly to a gala - especially considering that he had gone to one barely even a month ago. The gala that evening had been an extremely last minute but WE considered it necessary. So, Bruce reluctantly decided to host yet another, and Jason was on the ball to be willing to attend.

What the great Batman didn't know, was that Jason's detective work when trying to find who this mystery person was, completely failed. He couldn't find a single thing about them. They weren't on the guest list, facial recognition couldn't get a good picture of them, and he was running out of clues.

Jason was dying to know who this was and what they wanted with him to the point that he would gladly put on another suit and tie to discover the truth. Then again, it was a long shot to see if they were going to attend as well. Considering that they had just snuck in the first time, he was really pulling a hail mary that she was going to do the same again.

The most frustrating part was that this whole time he had been living on the edge. What if this person was trying to kill him? What if they had found a way to outsmart him and get to him with ease? It was agitating that he couldn't figure out how to get ahead of whoever was after him. If they were after him.

Bruce instilled it in him to be paranoid. Maybe this was just someone that knew him for being the son of Bruce Wayne or had seen him around town before. He couldn't be sure that they were even after him. Nonetheless, it was time to put an end to this relentless suffering on his own behalf.

Once again, Jason found himself planted at the open bar Bruce provided for his guests. This time, however, he was far more alert than he was last time. He could see everything happening behind him with the mirror behind the bar, his peripherals were wide open - no one could sneak up to him.

At least he thought so.

Dressed in all black, hair styled differently than the last time that he had seen them, they had sat beside him. A glass of champagne swirled around in their hands. Jason looked at them in the mirror in front of them both. Striking eyes stared back at him, a playful smirk on their face at the idea of leaving him wondering.

"You sneak in again?" Jason asked, taking a sip of his own drink. They shrugged, though the answer was clearly a yes. They leaned against the edge of the bar and faced him. It was surprising that he hadn't put the pieces together yet - usually, he was faster than this. Jason hesitated before mimicking her.

They were stunning, he could admit that.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, getting straight to the point. He was tired of being tense because of them. "How do you know me?"

They chuckled. As frustrating as it was for him - they had no idea how paranoid he really was. They didn't know about his life as Red Hood or that he was raised by Batman. They knew him as Jason Todd, the kid that persevered through everything, the kid that was lucky enough to be taken in by Bruce Wayne.

They reached out to his arm. Before they could even get close, Jason grabbed their wrist with a deathly tight grip. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Jason," They spoke calmly as if this had happened before. Hesitantly, he let go of their wrist. Gently, they pushed back the suit jacket sleeve he wore to expose his forearm.

His skin was always laced with scars and bruises - even more so since the last time that they had seen him. However, there was one thick, faint scar on his wrist that wasn't from being the Red Hood or Robin. It was from when he was a kid - a stupid accident that left him bleeding and crying.

Jason froze as the tip of their finger ran over the scar. He had gotten so many over the years that he had forgotten where most of them were from. This one, this was one of the first ones that he had gotten. One that he remembered clear as day. For this stranger to randomly pick one scar out of the dozens on his body that weren't from being a hero - it was slim. They would have had to know about it.

"It's fine, it was an accident."

"Jason! You're bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital!" Their voice was higher back then. Filled with worry and fear about the small cut that he had gotten. Jason was trying to be brave, to be strong for them. He knew how they didn't like to see him hurt in any way, especially when it had been their fault.

It was an accident. He wasn't mad, not at them. Never at them. However, the deep cut stung and he could barely stop the tears in his eyes from the pain. Maybe he did need a hospital, however, he knew he couldn't afford it - not for something that he could Maytag himself at home.

"I'm fine," Jason scowled. The cloth wrapped around his arm was becoming stained dark red. They had far more tears on their face than he had. Guilt, worry, all feelings that a kid shouldn't have run through them. Jason sighed, trying to compose himself before speaking again. "It's not your fault (Y/N). It's okay, I'm okay."

"But-"

"But nothing," Jason cut them off. "Accidents happen. Remember just last week I pushed into you and you scraped your knee. Did you blame me?" They shook their head. OF course not, they were running together when they finally stopped and Jason hadn't noticed in time. It wasn't his fault - it was theirs. Just like how this time it was his fault for not watching out. "Exactly. I gotta go home to try and fix this."

"At least let me come home with you to make sure you're alright?" They asked, wiping the salty tears off their cheeks. Jason nodded. (Y/N) was always the one to worry about him.

"What would I do without you (Y/N)?" Jason tried to heighten their mood. The boyish smile that they loved was on his face.

"I don't ever want to find out Jason Todd."

But they did. (Y/N) did have to find out what it was like to live without Jason. It was a couple of years after that incident did Catherine die, his father gone. Bruce Wayne took him in as his new ward and (Y/N) was completely forgotten about. They couldn't blame him, not really. Not when the life of his dreams was handed to him.

They always pictured Jason being happy in that big mansion. He'd get everything that he'd ever wanted, everything that they talked about as kids. He could go to a good school, use his big brains to go to college. Jason must have been happy living with Bruce, that was the only reason that he would have forgotten about his old life.

That was far from the truth.

"(Y/N)," Jason breathed out. He felt like a fool for not realizing this sooner. (Y/N) had been his closet friend growing up. They did everything together - getting away from home, being kids through all their hardships. They were inseparable until he fell off the face of the earth. Until Bruce took him in and he had to push himself away from everybody to keep them safe.

"You're getting slow with your old age," They joked. (Y/N) dropped his wrist and returned to their drink. It had to have been close to a decade since they had seen each other. Jason was far bigger than he was as a kid and it made him almost unrecognizable. "White hair and all, I guess being rich aged you."

"You..." Jason lost all trail of thought. He couldn't believe that it was really them sitting in front of him. More stunning than ever. They loved seeing him stuttering over himself, flustered that after all these years he realized that he never came back. Mostly, it was nice to see him with his cheeks flushed for the first time since they had known each other.

"It's okay Jay," They took another sip of their drink. "I figured living the high life as a Wayne would dull your street skills. I never expected you to recognize me last month." (Y/N) had gotten far more confident over the years. Never would they have acted like this when they were kids.

They were nowhere near the truth, but they were still right. He felt like a damn fool for not being to recognize them through a stupid masquerade mask. Jason stuttered out a few words before giving up altogether. He had so many things that he wanted to ask about, or even just to catch up. Instead, he just remained a flustered mess.

(Y/N) stood up from the bar stool. They leaned in to Jason, planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. He felt a warmth spread through his body, just like the last time they had kissed him.

"Keep an eye out, Jason. I'll be seeing you soon."  

"Wait," Jason grabbed onto their wrist before they could make a step out. (Y/N) looked down to him. The large man suddenly looked small with those big, pitiful eyes. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry that I never came back for you. I wish I would have, I wish I wouldn't have been so selfish."

(Y/N) sighed. They sat back down in the chair that they once occupied. Jason looked pleased with the decision, though even more fear ran through him at the moment. What did he have to say that would make everything right? Why would they show back up now?

"You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong," there was sincerity in their voice. Jason was no longer the bold and brave that everyone knew him as. He was brought back to his childhood in a single moment and reminded of just how vulnerable he could be. "I'm here... I'm here because I saw you in the paper a while ago... I thought you died, Jason."

I did.

All he could hear was the worry in their voice. The worry that he had died and they never got to see them again. Never got to relieve their childhood just one more time, or tell him how far he got in their life. (Y/N) was scared that they would never get to tell him that they did everything that they promised as a kid.

He nearly lost his guard for a moment. The boyish grin that he had learned to fake from Bruce spread across his face. He gestured to himself, "as you can see I'm clearly not dead." Except he had been. Except that paper had been right and they had every right to be worried about him dying. Just as it had happened once, it would surely happen again.

(Y/N) (L/N), someone who hadn't seen Jason in years, worried to death about a rumour that spread in town. His heart ached for the first time in a long time.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Jason suddenly blurted out. "I hate these stupid galas, and I don't know about you but I'm starving." To be honest, he didn't care about where they went, he just didn't want to be under the watchful eyes of the public for such a vulnerable moment.

(Y/N)'s lips turned up at his words. "You paying, rich boy?"

"As long as you let me make up for all these years," he countered. If they wanted to, Jason fully intended to bring (Y/N) back into his life. He never realized this empty hole in his heard had been because of them. His whole childhood revolved around their times together. He craved that again.

"You drive a hard bargain." (Y/N) stuck their hand out for Jason to shake. He accepted it gladly. "You've got a deal Jason Todd. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

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[stoney-siren]

May I Have This Dance? PART 2 (Sal Fisher x Reader)

 Link to Part 1 

Summary: After you confront Ash on your crush on Sal, she takes you to some friends who she believes to have good advice on what you should do. Meanwhile Sal is trying to work up the courage to asking you out.

Warnings: Swearing, possible mentions of drug use, slight angst?

It had been a few days after your conversation with Ashley, that day she had taken you to go meet up with Maple and Chug, who were somehow excellent advice givers. Not only that, but they knew how to keep a secret too, you weren’t too trustful of them at first, but after a couple of days with their lips sealed, you started to trust them a bit more.

So there you were sitting in your apartment with Ash, your mom was out getting groceries, so it gave you two some time to try and plan out how to ask Sal to the prom. Little did you two know that Larry and Sal were doing the exact same thing on the fourth floor in Sals room.

“I was thinking of either wearing this purple dress I have, or a green one.” Ash commented as she messed with her polaroid camera.

“I think the purple would really compliment your eyes.” Ash smiled at your feedback and nodded her head in agreement.

“What do you think Larry, Todd, and Sal are doing?” She questioned, getting up and sitting beside you at your desk and taking a look at what you were writing.

You have been spending almost the whole day writing down ideas on how to ask out Sal, but everything that came to mind just sounded either cheesy, dumb, or both.

“Probably playing some video game on Sals gear boy.” You responded, sitting next to Sal and watching over his shoulder as he attempted to beat a video game was one of your favorite things to do, you found it adorable how he celebrated every time he beat a level.

“Speaking of Sal, these ideas of yours are starting to get pretty creative!” Ash took the paper you had been scribbling on from the desk and started to read what you had been writing. 

Quickly, you snatched the paper back, even though you appreciated the compliment, you couldn’t help but imagine every way Sal could turn down every idea you came up with.

Sal stood in front of a mirror in Larrys room, messing with his hair and thinking of how he’d style it for prom.

“You should do a bun, I heard a lot of people find those attractive.” Larry commented from somewhere in the room, he himself was occupying his time with a painting he was working on.

“Nah dude.” He let his hair fall to his shoulders as he removed his pigtails, messing with the blue strands in his face.

“They’ll probably like your hair regardless what it looks like! If you wanna go with something mature then maybe you should just wear your hair down.” He continued to suggest from his easel.

“Yeah maybe,” he began, touching his prosthetic. “Larry, what if I want to kiss them?” That caught his attention real fast.

“Then do it bro! Nothings holding you back, unless of course they don’t want to.” He set his brush down and made his way over to the mirror, putting his hands on Sals shoulders.

“Yeah but.. They’ve never seen me without my prosthetic before, what if I scare them?” This was Sals usual nervous thoughts, always afraid of how his appearance would affect others.

“You’re not gonna scare them, trust me. You know (Y/N) better than that, they’ve gotta be the most kindest, and accepting person we know!” Larry tried to reassure his friend as Sal lowered his hand from his prosthetic, turning his gaze to his feet.

“I guess.” Deep down he knew Larry was right, but all the anxiety pent up inside just wouldn’t budge. 

“The dance is in two days, you still have time to think of what you want to say to them.” And that’s all Sal thought of for the next two days, practicing in the mirror, even asking his dad for advice, which ended horribly since Henry was more proud of the fact that Sal wanted to ask someone out rather than giving him advice.

“Mom, I have to get going soon.” You tried to exclaim as your mother snapped another photo of you in your prom dress, part of you was feeling disappointed that you never got to ask Sal to the dance, but he had been avoiding you for the past few days now. 

In fact, you actually started to grow worried that somebody might’ve told Sal about your little crush on him, your bets were on Chug. You could see him somehow spilling the beans on accident and then immediately trying to take it back and playing it off as a joke.

“Oh just one more photo!” Your mother cheered, snapping you from your thoughts, but before your mother could continue on with her photo shoot, there was a knock at the door.

“Those are my friends, can I go now?” You asked in a more harsh tone, trying to hint that you were getting impatient. Honestly, your mother could probably fill a whole scrap book with the amount of photos she had taken of you.

“Oh, fine! Maybe I could get a picture with you and your friends though?” She attempted one last time to get a few more pictures out of you.

“Mom!” You whined as you stepped over to the door, opening it to see your dear friends, Larry, Ash, and Sal.

“Heya (Y/N)!” Ash chirpped, she was wearing that purple dress that she spoke of a couple days ago. Larry and Sal were both in suits, and even though Sal still wore that blank prosthetic mask, he looked nervous for some reason.

“Hey (Y/N), y- you look nice.” Sal spoke, and wanted to punch himself for stuttering. Larry nudged Sal lightly and did his best not to burst into laughter right there.

“Thanks Sal! You look lovely too, are we ready to go? Where’s Todd.” You questioned, looking around for that brainy friend of yours.

“He’s helping Chug out with his outfit, he’s kinda nervous since he wants to ask Maple out.” It was Sals turn to nudge Larry back and give him a look from behind his prosthetic.

“Dude! We weren’t supposed to tell anyone!” Ashley and you both laughed a little, and honestly it was because you both knew Chug liked Maple from the start.

“Trust us, our lips are sealed!” You commented, stepping out of her apartment and waving your mom behind before closing the door before she could come attack you four with her camera.

You and the others stepped out of the building into the night, Larry pulled some car keys out of his pocket and unlocked Lisa’s car, which wasn’t far.

“We’re taking your moms car? Please tell me she’s okay with this.” You asked Larry, he only laughed and patted your shoulder.

“Yeah, she’s completely chill with me using her car tonight as long as I don’t wreck it! Only problem is that one of the seats is unavailable, and there’s six of us.” Larry explained.

“I call shot gun then!” Ash shouted as she rushed to the car in heels, it amazed me how fast she could run in those, even if they weren’t that high.

Chug and Todd had made their way out of the apartment just as Ash got to the car, you could now see what Larry was talking about when he said Chug was nervous. The poor guy was sweating bullets.

“Two people are gonna have to sit in the trunk.” Larry continued to explain, and Todd immediately spoke up.

“Chug can’t sit in the trunk, this nervous wreck will throw up all over Lisa’s car.” Chug tried to protest, claiming he wasn’t nervous, but it was clear to everyone that he was.

“I don’t mind sitting in the trunk.” Sal finally spoke, he seemed less nervous than before has he proceeded towards the car.

“Well then it’s settled I guess, (Y/N) and Sal will sit in the trunk, Todd and Chug will sit in the back, and Ash and I will sit in the front!” Before you could even try and argue with him, Larry was following Sal to the car with Chug and Todd close behind.

Why would you even try to fight with him on this? Being stuck in a small space with Sal Fisher? It was the perfect moment to try and make a move, you supposed you just didn’t want the others to overhear you, or end up having Ash tease the both of you.

“So you decided to join me?” Sal joked as you climbed into the trunk and laughed.

“Guess so!” You sat beside him as Larry closed the trunk and got into the drivers seat, starting the car and putting on some heavy metal music. Nobody really seemed to complain since he was giving everyone a ride.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N)?” He continued to conversation as the car was too noisy for anyone else to hear the two of you.

“Fine I guess, a bit nervous.” He seemed to relate to that as he nodded and stared up at the ceiling of the car, the both of you sat side by side, with your hands dangerously close. His nails were painted black, his hand looked so soft and holdable.

“What are you so nervous about? We’re gonna have fun tonight.” He stated that with enough confidence that it almost felt like a fact.

Silence fell between the two of you as Larry’s metal music started to overtake the car, the sound of Todd reassuring Chug mixed into the ambiance of the car. Slowly, just ever so slowly, your hand creeped closer to Sals, your mind raced with thoughts both positive and negative, what if he pulled away? What if he held your hand? Before your hand could even touch his, Larry took a tight turn, and Sals body crashed into yours.

“Larry!” You could hear Ash yell from the front of the car, your head hit the floor of the trunk rather roughly.

“What!” Larry cackled as he continued to drive the car, the pain in your head instantly faded when you made eye contact with the blue haired boy on top of you in a rather intimate position.

“U- Uh- I- I’m so- so sorry (Y/N)!” He immediately sat up and pulled himself off you as you sat up yourself. Before you could try and say anything, Larry took another tight turn and this time you fell against Sals chest, his back colliding with the side of the trunk.

