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brimbrimbrimbrim · 2 years

Note

Can you combine 38 and 13. He’s posing. 🥰

Nice combo! Here’s my attempt at a short Eddie thing. :D The prompt list is HERE for anyone else interested. <3

Title: Art School

Words: 3k

Tags: nudity, pinning, mutual pinning, jealousy, crop tops, eye-fucking, flirting, UST <3

Summary: 38. posing nude for art and 13. "Wipe that smirk off your face!"

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It’s mid-summer, on a Saturday, and the AC is out at the Munson trailer where you and Eddie would normally be lavishing your attention over the miniatures you both bought on Friday from the Neptune Comic Shop in the next town over. Instead of that, however, as stimulating as it was and would be, you’re at your place where the house is empty on Lover’s Lake and the air is chilled—though Eddie hasn’t changed back into his hellfire shirt and vest like you assumed. Seeing him throw down on the paisley sofa in the living room, a gaggle of pale skin and wild (slightly damp with sweat) brown hair, made you pop the question.

“Wouldn’t it be weird if I drew you? No… I should totally draw you. Let me draw you, okay?”

How could you not think about it when his threadbare DIO crop top, with the sleeves ripped off, was just… riding up his stomach like that??

“Like…” Eddie extends the word, frozen mid-chill over the cushions with an unlit joint perched between his lips, “… draw me how?” Did you detect a hint of suspicion in his tone as well?

You shrug, fanning yourself with the hem of your loaned Ozzy tank, having totally forgotten your long sleeve back in his room where it’d been declared a bodily hazard in the heat an hour ago; now you’re here—home—but why is it still warm in here?

“The regular way?” You supply suggestively.

“So, I don’t have to do anything?” His posture relaxes, the joint leaning against his bottom lip as he sinks into place. Saturday Eddie, especially post-graduation, part-time record store worker on a Saturday Eddie, preferred to move as little as humanly possible; hence the joint wetting against his tongue and the kicked-off Reeboks on your floor, his ankles already folded on the armrest.

“Do anything? Oh, no… I mean, you can literally lay there and touch the sky, in fact,” you rub your thumb under your chin, looking at his figure in the pale afternoon light spilling in from the bay windows, “… yeah, in fact, I would have to insist you be as stoned as possible; otherwise, you’ll just mess it all up with your jitters.”

Eddie makes a face that suggests he thought about being offended but is already bought and sold by your stoney encouragement. He fishes for a lighter out of his pocket and does as he’s told. When you make a sound in your throat, Eddie pauses, big ol’ browns aimed your way across the living room.

“Uh-huh?” He mouths.

“Sorry, just…” you lift your hand in a gesture that’s basically a raised pointer finger crooked awkwardly at his unlit spliff, “… if you could take all your clothes off first, that’d be great.”

Both his brows lift. Eddie blinks, eyes going wide in delayed surprise, and—endearingly—the joint slips off his lower lip to his chest as he swallows thick and loud.

“You… want me to…”

“Then again,” you backpedal quickly, “… I can always wait for the community center to start up their life drawing classes again—or I could ask Steve—or we could-“

“Harrington?!” Eddie bolts upright on the sofa, fumbling with the tender joint that nearly falls to the floor until he’s got it fisted in a death grip against his exposed stomach, glaring over at you in peak natural lighting that throws beautiful shadows into his horrified face, “Please don’t tell me you’ve already asked him?”

Is that jealousy in his voice?

“What? No…” You force a little laugh, remembering the absolutely shocking amount of chest hair on Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington back in the Upside Down. That would have been a bitch to draw…

“I mean, can you imagine? I might as well draw Bigfoot.”

Some of the tension in Eddie’s body dissipates as you fiddle with the hem of your tank, picking at a stray ink chip on the ‘O’ in Ozzy only to freeze, forgetting it’s not yours… but borrowed, worn on the regular by Eddie with some of his sweaty essence still hanging around the collar. A good, comforting smell that’s ripe with stale nicotine and whatever aftershave he uses (old spice, maybe) settles your nerves a little, at least enough to continue living in the sudden summer silence.

After a thick second, Eddie shifts and stands up, still staring with those doe-dark eyes swimming with blown black pupils and a gleam against the sunlight, “This is part of your portfolio, right? That… uh, the thing you’ve been working on for college?”

You nod, biting down a wry reply because if it’s not theories about the upcoming second edition of D&D, or whether Black Sabbath was better with DIO or Ozzy… or if the record store was going to finally sell some of Eddie’s Corroded Coffin tapes then it was about your portfolio. Eddie’s already posed for you before, albeit usually when he was scratch-writing in campaign details for Hellfire or passed out fetchingly on the floor after indulging in too many peanut butter and marshmallow sammiches mixed with whatever new drug he was selling that month. It won’t even be the first time you’ve drawn him shirtless, having found him sitting on the bench out back a while ago. He’d been in just his jeans after Steve accidentally squirted him with kerosine while trying to light up a barbecue…

You slow blink as a blush fills your cheeks at the memory; it hadn’t been long after spring break ended and his last year in high school began again… with the wounds from the demo bats still fresh enough to pull his skin taut in places that looked terribly painful, but also… metal as fuck.

Your gaze travels down his stomach to the hem of his jeans, where a shiny pink and puckered scar starts around the cut of his hip bone, disappearing past the handcuff belt buckle. That one had infected early on, and you’d often see him with his jeans low around his hips, adjusting fresh gauze with sharp-smelling antibiotic creams.

Lost in memories, you barely hear Eddie clear his throat. He does it again, louder, snapping your eyes back up to his. Oh, shit… you’ve been caught… staring… there… again…

“Is this where the fair maiden confesses her undying love for me after all this time?” He’s wearing a wide-lipped smirk, the joint pinched between his lips as his ring-decorated fingers rapt obnoxiously—erotically—against the front of his cuff-buckle.

“Don’t get cute, Munson,” you admonish, but it’s flimsy, and you both know it.

It’s been a year since Vecna and the bats—the Metallica show in the Upside Down that won you over as if you weren’t already in love with him before then. It’s been just as long since you kissed him, falling with his arms wrapped tight around you—falling right side up in his trailer on that stained mattress, with blood still on his lips and old tears on his cheeks… you’d grabbed him by the puffy vest collar, sobbed in stark relief and kissed him so hard Eddie laughed before fisting your nape in a shaken grip, sticking his tongue down your throat.

You haven't kissed anyone since then for fear it’ll wash away the memory of Eddie messily making out with you on the mattress as the rush of stolen life lowered both your inhibitions. It must have just been the heat of the moment—all that adrenaline needing an outlet somehow. Eddie never brought it up again… though, neither did you.

“You know if you wanted to get me naked, there’s way easier ways to do that, sweetheart.”

“That’s… not,” you rub your blushing cheek bashfully, “why do you have to say it like that?”

Eddie shrugs, looking handsome and lazy and glad to be here with you, “You blush when I flirt with you. Looks good on you. Real pretty,” his relaxed gaze widens as you look away, “... uh, n-not that you’re not always pretty… but prettier. Blushing. That is.”

You glance back, willing your cheeks to cool, but Eddie lifts the crop top over his head, throwing it on the coffee table with a brazen, nervous smile, and your soul turns into a forest fire of biblical proportions. He toes off his socks and then moves to his belt, and it’s then that you turn around—cheeks ablaze—and beeline it to your room at the end of the hallway.

“Where’re you going?” Eddie calls after, sounding like he did something wrong. Far from it, you think.

“N-need my stuff!” You squeak, slipping into your bedroom.

The gloomy, familiar contours of your bedroom do nothing to ease the burn in your face or the gallop of your heart. You’ve got about ten seconds before Eddie gets fidgety and follows you back here, so… where the fuck is your charcoal tin?! Where did you put your mother fucking confidence?! You pace, fingers in your hair, willing your breathing to settle, and as you’re on the cusp of hyperventilating, you kick something halfway under your bed with a woodsy rattle.

Your charcoals?! Yes!

“Come here, you stupid fucking-“

“Being bossy with the inanimate objects, huh?” Eddie leans against your door jam, shirtless, covered in salmon-silver testaments to last year's spring break with a light dusting of chest hair… not to mention the soft-looking line of fuzz that runs from his navel to the unbuckled belt hanging off his hips.

Fucking fiddle sticks…

“Why are you-” you freeze, bent over at the waist with your gray-tin case of charcoal in one hand and your bare thigh in the other. With eyes dialed in—narrowed at the slow, almost debauched leer splitting Eddie Munson’s kindly angular face—you huff, “Look, I told you, Eddie. It’s nothing like that, so don’t make it a big thing.”

Eddie’s grin turns to shit-eating delight as your own words ‘big thing’ sink in. Your flush returns ten-fold, realizing the innuendo you slid into the air between you without coaxing from him.

He’s good at that, you grumble, gathering your supplies off the floor to just… do something with your hands other than squirm. You give him a pursed-lipped look over some messy bangs and immediately regret your decision, nervous energy boiling over hard enough that a clean, cool sweat breaks out over your face. How can he do this to you with your own words and that charming Munson smile?

Should be criminal…

“Look, are you gonna help me with this portfolio, or are you gonna use this to mess with me? Cause, you know… I’m sure Steve wouldn’t mind dropping his stupid khakis if I asked nicely.”

Usually, that would get you a pout or some sort of ‘come on, don’t be like that,’ but all Eddie does is drop his chin, gaze steady on yours beneath unkempt bangs… and pops the button on his jeans. You swallow as he peels down the zipper and hooks his thumbs under linen and denim and…

You bite the tip of your tongue to hold down the whine as Eddie kicks off his jeans and boxers, standing stark naked in your doorway, tapping his fingers against his thighs restlessly, still wearing that fucking smirk despite the way his cheeks grow rosy and stained.

“I-I um… okay. T-thank you, Eddie.”

Holy shit. It hurts to keep your eyes above Eddie's downward-cut hips, but… you just gotta get him back to the living room and posed, and then you can look—you’re gonna need to look. Why didn’t that thought cross your mind before, like… really cross your mind?! Right now, if you get a glimpse of whatever Eddie Munson has been hiding behind dramatic hip twists, thick denim, and weighted belt buckles, you’re gonna-

“This would’ve been more impressive back at my place. It’s so fucking cold in here…”

“Uh,” Eddie actually sounds a little nervous despite the canary grin, eyes tracing around your room and settling on your messily-made bed, “Where do you want me?” Why does that sound like such a loaded question?

You double fist the paper pad and tin box just so you can point behind him down the hallway because what even is a voice box anymore? Your whole heart is stuffed in your throat at this point, and speech feels rather impossible… He hesitates for a moment before giving you twin finger guns. What a dork… He gives those fingers a wag before turning around and casually walking down the hallway, you following close behind. The logic being, the closer you are to his naked back, the less inclined you’ll be to look at his bare ass.

Just don't look, and all will be well...

This mantra follows you with each breath until your toe catches a raised floorboard in the middle of the hallway, the bane of your early morning routine, but this time it draws your attention to your feet and then back up, but your eyes don't stop, instead locking on Eddie's butt where a beholder's eye tattoo stares back above his right cheek.

“... oh, my god,” you breathe, suddenly staring right at Eddie’s sweetly pert ass as it bounces gently with each step forward. Talk about paralyzing...

“Hmm?” He moans, sending you a half-glance over his shoulder where his dark curls kiss the red splattering his cheekbone. Despite the lackadaisical flare, it doesn’t help that he seems just as flustered as you.

“I said... umm, just get back on the couch, like… whatever position you find most comfortable. I need like… an hour at least so… so, yeah, get comfy, Eddie.”

Inside, you’re melting, dying, screaming, and gnawing at your own brain, but Eddie just snorts gleefully and walks his bare fucking ass back to the paisley sofa where you’ve both shared joints, haunting silences in the wake of the apocalypse and air shredding solos from the Maiden to the Lizzy.

