Tumgik
#thank you to everybody who suggested characters for me!
mypoisonedvine · 8 months
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || dark!jonathan crane x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || since you're the only one of his coworkers at arkham who doesn't seem to be intimidated by his intelligence, jonathan decides it's time he finds out what does scare you... and how he can embody it. unfortunately for you, turning into your greatest nightmare doesn't prove very difficult for him.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || EXTREME AND EXPLICIT NONCON (18+ only and please proceed with caution), drugging and kidnapping, paralysis, traumatized reader, forced orgasms/overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, choking, slapping, unprotected sex/breeding, misogyny, jonathan is very much in character which means he is incredibly evil and has incel vibes (I know y'all are not about to get mad at me for writing a villain being a villain and not uwu babifying him...)
Tumblr media
When you interrupted and corrected your colleague, Dr. Crane, about the correct combination of pharmaceuticals for a certain schizophrenic patient in the asylum who happened to have diabetes, you thought nothing of it.  After all, the whole point of staff meetings was to discuss and debate these things, and you weren’t about to let him damn-near poison a patient by giving him something that would interfere with his insulin.  You weren’t trying to be snarky about it, but you did sort of make a joke about how dangerous his suggestion was— and you didn’t notice the way Jonathan’s nostrils flared and jaw tightened when some others chuckled at what you said.
When you received an email from your therapist’s office informing you that there was evidence of a break-in in her building, but that the police were unable to officially determine if confidential client files were compromised, you thought nothing of it.  It was a big complex, these things happen, and you knew from being a clinician yourself how tricky the laws could be surrounding that stuff: she had to email you, legally, if there was any chance your file could’ve been accessed, and that didn’t mean you had any reason to fear your private therapy session notes had been read.  Besides, who would want to read about you and your boring life, diving into your mundane hopes and fears and daily stresses?
And when Crane came into the office with tea for you, you thought nothing of it.  Sure, you seemed surprised when he popped into your office with cups in hand— you asked him why he had two cups of tea, assuming they were both for himself, and he laughed.  Just that was out of character, he wasn’t much of a chucklehead or anything.  “Green tea, right?  With lime and honey?” he asked, setting one cup down for you.  You were still taken aback, but you had to admit defeat.
“Yeah,” you said, taking the cup as he sat down across the desk from you.  “Yeah, that’s my order— I didn’t know you drank tea.”
“Sometimes,” he informed you, hoping his poker face was holding up as he watched you take a sip.  He couldn’t help but stare at your lips wrapping around the little hole in the lid, the print of berry-red your lipstick left behind.  His heart was racing already, more than he expected.
When you finished the first sip, you smiled at him and let out a small, nervous laugh.  “Thank you,” you finally said.  So, yes, even though you clearly noticed this was slightly odd behavior, you thought nothing of drinking the tea.  That was one thing he hated about you: the thoughtlessness.  You didn’t seem to second-guess yourself much, if anything you were a little on the cocky side.  He found it so irritating— that confidence.  Sure, you were smart and you deserved to take yourself somewhat seriously, but the way you walked around this place— the way you ignored him so easily, or spoke over him if you wanted to, or ignored his suggestions when he gave them… you were a bitch, basically.  You clearly thought you were better than him— better than everybody else— for no reason at all.  Just because you were pretty and had a good job you thought you could get away with anything, surely; pretty girls always think that way.
He made casual conversation with you as you sipped the tea, asking questions he already knew the answer to, hoping to catch you in a lie.  For the most part, your stories matched up with what he’d learned from that file.  But, you left out the gory details— you left out the best parts, really.
You mentioned where you went to medical school and that you transferred mid-way through due to ‘stress’, but you didn’t elaborate on what really happened to you.  You mentioned having your own therapist— something you said passionately that every client-facing mental health professional should have— but left out what you were actually being treated for, not to mention the PTSD diagnosis.
He had to hide his smirk behind the paper cup every time you seemed to lose your train of thought— it wasn’t like you, so focused and determined all the time.  No, it was the drugs finally kicking in.  You went for bigger gulps of tea each time your eyes looked heavier, hoping the caffeine would work— but the trace caffeine in your green tea was nothing compared to what he’d added.
You tried to warn him that you were suddenly not feel up to par— that he needed to leave, and you might try to wake yourself up— but he just sat and waited.  He watched you try to get up, and lose your balance.  He watched you stumble, trip, and ultimately fall onto the floor limply.  He watched your eyes flutter shut and the final ounce of energy to fight it fade; he quietly took a final sip of his tea.
~
You woke up on the floor.  You could barely feel it beneath you, but you knew it was the floor— it was cold, and hard.  And you were looking up at the dark ceiling, at the fan spinning at the lowest speed; so you were definitely on the floor.
Jonathan was standing above you, not too far off, flipping through papers.  You couldn’t move— no matter how hard you fought to, you couldn’t.  You barely managed to turn your head, but it felt more like it rolled to the side on its own.  You tried to yell for Dr. Crane’s attention, for help, for him to explain what happened to you, but even your mouth couldn’t move.  The best you could do was breathe harder— actually, you were pretty sure your body was trying to hyperventilate, but you were too incapacitated to even have a proper panic attack.
He heard you, though; he looked away from the papers and grinned down at you.  “Comfortable down there?”
You started to put together a few things.  One, that the last thing you remembered was being in your office, and now you were in your apartment.  Two, that those papers were photoscans of chart notes— obviously you couldn’t make out the words from here, but the format gave away that it must have to do with a patient.
And three, that Crane was neither surprised that you were paralyzed on the floor, nor interested in helping you.
He half-rolled the papers in one hand and playfully hit the other hand’s palm with them.  “These have been quite interesting… revealing, to say the least,” he informed you, like it was a compliment— something you should be proud to hear.  “You’re quite the enigma, Doc!”
He sat down beside you on the floor, leaning on his hand first to find his balance with a little sigh; he seemed amused, actually, and your heart began to race.
As he started to read aloud from the page in front of him, you felt nauseous.  He was reading patient data, describing a client who was receiving individual counseling— or that’s what the CPT code indicated, at least.  As he listed the client’s demographic data— age, race, gender, height, weight— it became eerily obvious what he was doing.  You refused to believe it until he went on: “Client was recommended to Dr. Min Zhang for individual therapy concerning PTSD following sexual trauma.”
Your therapist.  This was a file he’d copied, which belonged to your therapist.  And it was obvious whose file it was.
As you tried with all your might to scream, Jonathan flipped a few pages ahead.
“Session fourteen, eleventh of June,” he continued.  “Client expressed frustration with an increased recurrence of nightmares and flashbacks to her assault.  Up until now, she has struggled to explain what triggers her anxiety without having to actually elaborate on the circumstances of the event.”
He stopped, but you weren’t exactly relieved.  In fact, you were horrified.  He had a little grin on his face when he looked at you, but you could finally see the rage in his eyes.  Suddenly, you realized how long it had been there.  You had sort of picked up on it before, the resentment he had towards you— and it didn’t take a Freudian expert to figure out that he was threatened by you, especially as a man.  He didn’t respond well to feeling upstaged and he clearly had an issue with women.  Maybe not that issue— he was good-looking and well-off, he didn’t need to have any issues with women if he didn’t want to— but an issue nonetheless.  
“Now,” he added, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before, “client states she is ready to describe the incident in full detail.”
He set the papers aside for a second, leaning over you and almost looking… giddy, really.
“I won’t read you the rest, I’ve already pretty much memorized what goes on from there.  It was fascinating— seeing how what happened that night connected to the fears you still have today… the nightmares.  You said that you still feel sick at the smell of alcohol, you still don’t like to wear pinstripe skirts, and even just the wrong few words can make you feel like you’re right back there where it happened— on the floor of your apartment.”
All you could do was look up at him, and you felt your eyes get hot as they welled with tears.
“Not this apartment, obviously— the one by your old school,” Jonathan sighed, “but this will have to do.  And the smell of alcohol, well, I wouldn’t want to let anything cloud my experience— but I dabbed a little gin on my wrists, what do you think?”
He held his hand up by your face, caressing your cheek for a second, and you imagined yourself pulling away— turning your head and shrugging his touch off of you with a grimace.  But nothing happened, of course, and you were entirely helpless as the acidic stench of liquor became apparent.  You couldn’t give your typical outward reaction of a frown, but inside, you felt just the same as always: your stomach twisted, your heart pounded, your head swirled.
“Smell is such a… primal trigger of memory, isn’t it?” he mused, watching your face reverently.  “I can see it in your eyes, it’s affecting you even more than I expected.  You act so fearless at work— but I knew you must have been overcompensating.  God, you’re terrified— I would say you’re paralyzed, but, well… it would be too literal, I think.”
You knew that Crane studied fear and phobias, even trauma occasionally, as a personal interest within the field.  It was normal to have a favorite subtopic, and to conduct related research on it— but obviously, this was far from normal, this was absolutely deranged.  You knew that part of this was vengeance, in his own mind at least, but you didn't feel like you'd done anything actually wrong to him.  And the rest of it, well, it seemed like some twisted experiment, but if you were able to speak you would've tried to remind him that this 'research' wasn't going to get him published or advance his career— but of course, that wasn't what he wanted.  He just wanted to humiliate you.
“I was worried I didn’t have enough to work with, you know,” he added.  “I knew I couldn’t get you to where it happened, if I could even figure it out since you never filed that police report… and the skirt, well, I considered it.  It sounded pretty exciting to dress you up like the night it happened— what I would give to know everything you were wearing that night, but I don’t have a ton to work with.  Obviously, you don’t own any pinstripe skirts anymore, so I would’ve had to buy one… and I wasn’t quite ready for the looks I’d get shopping at Macy’s, so…”
Carefully, he reached up to take off his glasses, folding them and setting them down on your coffee table.
“You know how detail-oriented I am— I mean, I went to all this, didn’t I?” He continued, reaching down and brushing his fingers for a moment over your leg.  It was so instinctive to pull away that it took you a moment to realize you hadn’t… because of course, you couldn’t.  “But it’s impossible to recreate it all perfectly.  Clearly, I don’t need to— if only you could see it, Doc, you look… you look so weak.  Pathetic.”
Since the only thing you could do was look around, you tried to look away— to not give him the satisfaction of seeing the terror in your eyes.  He grabbed your face and turned it until you looked up at him.  
“Did you think you’d be able to face your greatest fear?  Perhaps with a bit more dignity?” he mused.  He looked different without the glasses on; and, ironically, you felt like he could see you even better now.
It was obvious that he enjoyed lording complete power over you, but a quick glance down to his suit trousers made it clear just how much he enjoyed it.  You quickly darted your gaze away, but it was too late; he started to climb on top of you, staring at your face uncomfortably close, and worked on opening his belt and fly.
“Fear rules us all, doesn’t it?  Everything you did, it was guided by your fear that it would— well, why paraphrase?  Let me find exactly how you put it…”
He picked up the papers again quickly, licking his thumb and flipping around until he found the right entry.
“Yes,” he said, “here it is: client states she lives in almost constant fear that it will happen again.”
So that's what this was: his disturbed take on exposure therapy.
As he tossed the copied charts away for the last time and reached up under your skirt, he leaned down and whispered in your ear— and you couldn’t even flinch from the harsh sounds of his words.  “It took you over fifty sessions to admit it,” he recalled, “to tell her the whole truth.  Not just what he did to you… what you did.”
With a small growl, he yanked your panties down your legs and rubbed your thighs with far too much aggression, such that you expected bruises from his hands— just like the ones you’d had before.
“You said he made you do it,” he continued, “you couldn’t help it, right?  But you said nothing’s ever felt like that— that you’d never had such a powerful orgasm.”
You would’ve vomited, except that that, too, requires your muscles to not be paralyzed.  Rolling your skirt up and spreading your legs, he positioned himself right between them, rubbing his cock's leaking head around your hole.
“Your greatest fear isn’t really that it’ll happen again, is it?” Jonathan taunted.  “You’re afraid someone’s going to find out how much you liked it.”
With that, he punched his hips forward and speared you on his cock.
It had been years since you'd had anything inside you, even your own fingers.  You couldn't even remember if being penetrated hurt like this during your assault, and you would've sworn before that you remembered every detail perfectly.  But this was so real, not a memory or a nightmare.  You couldn't cry out from the sting.
"God, it's tight," he groaned, "I bet you weren't this tight when it happened— you'd been whoring around, hadn't you?  Letting all kinds of guys use you… just ran into the wrong one and got your drink spiked.  But now…"
He hissed through his teeth, tightening his grip on your hip.  
"Now it's all mine, isn't it?"
Inside, you were screaming and kicking and pleading for mercy.  You imagined you would be angry and violent, beat him to death with your heel or something, but you wondered if you'd be forced to bargain with him— apologize for whatever you did to upset him, promise you wouldn't tell a soul about this as long as he left you alone.  But either way, it didn't matter… on the outside, you were useless, laying there and letting him use you.
"What made you come so much before?  Did he have a big cock, is that it?” he asked with a snarl.  “Did he know exactly how to touch you?  Or was it just that you’d been craving it, needed it really rough to get off properly?  Is that why you came while he raped you?”
It was a biological response, you told yourself like you had over and over, I couldn't help it, it wasn't my fault, it was a biological response— it wasn't my fault, I didn't like it, it was a biological response.
“I think I know what it is,” he mused, looking down at you with heavy eyes and almost purring as he watched your limp form bounce on the floor.  “I think you wanted to be put in your place.  You act so liberated, so empowered— but you’re a creature of instinct, like anything else.  You need someone to remind you how weak you are, I know, fuck, I know you do…”
He fucked you just a bit faster, grunting and tightening his fist on the floor by your head.
“You haven’t been able to have an orgasm at all, since then,” he stated— almost making it like a question, with the way he said it, but he obviously already knew it was true.  He sounded shockingly sympathetic— not even pitying, not condescending, for once.  “I’m sure for a while you didn’t even try, afraid it would remind you— but that’s the thing, you can’t finish unless you’re reminded.”
You almost surprised yourself when you heard a whine come from your throat; he smiled proudly.
"It's wearing off, I think," he noticed.  "I only gave you a small dose.  Can you move at all?  Can you beg me to stop?"
You opened your mouth to try to say everything you'd wanted to since you awoke, but all that came out was a moan.  You hated yourself for that, and he laughed happily.
"You don't want me to stop," he decided.  "Feels too good?"
I fucking hate you, you wanted to scream, you sick son of a bitch, I fucking hate you—
"You didn't say it outright, but he must have said something to you— during, maybe after," Jonathan theorized.  "You didn't say what it was, but you told your therapist about having a vivid flashback after being accosted by a delusional homeless man on the street.  He called you a bitch, seemingly for no reason… is that what your rapist said to you?  Did he say you were a stuck-up little bitch?"
As burning hot tears striped your temples, you curled your fingers over and over— maybe you could move your arms if you really tried…
"He was fucking right about you.  You think you're so much fucking better than everyone else," he growled.  "You think you're so fucking smart, and special.  But you're no fucking different, you're nothing—"
You whined and reached up, weakly trying to push him off of you, but all you could do was limply grasp at his shoulders.
"Nothing but a stupid—" he grunted the word as he slammed himself into you— "fucking—" he did it again— "bitch."
"No!" you finally heard yourself sob, clutching a weak fistful of his white shirt, but he grabbed your hands and shoved them back down to the floor.
“God,” he choked, holding your wrists tightly until you whined, “it’s so much better when you can fight— fuck, it’s so much better.  Keep struggling if you want, Doc, you’re still too weak for me…”
Your legs moved a little, but they felt heavy.  Sensation was only just beginning to return to them, like pins and needles, and it stung; you winced as you managed to squirm a bit beneath him.
"That's it," he praised, "this is probably just how you did it before.  Too drunk and too desperate for cock to really do much, but trying so hard to look like you hate it— I understand, you don't want anyone to know that you need this.  They'd never look at you the same again: the smart, accomplished psychiatrist who likes getting treated like fuckmeat.  What would they think of you if they knew?"
"No…" you said again, too weak and traumatized to say much else— but it wasn't what he said that made you say no, it was the pulse of pleasure inside your cunt.  He must have felt it, and if he didn't, he surely felt the next; yes, he did, because he smiled down at you excitedly.
"It's happening, isn't it?  You're gonna come."
He held on tight to one of your legs, gripping your thigh and staring uncomfortably into your eyes as he kept going— faster and rougher with each thrust.  You choked on your throat, trying to stop any part of this, but the pleasure was undeniable; it still hurt, yes, and you still felt so angry and sick and numb, but something familiar and desperate was tightening in your gut.  It’d been so long since anyone touched you… you’d forgotten how natural it could feel, even when it was so horrible.
"I read it in your file, but I still couldn't really believe it,” he laughed quietly, “I couldn't believe you came over and over while being raped— but here you are, wow, look at you… you’re so beautiful when you’re scared.”
A long, heavy sigh fell from your lips; your eyes got heavier, and your whole body seemed to relax— in a way totally different from the medication-induced paralysis.
He cooed at you, seeming oddly proud, and you were oddly compliant as he picked you up and pulled you into his lap.
Tears streamed across your cheeks as he held you close, one hand around your back while the other moved your hips against his.  “There you go— come for me, I wanna feel it— another one, baby, for me…”
It wasn’t much longer before another one came— from what you remembered, it was a lot like the first time, this terribly wonderful way your body protected itself from the trauma by immersing you in pleasure.  Of course, Jonathan helped you along by rubbing your clit with his thumb, excited to watch you surrender to ecstasy even when you begged him to just stop and leave you alone.
Of course, your protests were less and less believable as more of your strength and mobility returned— you could’ve tried harder to get away, but instead you found your hips rocking with his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.  No, you didn’t want this— you never wanted this— but you found the way he spoke to you impossibly comforting even while it was still deeply upsetting.  “Tell me about the nightmares, darling,” he whispered— some impossible mix of pleading and ordering.
“A-almost every night,” you whimpered.  “I… I got used to it, but I used to… I used to wake up and think I was still…”
"They felt so real, hm?" he presumed, and you nodded.  “It’s real now… you don’t have to be afraid of the dreams anymore, it’s all real— I’m right here.”
You couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare or comfort you; he pet your hair, clinging to you tightly, kissing your face and neck along the lines of the tears soaking your skin.  
You felt his grin against your cheek when another wavering moan echoed in your chest, and he laid you back on the floor to hover over you again.  “Was that your third one, already?” he noticed.  “This is so much easier than I thought… you needed this so badly, you poor girl.”
A quick wave of panic settled over you when his hand wrapped around your neck.  “W-wait,” you pleaded instantly, as if you really feared he would just strangle you to death right then and there.  Your hands, still weak and tingly, reached up to his arm, and you felt his cock throb inside you— of course that was what he wanted, to see you react in fear again.  So many other emotions were at play right now, even some you didn’t know existed (like whatever the word would be for longing for the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, or feeling like the only person you can trust is the person hurting you the most), but fear was still going to rule it all as long as he had any say.
"How many times did you come before?" he demanded to know, nostrils flaring as he fucked you harder.  "Tell me how many times you came when he raped you."
"I— I don't—" you stammered.
"Say it," he ordered.
"I— I don't know!" you yelped, whimpers falling to silence as he tightened his grip on your neck. 
"You don't fucking know?" he snarled at you, watching you fight for air.  You clawed at his shirt, his wrist, tried to pry his fingers away, but he just sneered as he stared at your numbing face.  "You don't know how many times you creamed on your rapist's cock?  Bullshit."
"I—" you gasped when he let go of your throat, "I lost count…"
He went from livid to ecstatic in a second, laughing proudly and dipping down to kiss your neck passionately.  "Good girl," he mumbled against your skin, fucking you even faster.  "That's what you need to do for me now— come for me until you lose count."
“I— I can’t,” you choked, grabbing at his shoulders as he seemed to overwhelm you just by pressing his weight down on top of you.  “I’m sorry— you… you proved your point, I— I just need a break—”
Even though the drug he’d injected you with was wearing off, you realized you were just as limp and helpless as before… after all, some of the most powerful chemicals come inside the body.  You didn’t even fight it when he put his hand over your mouth, spitting out a quiet but hateful shut up and continuing with his quick and forceful thrusts into you.  
He kept you conscious and lucid by occasionally hitting or choking you, talking to you, once or twice even ordering you to kiss him.  Like you mean it, he’d said, slapping you as punishment for doing it wrong.  Truth be told, you hadn’t kissed anyone in so long that you’d really been trying your best the first time.  Sometimes he told you to beg him for more— or to beg him to get off of you— and yet he would usually punish you for speaking at all.  He was completely unpredictable, and you figured that was part of the plan: take away any shred of control you might try to get by making it impossible to follow his rules.  Keep you confused and crying, keep you fearful, keep you obedient.
But, he did seem to enjoy when you could only just choke out a broken please.  He laughed at you, pinching your sore clit in response until you sobbed and tried to jerk your hips away.  “‘Please’ what, honey?  You mean, ‘please keep fucking me, Doctor Crane, you’ll make me come again?’” he taunted.  “Something like that?”
“Please… please,” you swallowed around your whines, “please just… finish, and go…”
“Oh,” he purred, “you want me to come?”
You’d specifically not phrased it that way, but, yes, that was what you were asking for.  You weren’t sure what else he wanted from you now, it felt like he’d drained you of everything.
“You can just say that, baby— you wanna make me come?” he grinned, moving in closer for a kiss, but you turned your head away.  He grabbed your jaw again and stared at you with an angry glare.  “This isn’t about me.  This is what you wanted.  This is what you fucking wanted!”
As he screamed in your face, you sobbed and tried to look away again, but he hit you hard on the face and covered your mouth before the cry of agony could come out.  
“This is what you wanted, right?” he insisted again, forcing your head to nod with his clammy, iron-tight grip.  “Uh huh— and you wanna make me come, don’t you?  You understand now that’s all you’re good for.”
As sick as it was, you felt yourself fall into another orgasm when he said that; your eyes rolled back a bit, and for a moment you felt even hotter between your legs.
“I think, if you beg me to come, maybe I will,” he offered— bargaining with you, probably another way to trick you into clamoring for some control only to yank it away.  Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a deal.
“Please,” you blurted out the second he released your mouth from under his hand; when you blinked the tears from your eyes, you saw him clearly again and realized how completely different he looked from the arrogant-but-generally-unassuming man you knew from work.  His hair was fallen beside his face, and he was close enough that the ends were tickling your forehead.  His eyes were bloodshot, crazed, and dark.  His lips, always full and plush but usually in a tight frown or neutral look of condescending boredom, were curled around the teeth he bared at you.  He looked animalistic, for a man typically so measured.  Only he could do something so animalistic in a way that required such intellect, foresight, and contemplation— using his superhuman skills to treat you in a subhuman manner.  You realized that you were really seeing him for the first time— the person you’d known before was the mask.  This was something horribly freeing for him; and you were having a much easier time analyzing and thinking about him to distract from how sickly freeing this experience was becoming for you.  “Please, Jonathan—”
“Doctor Crane,” he corrected.  Apparently this wasn’t enough to put you on a first name basis…
“Doctor Crane,” you repeated, “please… come.  I want… I want you to come.”
“Hmm,” he considered, and you worried he’d decide he was unimpressed with your effort and hurt you again— but, he did maybe the only thing worse.  “Okay,” he agreed, “if it’s so important to you.”
Just when you shut your eyes tight and hoped you could just get through this— just hold on for a few more minutes at most and then this would be over and done with— he whispered in your ear that he needed you to keep your eyes open if he was going to finish.  
Though, when you obeyed, he purred at you and let his own eyes flutter shut for just a moment.  For once, he actually seemed affected by all this physically and not just psychosexually.  “I think I’ll come inside, like he did before,” Crane decided with a groan when he opened his eyes, biting his lip for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I didn’t see any birth control in your listed medications on chart… I guess we’ll find out if you have a fear of getting pregnant.”
"Jonathan— don't," you whimpered.  "Please, don't do that—"
"Shh," he soothed, petting the top of your head and laying his weight over you.  "Shh, it's alright.  I think you need to be filled with come… I think that might be the one thing that’ll get you to settle down, now just hold still.”
“I— please… please…” you began to beg again, but your words faded away as another wave of sensation washed over you— they started to blend together, like before, and you realized you were doing what he’d asked: you were losing count.
“Good girl,” he praised under his breath, “like that— fuck, I’m close.  Fuck!”
He held onto you tight— one hand on your thigh and the other on your neck as his thrusts sped to a desperately, impossibly fast pace.  You moaned— or cried, or yelled, or something— as he pushed just a little too deep and your toes curled in your heels.
“Uh huh,” he encouraged, “just one more while I come inside you— I think you can manage that, just one more good squeeze on my cock— oh, fuck, that’s it, yes, just like that…”
You stopped being able to understand what he was saying, but you heard the wavering groan that came a few moments later when his movements suddenly stopped.  He gasped and kept himself as far inside you as possible; you shuddered, blinking fresh tears out of your eyes, and felt paralyzed in an entirely new way as you laid under him, staring up at your ceiling, seeing how far the sun had set since it began— actually, it had started to rain, making it even more impossible to tell how much time had really passed.  Eventually, though, he took his head out from the crook of your neck and propped himself up enough to look down at you.  
Reaching to your coffee table, he fumbled his hand around until he found his glasses, and shakily put them back on.  “Well,” he grinned, still panting but seeming to be mostly back to himself (whoever that was).  “I never thought I’d meet someone who loves fear as much as I do.”
5K notes · View notes
sadprose-auroras · 6 months
Text
Strings Attached - Hazel Callahan x reader
Tumblr media
Hey loves!! I think we're learning I'm incapable of writing anything that isn't friends to lovers lol. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
Content: smut, oral, fingering, awkwardness but cuteness, cursing. (18+ ONLY) - all characters are over 18.
Summary: Hazel grows jealous of PJ and Josie's sexual encounters since creating fight club. So the two of you decide to strike a deal. No strings attached. Word Count: 4.2k
By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming you are 18+.
“You know what? I’m kind of jealous.”
“Huh?” You looked up from the book you were reading, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You looked at your friend Hazel who was sitting next to you, scribbling in a notebook. She jutted her chin out, and you looked to see where she was indicating. On the football field in front of the bleachers you were sitting on, cheer practise was happening, and everybody had dispersed for a drink break. Your friends, Brittany and Isabel were cheerleaders, and their respective girlfriends, PJ and Josie, were down there too. Isabel and Josie were standing close together, talking and giggling, Isabel’s hand on Josie’s waist. Meanwhile, Brittany and PJ were off to the side of the group, full-on making out, tongues and all. You laughed to yourself at their lack of subtlety, but unable to stop yourself from blushing. You’d certainly never kissed anyone like that.
“You’re jealous cause you wanna make out with PJ? Or Brittany?” you teased. Hazel smiled and flushed, clicking her pen nervously.