“Larry! Sal and (Y/N) are in the trunk without seatbelts! Could you be a bit more gentle on those turns!?” Todd spoke up this time, you were just praying he wouldn’t turn back and take a look at the two of you, now smushed together.

“S- Sal I’m sorry!” You could feel your face practically about to burst into flames as you tried to pull yourself up, and his hand wrapped around your wrist to help support you.

“I- It’s okay, it’s neither of our faults, just Larry’s reckless driving.” He chuckled off the tension between the two of you as the car started to come to a halt. Todd turned back in his seat as Chug exited the car.

“Hey, we’re here.” He stated bluntly before leaving the car. Larry opened the trunk for the two of you as the both of you climbed out, Sal gave Larry a punch on the shoulder.

With that, most of your friends vanished into the crowd of students you have known for a while, you stuck close to Larry and Sal though as you made your way into the schools gym, which was now decorated surprisngly nicely by your peers. Students were dancing, chatting, and overall having a nice time.

“Hey, hey (Y/N)!” Ash shouted over the music, she looked relieved that she finally found you. It had been almost an hour into prom, and you have just been standing to the side and dancing to some of your favorite songs. Maple had came by a few times to ask you about the Sal situation, but you didn’t have much to say to her. You just didn’t know how to approach him after that moment in the car.

“Yeah Ash?” You responded to her, you knew your voice was gonna be a bit soar after tonight, but who cared?

“I got the DJ to play a slow song after this one! You need to go find Sal!” Ash yelled to you, instantly your face heated back up almost similar to that moment in the car.

“Why would you do that!?” Now beginning to panic, Ash took you by the shoulders and looked you in the eyes.

“Because the both of you need to just get your shit together and dance!” And with that she pushed you off into the crowd to go find Sal.

Instead of finding Sal, you found Travis Phelps, school bully and your friend groups worst enemy. You couldn’t help but sometimes feel bad for the guy though, since you heard his dad was a preacher and he was always looking a little beat up. Travis gave you a disgusted look.

“Oh, it’s you, I overheard you and that bitch.” He sneered, you wanted to defend Ashley, but he went on. “Do you really think that freaks gonna wanna dance with you?” 

“Shut up Travis, all you ever do is pick on us, I don’t understand what we did to deserve your cruelty!” You replied, clearly upsetted by his comment.

“Whatever, can’t wait to hear all about how Sally Face rejected you tonight!” His final remark made your heart sink, as you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Sal was standing there with Larry close behind, looking ready to beat the crap out of Travis.

Waves of embarrassment washed over you as Sal just seemed to blankly stare at you, was Travis right? Did he really not like you like that? You didn’t want to think about it, you did the only thing you could think of, which was to run away from the three of them and escape to the outside of the school. 

You hated Travis for doing that to you, he let everything you worked so hard on just slip out right in front of Sal. Hot tears filled your eyes as you collapsed to your knees, attempting to frantically wipe your tears.

“Stupid, stupid..” You mumbled, the music from the gym had made its way outside the building now muffled though and more quiet, you always hated how loud school gatherings would play their music. As you attempted to contain yourself, you heard the door you exited from open and close, and a soft and gentle voice call out to you.

“(Y/N)?” Sal called, the sound of his shoes against the concrete floor rang in your ears as you lifted your head.

“Sal.. I’m sorry. I..” You were lost for words, what were you suppoed to tell him? Try and lie? Tell the truth? You soon snapped out of it again as you heard slow music begin to play from inside the gym, and Sal offered his hand out to you a bit hesitantly.

“(Y/N), may I have this dance?” Your heart sank as you quickly took his hand, he pulled you onto your feet and wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping his other hand entangled with yours.

The both of you were so close that you could hear him softly breathe against his prosthetic, your heartbeats were almost in sinc as he began to lead you passively with the song. His eyes remained on yours, and yours remained on his.

“Sal,” you began, he was all ears, “Do you like me?” He lightly laughed at your comment, which made you a bit nervous until he responded.

“(Y/N), I’ve had a crush on you for like, three years. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this since forever.” He spoke softly, you never knew that he could be this romantic, it made your heart just want to burst from your chest.

The song eventually ended, but Sal continued to hold you, slowly he untangled his hand with yours and touched the bottom of his prosthetic. You had always silently theorized what Sal may have looked like under his prosthetic, so excitement overcame you as Sal slowly lifted his prosthetic off his face.

“You’re.. A work of art.” The compliment escaped your lips before you could even process them, his cheeks grew deep red as he sheepishly smiled.

“Thank you, (Y/N), would you.. Or.. Could I um.. Kiss you?” He softly asked, of course you responded with a nod before pulling him into a light kiss. Sal instantly dropped his prosthetic and carressed the side of your face with his now free hand, you wrapped both your arms around his neck as he kissed you back lovingly and passionately.

When the two of you separated, you both were blushing messes, and lost for words. Your moment was at and end when you heard Larry open the door and call out for you two, Sal took your hand and gave you a caring smile.

“We should head back now, okay? Enjoy the rest of the night.” 

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read this :) if you want more Sally Face content lmk! 

#sally face #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #larry johnson #ashley campbell #todd morrison

[fallen-in-dreams]

Mon Amant

Also on AO3. Pairing: Sakura/Kakashi. Summary: She wasn't a fantasy to him. She wasn't a wet dream. She was the real thing. For KakaSaku Month 2021. Post-war. *Mon Amant - my lover* Prompt: (Week 2, Day 4: May 13) The Heart Wants What It Wants. Rated: Mature Words: 7,346. Status: Complete.

Author note: Lots of angst and post-war life evaluation and some smut.

Thank-you so much @kakasaku-haven for hosting this. It’s already the 13th where I live so I hope it’s okay to post this now. :)

Enjoy. ^_^

. She bit her bottom lip in both nervousness and consternation. All these warm bodies gyrating, and she was beginning to think this party was just an excuse to hook up. But the funds raised were going to a good cause, so there was no point in complaining. Everyone wore their masquerade masks well, especially the man currently holding his hand out to her, silently asking for a dance. She smiled and accepted his hand, letting him lead her to the dancefloor. He had a henge on and so she couldn’t tell if his mask covered his upper or lower face, which was frustrating. But he held her delicately, danced like he owned the stage, and looked at her like she was the world, and she was quickly and easily enamoured. And when they slipped out the back to fuck, everything just came naturally. There was groping that came with one-night stands in alleyways. There was murmuring but very little kissing, as one would expect from clandestine trysts. And when she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning at the wonderful feeling of him filling her, there was no pretending she didn’t like it rough. He was still a mystery to her, then. There was no way that he didn’t know exactly who she was, but his mask stayed on his face the entire time. .

Images of her wrapped around him, biting her bottom lip, clawing his back and scrunching her eyes as he came inside of her...they tormented him. Not because his lusting after his former student was some wet dream fixation he couldn't get out of his head. Not because he couldn't have her, and imagining her breasts bouncing as he fucked her against some random wall was a major factor of his night-time fantasies. She tormented him because he couldn't get enough of her.

The first time they had sex was in the back room of a bar during the first annual allied shinobi celebrations – a masked function that was so successful that the powers that be decided to keep the theme for every event. It was supposed to maintain the appearance of cooperation and friendship between the nations while giving people the freedom and confidence to mingle without previous prejudice. During the seven days leading up to it there were competitions and friendly tournaments but on that final (and only masquerade) night, the lines between their countrymen blurred and the drink flowed as heavily as the reduced inhibitions did.

Relations between nations had never been so good.

The original plan was to hold the masquerade in neutral areas until Naruto suggested they rotate the host between each nation. That meant that it would take five whole years for every village to have their turn, and five whole years of people hooking up with a foreign shinobi; the allure of the mystery and no-strings-attached sex brought in hordes of ninja. Not to mention the village pride that spiked during the friendly matches leading up to it. They had to have multiple festivities and new buildings set up to cater to everyone. Which was also seen as a competition between the Kage on who could hold the best event. And who could help out war victims more. And who had the best booze. The list of things they competed over were endless.

If it meant peace would reign, it was worth it. But Kakashi’s problems were more important.

Every year and new festival brought him closer to Sakura. Each time he’d don his henge and backwards mask he’d take her to a secluded area and do things to her that he’d never imagined she would love to have done to her.

Every inch of her skin was his to worship.

But the months between their trysts were the hardest. Lonely nights remembering how she felt wrapped around him were driving him mad. She would never accept him in the light of day, so he was resigned to taking those annual moments when Sakura Haruno let loose enough to fuck a complete stranger.

And he was an impatient man as much as he was a self-hating masochist.

His heart wouldn’t be able to take it forever.

.:.

As she came down from her high Sakura gripped his butt with both hands and squeezed, giggling when he jerked slightly. It wasn’t a teasing, flirtatious smile that adorned her face when he looked down at her, surprised. Was she making fun of him? She’d never done that before. Sakura giggled again, and she pressed herself further into him. She let herself relax. He was still inside her and softening but she liked it. The slow circles she traced over his back were born from laziness and contentment. It felt like she was attempting to haphazardly cover him in ninja symbols but due to the drag of her movement, he couldn’t tell which ones. “Are you drawing jutsu on me?” Sakura pulled back and looked up at him. His voice was deeper than usual. She smiled. “Are you pretending to be a shinobi?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe I am.” “Hm. And I’m pretending to be Cinderella. Fuck me until midnight, but I’m the one that turns back into a pumpkin.” That was a weird thing to say to someone you thought was a stranger. He frowned. “Who does that make me?” “The Prince-who-isn’t-actually-Charming.” “Huh.” He smiled at that. “That sounds like me.” She just hummed, wiggling her butt as it started to numb, pressed against the brick-and-mortar wall behind her. Her fingers grasped at his chin, feeling bare skin and her question on what type of mask he was wearing behind that henge was answered. Kakashi’s hand flew up to grasp her quickly and she gasped at his speed and the intensity of it. He didn’t want to show her. He’d flee if she pushed him. She released her hold and he reciprocated. But Sakura wasn’t finished yet. She would push him in other ways. “Why the disguise?” .

And fucking her was the only thing keeping him sane.

That was a bad thing. He should be able to handle this post-war funk he'd found himself in without banging his former student. He was a sick, sick old man. And to top it off, she didn't even know it had been him. Every. Single. Time. They. Fucked.

Made love...they made love.

Kakashi shook his head, trying to dispel the thought from his head. It wasn't making love; they'd only ever fucked in crowded pubs and clubs or the back alley of said establishments. The end of the war saw a rise in celebrations, and everyone knew that Kakashi Hatake didn't do celebrations. He always made his excuses on that masquerade night and disappeared until dawn. He didn’t do big crowds and frolicking, so no-one questioned him.

I just do Sakura.

Bad thoughts...he covered his eyes with his right hand, fingering the flask of sake in his left hand, and groaned out loud. Sakura didn't know her mysterious lover was him. But he knew full well it was her. He was taking advantage of her. He had been since she turned eighteen, and he hated himself for it. Their first time had happened because Sasuke had rejected her and refused to let her on the list of approved guests during his stay at the new allied prison – and then when he got out, he treated her like she was a stranger; the only times he acknowledges her was in team missions, outings and spars. She had been suffering that night, which was why she’d gone to the masquerade, and Kakashi had known it.

“Kakashi?”

He didn’t turn to acknowledge Yamato; the other man had made it his mission to get Kakashi out of his funk, but it wasn’t working. Sometimes Kakashi day-dreamed about strangling the wood style user with his own jutsu. Wrapping vines around his throat while pretending he couldn’t hear his cries for mercy calmed him enough to not try it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Just thought you should know that the council is trying to make you Hokage again.”

Kakashi groaned loudly; it was the only reaction Yamato was going to get from him, so the wood style user quietly shuffled away.

Maybe he’s finally learning to just leave me alone.

Or maybe it was just his only reason for hunting him down this time. It didn’t matter. His turbulent thoughts weren’t large enough to house concerns over Yamato’s interruptions as well. Kakashi set aside time to wallow in self-pity – over the years he’d perfected that art – and didn’t like being interrupted while doing so. But after the war that self-pity had turned into anger which eventually morphed into fear (of the future) and finally settled into what he supposed was a mix between wistfulness and regret. Add Sakura to the pile of things he did to hurt himself and something was going to burst soon.

How had his life come to this?

Kakashi frowned down at the broken memorial that once held Obito’s name. How could a rogue ninja have screwed him over so thoroughly, twice, that the only time he felt whole and complete was when he was fucking his former student? Obito’s pain had turned him into something twisted and blind but Kakashi had promised himself never to take that path. He’d fight that lingering darkness even if it meant taking something he didn’t deserve.

He groaned. That was enough whining for the day.

“You got off easy,” he told the epitaph before teleporting away.

.:.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk.” She frowned as he ran a hand down her side; letting out a sigh of anticipation. What kind of line was that? Did that really work on other women? But oh gods, when he rubbed her clit just like THAT she couldn’t complain. He hit her hard and fast, moving those talented fingers right over the spots he’d learned were her weakness. Fuck it, she needed him. But they always did it against a wall and she was beginning to think he believed it was the only way he could take her. What about a bed? What about letting her on top? But those rebellious thoughts quickly lost cohesion as he drove into her. All she was now, was a puddle of wet, slap happy moans and quivering pleas to an unknown deity. She was definitely going to have trouble walking after this. When she did finally come down from the white-hot bliss that Kakashi never failed to provide for her, Sakura decided she’d bug him about changing things up next time. But twelve months was a long time to wait for what she desperately wanted from him. .

The war had left many orphans, shinobi or not, and the homeless outnumbered the dead – most of which were civilian. This count included all nations, as it was public knowledge that the world's shinobi force had been cut by the thousands. So, in light of this, the great nations set up a number of fundraisers, the funds would go to rebuilding homes and replacing personnel. Even the Feudal Lords were getting in on it, donating money to make themselves look good – it was a political move, given that they hadn't had anything to do with the success of the war. But it was still welcomed. And needed.

And nobody deserved that praise more than people like Kurenai. She was determined to find love again, one day, after Asuma, but for now her attention was on all the children also caught by the ravages of war. She had her daughter as inspiration and Yamato’s help to set up a new complex on the outskirts of Konoha – the existing orphanages were too overrun to take them all.

It became her raison d'etre.

Kakashi knew all this because he’d volunteered his dogs as a weekly entertainment for the little brats. After the first few months he let himself be dragged into babysitting a few, nostalgic for the good old Team Seven days when someone was both surprised and in awe over his charming wit. Kurenai must’ve been doing something right because these kids were far more well-behaved than his old team had ever been.

Sakura.

Unbidden thoughts were best shoved to the back of his brain.

Kurenai’s Home for the Homeless also took over a portion of Kakashi’s life. After his role in the creating of the war he needed to give back something. The ninja nations would quickly recover their old strength, but the civilians would be slower to mend. So, he focused his efforts there.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of helping us this time,” Pakkun warned him.

Kakashi gave him his best smile. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Pakkun huffed at him but said nothing more as he dived into the group of kids who were waiting for him. Their laughter and squealing made Kakashi’s eye twitch, but he kept the smile plastered to his face. And even with his mask on – which the kids had already repeatedly tried and failed to remove – they could tell it was a genuine smile, nonetheless.

This was his seclusion away from his ninja life. So, when Sakura came into the home one late Monday afternoon, Kakashi had a moment of panic – he’d gone out of his way to either avoid her or schedule their unavoidable interactions and he never would’ve believed that homeless shelter was a place she’d willingly visit. Sakura had her own demons regarding the war; her failed attempt at a relationship with Sasuke was the least of her concerns it seemed. She frequently woke from nightmares. And he’d heard she’d had some bad news regarding her fertility.

I’m such a stalker.

So, the reminder of innocence – the children who bore the brunt of the fallout of a war that should never have touched them – should be too much to bear, right?

She looked over at him and smiled her tired smile. He found himself instinctively smiling back. A tugging sensation began at his navel and twisted and heated up as it quickly travelled south.

Not now.

But then Kurenai caught her attention and that coil snapped.

Kurenai.

Kakashi contemplated mimicking Kurenai and trying to move on from his pathetic mindset. He could ask her out, or someone out, and forget all about the calming warmth and somehow simultaneous ferociousness that Sakura invoked in him. But he knew from experience that he would just mope. He would just use it as an excuse to internally ramble about his life mistakes and hate himself. He was still going to Obito’s so-called grave, after all. The man had murdered innocents and started a war but Kakashi still mourned him.