You avoid him and his everything as he drops back to the sofa just like before—only super fucking naked—and snatches the joint and lighter off the coffee table before you drag it across the floorboards. He gets himself situation outside your peripherals, just a long line of pale skin and long limbs painted in inky bats, dark iconography with shiny scars and dimpled bite wounds… and…

You throw some pillows from the opposite sofa on the ground in front of the coffee table and sit down with your sketch pad with an open charcoal case, knees lifted up to your chest and face covered in fresh, pulp-smelling paper.

“Pretty sure you’re gonna have to look if you wanna draw me unless you’ve thought about this so much your imagination’s just as good.”

You scoff behind the sketch pad, “You’re the Dungeon Master, not me; if anyone could draw each other naked purely from perverted daydreams, it’d be you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, and it’s the silence that finally gets you lowering the pad, peeking over the edge as he tongues the end of a damp joint between his lips. His knuckled fingers are threaded over his stomach, rings of skull, pig, and cross, throwing up sharp pins of light across his knuckles. He’s staring with that same obscured, bang-dusted look, but his eyes are cast downward, glued over your naked legs in the denim shorts….

Your eyes wander as well, feeling less shy as his eyes trace down your calves and bare feet—you, however… Your gaze is so much less innocent… slipping down his navel where his breath rises and falls, past the trail of scattered brown hairs to the grove of wispy curls that frame the half-hard sight of Eddie Munson’s cock, leaning all pink-tipped and thick over his fuzzy thigh with a delicate sack of hairy flesh cradled beneath. He’s got one leg raised, bent up against the back of the sofa with his heel in the cushions, the other hanging off the side where his foot touches the floorboards.

Immediately, your fingers go white—death gripping your sketch pad—as a silky gush of moisture wets your underwear.

He’s… big… why is he so big?! Are they supposed to be that size?

You think back to your limited experience with men and come up overwhelmed by Eddie just laying there naked, not even fully hard on your fucking sofa waiting to be sketched like some classy french girl, but…

Oh, fuck. You can’t do this. Why did you think you could-

Your eyes widen and a little gasp leaves your lips as Eddie’s cock twitches, stiffening… growing ruddy and swollen… the sweeping lines around the tip flaring with blood. Suddenly, without thought, you lick your lips and picture shoving his hips into the sofa while sucking and slurping, licking and drooling as you blow him—siphon his soul through his dick until he’s a blubbering mess with fingers tugging in your hair and hot, salty cum shooting down your throat.

You gulp, blink and look up only to find Eddie fucking Munson with the biggest, most asinine grin on his face—the look of someone who knows he’s being ogled like… like he knows how badly you wanna worship his stupidly, perfect, fucking dick.

“Ugh, wipe that smirk off your face, Eddie! It’s not…” you bite your lip as he flicks the lighter to a hot flame, “… it’s not helping.”

Eddie lights up the joint in the corner of his insufferably attractive smirk, bends an elbow, shoves a palm behind his head, settles deeper into the cushions with a bounce of hard dick, and says on an exhale of weed, “Come over here and make me.”

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You can find me on AO3 and you can read my huge Eddie Munson/Reader fic Fortune Teller too. If ya want. <3

#prompt list #ask #<3 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things s4 #metal head boyfriend #writing #fanfiction

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snoffyy · 2 years

Text

So I thought I’d touch base with the Fried Fish crew cos it’s been a hot minute. I kinda made this up really quickly while I was in a placement at a hospital last week twiddling my thumbs. Bit of a snippet from a weird au spawned during that time; figured I’d share it anyway. Full disclosure: it’s been some time since I last studied the cardiovascular system, so don’t come at me with inaccuracies lmao. I made it as vaguely informative as possible.

(And yes, I made Zhao a heart surgeon just to make a pun.)

“Are you sure you don’t want to go straight home?”

Zhao glared at Jee, sure that his exhaustion was plain on his face. It’d been a long day of surgery, case after case bleeding (ha) together until he barely even remembered what procedures he had done. Look, when one had accepted to be a guest lecturer at the local medical school on the spur of the moment while still juggling research and consultations and lately awfully long operating days – a need to replace all their blood with caffeine became more of a priority than anything.

Hence why he’d jumped at the opportunity to join Jee for a coffee run.

It was four in the afternoon, Zhao had been up since five in the morning, and he still had to get that fucking presentation which he had to give next fucking week in order.

“You’re a heart surgeon,” Jee berated. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, harping on about how caffeine is bad for your heart?”

“Moderate consumption of caffeine doesn’t have detrimental effects on the cardiovascular system,” Zhao said irritably.

“Yeah, but that’s assuming moderate consumption. How many cups have you had today?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

Jee snorted and opened the door to a little café, a bell jingling cheerfully overhead as he gestured for Zhao to enter.

“Sure thing,” Jee said airily. “You might like this place, actually. It’s new. There’s a lot of high schoolers who like to come hang out here, but the coffee is damn good.”

Yeah, Zhao could see a group of them tittering at one of the booths. The radio was on, and there was a string of pink lights hung across the walls, lending a soft glow to the place.

They got in line, and as Jee perused the menu, he absentmindedly asked, “What did you even do today?”

“Heart valve replacements and a coronary artery bypass.”

A low whistle. “Damn.”

Zhao rolled his eyes. “I’m fucking tired. Can’t even enjoy my day off tomorrow because I’m still wrangling with that bullshit powerpoint that should’ve been ready last fucking week.”

“You’ve still got another week,” Jee said sympathetically. They were close to the counter now, and there was a barista with a shock of white hair manning the cash register, her voice light and sweet.

“It’s that time of the year when everything’s cropping up,” Zhao sighed. “Been hell of a lot busier than usual.”

“Ah,” Jee nodded sagely. “Just got to power through it, huh?”

“Yeah,” Zhao grimaced. “It’s fine. I’m on leave soon.”

“Hi, what can I get for you today?”

That same light and sweet voice that had faded into the background jostled Zhao back to reality; the reality being acquiring caffeine, that is.

“A black coffee for me, and a latte for him,” Jee pointed his thumb at Zhao.

“Excuse the fuck out of me,” Zhao sputtered, “I came here for coffee.”

“A latte has caffeine,” Jee waved him off. “If it were up to me, I’d get you a hot chocolate instead.”

“Who’s the cardiothoracic surgeon here?” Zhao protested. “I’ll be fine. Just give me my damn dose of caffeine.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jee said cheerfully to the amused barista. “Went to medical school and all, but sometimes I can hardly believe there’s a brain in there when all he does is inject caffeine into his body.”

“I hate you,” Zhao hissed. “I abhor you with every fibre of my being, I don’t even know why I’m friends with you, I –”

“Ignore him,” Jee continued, handing over his card. “He’s extra dramatic when he’s grumpy. Which is all the time, but it’s been a long day for him.”

“Okay, then,” the barista laughed. “Here or to go?”

“Here,” Jee answered.

“Sure thing.”

Zhao did not sulk as he forlornly watched his dreams of pure black coffee fade away. It wasn’t fair. If Jee was having it, then so should he.

“So, you’re a heart surgeon?” the barista prompted, addressing Zhao with a small smile. “That must be hard.”

The compliment flew straight over his head when he finally turned his full attention to her because, oh wow, she was actually kind of pretty. Bright blue eyes, so warm for such a typically cold colour, and the pearly flash of teeth set in a friendly smile.

“It’s fine,” Zhao managed to make his exhausted brain spit out. “Can be difficult at times, yes, but it’s all part of the job.”

“I can imagine,” she laughed. Yue, it said on her nametag. “A barista isn’t as impressive as a heart surgeon, but it’s been a pretty rough day for me too.”

Zhao idly flicked his lanyard, his ID card clattering against his chest. “You’re providing me caffeine right now, so I’d say your job is very impressive.”

Yue laughed, and why the fuck did it have to sound so unfairly nice? Like the chime of the bell hanging over the front door of the café if Zhao was trying to be poetic.

“Still,” she grinned, handing the receipt to Jee. “One of my friends is in pre-med right now, and I’ve seen her notes on the cardiovascular system. Looks hard.”

“It’s not that hard,” Zhao said, and then immediately felt like an asshole afterwards. Hastily correcting himself, he added, “I mean, if you draw it all out, it becomes fairly straightforward. The cardiovascular system is simply… well, a system. If you know the components and what they do, you can infer how they affect other systems if one of those components goes wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s harder than that,” Yue refuted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Zhao shrugged. “Well, no, if you look at, say, autonomic regulation of cardiac output, it’s only a matter of collecting bits and pieces to form the bigger picture and how it contributes to –”

“That’s enough, Doctor,” Jee interrupted. “Sorry to break it up, but there are other customers waiting for their caffeine fix.”

Jolting out of the haze of let’s go on a tangent about parasympathetic innervation to the heart because why not, Zhao coughed awkwardly when he noticed the small line that had been forming behind them for the past few minutes or so.

With colour splashing across Yue’s cheeks, she gestured for them to sit down, but not before adding with a wink, “I’ll make sure to pour a heart for your latte,” at Zhao.

It took longer than he’d like to admit to process what happened.

She winked at him. And said she’d draw a heart.

Somewhat stunned, Zhao didn’t even register Jee leading the way to a table in the corner.

He did, however, notice when Jee started snickering and goading, “You like her.”

“I do not,” Zhao snapped, cheeks scorching hot. “She just happened to take an interest in my field. I was indulging her.”

“You don’t need to pretend,” Jee started chuckling. “In fact, you could even say that seeing you flirting was actually kind of… heart-warming.”

Zhao could only gawk at Jee, not sure if it was because of that awful pun, or if it was because of the sheer audacity of his claims.

#zhayu #fried fish #ahoy frens #this was very quickly skimmed over #please forgive mistakes #it's also the middle of the night and i really need sleep wheeeee

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misora-msby · 3 years

Text

花火 | chapter two : snow

花火 (fireworks) | chapter two : snow

themes / warnings : medieval japan au, supernatural au, fluff, angst, death, illness

pairing : kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count : 11.7k

notes : please read part one before reading this one! it’ll be nicer i promise, even if it’s long <3 to those who already read it, thank you very much! as always, i did my best to research shintoism but i also did take a few creative liberties. and thank you very much to my dear friend and beta reader @myoyachi <3

part one can be found here

A cold winter wind blew, disturbing the otherwise peaceful landscape of snow. To many who had been tired of the many years of the war, winter was just another grievance. Food was scarce in these months with fewer crops, and the battles were always more painful when you were fighting off enemies, hunger, and hypothermia.

The four kitsunes at the shrine noticed the larger amount of people coming to pray too. Whether it was a farmer making his final prayers for his farm before hurrying and leaving it to his family, or a housewife praying for her unborn children to be healthy so they could help out from a young age, their days were filled with delivering prayers to Inari.

However, today was a quieter day. Fewer people were coming to the shrine due to the snow falling and making the stairs up to the shrine slippery. Hence, Rintarou could take a break sitting on the rooftop as he always did.

He wasn’t bothered by the freezing temperatures. After all, he was just a spirit and he could warm himself up whenever he wanted to. Not that he needed to. Despite that, he still wore a tanzen instead of his regular yukata or jinbei. It was just a little more comfortable in the winter, like wearing a thick blanket around him at all times.

As Rintarou laid on the rooftop, he closed his eyes and felt the tiny flakes fall upon his teenaged face before melting. He wondered how long it had been since he first came to the shrine considering he looked to be about 16 years old now. A small smirk came to his face as he thought about how he had grown to be taller than the other three over all the years.

While Shinsuke didn’t seem to mind, Atsumu and Osamu complained that they still had some time to go. Rintarou didn’t doubt it, but he would simply remind them that that meant he had time to grow too.

Safe to say, the twins shut up after that.