“Absolutely not. I just mean…” she sighed. “I guess I’m jealous that they got what they wanted out of fight club. I know it was fucked, but they wanted sex with cheerleaders, you know? And they got it,” she shrugged.
“What are you saying, you want to have sex with a cheerleader? I mean, I’m sure somebody would want to, you’re gorgeous,” you remarked, putting your book down, crossing your legs and facing Hazel. She smiled shyly, shaking her head ever so slightly.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. It was adorable. “But not necessarily. Just with anyone, would be nice. Don’t you feel like we’re missing out? We should be out there, dating, fucking-“ she stopped suddenly, going bright red. “I mean, not us, together, you and me, but like, separately, as individuals, with other people-“ she babbled, hands flailing around, and you couldn’t stop the next words out of your mouth, heart beating like crazy at Hazel’s words. You knew you were toeing the line of your completely platonic friendship, but you found yourself not caring. She was undeniably attractive, and you were incredibly horny.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Having sex with you, that is. If that’s something that you’d be interested in.” You spoke quickly, then gnawed at your lip nervously. There was no turning back now. Your heart was in your throat.
“Oh. Oh,” was all Hazel managed to say, and you suddenly had an impending feeling. You shouldn’t have said anything, and you were mortified, and you were going to take it all back, no, say that you were joking, although, would she believe you, and-
“I wouldn’t be opposed either,” Hazel said, interrupting your train of thought. Your back straightened. Oh, shit.
“Wait, really? Because it was only a suggestion, I just think that- well- maybe we could get it over with, y’know? We’re both horny, and we’re friends, and we’re comfortable with each other. It could be like… no strings attached.” You shrugged.
“No strings attached,” Hazel agreed, holding her hand out for you to shake. You laughed softly, gripping her hand and giving it a gentle shake, trying to ignore how sweaty your hand was.
------------------------------------------------------------
Hazel was a serial organiser. Always had been. And this was no exception. So, she planned the whole thing out. It would be at your house, Friday night, because your parents were away for the weekend. That way, you could go back to yours after school Friday and sleep in Saturday morning. It was all very clinical, methodical, planned out. Which is the way that it should be… right? It’s not like this was real. You were just… practicing. Practicing for when the real thing came along for both of you. That’s all it was.
That Friday was the longest day of your life. First, the morning consisted of you getting changed about five times, before deciding on an outfit. A low-cut tank top and your favourite jeans that you knew made your ass look good. Once you got to school, the nerves didn’t subside, they only got worse. Especially when at lunchtime, you sat in your usual spot with PJ, Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and Hazel. You couldn’t stop blushing and fidgeting, and everything Hazel said that was remotely amusing made you giggle like a little kid. Act normal, you kept scolding yourself. But it was so hard when Hazel was looking so good and you just kept picturing how it might go later. It was one thing to fantasize but it was another entirely to know you were actually going to be having sex with the girl sitting next to you that very same day.
At the end of your final period, you practically ran out of the door as the bell was ringing, rushing to Hazel’s locker to meet her. She wasn’t there yet, and you stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the strap of your bag, nervously rocking back and forth on your feet. When you saw her walking towards you down the hallway amid the crowd, smiling at you, you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hey,” she said as she approached you, and, surprisingly, your nerves subsided slightly. The way she bounded over to you was so endearing. You were almost tempted to just grab her and kiss her there and then.
“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded, leading you out to the carpark to her car.
Neither of you spoke too much on the drive, unsure of what to say to each other. It wasn’t exactly like any other Friday night where you would hang out, watch movies on opposite ends of the couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between you, and part ways with a friendly fist bump. You were also not sure if it was one-sided, but you swore you could already feel the sexual tension in the air. Hazel occasionally glanced over in your direction, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. As nervous as you were, you were mostly excited.
“Here we are,” she said when you pulled up to her driveway. You unclicked your seatbelt, grabbed your bag, and followed her inside. She opened the door for you, holding it open while you walked in. You thanked her, chuckling at her cuteness.
“Do you want a snack? I have cookies,” she opened the pantry, holding up the box proudly. You grinned, nodding.
“Who would say no to that?” you laughed, following her up the stairs to her bedroom. You placed your bag down and kicked your shoes off, sitting on her bed cross-legged while she did the same. You both took a cookie, eating in silence. You could feel your heart beating in your ears.
“Sorry I’m being so awkward,” Hazel said, readjusting so she was a little closer to you. “I’m just nervous.” The tips of her ears were pink, and all you wanted to do was kiss them.
“Me too,” you reassured, reaching out to place your hand on top of hers, and she smiled gratefully. “Think of it this way, it would be weird if we weren’t a little nervous.” She nodded in agreement.
“That’s true,” she said, looking down at your hands, which you were basically holding at this stage. She looked up at you, and you fought the urge to swoon. “I’m more nervous because you’re, well-“ she gestured towards you vaguely.
“I’m what?” you laughed, completely unsure what she meant. She stood up, and you raised an eyebrow, following suit.
“You’re like-“ she used her hands to gesture again, as if she was mimicking curves. You flushed, mouth dropping open. “You’re really hot,” she finally said, and your tummy flipped.
“You think I’m hot?” you asked teasingly, crossing your arms.
“Yeah, are you kidding me?”
“Well, I think you’re really hot too. Like, so attractive.”
“Really?” she asked. As if she was genuinely surprised. As if she walked around all the time looking like that completely blissfully ignorant. It was kind of hard to believe.
“Um, absolutely,” you replied with certainty. “Now that we’ve established we’re attracted to each other…” you trailed off.
“Now what?” Hazel asked, chuckling nervously.
“Maybe we could just start with kissing?” you suggested, moving a step closer to Hazel. You placed your hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze to reassure her.
“Yeah, that’s a good start,” she said breathlessly, placing her hands on your waist. You took a sharp intake of breath at the feeling, inwardly wondering how the hell you were going to keep it together later when even the slightest touch from Hazel made you feel dizzy with lust.
You both leaned in, shutting your eyes as your lips met. They slotted together, ever so softly at first, just testing the waters. You parted your lips slightly, kissing her a little deeper, and you were met with a positive response as Hazel wrapped her arms around you tighter, resting her hands in the small of your back and drawing circles with her thumbs. After a few moments, you both pulled away, breathless.
“Well done,” Hazel congratulated you, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re a great kisser.” You chuckled.
“You too. Really good. Can I kiss you again?” you asked, moving your hands up to gently cup the sides of her face. She nodded, leaning in yet again. It was deeper this time, as you both felt more confident. You gently introduced your tongue, and Hazel did the same, as she moaned instinctively into the kiss. This spurred you on; you had never heard a prettier sound. You ran a hand through her hair, as she moved her hands down to your ass, not squeezing, just resting there.
“Is this okay?” she asked against your lips.
“More than,” you murmured, kissing her again, already beginning to feel a throbbing between your thighs. Hazel gently squeezed, and you moaned into the kiss. You knew you were touch-starved, but this was insane. The way she was making you feel with every kiss, every touch, was ungodly.
“Hazel,” you breathed out, kissing her jaw.
“Mm?” she responded, voice catching in her throat. You smiled against her skin.
“Nothing, just like saying your name.”
“Say it again.” Her voice was dripping with need, and you decided then and there that you were going to do everything possible to get her to speak that way to you for as long as possible.
“Hazel,” you whispered, walking with her towards the bed. She sat down first, and you sat down on her lap, straddling her.
“Fuck,” she murmured, looking you up and down, hands resting on the swell of your ass. It was like she couldn’t decide where to look, trying to take everything in. And you were still fully clothed, only the strap of your tank top slipping off your shoulder to reveal your bra strap. She decided to take the opportunity to kiss your shoulder, and you tilted your head to the side, eyes fluttering with bliss. Her lips were so soft.
She fiddled with the bottom of your tank top rather awkwardly, leaving kisses at the base of your neck.
“Do you want to take it off?” you asked, biting your lip.
“Please,” she said breathlessly. You nodded, and she pulled the top over your head, tossing it aside, leaving you in the white lace bra you’d picked to wear specifically for this occasion. Your chest rose and fell in short breaths, and Hazel’s eyes glued to your tits weren’t helping. You decided to throw caution to the wind, and reached behind your back to undo your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders. Hazel’s eyes widened, taking you all in.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” she furrowed her brows, as if she couldn’t believe it. Her eyes darted up and down you, and your sudden burst of confidence was gone again, her nerves making you more nervous. You suddenly felt very exposed.
“Haze, it’s okay,” you whispered, cupping the side of her face. “It’s just me.” She gave you a gentle kiss, and your heart burst in your chest.
“Thank you,” she said softly, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes. “Do you want to take my top off?” she asked. It was so endearing, yet wildly sexy the way she asked. What was this girl doing to you?
“Fuck yes, I do,” you chuckled, as she lifted her arms up to help you pull of her t-shirt. You nibbled at your lip as you wordlessly reached behind her back to undo her bra, and she pushed it off her shoulders, then threw it aside, eyes never leaving yours. She was so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at her. It was like staring into the sun. But you couldn’t look away. Your bare chests pressing together only made the wetness pooling between your thighs more evident, and you briefly wondered if you had ever been so wet in your life.
“Can I?” Hazel asked, resting her lips just at the top of one of your tits. You nodded vigorously, running your fingers through her hair. She began leaving wet kisses, trailing down to your nipple. She took it in her mouth, and you gasped and arched your back. She swirled her tongue, before stopping way before you would have liked to show your other breast some attention. This time, she spent a little longer kissing, sucking, nibbling, paying attention to your reactions. She took your other breast in her hand, tweaking your nipple between two fingers.
“Hazel,” you groaned, shifting in her lap, grinding, trying to find some friction. She continued paying attention to your tits, as she began to attempt to undo your jeans. It was taking her a while, and you gave her a kiss on the top of her head, hoping to give her some reassurance.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she whispered, voice dripping with need, hands trembling as she fumbled at undoing the buttons. You frowned, gently placing your fingers under her chin to look up at you. She blinked, eyes wide, bottom lip pouting out slightly. Her eyes were like a sad puppy dog’s, and all you wanted to do was scream because how could somebody be that cute?
“Hey,” you reassured softly, “me neither.” You gave her a soft kiss. “And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s okay. Do you want to watch a movie instead?” Hazel immediately shook her head, hair falling in her eyes.
“No, no, no, I want to so badly, you have no idea,” she breathed out, hands moving to grip your waist. You inhaled sharply, instinctively shifting even closer. “I’m just worried I’m not gonna be any good.”
“If any of this has been an indication so far…” you trailed off, leaning down to pepper feather-light kisses from Hazel’s shoulder, up her neck, stopping at her ear. “You’ll be fucking amazing,” you whispered in her ear. Hazel gasped lightly, and you could feel the goosebumps rising on her skin. You smirked to yourself, her reactions giving you a major confidence boost.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Only if you want to,” you said, heart racing.
“I want to,” she reassured, affirming this by lifting you off your lap and laying you down. You grinned, her assertiveness in this action incredibly hot. You decided to help her out by pushing your pants off your legs, tossing them onto the floor. You were left in a plain pair of cotton panties, biting your lip when you noticed your wetness staining the front of them. Hazel’s eyes were wide, hands gripping your thighs.
“Shit, baby,” she muttered. You squirmed, heart exploding at the nickname. But you didn’t want to scare her, so you didn’t mention it. This was meant to be just friends helping each other out. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.
“Do you normally get this wet?” Hazel asked, genuinely curious. You shook your head vigorously, blushing.
“No, god no… this was all you,” you chuckled breathily. Hazel was a vision leaning over you, hands sliding to grip your hips, thumbs inching under the sides of your underwear making you inhale sharply. Her hair was mused, the chain necklace she was wearing swinging with every movement. She leant forward to kiss you, coming back to that safe space, and you happily accepted. You took the opportunity to move your hands to her tits, giving them a squeeze, then tweaking her nipples between your fingers. She moaned against your mouth, thumbs drawing circles right on that sensitive spot right at the crease of your thigh. She pulled away, moving down to kiss your stomach, stopping right at the top of your underwear for a moment.
She considered her next movements, before placing a feather-light kiss right on your clit through your soaked underwear. You inhaled sharply, instinctively bucking your hips. Hazel raised her eyebrows, as if she was surprised by your reaction. She began gently sucking and licking through your panties, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips. Hazel looked up at you the entire time, and you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. There was so much sincerity and vulnerability in her eyes, and it terrified you.
“Haze, please,” you exhaled, fingers finding her hair; not gripping, just holding. She got the message, and pulled your panties down your legs. They went flying as she threw them across the room, not looking away from you for a moment.
“You’re perfect,” she muttered into your skin, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs, absolutely leaving marks. She had a way of giving compliments that forced you to believe them; she never said anything she didn’t mean. Your heart melted. You couldn’t have been fonder of her in that moment.
“Hang on,” you said sitting up slightly, causing her to quickly pull away, clearly flustered.
“Shit, what is it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“No,” you interrupted, not necessarily wanting her to finish that sentence. “No, I just meant hang on for a second, I’m just gonna…” you retrieved a pillow, lifting your hips up to place it under your lower back, then spread your legs apart a little wider than before. Hazel inhaled sharply at the sight of you all wet and spread out for her. It’s all for you, you wanted to say. Only you. But you didn’t.
“There you go, shouldn’t be too hard on your neck now,” you smiled at her, and she chuckled in relief.
“Always so good to me,” she murmured, before attaching her lips to your bare clit, flicking her tongue. You gasped, hand flying back to her hair and gripping this time. When she said she didn’t know what she was doing? Bullshit.
“You’re-you’re s-so good to me,” you barely managed to choke out. “Oh fuck, Haze, that feels so good.”
“Yeah?” she whispered, clearly enjoying herself, which only turned you on more. She began alternating between licking up and down your slit, swirling her tongue around your entrance, and paying attention to your clit. Every time you moaned a little louder, gripped her hair a little tighter, she made a mental note.
“Yeah, fuck, Hazel,” you groaned lowly. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself from saying her name. She seemed to love it. As your breaths became shorter, her movements quickened, she hoisted your legs above her shoulders as you crossed your ankles, getting even closer. You gasped in surprise, then giggled.
“I could stay between these thighs forever, fuck,” she mused, giving them a rub. You bit your lip, heart fluttering at the implications of her comment. Did that mean she wanted to do this again? Before you could get too in your head, her lips reattached to your pussy and everything else faded away. You tossed your head side to side, suddenly very overwhelmed.
“Oh god, it feels too good, it’s too much, I can’t-“ you babbled, hands covering your face.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, take a deep breath, relax into it, feel it,” Hazel mumbled into your pussy, the vibrations only adding to the euphoria. You did as she said, taking a big, quivering inhale, then exhale. You tried to relax your muscles, focusing on the feeling of Hazel swirling her tongue on your clit.
“Good,” she praised into your pussy, blinking up at you. Looking into her eyes helped too; nothing else mattered when she was looking at you like that. You began playing with your own breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers, kneading, and Hazel groaned at the sight.
“You’re so hot,” she murmured, as she pulled away for a moment, chest heaving.
“You are- you’re- I-“ you tried, before getting completely distracted at Hazel running two of her fingers up and down your slit, collecting some wetness on her fingers. You watched, completely enthralled as she took them into her mouth, sucking her fingers and closing her eyes, moaning. It was the sexiest thing you had ever witnessed with your own two eyes. You were rendered completely speechless.
“I-you’re- that was-“ you were cut off again by Hazel circling your entrance with those same fingers.
“Is this okay?” she asked, and you nodded.
“Yes, yes, yes, please.” She entered you with one swift movement, taking your breath away in the best way possible. You were so wet, so turned on, so ready for her. She tested the waters by pulling her fingers out halfway, then slipping them back in.
“That’s good, that’s-“ you moaned. “Try doing this with your fingers,” you mimicked a ‘come hither’ motion. She followed suit, the cutest look of concentration on her face as she watched for your reaction. You moaned even louder, nodding vigorously.
“That’s it, don’t stop,” you squeaked, throwing your head back in pleasure. She continued the same motion at the same pace, and you noticed how close you were getting. When Hazel reattached her lips to your clit and began sucking, you were done for.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out, hand flying back into her hair, gripping probably a little too hard. But it only seemed to spur her on.
“Harder, more,” you instructed, and she began finger-fucking you with more force, going deeper, sucking your clit a little harder, kitten-licking at the same time.
“Haze, Haze, Haze,” you gasped, mouth hanging open as you took in the sight of her. She was looking at you with wide, lustful eyes, continuing the same pace.
“I-I’m gonna-“ you squeaked between sharp breaths. Hazel slid a third finger in, curling her fingers at a rapid pace, tongue swirling on your clit in the most delicious way. You could tell she was determined to make you cum. This sent you over the edge, and you cried out, making the most ungodly sound that you weren’t certain was even that sexy, but you didn’t care at this stage. You threw your head back, mouth hanging open as waves of pleasure wracked your body, all the way from your stomach, spreading to your entire body. You could feel how sweaty you had gotten, but you didn’t care.
“Hazel,” you moaned loudly, riding out your orgasm as she continued her movements, increasingly slowing down. It briefly crossed your mind again how ridiculous her statement about having no idea what she was doing was. This was way more mind-blowing than you could have ever imagined.
“Well done, that’s it,” she whispered as she slowed down, before ceasing her movements. Breathe, you internally reminded yourself, slowly coming back to reality. Hazel slipped her fingers out of you as gently as you could, and you gasped at the sudden emptiness. You removed your trembling legs off Hazel’s shoulders, pulling her down by her shoulders so she was cuddled up on top of you.
“Hazel,” you whispered again, heart still beating like crazy, mind foggy in the best way possible. She kissed you, and you could taste yourself on her tongue. It was surprisingly hot. When you pulled away, you both let out a breathless chuckle.
“Was that okay?” she asked, brushing some of your messed up hair out of your eyes. You laughed in disbelief.
“That was- that was the hottest thing that I could have ever imagined,” you replied.
“Oh,” Hazel laughed, flushing a deep red. As if she was getting shy now. “Hey, I have a question.”
“Yeah?” you asked, fiddling with the chain resting at her neck. Your eyes met, and your stomach exploded with butterflies.
“Can this be- can this be strings attached now? Please?” Hazel asked nervously. You giggled, crushing your lips together. She let out a noise of surprise, but then kissed you back passionately. When you pulled away, you kissed the top of her nose, and she scrunched up her face.
“God yes,” you said breathlessly. Hazel held her hand out for you to shake with a playful smile, and you both laughed as you took it and shook it.
“Deal,” she joked.
“Now that’s out of the way…” you said softly, and Hazel raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. You rolled over suddenly, so you were on top of her now, hands intertwined above her head. “Your turn.”
1K notes · View notes
badgerbl00d · 1 year
Text
drinking with the one piece boys pt.2
Tumblr media
☆ characters: law, crocodile, mihawk
☆ up next: one piece boys getting jealous pt. 2
☆ summary: getting a lil drunk w the above characters who definitely don't have a thing for you ;) ..., suggestive content
☆ a/n: part 2 is finally up! let me know which characters you'd like to see in part 3... and please enjoy!
Tumblr media
law
bourbon
It was a relatively small victory. 
The Polar Tang had sprung a minor leak after nearly 3 weeks without resurfacing, and somehow, amidst the general panic, Penguin’s constant reminders that dying by drowning was arguably the worst way to go, no shipwright, and Law’s inability to keep everybody anybody calm, the leak was patched. It took two and a half hours and there would be a significant clean up job but it was a victory nonetheless. The crew hadn’t seen a fraction of excitement for the past month and it was such a relief to have fixed it that within minutes alcohol was being passed around. 
Law snuck back into his office, barely avoiding the spray of opened champagne and shaken beer bottles, groaning and mumbling about ‘behaving like children’ and ‘unprofessionalism’. 
You sat with the others for a while, playing cards with Jean Bart as Bepo and Shachi looked for the karaoke machine. 
You dismissed yourself quickly when they found it, grabbing a bottle of expensive looking alcohol before you left. 
Knock. Knock. 
“Come in,” Law sighed. 
He didn’t look up from his paperwork and was sorting out different kinds of coins on his desk. 
“You left the party too early,” you teased, “My Heart Will Go On has a third person part in case you wanted to join in!”
A small smile spread across Law’s face and he looked up, perking up slightly when he saw the amber bottle in your hands. 
“What’s that?” he raised an eyebrow at you, opening his desk drawer to pull out two glasses. 
“Bourbon,” you popped off the seal, smelling the liquid inside before pouring some into each cup, “I figured we might enjoy it better than they would out there. Cheap beer seems to do the trick for them.”
Law nodded his head in thanks and clinked glasses with you as you both took a sip.
“Good god,” you gagged, “That’s strong.”
“Looks like it might be cheap beer for you too.”
“You just want the whole bottle to yourself.” 
He shook his head, “You know I’m better behaved than that. This glass should be enough for me.” 
He finished it with a second sip.
“C’mon don’t make me drink alone, Captain.”
With little protest from the pirate, you poured him another drink, and capped off your own glass when you had finished.
An hour later and somewhere between your fourth and fifth glass of stolen bourbon and Law’s sixth or seventh you realized how completely gone you both were. The bottle was half empty and with every sip you took you felt the man across from you’s eyes watching how your plump lips hugged the rim of the glass with every sip. 
Overcome by both boldness and drunken impulse you leaned forward, laying your head down on the table and softly ran your fingers over his.
You traced the tattoos that painted them, and placed your hand on top of his when you had finished. 
You slowly sat back up, and looked at your Captain. His cheeks were a hazy pink and his hair tousled and messy. His eyes were half lidded and his voice seemed to have dropped an octave or two. He’d undone the top two buttons on his shirt and it took the entirety of your hazy minded willpower to not start drooling. 
“Y’know,” Law started, his words blending into one another, “You’re ver’pretty.. ‘n I might have a crush on you.”
His hands made their way towards yours and you toyed with each other until your fingers seemed to naturally tie themselves together, your hands resting comfortably in his. You softly laughed, it was airy and beautiful. 
Law continued, “Like that. S’pretty.” 
“Y’might not remember this ‘n the morning,” you slurred, your cheeks a furious red. 
“Then kiss me now.”
You both stood up much faster and more suddenly than your condition allowed and nearly fell over.
You giggled your way towards each other, Law placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your back, guiding you towards the side of his desk, his hand guarding you from any sharp edges. 
He sat you down after sloppily clearing away all the papers, leaving a mess on the floor. 
He pushed your hair from your eyes, clumsily tucking it behind your ears. 
Everything was suddenly very warm, the palms of his hands seemed to radiate an ebbing heat onto your back. One on the small of your back and one supporting your neck.
Despite your drunkenness, you locked eyes, and there was a startling sincerity in both your stares.
You closed your eyes as a soft pair of lips were gingerly placed on yours. 
Your lips closed around his, softly sucking and nibbling at each other, giggles littering the space in between each attachment of your lips. You brought your arms up around his neck and he pulled you closer into him, situating himself between your thighs. 
Your desperation grew and you sunk yourself fully into him, your tongues slipping back and forth into each other's mouths, sloppy strings of saliva connecting your lips every time you pulled away. 
“Law, Law, wait,” you said, gasping for air, “Wait.” 
You swallowed, your chests both heaving.
His brows furrowed and his hands rubbed your back.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, still breathing heavily. The dim light in the room was making your head spin and you suddenly felt very overwhelmed. 
Law pulled you into his chest and pressed kisses to the top of your head. 
“What do we say tomorrow morning?”
“Does it matter?”
You were silent. 
“I suppose that depends. Are you drunk?”
You shook your head, “I’m not, no. Are you?”
“Not anymore,” he laughed. 
You looked up at him. 
He smiled. 
“Then we say nothing.” 
crocodile
whiskey
If there was one mistake in your life you’d regret, it would be this one. 
He’d make sure of it.
Had you really, in all your laughable idiocy, convinced yourself you could double cross a warlord? 
And you probably thought you’d been clever about it. Like he couldn’t recognize when he saw a sheep in wolf’s clothing. 
You were, he had to admit, better than most. 
You were cunning in a wickedly creative way and he had no doubt that had you not shown your hand, he would have been in serious trouble. But did you really think he wouldn’t find out? 
You’d been so careful that it astonished him you’d chosen the worst possible confidant to help carry out your planned assassination. Mr. 2, aside from being notoriously big-mouthed and unaware, was- more than anyone- loyal. 
Surely you had to have known that.
But that was no concern of Crocodile’s, and he’d have dealt with you before morning.
‘Ten o’clock, Hasting’s Bar on 2nd’ was what the card had read. 
It was beyond you what he could have possibly wanted to do with you at a bar but you weren’t left with much choice. 
You waited for an hour before he cared to arrive, sitting next to you. 
You sucked on a cherry stem, and tapped your cigarette out onto the ashtray in front of you. 
He said nothing, but you felt his eyes swallowing you whole.
It was threatening, of course, but enjoyable. Your red dress looked good and his attention felt even better.  
“Two whiskeys,” he ordered, slapping a hand down on the bar, breaking the silence.
“Oh- I don’t drink.”
Crocodile raised a hand to stop you talking, “You do tonight.” 
He was visibly upset and you shifted in your seat in discomfort. 
The bartender placed two glasses in front of you, each containing a dark gold liquid. 
You grabbed your glass by the rim, swirling it around.
It smelled like gasoline and wood. 
“What’s the occasion?” you asked. 
“Company is doing well. Marginal increases, international buyers and sellers, and most importantly, we’re now operating completely legally. Well, we will be in three weeks. Once we’ve wrapped up all the licensing paperwork.”
You looked at him, not completely understanding why he’d be giving you all that information. Your position at the company most definitely had nothing to do with legality of operations. 
It made no sense for a man of his secrecy to tell you anything. Unless… 
You felt your stomach start churning and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. 
Bon Clay had said something. 
He knew. 
His expression remained completely neutral, disinterested almost. 
You slowly stood up, “Why are you telling me this?”
“What is that proverb,” he asked, standing up with a startling speed and stepping behind you, a leg on each side of yours closing you in, “About traitors?”
You swallowed audibly, sweat beading against your forehead, your knuckles turning white around the glass they were holding. 
“Keep your friends close…,” he whispered as he leant in, brushing his lips against yours, a hook snaking around your waist to pull you closer into his chest as he traced a tantilizing finger up your cheek, brushing a strand of hair back. 
Dragging his lips to your ear you felt a sly grin slowly etch into his face, 
“.. and your enemies closer.”
Your heart was steady, though the beat against your chest was now much stronger. 
How typical of a man in his position. 
Assuming he knew best and you knew nothing. 
In a sudden motion you threw your drink behind you, drenching his head and shoulders in whiskey. 
He stepped back, anger bubbling up from his chest into his face which was turning red. 
“If I’m correct,” you started, “Sand doesn’t disperse when wet.”
You turned around to look at him, smiling at how his eyes widened.
“Playing stupid worked! For a second I thought you’d be too smart to fall for the ‘clumsy assassin’ routine. Accidentally letting slip who I was with by telling Mr.2 of all people? Please.”