He wasn’t ready to move on, though. Not yet. And certainly not with anyone but Sakura. Or with her.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing his eye where the Sharingan used to be. And he was still moping.

.:.

The fundraiser was in full swing again; the familiar sight of shinobi from all nations done up in masquerade and dancing and drinking warmed even the most aloof and stubborn hearts among them. The Raikage had outdone himself with floating baubles and lanterns with music that played off the masked theme. He’d imported some band from across the Northern Sea to play until midnight. Like it was some Cinderella ball and the Raikage was looking for his own prince. Sakura smiled at that as she made her way through the streets of the village hidden in the cloud. It was her first actual visit to this part of the land of lightning and she was buzzed from the excitement of it all. Ino was off doing her thing – or doing some cloud ninja, who knew – and Sakura was content to lazily explore the village while keeping her eye out for her ex-sensei. He always made excuses to not directly participate in the festivities, but he was Hokage now. He needed to at least be here. She pitied the ninja who had to remain in their home village as a part of their skeleton crew during these festivities. They were mostly just lower levelled shinobi (and those who either didn’t want to travel or couldn’t) anyway. Ones that didn’t participate in the war were usually shafted to that position too. These festivities were mostly for the survivors. It sounded elitist, but Sakura wasn’t too worried about that. They deserved this. It took her an hour to realise she was being followed – she blamed the alcohol now swarming in her system. But like she couldn’t tell who he was, the baka. He never did fully appreciate her natural talents with genjutsu. She led him on a bit of a merry chase and allowed him to catch her near the temporary accommodations for foreign ninja but the moment his hands found her waist he manoeuvred her toward the nearest alley way. What was with him? Sakura could do little other than moan as he pressed her against the stone wall, face first. He worked on her clit as he grabbed her tits, seemingly not wanting to be tender, again. When he did let his guard down and be gentle with her, they headed into territory that neither was ready for. Okay. She could go with this. Sakura pushed her arse into him, rewarding him for his attentiveness to her body. “Yes, fuck, like that! Please!” He quickly dispensed of any more formalities and Kakashi undid his pants in record time before driving into her, squeezing his eyes shut to the hypocritical mantra in his head. He didn’t want this but so desperately did at the same time. Sakura didn’t bother keeping quiet, ignoring the occasional passer-by of the alleyway who was momentarily drawn by the sound of her cries. When they realised it wasn’t someone being attacked, they quickly scuttled off. She didn’t even care if any of them recognised her as the former Hokage's protégé. Sakura came hard at that thought and trembled as Kakashi rode out the last few strokes whispering naughty things in her ear. She didn’t want this to end here. It wasn’t her orgasm making her tremble as the thought occurred to her. She wanted to see ALL of him. She pushed him to pull out of her and then shakily spun around on the spot. Sakura sucked in a deep breath for courage and forced herself to sound calm as she asked, “my place or yours, next?” Her fingers were like fire as they caressed his arm. Kakashi could only pant in response, struggling to hold himself up as she put bad thoughts in his head. She waited patiently, clearly expecting a response. Did he dare to hope? Maybe she was just basking in her own afterglow and didn’t mean it. Because she had no idea who he was. But when he finally recovered enough to pull back and stare into those unfathomably beautiful, emerald eyes of hers he realised she was serious. She wanted to know who he was. There was no doubt he was the same man she’d been fucking annually, this whole time. And she was ready to really know him… maybe? Kakashi felt shame and fear rush through him. And fled .

He was such a coward. It was so easy to love and leave her. Much easier than admitting how he felt. And infinitely easier than removing his henge and accepting whatever recriminations she had for him.

“You still sulking?”

Gai couldn’t come and annoy him as often as he used to so Yamato had taken up that mantle. But at least he didn’t wax poetic about youth and all that crap. Not that Kakashi wasn’t feeling like he didn’t need a pick-me-up, but Yamato’s style was decidedly less annoying. When sober.

He decided to humour him, since masochism was the least he deserved after that last run-in with Sakura.

“Just about the naughty fun I had in Kumo last week.”

Yamato scoffed. “I don’t drink nearly enough to be hearing that.”

“You drink enough for the both of us.”

He wasn’t going to pull the I-missed-out-on-the-war-so-I-get-to-complain-more-than-you card. Yamato may have been captured but he didn’t watch his comrades die in front of him. Not this time, anyway. Kakashi had no idea how much of the experimentation Kabuto did on him that he remembered. Did it change his chakra? Did it leave him with nightmares? Did he have to buy new sheets for his bed every week because of how much he tore them up when he could actually get some semblance of sleep?

Did he remember nothing at all?

Kakashi would’ve liked to have slept through the war, if it was still a guarantee they’d have won. That Infinite Tsukuyomi might have been beyond stupid, but the lure of peace was enticing. Still, he bore his pain. Even if he did run from it from time to time.

From Sakura, you mean, old man.

He chuckled, surprising Yamato.

“Did you hit your head, Kakashi-senpai?”

“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore.”

He was Hokage now, after all.

“Some habits are worth not breaking.”

“Hm. If they annoy me, you mean.”

“That’s the spirit. Laugh at my expense, like you always do.”

Kakashi looked over at him and felt himself relax at the teasing look on the other man’s face. It was a welcomed respite that he knew he didn’t deserve. “Right.”

“By the way, Sakura’s looking for you. Might want to head on over to her place later to find out what about or risk the almighty wrath. See you later.”

Yamato left him to his thoughts then, not knowing how dark they’d turn in his absence.

As far as he could tell she wasn’t dating anyone, though he didn’t stalk her enough to know if she occasionally scratched the same itch that he scratched every year. He didn’t want to know if some other guy had been inside her.

Kakashi was well aware that the best way to combat this would be to confess to her and hope she didn’t pound him into the ground, but like he said: he was a coward. He was too used to seeing her as his student. Too used to the self-flagellation of only getting to hold her once every twelve months. He was too comfortable with the barely-see-each-other routine they had going that didn’t make his heart race. He didn’t even know how to begin that conversation with her.

And the Hokage shouldn’t be dallying with a former student.

Kakashi sighed again, running a hand along the graffiti on Obito’s memorial.

As the years droned on so did his monotonous excuses.

.:.

This time he let her pin him to the wall. Because she liked it. And because she could. He groaned into her mouth as she worked her hand over the bulge in his pants, her knees on either side of his left leg. Dry humping seemed to make him even harder, so she kept at him, working him into a tizzy. It was going to be even harder for her this time, if she didn’t slow down. But Sakura was the one in control, so she used her strength to keep him from flipping their positions and taking charge, kissing her way up his bare neck as she did so. When she bit his earlobe, he bucked against her and Sakura slid her hand back down to his pants. But this freed him up somewhat and the disguised Hokage grasped her hips and pressed so hard she knew come morning there’d be a bruise. “Let me show you how much you deserve to be fucked.” Old words that never failed to turn her on, regardless. The fucking part of this interlude was over and before she knew it, her back was against the wall again. So he’d only let her take over for the foreplay? Arsehole. Sakura was feeling petty as Kakashi lifted her left leg over his hip and pushed into her with no more preamble. She gripped his butt harder than necessary, scratched down his back knowing it was going to scar if she didn’t heal it soon, and bit his lip when he leant into kiss her so hard, she tasted blood. “Fuck.” And he liked it. “Fuck,” She echoed his sentiments and cried into his mouth as he took her in the familiar position. She focused on hurting him wherever she could and was rewarded with his groans and fast approaching orgasm. There was no way Sakura was letting this become a once-a-year thing anymore. She wanted this forever. She needed him. “Kakashi…” Did she just…? It didn’t matter, his orgasm was ripping through his body and he was helpless to focus on anything else. Her sudden need to cause him physical distress didn’t bother him – he already had too many scars, anyway. It was a form of masochism and he wondered, as he spilled into her and screamed his release, if she would be up to donning the master title if they ever took this to the bedroom. He could be a very good slave. Fantasies drifted away from him as reality sunk in and he pressed the full length of his body against hers, his face in the crook of her neck as he breathed in her unique scent. It never failed to do him in. But this, whatever it was, needed to either stop or become something more. Sakura was the first to move and adjust her clothing. He stood there, his dick hanging out and unabashed about it, and watched her tuck her knickers back into place. “I won’t wait much longer,” she said enigmatically before turning away from him. Did she realise she’d called out his name? Sakura sashayed away from him. He watched her hips as she went. And narrowed his eyes at her. Yes. She knew. .

Sakura pressed a hand to Bull’s head as the dog stared at her blankly. Kakashi’s ninken was warm to the touch, unlike the man in question. He’d been so cold with her, except for those nights. The annual celebrations had become her ritual too, not just his. One night to forget who she really was, who she was supposed to be. To put her troubles aside and just feel again.

But her time of mourning was over. Even if she did occasionally flit between this fact and her self-pitying thoughts in her head.

Kurenai watched her quietly. As the only person Sakura had confided in, regarding her feelings for Kakashi, she was also a very good listener. The older woman didn’t know they fucked once a year, but she knew more than anyone else.

Sakura removed her hand from Bull and returned it to the brush she’d been using.

“You should ask him out.”

“He deserves better.”

“Maybe you are that better,” Kurenai said, smiling at Sakura’s snort of derision. “Just because Sasuke didn’t have the good taste to like you back doesn’t mean you’re not good enough for anyone else.”

Sakura stilled, the hand brushing Bull now shaking slightly. Sasuke had done more than just not like her back, but Kurenai didn’t know that so she forced herself to keep brushing. The repetitive motion was cathartic, and she took a deep breath, finding herself calming as she inhaled the lingering scent of Kakashi that all his ninken had.

“This isn’t about Sasuke,” she said.

Kurenai sighed. “No, I suppose not.” She stood up. “Need anything, kiddo? I’m heading to the cafeteria.”

“No.”

“Mummy!”

Sakura watched as Mirai came running in and jumped at her mother. She paused in brushing Bull to smile and take in the wholesome moment of the two talking animatedly as they slowly made their way out of the room. She knew that she and Kakashi deserved their shot. She was just so used to waiting a whole year that Sakura sometimes forgot that he was waiting for her, too.

She smiled and returned to her chore. The dogs got weekly baths from Kakashi – one of the few things he wasn’t lazy about was his ninken – so they didn’t need the pinkette to fuss over them. But they seemed to enjoy it so she kept at it. It had been a whole year since she’d first walked into this place. She’d done it to have an excuse to spend more time near Kakashi. Even though the man in question wasn’t here right now, she still did it.

Avoiding this place for her own personal reasons were no longer necessary. She could move on.

“Next?” She asked, when done with Bull. He reluctantly moved away and Guruko bounded up to her, his tail wagging in anticipation.

It was over an hour before Kurenai returned, glowing with happiness while apologetic for how long she took. Sakura simply waved her concerns away. She’d finished the grooming herself and was content to sit back and watch as the kids played with Kakashi’s ninken. The dogs were so sweet to let them pull on their ears and snuggle, the way they did. The kids adored them.

Shiba started telling them a story about how he saved Kakashi from an evil ninja by biting his bum. It had the kids in giggle fits and the other ninken rolling their eyes. Sakura knew, because she’d been there, just how embellished this story was – though Shiba had indeed bitten a rogue ninja who was about to skewer Kakashi, it hadn’t been on his arse.

“Reminds me of the good old days,” Kurenai said, interrupting her thoughts and giving Sakura a cheeky smile. “Asuma and Kakashi would argue over who had the best stories and both of them always embellished.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah, they were such polar opposites in so many ways.” Kurenai lost her smile and stared off into one of the adjoining rooms, where Sakura assumed Mirai was playing with the art supplies (she always did that instead of joining the time with the dogs, like she was trying to hog them; it was cute).

The older woman sighed. “One related to a Hokage and rejecting that connection, the other Hokage material who’d take the role readily, even though it never appealed to him.”

Sakura fingered the hem of her skirt absentmindedly. “He’s still griping at Tsunade for being named the sixth Hokage.”

“Who was it that really put him forth for Hokage?” Kurenai asked, teasingly. Tsunade liked making fun of the now-Hokage for not liking his position but it was clear to everyone (except Kakashi, it seemed) that the blonde had had nothing to do with it.

Sakura looked away from her, her face tinging pink. It hadn’t been until his inauguration that she found out he hadn’t actually wanted the position. Why must he hide his feelings so much? “I did.”

.:.

He left her a message to meet him at his favourite drinking spot. It was a place with a similar look to it as Ichiraku, except it sold alcohol – to shinobi only. Her shishou also knew about it and Tsunade raved about the place – it was apparently a new stall set up in the last few months. It was called Shochu, or something like that. Sakura glanced up at the sign before ducking under the flap, half expecting to see Teuchi and Ayame; it was that similar to Ichiraku.

“Welcome!” The owner beamed at her; his eyes squinted closed as a genuine smile graced his battered face. “What’ll you have?”

She glanced at the menu. They also sold Onigiri sandwiches and Renkon chips which made her mouth water just looking at. Sakura decided to splurge, since she’d arrived on time and Kakashi was bound to be late, even to this.

She swallowed nervously. Whatever this was.

“A bowl of Renkon chips and Amazu sauce,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “No drinks, please.”

“Coming right up! Oh…”

Sakura frowned at him as the man’s eyes opened and widened. He grinned. “It’s on the house.”

“Uh…”

“The name’s Kohaku.” If possible, his grin only widened. “And you’re Sakura Haruno. The beautiful pink haired kunoichi with a dazzling smile.”

“Uh…” She felt her face warm.

“Lunch has been paid for,” he continued. “By a secret admirer.” He handed her a note. “He also said to open this only when you’re done eating. Oh, and I’m adding a sparkly to your order. You’ll need it.”

He winked at her and she palmed her face, embarrassed. Did Kakashi set this up? And why?

As Kohaku got started on her order, Sakura fingered the note, feeling Kakashi’s chakra embedded into it. Her heart was fluttering, and she squirmed in her seat. She hadn’t realised he had a romantic side. But why lunch here? And why alone?

“Sakura?”

Her head snapped around at the other patron, not realising until now that she wasn’t alone.

It was Yamato.

“What are you doing here?”

“Eating.”

He grinned, holding up a beer. “Drinking.”

“Damn you, Kakashi,” she whispered.

Yamato frowned. “Yes, he said he was joining me for lunch this time. Even told me to tell you it’s his treat for all those times you paid.”

He burped loudly and Sakura realised he was already drunk.

Yamato seemed kind of bummed out, too. She also just noticed he had a few glasses of sake next to him, too; the beer had run out. Downing another glass before turning back to Sakura, he side-eyed her, like she was the one responsible for all his problems. “Are you just going to sit there sulking all day or is there something you need of me, senpai?”

“Senpai?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his vision clearly becoming impaired. He thought she was Kakashi, maybe? The wood style user was beyond drunk, it seemed. And in the middle of the day! She bit her bottom lip, wondering if he’d been like this since the war and she’d just not noticed. Shame filled her and she made a mental note to get the hospital psychiatrist to track him down.

Just to talk.

Or strap him down then talk, as he’s likely to be stubborn about it.

Yamato shook his head. “Oh, it’s not him. It’s you.” He patted the stool next to him. “Sit, I don’t bite my teammates.”

Sakura wasn’t convinced.

He sighed. “Lady Tsunade told me to kep… I mean keep an eye on Kakashi. He was supposed to be here drinking but in-instead I got you.” He patted the stool again. “Sit, blossom tree. Sit.”

He had to be harmless when drunk. Sighing, Sakura got off her stool and instead sat down next to him, grudgingly. “She mentions he’s over drinking.”

“No, he hasn’t. But I have.”

She sighed again. “That’s what I meant.”

Yamato just shrugged and loudly ordered a bottle of sake and another glass.

“I’m not drinking with you.”

Yamato swayed and shook his glass in her face. “Who said it was for you?”

She didn’t need this. “I’m going.”

“No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no! I’ll behave!”

Sakura was half-way off her stool when Yamato grabbed her hands and pouted at her. She sat back down to avoid making things worse and he brightened up, humming and grinning when the sake bottle and glass arrived. He slid the glass to her and, unsurprised, she accepted as he poured her shishou’s favourite drink into it. But she didn’t drink.

They waited in silence and Sakura eagerly accepted her food when Kohaku handed it over, complete with a smile and twinkle of his very white teeth. Maybe he was related to Gai sensei?

Yamato watched her closely as she ate, then darted his eyes away when she glared at him. He kept throwing her weird looks but waited until she was done and had the bottle of bubbly in her hand before asking, “so, what’s got you looking f-for drinksies?”

“I was looking for…”

Him.