Speaking of which, the silence around him had been interrupted. Rintarou could hear the shrine maidens putting on their sandals and walking around to the front of the shrine. He could also hear the sound of geta clicking their way up the stairs leading to the shrine.

“The maids must’ve seen someone coming up the mountainside to make their prayers.” He thought to himself and relaxed.

“Thank you for making the journey up!” The kannushi greeted. The kitsune wondered if it was someone important. There had been some important daimyos visiting before and he could sense a familiar presence and scent from them.

“It’s alright. We’re more grateful for you being willing to take her in,” an elderly woman spoke.

“We’re sure she will become a wonderful shrine maiden. She’s not of age yet but until then we shall teach her about what we do and take care of her,” one of the shrine maidens spoke. Rintarou frowned slightly at the weird feeling in his chest he was getting, and peeked over the edge of the roof. His breath caught in his throat at the sight.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“L/N...Y/N.”

Rintarou felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. Could it really be you? After all, the spirits of the deceased were not reincarnated but went on to reside in another world. Or maybe you were an anomaly and allowed to reincarnate for whatever reason. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to question it too much. All that he knew was that you were here now. Or someone who resembled you strongly.

“Rintarou,” a strong voice called from behind him. The kitsune turned quickly to sit up and face his senior standing with his arms crossed and his haori resting on his shoulders as usual.

“Yes, senpai?”

“She may not be who ya think she is. Don’t frighten her. And remember to be careful, she’s here to become a shrine maiden.”

The younger kitsune nodded slowly though his gaze drifted to you. Even if he knew you probably wouldn’t remember him, he still wanted to talk to you and to be friends once again.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Deep in the forest, Rintarou had been sitting on the old boulder and watching the moon, contemplating whether to talk to you or not. There was no way you could ever remember him anyways, so was there a point in trying to form a relationship with you again? You would probably be scared of him, right? He had nearly gotten over losing you anyways, so would it be worth it to start this all over again?

As he thought about it, drumming his long fingers against the rock, he heard a familiar sobbing in the distance.

Rintarou instinctively launched himself off of the boulder, his feet landing in the overgrown grass and snow without so much as a crunch before he took off running down the mountain to the shrine. The sobbing wasn’t loud at all, but it was easy for him to hear and he knew who it belonged to.

Right before he could reach the shrine, he came to an abrupt stop.

You were sitting on the engawa of the house where the priests and shrine maidens lived. Soft moonlight shone onto the snow piled around the shrine and gently illuminated your crying form which rubbed at your eyes with the sleeves of your old worn kimono. Rintarou took a step forward but stopped himself knowing that if you saw an older boy suddenly appear in front of you, you might scream. Any attention on himself was the last thing he wanted right now.

He took in a deep breath and a warm feeling spread through the kitsune as his body became smaller and dark fur grew on his skin. The transformation always gave him a weird sensation and a few moments getting used to, but not five seconds later he was a fox. A fox with a few tails, but he could hide that with a bit of illusionary magic.

With snow crunching softly under his little paws, Rintarou slowly walked over to you and sat right in front of you who hadn’t noticed him yet.

When you removed your sleeves from your eyes, you looked down and jumped when you suddenly saw the predatory animal with glowing golden eyes right in front of you. “A-Ah… please don’t hurt me…”

Rintarou could feel a stinging pain in his heart, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. To think you could be scared of him when you were once quick to hold his hand or hug him… But he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised and that he would have to rebuild the relationship from scratch.

He hopped onto the engawa and sat beside you on his hindlegs, golden eyes staring at you before bowing his head lightly to show that he meant no harm.

“Ah… You’re nice, aren’t you?” you mumbled and reached out a cold hand to carefully stroke his head. To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at all. In fact, he leaned into your hand with a little whine.

You continued to stroke his soft fur. The warmth from the fox was warming your cold hands, making the action strangely therapeutic.

“This is really weird but…” You suddenly spoke, making Rintarou look up in surprise to hear your voice sounding almost exactly like it had years ago. “You make me feel better. I feel like I can talk to you.” A sad smile formed on your lips as tears began to well up again.

The fox raised its paw, as if it wanted to wipe away your tears but quickly put down its leg and settled with just rubbing its head against your side. You had to smile a little more at that - this fox seemed to understand you.

“If you don’t mind, I want to talk a bit,” you say, and the fox silently looks up at you again, “I didn’t want to come here. My family… my family is really far away. No, they were far away. We were craftsmen and merchants and it was okay. Then the daimyo asked all the men to fight his stupid war.

“Dad had to go… and then later nii-chan did. Mom, nee-chan, and my little brother were all left on the farm. One day, a man came to the house and mom started crying. I knew what happened to dad and nii-chan.”

Recounting the harsh memories caused little droplets to fall from your face, temporarily illuminated by the soft moonlight before dampening your kimono. Your breath was becoming a bit heavier and the way your chest jumped with nearly every breath told Rintarou how painful it was.

“Mom… she was so sad. And then one day, I was out with granny to the forest to forage for some ingredients. Nee-chan couldn’t go because she had to help out in the shop. When we came back a week later, the village was burnt to the ground. It was so quiet.”

You could recall the only sound being the howling wind blowing through the broken and burnt remains of the village. No pretty glass wind chimes, no laughter from the tavern, no children running freely. Just the wind and the sound of snow crunching under your feet.

“B- But… obaa-san couldn’t take care of me. She’s getting old and wouldn’t live much longer. She said there’s a safe shrine and she used to be friends with a miko so she took me here. It was one week of walking and it was really painful but now I’m here. Then they said that I have to become a shrine maiden. My training hasn’t started yet but it will someday.”

The loose thread on your kimono sleeve had become longer as you fiddled with it while talking. “A-Anyways, I never really believed in the gods that much but I guess I have to start doing it now right?” You tried to laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

In reply, Rintarou pressed his forehead against your arm. A quiet way of saying he would stay with you.

He didn’t know if you wanted or even needed his protection, but he would give it to you. He knew that the training for becoming a shrine maiden was difficult, even painful at times. And he had already decided he wouldn’t let harm come to you anymore. Even if you didn’t know him anymore, or even if you weren’t the same soul, he would protect you.

The fox’s ears twitched as he heard footsteps pat their way on the wooden flooring of the house. Knowing it had to be one of the other shrine maidens, he quickly sprinted away from you. He didn’t need them to explicitly know of his existence.

“Y/N-chan, what are you doing out here? It’s cold and you must be hungry! Come sit inside by the fire. Ami-senpai made some matcha and we have some soba,” one of the shrine maidens insisted.

“I was talk- I was looking at the moon.” You changed your answer upon realising it must be strange to say you were talking to a fox, though your gaze lingered on the little pawprints in the snow.

“The moon, huh?” The older girl looked at the sky and nodded, “Indeed. It’s beautiful, but it can wait unlike our soba!”

She quickly ushered you inside, away from the cold and unintentionally from Rintarou’s gaze.

He had transformed back to his human form, finding it more comfortable. His face remained neutral as he looked up at the moon, wondering what he could do for you.

The next morning, you woke up and rubbed your eyes. The sunlight was shining through the paper doors and you noticed the other shrine maidens were still asleep. Perhaps it was because they had stayed up a little later than you did to wash the cutlery and clean around the fireplace.

You pushed back the blanket and quietly folded your futon. Maybe you’d go sweep the front of the shrine and remove the snow. The maidens were nice and you knew they had plenty of duties so it would be good to help out at least a little.

The air was cold from the night’s winter breeze but at least the sun was starting to melt the ice just a little. You breathed on your hands in an attempt to warm them up as you carefully slid open the paper doors separating the room and the open hallway. To your surprise, there was a little parcel right outside.

On top of a piece of scrap cloth sat a little bundle of berries and a few small mikan fruits. You cocked your head, wondering where they could have come from until you saw a few strands of fur laying beside them.

Dark brown, just like the fox from last night.

And if you looked carefully, there were little paw prints leading to the forest beside the shrine.

You wondered if he could’ve been a guardian spirit and smiled to yourself at the funny thought. Anything could happen these days.

You then wrapped up the fruit, deciding to share it with the other girls for a sweet breakfast or for a snack later and reentered the room.

Rintarou watched from atop a tree branch, his narrow eyes hoping you had noticed the little clues he had left for you. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your smile was enough to please him. It was certainly nicer than your tear stained face which he hoped he would never have to see again.

With ever quiet footsteps, Rintarou hopped off the tree and began walking back to the den where the other foxes lived.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Several moons had passed.

Since that day, Rintarou could not gather the courage to speak to you. All he would do was lay on his regular spot on the rooftop and occasionally eavesdrop on the shrine staff if he felt like it to make sure you were alright. You seemed to be adjusting quickly, helping out with minor tasks and cleaning up around the shrine in order to get on the shrine maidens’ good side. It seemed to work, and he was relieved for you.

On certain days when you were asked to go into the forest and pick flowers or fruit, he would subtly guide you in the direction of better fruit or block a path to poisonous berries. He would also scare off wild animals to keep you safe.

While doing this, Rintarou wished he could talk to you directly again, but he knew there was the risk that you would be scared and it would make your many years at the shrine hell-like.

“What do you think?” he asked Osamu one day while the rain of June fell outside their den - a little hut that Shinsuke had built a long time ago with the other kitsune who lived here before they moved away and before the three younger foxes had come about.

“What do I think? You kinda sound like a weirdo,” his fellow kitsune replied while taking a bite from his onigiri he had made for himself. Rintarou frowned and crossed his arms, silently asking “What do you mean?”

Osamu finished up his rice ball and looked at his friend, “Yer always just watchin’ the poor girl. If you were a human you’d probably wanna protect her from yer weird self. Just talk to her. If she gets freaked, that sucks but it ain’t the end of the world.”

Rintarou drummed his fingers against his bicep, knowing his friend did have a point. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

Which was the reason why one month later he was standing by the torii watching you reach up in an awkward attempt to light the lanterns around the shrine.

Tonight was the summer festival.

Although the war still raged on, knowing they could still hold the festival every year was a sort of blessing to the population. Being under one of the more powerful lords, their region lived in relative peace and prosperity.

And to Rintarou, it brought both wonderful and painful memories.

He took in a deep breath and walked over to you who stood on your tiptoes in an attempt to light a lantern. He noticed that though you were taller, you were still a little short for now. As for him, he practically towered over you with how he had grown in his unfinished ‘adolescent years’.

“Let me help you.” He spoke in his quiet voice, making you jump and almost drop the candle you were holding.

“H-Hold on, who are- s-sorry, could I ask who you may be?” you changed your speech to be more polite as you realised this mysterious man could be a visitor to the shrine. Your grandma had emphasised to you to be kind to strangers, and the shrine maidens made sure you knew of that rule even more when it came to shrine visitors.

Rintarou realised that he must have surprised you with the way his feet barely made a sound as he walked to you.

“I’m Rintarou. Do you want me to help? You look like you’re having a little trouble,” he asked, holding out a hand for you to place the candle into.

However, you just shrank away and shook your head, holding the candle as close to yourself as you would dare. “I’m not familiar with you. We’re still making preparations around the shrine for today’s festival so…” You furrowed your brow as you saw something swish behind the man.

As discreetly as a curious young teen could, you took a glance at what was behind him and almost dropped your candle with a squeak upon seeing three long tails swaying.

“N-No way, you’re a kitsune? You’re real?” Your face was pale with fear but your eyes were wide with amazement. Then you remembered the tales you had read about the spirits, both the good and bad.

“You’re not… you’re not going to play a trick on me are you? Oh wait, no, you must be one of Inari-sama’s servants! Oh gosh, I’m so sorry for treating you weirdly!” You were beginning to panic at the idea that you might have just been rude to a celestial being.