You studied his face as he stood unnervingly still, thick drops of golden liquid dripping down his cheeks. 
There was something else in his eyes though, something uncivilized and hungry. He looked at you with anger, yes, but also with a fervent desire. 
He seemed genuinely amused. Not in a condescending way like you were used to from him, but like he had a genuine interest in the turn of events. 
“You know, sweetheart,” he laughed, taking out a cigar and placing it between his lips, “I’m impressed.”
He walked towards you, facing the cigar in your direction, asking for a light, “I should offer you a job.”
You let out a short, dry laugh, bringing your lighter to his lips. 
He bent down, grey eyes locking onto yours and you watched a wolfish smile spread onto his face. 
“There’s a car outside, that will take us back to mine.”
He slipped a coarse finger under the strap of your dress, toying with it, letting it off your shoulder. 
“Good thing you’re dressed for the occasion.” 
You pulled the cigar from his lips, taking a long drag before softly blowing the smoke onto his rigid nose.
You ran a finger under his chin, bringing your lips millimeters from his. 
“Must we leave here? We have it all to ourselves.”
Crocodile smiled, pulling the cigar from your lips and putting it out on the bar.
He pulled you into his lap as he took a seat, letting his coarse hands palm your body.
If there was one mistake in his life he’d regret, it would be this one. You were about to make sure of it. 
mihawk
wine
“Cariño,” you called out from the tub, “Bring wine!”
You sunk back down into the warm water, listening to your husband chuckle to himself as he ran downstairs to complete his errand. 
Bubbles covered you and floated around the tub as you softly paddled the water underneath. 
A deep sigh made its way out of your lungs and you rested your head back, enjoying the display your husband had arranged for you.
Rose petals littered the bathroom, strewn across the floor and tub, the room dimly lit by candles which casted a warm hue giving your skin a golden glow. 
It wasn’t often the two of you were home together for more than a few weeks at a time, however you’d both managed to finish all your obligations and errands before winter had even set on Kuragaina. 
The swordsman, much to your surprise, had finished nearly a full two weeks before you and had spent the time preparing for your arrival. 
He owned an abundance of different financial assets around the world, most of which you managed. Properties from North to South Blue, millions of dollars in (rigged) stock market exchanges, investments in artworks around museums around the world, and several different savings accounts with banks run by ex-cons and loan sharks. 
Your husband might not have been the most violent type of pirate, but he was a pirate nonetheless and, well, clean money didn’t buy castles. 
You didn’t mind, and were good with the men he dealt with. 
Pirates' morals were pretty simple when they were talking to a beautiful woman with a globally feared husband, so you were never really worried. 
Though, on the rare occasion something did happen you could usually handle yourself. 
Two light knocks at the door woke you back up and you turned to look at Mihawk holding up a wine bottle. 
“I figured we didn’t need the glasses,” he mused. 
You giggled and beckoned him towards the tub, “Butler,” you teased, “The water’s cooling down.”
He smiled and turned the faucet to the left, increasing the temperature of water pouring into the tub. 
He kneeled outside the tub, a large hand bringing your head towards his lips which pressed a kiss onto your forehead. 
“Anything else, hermosa?”
You nodded, sinking into the hold of his hand on the back of your neck. 
“¿Qué necesitas?” he asked, admiring how beautiful you looked.
“Entré aquí y te diré.”
He smiled, more excitedly this time, pressing a rapid flurry of kisses to your face before obliging your request. 
“Help me undress,” he asked. 
You leaned over the edge of the tub, the bubbles clinging to your body acting as a rather transparent cover up, and slowly began undoing the buttons of his shirt, tracing your fingers up and down his exposed skin as you did so. 
The golden light filling the room enhanced his muscles, highlighting the product of years upon years of rigorous training and strength building. 
But he wasn’t hard to the touch, like marble or stone. His skin was impossibly soft and smooth. He bore no scars- a fact that brought him immense pride, and further proof of his title as the world’s greatest swordsman. 
A sinfully soft hand gently grabbed your cheeks, pulling your lips towards his. 
You kissed him, savoring how even now, in marriage, he kissed you with completely unfiltered lust. 
His tongue slipped past your lips, begging entry into your mouth, and you tasted that he’d gotten a head start on the wine. 
“Not fair,” you giggled, pulling away from the kiss.
He stood up, discarding the rest of his clothing, folding it and placing it on top of yours before stepping in. 
He sunk down and you made your way over to him, sitting yourself in between his legs, lying back onto his chest.
He grabbed the wine bottle and handed it to you, from which you happily took a long drink. 
It was surprisingly sweet and you thanked him for accommodating your less refined wine tastes, the bitter stuff just didn’t entice you. 
He laughed, gathering up the hair that had fallen out of your claw clip and redoing it for you. 
“I missed you,” he said, kissing your neck. 
You grabbed his hands and laced your fingers into his, lightly squeezing as you wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“I missed you so much,” you started, “I know we should probably be used to it after five years but…”
You let your thoughts trail off. 
“I’ll never get used to your absence,” he said, “Before you this castle was lonely and empty save for some squatters I momentarily had staying. And now it is only a home when I can find you in it.”
You giggled at his quip before continuing, “It’s so lonely and empty and the floors are so cold and I swear I still get lost sometimes.
And when you’re not here the bed is so much colder and I worry the entire time about you.”
“Worry about me?” he teased, “And what possible pirate or marine out there could possibly have you worried about me?”
You took another long sip of the wine. 
“I dunno,” you said, your head starting to feel hazy. The heat from the bath and the surge of emotions of being back home were overwhelming you. 
“It doesn’t matter,” he assured you, “I’m here now. And I’m staying until spring.”
You hugged his arm which was still circled around your waist. 
“I have to leave for another week,” you’d been hesitant to tell him and had decided now was probably going to be the best opportunity. 
“I’ll be back by next Sunday, I have business in the city. There’s a man who wants to rent part of a property we own for reasons I assume he’ll elaborate upon when we meet.” 
He gently grabbed the wine bottle from your hands, taking a drink from it, saying nothing. 
“I know I just arrived, I’m sorry.”
He gave you a soft squeeze.
“I have no room to complain, amor, I’m constantly leaving you here,” he pressed a flurry of kisses to the top of your head, “But I could go with you.”
You turned around to look at him, adjusting yourself in the tub so you were at the perfect height to give him a kiss.
You pulled away, only for his hand to find its way to the back of your head and pull you back in for another. 
You deepened the kiss, pressing your body against his, as his hands traveled downward palming a good amount of your ass.
It was clear this activity was bound to make its way into your bedroom sooner than later. 
You sat up, running a hand through his hair. 
“Let’s go get in bed. We leave early tomorrow morning.”
He laughed, grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for one last kiss.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
misc-obeyme · 7 months
Note
Obey me characters reacting to seeing chubby MC wearing something skimpy that shows off their curves? Thank you~
Hi there, anon!
I assumed you were looking for something nsfw for this request, so that's what I did! I also only did the brothers since I don't do all the characters in a single post anymore. Hopefully that's all okay!
Thank you for the request!
Tumblr media
the brothers react to chubby GN!MC wearing revealing clothes - NSFW MDNI
Warnings: mentions of rolls and curves, possessive behavior, jealousy, suggestive content
Tumblr media
Lucifer
He considers it a challenge. If you don't normally wear skimpy clothes, he thinks you're doing it just to catch his attention. And you might be, but he's not going to give you that satisfaction. Not at first, anyway. He will compliment your clothes casually, a simple "You look nice today, MC" that gives away nothing.
Lucifer is convinced that he has the upper hand, that he isn't completely entranced by the way he can see every curve of your body. And he probably does a good job of acting like this is the case, too. Whatever it is you're doing that day, he continues on as he always does, but you can see the way his eyes follow you when he thinks you aren't looking.
Keeps up his responsible older brother persona until you're alone. The second that happens, his hands are all over you, squeezing at your flesh, his lips on your neck, he's completely undone. If you respond as if you've been waiting for his touch all day, it won't be long before he decides to just have his way with you.
He wants to have you while you're still wearing the clothes that were driving him crazy, so he only removes anything that's in his way. If he can just push fabric aside, he'll do that instead. Puts you on the desk in his office so he can sit down on his chair and bury his face between your legs.
Mammon
The moment he sees you, he reacts with wide eyes and a creeping blush. He might try to keep his cool, but it's a pointless endeavor. Especially bad if you don't normally wear clothes like this and it's the first time he's seeing you in them. He'll tell you how good you look, but it comes out with a stutter. His hands are twitching because he wants to touch you so bad.
Does not have the same restraint as the others might. He doesn't completely lose his mind, but he does touch you. He'll put his hand on the small of your back or place it on your leg if you're sitting next to him. He wants to be near you all the time anyway, but he's even more clingy now.
Mammon will loudly fight off anybody who so much as looks at you. He loves the clothes you're wearing and the way your curves are accentuated, but he doesn't love the way everyone else gets to see it, too. He might even shield you with his body if he thinks someone is looking at you too much.
Even if you get him alone, he won't do anything until you ask. You have to give him permission, but the second you do, he is taking all those cute clothes right off. Yeah, ya looked good in 'em, but he prefers ya like this, MC. He just wants to make you feel good, so tell him what you want and he's more than happy to do it. Pays extra attention to all your little chubby rolls because he loves them so much.
Leviathan
Oh you can be sure this guy's anxiety is now through the roof. Levi loves your soft body, but when you wear revealing things like this, it's impossible for him to focus on anything else. Any time you're anywhere near him, he's a blushing mess. He can barely look at you, let alone talk to you. He tries very hard to keep himself together. He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.
Whatever it is you're doing, he's going to be hovering around you constantly. If he feels like this just from being near you, that means everybody else likely is, too. And that idea bothers him. He doesn't feel like he can tell people off or anything, but he does give them dirty looks.
He sometimes starts to stare at you, watching the way you move in that outfit, his mind completely somewhere else. He doesn't know what's going on around him until someone tries to talk to him. Then he has a hard time tearing his eyes away from you.
He doesn't expect anything to happen, he's planning to just go back to his room alone and deal with his neediness himself. If you follow him there or show up at his door, his mind stops working altogether. Break it further by kissing him, but after a minute he gets it together enough to start begging. Please, MC, he needs you so bad. Take control and tell him exactly how you want to be touched.
Satan
He will not react. He will give you compliments, but it's nothing beyond what he normally does. He will keep an eye on his brothers, though, because he doesn't trust any of them with you when you look like this. Puts himself between you and anyone he thinks is too close to you. He won't allow anyone to touch you at all.
And that's probably the only way you know he's even affected. He does things like putting an arm around your shoulder or lacing your fingers with his. A subtle indication to everyone around you that you're with him. He doesn't like the way other people look at you when your curves are on full display.
Satan might start to let his anger show if you're getting hit on a lot. But this also makes him feel guilty, so then he gets angry at himself, too. You shouldn't have to deal with his insecurities just because you felt like wearing something a little revealing.
Eventually, he will just ask you directly if he can take you back to his room. There's no doubt what he means, so you get to decide if you accept or not. If you do, he will finally let out everything he's been holding back. Did you wear this outfit to rile him up on purpose, MC? It doesn't matter what you say at this point. He's going to ravage you now that you're in his arms.
Asmodeus
The usual immediate reaction. He's instantly showering you in compliments, telling you how gorgeous you are, how lovely your curves and rolls look in this outfit, how impressed he is with your coordination of it. If you don't stop him, he will just continue to talk about how much he loves the way you look, how stunning you are, how perfect.
He's already kissing your cheeks, holding your hands, making sure you're always by his side. He's not worried about other people looking at you. He's more than happy to show you off. But this confidence comes from the security of knowing that you're his.
Asmo might even have picked out your outfit for you. He thinks you look really good in tight clothes that accentuate your roundness. He's always touching you subtly in those places, too, letting you know that he likes what he's seeing. You're just so cute like this, MC!
He surprises you by letting the tension build. While his brothers seem to be incapable of holding themselves back from you, he's waiting for you to come begging to him. And you do because that was why you wore this outfit to begin with. You wanted his attention. As soon as you ask, he will simply worship every part of you. Kisses you all over, slowly and deliberately, until you're wild with need, then makes sure you cry out his name multiple times.
Beelzebub
Here is another one who's brain just sort of short circuits. Especially if you don't normally wear stuff like this, he's just baffled for a long moment while he takes in the way you look. Your rolls and curves look tasty and for once he's not thinking about that in a food way. Snaps out of it, though, and just blushes sweetly for a while as he compliments you. You look really good, MC. Is that a new outfit?
He doesn't want you to think he's desperate to touch you, but he's kinda desperate to touch you. Holds his hands behind his back when he's next to you, but it only works for so long. Eventually he's got his hand on your back, your shoulder, your thigh.
Frowns at anyone who gets too close. He doesn't mind if other people look at you. He's proud of the fact that you're by his side, looking the way you do. But he definitely won't let anyone else touch you. There is a hard boundary he won't allow anyone else to cross.
Beel is prepared to eat away his desires because he doesn't want to expect anything from you. But all you have to do is look at him a certain way and he's all over it. Carries you to your room where he takes his time removing every piece of your nice clothing. Because in the end, he likes you best without anything on at all.
Belphegor
He's noticed your skimpy outfit, but he has nothing to say about it. He might tell you that you look nice, but that's all you're getting out of him. This doesn't mean it isn't affecting him or anything. He's just not about to let you know it. It's a little cute and funny because you can still see the blush on his cheeks and the way he keeps sneaking glances at you.
He takes the opportunity to snuggle in your lap or otherwise cuddle up to you. If anyone says anything, he acts innocently confused. What? He always sleeps on MC, no matter what they're wearing. They're his favorite pillow, everyone knows that. Leave him alone, he just wants to take a nap.
And he will, too. If you don't move him, he will drift off, fingers slightly clutching one of your rolls. He doesn't stay asleep for long, though, because the image of you in those revealing clothes keeps popping up in his dreams. He wakes up and complains to you about it, asking if you're going to help him out with this or what.
Let him take you somewhere quiet - whether it's the attic, your room, or his own room, he doesn't care. The moment you do, he's going to be far more honest about how much he wants you. Presses himself into your soft body. Whimpers against you until you cover him in kisses, both of you exhausting yourselves with each other until he's finally able to sleep peacefully in your arms.
Tumblr media
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
369 notes · View notes
8aji · 1 year
Text
too busy saving everybody else to save yourself. // s.s.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
to think of a life without him filled you up with such sorrow you thought you'd let yourself drown just to be with him one last time. — or, an account of the events that transpired after the night of august 14, 2003.
pairing. shinichiro sano x baji!reader
wc. 18k
tags/cw. MDNI, angst with happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, baji!reader (reader is baji’s sibling), manga spoilers, shinichiro lives, anxiety/panic attacks, smoking, mentions of death, characters cry a lot, mentions of head trauma + hospitals + needles + blood, reader gets called 'nee-chan' a couple of times but other than that its pretty gn, very suggestive (one make/out sesh), takeomi is clowned a lot + please let me know if i missed anything!
a/n. its finally done sob i spent so much time polishing this as much as i could and what was supposed to be a 1k drabble mutated into this lmfao but all in all this fic is my baby, my child, and i love it so so much i just hope y'all will like it as much as i do !! a massive thanks to @tetsutits for betaing and to @mosviqu for letting me run the storyline through her !! hope all of u enjoy lots n lots !!
m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni
Tumblr media
One step, one blink, one breath, one step, one blink, one breath; like on autopilot, the pattern repeated itself over and over again. You could feel it beating inside your skull; the pounding of your heart resonated throughout your body, acting as the fuel behind your every move. 
Your blurry gaze amplified all of your other senses, sending your brain into a downward spiral of emotional overwhelm; the loud keyboard clicking, the obnoxious chatter, the drinking and munching of coffee and donuts, all of it made you want to tear your ears off. How could the world keep turning, people existing like normal, while you were being consumed by the tightness enveloping your lungs? The thought made you want to light up the whole building, watch it burn as the flames simmered the concrete to ashes to relieve the turmoil brewing inside your body. 
“I'm coming for Baji Keisuke?” You asked, barely managing to string the words together in a coherent sentence, head going a thousand miles per hour. “He’s my brother.”
The officer behind the desk pulled down his magazine, looking you over and taking in your dishevelled state. “Ah,” he sighed as soon as your brother's profile appeared on his screen. “Baji Keisuke, the little rascal with the breaking and entering charges, huh?”
lips forming into a thin line, you nodded, biting your tongue so as to not insult the man in front of you who, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle, as if a twelve year-old kid being detained was funny. 
“Can I see him?”
He gave you one last obnoxious glance, before typing on his computer.
“He’s currently under police custody,” he explained condescendingly as if you didn’t know, pulling a manila folder and pressing the button on the printer, handing you a pen in the meantime. “He's only got a minor charge compared to the other brat he came in here with,” He let out a quiet cackle, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. To you, it was like he acted this nonchalant to rile you up, make your blood boil. And, in spite of your reluctance to admit to it, it was working. Being in his presence made you want to punch him. “We’re betting on whether the other kid’s gonna get charged with manslaughter or not.
“And just between us,” he made a come hither motion, but leaned forward on his chair at your lack of reaction. “I’m betting in favor of manslaughter, so I'm crossing my fingers for the guy to die soon, ‘ya know?”
Had you been wearing long sleeves, he would’ve been able to see you rolling them up, emotionally prepared to be charged with aggravated assault against a police officer
Fortunately, another officer called out your name, catching your attention before you could act on the violent scenarios coursing through your brain. You didn’t bother excusing yourself before leaving to find your brother.
He looked small, smaller than he actually was, as he sat on the floor with both his knees close to his chest. His eyes were puffy and red, it was obvious he had been crying; though by the looks of it, he had yet to stop.
The cell door sounded like nails against a chalkboard as it scraped against the floor. It made him flinch in surprise, snapping him out of the borderline-dissociating trance as he looked up at the intimidating officer, trying to gauge his intentions while gathering all the energy he had left in his body to fight off the man just in case he needed to. But as soon as he made eye contact with you he could feel himself lowering his guard. 
He didn’t even hesitate, his body moved on his own, running past the officer and straight into your arms, letting the harsh sobs he had tried bottling up rack his body, along with muffled apologies and incoherent explanations.
“It's okay,” you mumbled against his hair, trying to calm down his heart wrenching cries. He nuzzled his face against your neck, trying to get impossibly closer to the sound of your voice. You waited for him to nod, still clutching at your clothes with all the remaining energy he had. “He's strong, he’ll be alright.”
Though at this point you were unsure whether your words held any weight against the grand scheme of things; hopefully all your promises won’t turn into bold-faced lies.
You made your way out of the cell together, holding his left hand as he used the other to rub at his eyes, itchy and dry from all the crying. The two of you walked past a couple of cells before he stopped for what seemed like a millisecond, mumbling something under his breath in weak anguish. Had you not been hyper aware of everything going on around you, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tug at your hand.
Kazutora sat on the floor the same way Keisuke did, knees pulled up to his chest, biting his cuticles raw to stop his brain from looping the traumatic set of events like a broken film; still, it wasn't enough to stop his whole body from trembling in shock. The distress fresh in his eyes made you want to drop everything just to hold him close, comfort him like you did with Keisuke. 
But you didn’t have much time, the officer behind you pressured the both of you to move, and considering Keisuke remained under police custody, you weren’t willing to risk him getting locked up again now that you had him by your side.
“Wait for me over there, okay?” You said, pointing at the waiting area. “I just have to fill out some paperwork and then we can go home.” He held your hand even tighter in his grasp in response, as if he was scared to let go. “I’ll be quick, promise.”
Reluctantly, he dragged his feet as he walked, not wanting to stray far away from you. At least there was still some sort of stubbornness left in him. You’ve never seen him act like this, uncontrollably crying and apologising, devoid of the mischievous glint in his eyes. Knowing the Keisuke you knew was still there comforted you.
“How, uh, how much is bail gonna be?” You asked once he had made himself at home on the plastic chairs. Thankfully it was someone else behind the desk instead of the asshole you had the misery of interacting with. 
You knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, already having a grasp of fines and bail costs thanks to your friends getting into trouble, but even with this knowledge, their response sent a shiver down your spine.
Maybe you could use some of your own savings, or part of your college fund. Using your mom’s money was also an option, but you didn't want to put the burden on her. If you skipped a semester it could give you some time to earn the money back, but you were already behind in a few classes, and the minimum wage from part time jobs wouldn’t stack up too much, so was it truly feasible?
Fuck, you knew they were children but you couldn’t help but curse at their recklessness, their stupidity and naivety. Did they actually think stealing a bike would be that easy? And now you have to pay for the consequences, quite literally. Of course, you could always leave him here, let him face the consequences straight on. There was nothing forcing you to bail him out. But who were you kidding, you’d kill for him, of course you were going to pay.
Making sure he was still where you left him, you looked over your shoulder back at him. He was slumped over his knees, aimlessly playing with his fingers as his eyes fixated on the corridor leading to the cells, a solemn sadness washing over his features. 
No. 
You weren’t going to. You were going to pay for your brother’s sins, or whatever the cheesy line says, and leave to never look back. You didn’t owe this other kid anything, most certainly when you couldn't afford it. But, after knowing him for so long, the thought of him staying in the middle of four cold walls until further notice broke your heart.
“Actually,” you sighed. This was gonna cost two semesters instead of one. “Could I pay for someone else’s bail as well?”
At first, he refused to acknowledge your presence, biting harder into his fingers. He tried self-soothing through slow back and forth rocking motions and the unintelligible words that spilled from his mouth, hugging himself tighter the closer you got. 
He didn’t move, frozen in place as if the lack of movement would make him invincible to the naked eye. He didn’t cave in no matter what you did, not when you kneeled in front of him nor when you whispered his name in hopes he would acknowledge your voice.
It only took a couple of seconds after that for him to shyly meet your gaze, warming up to you in an instant and clinging onto you just like Keisuke had done, though he did so with a lot more desperation, this sort of comfort foreign to Kazutora. He felt so small in your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder, the only thing he could do was claw at your body for reassurance. Other than that, he didn’t speak, didn’t cry, he almost didn’t move, to the point it had you questioning whether he was actually breathing. 
Once you coaxed him out of the cell and got a hold of your brother, your sole focus was on guiding the boys beside you out of the precinct as fast as possible, one hand holding Keisuke’s while the other rested on the back of Kazutora’s head. They didn’t need to spend more time than necessary in this place, surrounded by grimy cell blocks and seemingly socially inept officers who couldn’t keep their rambunctious laughter down.
Wakasa was sitting on his bike outside the police station waiting for the three of you, and though initially it was supposed to be just the two of you riding along with him, he wasn’t surprised you paid for your brother’s friend’s bail. He kept a fairly laid-back exterior, lit cigarette hanging from his fingers replacing his preferred strawberry flavored lollipops, inhaling back the smoke that seeped from his parted lips and freaking out on the inside.
The two of you were hanging out when multiple calls blasted through your phone, prompting you to rush to where you were now. First it was one from the hospital, one of the bearers of bad news that didn’t let you dwell on the fact that Shinichiro had written you down as one of his emergency contacts. Then came the call from the police station, sinking your heart down to the bottomless pit in your stomach.
“Everything alright?” He asked, putting out his cigarette, smothering the stick with his boot along with the other three he had finished while you were inside. 
You hummed in response, words dying in your throat. The silence around you itched and burned, made your skin prickle with discomfort, and even so, no one dared say anything besides the occasional noise of acknowledgement. They weren’t dumb. They were one-hundred percent aware of what they were doing, and this wasn’t something you could blame on their age either. Yes, they were kids, but a twelve year old should be able to discern right from wrong; aware that stealing is bad and that murdering people is wrong.
And deep down, you knew this was even more fucked up than it appeared to be. You knew Kazutora wouldn’t have cared for the victim had it not been Shinichiro. The only reason he was shaking like a leaf, flinching when Wakasa fastened the belt of his helmet against his head, was because he hurt Mikey’s brother. That’s not to say Keisuke was innocent, it was clear he wasn’t. Intentionally breaking into someone’s shop to steal a very valuable, very expensive, piece of equipment and potentially complicit in someone's murder. 
You wanted to tear your eyes off at the thought. Did they really think they could get away with this? That it would be as easy as stealing some candy or gum from the corner store? You wanted to curse them out for being so stupid, so naive. But looking down at their sunken faces, eyes bloodshot and teary as they sweated fear from every pore on their fragile skin, it made you want to excuse all their horrid behaviour, ignore the fact they committed a crime and in the process they mortally wounded an innocent man. 
You held down an involuntary gag at the violation of your principals, the memory of what had just gone down stirring unwanted bitterness inside your stomach. You were no one to criticise the two kids sitting between Wakasa and you. They could be stupid, but you were the weakest of them all.
“Let’s get going then.”
You could question your moral compass later, first you had to get them home.
Tumblr media
The voices of the characters talking in the background faded into an uncomfortable white noise as your muscles dissolved along with your bones, breaking through your skin and seeping into the cushions of the couch. Each time you breathed in the more stressed you became at the uncertainty of your friend’s mortal status. 
You hadn’t received any news from the hospital, and though you knew that if they hadn’t called by now, they probably wouldn’t at least until tomorrow morning, that didn’t stop you from imprisoning your phone close to your chest. Maybe if you channelled all your strength into your hold then you’d lose the urge to cry.
In spite of their initial resistance, it didn’t take long to put the kids to bed. The two of them drifted off to a bitter, yet hopefully replenishing, sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It wasn’t surprising, the whole incident had drained the both of them to their core.
“‘Sure you’re okay?” Wakasa asked, and had it not been for his voice you're sure you would’ve dissociated the rest of the night. Maybe the kids would find you the next morning still sitting on the couch, frozen like a statue as you stared at the ceiling, and freak out because they’d think you had died along with ‘Shinichiro-nii’. 
You hummed, it was the only response you could muster it seemed, with your eyes zeroing in on his shoulders, then his cheeks and then his earrings. Looking straight into his eyes would do you no good. It’d blow your cover in less than an instant, and though it’s fair to say it was a shit cover, amplifying your grief through your dejected silence instead of toning it down, it made you feel safer from the imminent doom. Still, shitty cover up or not, Wakasa knew you weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be able to fool him even if he was stupid, and at this point, he’s convinced you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone; a single glance your way was enough to tell you were silently crumbling. 
He let his head fall backwards against the back of the sofa, sighing in acknowledgement. No matter how many times he asked, deep down he knew you would only cave in at your own account, But at least his question somehow managed to bring you back down from the maze your brain had started fabricating to earth. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave you enough space that’d prompt you to speak. He didn’t mind waiting. Not for a couple of seconds, or the couple of minutes those seconds turned into, or the couple of hours they mutated into next, and so on until days and weeks and years had passed, until the scarcity of time felt infinite.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You broke the silence, biting the edges of your words as if you wanted to hide them back inside, voice shaky and heavy against your tongue. 