They’d been shagging on the alliance celebrations for five years now and she knew very well that he knew very well who she was the entire time. Talking with Kurenai about moving on and finally being able to put Sasuke behind her, she felt different. Like she was coming out of a black haze of morosity that had been engulfing her and Sakura was finally waking up. Giving into Kakashi every year and spending the rest of the twelve months pretending nothing happened had broken her more than she realised.

And now.

Now she wanted her life back. Kakashi was a loose end that needed to either be severed or restitched. She knew which one she would choose, so the resolution to this weird tryst would depend on what he wanted from her.

Why does my love life always have to be in the hands of others?

Yamato made a grumbling noise, breaking her thoughts and mumbled something she couldn’t quite catch.

"What?"

He slammed the drink down on the counter and eyed her suspiciously. "I s-saaaaid, he has a fuck bu-buddy."

Sakura sighed, nursing her drink and wishing she didn’t have to deal with this; she didn’t really want to hear about how Kakashi had found himself a new piece of arse and how his friends were so happy for him. She knew very well that she was the piece of arse and didn’t want to know all the lewd things her sensei had told his friends.

And then it hit her.

She was just another fuck.

She was usable.

She was recyclable and replaceable.

She was disposable.

Sakura had never pictured Kakashi having a sex life – the man was so reserved; she’d begun to think his only lover was those Icha Icha books of Jiraiya’s. It was why she’d been surprised the aloof man had instigated their trysts. How often did he sleep around? She felt her stomach twist at that thought.

Am I just another toy? Is that why he’s been so reluctant to reveal himself? Is he ashamed?

She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to stop the tears. This was ridiculous. A drunken comment from her former taichou didn’t determine her worth to Kakashi.

“Some of the guys thought he was gay or asexual for a long time,” Yamato went on, and the pinkette found herself frozen on the spot; her body rigid and the drink getting warm in her hand. “Not that there’d be anything wrong with th-that, you… you judgy… uh, thing.” He gave her the stink eye.

The wood style user balked for a moment, as though he was about to vomit in front of her, but then seemed to get a hold of himself, throwing back another shot and coughing loudly. “Uh… that smarts.” He wiped his mouth. “Where was I… oh yeah, turns out Kakashi-senpai has a fuck buddy.”

Yamato spun around on his stool and stopped after the second spin, peering closely at Sakura. “You look awfully familiar.”

“Hm.” She found her voice only to clamp her mouth shut.

“Well anyway,” Yamato went on, indicating to Kohaku.

But the older man shook his head. “You’ve tapped out.”

“Whaaa?!” Yamato grabbed his bottle and Kohaku swiped it out of his hand.

“No,” he said fiercely. “No more for you. I told you only three bottles.”

Yamato pouted but it got him nowhere. He turned on the stool, looking like he was going to stumble away, but he didn’t budge.

“Sakura?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why does Kakashi-senpai get to find someone special and I d-don’t?”

“Special?”

He nodded. “Wants to spend his life with her. ‘Fraid he won’t be able to.” He sighed and smacked his lips together. “I want that someone t-too.”

He groaned, turning back to the bar and flopping his head down on it. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

Sakura wasn’t paying attention to him now, sliding off her stool. "I have to go. Sorry!"

Yamato groaned; pushing his glass toward the bemused barkeep, he tapped it, silently demanding more even though Kohaku had just told him no. "Fine!" He yelled, waving his other hand at Sakura's retreating back. "Stick me with the bill like you always do, Kakashi-senpai!"

.:.

The note had very little to say, but it was his chakra that led her on. Sakura ran like the wind. This was a jutsu she’d never heard of and he was so teaching it to her later.

But right now, she needed answers from this adorably annoying man.

It didn’t take her long to realise it was leading her to his apartment.

“My place or yours, next?”

Her desire to get him into a bed had started so long ago. Was he finally relenting? She wanted more than the sex though, so if that was all he was really after…

Stop obsessing.

She slowed down as his apartment loomed in front of her and walked a natural pace up the stairs and to his door. She gasped as he opened the door and Sakura focused on the man in front of her; he looked tired by happy.

Did he really want this?

He smiled but said nothing, clearly waiting for her to start talking.

But Kakashi was averse to blunt confessions. And if she learnt anything from Sasuke she knew that emotionally stunted men – even if they were as emotionally needy as Kakashi – needed a lighter touch. Like a startled animal in the wild she needed to approach with caution.

Play it cool.

“So,” she drawled. “Shochu huh? Couldn’t afford a fancy restaurant?”

He huffed and stepped aside. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t know, I’ve already eaten.” He raised an eyebrow and she ignored it, continuing. “What other reason could I have to enter your apartment at this time of day?”

He chuckled suddenly, startling her. “You’re not subtle, Sakura.”

She groaned and stormed in. He closed the door and turned to face her, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You sent me the note, Kakashi. The ball’s in your court.”

“Is it?”

She swallowed heavily. How could he look so calm about this? Okay, no more preamble bullshit. She wasn’t going to try (and clearly fail) to be subtle about this anymore. She stepped over to him, palming his chest and smirking as she felt his heart race under her fingertips.

“Sakura?”

“Hm?”

“What are we doing?”

“I have no idea.”

He smiled under his mask and didn’t pull away when she touched it gently.

“But I’d like to see where it takes us.”

Kakashi tugged on the edge of his mask without pulling it down. “I don’t know. You might not like what you see.”

“I’ll close my eyes.”

“Then you won’t see all the good things, Sakura-chan.”

“Drop the chan.” Sakura inhaled deeply; the look on his face, from what she could see, was amusement. “And drop the mask.”

They’d danced around each other enough. She could feel the tension in his body as she pressed against him. He was as worried as she was, just hiding it better.

Indeed, Kakashi felt very little other than trepidation as Sakura demanded he let it go. For five years he’d hidden behind a masquerade to take what he wanted not knowing if it was what he needed. So, he talked a big game, but could he let go of the angst and self-loathing he was so well-known for?

He trembled as her grip became mildly painful. She was determined but scared, her eyes widening slightly as she stubbornly held his gaze. This was so much harder than whispering dirty words in her ear and fucking her warm, writhing body into a non-descript wall. This required courage.

But he needed to do this.

One step at a time.

And the first step was dropping his mask and kissing the woman he loved. Without shaking like some teenage virgin.

But once his face was bare, she took over.

Her mouth was on his and an instant later all the tension left his body. They pulled each other in, gently and lovingly caressing; there had been enough rough fucks, this wasn’t about that. This time they could take it slowly. And do more than just stand against walls. He steered her toward his bed as she started exploring his mouth and finally, he leant into the kiss with no self-pity or angst. Only with hope for the future.

…

#KakaSaku #kakasaku month 2021 #kakasaku month #my fanfiction #fanfiction

[aster-aspera]

Just a short chapter I wrote for new year.

CW: child abandonment, homelessness

Pairings: romantic/platonic DLAMP, romantic anxceit

Happy New Year everyone, I hope you have a great day/night and I hope 2021 brings everyone better tidings <3

Masterpost

Janus ignored the urge to straighten his bowtie before walking up the small path that led to the house. As much as he wished he could make some final adjustments to his look, his hands were currently full, with flowers on one side and his cane on the other. He figured dropping either to fiddle with his bowtie would be a rather ridiculous look.

It would be fine, he told himself. It was just a small celebration at their house, it didn't matter how he looked. They loved him, they wouldn’t judge him.

And oh, those words. They loved him.

The thought made him simultaneously want to leap with happiness and run for the hills as fast as he could. It was so terrifyingly new and at the same time it felt so comfortably familiar. The phone calls that lasted way longer than they should. The bad days when all of them came over and baked him bread. The banter over the comms when he was too tired to join in on patrol. They loved him.

A raven haired head popping itself out the door distracted him from his brooding.

“Dude, are you just gonna spend the whole evening standing in our garden or are you gonna come in?” Virgil asked.

“I was just admiring the flowers,” Janus drawled.

Virgil raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Come in, everyone’s waiting for you.”

He stepped inside and handed Virgil the flowers.

“Aww, are those for us? How sweet,” Virgil cooed.

Janus definitely didn’t blush. “It’s polite.”

“It’s romantic,” Virgil teased.

“Virgil,” Janus sighed, trying to sound exasperated but only managing to sound fond.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Come on, I need to start frying the gulab jamun.”

“You’re making gulab jamun?” Janus asked, pleasantly surprised. They were apparently a famed treat in this household.

“Yeah,” Virgil stopped when he walked into Roman.

“And now he shows up,” Virgil snarked “Here, go put these in a vase, I have dessert to attend to.” He shoved the flowers into Roman’s hands and quickly disappeared into the kitchen.

Roman beamed at Janus. 

“Hello darling,” He purred “You look absolutely stunning.”

“You are not allowed to use that nickname, it’s mine, I licensed it,” Janus protested.

“Oh, but I just love the way it flusters you, darling.” 

Janus could feel the heat creeping all the way from under his collar up to his cheeks. Roman was definitely getting back at him for all the times Janus had flustered him in costume.

“Roman, stop,” Janus sighed as he gently pushed his shoulder.

Roman just chuckled and led him into the living room, where Logan was arranging some snacks.

“Guess who arrived!” Roman announced to the entire house.

Logan looked over and smiled brightly.

“Hello Janus, you look good.”

“As do you,” Janus complimented as he walked over to shake his hand. Logan ignored the proffered hand and pulled him into a hug.

Well, okay. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

Of all four of them, Logan was the least keen on physical contact. Patton and Roman were always going in for surprise hugs and even Virgil would frequently rest his head on Janus’s shoulder. But Janus had only ever seen Logan hug his boyfriends. And that one memorable time when Janus had nearly drowned and Logan had cuddled him to keep him warm, but he really prefered not to think about that.

“Will you be joining us for patrol?” Logan asked when he pulled away.

“No, not today.” Janus lifted his cane a bit to illustrate his point.

Logan nodded understandingly. “We’ll be happy to have you on comms for tonight.”

Janus made his way into the kitchen, where Patton was sliding something into the oven as Roman bothered him.

“You can’t bake something at 1800 degrees, Roman, that’s not how baking works.” Patton sighed. He noticed Janus entering the kitchen and beamed at him.

“Dee!” Patton smiled at him. “I’m so happy you’re here. Food’s nearly ready. ”

“Why not? 10 minutes at 180 degrees equals 1 minute at 1800 degrees. That’s how math works.” Roman interjected.

“Well, it’s not how ovens work,” Virgil groaned, from where he was bent over the frying pan, a little closer to the hot oil than was probably safe.

“If you guys would just listen to me, food would be ready in a minute,” Roman sighed.

“Virgil’s right, sweetie, that’s not how ovens work,” Patton said.

Virgil stuck his tongue out.

“Very mature,” Janus laughed.

Eventually, when all the food had been baked at an acceptable temperature, they gathered around the table.

“So, does anyone have any new year’s resolutions?” Patton asked them.

“New year’s resolutions are just a festive way of lying to yourself. Nobody actually keeps them,” Janus said.

“See! He gets it,” Virgil said triumphantly.

“Come on,” Patton pleaded, “humour me.” 

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes, but Janus could see the fondness in them.

“Well, my new year’s resolution is to take more time to read books I’ve been meaning to read. I have a whole pile of interesting paperbacks,” Logan went first.

“Of course you would choose something so nerdy,” Roman teased, “My resolution is to spend as much time as possible with you, my loves,” He swept a grand gesture over the room and Janus tried not to think about how he was somehow included in that, “and I vow to give you all the kisses and hugs you deserve.”

“Well, next year I resolve to make better bad decisions and to remember to write 2021 instead of 2020,” Patton chimed in with a bright smile, “but in all seriousness, I hope to spend more time writing next year and maybe sign up for some art classes.”

“That’s a great idea, Pat, I might join you for those,” Virgil said.

“See, now you have some new year’s resolutions too.”

“What about you, Janus?” Logan questioned.

“Well, I guess if I have to, I resolve not to kill as many people this year,” He answered sarcastically.

Patton shot him a look. “Try again.”

“Fine,” Janus sighed, “I resolve to read more books, I guess.”

“Splendid resolutions, my dear lord of the lies,” Roman praised.

“Are we going to eat now? We have to patrol in a few hours,” Virgil complained.

“As always, you really have your priorities sorted, Virgil,” Logan said teasingly.

Logan shrugged himself into his costume with precise movements and fastened the cloak at his neck.

“You know, I really don’t get the cloak. Isn’t it awfully impractical?” Janus asked him from where he was draped against the door frame.

“Maybe, but I distinctly remember it coming in handy when you nearly died of hypothermia. How would people say it? It saved you ass?” Logan answered smugly.

“That was one time, you can’t tell me you wear a ridiculous cape,”

“Cloak.”

“Whatever, because someone might fall into the harbour. How often does that even happen?”

“More than you’d think. Also, Batman wears a cloak.”

“Batman is designed by nerds who don’t even know how to throw a punch, it’s a wonder you haven’t tripped over it yet when vaulting over rooftops.”

“Unlike some people who don’t need a cloak to trip when vaulting over rooftops?” Logan asked, voice full of faux innocence.

Janus growled exasperatedly and punched his arm, in the friendly way.

“As much as I love hearing you two bicker, we do need to start patrol,” Roman interrupted.

“Bye, Dee!” Patton hugged him and gave him a quick kiss on the nose before bustling out the door. 

Roman and Logan followed in quick succession, pressing kisses to his cheek and forehead. They sauntered out of the room, leaving him reeling with the ease they had done that. 

Virgil smirked up at him from where he was sitting at the computer, looking over some police reports. 

“What?” Janus asked him.

“Nothing,” Virgil replied with a shit eating grin, “You just look awfully cute when you blush.” 

“I’m not cute,” Janus snarled.

“Whatever you say,” Virgil replied as he walked past him. He stopped for a moment, staring into Janus’s eyes. His look didn’t bode well for Janus. He placed a gentle hand on the back of Janus’s neck and then pulled him close. 

“Is this okay?” He asked, his eyes drifting to Janus’s lips.

“Very,” Janus managed, his voice a little rough.

Virgil leaned forward and pressed a soft but insistent kiss on his lips. Janus felt himself leaning into it, the sweet taste of honey and saffron overwhelming his senses.

After what felt like a mere fraction of a second, Virgil pulled away. Janus made a small noise of protest and Virgil chuckled.

“Later,” He promised, “I have to go patrol now.”

He walked out the room, leaving Janus feeling lightheaded and wondering if the others were as good at kissing as Virgil. He sincerely hoped so.

~

Patrol was surprisingly uneventful. Generally, the statistics indicated there was a rise in crime around the holiday period. New year itself was always quite a hazardous day, with the large crowd of people out at late hours and the fireworks masking any sounds that could give you away. 

Yet this year, Logan had found himself inexplicably looking out to the new year. Maybe it was the fact that a certain former villain had enthusiastically agreed to come over and celebrate.

Whatever the reason, the city had decided to grace them with a calm night and Logan sat on a rooftop ledge, watching Virgil teach Patton a back handspring on the adjoining rooftop.

“Can you do one of those?” Janus asked him over the comms as they watched Patton fall onto his back for the third time.

“They’re not too hard.”

“That doesn’t answer the question, nerd,” Roman chimed into the conversation from where he was checking out an alleyway somewhere.

“I’m sure I could manage it,” Logan sighed.

“Like Patton’s managing this one?” Virgil quipped as Patton landed on the ground once more. Logan was incredibly grateful for the shock absorbent breastplate he wore.

“I nearly got that one!” 

“Sure, pat.”

“Shit,” He heard Roman hiss through the comms.

“What?” Janus’s voice was immediately on edge and Logan heard the familiar clicking of keys, telling him Janus was probably pulling up the live feed from Roman’s mask.

“Oh,” He said.

“What’s going on?” Patton asked, righting himself from the wet rooftop.

“A kid,” Roman gasped.

Logan felt his heart clench. 

“Is he hurt?” Virgil asked.

“No, not as far as we can see, but he does look malnourished,” Janus explained.

Logan got up and quickly swung down from the rooftop, the others right behind him.

They entered the alleyway, where Roman was crouched in the corner, whispering quietly.

He looked up and gestured for them to stay back. They obliged, Patton sitting down against a wall as Virgil walked a bit further back to make sure no one would enter the small street.

Logan leant against a dumpster bin, trying not to look too threatening.

“It’s alright, we won’t hurt you. Could you just tell me your name?” Roman asked gently.

“My mom told me never to give a stranger my name,” The kid deadpanned.

Logan smiled, if the kid was quipping back, he couldn’t be in too bad a shape.

“Touché” Roman chuckled, “you can call me prince.” 