“Ah, I mean that’s true but I don’t really care about those things,” Rintarou shrugged, “Do you remember me though?” It was a long shot but worth a try.

“Remember?” You cocked your head in confusion. Was there something you were supposed to remember?

The kitsune was somewhat disappointed that you could not remember him from long ago, but he was already preparing for that. It hurt, but it was a bearable pain.

Then he remembered, he had appeared to you on your first night as a fox. With a snap of his fingers and a puff of smoke, he felt his body become smaller. The transformation was never very enjoyable but once the smoke had cleared, you gasped upon seeing a little dark brown fox with golden eyes in front of you.

“You’re the fox from that night! When I first came! But you had one tail that time…” you crossed your arms, slightly unconvinced. What if this kitsune wasn’t a zenko but a yako? A mischievous spirit looking to cause harm?

Just as you blinked, two of his tails had suddenly disappeared. He was exactly like that fox from that winter night you arrived.

“Oh… It really was you.”

“Of course it was,” Rintarou spoke and with another puff of smoke returned to his human form. Tall and handsome in his black yukata with red accents and a red obi, though this time with his ears on display too. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“That implies you would lie about other things. Aren’t you supposed to be good since you work for Inari-sama?” You grinned cheekily at his words.

Rintarou narrowed his eyes in reply before crossing his arms, “Well. You’re supposed to be working for him soon too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You squinted at the older teenage boy.

“You’re not lighting the lanterns.”

“Oh! You’re right!” You ran to the next lantern and tiptoed to reach the paper lantern while wondering who on earth decided to hang all the paper lanterns for the festival so high.

Rintarou watched from a few feet away, arms still crossed at your unsuccessful attempt to light the lantern. After about a minute of watching you jump around and almost dropping your candle about three times, he walked over, “Do you need help? This one’s taller than the rest.”

You looked up at him and his height before a bashful pink creeped up your cheeks.

“Y-Yeah… And could you help with the others…”

With a little chuckle, the kitsune took the candle from your hand and began lighting the paper lanterns with ease. As you two walked around the shrine grounds to light the lanterns, you became curious of him.

“How long have you been a kitsune?” You asked.

“I think… two centuries? I don’t count these days,” Rintarou replied.

“Eh… What do you do as a zenko? Is it fun?”

“Mm… I deliver prayers and make sure no evil spirits come to the shrine. Also, I sleep a lot.”

“Wow… that sounds nice! I wish I could be a kitsune too!”

Rintarou’s breath stopped for a second. He had wished that for you too. If only you could have been a kitsune when you first met… you would have been with the four of them.

“Yeah… It’s nice. But it’s got its downsides,” he said and lit another lantern.

He noticed the confused look on your face. After all, how could there be downsides to being practically immortal and to having magical powers?

There were too many things he wanted to say; from the way he had to witness too many horrible things in the history of this war torn land to the way the changing of seasons was no longer special to him - it was just another way to show time passed.

But most of all, it was the fact that time passed ever so slowly for him.

He couldn’t count how many times he had had to witness the coming and going of the animals and flowers in the forest, of the people at the shrine, and most importantly ‘your’ coming and going.

But how could he tell you all of this? He certainly didn’t want to ruin your night.

“You just get bored after a while since everything’s a bit repetitive,” Rintarou shrugged while lighting a lantern. He returned the candle to your hand, expression ever unchanging. “We’re done with everything. Are you going to the festival after this?”

“Thanks, Rintarou-san!” The kitsune cringed at the way you called him ‘-san’ rather than with ‘-kun’ or ‘RinRin’ like Shinsuke or the twins would. It really had been a while since he talked to anyone else. “Mm, the shrine maiden onee-sans said I have to help out for three hours, then I get free time to go to the festival!” You grinned.

“Ah. That’s good.” He replied.

A short silence followed, the two of you unsure what to say or do now. The cicada’s buzzing was getting louder and Rintarou’s expression remained calm as he stared at you with his narrow eyes. His stare was so intense that it felt like he was looking right into your soul.

“Rintarou-s”

“-kun. You don’t have to say ‘-san’.”

You cocked your head in confusion, “But you’re a zenko. If anything it should be with ‘-sama’,” you said.

“I’m okay with it. More importantly, I wanted to ask you if you want to spend that free time in the festival with me? There’s something I want to show you, I think you’d love it.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Sure, but what is it? I’m not gonna follow you to the spirit world if that’s what you wanna do.”

Rintarou scrunched his nose at the thought. He went there all the time, it wasn’t special at all. And he knew you wouldn’t enjoy it much (it was more weird in his opinion than special.) “No, but it’s a surprise.”

You cocked your head, wondering what on earth he could be referring to. But you sensed no malice from him and he genuinely just seemed like he had good intentions, so you nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you at the back of the shrine in three hours then.” You flashed a toothy smile at him too and he smiled softly in return.

“I’ll see you there.”

Time seemed to pass in the smallest increments as Rintarou walked around the festival with the twins and Shinsuke. Not only was waiting for you taking an excruciatingly long time, but all the attention they were receiving was becoming tiring.

As they practically towered over everyone around them, they just stood out in the crowd too much. Even Shinsuke was taller than everyone. Though, Rintarou noticed that people were taller than the average height a hundred years ago and he wondered if the average height would continue to grow. He hoped that would happen so it wouldn’t be so troublesome in the future for them.

Because as flattering as receiving marriage offers from various women trying to find suitable son-in-laws was, it was getting a little annoying and Rintarou was not interested in marrying anyone. Atsumu cheekily accepted one or two but a quick knock on the head from Shinsuke reminded him to keep his mouth shut.

So when the three hours had passed and you were finally able to leave your duties taking care of selling charms at the shrine, you were somewhat surprised to see Rintarou looking almost eager to meet with you.

“How long were you waiting for?” You asked, having to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Not a long time,” He shrugged as if he didn’t come to the meeting spot almost twenty minutes ago. “Anyways, should we head to our destination? We don’t have much time.”

You nodded and followed behind him into the forest. Even if it was strange to be following someone you barely knew, it was like there was something deep in you that said ‘You can trust him.’

Rintarou’s tails swished behind him as you two walked, almost tickling your nose with how close it was to you, though you knew to not touch it lest you wanted to cause an accident. You noticed how you could only clearly hear your footsteps - the kitsune’s were so gentle that they made no more than a light brushing against the grass.

It really was strange, following a spirit into the forest.

A couple of minutes later, he stopped walking. “Here we are,” He stepped to the side and allowed you to take in the beautiful sight of a glade. It felt like a scene you could only see in a dream. In fact, it gave a strange feeling of deja vu, like you had seen this sight in an old dream.

“What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty that my chest feels funny,” you replied, causing Rintarou to chuckle lightly.

“This place makes my chest feel funny too,” He said and brushed off a wisteria petal that fell onto your head, “Come on, it gets even better.”

He then guided you to the boulder and helped you climb on top of it. As you sat with your knees hugged to your chest, staring up at the dark night sky, you smiled to yourself. It really was a nice place, and Rintarou really was a nice person.

A sudden flame shot up into the sky and burst, followed by a loud bang seconds later. Soon, more lights followed the initial one, exploding with their own timings while loud claps and bangs followed mere seconds after. The night sky was repeatedly illuminated with vibrant colours and you could only stare in awe.

For many years, Rintarou had watched this sight alone, but now he had you again. Though your relationship was different and he didn’t even know if you were the same person, he didn’t care. Your company now was good enough for him. Filled with nostalgia, the teen couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he watched the last light fade away, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.

“The fireworks at my old village were never this pretty,” You spoke softly after a few moments of silence, “They were pretty of course, but never this beautiful.”

“Well this region has some pretty important shoguns so we’ve got a little more access to money for festivities these days,” Rintarou explained, though he personally felt it was prettier because he had a friend to watch the show with.

A friendship that possibly transcended a lifetime, huh…

“This place is really pretty in the sunset too. And the sunrise. And in the afternoon actually.” His words made you giggle.

“So, this place is pretty all day?” you asked.

Rintarou realised how awkward his description was and nodded slowly. “Yeah… You should come see it. I’ll bring you so you don’t have to worry about getting lost and such.”

“Sure!” Your bright smile was illuminated by the remaining fireflies and yet it also illuminated the dark space around you two. Rintarou smiled back and ruffled your hair lightly.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he started as you pouted and rearranged your hair, “There’s plenty of other nice places here too. I think you’d love them.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Months passed, and as the green leaves faded into shades of warm oranges, reds, and yellows, you two would spend the cooling autumn afternoons crossing creeks, eating juicy berries you would find, and sometimes just sitting in a quiet place to chat, eat, or read. Though the library in the shrine wasn’t massive, it held some interesting folktales and old journals.

The shrine maidens did enquire once in a while but you figured they wouldn’t believe you if you said you went to spend time with a group of kitsune. You wondered if it was bad to lie and say that you liked reading in the forest and gathering the fruits of fall, but you did so anyways. It wasn’t a complete lie after all.

You enjoyed the time you spent with Rintarou - he was fun to talk to and when Atsumu and Osamu would come to spend time with you two, the afternoon was always filled with laughter. Shinsuke was interesting to talk to too, he was knowledgeable about nearly anything and you were convinced at times that he was Inari themselves (though he was quick to tell you he was just another kitsune like the three).

The seasons seemed to pass too quickly though, for before you knew it the golden leaves began to fall and became buried under layers of snow and ice. You were no longer allowed to leave the shrine as often, seeing as it was dangerous and cold. Because of that, you couldn’t talk to the foxes as much as before, but you appreciated them trying to visit once in a while.

Still, the cold wind and frost threatening to freeze your fingertips and cheeks brought back terrible memories and their limited visits weren’t always enough to keep you warm all the time.

At times in the middle of the winter nights, you would suddenly wake up from the sound of a particularly strong wind blowing, rattling the shutters and rustling the crackling branches of the trees nearby. No matter how you hugged the blanket to yourself, you never felt completely fine until you’d quietly exit the room and sit on the engawa just like you had roughly a year ago, watching the moon.

“Can’t sleep?” The familiar voice spoke with a little chuckle. You looked to your side and saw Rintarou sitting beside you.

“When did you get there?” You asked, hugging your knees to your chest and looking at the nearly spotless layer of snow before you.

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t seem too good though,” he said, looking at your smaller form.

“Yeah. I don’t feel too great,” you mumbled, “I just remember… that day a lot these days. And… the shrine maidens told me something.” You rested your chin on your knees.

Rintarou noticed the way your fingers dug into the thick cloth of your kimono, as if you were trying to endure an invisible pain. He cocked his head, “What did they tell you?”

“I have to start training to become a miko once spring comes. And it’s really scary… I mean, I think you’ve seen it before. All the onee-sans are always really tired and they have to do these terrifying rituals and sometimes… I’m not dumb. I know what happens in the spare room with visitors. It’s one of the only ways we get money anymore.” You could feel a lump welling up in your throat.

Rintarou noticed it too. The way your breath became shakier the more you thought about it, thinking about the times you overheard the older miko talking to each other about their past experiences, and the way your sniffles were not because of the cold air but because you were trying to hold back tears.

“I read the old journals and I don’t want to become a miko. I’m scared, Rintarou.” You cried softly and held onto his sleeve, trying to hold your breath to prevent your wails from escaping your throat. But you began hiccupping and panicking even more, worried that the others would hear you.

Rintarou was quick to pull you close to himself, large hands carefully stroking your hair in an attempt to calm you.

He had no idea what to say. The thought terrified him too, to think that you didn’t get to choose this path yet you were stuck on it. The only thing that could come to mind for him to say was,

“I’ll protect you.”

Your hiccupping stopped as you looked up at him.

“Huh?”

“I won’t let you get hurt by evil spirits or allow harm to come to you. Officially, I’m just a messenger but I think my powers exceed just that,” Rintarou looked into your teary eyes as he spoke, a small smile on his lips as he continued to stroke your hair, “You don’t doubt me, do you?”