He hesitated, sharing a seat next to you inside the same sinking uncertainty boat, “Shin-chan’s stronger than you think.” He tried reassuring you, or himself he wasn't sure, but at this point the more he tried to tell himself his friend was still breathing, the more it felt like a lie. Shin-chan was stronger than the two of you thought, but was he really? “He’d be heartbroken to know you had little faith in him.”
At least he got you to chuckle, “I’d be heartbroken to know that I was right.”
You fell into an uncomfortable silence not long after, the stakes of the conversation too high, and if you continued talking you’re sure you’d end up giving Shin up for dead. But like this, maybe you could finally force yourself to get some sleep. The weight of your eyelids had doubled, eyes growing heavier against your will, and though you didn’t want to, just in case something happened while you were unconscious, you knew you’d be of no use without at least a few hours of rest. Plus, you promised yourself you’d never lose any sleep over a guy, ever, and you weren’t about to make an exception for Shinichiro Sano.
Not even an hour in your slumber, you almost threw your phone to the other side of the room as its desperate cry pierced your ears. You’re sure Wakasa almost had a heart attack with how fast straightened up next to you, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it somehow managed to wake up both Kazutora and Keisuke, although your brother was more of a chronic heavy sleeper.
“What are you waiting for? Answer it!” Feelings heightened in his barely awake, panicked state, the desperation was palpable in his words. And though uncommon for him to act in such an erratic manner, he had bottled everything up the whole night, it was time for the stoic facade to break. 
But, even so, in spite of your friend’s heartbreaking desperation you didn’t move. Not after the third ring or the fourth. You didn’t dare move, staying frozen on the couch, groggy from waking up yet hyper-aware of everything going on around you despite your mild dissociation. The sole thought of moving towards made your brain press against your skull, screaming at you to stop. 
Not answering meant that Shinichiro could stay both simultaneously alive and dead, his fate linked to whether you picked up the call. If you didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t die after all, he’d stay stuck in the unknown limbo of immortality until you made a call. 
But then again, this was your only chance to get an update on his status. And it wasn’t only you anxiously waiting on any sort of news. Wakasa was waiting; Keisuke and Kazutora, although asleep, were as well, and you could only fathom Benkei and Takeomi’s reaction. Mikey and Emma were probably up to date, the hospital must’ve called their grandfather before they reached out to you. And looking back at the people that depended on you, it really wasn't fair to put your own self-indulgent selfishness over the needs of others, was it?
It wasn't. Of course it wasn’t, but after putting everyone before you for as long as you’ve lived, didn’t you deserve to be selfish? At least once, when it pertainted the condition of the unrequited love of your life, didn’t you deserve at least that much?
“Hello?” Wakasa answered through furrowed brows and twitching lips. From the way he spoke, you could tell he was biting on the inside of his cheek to release some tension, putting enough pressure to draw blood. “This is Wakasa Imaushi speaking,
“–can’t get to the phone right now, can’t you just talk to me?” Voice getting progressively louder, he challenged the person on the other side of the call. “He’s my best friend, don’t I deserve to know whether he’s alive or not?!”
Only when his voice broke at the weight of his own desperation did you manage to snap out of your trance, snatching the phone out of his grip, ignoring his glassy eyes as you spoke into the receiver, mumbling your name through a shakily put together voice.
You’re not sure whether you imagined it or not, almost choking on a withered sob, but you could feel the moment your teeth sunk into the skin of your hand, digging hard enough for blood to prickle to the surface, preventing any other noise from coming out. 
With your vision blurry and a tightness in your chest you could not describe, your body had gone completely numb, and yet your nerve endings were scorching under any semblance of atmospheric pressure, forcing you to feel everything, everywhere, all at once.
Had Wakasa not been there to catch you, you’d have collapsed on the ground, a pitiful wailing mess. Tears soaked through the fabric of both your clothes as you held each other close. For what felt like hours, the two of you stayed like that. Face buried against his neck and his against the top of your head, he rocked you back and forth in his arms until your tears stopped mixing themselves with your spit, sharp inhales tuning down into soft sniffles. And though his eyes burned with unshed sorrow, he kept on humming at your unintelligible mumbling.
“See? I told you he was stronger than we thought.” He whispered, though it sounded closer to a whimper, and nuzzled his cheek further against your hair. As if trying to ground himself, he gave you a tight squeeze, still in doubt whether he was trying to convince you or himself. 
Only after a while, once both of your breathing had evened out, did you raise your head up from its hideout, hesitant footsteps catching your attention.
“Nee-chan?” You heard a tiny voice coming from the hallway, a little insecure, as if he didn’t think he deserved a proper response. 
“I’m sorry ‘Tora, did we wake you?” You peeled Wakasa’s arms from your body, rubbing the haziness of your eyes away. He shook his head in response, carefully moving away from the shadows after acknowledging your lack of anger.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His puffy eyes shimmered red under the soft moonlight coming through the living room window. He took meticulous steps in your direction, side-eyeing Wakasa and still wary of you, not knowing how you would react after his intrusion. Each one was lighter than the other, the wooden floors refused to creek underneath his weight, almost as if he had trained himself to become weightlessly invisible.
Slowly as to not startle him, you stretched your arms in his direction, beckoning him towards you and silently encouraging him to trust you. Even after drying out his tears once you tucked him in bed, holding his hand a little longer while Keisuke slept next to him, you’re sure that wasn’t enough to reassure him you wouldn’t blow up on him. For Kazutora, interacting with most people felt like trying to navigate an active minefield.
Hugging him close to your body, you pulled him on your lap and softly rocked him back and forth; the same way Wakasa had done with you. He nuzzled closer to you, letting himself relax against your touch once he registered you weren't a threat, basking in your warmth. 
The silence the three of you fell under was deafening, uncomfortable even, though you didn't intend for it to be. Kazutora had this question stuck in his throat, sitting heavy against his vocal cords while the bitter taste of bile stained his tongue.
“Is…” he trailed off, still doubting whether he deserved to be asking such a question. “Is Mikey’s brother going to be okay?”
He tensed up at the lack of immediate response. The lack of positive reassurance that he hadn’t completely messed up everyone's lives made the grip he had on your arm grow tighter in fear of you letting go. 
You didn’t. You weren’t planning to do so. Even if nausea piled up at the end of your oesophagus as the conflicting set of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach, you were sure he needed you as much as you needed him to keep yourself grounded 
“He will.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, lips curled up into a smile once you felt him relax against you once again. “Right now he’s resting, we can visit him in a couple of days, if you’d like.” 
The silence amongst you became heavy once again, but inside Kazutora’s head the cacophony of your words bounced against the thick layers of bone and skin like worthless cries of distress. What he did was inconceivable, and in spite of that you still cared.
“I didn’t mean to,” barely a whisper, the words died out before they could be properly enunciated. They prickled and ached and stung at the walls of his throat. Something he couldn’t name but feel deeply inside his bones stopped himself from vomiting it all out. But mess after mess, like building blocks stacking one on top of the other, they piled up and pulled him down like a ball and chain made out of his own flesh and when he tried to pull at it to set himself free he could feel everything spilling out in a tangled cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I’m sorry!” he cried, clutching onto your shirt and arms, anything he could get a hold of to ensure you wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Holding him tightly and shushing his cries, you could do nothing more than let his tears wet at your shirt, mumble that it was okay even if it truly wasn’t; even if the two of you knew it was a lie. The weeping child in your arms did nothing but pull at your heartstring, conflicting feelings arising in your chest. In spite of the fondness you felt for the kid, the same fondness you felt for all of your little brother’s friends, you had unconsciously developed a grudge towards him, bitterness and resentment for hurting Shinichiro. 
Tumblr media
His lashes rested against his skin, casting thin shadows under the sunlight streaming through the window. He had always looked peaceful when he was sleeping, chest rising and falling as if following a metronome’s tempo. You can remember taking long summer naps next to him and the rest of your friends, you always being the first one to wake up. Every summer the three of them arrived late to at least five Black Dragon’s meetings because they had slept in. Shinichiro had developed this antsy habit of arriving weirdly on time yet slightly late ever since then, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of letting down whoever was waiting for him; you wonder how he’d react if he knew the shop wouldn’t open today.
So peaceful yet fragile., never in your life would’ve you remotely imagined you’d be sitting next to your best friend’s hospital bed, eyes puffy and droopy while his head laid covered in bandages. The beeping of the monitor filling up the unnecessary silence that wouldn’t have otherwise been there had he been awake. 
Had he been awake, he would’ve talked to you non-stop, retelling everything that went down to the most insignificant detail, sprinkling hyperboles as much as he could just to appear a little cooler in front of you. But it's not like he had to try anyway, to appear cooler, that is, you already thought he was the coolest person in the whole wide world; though you’d go as far as saying he was the coolest person to ever exist. The sole idea made you smile, tears welling up in your eyes as you wondered if he’d blush once he found out how highly you thought of him. 
And of course, had he been awake, he would’ve been worried about everyone but him. He would’ve asked about Mikey and Emma, if they had slept over at the hospital or at home with his grandfather, who he would’ve proceeded to ask about. He would’ve bitten his tongue to prevent himself from even mentioning the economic implications of his stay, but you would’ve been able to read right through him.
Then, had he been awake, he would’ve asked about Keisuke and Kazutora. He would’ve be worried about them, berated you with a flurry of questions, emotions switching from anger to guilt in less than a millisecond; angry at your deplorable encounter with the police, guilty because he was the one that called, and maybe if he hadn’t, then Mikey’s friends wouldn't have gotten in trouble.
He would’ve asked about the shop, if anyone was there watching over it while he was resting in the hospital, deflating a little after finding out it wouldn’t open for the day. He would’ve asked about Wakasa and Benkei and Takeomi, ask if they were aware of what happened, if they had already started making fun of him after finding out a twelve year-old sent him straight to the ER; he would’ve sighed at your response, shaking his head because instead of making fun of him his friends were worried. 
Finally, he’d ask about you. And maybe you would’ve cried or laughed or screamed. Maybe tears would’ve pooled in your eyes, the fact your friend was breathing finally sinking in. Maybe you would’ve giggled at your past unjustified worries because he was here now and you never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second. Maybe you would’ve broken down, fatigue deep in your bones pulling you to the ground until you could do nothing but lay cold and empty and happy on the floor because you had not dared sleep but at least the existence of his consciousness remained.
But the only one speaking was the wind blowing through the curtains, kissing his forehead and messing up his hair just to give you the opportunity to put it back in place through the insecure brush of your fingers
Resting your forehead next to the palm of his hand, you sighed in defeat; maybe you should’ve let him rest alone. You had spent the whole morning next to him, ignoring any hunger cues alerting you it was time for breakfast or lunch or any sort of meal time that could fuel your body from complete exhaustion. Still, even if you wanted to fall asleep, it was like your subconscious wouldn’t let you. Every time you closed your eyes and felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, you were jolted awake to your own dismay. 
Not being able to rest had started to eat away at your own sanity. Only eight hours had passed, but every second felt like a thousand and at this point, you had become a walking contradiction; hungry but unable to eat, tired yet unable to fall asleep. Your body was failing you, unable to react to any sort of external or internal stimuli, and you’re sure wouldn't be able to cry no matter how much you wanted to do so.
But even then, apparently you could still scream.
The weight of his hand on top of your head caught you off guard. It almost made you fall from the chair and smack your head against the bed’s metal skeleton. Maybe if you got a concussion and slipped into a weird pseudo-coma after a harrowing God-knows-how-many-hours-long surgery he’d feel guilty enough to make up for the tachycardia that had your heart beating where your brain should be.
“Hi.” He smiled, words a little slurred as the remaining anaesthesia wore off.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Oh, I see ‘you missed me alright.”
And you did. Even though less than a day had passed since the accident, picturing a whole lifetime without him was enough to permanently alter your brain chemistry. But he was here now, he was back and he was safe and the toothy grin he sported reminded you of home.
Tumblr media
“Don’t ‘cha know it’s rude to eat in front of someone who can only chew on ice chips?” He joked, flinching as the nurse adjusted his IV drip.
You were forced to leave the room after a flurry of hospital staff came running at your volatile reaction; Of course, you were quick to reassure that your friend had only woken up and that everything was fine, before leaving for the cafeteria; giving them some space to work on Shinichiro would be good. Plus, not that he was ‘okay’ and you weren’t worrying about his health every second of every minute of every hour, you could address the sudden pangs of hunger poking at your stomach. 
“I’ll buy you dinner once you get out.” You smiled, scooping some of the jell-o into your mouth through your innocent smile. But, again to your dismay, the mischievous glint in your eyes ratted you out. Shinichiro knew that ‘dinner’ meant the cheapest ramen you could find, maybe add an egg to spice it up, and ice cream you’d eat directly from the tub; a long lived tradition between the two of you. “I’ll even add chives this time.”
“Gee thanks,” he mocked, as if he’d rather do anything else than eat stale ramen with you. As long as he got the chance, he’d do anything. He’d probably lick the floor for you—not that he’d ever let you know, but if you asked he would, no questions asked. That’s what happens when you love someone. You’d be willing to do anything and everything for them even if it's irrational. “Can I choose the ice cream flavour at least?”
You hummed, focusing on scraping the plastic spoon against the plastic container in your hands to avoid his gaze. “Only this time though, so don’t get used to it.”
“Everything’s looking good so far, we’ll do another check up in a couple of hours.” 
Right, you were still in here. Talking like everything was seemingly normal made you forget that you were still in the hospital, watching over your post-op, bedridden friend. 
“Lay with me?” he asked, not before the both of you thanked the nurse who excused himself after gathering the remaining equipment. “Please?”
You shouldn’t, something inside your head made sure to let you know even if the urge to hold him close was overpowering. He had just barely woken up after a long emergency surgery, and you taking up space would be of no help for him to get the rest he needed. But the silent plea in the puppy dog eyes you had trained yourself so hard to resist, the subtle pout and the cute dopey-ness that had yet to wear off were far too tempting to resist. 
His little celebratory cheer made you inwardly squeal as you slowly moved to his side, watching him wince in pain while he slowly shuffled himself closer to the edge in a clumsy attempt to make some space for you.
The thumping of his heartbeat reverberated in his chest, the stress melting from out your bones. You couldn’t help but sigh in content once you laid your head on his chest. Now that you were wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like you could finally rest.
“Tired?” He mumbled against your hair, breaking the silence that had settled in the room as you basked in each other’s presence. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek against his body and almost purring like a cat at his warmth. Letting your eyes close involuntarily, you couldn’t help but be lulled to a premature slumber. With how comfortable you looked, and because your obnoxious yawning was too contagious, he wanted to do nothing but follow in your footsteps. 
Instead, his eyes stayed wide open and stuck to the ceiling as if the off off-white paint that covered the concrete was the key to shutting down his brain long enough for sleep to take over. It didn’t matter that his blood had been infused with what felt like at least twenty hundred thousand milligrams of various pain-deafening substances that were sure to knock him out in a matter of seconds, falling asleep seemed to be an unattainable goal.
Whatever they had injected into his body increased his senses’ sensitivity, multiplying it times a hundred instead of dulling them down to nothing. And it didn’t stop at the uncomfortable overtly bright fluorescent lights or the suddenly deafening sound of unoiled wheels from hospital carts being rolled around. It was the way he could feel you barely resting your weight against his body, as if scared the least amount of pressure would make his heart stop. The way he was met with your now dull eyes, almost bloodshot but not quite, sunken with a thick coat of desperation, or fear, or some sort of premature grief, as soon as he woke up. Or how, in spite of only being gone for less than a day, it seemed like you had spent a lifetime unable to exist alongside everything you held dear.
Hyper aware of all those little details and more, it hit him without warning, and suddenly, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry.
It prickled uncomfortably at his eyes, the skin around his charcoal orbs itching like it was on fire. His mouth felt cottony, smothering his airways and cutting his airflow while his tongue rested uncharacteristically heavy in his mouth with the weight of unsaid words. It broke all his bones at once, leaving him numb on the ground, still like a corpse, and unable to suppress the dooming feeling of his own life spilling from his pores, mixing with his blood until the air around him turned thick and metallic.
In the blink of an eye he had been one step closer to the grave, barely hanging onto a thread of consciousness as the view of his shop turned blurrier and blurrier, and now he was breathing. His lungs had finally regained consciousness and he could feel everything around him overwhelmingly loud and clear and close and real. 
Now awake, he could feel you laying on top of him, almost passed out due to the immeasurable amount of stress he had put you under. And maybe if it wasn’t for his reckless habit of parading around life with his guard lowered or for the lack of proper security measures at the shop—because who on earth would rob him? There’s no way he could be that unlucky. Impossible. Or maybe it was his inability to dodge, to hold his stance in a fight because even if he was strong, without proper technique he was rendered useless and, holy shit– he could’ve died.
He could’ve died and then Manjiro would’ve been forced to grow up way too soon because he would have to take care of Emma and grandpa—although knowing both his siblings, Emma was more likely to turn into the head of the house. And then his friends would’ve been left to grieve his death, make sad speeches about the best moments they had together and, fuck was Takeomi terrible at writing; his speech would just be a big mess of incoherent words stuck together. And what about the shop? Who was he leaving the shop to? And what about Inupi? Inupi was just a kid and he can’t just leave him all alone; he had promised to himself to take care of him the same way he took care of his siblings— fuck, Izana as well. Who was going to look after his brother? He was planning to introduce him to all of you guys soon. The two of you would’ve gotten along so well and,
And you. 
What about you?
You looked beyond heartbroken. Words couldn't begin to describe exactly what somberness mulled deep within that brain of yours. If this is how you reacted to the possibility of him dying, then how would’ve you reacted to him actually doing so?
A choked sob rips through his lips, the sound painful as it breaches its forceful containment.
“Shin–”
“I’m sorry.”
“What…” you trailed off. The strained cry had erased any speck of slumber. For a second you thought you had dreamt it, that your brain had finally gone off the rails and you were hearing imaginary voices. That was until you looked up at him, eyes welling up with unshed tears, body stiff as if to prevent them from falling. “What’re you sorry for?”
“I just remembered the beach trip we were planning for Manjiro’s birthday,” he sniffled, “and I think we’re gonna have to cancel.”
“That’s okay, we can reschedule—”
“Yeah but I– I know he was really excited for it, all his friends were.”
“We’ll talk to them, make sure they understand—”
“And you were excited about it too,” avoiding your eyes even after you had tried to coax him into meeting yours. He felt so far away, almost unreachable despite laying right next to you. “And I know how much you love the beach and I really wanted to go with you even if we were gonna have to chaperone six hyperactive children,
“And, and I know the guys were gonna come with and we had it all perfectly planned out with this huge dorayaki cake thing and now we’re gonna have to cancel because of me—”
“Wait,” you shush him as gently as possible, sitting up and holding his hand tightly between yours. “What do you mean ‘because of me’?”
Almost as if he had never started, your question managed to shut down his rambling like forcefully closing a water faucet. He had this estranged, far-off look darkening his face, eyes glassy, almost as if he were dissociating. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. Never in your many, many, years of friendship had you seen him lose himself like this.
“Because,” he paused, trying to swallow down the knot grappling at his throat, fighting off the urge to tear it off with his bare hands. “Because it's my fault we’re cancelling.”
“I– What’re you talking about?”
He groaned in desperation. Why was this so hard to explain? 
“I’m the one who’s bedridden.” Still dizzy after waking up and to the best of his ability, he tried sitting up, wincing in pain to then give up and lean into his forearms. “I’m the one with random needles poking through my skin, fresh off the ER because my skull was bashed into with one of my own tools and maybe, just maybe, if I had been more aware at the time, I could've avoided the hit.”
“Shin, this wasn’t your fault—”
“But it is! Can't you see?” 
“Shin–”
“D’you know what I did when I heard someone break the glass?” He looked at you expectantly, voice raised in frustration. “After I called the cops; do you?” You shook your head in response, knowing that any attempt to help him calm down would be futile. “I grabbed a wrench. 
“After the operator told me to hide and wait for help because I told them it sounded like more than one person was inside, I grabbed a stupid wrench and decided to face them,
“I decided to face them even if I'm well aware I wouldn’t be able to take two people at once.”
And though he seemed to be dead set on believing that somehow he managed to land himself in the hospital,  you wouldn’t allow him to give himself up to the restless thoughts, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge the bitter part of his brain that had gotten used to putting himself down. 
“Someone hit you from behind,” you tried, “you were ambushed, of course you wouldn't be able to take them on.”
His defeated sigh gave you some sort of uncomfortable comfort. Knowing it made you glad that he had finally given up was a conflicting feeling you wish to never re-examine or experience again.
You sat up, swallowing the foreign relief down, and scooted further up the bed’s backrest. Your elbow rested well above the pillow where he laid, and you couldn't help but use your leverage to gently brush your fingers through his hair, only relaxing once he visibly melted against your touch.
“You didn’t do this to yourself, this wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, fingertips soothing his worries as they ghosted the skin of his forehead. “You’re not responsible for every single thing that goes wrong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are.”
He can’t recall a single moment in his life in which he felt like he was relieved from his self-imposed duty—the duty of an older brother, primary caretaker, and practically a parent. Someone who must put everyone’s needs above his own well-being. He’s responsible for everything going on around him, the good, the bad, the neutral, the everything. It only made sense that the break in and the subsequent series of events were, in part, his responsibility. 
And he knew it was irrational thinking because how on earth would he have known what was going to happen? But he couldn’t help it, not when all the consequences of his actions reflected on the bigger picture; everyone relies on Shinichiro Sano, and it was his duty to fulfil. 
“And I promise you no one is disappointed in you. Not a single one of us.” You press your lips against the top of his head, smiling through your own teary eyes at the little hum he involuntarily let out. “We’re all so, so happy that you're awake and talking and I bet Manjiro would rather move his beach birthday party a hundred years from now than lose his brother six days before his birthday,
“The beach is not going anywhere, and neither are we, okay? We are not going anywhere.” 
And you knew it wasn’t not enough. Your words weren’t enough to shut up the swirling negativity spiral in his brain. But at least it was enough to calm him down, enough for him to fall asleep in spite of the dampness kissing his skin; he might have successfully managed to suppress the heart wrenching sobs, but he was not strong enough to hold back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks.
Tumblr media
You follow through not long after, head lolling to the side in an uncomfortable position that would for sure leave your neck aching for days. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no dreaming this time. No nightmares or worst case scenarios crafted deep within your subconscious. In spite of the gloomy circumstances, the two of you had fallen asleep. Finally, being in your arms was beyond comforting. Plus, indulging in the rest your body had craved for hours made it easier to regain consciousness once Manjiro decided to jump on the two of you in surprise, never minding the possibility of further injuring his brother by mistake.
Being on the receiving end of his lovable violence hurt more than you thought it would, one of his hands landing straight on your stomach and the other on Shinichiro’s chest, but you couldn’t blame the kid. Based on what Keisuke had confided in you last night, Manjiro had witnessed both his best friends’ arrest as well as his brother being pulled out unconscious on a stretcher out of the shop.
Beyond a muffled apology, he didn’t utter anything else, like his voice had given in. He clung onto Shinichiro’s body like his life depended on it. 
A swift knock on the door caught your attention, though Manjiro didn't even bother looking up, face tucked against his brother’s body, letting himself relax as his brother’s fingers threaded through his blond locks. 
Emma poked her head from behind the wall, hands holding onto the door frame for balance. From where you laid you could see how her eyes were almost as puffy as yours. They were rimmed with a bright red, the same shade that was splotched all over her cheeks and nose. Mansaku stood beside her, holding onto his hat.
You could physically feel the relief washing over Shinichiro the moment he saw his whole family entering the room. He laid lighter next to you, with a brighter smile decorating his lips. It was like his body had melted from hard concrete right into a puddle, your previous conversation seemingly forgotten as a twinkle of warmth returned to his pretty eyes.
Careful not to let Manjiro fall in the dent you were leaving as you stood up, you beckoned Emma over. She cuddled up to Shinichiro, clinging onto him while her soft sniffles filled the silent room, and you swore you had almost started tearing up again at the sight.
Mansaku placed a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise as he acknowledged your presence. Like a wordless thank you, he nodded at you before stepping closer towards the bed, letting his hand rest on Shinichiro’s, and gently squeezed as if making sure his grandson was truly there. 
In no way shape or form was it the perfect family meetup—a perfect one wouldn’t entail the eldest-grandson-slash-parental-figure stuck in a hospital bed. But by the way they huddled together, Shinichiro pinching Manjiro’s cheeks, the latter not even fighting him off like he usually would, and patting Emma’s head in reassurance, with Mansaku displaying the ghost of a smile as he stood next to his grandchildren, the four of them gave off the feeling of everything being okay.
The familiar warmth between them left you to watch the scene like an outsider in a third-person point of view. It made you feel like you were intruding, messily glued to one of those fancy family portraits. 
In spite of both your families spending the majority of their lives around one another, you weren’t a Sano. No matter how close Keisuke and Manjiro were, no matter how much Shinichiro and you acted like a married couple with at least five children, you were never going to be one. You knew this from the start, but even so, the knowledge didn’t stop the churning of a deeply seeded loneliness inside your stomach. 
You didn’t bother with your goodbyes. Even if you had promised Shinichiro you’d spend the rest of the day together—pretending to be bothered and reluctant when you sealed it with a ‘pinky promise’ to hide the fact you’d willingly play nurse whenever he needed it—something from within told you it was your time to leave, you weren’t that important after all.
The question swirled inside your skull, bitter as it scratched your bones, as you leaned against the walls outside the hospital. At first, you intended to camp out in a waiting room, maybe join them after you had finally calmed down, but instead your legs had taken you right outside, landing you in a secluded area between the building and the many trees surrounding it so you could confidently retrieve the crushed package from your back pocket without disturbing anyone
Your thumb burned as you attempted to roll the sparkwheel of your zippo lighter, the metal forming uncomfortable crevices against your skin. You had to hold back the urge to bite down on the cigarette you had clumsily stuck between your teeth instead of your lips, frustration welling up and threatening to burst from the seams that clumsily held you together. 
Waiting for the uncomfortable itch to burn at your throat, you traced the outline of the red koi fish at the corner of the lighter, eroded after thumbing at it like a nervous tick over the years. Every time you felt your eyes water you made sure to compulsively take another drag, as if the smoke could cloud your thoughts, mixing them up with the familiar nostalgia.
Anyone would think that after incinerating your taste buds with each stick you burn, you’d get used to the taste. Whoever said it gets easier the more you do it was a liar. They were as disgusting as ever, flavour the exact same as those you had tried when you were younger, fooling around with your friends. It first started when Shinichiro and Takeomi brought a couple of cigarettes they had stolen from his grandfather to one of your hang outs. It prompted the three of you to continuously choke and make fun of each other for doing so until there were only mustard coloured butts squished on the floor. 