“Like the singer?” The kid asked with an audible chuckle.

“No,” Roman sighed and Logan heard Patton giggle.

“Well, you probably should have chosen a better name then.”

“Probably,” Roman said, “At least give me something I can call you, if you’re not gonna tell me your name.”

The kid thought for a moment. “Fine,” he drawled, “You can call me J.”

“Ok, well J, that corner doesn’t look all that comfortable, if you would come with us, I’m sure we could find you more suitable lodgings.”

“No!” J snapped, fear colouring his voice.

“Why not?” Roman asked, clearly taken aback.

“You’ll just stick me in the system and... they don’t want me there.” J choked up a bit and Logan saw Patton’s eyes fill with sympathy.

“No, we won’t,” Roman promised.

“Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do with me then? Nobody wants some abandoned street rat.” J sighed bitterly. Logan ached at how he seemed to have given up any hope of someone caring for him. The poor kid had clearly been through too much in his life.

“Do you really have no one left?” Roman asked.

“Do you think I’d be sleeping on the streets if someone still cared about me?”

Roman looked back at them helplessly.

“Isn’t there anywhere he could stay on short notice?” Virgil asked.

“I have people,” Janus interjected quietly.

“Dee, no!” Patton exclaimed, “we’re not going to drop some kid off with those thugs you work with.”

“Not like that,” Janus sighed and Logan could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know someone who works for me who’s really good with kids. He and his partner have fostered kids before. I think they could help him.”

“Really? You think he’d just be okay with it if we rolled up with a kid?”

“I’d have to discuss it with him first, but I’m certain we can find a home for J, if not with this guy, we’ll definitely find someone else.”

“I could ask my moms,” Patton conceded,” I don’t think they’re up for another kid, but they might know someone who wants to take care of him.”

“And what for tonight? We can’t really show up at someone’s house and just drop him off.” Virgil said.

“Take him to our home,” Logan suggested.

“Are you crazy? That’s a huge security risk,” Virgil burst out.

“We can’t just leave him in the cold to freeze,” Patton protested.

“I have a safe house near where you are, just take him there,” Janus interjected.

“Is that settled then?” Roman asked them from where he was still crouched in the corner, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“Yeah, I think so,” Patton replied.

“Okay kid, let's get moving. We’re taking you to a safehouse near here,” Roman told him.

“Did you explain everything to him?” Logan asked, he really hadn’t heard Roman say anything.

“Of course, you guys were too busy bickering to notice.”

J still regarded them warily and Logan was vaguely worried he was going to bolt the moment they got out of the alleyway.

“Hey,” Logan said, trying not to sound too awkward, “we’re not just going to abandon you to the system. We're heroes and that means we’ll find a way to help anyone.”

J just looked up at him with an unimpressed expression. “Right.” He shouldered past Logan, heading to where Virgil was waiting.

Patton quickly caught up to them, probably because Virgil was looking at the kid like he wanted to flee to the nearest rooftop.

“So you’re really not gonna tell us your name?”

“No.”

“You guys want me to head to the safe house too?” Janus asked, ignoring their chatter.

“We’d love that,” Roman beamed, “We might even be just in time for the new year.”

They got J settled on the ratty couch in the squalid safe house. It wasn’t a terrible safe house, it was actually quite clean. It just clearly wasn’t used for much except the occasional emergency.

Janus arrived quickly, dropping a bag filled with what Logan presumed was food.

J froze when he saw Janus. “Deceit?” He asked and Logan felt his stomach plummet. Of course the kid would be afraid, they had trapped him in a small space together with the city’s most notorious crime lord. It didn’t matter that Janus had never and would never harm a child, his reputation was terrifying enough.

But inexplicably, the kid’s shoulders relaxed and he seemed moderately more at ease.

“You know, most people don’t look so at ease in my presence,” Janus said, clearly also puzzled by the reaction.

J shrugged. “You’re not that bad, you’ve helped a lot of my friends, gave them jobs and places to stay. You do more for the street kids of this city than these heroes.”

Roman gasped in mock offence. Logan shrugged. It made sense, they didn’t have the resources or connections to help kids like J, but Janus had been putting an effort into helping the worst off in their city for years. It seemed his efforts hadn’t gone as unnoticed as they had previously assumed.

Janus grinned at them, his expression smug and then grabbed something from the bag. 

“Here,” He held out a soft sweater, “this is for you, it would be a shame if we went through all the trouble of getting you here and then you died from hypothermia.”

“You could just invest in a space heater for this place,” Virgil complained.

“Sure, because this space is used so often. It definitely isn’t a waste of money to purchase heaters for all those safe houses I barely use,” Janus snarked.

J ignored their bickering and sauntered over to the window, pulling the sweater over his head.

“Hey, guys,” Patton interrupted, “I think it’s time.”

Logan looked at the time on the corner of his display. He was right, the clock told him there was only one minute left of this year.

They all gathered round the window, looking out over the city.

“To new beginnings,” Patton announced.

“To new beginnings,” They all replied. J just rolled his eyes.

Logan felt Patton clutch his arm and Janus loop an arm around his waist as bright fireworks exploded over the city skyline. He looked over at his friends, how they stood gathered together, their faces awash with the colours of the fireworks. 

And he looked at J, the young kid who was staring at the fireworks as if they were something magical, his hands tangled in the sleeves of his sweater. 

Logan promised himself he would do everything to get him a good home, he deserved so much more than the world had given him.

New beginnings, it was a fitting sentiment.

#janus sanders #ts janus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #sander sides #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #roman sanders #ts roman #sanders sides fic #dlamp #ts dlamp #romantic dlamp #anxceit #virgil/janus #superhero au #ts superhero au #my writing #uhhh #i feel like i forgot to tag something #tell me if i did

[marshmallow-phd]

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

A tuttering sound was the first thing you were aware of when you came to. Then it was the cold press against your forehead, making you flinch back with a slight groan. Eyes still squeezed shut, you swatted at the thing to make it go away. Your head throbbed but the cold press was somehow worse.

“Now, now. I know it might be uncomfortable, but you have a nasty goose egg on your forehead that needs attending to.”

“It’s hardly that serious.”

At the male’s voice, your eyelids snapped open. You pushed back into the pillows once you realized who it was.

Standing at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his back, staring down at you, was the man who had frightened you nearly to death. He wore scowl on his face under the mask that had been replaced. A brief memory of what lied underneath flashed in your mind.  

“It’s alright, dear,” Mrs. Chan cooed at you. “You’re safe. Despite that tumble you took down the stairs.” She punctuated that statement with a sharp glare towards the man.

“I didn’t push her,” he growled defensively.

“No, but you didn’t have to frighten me like that,” you snapped. This was a new sense of bravery for you, but he deserved it. A simple “please don’t go come in here” would have sufficed.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t snoop around a place where you are a guest.”

“I wouldn’t have been a guest if you had your way initially, given how you wanted to throw me out when I was still suffering from a fever. What kind of a gentleman is that?”

The man cleared his throat, having been outdone in the argument. “Just stay out of the west wing.” The tails of his jacket bellowed behind him as he whirled on his toes and left the room.

“Does he always have to be so dramatic?” you mumbled to yourself.

Mrs. Chan tutted at you. “I thought you were supposed to be the most obedient out of your siblings.”

You lowered your eyes, feeling shame for having betrayed her trust. “I’m sorry. I heard a noise and I was worried someone was hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if your heart is too soft for your own good,” she said. “I’ve seen how your sister bullies you around and how you are with the less fortunate, even with your own current predicament.” Ringing the wet cloth out over a bowl, she sighed. “Get some more rest and then, after breakfast, we’ll go walking outside, alright? Help you get your strength back. Maybe even satiate that curiosity. Can’t really get into trouble out there.”

“Is he always so obnoxious?” you asked. Though you knew they shouldn’t, your thoughts were focused on the man in the mask. His temper should have been enough for you to ask to go home, but you were curious about the scars – both the physical and the invisible ones.

“The master has had a hard life these past five years.”

That was hardly an answer to your question, more of an excuse. But you decided that maybe another route was better. “Why does he wear that mask?” From you could remember, the scars didn’t seem severe enough to constitute hiding them all the time.

“He doesn’t like people staring.”

“But wouldn’t people stare anyway?”

“He’d rather have them stare at the mask then at-” she caught herself before she could reveal too much. “What’s underneath,” she finished. She must not have known that you saw the lord without his mask last night.

“Does he even go out for people to stare?”

“You are quite the curious child, aren’t you?”

You laughed just a little bit. “Father always said that I wanted to know more than what I should.”

“He’s right.” Letting out a long breath, Mrs. Chan straightened the blanket and patted it flat. “I supposed you should know a little, if that would make you a bit more cautious.” You straightened up in anticipation. It didn’t escape Mrs. Chan’s notice, who shook her head. “Years ago, Lord Huang was engaged to a… very beautiful woman. No one is sure where she came from, but the young lord was in love. It was the first time we’d seen him so happy since his father passed. It was good to see him so spirited. But… one night, after they were wed, there was an argument. I couldn’t hear what it was about, but Lord Huang was very upset. It calmed down eventually, and everyone went to bed. Sometime before the sun came up the next day, there was a fire in his bedroom. It took so long to put out we feared the worst. Lord Huang was unconscious when they broke the door down. He barely survived, but not without the incident leaving its mark.”

You swallowed thickly. “And… her?”

“She died. From the smoke, they think. Her body was found in the adjoining room. Her skirts were scorched, so they think she might have started out in his room and then tried to run to safety but didn’t make it.”

“Is that what you think?”

Mrs. Chan picked up the tray on the nightstand with more force than needed. “I think a tragedy happened that night and it changed a good man. Scars that you can see aren’t the only ones that can’t fully heal.” She exited the room, leaving you behind with a slight feeling of guilt.

But did you really do anything wrong? Was it not right to be curious about your less than gracious host? Many people had tragedies, but that didn’t mean the answer was to shut yourself away and be cruel to those around you. You never made any complaint about not having a mother. And when your father was tricked into ruin, you made the most of your new situation.

You stewed on the story Mrs. Chan had told as you buried yourself deeper into bed. The sun wouldn’t be rising for a few more hours and no candles had been left lit. Even if you wanted to add light into the room to see by, you didn’t know where to find a match. As sleep was the only choice you had, you closed your eyes and dreamt of a white mask.

 Mrs. Chan brought you breakfast after the sun had risen and she even had a new change of clothes. They were a bit fancier than your usual garb (Cosette would have been snatching them as quick as her thin hands would allow), but you thanked Mrs. Chan as she helped you get dressed. The rose red color of the dress was striking against your skin, but the blue overcoat created a calming effect for the color as you buttoned it closed under your chest.

It was a bit colder outside today. The sun was hidden by thick clouds and a breeze ruffled at your skirts. Your fingers were stiff, so you kept them warmed with your arms that crossed in front on your chest. You were mostly silent as Mrs. Chan talked. She complained about Mr. Chan’s snoring and the rising price of fish. All of this was underlined with a sense of humor. The only time you had seen at the upmost serious was when she told you about the fire. Her presence was becoming one of comfort for you, one that you didn’t want to leave. It was the motherly figure you had been denied most of your life. The two of you were laughing at a story of Mr. Chan chasing after chickens that had gotten loose when Lord Huang came down the vast steps that led to the upper back of the castle. Mrs. Chan stopped you as he came closer and you both dipped into a low curtsy.

“Is there something you are needing, Lord Huang?”

Lord Huang gave a flickering glance in your direction before turning back to Mrs. Chan. “Leave us.”

You swallowed with panic. She wouldn’t really leave you alone with him, would she?

Apparently, yes, she would. A look of pity was sent to you before she curtsied again and walked away. Lord Huang motioned with his head to follow him. For a few minutes, the two of you continued to walk the grounds, no words spoken from either of you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you went through every possibility for this sudden interest in you. Was he testing you? Was he going to question you further? Or yell at you again for invading his privacy? Without warning, he stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

“If you’re well enough to walk on the grounds, you’re well enough to go home.”

He snarled. He couldn’t be used to disobedience of this magnitude. “And why is that you don’t want to leave? To find out more about the reclusive lord who killed his wife in a fire?”

You shook your head fervently. “No. It has nothing to do with you.” Though you were still curious to know more about him, that was an ant compared to the mountain that loomed over you back home.

“Then why?” he snapped.

“My family is forcing me to do something I don’t want to do, and I need time to figure out how to get out of it.”

With a clearing of his throat, he placed his hands behind his back and looked out into the fields. “And what is it that your family is trying to force you do to?”

“They want me to get married.”

He scoffed. “Marriage? That’s what you’re running away from?”

“Yes. Because I don’t love him. A marriage like that isn’t worth entering.”

“Love in marriage is a fairytale. It’s foolish to believe in that.”

Anger was boiling the blood under your skin. Who was he to say such things? Didn’t he do exactly that? “If that’s so, then why did you marry your wife?”

Lord Huang’s nostrils flared as veins jumped in his neck. “That’s is none of your business! Now, go and live your fate!” He began to storm away.

“No, wait, please!” You grabbed hold of his coat sleeve with both of your hands. He could have easily ripped away from your grip, but instead he stopped and glared at you from over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. Please, don’t make me go back. Not until I’ve figured out a way to stop it.”

After a deep breath, he seemed to calm down, if only a little. In a low, steady voice, he said, “Women don’t often choose who they marry.”

“No,” you agreed, still clinging to his coat, “a woman’s lot in life is often limited, but I would like to have a chance. A chance to experience the love I’ve read about so many times.”

“I told you. It doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does. I’ve seen it. In my father’s eyes when he speaks about my mother. I might not have ever seen them together, but I know they loved each other. I know my father still loves her. Even with three children to take care of, he never married again.”

The muscle in Lord Huang’s jaw twitch as he clamped down on his back teeth. With each second that he stared at you, hope bloomed.

“One month. You have one month to figure things out and then you must leave.”

You nearly leapt at him in joy. “Thank you!”

He face twisted into an expression that “Now, go find Mrs. Chan. You shouldn’t be out here too long in this cold.”

You obeyed without hesitation and headed for the stairs. When you reached the top, you turned around to find Lord Huang staring up at you. Feeling grateful, you sent him a smile before heading inside.

Mrs. Chan was busy preparing a warm soup for lunch when you found her in the kitchen. She’d told you to go on to your room and she would bring a bowl to you when it was ready, but you declined. Now that you were no longer confined to that single space, you wanted to spend as much time out of it that you could. The only worry now was your limited time here. You hoped and prayed that you could find a solution to your predicament.

“Mrs. Chan?”

“Yes?” She kept her concentration on the carrots she was chopping for the soup. Taking the wooden plank that held the small orange pieces, she slid the vegetable into the soup and turned back to the onion.

“Was your marriage to Mr. Chan… arranged?”

“More or less so.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t arranged in the traditional sense,” she said. “I was much too stubborn and Mr. Chan was too shy. So, our families created situations where we would see each other and be forced to get to know each other.”

“But did you fall in love?” you asked with a slight desperation.

“Yes, we did. Our parents might have put us in the same room, but the rest was our own doing.”

You sighed. That sounded like a nice way to fall in love. It was, after all, still their choice.

“Are you thinking about that man your family wants you to marry?” Mrs. Chan guessed.

“Yes,” you replied solemnly. “I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never thought of him that way. I don’t think I ever could but-” You shrugged your shoulders, defeat slowly creeping over you. “The inheritance from my mother’s family is going to run out and most merchants won’t work with my father unless someone were to vouch for him. Gao has found success in many of the port cities. His word would help my father restore his reputation.”

Mrs. Chan tutted in her usual way. “That is too much wait for your shoulders to bear. But,” she flashed a smile at you with a strange glint her eyes that you couldn’t quite read, “I’m sure a solution will come in time. A girl like you deserves to be truly loved by your husband.”

You let out another sigh. Part of your mind was leaving the kitchen, traveling back to the fantasies you’d dreamt as a little girl lost in fairytales. “I hope you’re right.”

For another few hours, you stayed by Mrs. Chan side, eating lunch with her and occasionally helping her with the chores – whenever you were allowed to, that is. She insisted on doing most of the work herself. “It’s my job,” she huffed. “I would be horrible if I let a guest do so much.” You could only laugh at her response.

Eventually, she sent you on back to your room to rest, though you weren’t really tired. Waiting for you on your bed was a pile of books that hadn’t been there this morning. The titles and authors told you all you needed know about the contexts: romances. Tragic romances, to be more precise, but not all of them ended sadly. Taking off your coat, you sat on the bed and flipped to the first page of the novel that had been on top. In the back of your mind, as your eyes raced over the words, you couldn’t help but think of the one who brought these to you. Out of the three suspects, you were sure it couldn’t have been Mrs. Chan. There wouldn’t have been enough time for her to leave you, find these books, and place them here before getting so far on the soup. Mr. Chan didn’t seem like the kind to leave you novels in your room. But what possessed Lord Huang to do such a kind thing?