“No, I don’t…” Your choked voice replied, though it and your body were both noticeably calmer.

“Yeah. So don’t worry. I’m still here and I’ll always be here for you.”

You look into his golden eyes for a minute, searching for any deception you doubted he would hold towards you. Your grip tightened on his clothes and you finally let your head fall against his chest. “I trust you.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

As the years went by, Rintarou kept his promise. Every time he knew a spirit would come to possess you, he would warn it to not cause harm. Whenever your training involved the cold, he would help warm you up with his fire. And whenever you felt like it was getting too difficult, he would come to your side and encourage you to continue.

He was proud to know that your skill in talking to spirits (with some of his help) made you recognised as one of the best miko at the shrine.

But today, Rintarou finds himself seated upon the roof once again. It was a special day today - you would perform the kagura dance on this fine afternoon among the falling cherry blossoms to show off the cultivation of your years of effort.

On his left sat Shinsuke, and to the left of the older kitsune sat the twins. All four of them were eager to see the culmination of your efforts, and were curious to see how Inari would take it. They would be coming down today after all, and possibly entering your form.

The four watched as you carefully took your position on the platform in your pure white robes. If he wasn’t mistaken, you looked up at him for a moment before your powdered face returned to its calm and emotionless state. You then picked up the kagura suzu, a wand with bells for the ceremony, and held it firmly yet carefully. It jingled quietly with your subtle movement, though it became louder as you rattled it and signalled for your fellow miko to begin playing their instruments.

Rintarou narrowed his eyes as he watched the way your feet took little steps, slowly moving around the platform just as you practiced. Though it wasn’t the first time he had seen it, for some reason he thought you looked absolutely amazing today.

Your hair was done beautifully and the movements your body made were simple yet stunning. The look of serenity on your face was something else too. Though it was funny to hear coming from a celestial being such as him, he thought you looked ethereal.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t be falling for a human, much less a shrine maiden.

A cold breeze blew through the shrine grounds and your body tensed up midway through your dance.

Inari had descended.

Instinctively, Rintarou stood to his feet to protect you and calm you, but Shinsuke grabbed his wrist roughly. “She knows what she’s doing. You’ve watched her practice. Inari-sama won’t harm her,” he said, and the brunet sat back down.

Your once gentle movements had become wild and loud, as you leaped about the platform possessed by Inari. Though this was a special moment for you, Rintarou could only feel a strange feeling in his chest.

Was it worry? Jealousy? But it felt stronger than that. He couldn’t understand it and could only continue to watch your performance in silence but also with a warm feeling in his heart.

That night, you decided to sit out on the engawa and watch the moon once again. It felt like a good night as the ceremony in the morning was a success and the current weather was not too warm yet not too cold. Of course, you never watched the moon alone, though you didn’t even have to ask if your regular partner would care to sit with you because when you slid open the door, Rintarou was already there.

“You did well today,” he spoke up and shifted slightly to make space for you on the engawa.

“Thank you. The other maidens said the same,” you replied quietly as you sat beside him, “And I saw you four sitting on the roof today. Do kitsune find the kagura entertaining too?” Though the ceremony was originally intended to be entertainment for the gods, no one could deny that in recent years, many people found it interesting themselves.

“We’ve seen many kagura performances in our many years of living so… it’s not particularly entertaining anymore,” Rintarou shrugged.

“Then…” you narrowed your eyes and leaned in close, “My performance was boring?”

The kitsune realised what he had said and his eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. It was good,” he quickly spoke.

“Good, but boring?”

“It wasn’t boring… I enjoyed watching it and I thought you looked-”

“I’m just teasing you, Rin. You always tease me so I thought I should do the same to you someday.” You giggled and averted your gaze up to the moon. Rintarou looked down at you in surprise but smiled softly.

Moments like these were frequent - the two of you would sit on the engawa at night and watch the clouds drift by, occasionally concealing the moon before allowing it to shine once more. But tonight, the kitsune didn’t feel like looking at it. Instead, he felt like it was outshone by your beauty.

“It’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?” You suddenly spoke up, smiling at the sky. “I wish we could sit here forever to watch it.”

Rintarou glanced towards the sky for a moment but his gaze returned to you within the second. “Yeah. That would be nice. It’s really pretty,” he said before mumbling under his breath, “You’re really pretty.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

The following summer, Rintarou waited in the forest as he usually did. Though it wasn’t too deep in, it was far enough that one couldn’t find him easily without knowing the correct path to take, weaving between trees and crossing over large roots. Of course, it was a path you knew all too well.

Hearing the sound of leaves and dirt crunching alongside laboured breaths, Rintarou looked up to see you smiling at him tiredly.

“Working as a shrine maiden ain’t all that fun is it?” He asked with a light chuckle as he passed you a still warm taiyaki wrapped in a small handkerchief, “Here, eat up.”

You nodded and took the taiyaki before following the spirit up the mountain as you always did. It became quieter the further you two walked into the forest, though it was a strange quiet. Unlike the silences you two often shared, today’s one felt different. Like you were waiting for something.

Perhaps it was the fact that this was your first proper break in a long time - your new position as a shrine maiden did take up a lot of time. Or the anticipation of this year’s fireworks, which were supposed to be bigger than ever due to the shogun finally winning the battle against his biggest enemy. You weren’t sure, but it felt like your heart was beating stronger than it usually did.

So far deep in your thoughts and snack, you didn’t realise a new root had grown on the path in the time you hadn’t visited the glade.

With a squeak, you found yourself bracing for the impact you would surely feel once you hit the ground but- it didn’t come. Instead you felt a cool but warm body.

“Don’t go getting injured on me,” Rintarou warned and helped you stand up properly.

“Oh, you know that’s not my intention.” You laughed and took a bite of your taiyaki. “Plus, you’d nurse me back to health right? Just like that one time?”

“I feel like I’m cheating,” you admitted one day while laying in your futon. Rintarou sat beside you, flipping through an old folklore book left behind by a visitor.

“Hm? Why’s that?” he asks as he put down the book to look at you. He carefully poured out a cup of hot tea for you and helped you sit up to drink it. This was one of the rare times you got to spend a lot of time alone and though you were unwell during it, he would use every second of this time to be with you.

“The other miko don’t have a spirit helping them. When they get sick from training they have to take care of themselves. And when they have to speak with spirits for training, no one can give them tips or frighten off the bad spirits,” you mumble, your voice slightly muffled by the thick blanket which was pulled up to the tip of your nose.

“If you want, I can ask Atsumu or Osamu to take care of them. They wouldn’t mind for sure.”

“Oh… no, don’t bother them.” You coughed and rolled onto your side to look at Rintarou, “They’ve probably got a lot of duties already.”

“But it’s no different from me helping you out, is it?” He pointed out.

“But you chose to do this… If you wanna stop, you can too, ya know. It’s fine with me.” You sighed quietly and furrowed your brow. Even though you had just suggested it, you felt sad at the thought of your best friend leaving your side. It wouldn’t be like you’d never see him again, you’d just see him less.

And yet… the thought of that hurt.

“You don’t actually want that. I can tell,” Rintarou chuckled and helped push away a few sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, “And neither do I.”

You pouted under the blanket, knowing he was right. And he knew he was right too. “Still…” you mumble, “You don’t have to take care of me to this extent.”

Rintarou shook his head and leaned close to you. He could practically feel the heat emanating from your forehead but he ignored it along with the way you shrank further into the futon. “You can’t stop me from doing what I wanna do,” he said and pressed his lips to your forehead.

It’s only a small act of affection, a show of protection from a spirit to a human. Yet you suddenly felt like your temperature had increased a couple degrees and a strange feeling had erupted in your chest. It was such a frustrating yet loving feeling, you wanted to experience it more and yet you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

When Rintarou pulled away and sat up straight again with his legs crossed, he rested his head in his palm, elbow propped up in his lap, and looked down at you with a sort of endearing yet sneaky smile. “So let me take care of you, Y/N.” His gentle voice spoke.

You nodded quietly and closed your eyes to return to sleep, though just before you did, you mumbled a small, “Thank you, Rin.”

“I don’t recall.” He shrugged as he pushed back a wisteria branch and waited for you to pass. Just thinking about how he was trying to be cool by giving you a forehead kiss was enough to fill his body with the overwhelming need to hide under a rock for the next century. Thankfully, you were extremely drowsy while sick so you probably didn’t remember...

“You liar! You were giving me tea and putting the towel on my head and- there was a forehead kiss!”

Looks like you didn’t forget and Rintarou would have to find a giant boulder very soon.

“Who knew a zenko serving Inari-sama would believe in kisses to help heal sickness?!” You teased and reached up to poke his forehead, though he easily dodged it and you only laughed more.

“You’re annoying.” He sighed as you two waded your way through the tall grass of the glade.

“But you still haven’t left me.” You giggled as you awkwardly climbed up the rock before sitting on top of it.

He had to admit you did have a point. Throughout the years, he never left your side. And thinking about it, you never left his either. Even though decades had passed, longer than you could even remember, you always returned to his side.

The thought had him smiling softly before he nodded, “I suppose you have a point there. Now come, the fireworks should start soon. I heard they have a new one, created by some craftsmen from the north.”

You gasped in reply, “Really? I can’t wait to-”

A light flew into the sky, bursting into a bright yellow flower before a loud BOOM sounded a second later.

“It’s starting! We really made it just in time, huh?” You grinned at the brunet before looking up at the sky once again.

Even if you saw the sight every year, sometimes more than once a year, it was still beautiful. But what made it truly beautiful was the kitsune beside you.

No words had to be exchanged, yet his mere presence was enough to fill your heart with a warm feeling.

“Rintarou…” You called his name quietly while the fireworks continued to burst their way into the sky.

The kitsune looked over at you, wondering what you would say.

“I want to spend every year like this with you. Every summer festival, let’s watch the fireworks together. And every Tanabata, let’s make the same wish. Oh and every New Year’s, I’d like to eat mochi with you,” the words spilled from your mouth without you thinking.

Rintarou blinked owlishly at you for a second before he began laughing, his arms folded over his stomach in a bad attempt to make himself stop before he broke his cool too far.

“H-Hey! What’s so funny?” You whine, hitting his arm lightly.

“N-Nothing, it just…” He took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, though he still looked at you with a small smirk on his face. “It just sounds like a marriage proposal.”

Upon hearing that, your eyes widened and your cheeks turned red. A marriage proposal? That sort of thing could never come from you! With your duties to Inari, there was no way that you could ever get married, especially not to a spirit like him!

“Y-You’re imagining things! I just said I like spending time with you!” You insisted, tearing your gaze away from the spirit sitting beside you. Though… you had to admit, there was more than one occasion where you wondered if the two of you could have gotten married in another life.

In a different life, where you two were free to meet and fall in love, to court and engage in the beautiful ceremony of marriage… You both knew you would have chosen each other.

“Even if it was a proposal- and an accidental one at that, it’s not like we could get married. We’re both busy with our duties and you could probably find a more beautiful wife. The yuki onna that lives on the mountain in the winter is a good choice.” You joked, though it hurt a little to think of Rintarou choosing her.

“That woman? She’s still around? I thought Shin-senpai chased her off the mountain three years ago for causing violence on the grounds,” he frowned.

“Um… well she… or another one came back last winter, though she left already,” you tried to recall.

“Good riddance. Anyways, I wouldn’t choose her as a wife. Even if we were both human,” he shrugged before turning to you, “After all, why would I when I already have someone I want to marry right in front of me?”

The moment your eyes locked, a loud explosion burst and echoed in the silence that followed. The sky was reduced to its dark colours, any stars dotting it blanketed by the smoke.

“You’re just saying that,” you mumbled and quickly turned away, “it’s not good to joke about such important matters.”