Neither Takeomi nor you had really enjoyed the experience, but for some reason, Shinichiro was quick to grow fond of the taste. He made sure to carry around a twelve-pack wherever he went, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in strategic places so the smell wouldn’t stick to his hair or clothes. Not soon after, the rather unhealthy habit had extended to the remaining two of you, who couldn’t help but carry your own packs to satisfy your newly birthed cravings. 
Looking back, you’re sure younger-you did that to be a little more like Shinichiro, just like Takeomi, and for other even more childish reasons like appearing more mature and attractive in his eyes; you clearly remember him having a thing for older women for a while. Sure, the two of you were the same age but still, you felt like he didn’t see you like you wanted him to, and the only way for you to change that would be to gain some more common ground with him right? 
So yeah, just like Takeomi, you wanted to be more like Shinchiro, but unlike Takeomi—as far as you know—you had started buying cigarette packets mainly to share back and forth with your best friend in, what you would call, a weak attempt at flirting. 
At least the cringe memory managed to rip you out from the insecurity whirlpool you were being sucked into, making you groan while softly hitting your head against the concrete wall. Thank god Wakasa existed to berate you into stopping the unhealthily embarrassing habit. Back then you were just a kid, but were you being for real? Were you seriously intending to build your whole life around a man to the point you’d indulge in one of the most common and deadliest habits in the world for a slim chance at a high-school romance? Fuck, was younger-you so painfully stupid to even think–
“One of you is already in the hospital, we don't need you to auto-hospitalise.”
The old man’s voice made you jump, fumbling with the cigarette until it fell to the floor. You tried to hide the coughing fit to the best of your ability while frantically stomping on the lit stick laying on the ground. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were still terrified of getting caught smoking by the man.
“Would you mind sharing one with me?” He asked, ignoring the way your face morphed into a confused frown. With nimble fingers, you opened your cigarette pack once again, handing him your lighter when he was unable to fetch his from his pockets.
“You still smoke?” You questioned, adding a hasty ‘sir’ once you noticed how informal you had sounded. 
He chuckled in response, taking another puff. “I only stopped doing it in front of the children.”
This time it was your turn to chuckle, playing with the gravel underneath your feet to avoid looking at the man at your slip-up. Still, even with your gaze fixated on the ground you could tell he was looking at you in curiosity. 
“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just,” clearing your throat, you stumbled with your words, debating in your head whether you should come up with one of your horrid cover ups or tell the truth. “You always smoked around us when we were little, like you didn’t care.”
You thought he would’ve left you alone after that, knowing you were purposely disrespectful towards him. It would’ve been better that way. Then you would’ve been left to wallow in your own self-pity in peace, with no one to stop you from finishing the seven remaining cigarettes. But he didn’t, taking you aback as he stayed rooted right by your side. 
Had you been anyone else, he would’ve called them out. To cover up his own embarrassment or to make up for the disrespect? Not even he could be sure. But he had seen you grow up next to his own grandchildren, sharing your love and caring nature with them along with your mild irascibility and your talent for keeping Shinichiro on a tight leash. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, even if most of your one-on-one interactions had consisted of you running away from him before he managed to scold you. 
He had only stopped smoking once Manjiro was born, self-awareness finally sinking into his thick skull as he watched his two grandsons play together. No one had questioned him back then, letting him sit on the couch undisturbed while he read the morning paper. It was only after Sakurako had passed away, that he had started to notice the many areas he was lacking, watching both Shinichiro and you fill the gaps in each other’s broken homes while he alienated himself from the responsibility of taking care of his family. The two of you worked so in sync, he would be of no help—or at least that was what he had told himself.
“I wasn’t the best grandfather.”
“You think?”
“I know.” He smiled at your attitude; snappy as always, the only difference was the way you now recoiled in embarrassment at your slip ups. Using his fingers to get rid of the ash, he tapped on the back of the cigarette before taking another drag. “Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t.”
Not even a noise of acknowledgement, your vocal chords had closed themselves shut at the man’s sudden mild vulnerability. Out of all the things you expected him to ever say to you, a ‘thank you’ was never on the list. He was always sporting his characteristic cartoonish frown, speaking to everyone in a clipped tone with pointed words.
“You’re more important to us than you think.” He stepped on the cigarette butt. “That is one of the reasons why I can’t let you believe what happened to my grandson was in any way your fault.”
“‘Sorry?” You mumbled in confusion, his words pulling yet another frown onto your face; did you miss any pivotal points in the conversation? How had the conversation switched from his apparent familial issues to you? 
“I know you feel guilty for what happened, even if you weren’t involved.” He sighed, not bothering to look you in the eye before continuing his speech. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s doing.”
“Yeah,” you scoffed in mild amusement, as if that wasn’t something you’ve been trying to tell yourself; all Bajis share their fuckups. But then again, of course he wouldn’t understand. “Easier said than done.”
This time you didn’t try to make up for the way had snapped at him. And bless the man for being able to read the room, because he didn’t push the conversation further. Deep down he knew you needed the outlet; you may have already cried, but all your anger was still pent up inside of you. And after everything you had done for him and his family, it was the least he could do for you. 
“It doesn’t matter what we believe, we’re always responsible for everyone’s mess.” You scoff in dismay. “It’s like we were born for our families to have a provisional caretaker. 
“So thank you for trying to tell me I didn’t break into Shinchiro’s shop, I know I didn’t, but it's still my mess to fix.” The aftertaste of the words laid heavy in your mouth, trickling down your throat like bitter bile tearing through the tissue. You didn’t like how they sounded; they were too impersonal, too selfish. You took a deep breath, holding yourself upright in spite of the pang in your chest. “Not that i wouldn’t have taken care of Shin if someone else had been responsible for what happened, I lo– I– I care too much about him to just leave him be but its just—”
You cleared your throat, “If I had made sure I knew where Keisuke was going or, or if I had actually tried to listen to him when he told me he didn’t know what to give Manjiro for his birthday then maybe– just…” 
You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence without breaking down the walls of the dam you thought you had finally managed to piece back together. You didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding them back up, you don’t think you’d be able to do it as quickly as you’d want to. But you weren’t venting your sorrows to the wind. Mansaku Sano was still standing next to you, hands locked behind his back as he waited for you to continue, and though he was well aware of the times in which he had to remain quiet, he also knew when it was time to speak up. 
“Then what?”
“Then,” you swallow, “then none of this would’ve happened, and he would’ve been okay.”
Your body itched for another cigarette, pawing at your skull for you to smother down the tears spouting from your eyes, even if the smoke would make your eyes teary once again. But with Mansaku Sano standing next to you, you didn’t dare touch a single one; it didn’t matter that you had just finished spilling your pent up emotions, you drew the line at smoking with Shinichiro’s grandfather. The thought sprouted a melancholic smile on your lips; Shinichiro would have a field day when he finds out what just went down.
The only thing left you had to ground yourself was the cold metal of your lighter, already starting to heat up at the warmth of your skin. You ran your thumb over it once again, the pattern already engraved in your mind. The habit had probably developed out of your need to be comforted by familiarity—of course the lighter was the right candidate, from its colour and texture, size and temperature, you had everything about it memorised like the back of your hand. 
“It’s a really nice lighter.” You hadn't realised you were playing with it until he spoke up; twirling it between your fingers over and over again, flipping it open and close, lighting it up before shutting the lid and extinguishing the flame. 
“Thanks,” you sniffled, and right after you finished speaking, your voice hoarse and tired, you regretted ever doing so. You felt like a child once again; like when your mom tried to comfort you after you had scraped your knee, or when a couple of older middle-schoolers had beaten your friends up. A child like when the day was finally over and you had to go back home from a play-date, or when your favourite toy had fallen inside the river while walking over a bridge. You regretted speaking the minute you had discovered your voice sounded as weak as you felt, and yet, at the mention of your beloved trinket, you felt the warm giddiness wash over your body forcing you to speak. And so, once again like a child, you did. “I got it at a summer festival, Shin got it for me.”
Tumblr media
“I thought you said you wanted to come visit him.”
For a minute Keisuke didn’t speak. He looked straight at the ground, feet planted on the floors like roots had grown out of him as he held your hand.
Earlier this morning he had clung onto your waist while angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The moment he caught sight of you putting your shoes on the genkan he had broken into a run, letting his body smash against yours, and almost making you lose your balance. Both you and your mom had tried your hardest to calm him down for what felt like hours but to no avail. He persisted, begging for you to let him accompany you to the hospital. 
Outside of Shinichiro’s room, it was a whole other story. All of a sudden he had decided he didn’t want to see him eye to eye. His reaction made you internally groan in frustration. Had you listened to your own gut feeling telling you Keisuke wasn’t ready to come with you, it would’ve saved him the stress of making a choice for himself. Instead, you were too weak to his puppy dog eyes and wobbly pleas, and now his eyes had started to water as he tried to hold back his own hiccups. 
“I promise Shin-nii isn’t angry at you,” you cooed, kneeling down to the floor and looking up at him. When had he gotten this tall? When had he grown this much? Were your efforts enough to shape him into a decent person? “and if you truly don't feel comfortable we can go home, I promise I won’t get angry.”
He rubbed at his teary eyes with his free hand before nodding at you, trailing behind you as you stood up and knocked on the door.
“Hey!” you poked your head into the room with a smile, one that faltered as you tried to keep your mouth from falling open in awe once you noticed how the sunlight streaming from the window kissed every inch of Shinichiro’s skin as he quietly read the book you had given him as a joke. He looked up at you, pearly whites all up for display, and mumbled a soft mumbled a soft ‘hey’ right back at you; he looked so pretty he could be mistaken for an angel. “I brought Keisuke with me, ‘that okay?”
He hummed in response, marking the page he was reading before setting it aside. Even after the events that took place at the shop, you knew he wouldn’t mind your brother visiting—he had a soft spot for him after all. The verbal confirmation was more for Keisuke’s sake, who prompted by it, let go of your hand and walked into the room, a tinge of fear staining each step he took. 
Shinichiro grinned, gently waving his way. And though the both of you had always found some sense of comfort in the warmth of his smile, it took less than a second for Keisuke to burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body as he stood frozen in the middle of the room, frantically drying out his cheeks with his forearms in vain. Tears kept pouring from his caramel eyes down to his cheeks until they stained his striped shirt.
At the sight of his distress, Shinichiro tried standing up as quickly as possible, almost ripping off his tangled IV. Thankfully, you managed to stop him before he could; the moment your brother had started crying you were already by his side wrapping your arms around his fragile figure.
Much like you had done the past few days, you combed his hair with your fingers while shushing his cries. It had become almost like a habit, Keisuke running to you in the middle of the day, hugging you close while you dried his tears for him. You’d think he’d ran out of tears by now, but something you didn’t take into account was how similar the two of you were, always feeling everything too much, all at once.
“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, “you’re okay, and Shin-nii’s okay, see?” you asked him, holding his tear streaked cheeks and motioning his face to meet your gaze, waiting for his breathing to even out before you coaxed him into looking at Shinichiro. “We’ve got you, the two of us, we've got you.”
He smiled at him once again, though you could see a twinkle of sadness in his eyes, as extended one of his hands for him to take. Warily, he warmed up to the invitation, wiping the remaining tears from his face before dragging his feet to the edge of the bed, asking if he could sit with him in a very un-Keisuke nature; it was unusual for him to ask before acting on his impulses.
Shinichiro softened once he felt Keisuke nuzzling his cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, and as he did so you couldn’t help but think how his hair kept getting longer and longer with each day; hopefully no one from the school office would call you letting you know it was time to chop it off once classes were back in session.
In between hushed whispers, they talked amongst each other for a while. At first, Baji kept giving one word responses, still insecure in spite of your reassurance, but it wasn’t long before he started to loosen up, giggling between sniffles at Shinichiro’s questions and mocking his ‘honorary-brother’ back with teary jabs.
It was a solid dynamic they had been able to build after years of trust and consistent interaction; your two favourite boys extending their love to each other like they were flesh and blood. In that way, the two of them were similar, fiercely loyal and willing to give themselves up for those they loved. You were grateful that Shinichiro was there for Keisuke as he grew up, unknowingly making up for everything you lacked.
The mumble of your name caught your attention, popping your nostalgia blown bubble. Keisuke and Shinichiro alike were beckoning you over, the latter extending his arm as the two of them scooted over and patted the free space next to him.
He held your hand like you were a princess stepping onto a carriage, gingerly helping you keep your balance as you toed-off your shoes. You let out a sigh once you plopped yourself on the bed, letting his arm curl around your shoulders while he kept your hands interlocked, rubbing the skin with his thumb. In spite of the giddiness warming your stomach, you forced yourself to roll your eyes in response when he teasingly asked if you were comfortable, pretending to be bothered by his apparent clinginess 
“‘Your sister made you try the jell-o cups already?” he asked Keisuke, the younger boy looking up at him through puffy eyes and wet lashes, and once he shook his head in response he whistled, turning towards you as if disappointed. “You haven’t made him try ‘em yet?” 
“‘Came straight to see you.” You brushed off, pretending you didn’t feel his body tense beside you and smiling to yourself in subtle victory when he gulped.
“You should’ve gone to the cafeteria first.” He scolded jokingly, clicking his tongue as if that would help him hide his blushing cheeks that hurt from his own shy affection. Soon after, he switched his attention to your brother, ruffling his hair before speaking, “Remember those jell-o cups you used to share with Manjiro and Haruchiyo? The ones they sold at the konbini?”
“Yeah, but they don't have ‘em anymore,” Keisuke pouted, brows furrowed in thought. His sharp canines poked at his bottom lip, tilting his head up at Shinichiro and grinning. “Mikey almost fought the cashier guy when we found out they stopped selling them!”
“Yeah, I remembered that.” He chuckled, recalling the time he had heard the employee complain about Manjiro’s sudden aggression on one of his morning milk runs. “But guess what?” he sat on his forearms, dragging out the silence to build anticipation. He waited for the two of you to raise your heads from his chest, sharing an evident impatience as you urged him to continue. He took a deep breath before grinning once again. “They still sell ‘em over here.”
“No way! Really?!” The boy stood up in less than a second, forcing you to grab onto the neck of his t-shirt to prevent him from falling flat on his ass while he cried in glee, tears seemingly forgotten. Those jell-o cups in particular had been a staple of everyone’s childhood; you had been eating those snacks for years and years. You can clearly remember the clear disappointment in his face when he told you they had been discontinued, his somberness rubbing off on you.
“Yeah!” Shinichiro exclaimed back, scooting closer to your brother and placing one of his hands on the bed railing behind your brother, aiding you in your task of preventing Keisuke from falling to the ground. The memory had suddenly made its wake into his consciousness after mulling over ways to comfort your brother and coming up empty handed, until he had suddenly turned to his bedside table where an empty plastic cup sat with a flimsy disposable spoon. “Manjiro and Emma got a bunch from the cafeteria to take home, you could do the same.”
You were almost taken aback by the speed he used to turn his face towards you, surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash before he asked you with as much excitement he could muster, “Can we?! Please, please!?”
His pleading words made his bronze eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. You smiled and nodded without a shadow of a doubt that you’d do anything in your power to keep the toothy grin you missed on his lips.
“Does that mean I can go get one now?” He pleaded, tilting his head and yet again putting on display the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “Please? I haven't had one in years, I wanna know if they’re the same as I remember.”
“Knock yourself out.” Shinichiro said before you could respond, ruffling Keisuke’s hair before the latter jumped down, ignoring the fact you didn’t give him a proper response before running off to the cafeteria.
You sighed unimpressed, turning towards the man beside you and letting yourself slump against his figure. His chuckle only made you roll your eyes.
“What? Were you planning to say no to him?” 
He knew you too well for your own good.
“Shut up.” With a gentle push you force him back down on the bed, elbowing him lightly in the process and pressing your head back against his chest. You almost hum in satisfaction when he let himself fall back down without resistance, caving in under your touch. “I could’ve said no.”
“Yeah, right.” This time, he was the one rolling his eyes, mocking your mannerisms and chuckling when you smiled, hoping the apparent ‘nonchalance’ would mask his now increased heart rate, and the faster beating coming from the vital sign monitor.
“I could’ve!” You tried to sit up in retaliation, pretending to be annoyed, yet you didn’t resist when he pulled you back down. He held down his own giggling once he felt you cuddling up closer to his side, tracing random patterns on his dotted hospital gown and realising too late how close both your hands were. The proximity made you nervous; even if the two of you were practically laying one on top of the other, holding hands felt like a foreign act of intimacy. 
Subtly enough, you tried reaching out for the tip of his fingers, moving what seemed like less than a millimetre per minute. Soon enough, he took notice of your plan; hesitantly, he moved his own towards you, letting your fingertips rest against each other for a couple of seconds, like he was asking for your permission, before interlocking his fingers with yours.
“You really can’t stay away from me, can you?” he teased, gaze focused on your entwined hands through his lashes as he felt too shy to look anywhere near your face. It seemed that hiding the pink-ish blush staining his cheek had become his number one priority; you were so close, so everywhere, he wouldn’t want it any other way, even if the closest he’d get to you would be through friendly teasing, bordering the line of ‘definitely, a 100% and unmistakably platonic’ flirting. 
In your mind, you were desperately scavenging for any semblance of a comeback, preferably witty and with the same energy he was giving you.Instead, all you did was sigh.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
You blamed the gusty confession on a moment of weakness, likely born out of your depleting energy mixed with the way his hand fit against yours like two perfectly carved puzzle pieces. You weren’t sure why you had said what you did, the way you did; voice softening as the longing you had suppressed your whole life coated every syllable that rolled down your tongue. 
He hummed in response, giddy and satisfied, before backtracking in confusion. The lack of sarcasm or annoyance lighthearted mockery caught the two of you off-guard, though it seemed to have a bigger impact on him as his body tensed up for a moment. If you were to look up at him, you’d probably see his head tilted to the side, with warm cheeks and the ghost of a frown clouding his features.
And that’s exactly why you don’t. 
Not like this; you wouldn't allow yourself to do so, wouldn’t even dare. Not when the stakes were this high, multiple worst outcomes served on a silver platter for you to choose because once you look up at him he would notice the way you see him, like he hung up each individual constellation up in the sky on his own and then all of it would be over for you.
For the both of you. 
“Do you, uh,” the slight shake in his voice made you gulp, like you had an inkling of a very possible question he could ask. Maybe this would finally be the end of your friendship which, to your own dismay, could be very easily broken by other things that weren’t death itself, “do you know if Keisuke has talked to Manjiro yet?”
You cleared your throat, holding back the sigh of relief, and shook your head. “I don’t think he knows how.”
“He’s scared?” 
“I think so,” you pondered, “they’ve been friends since forever, I think he’s scared of losing…him.”
Knowing that both you and your brother’s situation overlapped in so many ways felt weird; both Baji siblings were scared to lose their respective Sano brothers. It sounded funny, almost cute, like both Bajis and Sanos were meant to stick together generation after generation. You would’ve giggled at the thought, explain the parallels between the two relationships to Shinichiro and laugh at the silliness of it, yet the fear that had taken possession of your body the last couple of days lingered at the thought. 
Scared of losing him.
You almost choked on the words sitting heavy in your mouth, like you had confessed to a crime. Had you been alone, maybe they would’ve urged you to cry.
“Hey, ‘you okay?” You hadn’t realised that the worry had bled onto your face, dripping down your cheeks and coating your eyelashes with sorrow until he spoke up, tearing you away from your trance. But you couldn’t help it, the lingering torture you endured at the hands of your brain replaying past events, from the bailing your brother out of jail as he sobbed to having Wakasa answer the call for you, Kazutora crying in your arms and Shinichiro blaming himself for his own accident, the more you felt like losing yourself in his embrace, tightening your hold on his hand. “You left me there for a second I thought–”
“No.”
“What?”
“No, I’m–” you stuttered, “I don’t think I’m okay, I–”
Rejection after rejection, you’ve seen what felt like an infinite amount of his confessions go sideways, and yet he handled each and every one of them with grace. You’d attribute his resilience to the amount of first hand experience he’s had with it, and though at first it had taken a big toll on him. By now, rejection was nothing to him. He could make a fool of himself in front of anyone and he really wouldn’t care; he has told you so himself. 
But you were not Shinichiro, and you could never be him.
You were resentful and impulsive, oftentimes reacting way before you think. You were impatient and whiny, though you tried your best to suppress that particular trait to no avail. You were a selfish, self-destructive being that somehow managed to keep the insecure neediness brewing inside on the down low. 
And you could go on. You could go on because you were stubborn, volatile, melodramatic and a part of your brain really does think you were just setting yourself up for failure listing every single negative character trait that comes to mind. But it didn’t matter because that just further proves you're not Shinichiro Sano, that you were never going to be Shinichiro Sano because you were weak.
Too weak to answer the call, too weak not to try and escape uncomfortable situations, too weak to hold back the urge for a smoke, too weak to forgive Kazutora, too weak to confess your feelings for your best friend even after bawling your eyes out at the thought of a life without him.
Too weak, too weak, too weak. 
Being weak is all you’ve ever known. 
The thoughts poured and they wouldn’t stop, crashing against each other like the same bumper carts you rode along with Shinichiro at the funfair with your siblings. Back then, you were all smiles and laughter, and right now you wondered if the two of you would’ve held hands if it wasn’t for Emma sitting in the middle of you both.
And he was so warm next to you, not pressuring you to clarify whatever word-vomit you just spewed instead of a proper comeback. So sweet as he squeezed your hand to let you know he was there to help in whichever way he could to lull your worries to sleep. So kind as he took care of you when you should be the one taking care of him. Always so him.
You had no right to be a coward, at least not in front of one of the strongest and bravest people you’ve ever met. It wasn’t fair. Listing your flaws from the top of your head would never justify your body preventing itself from spilling the truth just so you could try and grasp at the fragile strings of self-pity to sew yourself back together as unspoken words necrotize your tongue. 
The same way you wouldn’t dare look at him, you wouldn’t dare stay away from him. It’d kill you just to try. So fuck every martyrish thought in your head, fuck the burned cigarette butts stained with indirect kisses, fuck the many nights the two of you spent stargazing in his garden, the infinite amount of chocolates you bought him for valentine’s day to make up for the emptiness of his locker; and the countless times he had dropped everything he was doing for the chance to spend just a couple of minutes with you. Fuck the worn out red koi fish engraved on your lighter and the possibility of breaking the promise you two made of never straying away from each other.
“I can’t stay away from you,” you took a deep breath, “I think I’d rather die than live a life without you,
“The sole idea of losing you almost sent me over the edge, and even after you were out of surgery I was a mess,” you stopped yourself again, giving yourself the chance to swallow down the knot in your throat; it didn’t work. “I was going insane without being able to talk your ear off because even when I talk about something you couldn’t give a shit about you still give a shit, you give so many shits when it comes to me, too many,
“You’re loyal and gentle and charming and you’re always smiling, and it's like, it's like you're absolutely everything good and even then you genuinely have no idea how wrapped around your finger I truly am, 
“And I don't think I’ve ever properly thanked you for existing because I don't think I’d be the same person I am right now if it wasn't for you, and even if I'm not perfect, I- I wouldn't trade myself for a better version if that meant you wouldn’t be in my life.
“So, yeah, I guess you’re right, I don’t think I can,” you let your shoulders sag, like the confession finally burned years upon years of cover-ups and excuses and fake scenarios you had come up with before bed stored in the darkest depth of your brain. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stay away from you.”
Pensive, he melted further against the pillows, letting his muscles melt at the sound of his own sighing. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you hear his smile reverberating throughout his body, and the sole idea of him possibly reciprocating your feelings made you impossibly giddy; a little too giddy. It was easy, after all, to get your hopes up once you lose yourself in him, his warmth and comfort. And for less than a second, you can see your hypothetical future with him pass right in front of your eyes, forcing you to accept a premature victory. But as the silence between the two of you started to drag itself out, you couldn't help but reluctantly welcome the acrid heartbreak tearing through your skin.
“I’m sorry,” you tensed up, “I shouldn’t have–”
“No, no, it's–,” he blurted out tongue tied as if your words had snapped him out of a trance, mirroring the same giddiness you had displayed with the same hint of hesitancy, “no one has talked about me like that, I guess it just caught me off-guard.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I don’t– don’t think I'd be able to stay away from you either– not that I want to, of course it's just– sorry give me a minute.” Looking off to the side, he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and pinching his cheeks, the skin already stained with all sorts of shades of pink. For him, it was inevitable not to become all shy and flustered, the least he could do was bite his tongue so as not to break into a fit of giggles, prevent himself from swinging his legs and twirling his short strands of hair like a lovesick middle schooler. All because of you. “Just, um, just to be clear before I look like an absolute fool, not that I don't look like an absolute fool on a daily basis, but this is a confession, right?” 
You raised your head up in confusion, tilting your head and furrowing your brows. Had you not been so baffled by his self-explanatory question you would’ve fawned over this version of him, giddy and soft and in love with you because just by looking at his eyes you could tell he was looking at you like you hung the moon up in the sky—it was easy to decipher; after staring at him the exact same way countless times, you were bound to familiarise yourself with such display of devotion. And had he not looked this adorable, you would’ve teased him for being so painfully and hopelessly dense, but you didn’t have it in you to do so, only managing to nod in response.
“So you like like me?” He continued, waiting for your reassurance, either a nod or a smile, or any signal that he was right. “So you are in love with me?”
“I mean, I wouldn't say I'm in love but if that's what makes you sleep at night.” The more you stared at his face, the dimples on his cheeks, the creasing of his eyes at your words and the giggle he couldn’t help but contain, the wider the smile creeping at his lips became.
“Will you say it then?” He prodded, moving closer to you, now unable to hide the twinge of pink that grew what seemed like a thousand shades per second.
“I don’t know,” your legs innocently dangled from the side of the bed, trying to win back control of the situation by cutting down on your proximity, and sitting up properly from your half-lying position, “will I?”
“Please?” he begged, cupping one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulling you closer until you could feel each other's breaths. His skin was warm against yours, the roughness of his palm from working non-stop at the shop offset by the tenderness he carried around for you. 
And though you wanted to drag this on, enjoying the back and forth, you were so whipped for this man that you couldn’t stop your nonchalant act from crumbling as soon as you heard him once again let out a shy giggle after he nudged your nose with his.
“I love you.” 
Voice dreamy and saccharine sweet, like confessing to your lifelong desire, you whispered, and just before your lips touched, through lidded eyes and uneven breath he whispered back ‘and I love you’. 
After his own confession, you were unable to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. All your senses were muted as his soft lips gilded against yours. The taste of the honey chapstick you applied almost compulsively melted against his tongue, and he wondered if like him, you could still faintly taste the strawberry chapstick you had gifted him a while ago; the same one he hadn’t stopped using since, going as far as asking the hospital staff to retrieve it from the pockets of the jeans he was wearing the day of the accident for him.