A giggle bubbled your throat. He seemed impossible, a walking contradiction. You were finding yourself a little fascinated by the man, even with his short temper and gruff appearance. He couldn’t have been all bad since he’d relented to letting you stay. Shaking your head, you forced your attention back on to the story in your hands. One kind gesture did not erase his earlier behavior.

**

Over the next few days, you did little to think of a solution with your family. You were too enthralled in the novels to remember to devote time to that particular problem. Instead, you developed a bit of a game with yourself. After breakfast, you would search the halls for a new study or hideaway, looking around the room before finding a spot to sit and read. When the time for your midday meal came, you met Mrs. Chan in the kitchen and ate with her, sometimes Mr. Chan joining the two of you as well. He would sit next to his wife, not speaking but always smiling at her. You rarely saw Lord Huang. Perhaps a brief pass in the hall or a glimpse of his black hair retreating into another room. You didn’t know where he slept or how he spent most of his days.

One evening, after you had finished all the novels but hadn’t found the bravery to venture to the library again to switch them out for new stories, you stared out the window, memorizing the silhouette of the trees against the setting sun. You wondered about your father and if he was worrying himself sick over you. Lu might have gone into the woods in search for you, only to find the broken carriage in the ravine. Cosette would be put out that you never made it to the city, and she wasn’t immediately restored to where she thought her proper place in society was.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Mrs. Chan announced herself and then came in, a gown fit for a ball in her hands.

“Lord Huang has requested that you dine with him tonight.”

“Why?” You didn’t mean to sound so surprised or disgruntled by the request, but he’d made it clear before that he wasn’t interest in your presence here by any degree.

“He simply asked for me to help you get dressed and bring you down to dinner,” Mrs. Chan said. A blind man could see the smile she was struggling to keep off her lips. “Come now. We don’t want the food to get cold.”

You stood up from the window seat, eyeing the forest green dress. “Do I have to wear that?”

“His Lordship is used to a certain fashion during dinner.”

You bit your tongue to hold back the inappropriate comment you were dying to make. Even if it was just you and Mrs. Chan, you thought better to keep it to yourself.

As soon as you were laced up in the dress you wanted it off. The bodice was stiff and the arms too tight that you could hardly move them. Mrs. Chan allowed you to keep on your more comfortable boots since the skirts were long enough to keep them hidden at all times. She escorted you out of your bedroom and down the stairs to great dining hall.

The high ceiling tempted you to yell out and hear your voice echo against the golden trim and intricate paintings of heavenly beings. Flames roared in a fireplace to your right that stood taller that you by at least a full head. In the middle sat a long table made of a dark wood you couldn’t name. It stretched out nearly the entire length of the room. At least twenty people could fit comfortable around it, perhaps even more. But only two dining sets were placed for the upcoming meal: one at the head of the table and another at the other end. Apparently, this wasn’t to be a very social dinner.

Lord Huang entered from the other end and sat down with any greeting made in your direction. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to do the same, so you continued to stand awkwardly off to the side of the room. You had never been to a dinner so… intimate before. Mr. and Mrs. Chan both entered soon after, the former helping you into your chair while Mrs. Chan filled your plates with meats and vegetables. Though you knew it wouldn’t happen, a part of you was clinging to hope that they, too, would be joining you for the meal as well. They disappeared through the door that lead back to the kitchen and you were alone with Lord Huang.

At first, neither of you spoke. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You could have been a ghost or an invisible monster sitting in that chair and it would have hardly mattered. Each of your bites were slow. Partially because your stomach was churning with nervousness and partially because the sleeves of the dress hardly gave you room to bring the fork to your mouth.

“You don’t seem comfortable in that.”

You looked up, unsure if you’d really heard him speak or not. But he had spoken, and he was staring you, waiting for a reply. “It’s not really my usual style of choice.”

He went back to looking at the food in front of him. “That’s all we have, except for Mrs. Chan’s clothes and the few simpler dresses you’ve already been given.” You nearly snorted at the suggestion that those dresses were “simple”. “Tomorrow I’ll have Mrs. Chan go into the city and buy you some new dresses to make you more comfortable.”

“Oh, no that’s not necessary. I don’t want to put more work on the poor woman.” Nor did you want to come across as ungrateful. You feared any misstep and he would throw you out before the month’s deadline came.

“She won’t mind. She’s been nagging me to get you a few things anyway.”

You weren’t surprised by that at all. Mrs. Chan was very much the person to tell her employer how to make a guest in his house comfortable. “Thank you. And for the books as well.”

He nodded, continuing to eat his meal in a manner you considered a bit too casual. “Did you enjoy them?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Yes, I did. Although, I couldn’t help but notice a slight theme among them.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Lord Huang said with true sincerity. “Those are typically the books I read that involve romance.”

You put down the fork, the clang of the metal against porcelain echoing loudly in the room. “Why does that make me so sad?”

And there was the scowl again. “I didn’t ask for your pity.”

He hardly discouraged you. “And here I am, feeling sorry for you.”

Shaking his head, Lord Huang stood up from his chair. “If you’re through with those books, you may go to the library and find new ones to read more to your liking. But stay out of the adjoining room.” Projecting his usual dramatic flair, he stormed out of the room.

You weren’t sure whether to scoff or roll your eyes at his response, so, in the end, you performed both and then went on with your meal. He might have been finished, but you were still hungry. And besides, Mrs. Chan worked hard on the meal. Someone should stay around to appreciate it.

**

An odd shift happened, starting the morning after the dinner. Now that you were allowed back in the library, you spent hours perusing the shelves to find another adventure. Though your heart longed for romance, you were easily distracted by the novels of other genres. Since Mrs. Chan was gone for the day to pick you up new clothes and other supplies in the city, you were left to fend for yourself. Amongst your findings was a family ledger. Most of the writing near the top was faded, but the last name scribbled on top the family tree was still clear enough to read.

Huang Zitao.

So that was Lord Huang’s name. You liked that name. Huang Zitao. It flowed nicely and had a noble sense to each syllable.

A dash connected the name to another, indicating a marriage. But whoever’s name was once there had been scratched over so severely that the pen had broken through the paper. Thinking it best to move on, you closed the ledger and returned it to its spot.

The next morning, Mrs. Chan was back, and you were treated to a glorious breakfast of scones and sweet buns and other luxurious treats. Between bites, you bravely asked for confirmation on what you had discovered. She confirmed that that was indeed Lord Huang’s name. You didn’t mention the other entry that had been scratched out, thinking it was best not to bring that sad subject up again.

Once again, you spent your day in the library, switching between books until you were called for dinner. The placement for you had been moved from the other end of the table to the right of the head. You were extra cautious during the meal since you were closer to Lord Huang, but you were also much more comfortable. Not only because of the dress Mrs. Chan had picked out for you, but because this new set up felt less formal, less rigid. Lord Huang spoke more today, first greeting you and then inquiring about what books you had discovered in his library. After dinner, he asked if you would walk with him outside before it became too dark and you agreed before you really thought it through.

He was gentler in these moments. The scowl was no longer a constant presence and his voice had softened when he spoke to you. And the two of you spoke about everything. He told you about his voyages on the seas and the countries he had visited. You described the little trinkets your father had brought back for you from each of his own trips. Some you had been able to save from the collectors, but most you hadn’t. You described the one you regretted most at having to let go.

“It was a cylinder,” you said, holding your hands out to form the vague shape of the box. “There were letters on the outside that you had to get in the right order for it to open. It was made of brass, I think, with the most beautiful carvings on the ends. I loved to play with it. For hours I would try to figure out what the combination was. It was a game my father and I played. He would put a small prize inside and I would have to figure out the new code he come up with. He would leave hints around the house. I miss that. Possibly even the most out of everything.”

Lord Huang had stopped walking. His gaze on you was intense, though unreadable. Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and started pulling you back towards the castle. “Come with me.”

He led you through the halls of the castle until he came to a room you had never entered before. It was located in the western hall where you were forbidden to wander into again. Leading you inside, Lord Huang kept the door open and walked over to the dresser on the far side of the room. Your mouth hung open as you took in the sight of the extravagant bedroom. The bed was big enough to hold four people at least and the dresser and side tables shined in the fading sunlight as if polished with gold. The sheets were made of silk and embroidered canopies hung from the top of the bedposts.

“(y/n).”

You turned your attention back to Lord Huang, who had opened the doors of the top half of a wardrobe. You walked in deeper to the room, curious as to what he wanted to show you. From the wardrobe, he pulled out an almost exact replica of the cylinder box your father had given you. A gasp was pulled from your lips as lord Huang handed it to you. With careful fingers, you took the cylinder, a smile spreading across your lips.

“It’s called a Da Vinci box,” he explained. “Whether or not he actually invented it is up for debate, but I’ve always liked the name.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said. The metal smelled vaguely of brass, just like your father’s. A few of the symbols were faded. It was beautiful. Though reluctant, you went to hand it back to him, but he shook his head.

“No. You can keep it. To replace the one you lost.”

“I… I-” You shook your head, unable to find the words to say.

“Even if you try to give it back, I’ll just sneak it into your bag.”

You weren’t sure why, but that subtle reminder of you someday leaving stung at your heart. But you pushed it aside and held the box close to your heart. “Thank you, Lord Huang. It means the world to me.”

The beastly façade that he had held on to since you met him cracked. He was smiling at you. A genuine smile. And it was making your heart leap in your chest in a way you had never experienced before.

After that night, you spent most of your days with Lord Huang. You ate each meal with him, even breakfast, and then the two of you would spend the mornings in the library. He would show you books and maps and other baubles he had collected when he used to travel the world. Once lunch was over, the two of you would either go back to the library or he would take you to the stables where you would then spend the afternoon riding through the vast fields of his estate. His large shire, Zeus, was as black as night, but as happy as a summer’s day. The mare that Lord Huang had you ride was smaller, with a golden coat and pure white mane. The horses were opposites but got along a great deal.

The daily rides were exhilarating. You never went beyond the trees, but you always felt safe. 

One afternoon, a rainstorm rolled in without either of you realizing. At first, only a few drops splattered on your shoulder and in the grass. But within a single blink, the rain came down harder, reminding you of that night in the woods.

“Follow me!” Lord Huang yelled above the noise. He was already soaked through and you were fairing no better.

The horses galloped through the storm. Neither of you slowed until you were finally under shelter in the stables. Lord Huang dismounted first, undoing Zeus’ saddle as quickly as possible to get the horse more comfortable. Once back in his stall, Lord Huang turned and helped you down. You watched silently as he took care of the horses, helping them dry and eat. He was gentle with the creatures, petting their necks and noses and telling them how good they were. You stood off to the side, smiling widely at the human in front of you. When he turned back, you didn’t bother to try and hide it. Even when he stepped closer, so close that you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, you refused to stop smiling.

With his right hand, he reached up and caressed your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat. Moments went by. The two of you simply stood there, no sound but the rain on the wooden roof and the occasional whine from a horse. Your gazes were equal in intensity. You wondered– no, you hoped that he would lean down and press his lips to yours. But, instead, he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“You had a blade of grass on your face.”

Your eyes fell to the straw-covered floor. “Oh.”

“Come on.” He placed a hand on your back. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold. Mrs. Chan will never let me live if you get sick again.”

The smile was back on your face, if smaller this time, as you headed back inside the castle. He escorted you all the way to your room before bowing and walking back down the hall. Giggles like a schoolgirl were bubbling up in your throat. It wasn’t until you were safe inside your room did you allow them out.

“What is all this laughing about?” Mrs. Chan entered your room, her hands on her hips.

“The rain caught us by surprise,” you lied. “I haven’t been caught in the rain since I was a child.”

Mrs. Chan tutted at you before going over to the wardrobe to help you change for dinner. The charge you had felt in the stables was still there as you and Lord Huang ate. His eyes would flicker to you and then fall back down to his plate. He would occasionally stumble on a word or forget them entirely. You would fill in the needed speech, finding the moment rather endearing.

Yes, you were certainly beginning to enjoy yourself here.

Thoughts of Gao and your family’s wishes were far from your mind. It was only after your evening walks, when he dropped you off outside of your bedroom door and you went inside, alone for the first time since you’d woken up, did you remember the deadline Lord Huang had given you.

It was nearing closer. A mere few days away now. You wanted to ask him for more time, to let you stay a little longer. Truth be told, it was no longer about avoiding your family. It was this place you didn’t want to leave. You would miss him. And you worried that you would never see him again.

Though his past and secrets still scared you, the man who walked with you, laughed with you, gave you no sense of fear. When your skin brushed his, there was no chill of fright, only warmth and a wish to feel it again. He was a man who hid himself from the world, but let you see parts of himself. You still didn’t have the whole picture, but you knew that if you stayed, you would eventually have it all.

The night before the deadline, Mrs. Chan was helping you get ready for dinner. Lord Huang had requested that you dress in a higher fashion this time around. You were confused by the sudden change in atmosphere but held your tongue. Mrs. Chan was putting pins in your hair as she chatted away about the dances she used to attend when she was a young girl.

“But I didn’t look anywhere near as beautiful as you do tonight.”

You scoffed at the comment. “I’m sure you were much more radiant.”

“No, I dare say, I never did.” Mrs. Chan lowered her head until she was now level with you, catching your eye in the mirror. “You have brought such light into this home. It had been dark here for so long, I almost forgot what his laugh sounded like.” She kissed your temple in a motherly way before straightening up and staring for the door.

“Mrs. Chan?”

She stopped with her hand the doorknob. “Hm?”

Your heart was already beginning to break. The love you had been shown by her was more than you had ever received at home. What if he said no? What if he wasn’t feel what you were feeling when you were together? If he wasn’t, the heartbreak might be too much. “I’ll miss you.”

She smiled and answered cryptically, “Maybe you won’t have to.” She left the door open as she faded into the hallway.

You spent another minute or two catching your breath. Did she know that you wished to stay longer? Was there hope that he would say yes? Or was there an even deeper meaning to her words?

With a newfound encouragement, you hurried from your room, careful not to trip over the blooming skirts around you and headed down to the dining hall.

Lord Huang was already waiting for you. He stood in front of the fireplace, staring into the fire like a phantom. All this time, he had never taken off the mask. You never asked to see what was underneath, either, in the proper light. The memory of the scars had begun to fade from your mind. You feared that the simple question would take away all the trust you had earned over the last several weeks. Turning away from the fire, Lord Huang softly smiled before walking over to you. He took one of your gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it, right above your knuckles.

Dinner proceeded as it always had. You sat to his right and the two of you conversed, dancing around the elephant that sat in the middle of the room. You tried to find the right time to ask him if you could stay. But even in the moments when the conversation hit a lull, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. The elevated atmosphere of the evening gave you a small hope that he would be the one to ask instead. By the time dinner had ended, neither of you had spoken a word about it.

“(y/n)?”

You looked at him. “Yes?”

“I would like to show you something.” He held out his hand expectantly. You didn’t hesitate to take it and he pulled you up from the chair with haste.

Leaving the dining room, however, he slowed his pace, never letting go of your hand. He didn’t speak again either. The only clue you had to where you were going was the fact that he was leading you up the staircase and to the library. He didn’t stop once inside. He bypassed the books and desks and ladders that had become so ingrained in your memory that you could describe them in detail with your eyes closed. It was only when he came to that door did you start to understand.

Lord Huang took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before finally opening the door. You weren’t surprised by what was inside. It hadn’t changed since that first day. The lonely piano was still the only object in the room, a single window letting in the moonlight. Lord Huang pulled you inside and closed the door. He didn’t let go of your hand until you were both seated on the leather bench.

“My father gave me this piano,” he told you as he ran his hands over the wooden covering that kept the keys out of view. “I played it nearly every day. Music always made me happy. But… but after the fire, I couldn’t bring myself to play any song. I lost my passion for it, my reason for playing. I never came in here again.” He looked at you with such hope in his eyes. “I might be a little rusty, but can I play for you?” You nodded eagerly and he lifted the covering to expose the keys.

The notes were hesitant at first, unsure. Soon, though, the fingers remembered how to dance across the ivory keys and the room was filled with music. You wanted to close your eyes to hear to block everything besides the melody, but Lord Huang was enchanting in the way he played. His heart was exposed for the world to see and you didn’t want to miss a moment.