Rintarou frowned and scooted a little closer to you to ask, “Why do you think I’m joking?”

Your gaze stayed fixed on the grass surrounding the boulder, “Because we can’t get married. You’re a kitsune and I’m a human. Not to mention we have our own duties.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not serious when I say I want to marry you.” He gently cupped your face with his cool hand and brought it to look at his.

As your eyes met, you wondered if the gold in his eyes always looked so beautiful. The sharpness of his features were more mesmerizing than ever, and you were so badly tempted to just lean in and-

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was more alluring than ever.

“What if Inari-sama gets mad at you for defiling one of their shrine maidens?” you asked with a little grin on your face, making Rintarou playfully roll his eyes.

“I’ll deal with that later,” he says and leans forward, taking your lips with his own.

The moment you made contact, the sky was lit once again with bright colours. Though for once, both of you didn’t look at it. Instead, your eyelids slowly shut as you leaned into Rintaoru’s kiss.

Though his skin was cool, the kiss felt hot. Too hot to handle - like a strange fire was spreading throughout your entire being starting from your heart and lips, and even burning the tips of your fingers and toes. You had never read about it before, let alone experienced it, but you liked it and wanted more of it.

Was this what being in love was supposed to be like?

As the two of you kissed, the fireworks continued to colour the night sky, unnoticed by you. To the two of you, nothing else existed right now.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many more summers passed. Every year upon completing your shrine duties on the summer festival, you would don a wooden kitsune mask and run into the forest to find your lover waiting for you with a matching mask and a small packet of food to share.

“Don’t you find it weird to have matching masks?” you asked with a giggle one winter night as you hiked hand in hand up the winding mountain trail.

“Perhaps. But it’d be worse if someone saw the beloved seer and shrine maiden running into the forest with a man, wouldn’t it?” Rintarou asked.

“I suppose so. Would be horrible for business, wouldn’t it?” you replied with a laugh.

“Exactly,” he ruffled your hair.

Though the summer festival was always the highlight of the year for you, it wasn’t as if you two didn’t meet at other times.

Spring was spent watching the blooming cherry blossoms together while eating small snacks, autumn was spent collecting fruits and sewing new kimonos to wear, and winter was spent drinking hot barley tea by the fire with the other kitsune. When the other shrine maidens asked where you would disappear off to for hours, you would simply smile and say, “I’m just checking in on the spirits around the mountain.”

Tonight as you walked hand-in-hand with Rintarou to the glade once again, he noticed the way you were walking a little slower than usual. He realised it wasn’t the first time either - these days he found himself slowing himself down to match your pace more and more often.

“Did something happen recently?” he asked, removing his mask and hanging it on his hip as he knew you were both out of view and earshot of any humans. He then carefully took your mask as well.

You shook your head. “Nothing’s really happened lately, why do you ask?”

Rintarou furrowed his brow but nodded. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“You’re making a funny face,” you giggled, “But no, nothing special’s been happening these days. Oh, I was offered a position of priestess but I said I’d rather stay as a shrine maiden.”

“Is that so? Congratulations, though. The offer alone is good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is! But at the same time, I don’t feel like taking it. I’m happy with how things are, and I think Kiyoko-senpai at the shrine is way more suited to becoming the priestess than I am,” you smiled, “I just like helping around where I can and then going to see you when I can.”

Rintarou blinked in surprise but a small smile came to his face as he leaned forward and gave you a soft kiss. “I love seeing you too,” he hummed when he pulled away, hands moving to gently cup your face which looked small in his large hands, “And I’m glad that I can be here for the rest of your life too.”

He pressed his cool forehead to yours and you giggled at the feeling. Just like that night over fifteen years ago, you felt his coolness and a warmth. He was just wonderful. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck and pulled him closer for another kiss. Though the cold wind of winter blew around you, and the falling snow threatened to pile up on your feet, the kiss still felt incredibly hot. Perhaps it was partially due to Rintarou warming you with his own magic, but you felt like you could stay like this forever with him.

Eventually, he pulled away with a little cloud of vapour leaving both your lips. His nose crinkled just a little as he chuckled at the sight of your flushed face. “You look absolutely adorable,” he said and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear before noticing something he wished he hadn’t.

“As much as I’d love to get more kisses from you, Rin, I’d rather we get to your den and sit at the fire that Shinsuke has definitely prepared already,” you teased.

“Right, right.” He nodded and took your hand once again, leading you to the den even if you had known the path from visiting hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

As the two of you walked, muscle memory leading the way, Rintarou thought about the thing he noticed - the fact that your hair had changed colour.

It wasn’t something he had never seen before, he had seen plenty of the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens grow old before. Yet somehow it became so much heavier when he realised the same thing was happening to you. Your steps were slower, he could find grey strands, and when you smiled, the creases by your eyes seemed deeper than before.

He knew about this. He once watched you grow up before his very eyes and get married to another man while he still lived in the body of a child. He anticipated the fact that someday, you would leave the earth and him, but he didn’t think it would hit so suddenly and painfully.

With his free hand, Rintarou gently touched the soft skin of his face and took in a deep breath, realising that it was happening.

“Rintarou, did something happen?” you asked, noticing he had something on his mind.

The kitsune turned to you and shook his head before kissing your forehead. “No, nothing’s wrong, Y/N.” He smiled.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Y/N, you have to let me heal you.”

“For the last time, Rintarou, I said no!” you cried and pushed him away with what strength you could muster. Though you had gained a lot working for the shrine for so many years, your old age was finally catching up to you.

A cold wind blew and though the doors to the shrine were closed, a small draft sent a shiver through your old bones. With bony hands, you pulled the futon’s blanket higher on you and laid down. “Please… just don’t.”

It was such a painful sight, to see you slowly succumbing to nature’s will. No matter how many times Rintarou insisted on using his healing to keep you healthy enough to live a long life, you always refused it.

“Please, just give me some time,” you spoke quietly.

The kitsune bit his lip before nodding. As much as he wanted to spend whatever time he could with you, he respected your wishes and left the room to work on his own duties.

As you laid in the futon, you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to tell you didn’t have much time left. At the moment, you couldn’t remember how long you had lived for but if your greying head, wrinkles, and frail body were anything to go by, it was a long time.

“Isn’t it so funny… to see Rintarou in love with an old hag like me?” you asked quietly.

“Not particularly.” A certain voice spoke. You turned your head to see Shinsuke had entered the room and took a seat by you. “We’ve gotten used to you over the many years, ya know?”

“He keeps insisting to take away my sickness and make me younger. I don’t even know if his magic can do that.” You sighed.

“I’m not really sure about it either but in the end it’s yer choice. He can’t force ya to accept any treatment and neither do I think he would,” he shrugged, “But I’ve noticed you’ve been pushin’ him away a lot recently. The boy- the guy comes back all moody and stuff almost everyday.” He still had a little habit of calling him a boy ever since meeting the three foxes.

“Hah… is that so?” you laughed quietly before coughing loudly, “I just don’t want him to be sad when I… you know. Because I know I have to go soon. And this illness in the winter doesn’t help.”

Shinsuke stayed quiet.

“I wonder if he knows how much I love him. I wonder if he’ll begin to hate me these days. In the end of my years I was always just a trouble to him,” you smile sadly, “He had to carry me to visit you guys, and helped me with so many chores. When we went to watch the fireworks every year, he would also have to pause for me on our walk up, and we even missed it once because I walked so slowly! The following years he would carry me up though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that memory despite the tears forming in your eyes.

“I wonder if Rin found me a burden,” you continued, “I wanted to do so much for him. Make him snacks or give him books or… I don’t know, just put a smile on his face. But he was always the one doing things for me.”

By the end of your short monologue, your pillow had become soaked with tears. Your body shook slightly, both from the cold and from your sobs.

“I think…” Shinsuke started, “Rintarou loved you just as much. He always came back with a small smile on his face. Whether it was the summer festival nights, or simply sharing a cup of matcha with you in the winter, I believe he thoroughly enjoyed it all.”

“R-Really?” You looked up at the kitsune with puffy eyes.

“I would not lie.” He smiled in reply.

You smiled back softly, relieved to know your ‘husband’ felt that way about you. “Thank you for telling me, Shinsuke. I would- oh!” you exclaimed as you remembered something, “On that table there. There are five books. Can you bring them?”

Shinsuke reached over to the table and placed five red leather-bound books next to you. “Are these the ones?”

“Yep. They’re my diaries,” you grinned, “The next time Rintarou comes here, I’ll give these to him as my final gift. And if I live on after that… well it’ll be embarrassing if he’s read how I feel about him.”

“Ya say that as if you two ain’t been in a relationship for decades now.”

“Shinsuke! How rude…”

You two shared a small laugh in the winter night.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few nights passed and Rintarou shot out of his sleep as he felt something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

These past nights, instead of sleeping in the den with the other kitsunes as usual, he had been sleeping on the shrine’s roof. He felt that the closer he was to you, the more at ease he could be. But alas, every night his heart still felt heavy and worried. It didn’t help that the two of you hadn’t talked since the night you asked him to leave you alone.

But tonight he knew he had to see you.

Rintarou jumped off the roof and hurried to your room before sliding open the door quickly yet silently.

“Y/N,” he spoke before gasping as he saw you curled up and shivering under the blanket at the sudden draft of cold air.

“R-Rin? What are you doing-”

Without a word, he quickly shut the door and fell to his knees to hold you close in an attempt to warm you up. Though he could feel your body warming slightly, all he could think about was how cold you were.

“You’re so warm…” You mumbled and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Mmhm.” You leaned into his chest as your frail fingers trailed their way up his warm body. “So… so warm.”

“I’m using my magic, you know? I’m supposed to be the colder one here.” Rintarou brushed away a few strands of hair in front of your face.

“Hm… I guessed so,” you hummed and gently stroked his soft face. Not that you could really feel it anymore - your fingertips could barely feel anything. “Rin-kun, can I give you something?”

“You should focus on resting. I can get that later when you’ve recovered.” The kitsune insisted. Though he knew he was just saying that in reassurance. Whether that was to you or to himself, he didn’t know.

“Rintarou, we both know I might not live for much longer.” You coughed dryly as you spoke. Slowly, you removed your head from his neck and looked up at him with tired eyes. “Please, just let me do what I want to do.”

Rintarou bit his cheek, staring into your dull eyes with his own golden ones. Sure, he had the powers to heal you, but you kept insisting he let you pass like a normal human would, and neither did he possess the power to bring you back. This truly was a final request from you.

He nodded and helped you sit up properly, eyes following your hands as they reached for a small stack of books sitting beside you. There were four, no, five books, labelled ‘one’ through to ‘five’.

“I wrote these. It’s a bit embarrassing to say… but I wrote about my time at the shrine and about you so I wouldn’t ever forget them,” You smiled weakly at your memories of writing in the books almost every night, “I think, in total… my memories with you take up about four of these books.”

Rintarou couldn’t speak. All he could do was let the books rest in his hands, unable to even find the strength to hold them properly.

“I doubt I kept everything in there. There’s a lot, you know? I forget things and I don’t remember a lot of what I wrote. But I know I wrote about my favourite things like when… when we went fishing and those twins fell in the lake. And the summer festival where it rained so he had to have an extra day for fireworks. And when we held our own marriage ceremony in the forest with Shinsuke as our priest. Do you remember that?”

“Y-Yeah… I remember.” Rintarou’s voice cracked as he remembered the bright sunny day where you held his hand in the glade and shared sake with him. It was funny, thinking that a few decades had passed since that day yet he could remember it like it was yesterday. Yet it was likely already distant for you.

You looked over and laughed quietly upon seeing him holding back his tears. “I haven’t seen you like this since the wedding.” He chuckled lightly until you began to cough loudly. As always, Rintarou was quick to knock on your back until the coughing stopped and he helped you lie down on your side.