He bit back a whimper when he felt you bite down gently on his bottom lip, unable to ignore the way you smirk against the kiss once your hand makes its way up to the side of his neck to rest on his pulse point, in the perfect position to feel his heart doing somersaults underneath your touch. It made him want to melt right against you; the more you wandered down his body, the bigger the urge to hold you grew.
His calloused yet delicate fingers traced your skin, running from the apples of your cheeks down to your chin, coaxing you to fully give into him as he traced the tip of his tongue against your lips. He could feel himself grow hard once you gave him permission to enter, basking on the hidden whine you let out at the feeling of the warm muscle enveloping your whole body, drool pooling at the corner of both your lips.
Away from your face, he trails his hands slowly down your torso confidently ghosting the skin before the facade is broken the moment he almost freezes up once he gets to your chest. The blush on his cheeks deepened as you took notice of his apparent nervousness, laughing it off before he continued his path down to your hips, 
He was sure he was ready to die right here in your arms the moment you softly suck on his tongue, his eyes almost rolling towards the back of his skull as you hands grazed his clothed dick. The teasing touch made him groan, the vibrations against your lips feeding the urge to get closer to him. And almost like he had read your mind, you shivered at the tight grip of his hips guiding you over lap until you were resting flush against him.
“‘Want you so bad.” He panted in between giggles, nudging your noses together and pecking your lips over and over again. You barely managed to catch your breath between his kisses; when he leaned away you pulled him in, and when you did so he tried to follow the path of your lips until they were once again interlocked with his. The two of you ignored the satisfying burn of your lungs like the feeling of your bodies close against each other was good enough of a replacement for oxygen itself. “–Waited so long for this.”
He pulled you down a little harder against him, bucking his hips against your. Mewling into the kiss, you wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, perhaps taking too much enjoyment in the minimal friction against your core. The sensation of him rutting desperately against you forced you to meet his attempts for more with an equal amount of want.
“You feel so good.” you cooed, whimpering as he sucked at the skin behind your ear. “Shin, Fuck, you’re so good at this.”
Before he could stop himself, he was groaning at the praise, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck and refusing to come back up to meet your lips to hide the raging blush tinting his skin, spreading from his cheeks up to his ears.
“You like that? Like it when I say you're doing a good job?”
He hummed, though it sounded more like a whimper, and waited no time to pull your face back against his, connecting your lips again in a messy kiss, to, presumably, stop you from teasing him. He took the opportunity to indulge himself, once again tracing the outline of your lower lip with his tongue and nipping at the supple skin in retaliation.
In spite of your own reluctance, you broke the kiss first, finding the way he tried to chase your lips with his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, indescribably cute. You took a minute to fully take in this version of him, his breath uneven and with a thin sheen of sweat making some of his black locks stick to his forehead. His lips were puffy, glistening with saliva as they part involuntarily in an enrapturing appetite. 
He looked so pretty like this, you didn’t think you’d have it in you to control yourself. 
Once you had lowered the sheets covering his legs, one of your thumbs proceeded to draw circular patterns on his exposed thigh, chuckling at the way he flinched before relaxing against you. Gently ghosting your fingernails over his skin, you hiked up his hospital gown until you had full access to the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic but doing nothing aside from that.
“You want to do this here?” He pulled back, eyes wide and dazed with need yet frazzled at your sudden boldness, as if nearly dry humping in a hospital wasn’t bold enough. His hands played with the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine every time his fingers grazed your skin. He looked like a deer caught in headlines, a way cuter version of Bambi, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose against his cheek before kissing him gently, once, twice, thrice.
“Only if you want to.” 
“I do,” he swallowed, clearing his throat to keep himself lucid as he felt the tips of your fingers breaching the hem of his underwear, cold against the warmth of the covered skin. “Fuck, I really do, I need you s’bad I–”
“You fucking disgust me.” 
Like a pair of surprised kittens, the sudden interruption had the two of you jumping away from each other, almost falling off the bed while desperately trying to pull the sheets back into place. In turn Shinichiro tried helping you regain your balance, grabbing your arm before you crashed against the floor, nearly pulling down one of the hospital monitors in the process. 
“Don't you know how to knock?” You bit back, taking his comment more personally that you should’ve. 
“Didn’t think it’d be necessary.” Wakasa crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his cheek to the other. Standing beside, Benkei held a teddy bear and a lavender flower arrangement, mixed along with baby’s breaths and eucalyptus. If anyone had to guess, the bewildered expression he sported only meant he’d rather have his friend die than see whatever blasphemous activities you were performing. But then again, he probably expected to see his friend bedridden and weak instead of the free front row tickets to your ‘dry humping a post-concussed Shinichiro’ expectale. “‘Thought the worst thing we’d come across was him sleeping.”
“Why did you think coming across me sleeping d’be the worst case scenario!?” Shinichiro butted in lightheartedly, though you wouldn’t rule out the possibility of him actually being serious. “Are you saying I look ugly when I sleep?”
“No, you dumbass,” Wakasa deadpanned; even with his usual unbothered facade you could tell he was grateful for the ordinary banter, questioning his stupidity with a hidden smile. “How’re we gonna talk to you if you’re asleep.”
“Wait, what happened? I didn't see,” Takeomi joined in, panting as he held a couple of balloons that had ‘it's a boy!’ written all over them. “These two assholes left me while I was getting something to eat.”
The two of you groaned at the sound of his voice, pressing the heels of your hands against while Shinichiro hid his eyes behind his forearm. Even if you wanted to be lowkey about the whole situation, sweep it under the rug to avoid facing the embarrassment over again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone, not even Takeomi, and he wasn’t the brightest. 
Shinichiro’s hair was a tousled mess and his skin was dusted pink. Both of your lips were puffy, glistening under the fluorescent lights, and your breathing was uneven still. No matter how much the two of you tried to regulate it back to normal, it seemed to follow the rapid rhythm of each other’s heart beat.
“Nothing happened.” You grumbled, willing to attempt a lousy cover up in spite of your friend’s, including Shinichiro, giggling. Once he found out, it would be impossible for him to let it go. But even so, it took a lot of effort not to join in your friends’ laughter; it was funny to fuck with him—not literally—his puzzled frown as he borderline begged for someone to let him only feeding in your teasing. Still, once he found out. “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, talking about fuck–”
“Wakasa!” “Dude!” 
The two of you exclaimed as the blond tilted his head to the side, making his earring jingle. A teasing smile stretched on his lips as the four of you waited for Takeomi to process what was just mentioned. Knowing the speed in which the neurons within his brain transported information, it’d take a little while.
To everyone’s surprise, it only took him a couple of seconds to do so. You could visibly see it in his expression, morphing into one of amazement the minute realisation hit him straight in the face
“Did’ya– No way, you finally fucked?” And though his lack of decorum made the two men beside him laugh louder and the two of you groan as if to muffle his voice, he paid your reaction no mind other than using it as an affirmative response to his question. “No way, congrats dude! Who would’ve thought you needed to almost die just to lose your virginity.”
“I hate you so much.” Shinichiro playfully complained, a stupid grin threatening to make its way onto his lips disproving his claim. Seeing his four best friends standing around him right after waking up from what could’ve been a tragic accident made him feel all sorts of things he found himself unable to explain. It almost made him want to cry once again—happy tears this time.
“Anyway, now that you’ve got someone to stay with,” you changed the topic, interrupting yourself to fix the stray hairs sitting on top of Shinichiro’s head before caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I’ll go check whatever Keisuke’s doing, I‘ll be back in a sec.”
“Wait no, don’t go…” You had to resist the urge to give him another quick peck at the way he dragged out the ‘go’, and instead, grabbed your phone from his bedside table to respond to the missed messages coming from your mom. “Don’t leave me with these people.”
“Very funny Shitty-chiro.” Takeomi fake laughed, letting himself fall on one of the chairs nearby, stretching his arms before fully slumping against the backrest and looking at you. “But’s fine, I left Haruchiyo in charge, Senju’s with them as well.”
“Well that doesn't make things any better, does it.” At your snapping voice, he raised his hands up in surrender, as if the idea of letting a 13 year-old in charge of two 12 year-olds didn't have multiple flaws. Doing a 180° turn, you turned towards Shinichiro, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be quick, promise.”
“Wait, before you go,” Wakasa interrupted, stopping you from slinging your bag over your shoulder. He took the bright red candy out of his mouth with a pop, using it as a little wand to emphasise his speech, before he continued. “Who confessed first?”
“Yeah!” Takeomi sat at the end of his seat, gaze switching from Shinichiro to you and vice versa. “How did Shinichiro confess to ya’?”
Again, faster than the usual processing speed of his cognitive skills, he managed to string the hints together, gasping at the silence that settled between the two of you as you tried to silently decide who should say what. Shinichiro opened his mouth like a fish, as if trying to come up with something to appease his friend’s reaction before giving up and averting his eyes, pointing at you with his thumb.
Wakasa’s smirk only grew the more Takeomi seemed to sink back into the chair in dejection. “‘gotta pay up Omi-omi.”
The ruffling of bills and the complaints birthed out of the apparent loser’s mouth distracted you momentarily. You were about to laugh at the scene in front of you, two of them waiting with their hands stretched out as Takeomi reluctantly placed the wrong amount in his palm, grunting when Wakasa noticed it wasn’t the amount they had agreed on, before it clicked in your head.
“Pay up,” you mumbled to yourself, “Pay up, pay up? Wait, did you three bet on us?”
“Kinda,” Benkei sent you a reassuring smile, counting the hundred yen bills that were handed to him once again; when it came to money matters, Takeomi wasn’t someone you could trust. “We bet on who’d confess first.”
“And you didn’t bet on me?!” Shinchiro exclaimed, a little louder than he intended.
“Sorry man, ‘didn't have faith in you,” Wakasa folded the five crinkled bills in half before stashing them in his back pocket. “After your failed attempt I kinda accepted you weren’t going to win, Benkei was always betting against you, though.”
“But ‘ya admit it!” Takeomi jumped from his seat, waving his now empty wallet in the air like he was fencing with the worn out leather rectangle. “He did confess first!”
“Hell no, it only counts if it was a successful confession.”
“So the bet wouldn’t count if one of them got rejected? What's the point then!”
Wakasa groaned, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, “It only counts if the two of them understand whatever was done was a confession.”
“But the lighter was him confessing!”
“Takeomi, that was the vaguest confession to ever be seen by the entirety of mankind.”
“What confession are you talking about…?” You interrupted the animated discourse with a question. In spite of enjoying the banter between your friends, you remained in the dark. Shinichiro had never confessed to you, or even remotely tried to do so. You were a hundred percent certain, after all, had he done so you were sure you’d be dating by now. 
“The lighter you always carry around,” Takeomi responded, “the fish one.”
Instinctively, you patted the pocket where your zippo lighter sat, carefully trailing your thumb lightly over the red imprints as you pulled it out. It looked almost exactly the same way as it did during the summer festival. The only difference, aside from the way the metal reflected the cold hospital lights instead of fireworks and paper lanterns, were the couple of dents on the metal and the previously well-defined engraving softening over the years.
“S‘not just a fish,” Shinichiro chuckled, letting himself fall back on the bed while hiding his flustered state behind a seemingly lame explanation. At this rate, he was sure his skin could be permanently stained a pinkish-red. “It's a red koi fish.”
“Wait,” you snapped your head from the lighter to him, letting your mouth fall open in surprise, “you, you meant that?”
“What do you…mean?” Shinichiro poked, voice twisting and forcing the ‘mean’ to come out strained. Watching your shoulders tense up and, somehow, simultaneously relaxed made him wary of the whole situation, like the universe itself was playing a prank on him. And though unlikely, he wasn't ruling out the possibility of random cameras popping up from behind the door or through the window or maybe from underneath his bed with a huge poster reading ‘you’ve been pranked!’.
He had given you that lighter seven years ago, the engravings were probably faded by now, there was no way…
“Red koi fish mean romantic love, don’t they?” 
It took him a couple of seconds to properly run your words through his brain, before his eyes widened in amusement mixed with the mild disappointment his seventeen year-old-self had forced himself to ignore after his confession had gone wrong. “You knew!?” 
“Uh…yeah? We learned that in literature class.” You shrugged with a sheepish smile in an attempt to tame down the laughter that had started bubbling in your throat at his mortified reaction. He groaned at your response, throwing one of his arms over his eyes, the sound mixing with a cry as the movement pulled on the IV digging into his arm.
He licked his lips a couple of times and rubbed the skin above the needle in an attempt to soothe the ache. Stalling, he was trying to buy time before he asked anything that could potentially hurt him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Aside from flustered and pouty, slightly amused at his own failed attempt, he appeared to be a little sullen, perhaps even sad. It was obvious to you, though you didn’t know why; maybe he was blaming himself for losing the opportunity to get in a relationship with you way earlier. Or, maybe he blamed himself for putting any sort of pressure on you; back then, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how you felt about him, so maybe you had purposely ignored his advances because you didn't want him. But that couldn’t be it, could it? Less than a couple of minutes ago the two of you were confessing your love for each other, so if that were to be the case, when did your feelings for him start to change? “Did, uh, did you not like me back then?”
Looking at his hopeful yet gloomy expectant features, he appeared so small and vulnerable in front of you, you wanted to give him a hug. The question had visibly caught you off-guard, your brows furrowing as soon as he was done talking. Who would’ve thought that a seemingly innocuous event from your past would come back transformed into an apparent irrational insecurity. It prompted yet another silence upon the two of you. And though it felt eternal, it lasted only a couple of milliseconds, interrupted by both your annoyance and Takeomi munching on the chips he bought at an inflated price on one of the hospital’s vending machines. 
“Do you mind?” You turned towards the obnoxious mistake you had chosen as a friend, snickering as he shrugged in questionable indifference, mumbling a muffled ‘go on’ before motioning you two to continue with a shake of his hand. But at the lack of positive feedback from anyone in the room he stopped himself to explain.
“What? It’s like watching a live romcom,” he shoved more chips into his mouth, “The ones we watch every friday, ‘ya know what I mean?”
“Okay,” Benkei clapped both his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention before he pulled Takeomi into a standing position and pushed both him and an amused Wakasa towards the door. “Seems like all of us are hungry, we’re heading to the cafeteria real quick, we’ll send Baji back up when we’re done, sounds good?”
“Sounds good, thanks, Benkei.” You smiled at him, watching the three of them leave and sighing in satisfaction when you saw the way the gentle-giant punched Takeomi’s arm once they were far enough for his complaints to appear silent. “But to answer your question,” you turned towards Shinichiro once again, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting your hand on top of his. You could see the way he visibly relaxed against your touch, the warmth of your skin coaxing his insecurities away little by little. “I did like you very much back then, too much for it to be considered healthy, I'm pretty sure…”
“Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“Well, I, you know,” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling the embarrassment for your younger self was all over you. Why didn’t you say anything? Well, in hindsight, you didn’t think Shinchiro had it in him to use a literary reference as a means of confession. Not because he was stupid, that was Takeomi's role, but because it was very un-Shinichiro. You had been witness to the countless failed confession attempts and nothing included anything as subtle and detailed as the lighter he had gifted you. Back then, he professed his brimming infatuation with an honest smile, the well-rehearsed question ‘would you go out with me?’ and absolutely nothing else. And though the ‘courting’ period included him acting all whipped and soft, he was usually very blunt when it came to asking people out, gentle but direct. 
Although, thinking about it a little bit more in depth, he had always been very romantic, sometimes cringy with the shitty pick up lines, but during movie nights he had always chosen movies with clear romantic subplots, and you can recall that one romance poetry book he kept borrowing from the library, unable to finish it before returning it—at least that’s what you thought, by the amount of times he had taken it home.
When you were both in middle school and high school, he would watch couples holding hands with a gentle smile, sometimes going as far as spacing out and letting a dreamy sigh fall from his lips—he always brushed off the person asking the reason behind his sighing, but you were paying attention to him more often than not, so of course you knew—and of course, you couldn’t forget the many times he had shared hypothetical scenarios with the four of you, most of them consisting of him fantasising out loud the sort of dates he’d like to have with his hypothetical s/o or what he would do for them before being relentlessly teased by all of you.
So, in retrospect, him trying to confess through a pretty much evident symbol extracted from one of your favourite books was a very un-Shinichiro, Shinichiro thing to do, if that made any sense. 
“I think…I might’ve gaslit myself into believing it was a coincidence, didn't wanna get my hopes up.”
“I thought, I– I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked you.” He chuckled, scooting to the side in order to make more space for you to lay, next to him, the same you had done most of the days you had spent here. “Everybody knew I did.”
“Wait, really? I thought you were being friendly!” You let out a laugh, watching him soften up even more at your obliviousness and simultaneously hold back laughter of his own. “Don’t laugh at me! You were flirtier with Wakasa than with me!”
“You can’t blame me!” He finally laughed along with you, interlocking your fingers together and pulling you close until you were squished next to him, and waited for you to get comfortable before continuing his spiel. “Waka’s my best friend, we’ve always been like that, and you know it.” He nuzzled his cheek against your head, muttering the words in the quietest way possible, like he didn’t want to be heard by anyone but you. “Plus I couldn't flirt with you, I'd blush and cry afterwards.”
“Yeah, I’d’ve cried if you flirted with me as well.”
“Hey!”
“I mean it in a good way! Happy tears or whatever.” You sighed with a giddy grin, caressing his cheeks with the back of your hand before smushing them together, forcing a pout and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll forever be in love with you.”
Tumblr media
© 2023 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work. affiliated with @tokyometronetwork
951 notes · View notes
armeenix · 9 months
Text
Aot characters when they see you at a party
Fluff!<3 slightly suggestive possibly !Fem! Reader
-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-
CONNIE
•connie was eating snacks in the kitchen with jean and Sasha
•you and onyankopan walked into the kitchen so that he could introduce you to everyone and let me say when connie first layed eyes on you he almost dropped his food💀
•he couldn't help but look you up and down. You looked so fine in your outfit
•from the moment you sat down he tried his best to sound cool so he could impress you. He even went as far as trying to impress you with his Spanish but somehow he forgot how to say some things (his momma would not be proud 💀)
•eventually you and oyankopan got up so you could go meet the others. After you left Jean and Sasha would not stop making fun of connie
•he was so embarrased😭
•at the end of the night he went home disappointed at the fact that he didn't get your number but then his phone buzzed with a text that said, "hey this is the girl from the party I got your number from sasha✌️😗"
•this man almost squealed like a little girl when he saw that it was you that texted him lol
-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-♡-♤-
ARMIN
•Armin was carpooling with eren and mikasa when they made a quick stop to pick you up
•when he saw you walk out your door his face immediately began turning a shade of red.
•when you got in the car and looked at armjn you noticed how red he was and asked him if he was sick or something💀 (he face reddened even more when you talked to him)
•"uh-uhm yea I'm good" he tried to make his voice deeper so he would sound more attractive (eren and mikasa noticed the change in pitch and tried their hardest not to laugh💀)
•the entire car ride he avoided looking or talking to you (he was so nervous😭)
•the entire night at the party he avoided you as best as he could, this man went to extreme lengths just to avoid you so he wouldn't embarras himself💀
•at one point you, eren, and mikasa walked over to check on him but he quickly stood up and claimed that connie needed his help in the kitchen
•imma be so honest, armin tripped like five times around you💀
•at the end of the night eren and mikasa claimed that they were gonna help clean the house so they were staying back, so that meant that armin had to drive you home
•he was a nervous wreck😭 he was tripping over his words, stuttering, his hands were shaking too💀
•when you arrived at your place you got out and quickly walked to his window. He rolled it down and look at you curiously. You leaned down and kissed his cheek before thanking him for driving you home and heading inside
•when you walked in the house he giggled like a child and ran his fingers through his hair
•that was his first time getting a kiss from a girl
♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
ONYANKOPAN
•he was not messing around
•from the moment he saw you walk in he was already walking towards you to go introduce himself
•he was not wasting any time💀
Y: can I ask your a question?
O: yea wassup?
Y: why did you come and talk to me so fast?
O: because you look amazing tonight and I wanted to make sure I talked to you before any of the others could
•you end up spending the whole night with him even after the party💀
♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
YMIR + HISTORIA
•ay listen if they both want you they both want you🤷‍♀️
•ymir and historia where sitting down on the couch when historia noticed you walk in
•immediately she brought ymirs attention to you
•Sasha, annie, and mikasa all walked over to the couch and introduced you to ymir and historia who were very excited to meet you
S: hey guys this is y/n! We're just kinda introducing her to everybody so she can get comfortable. Y/n this is ymir and historia
Y: uh, hey wassup
H: hi!
Ymir: hey
•you were lowkey nervous with how they were staring at you but in the end you ended up sitting on the couch and talking with them for most of the party
♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
HANGE
•neither you or hange remember how it happened but one minute you were being introduced to eachother and the next yall were upstairs, in a room, with barely any clothes on💀
•I don't even know what to say about hange bro like everything happened so fast that you don't even remember walking up the stairs and into a room with hange
•now does that stop what is occurring in that moment between the two of you?
•yeah no. Absolutely not, it's a confident no from me💀
♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
266 notes · View notes
eschergirls · 23 days
Text
Tumblr media
March 2024 Escher Girls Update and Patreon Thank You!
Hi everybody!
It's a new month, so it's time for a site update and to thank our awesome Patreon subscribers!
First, I've restored more posts that were broken in the move from Tumblr due to being animated gifs or posts/users being deleted/leaving Tumblr before the export, etc... I also reformat all the posts to be easier to read and add image descriptions to all the images.  This month, one of the posts I restored was this great breakdown and redraw by LessTitsNAss of the Superman vol. 3 #9 cover featuring Anguish/Masochist punching Superman while in a boobs and butt pose.  At the time the preview of the cover came out, the character was named Masochist, but I believe she was renamed to Anguish when the comic was actually published, hence why some of the posts still refer to her as Masochist.  I put a combined image of the redraw and breakdown as the image for this post, but if you want to see larger versions of each part, go check out the post!
And I'm continuing to work my way through the Tumblr inbox backlog so old submissions might be showing up.  Due to the way Tumblr piles up everything in descending order of newest first, a lot of the older stuff got buried since I get a lot of submissions, and it takes a while for me to get to it.  I'm really sorry if it's taken this long for your submission to show up. 
I've also been continuing to appeal mistakenly flagged posts by Tumblr's algorithm which can't tell the difference between stuff like a solid coloured body suit and actual nudity (it flagged Johnny Storm as being naked, for instance because he was on fire).  The algorithmic flagging, sudden rule changes, and other controversies, are the reason I host Escher Girls independently as well as cross-posting on Tumblr because then there's an archive of the posts that aren't affected by posts being flagged or removed on Tumblr or if Tumblr goes down or something.
And it's also why I really appreciate everybody who supposed us on Patreon and Ko-Fi. <3  It helps me pay for server costs, upgrades, domain hosting, and other things that help to keep the site going. :)
So I want to thank everybody who supported Escher Girls on Patreon in February!
Thank you so so much to:
Anne Adler Cat Mara CheerfulOptimistic  Chris McKenzie Em Bardon First Time Trek Greg Sepelak Ian Cameron Ken Trosaurus Kevin Carson Kim Wincen Kristoffer Illern  Holmén Leak  Manuel Dalton Mary Kuhner Max Schwarz Michael Mazur Miriam Pody Morgan McEvoy randomisedmongoose Rebecca Breu Ringoko  Ryan Gerber Sam Mikes Sean Sea SpecialRandomCast  Thomas 
And a special thank you to PJ Evans for donating on Ko-Fi!!!  I really appreciate it. :)
Also a huge thank you to everybody for reading, submitting, and generally commenting and engaging with Escher Girls!  It makes running the site so worth it. :)
For those who want to follow us without using Tumblr, we have an RSS feed. (For newbies, RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication and is basically a feed you can read using an RSS reader. Simply copy and paste https://eschergirls.com/rss.xml into an RSS reader and it will keep you up to date on Escher Girls!)
Thank you all so much,
Ami
If you have any issues with the site or suggestions to improve it, please do not hesitate to contact me and let me know!
If you wish to support Escher Girls, you can subscribe to our Patreon at: https://www.patreon.com/ami_angelwings or donate through Ko-Fi at: https://ko-fi.com/amiangelwings.
72 notes · View notes
wordbunch · 9 months
Text
Their love song (Taylor Swift edition) > The Hobbit characters
a/n: welcome to my little self-indulgent celebration of 700 followers! 🥳 EVEN IF you're not a fan/don't know the songs, I hope you can still like and support this fic - a lot of time and love went into it! and by all means come talk to me about it or suggest your own songs! love you all so much and thank you for reading my stories and being a WONDERFUL community 💕💕💕 i've never written for many of these characters so i'm excited!
BILBO ♡ sweet nothing
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Undoubtedly, the world can be really difficult and overwhelming at times, and it is then that the two of you find comfort and safety with each other. You don't even need to be doing anything special, it's enough to just be existing together and enjoying the simple pleasures of life in your own little world, it is the love that feels like home.
BARD ♡ mary's song (oh my my my)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Most certainly a family man who loves his town and his people, and he deserves this lovely underrated song. He would always choose to pursue a committed, lifelong relationship, have a family with you and be a part of the community. Eventually it would be so nice to reflect on decades of love and support, still by each other's side and still in love.
THORIN ♡ gold rush
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pun mildly intended This dwarf can be a little intimidating, despite his height, and he is a very captivating presence, who can also be a little arrogant at times. You weren't sure how you felt about him at first, but after getting to know each other, you realized there was a heart of gold hiding in his chest, just waiting for someone to unlock it and be fiercely loved by him.
FÍLI ♡ invisible string
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He is a romantic soul who believes in destiny, and finding the love of his life who is meant just for him. He is thankful for all the things in both of your lives that brought you together, even if they seemed bad at the time - but they resulted in a beautiful love story in the end, and he will be devoted to you forever.
KÍLI ♡ paper rings
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Although he is a bit more playful and fervent, he is the person who falls absolutely head over heels, and nobody saw it coming at all, which makes it an even sweeter story to tell. He doesn't care about any circumstances, he just cares about being close to you, no matter when, where or how.
TAURIEL ♡ mastermind
Tumblr media Tumblr media
She thought she was being very smooth when you caught her eye, and she was convinced that you couldn't tell that she was absolutely melting inside whenever you were near, but to her absolute astonishment, you noticed fairly quickly. Still, you let her play her little game and "win" you over, though you had been won for longer than she was aware.
THRANDUIL ♡ don't blame me
Tumblr media Tumblr media
His love is intense, passionate and even a little bit possessive, but he disregards everybody's comments and opinions on it. Why should he care? It only matters that he found the perfect person who loves him with all his flaws and virtues, and he likes to make it known that he would do basically anything for them.
✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000
@friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr​​​​​​ @noldorinpainter​​​​​​ @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste
@ironmandeficiency    @starryeyedrogue ​​ @dinofromspac3  @wisheduponastar​ @lady-of-imladris​ @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @sweetpea-thoughts
JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE
227 notes · View notes
writersundersiege · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
New Girl in Town Part 3
Rafe Cameron x F! Reader
a/n: Hello, everybody, so this is my first time making an authors' note. I want to place one on this one since I’m new to posting, and also, this chapter took me two days to write, considering I did try to go in and add more depth to my characters. I want my reader (aka you) to have a broader sense of the world. As you can tell, she knows a lot about stuff most people don’t learn, has been to places many of us haven’t had the opportunity to visit and has experienced things I can only hope as a writer is not something you have experienced. But for the margin of you who have experienced any of these warnings below, If you need any resources, please reach out. I will work on putting resources on my account later on or anyone to talk to; my messages are always open to you all as readers of my work. Feel free to ask me questions, give me criticism, or suggest things to the story. I want to continue this for as long as you enjoy it. Thank you for supporting my work, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter
————————————————————————
To read any other parts of this series, click here:
The New Girl In Town - Masterlist
Summary: Rafe accepts the request from your father to fill your place at the clothes drive. When he gets there, he bumps into an unlikely but friendly face, your brother Jason. During the setup for the event, Rafe gets the chance to talk to your brother and find out more about you. What if he finds out your story goes deeper than he thought? Also, what will he do when he discovers more information about your friend who mysteriously pops into town
Warning: Grief of losing family and loved ones, fears of self-harm, peer pressure, allowing someone to binge drink, mentions of potential assault, swearing, self-doubt
As Rafe pulls up to the front of the country club, he parks and throws his bike helmet off immediately. He hurriedly starts walking, hand ghosting over his pockets, double checking for his wallet, keys, and phone and that they’re all still with him. As Rafe walks to the front, his palms are getting sweaty. Rafe never gets nervous. Usually, he’s the one controlling the situation, but with you, your family, it is so different it’s like you will slip out of his fingers the moment you make contact, like handfuls of sand slipping through every time you pick it up.
Rafe stops looking into the country club one last time, taking a deep breath. Rafe has never felt as though he deserves good things. Ward has always rewarded Sarah; the town continuously believes he’s either causing trouble or breaking someone’s daughter's heart; he’s aggressive, psychotic, and a loose cannon when it comes to you, you’re like a ghost to him; no matter where he goes, the image of you haunts him. He wants one thing to go well, one thing to go his way this time, and that’s the things with you.
Straighten up, he clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair as he begins the walk back into the country club; his phone pings with a message. He quickly pulls out his phone while still making his way inside
Unknown number: Thank you so much again, Rafe! I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I owe you one! 🫡💕
Rafe: you can always count on me, angel, always. Also, I’ll never turn down a good favor 😉
He watches as three bubbles appear like you’re about to answer when he runs smack into someone, sending him flying back and stumbling a bit; this has Rafe looking up, starting to say, “Watch where—“ and he cuts himself off because standing in front of him smiling from ear to ear is Jason holding a box of clothes while some still laid on the ground from the collision.
“Rafe, right? he says, smiling with a chuckle. “Seems like I can’t escape you, man if I’m hearing about you or seeing you, I'm nearly trying to knock you on your ass,” he leans down, picking up a shirt from the ground. “Are you here to help with the clothes drive?” Your brother turns to look at him, eyes big and bright like yours are but also kind in a way that makes Rafe want to spill his guts to the guy and tell him his life story; your brother has a soft smirk on his face, not one that is intimidating or meant to be mischievous but one that shows humility like he knows it’s not how Rafe would prefer to spend a random Thursday in June.
They were finally coming to full height, looking at each other. Jason looked to Rafe like an old friend waiting for him to tell them all the things they’d missed in the years past. Smile lines prominently shown on his cheeks, and his eyes creased on the corner just like your whole family has; it made Rafe wonder how often you all smiled to have such prominent and similar facial marks that show happiness and this aura that looks like the dude is being basked in the sun in the middle of a June evening in Kilandre.
Rafe, who at this point has bent down to pick up the last shirt to return to the box, having tucked his phone in his pocket, long forgotten is your response left unread and unanswered.
Rafe decides it’s now or never; he has to play some moves right for a bit, with no snarky attitude or outbursts; he must get this right with your family and you. Show them just how much of a lovely gentleman he can be.
Smiling back and placing the shirt in the box, he looks up to meet your brother's eye, channeling the irritation and pent-up anger from earlier into charm and charisma; both aren’t so far from each other; all depends on lines and delivery.
“ I am here to help. I was not expecting it, but I’m happy to be here. Also, don’t worry about bumping into me. I should have watched where I was going.” Smiling and shaking his head, he motioned with his head inside. “Well, get in there, man. Moms about to give out-groups.” walking down the steps and to your blue Jeep of all things, he turns back to Rafe, calling out, “Also, you’ll have to try and nab us a spot with some of the girls, few in there are our age and they are pretty girls,” you brother says with an awarding smile on his face and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, spinning on heels jogging over to the back of your Jeep.
Rafe shakes his head, looking down, knowing there isn’t a single girl in the whole country club, hell, on the entire island, perhaps even this planet that compares to you. All the more, he’ll help your brother out. What better way to get close than becoming your brother's best friend? A smirk evolves on his face now that right there is a plan and a good one.
Rafe walks through the entrance down the hall to the ballroom area where they usually hold parties and events; there are tons of different Kooks from Figure 8 here to help; he sees a few of the women Rose gossips with after pilates on Wednesdays, a few of the single kook dads who you can tell their sole purpose of helping was your mother who they are ogling, as well as a few of the islands Kook kids Sarah and Topper stand near Ally and Kayla two girls they all went to school with and a boy who he can’t see with his back to Rafe.
Scanning the room more, Kiara is sitting crisscross on the ground, folding baby clothes and watching as your mom describes the night Kiara’s parents are seated at a table behind your mom, quietly talking and writing on papers. Suddenly, Rafes broke from his search of the crowd as your mom's voice rang in his ears, making a beeline for him. “Rafe, you came?” she said this with so much joy, not like she expected him to fail or disappoint her; then, before he knew it, she was wrapping her arms around Rafe's large frame, his arms limp at his sides, patting her back where he could reach but smiling and laying his head on your moms saying “Of course, I’m here Andy, where do you need me I’m ready to help however I can.”
Your mom pulls back, showing her glittering smile, stilling, holding Rafe by the shoulders and gently reaching up to pat his cheek. “You are a good boy, Rafe.” she moves her hand, turning him to look at the crowd. “your sister, I believe she is here. You can stand with her. I’ll put you in a good group, don’t you worry,” she gives Rafe a wink and chuckles, walking off back to the table where Kiara’s parents sit and kneeling in front of the table, looking at the papers they were writing on.
Once again, he eyes the crowd, scoffing when he watches a few of the single dads congregating and staring at your mom's behind, kneeling until one the guy he believes to be Mr. Chusing, who owns a law firm here in Kilandre. he watches as Mr.Chusing kneels right next to your mom and put his hand on her lower back. Your mom stands immediately and politely puts her ring finger on her chest, prominently showing the man her ring. Rafe smiles, shaking his head, knowing your family is a good set of people.
Rafe looks around again at the group standing with his sister; Sarah and Topper are focused on a guy who looks his age; he notices the guy talking animatedly, which makes everyone laugh. Sarah was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. He walks toward the group when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to find your brother; he looks at him, and he shakes his head as if saying “No” and then shakes his head to the other side, where Kiara sits folding, and he follows him.
“Trust me, you do not even want to go over there, no matter how much fun they look like they are having; that kid is a rat,” Rafe frowns, looking over at the group again as he sits next to Jason, not too far from Kiara folding sock’s together.
He looks at the group, inspecting the boy; he is pretty tall around Rafe's height but not much muscle in his upper body, a thinner build, his hair is a sandy blonde color and curly, kind of like he just got a perm, he turns and sees the guys face he’s pretty tan with a set of perfect white teeth just like your family and even from here Rafe sits he sees the green of his eyes were like sea algae growing on his iris.
Rafe looks at your brother, who is already scowling in the boy's direction. “What did he do?” Jason harshly folds a pair of jeans, looking down on them, not meeting Rafe's eyes once. “He has no respect, loyalty, grace, love, compassion, empathy. I don’t know humanity,” shrugging his shoulders and slamming the pants in the box sitting next to him
Kiara looks up from the baby clothes she sits with, eyebrows arching at Jason. “You good?” she asks like she’s confused. Jason shakes his head, looking down at his hand, shaking and flexing his fingers a few times. Rafe and Kiara look at each other, and she stands to move closer and kneel by your brother. They look back down on the newly bright boy, who seems to be slowly withering in front of them.
“What’s up, bro?” Rafe reaches his hand over to your brother's shoulder with uncertainty; when he makes contact, Jason’s head drops down, hands coming to his face. “You know I was supposed to be with him- them. When they went out there, I was supposed to go with Luca and Cameron on that fishing trip, and I wasn’t because of a damn Stats test. I couldn’t break my honor roll; I couldn’t stop..” Jason’s words are muffled and broken off at the end because he’s looking down with his hands over his eyes, the energy to finally let go of what he’s been holding in dwindling before it’s even sparked.
Rafe knows immediately where this is going for them. He saw it on your face when he asked, and he’s seeing it all over again: a family that seems so picture perfect having a moment where it looks like the world shatters, but for just a moment, you’ll never let them see it too long, but why? Maybe it’s the same reason Rafe is known as the aggressor because of the sentiment he thinks of repeatedly when he’s alone; if people knew the truth, would they still like you? or would they hate it just as much as you do?
What broke Rafes thought was your brother looking up, eyes tinged pink with the welled tears created from the silence, and him looking at the boy across the room leaning into Sarah’s ear to whisper something that made Topper look like he was about to pop his lid. “I may hate myself every day for not being there with them. But I thank god every day for keeping me here and sending me home when Luca was pronounced dead every day to catch that sick son of a bitch over there” Rafe and Kiara both turn to look at Jason with a questioning look he can already feel anger bubbling within him knowing something happened.
“When my sister found out Luca was gone, she was a mess for weeks. Honestly, it would have been months if it weren’t for Luca’s best man, best mate since birth, Ethan; he spent every day with (F/N) and took her to the beach to be near Luca, the aquarium where they had their first date, it was great for months he was the only one who could get her to sleep and eat, but it all went downhill on the six month anniversary and a certain area that struck me as strange one not but basically there is this hiking trail in the neighborhood we lived in back in Malibu that goes up to the cliffs it’s gorgeous and super secluded it was only a place Luca knew and took (F/N)” Jason paused looking down grabbing more clothes to fold
“Cameron told me that that was Luca and (F/N)’s spot..” He trails off, not waiting to discuss this part, but it’s intentional for the story. On the other hand, Kiara gets it immediately, knowing this must be hard for him to talk about on a typical day, but more so for two boys; he called his family and is now gone. Rafe completely misses the hint and frowns at Kiara, giving her eyes like, ‘wtf.’ She looks at him and says, “Sorry for this, Jason, Rafe; it was the first place she was intimate with someone. Get it now.” Rafe's eyes go wide, and he feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, but the story can’t wait for him to recover
Jason looks up with the tiniest chuckle. “Don’t worry, dude, it took Cam a while to tell me, too. I played dumb. I didn’t want to know what it was my baby sister was up to in that way anyway; on the six-month anniversary of Luca and Cam's death (F/N), she was distraught; she still had hope he was coming home, but by nearly half a year without him, the light for her simmered out. Everyone was over at our house here and there all day, and nothing. None of her friends, our extended family, or even Luca’s mother could get her out to accept a plate. Eventually, we let her be; we didn’t want to overwhelm the hurt she felt already because none of us knew exactly what she felt.” he looked down, shaking his head. Rafe brings his hand back to his shoulder, squeezing it. At the same time, Kiara says, “ Jason, you don’t have to tell us if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable.” this makes the older boy in front of them shake his head more. “ no, I’ve kept this on my chest too long, and every time I bring it up, everybody else shuts it down cause he’s family in their eyes if he said nothing happened they believe him. I need somebody else to listen and hear me out.”
Kiara looks around to see if anyone has moved since the start of this conversation, and Rafe settles back, one eye on Jason, the other on this new kid he doesn’t like in his peripheral. Kiara turns to Jason, letting him know no one’s listening and he’s good, indicating they haven’t moved a muscle or a manicured nail yet. Jason clears his throat and says, “That night, by ten thirty, I had enough. I hadn’t seen my sister in over 24 hours at that point, and I was scared. They were special to me; I mean, Cameron was my best friend since I was born. I didn’t care if she wanted to scream at me or have me hold her and cry with her. I just wanted to see my sister was okay, so I snuck to her room and knocked slightly, opening the door to check on her, and when I opened the door, she was gone.” he looked down at his hand, ringing them together back and forth like a wet rag eventually he looks up like he saw a ghost in front of him “I’ve never been more scared in my life than running to her bed and feeling that her sheets were cold she hadn't been there for at least an hour.”
Kiara put her hands on his to stop him from rubbing his skin raw. “ immediately, I went to find my friends to see if there was anything; when I checked her location, she was at her spot, but what I couldn’t understand was why she would go someplace so desolate, so lonely by herself first I was screaming waking up my parents I thought she was doing something horrible until I thought a little deeper and the only person we didn’t see all day long who didn’t come to help the family as well as Ethan.”
At this point in the story, Rafe is already seething with anger thinking about you being taken somewhere so dangerous at such a late hour; Rafe turns to laughter looking at the boy, staring at the boy across the room with a vicious look, and Jason, scowling at the boy, for whom he feels so much anger as well. Kiara, in some act of comfort, holds Jason’s hand, rubbing her hand over his knuckles, trying to calm him down. Jason clears his throat once more. “When I got there, she was so drunk she couldn’t even tell me her name; she doesn’t remember that night. He swears up and down nothing happened, but it seems like ever since that day, he will not leave her alone. It’s like he believes what belonged to Luca now belongs to him, and I can’t take it; every time I see him, I want to kill him.”
Rafe turns for a moment to look at your brother's face for the first time since he met your family; he sees the slightest glimmer of darkness behind his eye, the same kind Rafe has; the same one so many people in this town warn others about with Rafe, and then just like the sun on a rainy day it’s there and gone before you believe you saw it. His eyes only showed the cloud of grief and hurt.
Rafe pats his back again and says, “You’re in the Outerbanks now, bro, and your sister is safe; the people out here, our people, we’ll have her back.” Kiara gives Rafe a look like you can’t be serious about telling this boy he can trust any kook; the only trustworthy people on this island were the pogues and, more specifically, her group of friends.
Like always, though, with rich boys, they band together, not even acknowledging the look on Kiara's face. Jason looks up and says, “Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate you hearing me out, and my sister was right about you, that’s for sure.” Rafe's eyes blow out, and his neck turns red as he shakes his head and says, “Your sister is something else.”
To further this thread of thoughts in Rafe's mind, he feels his phone ping twice and pulls it from his back pocket
(F/N)🌊💕: Angel huh? I like that one, and yes, Rafe, I now owe you A favor that means only one. Don’t think I’m out here doing favors for anyone!
sent at 6:15 pm
(F/N)🌊💕: We should hang out sometime, maybe catch some waves tomorrow??
sent at 7:00 pm
(F/N)🌊💕: I’m heading to bed; let me know :) Thank you again, and see you around Reef 🪸🐠
sent at 7:30
Scanning these messages, Rafe starts to type a response before he’s even finished reading but immediately deletes it, thinking it better to let you sleep since something made you sick. Turning to your brother and pondering just what did make you head out? He asks, “Hey, what ma—“ but before he could finish, your mom was calling groups
“Okay, everyone, we will split into groups to make distributions easy. Take a little of each kind of clothing, men to babies, with you. The spot I give you is where you will be sitting at a distribution table, which my wonderful daughter (F/N) and her friend Ethan helped set up.” Ethan smiled and waved around at the people who were looking for you “ (F/N) who is unfortunately very sick and has to raincheck on being here was the mind of this event, and she was overwhelmed and overjoyed of the community outreach here; it shouldn’t take us more than 45 minutes to get rid of these items and help some families in need.” Everyone starts to clap. Jason stands and lends a hand out to Kiara and helps her stand as Rafe stands and moves to make sure he has a good line of sight on the pretty boy with no manners.
Everything is muffled as he stands examining the boy who’s most likely 20 feet across the ballroom from him, trying to catch a slip of any kind and the fun demeanor he’s been portraying all evening. Still, he seems respectful and well-mannered. Rafe watches, knowing under the stone image of a nice guy is a monster clawing its way back out.
Rafe hearing his name is what diverts his attention. “Rafe, would you mind leading the last group?” he looks to your mother, smiling; he shakes his head, dying inside but smiling, saying, “Would be happy to Andy.” This being out, Rafe sees for the first time in the evening; the boys' eyes snap, and it is immediately like the pin pulled from a grenade getting ready to blow.
Rafe sees Ethan’s eye lock with his; you would think Rafe has lit his house on fire and spit in his face with the disgusting face he throws his way. Rafe stares back, the usual dark look in his eye, a smirk on his face, knowing now this kid knows the monster has met its match. Looking at Ethan but saying to your mother, “Where would you like us?”
Rafe is walking outside to your jeep with your brother in hot pursuit, with no emotions, as he carries boxes to be loaded in the back. His group comprises Jason, Kiara, Sarah, Topper, the girls, and the goon. They all agreed to take separate cars, Kayla and Ally with Kiara in her vehicle; Topper and Sarah were so kind as to offer to take Ethan, leaving Jason to drive Rafe in your jeep. As they loaded the back with their few boxes, Jason turned to Rafe with an almost incredulous look. “I know what I told you is a lot to believe—“ Rafe stops him by simply saying, “I see it; in his eyes, he’s done something, and he doesn’t like me 'cause she does.” They had an entire moment of understanding between the young men he had done something that night, and now they both knew, and they will know what happened eventually.
This has both boys rounding the car and hopping in. Jason turns on the car, but before turning off the country club driveway with his hand on the wheel, he turns to Rafe again. “Just don’t let him provoke you, bro; he can be complicated. I told you the kid likes to be a bit of—“ Rafe looks at him with literally no emotion on his face saying, “a bitch.”
Jason laughs, throwing his head back against the headrest for the first time since he greeted him; he sees brightness return to Jason’s face; he lays his head there a moment, laughter dying back slowly. He shakes his head, bringing it forward. “Ethan is a crude bastard, and he’s not afraid to say what he thinks even if it's stupid, but he also likes to pick a good fight.” This has Jason looking at Rafe dead in the eyes, more serious than he’s seen or heard anyone in your family this far.
He says, “Don’t let him provoke you.” Rafe frowns, but Jason looks at him like a kid whose parents picked him up during a fight at school, and they’re waiting for him to say what he knows and won’t. Rafe starts to get a little pissed. “What makes you think he’ll—“Jason eyes him again, turning to drive as Rafe sits back silently for a moment. “I won’t. I’m here for her, and she wouldn’t, so I won’t,” Jason chuckles. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, huh? Yeah, she has that effect.”
Jason smiles, looking forward to driving them to the Heywards Shop to set up a pickup for clothes. Rafe stares out the window, watching the yellow streetlights mix with the blue-green hue of the evening sky and looking out at the hint of the stars he can see shining in the night sky. He thinks of you and how fast his heart beats when you smile and how warm he feels when you are next to him. You make him feel and think so differently in a way that makes him want to explore and experience things as you do; he wants to see things from a positive and enthusiastic perspective.
Against his better judgment, he pulls his phone from his pocket and pulls up the contact he’s already saved for you and the messages you’ve already shared.
Rafe: I'd take any favors you’d give, and also, I’d love for you to tell me where, and I’ll be there; sweet dreams, angel. ❤️
All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.
Tumblr media
79 notes · View notes
blue-slxt · 9 months
Text
Truth or Dare
🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞
A/N: Okay so I've had this idea for a while, but I just had no idea how to really execute it. So huge thanks to the anon that suggested the truth or dare premise. I love you! I hope you guys enjoy this one. This is also my first time really writing Ao'nung where he's involved in the story so go easy on me lol. All characters are aged up.
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina!Reader x Lo'ak x Ao'nung
Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, Oral (F receiving), Train, Squirting, Intense Orgasms, Creampie, Alcohol, (kinda) Manipulation, I think that's it
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: A game of truth or dare takes a turn when Ao'nung confronts you about a rumor he heard.
When the Sully family first arrived on your shores, everybody was weary of them and their presence. While Jake was basically a living legend with his status as toruk makto, everybody knew that him being here meant that the sky people wouldn’t be far behind. Nevertheless, Tonowari granted them uturu. Ao’nung and Tsireya were in charge of teaching the kids everything they needed to know to live here and you would tag along since Tsireya was your best friend.
The early days were rocky to put it lightly. The Sully boys and Ao’nung had a hard time getting along, which was entirely Ao’nung’s fault with his constant and unprompted teasing. You hated that part of him.
Even though Tsireya was like a sister to you, your feelings for Ao’nung were…more complicated. You had a crush on him for years, but you couldn’t deny that he had some irritating qualities about him. Usually, he only acted like that when he was with his friends. It was like he felt the need to show off for them. It was exhausting. And right around that time was when you started to actually take notice of the Sully brothers. They were so different from everything that you had grown up with. Their skin was a darker shade of blue, their frames were much more slim to help them maneuver through the forest more efficiently, thin tails, amber eyes, completely braided hair instead of any loose curls, and no tattoos to be seen.
Your curiosity had been piqued already by just their physical appearance. But as you got to know them, your interest grew. Neteyam was charming and traditional. He took training very seriously and you would often try to get him to loosen up and have a little fun. Lo’ak on the other hand was full of surprises. He was funny and adventurous. You enjoyed spending time with them.
Over the last couple of years that they’ve lived here, you’ve all grown close, even with Ao’nung. The Sully kids adapted to your ways quickly and they’ve become upstanding, respected members of the clan.
Tonight, you are all sitting around a fire on the beach drinking like you would do often when you all had some free time. You all laugh and joke and talk for hours under the night sky. Eventually Kiri announces that she’s ready to turn in for the night and Tsireya follows suit behind her leaving you alone with Ao’nung, Neteyam, and Lo’ak. The precarious position you’re in right now is lost on you, but not Ao’nung. He sees this as the perfect opportunity to have a little fun with you.
“How about we play a game?” he suggests with a sly grin.
You raise an eyebrow at him since suggesting games wasn’t usually his thing, but you were curious to see where this was going. “What game?” “Truth or Dare.”
“Alright, who wants to go first?” you ask.
You all shift your gazes around at each other for a second before Lo’ak decides to raise his hand and volunteer.
“Okay, Lo’ak, truth or dare?”
“Truth, hit me with your best shot.” He turns his nose up showing off his confidence in his choice.
You try to think of a good question to ask him, “Are you a virgin?” You’re not sure why that was the question that came to mind, but you put it out there now so you have to stand by it.
“Nope.” He winks at you when he answers and Neteyam swats his arm to tell him to behave.
“No real surprise there, I guess” you say about to take another sip of your drink.
“Guess you would know, huh?” you hear Ao’nung mumble next to you.
You turn to look at him with a questioning look, “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I mean, guys talk. And I’ve heard a thing or two about you is all.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly while Neteyam and Lo’ak watch on.
“Alright, my turn to ask. Truth or dare?” Lo’ak asks you.
“Truth.” “So is it true? What all the guys say about you?” Neteyam hits Lo’ak again. He can’t believe that Lo’ak would actually ask you such a thing.
You don’t take any offence to the question, though. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you laugh a little to yourself taking another swig of your drink.
“I would, actually.” Ao’nung speaks up. “See, I think you’re all talk. And the stories I’ve heard? I think they’re just that, stories. There’s no way you’d be able to handle a real pounding.” Ao’nung knew exactly what he was doing. He was challenging you. Testing you to see how far you’d go to prove him wrong. He’s always known how to manipulate you into doing what he wanted. And you weren’t stupid. You could recognize the manipulation from a mile away. But you could never stop yourself from playing right into his schemes. And this time would be no different.
“Please, I could take all 3 of you if I wanted.” You scoff. You’re mostly bluffing, but you’re feeling emboldened by the alcohol. Your words make Neteyam choke a little on his drink across from you.
Ao’nung leans closer to your face with a devilish look, “Prove it, then. I dare you.”
Your jaw clenches while you mentally wrestle with yourself. Were you really about to do this? Just to prove a point? What point were you even trying to actually prove? But you didn’t want to back out now. Fuck it.
“Fine. Who wants to go first?” You look between the three of them and each of them have a different expression on their faces. Neteyam looks borderline horrified at the suggestion. Lo’ak is in disbelief. And Ao’nung looks smug as hell. “I’ll do it. Doubt you’ll actually see it through though” he taunts. He stands to undo his loincloth while you do the same.
Neteyam and Lo’ak are wide-eyed at the scene unfolding front of them. “Bro, is this for real?” Neteyam leans over and asks Lo’ak not fully believing what he’s witnessing. “Bro, I sure hope it is.”
You lie on your back and let your knees fall open to expose your glistening cunt. Ao’nung has a quick flash of amazement run across his face before he replaces it with his signature sly grin. “So wet already. Is that all for me?” he teases while rubbing his tip through your slick.
“You wish. This is for our audience.” You retort and shoot a wink to the two brothers watching in disbelief. Both of their faces are flushed, but Lo’ak’s eyes are already staring at you full of lust. Your eyes snap back to Ao’nung when he starts to sink into you.
Your mouth falls open feeling the way he stretches you. Truth was, you had only had sex once before. It was stupid and didn’t last that long and you both agreed to not tell anybody about it. Clearly, you were the only one that held up your end of the agreement and that’s part of the reason you’re even in this situation right now.
Ao’nung was much bigger than the other guy and the fullness makes tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you fight to hold them back. By the time he bottoms out inside of you, your fingers are digging into the sand beneath you trying to steady yourself while you adjust to his intruding size.
“Damn, so fucking tight. You sure you’re not a virgin?” he’s trying to tease you, but you can see how his breathing starts to stagger. He sets a slow pace steadily thrusting into your heat. Your eyes close feeling his hips roll into yours. The pain quickly subsided and left only pleasure in its wake. Soft moans leave your lips feeling how he grazes your sweet spot. You lock your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Oh fuck, right there.”
Ao’nung can’t take the sound of your voice. It’s driving him crazy to watch the way his cock sinks into you over and over again. He had secretly wanted this for so long. To have you right now, hair splayed out, eyes rolling back, and sweet moans leaving your mouth, it’s more than he can bear. He buries his face in your neck breathing in your scent and letting it cloud his senses.
You look over at Neteyam and Lo’ak relishing in the feeling of being watched. Neteyam has a hard time holding his eyes on you, but Lo’ak is completely tuned in and stroking himself through his loincloth. His eyes don’t leave you for a second. Something about knowing that he’s watching you be used and knowing that he’s touching himself just dying to be inside of you turns you on even more. It makes the growing knot in your stomach tighten even more, just seconds away from snapping. “Oh shit…I’m gonna cum.”