All too soon, the music descended into one final note. You stared at Lord Huang in wonder. This was a new side to him that you had never experienced before. The way he played with a childlike enthusiasm… you were in complete awe. Unable to stop yourself, you reached out and pushed a lock of hair that had fallen while he played away from his forehead. He caught your wrist before you could bring it back.

“(y/n).” It was the only word that was uttered before he leaned in closer and pressed his lips to yours.

At first, there was hesitation on both sides. Neither of you was sure how to proceed. Then his grip on your wrist relaxed, letting it go to bring you closer to him by your waist. You followed his movements like a dance. Behind his head, you pulled off your gloves, wanting to touch his skin with your own. You cradled his face in your palms. The edge of the mask dug into your wrist. He lifted you up and moved your skirts in a skillful way so you were sitting on his lap. Girls in the city used to giggle as they gossiped over the things they had done with their suitors. You had never joined in, having never been in a situation like this before. But now you understood the tingling under your skin. The softness of his lips and the feeling of being held in his strong arms. You pulled back only for a moment. Fingers slightly trembling, you reached behind his head and pulled at the string that kept the mask in place. The mask began to slip away. A single word left in a whisper from your lips.

“Zitao.”

That one little word snapped Lord Huang out of his trance. He pushed you away. You barely caught yourself against the piano. He stood up and started pacing about the room, one hand over his mask to keep it in place.

“Zitao-”

He whirled on you. “I never gave you permission to speak to me as so!”

You gaped at him. You couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting like this. “What did I do wrong?”

“I want you to leave.” His shoulders were heaving up and down. His free fist was balled at his side. But you stayed firm.

“No.”

“I said get OUT! Leave this castle and never come back!” He grabbed you by the arm and threw you from the room. The door slammed behind you, cutting you off from Lord Huang. The shelves rattled from the force.

Tears streaming down your face, you ran back to your room. You tripped over your skirts, despite having gathered them in your arms. You were too distraught to keep your balance. As soon as you made it back, you started ripping the dress off. You yanked out the pins and pulled at the bracelets until they set you free. Once you were released from the shackles, you threw yourself on to the bed and cried, cursing the day you met Huang Zitao.

**

Mrs. Chan woke you up early the next morning. If there had been any hope that Lord Huang had calmed down and changed his mind through the course of the night, it was gone the moment you saw Mrs. Chan’s face. She was without a single smile or twinkle in her eye. Her usually perkiness was gone, replaced instead by a distant seriousness. She hardly spoke except to give you an order. You were clothed in a simple dress and a cloak to keep you warm. Unknown to you, she had thrown your old dress away that had been ruined by the storm.

Mr. Chan was waiting outside with a small open carriage. He was already seated up front, the reins held tightly in his hands. Mrs. Chan helped you into the carriage and then placed two bags on the other side. Before you sat down, the feeling of eyes on your back ran through you. Turning around, you looked up. In one of the windows, you could see the faint figure of Lord Huang. He watched for a moment as you stared at him, then turned away from the window. Even as the carriage began to move towards the trees down a hidden road, you hoped that he would come running out the front door, calling for you to stay. But when the castle was no longer visible in the trees, that flame was snuffed out.

#exo #exo beauty and the beast au #beauty and the beast!AU #tao x reader #zitao x reader #tao x fem!reader #exo x reader #exo x fem!reader #huang zitao #z.tao #tao #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fairytale au #exo fairytale!au #kpop #cpop #mandopop #romance #angst #fairytale #beauty and the beast #Heart of Thorns

[aettangr]

@caeloservare asked: “I’d know those dazzling eyes anywhere.”

Masquerade Ball Starters // Accepting

There were still some things that Qrow didn't fully understand about the more 'civilized' societies, outside the clan.  Like masquerade balls.  What was the point of having a fancy party where everyone wore masks to pretend that they didn't all know one another?  He wasn't a big fan of expensive parties anyway, and this just added another layer on top of that.  

But he'd seen how excited James had looked when he'd brought it up, so instead of complaining, he'd gone out and bought a mask and a new outfit, to help keep up the illusion of being someone he wasn't.

Surprisingly, it had actually worked.  Quite a few people he'd run into hadn't known who he was until he talked to them.  Several of them had even been complimentary before they discovered who he was.  Then they'd decided that he wasn't worth their time, which he just sort of shrugged off.  He was used to that sort of thing, after all.

James, on the other hand, was unmistakable, regardless of what he chose to wear.  With his tall, muscular frame, he stands head and shoulders above many of the people in attendance.  Qrow watches him as he moves through the crowd, greeting people here and there, making his excuses when there was someone he maybe DIDN'T want to talk to.

Eventually, the General managed to cross the room to where Qrow was standing, leaning casually against the wall, a drink in his hand.  He looked up at the other man, a smirk slipping onto his face.  "Is that so?" he asks, pushing himself to his full height once more.  "And just what do you see in my eyes, General?"  He's teasing, now, but he can't help it; this is still new, still kind of fucking terrifying, and he uses humour as a way of hiding just how scared he is of hurting the people he cares about.

#caeloservare #♰ ANSWERS ♰ || Good listeners are as rare as white crows #♰ caeloservare ♰ || I handed you my porcelain heart--breakable but not yet broken #[I wasn't 100% sure if you wanted them in the same prompt so you get two. :3]

[nightowlfandom]

Fortune Teller! Park Jimin - I Wanna Take You Down My Path

So huge credit to @smallestplanets on Twitter for the inspiration behind this imagine. To my knowledge the requesting person got permission from the artist for me to use this as inspiration. Let me emphasize that I take no credit for this art or the idea of  a fortune teller alternate universe. If the owner of the artwork would like me to take the picture off this post then I will. That being said you should go support them because their art is top tier!

Credit for this ask goes to @youmaiiwasherebeforeu​

hallo! can u please make a oneshot w explicit smut and fluffo of dis fortune teller jimin and oc?? like timid and quiet oc w this DOMINATING man. if ur not ok w this than it's ok. I asked the artist who created this masterpiece permission to ask for a oneshot using their piece. if u do make this, please include this ask in the post as well. @smallestplanets requested this.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE

Disclaimer- Nasty Time with a dude you just met....hehe VERY SLIGHT Bloodplay

Okay so I didn’t do that much smut...sorrryy! If you want I can rewrite it! Or something else you might want!

LEGGO

.....

There was nothing like the Summer Festival that rolled around every year. It was like the citizens set aside their differences and just have fun. Everyone was so happy. You just adored the smell of fresh flowers showering from up above. People wore all sorts of fun colorful costumes that lit up the festivities even more.

“Y/N! You’ve got to see this!” one of your friends called you over to a street performer. A singer with a guitar, wearing a large sparkling purple top hat with a matching blazer. You joined the crowd in hearing the man sing. You were so lost in the music that you didn’t notice the man standing right across from you in the little circle the crowd had made around the performer.

You had found it in yourself to look up. He was looking right at you, so your eyes met almost instantly. You held back a slight gasp. This man was dressed in a crisp dark grey jacket with an ivory colored shirt underneath. His hair had looked like he had just rolled out of bed and the wind wasn’t helping either. 

“Hey Y/N! we’re gonna go on the rides! We’ll catch up!”

You didn’t even process your friends parting ways with you. You felt like he was trying to study you. You would have stared longer had somebody not completely rammed into you, sending you straight to the floor. 

“Owww” You whined.

“Allow me.” a soft spoken voice cut through the air.  The same man from before was standing above you, his pale hand outstretched towards you. “That looked painful.”

“Thank you.” you didn’t think twice before lacing his fingers within yours. You stood to your feet.

“First time?”

“Excuse you?” you were a bit taken aback. “W-what did you just say?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“At the festival.” he clarified, a slight smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“Oh...No. I come here every year.” you replied, suddenly feeling very silly. “I’ve never seen you here before.” you tried to make conversation. “I mean, is this your first time here?”

“I like to be in the background.” he shrugged. “I’m surprised you haven’t stumbled across my booth.”

“Booth?” you repeated. Maybe it was because you always hung in the back, but you’d remember someone looking like him around.

“Yes.” he nodded, that teasing smile still gracing his face. “Interested?”

Something in you trusted him, even though you had just met him. He seemed welcoming, inviting even. “Hm, what’s the matter? Scared.”

“No.” you scoffed, laughing a little. “It’s just I don’t know your name.”

“Right, I just didn’t expect to get this far.” he shoved his hands in his pocket. “Guess I didn’t see that one coming.”

The way he said ‘that one’ made you curious.

“I’m Y/N.” you smiled. 

“Jimin.” he replied. “Feel like taking a chance on the future?” He removed his right hand from his pocket and held it out to you, waiting. 

“Fortune teller?” you guessed.

“I like to think of it as...a guardian that leads people on the right path. I wanna take you down my path.” he winked. 

Call it adventurous, call it crazy...but you wanted to know more. So you grabbed his hand. “You knew I’d do that didn’t you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“No...but I was hoping.” he winked. Jimin began leading you to a tent looking room with black curtains. “Take a seat.” he let go you you, leaving your fingers cold. There was a table with two chairs on either side. There was a deck of cards, three white candles, a strange looking blade, all sitting on a red velvety tablecloth. You sat in the chair closest to the entrance of the curtain. 

Jimin sat across from you, his aura now completely different. He seemed focused, intent on breaking down your barriers to see through you. Your eyes darted down to the strange knife, which was about to slide off the table.

“Hey, be carefu- OUCH!” You tried to grab the handle, only to have it slide off the table and nick you in the process. Your index finger was bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep enough to require medical attention, but it hurt like hell. 

“I knew that’d happen.” Jimin’s voice didn’t waver nor change. 

“Shit. I’m such a klutz.” you complained. “Sorry about that-”

“No worries. Give me your hand, I’ll help you out.”

Without thinking, you held your hand out. You though that maybe he had a napkin on him or something. You were taken aback to see Jimin raising your hand to his mouth.

“What are you-”

His tongue darted out and slid down your finger, You could feel his wet tongue slither around your finger. You could see the red collecting on the tip on his tongue.

It took a minute to snap out of it. but your hand back.

“I don’t know what you problem is bu-”

Before you could finish your statement you saw something flash before you eyes.

You were laid against a plush surface, writhing under a scorching hot body. Sweat ran down your back. 

“I knew you were mine the minute I laid eyes on you.” a voice cut through the air. “Mine, m-mine.”

~

“Hey Jimin! Come look at this!”

“Must we stop and look at every cute animal we come across?”

“Umm yes?”

~

“Jimin, don’t you ever get tired of knowing the future? Doesn’t that take the fun out of life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Knowing everything before it happens...Seems kinda sad.”

“Well that’s one way of looking at it. I never thought of it that way”

...

“P-please don’t make me order by myself!”

“My darling it isn’t that bad.”

“Do you want the world to explode?!”

...

You had no idea what the hell just happened, and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not. “What the hell was that?”

“Your future.” Jimin’s voice was wavering. Almost as if he wasn’t expecting that ‘vision’. “And apparently mine.”

“Oh.” You went completely quiet now. You had no idea how to respond. “W-wow.” Suddenly you were overcome with a large bounty of fear. You literally just saw you future with a man whom you just met. How the hell were you supposed to respond?! You instantly felt small. As if you were shrunk down to size and the world was way too big to navigate through.

“Um...I should go.” Jimin rose to his feet and left without another word. He disappeared through the curtains and didn’t look back. You stared longingly, part of you hoping he’d return.

...(Hours later)

You hadn’t run into your friends all afternoon, and you were too in a daze to even try and look for them. Last you saw, they were headed for the circus tent. 

The festive bright colors had dulled to red, black, and purple as far as the eye could see. It looked straight out of a vampire romance novel. You tried not to think about Jimin all day since your interaction, but you couldn’t. 

“You know what, fuck him.” you seethed. “He’s lucky I didn’t call the cops on his ass.” you stopped in place.

“Free mask?” a woman came up to you, holding out a gem encrusted masquerade. “Enjoy the festival the right way.” She had white gloves on that matched her own mask that covered her entire face. You took a look around and many people were wearing all sorts of different masks. “Don’t worry each one is special. You won’t find another one like it.”

“Sure...thank you.” you smiled politely. As the woman walked away, you slipped the mask on. Lucky for you, you could see just fine. As you got your mask on, you could see a man in the distance, wearing a sparkly black mask that kind of reminded you of the mask from Phantom Of The Opera. 

You didn’t think much of it. In fact, you continued walking. You ignored everyone else. You were gonna enjoy yourself until morning.

“Ladies and Gents! The fireworks show is about to begin!!” 

You found yourself wandering to the back of the crowd, leaning against a tree. It felt nice. It was almost like your own personal show. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Very.” you breathed in response. His presence could be felt like a space heater. 

“I was thinking about you...”

“Really?” you hummed thoughtfully. “Before or after you left me sitting with a bleeding hand?” you turned around to face Jimin, his sparkling black mask seemingly glowing under the fireworks. 

“I didn’t know how to process it.” he explained. “It’s the first time I’ve ever come across a vision like that.”

“I can see that.” you shrugged. “So what do you want then?”

“Meet me back at my tent.”

And so here you were, arms crossed and dragging your feet to follow Jimin back to his tent. A woman was standing outside the tent and all Jimin had to do was nod her way for her to walk away.

The second you both went through the tent, you were taken into his arms.

Jimin kissed you passionately, walking you backwards towards the now empty table. He gently pushed you down, letting you land on the hard table. 

Jimin stared at you, particularly the rise and fall of your chest. He knew the blood was rushing to your had, because he was going through the same thing. Without thinking, you reached out and took his mask off. 

“Don’t cover your scar.” you smiled sadly.

He mirrored your face and removed your mask. “Only if you don’t cover your face.”

Whoever took whose clothes off first didn’t matter.

Slowly, he slid in, his jaw going slack as he felt you tighten around him.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” he whimpered. “You don’t know how badly I need this, how badly I want this.”

 His touch was scorching hot, like fire against your naked skin. “Do you trust me?”

You wordlessly nodded. All the motivation he needed. He took his pinky finger nail, which you noticed was very sharp and poked your shoulder. 

He neared closer and collecting the blood on his tongue.

“Wanted to gaze into the future again?” you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Could you blame me?”

#hoseok smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop x reader #hoseok imagines #taehyung imagines #yoongi imagines #jimin imagines #namjoon imagines #jungkook imagines #seokjin imagines #imagines #smut #smut imaginbes #jiming imagine #park jimin au #jimin x reader

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Six Feet Apart

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Summary: Dean is fed up with a lot of things about the Coronavirus and safety guidelines, but he’s got a compelling reason to follow them. Sometimes it’s funny what a little faith can do.

Warnings: Obviously everything surrounding the ‘Rona, mentions of terminal illness, some angst, some feels but a positive ending

A/N: @rileynicole1967​ requested a Dean x reader fic based on “Six Feet Apart” by Alec Benjamin. This is definitely not what you asked for because it took a weird turn, BUT it was very therapeutic for me to write and I still managed to give it the ending you asked for. So I appreciate the request more than you know :) 

[IF you happen to be curious about the inspiration behind this:   I’ve been in a rough place for quite some time-- hence my Tumblr absence. Not that the self-disclosure is really needed, but my grandma is in really bad shape with her cancer and I’ve been trying to make things work with a guy who very well could have been “The One” under non-’Rona circumstances. I’ve been caught in a terrible, anxiety-inducing middle between obviously wanting to date and spend time with a guy who is out in the world everyday, but only being able to do so much without risking my grandma’s health. Aaand kind of mine too. Stupid faulty meatsuit haha. Anyway. Life has been so stinking heavy but this helped a little.]

Keys. 

Mask. 

Wallet. 

Phone.

It was routine now. Dean had gone through the process so many times that his body practically went on autopilot as he grabbed the items on his way out of the motel room he’d checked into late last night.

There were days he thought the guidelines were frustrating, inconvenient, and even a little pointless. He knew he’d probably get the virus at some point anyway and he’d made peace with that. Maybe he’d be able to fight it off just fine, maybe he wouldn’t. But the chances of that happening were like anything else in life. Even if the world had managed to come to an eerie halt, that didn’t mean it applied to people like him and Sam who still had work to do. 

Although he knew he had everything he needed, he checked his pockets again just to be sure. If it were up to him, truthfully he wouldn’t even bother with the mask or the “social distancing” crap. 

But it wasn’t just about him anymore. And he couldn’t afford to take any chances.