Instinctively, he got under the blanket with you.

“Hm… I’m glad I get to experience my husband holding me one last time,” you say softly and bury your face in his warm chest, “You’ll stay here, right? Until the very end?”

“Of course.” Rintarou mumbled and rested his chin on the top of your greying head. “I’ll always be here.”

“Wouldn’t it be so embarrassing if I woke up the next morning all okay?”

“I wouldn’t laugh.”

“You would in a few days.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“I don’t think it’s happening though.”

“Neither do I.”

The kitsune stroked your back softly. It was always nice for you, but for him it was calming. He figured that he didn’t want your last memory of him to be of him sobbing uncontrollably.

“If it were to end like this, I’d be happy though.” Your muffled voice spoke into his chest. It was nice, he thought, the feeling of his chest vibrating as you spoke into it.

“I’d be happy for you too.” Rintarou mumbled, glad that you couldn’t see his face and the way he was pursing his lips harshly in an attempt to not cry.

A few more moments of silence passed before he heard your quiet sobbing.

“Actually, I think I don’t want to die. I wish I could live with you forever, Rintarou. I wish that I could kiss you every morning and every night, and I want to watch the fireworks with you every summer festival.” Your tears were soaking his clothes as you sobbed. “I wish… I wish so many things. I’m so happy with what I’ve done in this tiny life with you but I just wish… I wish more could’ve happened.”

It took all of his own power for Rintarou to stay strong, to not weep and make your final memories horribly sad. Alas, a tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and soon more followed, disappearing into the pillow on which his head rested.

He knew he had to say something.

Taking in a deep breath, he called your name softly and cupped your cheek. The flow of your tears had slowed and you managed to tilt your head up to face your husband.

“I will always, always love you. And someday, whether we exist as ourselves or not, we will love each other again. I promise.”

With his words, you could only begin to cry again, though this time with a smile on your face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Your voice was tinged with both sadness and playfulness.

The kitsune smiled weakly at your words and allowed you to lean closer to him, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was weak, tired, and sad. Yet at the same time it was powerful and blissful. He noticed the grip your hands had on his arm weakened and by the time you pulled away from him, it was gone.

You took in a shaky breath and smiled softly.

“I love you, Rintarou.”

And with that, your eyelids shut and the last of your tears fell.

With that, Rintarou’s body began to shake as he sobbed into your body. Crying, coughing, wailing in the pain of your loss.

He held you until your body had become as cold as the snow falling outside the door, and by then he knew he had to leave. The other shrine maidens would come to check on you soon anyways.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He mumbled softly and placed a final kiss to your forehead before leaving the room with heavy but silent footsteps.

And as he walked through the snowy forest, he realised how dark it was. Looking up at the sky, he realised only the stars shone without the brilliant moon to accompany them.

“How fitting,” Rintarou mumbled and turned his gaze back to the snow-covered ground.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #suna x y/n #suna imagines #suna headcanons #suna fluff #suna scenarios #inarizaki x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu #miya osamu #kita shinsuke #haikyuu fanfiction #misoramsby

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knifewieldingenby · 3 years

Text

cherry pie

summary: Aiden is torn. He can’t help his growing feelings for Jaskier, but he couldn’t stand losing Lambert. Luckily Lambert doesn’t see the fucking problem.

content: Mostly Aiden/Lambert, side slice of Aiden/Jaskier, and mentions of geraskefer. Just a sweet little conversation about polyamory and staying true to yourself.

Aiden was wallowing again, he realized. He’d come home early with a certain type of groceries in hand, dumped everything on the counter, and got to work making a pie. It was the kind of thing he’d make to distract himself when his thoughts were beyond frustrating, when he wanted to be thinking of anything else. The last thing he wanted was for Lambert to come home after a long day at work to the smell of burning pie filling his apartment. They’d been doing this for a while, coming home to the other’s apartment rather than their own, and today was Lambert’s turn to come to his place. Hence the pie. Hence the trying desperately to think of something other than the man he had a crush on, the man who was definitely not Lambert.

Jaskier. What an infuriating, wonderful man. Lambert had introduced them and they’d hit it off right away, becoming best friends before any other feelings cropped up. But feelings did indeed crop up and Aiden was standing in his kitchen, head bent over a steaming pie, brooding.

He must have lost track of time because Lambert came through his door sooner than he expected, kicking his shoes off and peering into the kitchen, nose following the smell of baked cherries.

“A pie? Oh shit, what happened at work?” Lambert came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist.

Aiden sighed. “Nothing happened at work. It’s just- nothing.” His mind faded in and out of the here and now as it often did. He had forgotten to take his adderall that morning and his thoughts seemed incapable of sticking to one topic.

“What’s got you so distracted today?” Lambert leaned over and kissed the shell of his ear. It instantly calmed Aiden down in the same breath that it made him feel selfish and unworthy of Lambert’s affections.

You see, they’d talked about this early on in the relationship. Aiden made a point of telling all his partners that he had always considered himself to be polyamorous, and that if they were to stay together they would have to contend themselves with the fact that there was always a possibility that he would become attracted to someone else. It was a conversation that ended a few relationships, and although it made him sad he knew it was for the best. Lambert was different. They’d only gone on two dates when he decided to tell him, earlier than he usually did, because Lambert was someone he could see himself falling for fast. Better to get it out of the way early and avoid heartbreak.

He wasn’t sure how he’d expected Lambert to react. In the short time they’d spent together he had pieced together that Lambert was rough around the edges, gruff and broody, snarky and biting, but something much softer was buried beneath the surface and it seemed to come out much stronger when he talked about his family. And, in the few moments of peace in a maddeningly loud world, toward Aiden as well. He half expected Lambert to be angry and hurt; he was more sensitive than he let on and didn’t open up to many people, and it would only make sense for him to feel sort of betrayed and led on. The fact that he felt neither was nothing short of shocking. He had listened, silent and devoted to the conversation, and then he’d asked questions. How long have you been polyamorous, how have you worked it into your last relationships, would you ever consider being in a strictly monogamous relationship for your partner? That last one worried Aiden, but after he explained that he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that, Lambert smirked and said “good, don’t change for anyone.” And then they talked about ordering dessert.

It still felt weird to have Lambert know about his crush though. It had been eight months since that conversation and they were decidedly in love by now, had talked about moving in, even gotten a cat that lived at Aiden’s house while they were settling whether Lambert would move in or if they’d get a new apartment together (they were leaning toward the latter, so that the space felt like a fresh start for both of them). It felt like the first big test in their relationship; everything was going so smoothly, would this throw a wrench in their future together?

“Thinking about Jaskier?” Lambert said softly in his ear, and there was no judgement, no jealousy, just sympathy and support. Aiden nodded weakly.

“I know it’s...stupid. I shouldn’t want - I have you, don’t I?”

“Hmm.” Lambert pulled back and spun him around so they were facing each other. “Remember that first talk we had about you being polyamorous? You made it damn clear that you wouldn’t change for anyone and I don’t want you to. You like him, right?”

Aiden nodded again, his eyes trained somewhere around Lambert’s chest. But his boyfriend hooked a finger under his chin and lifted so he could look him in the eyes.

“And he likes you?”

Correct again. They’d talked about it, and Jaskier had talked to Geralt, and honestly the only one stalling was Aiden. He wasn’t normally this hesitant, but the idea of losing Lambert made him doubt himself.

“Hmm?” Lambert prompted. Aiden cracked a small smile.

“Been spending too much time around Geralt, you’re starting to sound like him.”

“Piss off, kitten.”

Aiden laughed now, the tension releasing from his shoulders. Only Lambert could be so lovingly snarky. Another thought occurred to him at that moment, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t you think it would be weird, me dating the boyfriend of a man you consider your brother?”

“Fuck, it’s completely weird. But I’ll get over it. Geralt doesn’t seem to mind. He likes you. Wouldn’t be surprised if he started hitting on you, too. Now that might cross a few lines.” They laughed together, Lambert’s hands still holding Aiden’s arms. It was a ridiculous notion; Geralt was mostly monogamous. The only one he looked at besides Jaskier was Yennefer, and it was because he’d met and fallen in love with them both around the same time. He had no intention of going outside that established bond.

“So, is this going to turn into a...what’d you call it, polycule?”

Aiden smiled. “Yup! So long as you’re still okay with-” Lambert silenced him with a kiss. Their lips moved slowly, hands exploring each other, and Aiden felt like he was floating. He briefly wondered if this was how he’d feel kissing Jaskier too, or if this feeling would always be reserved for Lambert. As they pulled away, doe eyed and soft smiles, Lambert reached around to the counter and came back with Aiden’s phone.

“Call your soon-to-be boyfriend. Make a date. If I have to see you pining over a cherry pie one more time I’ll fuckin’ make it for you.” With one last kiss to Aiden’s forehead he turned around, pulled a beer from the fridge, and wandered off to watch tv. Aiden smiled and looked down at his phone and quickly dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Aiden,” came the voice from the other end, sounding relaxed and warm. It comforted Aiden’s nerves to know that Jaskier was just as happy to hear from him.

“Hello there, little lark.” Idly he stabbed his finger through the middle of the pie, ignoring the fact that it was definitely still too hot to do so, and sucked the cherry flavoring off his finger with a small popping noise. “I know you usually have movie night with Geralt on Fridays, but are you free Thursday night? I know a little place down by the river. Nice and quiet.”

Jaskier laughed, and when he spoke again his voice was filled with affection. “I think I can pencil you in.”

#aiden/jaskier #aiden x jaskier #lambden #my writing #jasken #witcher polycule au

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Series Warnings: Slow burn, slow build, feelings, mutual pining, consent is key, praise kink, dirty talk, light d/s undertones and other kinky things, after care, angst, fluff, chapters will be warned individually.

WC: 2481

A/N: All I can say that this fic starts slow, hence the warning of slow build and slow burn. It’s going to get a little kinkier because I’m trying to fill out some kink bingo spaces. Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback. Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N stands in line and feels kind of out of place. No wonder. After the call, she didn’t exactly have a lot of time to change into anything too nice. She also didn’t have a lot of time to do research, but she’s here in her black skinny jeans and a simple blouse. She’s glad she opted for some boots with heels today and not her Chucks. She took a last look in the mirror before leaving her work place, thinking that she might look alright, maybe a little on the pale side but there was just really no fucking time. She stares at the building and the door ahead of her.

The big sign above the door says ‘Euphoria’ in fancy gold lettering.

It’s one of the biggest, in-demand night clubs, at least from what she’s heard. Her colleagues were raving about it. She could neither confirm nor deny, having never been here. She’s not one for nightlife to be honest.

The big bouncers at the entrance kind of scares her and she really hopes that they will let her in. She wants to write a story about the club but they don’t need to know that. She just needs to get in, and have a look around.

There was a woman on the phone earlier, calling up the agency where she works. She was so angry, telling them that she already contacted the police but they waved her off. Y/N’s boss was quick to pass the phone to her, because she wasn’t biased, and the woman said that she would love for Y/N to go investigate and expose the club for the indecency and debauchery that went on behind closed doors. Apparently, the reason for the woman’s anger was that her daughter, barely legal, worked at the club and the woman had a feeling that her daughter’s been doing things that exceed her work as a simple waitress and that the owner of the club pressured her into something the girl can’t get out of.

And now, Y/N’s just really here to see if the allegations are true. She knows that it could just be disappointment, confusion and frustration of not having control over her own daughter anymore which can lead someone to be so drastic about it. But if it is really true, it could mean a big breakthrough in her career as an investigative journalist. Even though Y/N isn’t sure if she’s on the right career path she wanted to take. If she’s honest, she’d rather just write a novel like she had done at the beginning, publishing stories that people rarely bought, but she loved doing it, loved everything about her writing process, loved the feeling of being able to write what was on her mind, to create characters from scratch. To get into the depths of emotions, to write down their feelings.