Ao’nung sits up on his knees and throws your legs on his shoulders to angle your hips up and drill directly into your sweet spot. “Ah!..Ao’nung ha-ah….I’m cumming!” your head falls back and your hands desperately search for something to grab onto while your first orgasm washes over you. Ao’nung grunts above you feeling how your walls clench him even tighter and now he’s nearing his own high.
Once you ride out your high, he pulls out of you and strokes himself over you until he cums on your stomach. It’s hot and thick, but the feeling grounds you back into reality. Both of your chests are heaving trying to catch your breath.
You look up at him while he’s composing himself, “Told you.”
He chuckles lowly, “Don’t start talking shit just yet. You still have 2 more to go.” He grabs his loincloth and starts to redo it.
Lo’ak practically jumps from his place in the sand. He’s been eager to get his turn since you first agreed. It was almost painful how hard he was. He unties his loincloth and even you can notice how big your eyes get. His cock springs to life already rock hard and oozing precum. The length and girth are completely different from Metkayina men. Suddenly one of your friends’ words make sense to you now. ‘It’s always the skinny ones that surprise you.’ Guess she wasn’t joking.
He watches your face in amusement. He knew he was blessed and he had no intention of being humble about it.
“Alright, how do you want m—”
Before you can finish your thought, Lo’ak had already flipped you over and hoisted your hips up into the air. “Just like that.” His hands slide up and down your thick thighs and his calloused fingers grip the plush of your ass. He grips and spreads and smacks just relishing in the view of your arousal dripping down your legs. He feels like his head is spinning.
You prepare yourself for him to enter you, but instead, he uses his tongue and licks one long stripe from your clit up to your dripping hole and tongue fucks you. Now, this was a completely new sensation. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before and it was like heaven. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”
Little squeals and mewls fall from your mouth while his tongue pokes and prods inside of you. His hands continue exploring your ass and spreading you open even more for easier access.
Once he’s had his fill, he sits up on his knees and aligns himself with your hole. You feel the tip poke at your entrance and suddenly there’s lightning shooting through you as he rams his entire length into you at once.
He gives you no real time to adjust as he starts pounding into you. “Shit, man you weren’t kidding. She is fucking tight.” He’s pulled into a trance watching the way your ass bounces back against his hips. Your moans are loud and shameless. He reaches a new depth that feels like he’s poking into your stomach. It’s almost too much, but when you look over at Ao’nung and Neteyam, the way Neteyam starts to bite his lip listening to you and Ao’nung is casually stroking himself watching you, you can’t even be bothered to think about anything else but how much you want them to watch you more.
“Haah…more! More Lo’ak!” you breathlessly plead. Your body starts to move on its own throwing your hips back into him to meet his thrusts. You’re trying to push him even deeper into you which would normally hurt, but in the fog of your desire, it gives you nothing but satisfaction.
Lo’ak leans forward and reaches around to start rubbing messy circles on your clit. “Ah! Fuck!” The stimulation makes your whole lower body feel like electricity.
“Yeah, cum on that dick. Just like that.” His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and your body starts to shake under the force of your second orgasm. It’s too much to contain and you can feel an even more intense feeling taking over you right at the very peak. “Shit shit shit!” You have no time to get any more words out before you squirt all over Lo’ak’s lower body and hand. His fingers on your clit rub back and forth spraying your juices everywhere while he still pounds into you chasing his own high. “Ah! Lo-ak! Fuck!” Hearing how your voice calls out his name pushes him over the edge. He quickly pulls out of you at the last second and pumps his fist up and down his shaft until his hot cum spills onto your back.
Your legs finally give way and you fall into the sand. Lo’ak stands and pulls his loincloth back on. A dull ache starts to settle in your core from all the abuse it’s taken, but you harden your resolve knowing that there was still one more. You all turn to look at Neteyam and his face flushes feeling put on the spot. If you were being totally transparent, Neteyam was the one you were most curious about. Unlike most men his age, he didn’t go around bragging about his size or his sexual conquests. He has always been more reserved when it came to that kind of stuff. He was a wild card. You didn’t really know what to expect from him.
“Come on, bro. You’ve got to. Swear you won’t regret it.” Lo’ak says lightly slapping his shoulder.
He hesitates and stumbles over his words trying to pick whatever he feels like is the right answer. While he speaks, you notice the huge bulge under his loincloth. You muster all the strength you can find in your body and crawl over to him slow and sensually. His eyes lock on you and he watches as you get right between his legs and play with the knot on the waistband of his cloth. “Come on ‘Teyam. Come play with me.”
He swallows hard while you untie his loincloth and free his throbbing cock. His size may be the most impressive. It’s similar to Lo’ak, but slightly skinnier and about an inch longer. Your subconscious panics a little thinking about how it was going to fit inside of you. Lo’ak was already crowding your cervix when he was inside of you, but your conscious mind has already decided that you’re just going to have to make it fit.
Your hand strokes his dick experimentally watching his expression intently. He holds your gaze while his breathing gets quicker. The two of you don’t say a word, but your eyes say everything. You silently ask him if he’s okay with this and tell him it’s fine if he’s not. But he gives you the go ahead to continue finally giving in.
You carefully straddle his lap and grind your cunt against him and coat him in your slick and the remnants of your last orgasm. His hands rest on your hips while you grind on him. “We’ll just take it easy, okay?” you say gently to him and he nods.
You lift your hips and catch his tip right on your entrance. You lower yourself down on him slowly to help ease him into it, but also because your hole is so worn out from the previous beatings and you need to take his size slowly. Inch by inch he reaches deeper and deeper into you until you could swear he’s knocking on the bottom of your lungs. It’s almost hard to even breathe by the time you make it all the way down. He watches your face trying to make sure that you’re okay and he’s not hurting you. You have to bite your lip to hold back the soft sobs that want to escape from the twinge of pain. You just have to push past this discomfort and then it’ll be fine. That’s how it goes. Slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth on top of him. From the way Neteyam’s eyebrows knit together, you can tell he feels good and that helps you to relax and start to feel good too. You guide his hands to grip your ass, “It’s okay” you whisper to him. You let his hands grip you and lead your hips to where it feels best for him. Soon, he starts to let his hips buck up into you and it’s overwhelming. “Haah…oh fuck Neteyam…” your head feels dizzy while he strokes up into you. He’s much more gentle than Ao’nung or Lo’ak and, for now, you thank Eywa for that. Your hands grip his braids and hold his head close to your chest where Neteyam kisses and licks and sucks on every single inch of skin he can see. His big arms completely wrap around your waist to hold you in place while he ruts into you faster and harder.
“Shit, just look at how good she takes it. Maybe those rumors are true.” Lo’ak says to Ao’nung somewhere behind you. You almost forgot you had an audience and the thought of them watching as your ass bounces up and down on Neteyam’s dick sends you into a frenzy. Moans and curses weave together as they leave your mouth losing yourself on top of Neteyam. He lets out low, guttural groans feeling your heat hugging around him perfectly. Even in his best dreams, he hasn’t imagined you feeling this good. And he dreamed about it a lot. 
That knot is growing in your stomach again and it’s back with a vengeance. “’Teyam, I-I’m gonna cum!”
“Shit, me too.”
You cling onto him for dear life trying to chase that high. You don’t bother to get off of him when he says he’s going to cum. All that matters is reaching that euphoria. When the knot snaps, it breaks with the force of a typhoon. Your mind goes completely blank and your vision spots with white dots, but your body moves on autopilot still rising and sinking on his cock. “Hng..shit..” Neteyam can’t hold off his own release anymore with the way your walls are squeezing him and he spills everything he has inside of you.
The fire in your core damn near sends you over the edge again, but you finally feel yourself fall back into your body as you come down.
Both of you are sweaty and clinging onto one another while your minds clear the lustful stupor you both got caught up in.
Neteyam helps lift your hips up just high enough so that he can pull out of you. The emptiness makes you wince, but you’re relieved. You fall back into the sand and stare up at the sky while the night’s events race through your head.
Ao’nung slow claps off to the side of you. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be able to do it, but I’ll concede. You proved me wrong.”
Bullshit. He never cared about being proven wrong or right. And you knew that, but you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn.
A wide smile split your face and you turn your head to look at him.
“We should play this again some time.”
396 notes · View notes
ask-meowscarada · 8 months
Note
CHERI: "H-how did you meet this 'Blackjack' fellow you mentioned?"
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Charade: "Nah. I figured it was something like that. I wouldn't have gone over to introduce myself if I thought you were creepy, you silly string bean."
Tumblr media
Blackjack: “Aha, I guess not, huh? W-well, it turns out we both had… similar experiences growing up as shiny Pokémon. It was validating to talk to someone who understood that.”
Tumblr media
Charade: “I ended up staying in the village for a while so I could hang out with my new friend. We got to introduce Tricky and Ridley to each other, too! And then, well, we never left.”
Tumblr media
(( Thank you to everybody who suggested their blogs for cameos!
Cheri (Sylveon) from @askfatalefurfrou
Toshi (Espeon) from @blueespeon
Angela (Noivern) from @askwornhearts
Crow (Gimmighoul) from @ask-gimmiventures
Darla (Zorua) from @darling-zorua
Honey (Flareon) from @askbookwormflareon
Isaiah (Bayleef) from @luckystravels
Okko (Meowstic) from @pmd-waveringfate
Poseidon (Inteleon) from @ask-sarah-and-co
Deoxys (Deoxys) from @askdeoxys
Characters were chosen using a randomizer, with the exceptions of Cheri and Toshi (whose inclusion came from a previous interaction). The Serperior barista and Lucario belong to me. I'll certainly be doing things like this again in the future!! ))
139 notes · View notes
psychospore · 1 year
Text
In a different light
If you like more Loki fics, check out my Masterlist
Summary: Loki confesses his love as he takes care of you after you barely survived your recent mission.
Pairing: Loki x Agent!reader
Word count: 985
Warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, suggestive innuendos if you squint.
Tumblr media
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Having Loki around in the Avengers tower feels like walking on eggshells for you. Despite your constant bantering with him, you never let your guard down around him knowing full well what he's capable of. All of this seems contradictory to your crush on him.
You were on heightened alert when he's around but you still crave his presence in his absence. You enjoyed how he keeps you on the edge with his witty mind and his smugness against the rest of the team.
One day, you went on a solo mission to infiltrate HYDRA and steal information. You barely made it out alive after a huge-scale scuffle with the agents there.
Your vision darkened as you walk towards the Avenger's tower. You saw a familiar figure running towards you just before you passed out in exhaustion. You bit your gashed lip, a taste of iron from the blood. The last thing you felt was a faint scent of wood and pine as you slumped into the arms of your rescuer.
You did not know how long you were knocked out but you were expecting a sore body and a throbbing headache. Unexpectedly, you don't feel that way - you felt no pain, part of you thinking you might be dead, as you flutter your eyes open when you felt someone gently tugging on your hand.
"Glad to know you've finally woken from your deep slumber, agent," Loki's sweet velvety voice spoke as he wraps a clean bandage on your hand and wrist.
Slightly alarmed by his presence, you tried propping yourself up but your energy has not quite returned yet so you ended up squirming.
"Where's everybody?" You asked.
"Fury called them for an urgent mission, it's just us here, darling" he answered, never breaking his gaze toward you.
Your brows furrowed at the thought of being alone with him. But you were more curious about what has happened, why he decided to help you out this time.
"what happened? How long was I out?"
"It's been 3 days now, love. You passed out and thank the Norns I caught you before you hit your head on the floor," he chuckled.
"you helped me? Why?" you questioned.
"Would it be so out of character for me to help out my most favorite agent?" He grinned
"kinda," you faintly smiled "I just didn't find you to be someone who would do such things to other people"
"oh, I don't. Just you. I wouldn't have someone to banter with if you die"
"ain't that a sucker. How did you do it? I don't feel pain" you asked as you started getting comfortable being in his presence, seeing him in a different light.
"Mother taught me healing magic. Not that I need to use it often. You were battered and bruised and the best I could do is take it away. Although some of your wounds need more care so I just ended up wrapping them in bandage"
"thank you, Loki. You also managed to bring me to my room," you thanked him.
"I knew you would prefer it that way. I made you some food too if you'd like," was he blushing? You asked yourself.
You raised a brow, why was he doing this all of a sudden? But you were extremely grateful for his gesture. "That would be splendid,"
He brought you a warm meal that you chowed down out of hunger as he sat beside your bed. You finished the meal in no time, and you were pleased to know he's not that bad of a cook.
"Thanks for the meal, Loki. But really - why are you doing all of this?" You asked, thinking there might be some sort of hidden agenda behind it.
"if you must insist, agent -" he stopped for a while as you await a witty response from him.
"I've been keenly interested in you for a while now. There's nothing more to it than a sincere gesture of my care for you, love" he responded, leaning closer. He sat on your bed beside you, sweeping a stray lock of hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear.
You blushed, you did not expect him to feel the same way about you. You felt vulnerable with his touch grazing the side of your face.
"May I?" His warm breath whispered in your ear, pulling away slightly after to see your reaction to his question as he looked at you intently. His warm cupping your cheek. You responded with a meek nod.
He drew closer and his lips gently crashed against yours. You felt your core heating up as you exchanged kisses, both of your tongues intertwining with each other in a slow and sensual motion. You broke the kiss as you searched for air.
"I swear to the Norns, if only you weren't hurt, I could have taken you already," he whispered.
"I guess that would have to wait until I'm all fixed up then, but that would mean everyone will be back by that time," you retorted, grinning from ear to ear.
"you cheeky - I swear by that time, I'll make sure they hear you scream my name as it echoes throughout the building,"
Your face turned beet red at the thought of him making love to you.
"but for now, you rest and get better. You will need all the energy you have to keep up with me all night" he declared, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You pouted in disappointment but you look forward to when that time comes.
You shuffle under the covers to make yourself comfortable as you decide to drift off to sleep again.
"rest well, my love. I love you. I'll see you in the morning," he made a quick peck on your lips before he made his exit.
"I love you too," you lazily answered as your eyes grew heavy.
296 notes · View notes
egophiliac · 1 year
Note
hi, just wanted to say I've just started to get into Twisted Wonderland and binge read your comics and content for it, it was really fun to read! i love how you draw the different characters' expressions! im still super new to it (haven't played the game yet but i got kinda hooked on reading the main story after looking it up by chance) but id love to play it eventually! do you have any suggestions on what to look up/read next as far as character backstories/interactions go? ive really enjoyed the parts from the birthday events (? i think?) that you have done comics from, they sound really fun! thanks for your time!
oh boy, GET READY because the personal stories/vignettes are where the real meat lies. like, the main story is the main draw, of course, and for good reason -- I am champing as the start of episode 7 grows nearer -- but Twst's strength is definitely in its enjoyable characters and their slice-of-life interactions in Zany Magic School. and fortunately, there's a lot of them!
(sorry this got so long, I have many feelings about anime characters)
most of the stories and events don't have a specific chronology aside from taking place sometime after episode 2 of the main story, so once you've gotten that far you're good to jump in almost anywhere! (the more recent events, starting with Fairy Gala IF, are explicitly set after episode 6 -- though if you're going off of the English version then I don't think any of them have been released yet.) event cards also assume that you've gone through the event story first and usually have spoilers or references for it. otherwise there's no real order, so you can just pick a character you like or event you think looks interesting and go from there!
one of the things I really like about Twst is that interactions aren't limited to defined groups -- everyone has inter-dorm friendships and clubs and sub-friend groups and opinions on everyone else that range from "well, I don't know if we're exactly friends, but we study together sometimes" to "I would literally die and/or murder for him" (and sometimes "I would literally die and/or murder for him but he won't let me >:("). characters pop up in each other's stories all the time, and pretty much everyone gets some extra depth or development to them that doesn't come out in the main story, so I do think it's worth it to read through at least a few for every character.
like, if you just go through the main story, you only really get to see Nice Mom Friend Trey, and not that he's actually kind of a petty asshole who is weirdly obsessed with dentistry and goes around sticking his hands in people's mouths. everybody has things like that! Jade is super into mushrooms! Leona is a feminist! Malleus has an intense emotional attachment to his tamagotchi! Cater participates in shallow consumerism because nothing in life has any meaning and actually his friends are pretty worried about him!
tl;dr read everything because this game knows what it's about and that's ✨Characters✨
449 notes · View notes
askfallenroyalty · 1 year
Text
my thoughts on finishing AFR (tumblr version)
Tumblr media
Firstly, thank you all so, so so much for reading.
5 years ago, on February 19th, 2018, 2:24 PM I posted the first AFR comic. I drew it thinking it'd be a nice little project for a few months, and then I'd move on. Little did I know it'd become a huge passion project and something that's brought me many, many tears and laughter. It's been a journey making this thing, I can easily say I am hardly the person I am when I first made this. I've learned so much about myself, the world, and what I wanted to say in comics.
AFR didn't become a serious project until I realized Asriel and Chara's story hit home to me and I realized I had something more profound to say than just "heehee silly ut comic where siblings squabble." Now it's become a story about growing up, and the life after the "happy ever after." What does it mean for "everybody to live?" well, you live. You suffer. You cry and laugh and it's everything you want and you fear. You wake up another day.
It's no secret that Chara and Asriel are heavily based on myself. Every OC and every character I can put my grubby little hands on have been influenced by me. Yun's excitement for monsters, Mew Mew's loud declarations of frenzied thought, Hol's quiet, head-in-the-clouds nature... the list goes on. Knowing the characters now, I'm excited for the redraw as I can paint their stories from start-to-finish properly. It pains me more than anything I can't just say "here's a finished product, fully and forever." But one step to getting there was finally finishing the tumblr version. So even if I were to die, or lose my ability to draw, I can say: I told my story. I made it real. It's messy, incomplete, and not at all what I aspire it to be, but it's here. And that means, so, so much to me.
Never again will I be accepting story asks. Never again will we see what crazy thing Asriel and Chara are up to in their journey into adulthood. While the story will continue to develop, it has it's ending.
I've grown, a lot. I started this when I was 21 years old. I've had a on/off relationship, I've learned I'm neurodivergent, I've moved out of my abusive dad's home. I've had so many jobs in that time. I lived through the pandemic (not that it's over) and I've made and lost (out of touch) friends along the way. I am Sam. I drew AFR. I still have so much left to do to make it fully realized but I did it.
And in that time people have offered me grammar and spelling corrections. Advice, suggestions, fanart. You've sent like, I can only imagine to be at least a thousand asks in this amount of time. You guys have been a huge part in this comic being made. Even as the story moves more and more away from the "Ask" part of the title, you guys made it so much more fun, thought provoking, and exciting.
So while my minds a bit scattered and I'm kinda jumbled up, I just want to say with every bit of myself: THANK YOU!!!!!
I understand if many of you don't choose to stick around for the redraw, I'm more than thankful to anyone who's read this far (or heck, just one tumblr post is enough. I feel seen.) and if you so choose to stay, I look forward to sharing a million more little moments with you. ^_^
Thank you and I wish you the very best, have a good life. Peace and love on the planet earth <3
187 notes · View notes
giggly-squiggily · 2 months
Text
💝Candy Heart Valentine Event 2024!💝
Tumblr media
We're back again- WHOOO!
Heyo everybody! It's the sweetest time of the year; Candy Hearts time! Thank you so, so much to everyone who's participated in the sentence starters survey this year; it really helped me figure out what prompts to keep and which to change out! I truly appreciate it!
Another major thank you to everyone who's also sent in suggestions! There were so many good ones to pick from; and I ended up choosing a few from the ones recommended!
💝 Rules💝
- Send me a pairing (Platonic or Romantic) from the fandoms listed below along with a candy heart phrase (Sentence Starter) from the list! (Ex: ObaMitsu- True Love) and I will write a short dabble for it!
- The event will be open from January 28-February 13th, ending at 8:00 PM EST. I will make an announcement when prompts are officially closed!
-Multiple prompts are allowed! The limit is like- 5? Just be sure to send them in separate asks if you send multiples! (Helps me make sure I get them all :D)
- Dabbles will start coming out Feb 1!
- I do write “Character x Reader!” (If you want it to be platonic, please specify with “Platonic!Reader”)
-Multiple sentence starter requests are allowed!
- Requester’s Choice: This is essentially a blank Candy- you can pick whatever sentence starter you want for it! :)
-Please check my pinned post for any characters/ships/things I will and won't write! Thank you :)
~Candy Hearts and Fandoms Below The Cut~
💝 Candy Heart Sentence Starters 💝
**: Recommended by you lovely folks!
❤️ Be Mine: “Oh that is IT! Come here!”
🧡 Miss You: “When’s the last time you smiled?”
💛 True Love: “I could do this all day.”
💚 Cutie: “You can't hide from me, I can hear you laughing!"**
💙 XOXO: “Hey, do you like raspberries?”
💜 Angel: “What happens if I do this?”
❤️ I love you: "What a brave thing to say for someone so ticklish."**
🧡 Bestie: Requester’s choice: Pick your own sentence starter!
💛 Sweet Heart: “Oh? Is someone ticklish?”
💚 Cupid: “I’m gonna get you!”
💗 Say Yes: “Hey did you- give that back!"**
💙 Smile: “I didn’t know you were ticklish here!”
💜 Hug: “I just want a hug!”
❤️ Darling: “Do you want me to tickle you?”
🧡 Love bug: “What’s so funny?”
💛 Soul Mate: “Not there? What about here?”
💚 Sweet Pea: “Is this a bad spot?”
💙 Adore: “I haven't even touched you yet!"
💜 Kiss me: “Don’t stop? If you say so!”
❤️ Me + You: “No way! I didn’t know you were ticklish!”
🧡 Always and Forever: “Look how red you are! How cute!”
💛 I’m Yours: “You like being tickled, don’t you?”
💚 Puppy love: “Where are those giggles I love so much?”
💙 Only You: "Stop squirming!"**
💜 Hot Stuff: “Come over here and make me!”
🩷 Be My Valentine: "I know all your weaknesses!"**
❤ It's Love: "Hey could You...You Know?"
🧡 Babydoll: "Keep your arms up!"**
💝 Fandoms 💝
-Some of the fandoms on here will have **Limited Request** beside them. This means I will only be taking up to a limited amount of that fandom.
If the fandom is crossed out, it means all slots for it have been filled!
Big Windup
Black Clover
Blue Lock
Buddy Daddies
Bungo Stray Dogs
Chainsaw Man
Code Realize
Collar x Malice
Danganronpa
Demon Slayer **Limited Request**
Dr. Stone
Fire Force
Fruit’s Basket
Free! Iwatobi Swim Club
Given
Haikyuu!!
Heartstopper
Hell’s Paradise: Jirokuraku
Hunter x Hunter (Up to Greed Island arc)
Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure
Jujutsu Kaisen
Komi Can’t Communicate
Moriarty The Patriot
My Hero Academia **Limited Requests**
Piofiore (Dante's route; still working on others)
Pokemon **Limited Requests** (All Gens)
Rain Code: Master Detectives
Sk8 The Infinity
Spy x Family
Toliet Bound Hanako Kun
Tokyo Revenges
Vinland Saga
Yu Yu Hakusho
Thanks again to everyone! I'm so excited to see what y'all have in store! :D
35 notes · View notes
aziraphales-library · 5 months
Note
Hi! By the time this posts, it should be well beyond the debut of the second series, so I hope you all are doing okay! I am ISO crossovers with small or obscure fandoms which might be more difficult to search. I enjoy recs from popular crossovers as well! But sometimes there’s only one fic in a category which can get buried, and I’m specifically looking for that random good omens- tiny-fandom crossover where someone picks up one of their obscure old fav and creates something exciting with their love for good omens. Thank you kindly!
Hello! This was actually a lot of fun to search for! There's no 'easy' way to do it, but if you want to go hunting yourself I recommend using AO3 to filter out the popular crossover fandoms by adding them to the 'tags to exclude' list and just browsing through what's left. These aren't all necessarily small fandoms, but they don't have loads of crossovers with Good Omens. I'm recommending these ones simply because they sound fun and I want to read them myself!...
Perfect Books by risky_writing (G)
When Ted was looking for a book to perfectly communicate what he needed to each of his players, he found himself in the most peculiar bookstore in London. But, it sure is a swell place.
The lovers, the dreamers, and me by hapax (G)
A frog with a dream. An angel with an assignment. A pig with regrets. A demon with a mission. The crossover that nobody asked for, but everybody needs.
Hell and Back by anticyclone (T)
"Perhaps we could assist you with the …subjugation… of this angel," Winifred suggested, which made Crowley groan again and Anathema cringe. Aziraphale just rolled his eyes. "You see, I still have a connection to my Book, and I need to bring it back to Hell with me." "This book? With the eyeball?" Crowley looked at it, and then up at Aziraphale, who smiled at him. The demon turned back to Winifred. "That's not happening." The Sanderson sisters have been in Hell for some three hundred years and have still not had the pleasure of being introduced to Satan. But Winifred thinks she has a way to rectify that, if only she can get her hands on her Book. Luckily, some angel put it on an unprotected shelf, where it's able to find itself a witch.
Ineffable Dogma by ThetaSigma (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley find out there is apparently a massive plot threatening all of creation. With a bit of experience stopping the End of Everything, they set off to make sure nothing goes wrong. Which is a good thing, as no one told Bethany & Co what was really at stake. In the end, it takes all of them -- Bethany & Co and the Ineffable Husbands -- to fix this. *** Bethany has the feeling, on and off, since they left the club with the shit demon, that they’re being watched. Oh, she knows that both Heaven and Hell are watching their actions pretty fucking closely, really, but it doesn’t feel like that. It’s like someone, maybe several someones, are following them, following her. She catches glimpses, sometimes. Of red hair, or a scowl, or white hair, or a cherubic face wreathed in disappointment. But it’s gone as quickly as it came and she’s left doubting if it ever happened.
"So Fetch" Omens by IneffableAlien (T)
After sixteen years of van life with her religious hippie parents, homeschooled Azi is enrolled in public school for the first time.
The Divine at the Warfront by creativeimagination206 (T)
In the throes of the Korean War, Aziraphale is sent to a mobile medical unit near the front to address the sudden influx of prayer from that area. With Crowley by his side, the angel must determine and straighten out the cause of the heaven-sent pleas, all while navigating the unfamiliar territory of the 4077th and the rather eccentric cast of characters that await them.
The Starting Hinge by lucky_spike (T)
When a rare book collector is mysteriously killed, DI Barnaby and DS Winter are on the case. Meanwhile, the question of what will become of the victim's extensive library stirs a small group of rare books collectors into a furor. Who can be trusted? - This is predominantly a Good Omens fanfic with some Midsomer Murders thrown in just because I could do it and I wanted to. Contains death of an OC and (obvs) murder and attempts thereof. Nothing gory, though, so party on.
- Mod D
41 notes · View notes