Oh, I miss you most at six feet apart when you’re

Right outside my window, but can’t ride inside my car

And it hurts to know just how lovely you are

And be too far away to hold, but close enough to break my heart

I miss your smile

Feels like miles

Six feet apart

Dean pulled into a worn concrete driveway in front of a modest white house. The front porch, which he’d become quite familiar with lately, contained two cast iron chairs and a matching table. He’d never been inside, couldn’t risk the possibility of bringing the virus into her home if he’d unknowingly come into contact with it. While he was constantly on the road chasing cases, she only left the house for treatments, appointments, and intermittent trips to the porch when he could make it back to visit.

He sighed heavily, putting the car in park before turning to glare at the offending bit of fabric on the leather seat beside him. He hated wearing that stupid mask. Hated the way the material trapped each breath, circulating the warm air right back to his face. He hated how stuffy and suffocating it felt. Sometimes it even made him feel a little claustrophobic.

But she’d sewn it herself and given it to him so he could stop using t-shirts, bandanas, and any other piece of clothing he could find in his trunk as a makeshift mask each time he came to see her. Sometimes he struggled to keep in mind what a thoughtful gesture it had been. That having to wear it might be annoying, but it really wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. And if a stupid piece of fabric had even a small chance of keeping them safe, then he could deal with it for a few hours, couldn’t he? 

A few hours, he thought sourly. Nowadays they were lucky if they could even get that much time together. But he’d take what he could get.

Reluctantly, he grabbed the mask and looped the elastic bands around each ear. After fussing with the edges, trying in vain to make it fit comfortably, he let his head fall back against the seat in frustration. As he examined the space above him, sinking deeper into his ruminating thoughts, he began to wonder how much longer he could keep this up and if all of this was really worth it.

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it feels at six feet

It had been a while since the last time he’d been able to visit her. When the front door opened and two women emerged, he climbed out of the car and walked straight to his usual spot on the overgrown lawn. As he got closer and appraised her condition, he tried to conceal his reaction.

She looked rough. Despite the fuzzy robe she wore, he could tell how feeble her figure was beneath. Her movements were slow and deliberate, making him suspect she may have fallen again recently. He clenched his jaw, recalling how she’d been too weak to pick herself up last time and had remained on the floor until someone came to check on her the next morning. 

With help from the other woman, who he assumed was a new caretaker, she settled into the cushions on one of the chairs. Her chest heaved and her eyes fell closed as she took a moment to recover from the exertion of her short walk. When her eyes finally fluttered open, they were a stark contrast against her sallow skin.  

“Long time, no see,” she teased, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Dean nodded. “How’re you feeling today?”

“Can’t complain.”

In a way, he knew she was lying. He had a feeling she was having a rough day, but she was never one to complain. He had quickly learned that no matter what was going on in her life, she was the kind of person who worried about everyone else and put their well-being before her own. He wondered what kind of update the doctor had given her this time, but he was too afraid to ask.

“It’s so good to see you.”

Her gentle admission shook him from his thoughts. The edges of her eyes crinkled and he could just imagine the smile she wore beneath her mask. 

Space and time are interwoven

Well, at least that’s what we’re told

When I was young, I was suspicious, but it’s true

Time sticks like glue

I feel so blue

Here missing you

So I think I’ll build a time machine and go back to a time

When we didn’t need to measure six feet on the ground

When I came around

That’s not allowed

I can’t go back now

He’d never really been the relationship type. He hadn’t been looking for anything when their paths had first crossed, but there was something about her that had captured his interest. The more they’d gotten to know one another, the more he learned just how much they had in common. 

It had made him feel uneasy at first-- how easy she was for him to talk to. She rarely pressed him on anything and she had a way of making him feel comfortable even with the hardest conversations. They’d shared their life stories; their favorite memories, biggest letdowns, family dramas, and everything in between. After all of the monsters they’d each faced in their lives...this one was the deadliest and ugliest he’d ever had to face. And of all the people in the world who didn’t deserve to go through something like this, she topped the list.

Okay, sure, no one really deserved a death sentence. But didn’t it always make it worse that bad things always seemed to happen to good people? 

Dean had beaten leviathans and reapers. He’d taken out loads of vampires, ghouls, and ghosts. He’d ganked more angel and demon douchebags than he could count. But when he had asked her to let him help-- when he’d mentioned what Cas could do or offered to work with Sam to find a spell that might heal her-- she politely declined. She had simply thanked him and explained that it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else fighting for their lives like she was. That her life was in no way more important than anyone else’s. She’d told Dean sometimes these things just happen and have a little faith, you never know.

Dean had of course tried to argue, but he couldn’t quite put into words just how special she was. That she didn’t deserve this and he’d give anything to change their circumstances. At one point he’d even considered tracking down a crossroads demon and making a deal to switch places with her, but he knew she wouldn’t have wanted that. 

No matter how many times he tried to bring it up or how much he wished he could fight this one for her, there was nothing he could do to fight the monster slowly killing her from the inside out.

So, I miss you most at six feet apart when you’re

Right outside my window, but can’t ride inside my car

And it hurts to know just how lovely you are

And be too far away to hold, but close enough to break my heart

I miss your smile

Feels like miles

Six feet apart

It seemed like there was never enough time. They’d talked all afternoon and neither one of them were ready to say goodbye but, when she suddenly shivered, he knew it was time for him to leave. It wasn’t cold outside by any means, but it took a lot more to keep her warm these days.

He couldn’t help but linger a little longer, admiring her from where he still sat in the grass. Sometimes just being in her presence helped ease a little of the hopelessness he always seemed to grapple with. It was starting to take a toll on him-- not knowing if things would ever get better or if the world would ever return to some sense of normalcy.

What he wanted more than anything was to walk right up on the porch and wrap his arms around her. It didn’t make sense how much he ached to just be near her. He’d never admit it out loud, but it was almost physically painful how much he wanted to reach out and touch her-- to hug her, kiss her, or even see her smile without their stupid masks.

But she was barely holding on and he knew her body was fighting every moment of the day just to keep her alive. 

He hated wearing his mask. He hated how he could be so close to her and still feel so far away. He hated not being able to hold her and he hated that there didn’t seem to be an end or a solution in sight for the state of the world at the moment. He hated that she was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. And he especially hated the fact that the universe had to have a pretty damn cruel sense of humor to let him meet someone like her in a time like this. Even though he was fed up with feeling like he was stuck in another one of Gabriel’s twisted, incessant pranks...the thought of walking away and not having her in his life at all was far worse. 

So he took it one day at a time. He knew there was a chance he might get the virus at some point and usually he was ready to accept whatever cards fate dealt him. Maybe he’d be able to fight it off, maybe he wouldn’t. But she wouldn’t be able to. And he knew if he slipped up, if he somehow managed to pass it along, that that would be the end for her.

He hated a lot of things lately and he wasn’t sure if they’d ever really go away. But there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that every single inconvenience and moment of frustration was worth it for him to be able to spend time with her-- even six feet apart.

***

Dean was staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. The nightmares didn’t come as often anymore but, when they did...well, they were no walk in the park. He let out a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed the images of her sunken face from his mind.

The movement had jostled her, and he hugged her closer when she began to stir. He placed a gentle kiss on top of her head and she hummed softly as she nestled further into his chest.

When they were in the thick of it, it had been so hard to see a way out. To believe they’d be okay or ever have a shot at actually being together. To believe there would be an end to the virus or that there was any chance she could get better. 

Sometimes those dark days, when all hope seemed lost, felt like nothing more than a distant nightmare. But Dean refused to let himself forget. Maybe it was morbid, but every moment with her felt a little bit sweeter when he reminded himself of how grim those days had been and of everything they’d had to overcome. When he remembered everything she’d had to endure.

It was honestly a miracle that he was lucky enough to hold her in his arms like this. Everyone had asked him on numerous occasions if he’d done something, but even he didn’t have an explanation. He really didn’t care whether it was faith or something supernatural or even just one of life’s unexplained mysteries-- all that mattered was that she was healthy and alive. 

So he kept the memories of those days close and promised himself he’d never take the time he had with her for granted. They had made it through one of the darkest times in either of their lives and he had no doubt they’d face more in the future. But, with her by his side, he had faith they’d find a way to make it through those days too.

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it all feels to me

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it feels at six feet

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[the-lonely-tree-original]

Hello Once More (Killua x Gon)

Summary: Sometime after their separation, Killua and Gon meet once more. But being on the run from Illumi is hard, and Killua’s gone through measures to make sure people wouldn’t recognize him, even Gon.

***

It was a masquerade dance. One with bright colors and lavish decorations and everything expected from one of the richest hunters in the world. People were dressed in sharp, cleanly pressed suits and long, expert-woven gowns. Suits and dresses were fatuous, however, to the ornate masks that sat upon the guests’ heads. Some were embroidered with the thread of their homeland, others with precious jewels. Each hid a joyful face under the decorated material.

A boy of black hair and blue eyes found himself wearing one of these masks, a crystalline blue sort of color with white beads in a seemingly erratic pattern. His brand new suit became rumpled as he was zipped around disgruntled hunters and their companions by the firm hand of his little sister.

“Hey! Hey, Stop!”

The girl did end up stopping and turned around, a bright smile spreading across her youthful face. “Onii-chan, stop complaining. You promised you would enjoy this for me.”

Killua let out a long suffering sigh, the corners of his mouth eventually molding their way into a quirky smile as well. “I was enjoying it. I was enjoying watching you dance from the sidelines. I can continue to enjoy it from there.”

“Not on my watch. I’m not letting you leave this floor until you’ve danced at least once.” Alluka accentuated her point by giving her dress a little twirl, the movement drawing attention from prying eyes around the room. If Killua’s outfit was extravagant, then Alluka’s was downright ostentatious, the pink folds of her dress covered by a sheer golden sash, making it seem as if she had been wrapped in a glittering sunrise. She wore white, pristine gloves on her hands and brown woven flats on her feet. What she lacked in jewelry, her hair made up for. Long, shing black strands were curled into tight curls that rested on the top of her head in a flowery bun, two loose coils intertwined with golden thread and the beads she and Nanika were so fond of sat upon her chest.

Killua let himself be dragged off, only because he didn’t want anyone to try anything on his baby sister, but someone else had other plans in mind.

“Excuse me!”

Killua whirled around at the voice. The warm and pleasant voice. The achingly familiar voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I steal this dance?”

He may have been wearing different clothes and had a mask covering half of his face, but that was Gon. He knew it was. Killua had recognized it from the voice, the charming and comforting voice. Staring at him now, even if his hair had been dyed a new color and his voice had gone a tone deeper like Killua’s had, those honey-brown eyes would have been unforgettable. Keeping his hair a black-green color and only reaching a few inches taller? The familiarity was uncanny.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Killua stood aside. No matter how much he wanted to throw off his mask and greet his friend in a hug, he couldn’t. There was no telling what connections his brother had. If he revealed himself here, it would only be seconds before he was seized and dragged home. Gon had asked his sister to dance. He could sit back down and watch from afar once more. She’d be safe in his hands. And, if Killua was being honest with himself, it would hurt a little less too.

Gon, precious, radiant Gon, reached his hand to his neck in a nervous gesture. “So, uhm… is that a no?”

Killua felt two hands in the small of his back, and suddenly found himself pressed against a firm body.

“It’s a yes,” Alluka’s voice rang out from behind. “Sorry about that, big brother’s just a little slow with people sometimes.”

“Hey-” Killua began, but cut himself short. Gon was smiling. It was a big, shining smile, and Killua found himself involuntarily relaxing just a little.

“Great! Thank you very much!” The words were directed towards his sister, and before he knew it, he’d been whisked away to the middle of the dance floor.

They adjusted themselves awkwardly, it being clear that neither of them had any experience dancing with another male. Eventually they found themselves in a position with Gon’s arms wrapped around Killua’s waist and the latter’s around Gon’s neck. Meeting each other at eye level, that sleight height difference Killua had once been so proud of now tied by the milimeter, Killua was able to get a good look at the mask. It was an earthy green, very simple compared to the ones he’d seen on everyone else. Killua amused himself with the realization that his best friend never escaped the colors of his youth, even while he stood before him in a black and white suit - though, Killua’s mask was of white and blues, so he couldn’t say much about himself either.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

The comment startled Killua, sending him reeling backwards with the embarrassed flush he’d thought he’d left behind.

“W-why would you say that?”

“Because they are.” Gon closed the distance between them and raised a hand to rest it on the side of his head, fingers absentmindedly flicking up black-dyed hair. “They’re really pretty. Like the color of the ocean on a clear day. Actually,” he paused here, an embarrassed flush making its way up his face for once, “they remind me of someone I know.”

“They do?” Killua leaned forward in interest. He knew that he was a big part of Gon’s life, even if the other never felt the same way that he felt about him, and he knew that he must have crossed Gon’s mind at least once, but the other boy had thought his eyes pretty. Did he dare hope…

“Yeah. He has eyes just like yours. Actually, I only really came to this party in the first place to find him. I thought I heard him earlier, but I guess I was wrong.” Gon’s voice faded into a disappointed tone at the end. A tone that he recognized in his own voice whenever he talked about his friend. Killua wanted to grab his shoulders. He wanted to grab his shoulders and shake them and scream, ‘I’m right here, you idiot’ till the sentence was ingrained in Gon’s mind. But he knew he couldn’t. Not when people could be watching. Not when they could take Alluka and him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, caught in between the line of meaning it and not. “I’m sure he’ll be here eventually.”

Gon looked at him, long and hard but not seeing. “I don’t know. It was a long shot anyways. He’s been off the maps for a while, so I don’t really know what I was expecting.”

Killua swallowed. This wasn’t Gon. Gon wasn’t sad like this. Gon was upbeat and positive and if he couldn’t be that, then he was a burning ball of anger waiting to explode. Gon wasn’t… resigned.

The former assassin changed the subject, hoping to change the mood to something somewhat lighter. “Oh, I see. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you ever ask me…”

“Ask you to dance?”

Killua nodded.

“Hmmmm... I don’t know. It was just a feeling… I think.”

“You think?”

“You remind me of my special person. That’s all.”

Special person. Special person. Did that mean Killua was his special person? Killua turned his head, looking around the room to find Alluka, to confirm if what he was hearing seeing was real.

Gon continued, oblivious to his internal strife. “You really do sound like him at times, you see. It’s like your voices are exactly the same… and then, and then they’re not.”

Killua knew that Gon was thick headed, to not have realized who he really was even with all these things he’d picked up on. To instead find him and think that he was nothing more than a similarity. Gon never mentioned who he was though, so maybe, maybe if he left a vague enough answer, he would be able to piece together everything without Killua having to reveal anything at all. 

“That’s why I asked you to dance. Cause I thought I heard him. I thought maybe you were him.” It was an honest answer, one that got straight to the point and didn’t waste time sugarcoating anything with meaningless compliments. But, if what he was saying was true, then that meant that Gon would have asked him to dance anyways. Because of who he was. Something about that realization sent his heart hammering in his ribs, giddy energy rising up inside him. “Even if you aren’t him… you look enough like him that I still want to be with you. For this dance.”

There was silence then, the only noise being the crowd’s amicable chatter and slow music flowing from the performance upstage.

“If I’m being honest,” Killua began, “You remind me of someone special to me too.”

“I do?”

Their roles were reversed. This time it was Gon with the hopeful and curious tone to his voice and Killua with resignation in his, only that Killua was completely aware of who the stranger really was.

“Yeah. He means a lot to me. He was the person who taught me to let other people in and to care about them in return. I think it’s safe to say that he was my first friend.”

Something of an understanding was beginning to flicker in Gon’s eyes, and Killua smiled at the slow process of him putting the dots together. Before Gon could reach complete clarity, before he could open his mouth and shout his name to the crowd, Killua closed the distance between their faces and connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

Not even a year ago, even with Gon by his side professing their friendship everyday, could Killua have ever done this before. Mortification wouldn’t even have the chance to reach him because the kiss would have never happened. He’d never had the self-worth to believe something good could come out of a reckless and selfish decision like that.

Their journey together and the distance between them had changed him, though. And now with his lips caught in a bruising force against Gon’s, the taste of chocolate and citrus blending together on their tongues, Killua couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision.

Their dancing had slowed to a stop, and instead they stood, molded into each other with their arms intertwined on each other's hips, making up for all the time they’d missed.

I’m sorry.

I missed you.

I love you.

When their breath had run out and their legs turned weak, the kiss broke off. The two boys separated and stared, breathless, into eachothers’ eyes. Gon closed the gap a second time, not to go for another kiss, but to rest their foreheads together. The gesture was so childish and sweet and so like Gon that Killua found himself bearing a true, beaming smile for the first time that evening.

“Killu-” Gon began, but before he could even finish the word, Killua interrupted with words of his own.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gon.”

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