However, she needed a roof over her head and something warm in her belly. Y/N needed an income, even though it wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be, but at least it’s something. Especially now, after she had finally detached herself from her abusive ex and built up her own little life. He wasn’t really physically abusive, more the emotional type. Pressured her into things she thought she wanted too — like that damn stupid sex tape — but it turned out that she didn’t. She didn’t want any of the stupid games he played, and she needed many therapy sessions to realize that.

Now, two years after finding herself, she could breathe easy again. She could really enjoy life. She wouldn’t let anything or anyone dictate her emotions and she believed that the saying was really true; What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

She jerks back to reality as the line’s moving ahead again. There are still two more girls in front of her and then it will be her turn.

Her heart thumps fast in her chest.

Of course, the two girls get in without any problem at all. They are barely wearing anything!

Just as Y/N predicted, one of the bouncers stops her. “Excuse me,” He just says, eyeing her up and down.

He doesn’t say anything more though, so she’s kind of wondering if she should talk? Should she? Yeah, she probably should, so she summons up all her courage, “What’s wrong?”

The bouncer, who’s so fucking big, starts to frown and it makes him look even meaner, “I don’t think I can let you in like this.”

“What does this mean like this ?”

“Boots are not really appropriate for our establishment.” He says calmly. She can see that he’s been trained to keep a cool head.

“Well, I’m sorry, I just got out of work and my friend wants to meet me here. She’s probably inside waiting for me already,” She whines, throwing him a pout while she’s at it, using her big puppy eyes too. It usually works and she hopes that it works on this big guy as well, “Please? Make an exception? Just this once? We’re not staying too long. I just don’t want to disappoint her because she just got her heart broken and she needs my company, please?” She pouts some more, for fucking good measure.

“Dammit,” The bouncer groans out the word before placing a hand to his ear. She can see now that he’s wearing an earpiece, “Yeah, sir, sorry to disturb, we have a situation— yes, sir. Okay,”

The bouncer turns his attention back to her but he doesn’t say anything, just jerks his head towards the open door.

Y/N smiles and whispers a thank you in passing.

Euphoria is big, alright. The music is not too loud, which is weird because the music is always way too loud in clubs, but this one is just right. You can still talk to each other comfortably and you don’t need to scream to be heard.

There’s a packed dance floor and a long bar. A drink sounds about right, so she decides to go there first.

“Hey,” The bartender greets her with a bright smile, “I’m Garth, what can I do for you?”

Wow, he’s friendly. Bartenders usually just stare at her and raise their eyebrows, making her feel like she’s wasting their time because she obviously doesn’t look like she’s a heavy drinker, nor does she look like she’s a good tipper.

She smiles, “Are you always so friendly?”

“Your first time here I reckon?” Garth chuckles and is really taking his time. The other people standing around the bar don’t seem to mind waiting a little longer.

“Yeah?” She frowns a little, she doesn’t know why it’s so obvious.

“Friendliness and patience is key. Mr. Winchester wants his guests to feel comfortable. We’re all friends here.” Garth smiles when he looks into the crowd, winking and greeting some patrons as he does so.

“Mr. Winchester?” The name sounds familiar. She’s gone to high school with someone named Winchester.

“Maybe it’s him, how many Winchesters are there, eh?” Garth shrugs, “So, what can I get you?”

“I’m having a martini, please,”

Garth nods at her with a smile and turns around to mix her martini. He’s quick to place the drink in front of her, “On the house, since it’s your first time.” He winks, before he moves to take an order from someone else but he’s quick to be by her side again when he’s free. She strikes up an easy conversation with Garth when another girl walks behind the bar with an order.

The girl looks familiar. It’s the daughter of the woman who called her. The woman had sent her pictures so Y/N would recognize her daughter. The girl is blonde, the make up a little dark around her eyes. She wears a black leather mini skirt and a leather crop top. Her heels are very high.

“Garth, two bottles of Dom Pérignon Vintage Rosé,” She says and then frowns, “We still have two bottles of it, right?”

Garth chuckles, “Hey Claire, yeah, just restocked,” He proceeds to fill a big bucket with ice and calls for a male waiter to come help carry, “VIP, right?”

“Yeah,” She girl smirks, “It’s wild tonight,”

“I can imagine,” Garth smirks.

The girl, Claire, walks off with one of the male waiters, up the stairs and Y/N watches them disappear behind another thick looking door.

So, the VIP room is up the stairs then. How will she fucking get in there?

Y/N returns her attention back to Garth, thinking that if they’re all friends here, she can maybe get Garth to tell her about the VIP room and maybe he can show her? She has to feign interest in becoming a VIP — if it’s easy to become one?

Dammit, she should have done some more research.

She watches Garth work and waits until the man is free to come over and talk when she hears a voice behind her. It’s deep, husky, and it rolls above the music.

“Do you like it here?”

It makes her turn in her seat.

The man who looks at her is tall, broad, has an easy smirk on his face that borders on cocky, his hair a little tousled and he has crinkles around his eyes. Her brows furrow, he looks damn familiar and then the penny drops.

“Oh, I know you! Dean, right?”

She notices that he’s a little taken aback. She doesn’t know if he’s offended that it took her so long or if he’s surprised that she still remembers him at all. To be honest, he’s quite memorable. He sat next to her in English and they had History and Chemistry together. He rarely showed up and if he did, he always stared out of the window or pretended to listen when in fact she knew that he couldn’t care less about being there with his give ‘em hell attitude. She had the feeling that it was all just a big joke to him and he just sat out his time like a criminal who wanted to get school over with, to be released into the world. Surprisingly though, during English, when he sat next to her, it seemed like he really tried to follow the class, tried to get involved. And she remembered that he did really well on his GED.

Y/N never had the feeling that Dean was dumb. On the contrary. They read The Great Gatsby in her English class and Dean had some insightful additions when they discussed it.

He was always the bad boy in high school, though, and she thought that he was chasing after skirts which he probably did, but not as much as he took care of his little brother, Sam. Sometimes, Y/N would be jealous of what the two brothers had. They both came from broken homes, but the difference between her and Dean was that he had someone else to talk to. Someone else to get his mind off his situation at home, while she was stuck with cleaning after her alcoholic mother who she would constantly find passed out and laying in her own filth after a school day.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t like to go home. After class, she’d walk to the playground closest to the school. She would sit under the big tree and do her homework or do some writing until it got dark and she really had to go home. She would get lost in her stories. Stories of happiness, stories of happy families — something she didn’t have. Sometimes, even now, when she’s having a rough day, she’d still go there, sit under the familiar tree and write. It is her happy place.

Her and Dean were never friends at school. He hung out with the popular crowd. They never really talked outside of class, but one time, during English, he asked her if she’s going to prom. She said no. Not because she didn’t want to, more because she didn’t have money for a nice dress and she had to take care of her mother. And besides, nobody would ask her anyway. She asked him in return if he’s going. Dean just shrugs, “Nah, prom is stupid anyway.”

“You still here?” Dean asks when he sees that she has zoned out for a bit. It’s really a bad habit of hers, she knows.

“Yeah, sorry, I—”

“—I’m surprised you still remember my name, Y/N.” He smiles, it’s bright and wide and the crinkles deepens around his eyes. He looks very good and she can see that he had made something out of himself, unlike her.

“Of course I do. You still remember me too, apparently.” She tries to return his smile. It’s really addicting.

“Well, you’re hard to forget,” He says with an easy smile, “It’s your first time here?”

“Why does everybody think that? Do I have ‘ first time’ stamped on my forehead or something?”

He has to chuckle, “No,”

“Actually,” She says, and takes another sip from her martini, “I’d like for you to tell me more about your club. It’s your club, right?” She raises her eyebrows as if she’s not sure.

“Yeah, what do you want to know?” Dean asks, his hands disappearing into his pants pockets.

Y/N grins, “Well, Dean, I’ve heard about your club and your VIP rooms. Is it true?”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Is what true?”

“Well,” She gestures with her hand, and feels a rush of blood to her head, “You know, they say that people can get what they want in there?”

He lowers his face to be level with her, moves in closer, and brushes his nose against the faint hair on the side of her head. It makes all the other hair on her body stand erect, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He whispers and stands up straight with a cocky grin on his face.

She swallows and pulls her eyebrows into a frown at his remark.

Dean Winchester is still as cocky as she remembers him to be. Nothing has changed, has it?

Well, one thing had changed. She’s not the shy little girl anymore, she can stand her ground. If Dean wants to play, he can play. She won’t back out so easily.

Y/N smiles, it widens on her face and she clicks her tongue while she pretends to think about his words. After a while, with another big smile, she says, “I’ll find out,” She winks at him before she hops off her stool and she’s determined to walk to the bouncer up the stairs when Dean grabs at her wrist.

“Come with me,” He says in a deep and stern voice before he begins to walk ahead. She grins because he has taken the bait.

Chapter 2

#euphoria #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

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Human Au, One character goes into another character's room looking for him, the closet door is open, first character peeks inside looking for second character, but instead of clothes or the second character they find... something (idk what they found) -pineapple

Alright so there’s a lot of ways this could be seen but the thing I thought first is more or less

Remy and Virgil are roommates for whatever and Virgil needs Remy for smth so he wanders into his room and he’s not there so Virgil checks the closet

Remy’s not there, and while there are some clothes, they’re in a pile on the middle of the closet floor

Lining the walls and sat on the shelves, instead, are… weapons

Guns, knives, some arrows next to what might be a fold-able bow, blow darts, etc.

There’s a box that’s ajar and seemingly holding a dozen IDs sitting next to boomerang and the only outfit that’s hung up is a pressed suit

There are FIVE pairs of sunglasses stacked on top of each other as well and Virgil just wants to know what the FUCK is going on

Remy wanders in a moment later, while Virgil’s still trying to figure out his closet, and he’s just ‘yo babes heard you calling for me- aw, fuck’

Virgil turns to Remy like ‘what??? is this???’

Remy’s ignoring him and just muttering to himself, ‘stupid nosey roommates always get in my closet… no privacy… guess I should lock it but that’s my problem… ugh I liked this one too…’

Virgil, crying in spirit: ‘PLEASE give me some sort of explanation’

Remy: ‘yeah, sure, just uh… oh look! a knife!’

Virgil, a stressed fool, turned around to look, found that, yeah, there were knives but he already knew that, and what was that sudden sting in his arm that can’t be good when did the world starting getting all wobbly and dark-

Virgil wakes up about two hours later sprawled on his bed with a little smiley-faces bandage slapped literally over his hoodie

Checking the spot beneath the hoodie + bandage reveals a little red dot that Virgil knows well enough from when he gets flu shots

He groans

His roommate drugged him after Virgil found his danger closet

Getting up a few minutes later and checking around the apartment finds an unmarked envelope filled with next month’s rent sitting on the table and all of Remy’s things completely gone and packed up- closet definitely included

Great. His ex-roommate drugged him and left after Virgil found his danger closet that is now completely unexplained and will likely never be explained

Well, Virgil can’t let that stand

He wants explanations and by gods he’s going to get them!

Even though Remy’s gone, his presence isn’t completely erased. Virgil remembers him, remembers how he acted and where he went and a few other things

(It’s an anxiety thing, that he knows all this, alright? not stalker-y or creepy or related to the fact that Remy’s cute)

It takes a few weeks, triangulating all the places he went and making calls that are… weird, at the best, and downright life-threatening at worst, but everything just makes Virgil more and more curious until he’s standing in front of an abandoned warehouse that he’s heard mentioned five times in all his calling and is his best lead as to where the hell Remy went

He manages to break in through a window that’s missing its glass pane

Virgil’s confused at first when he finds nothing but a completely empty factory, decorated skillfully with old barrels and rotting planks, but he pokes around a bit and finds a trap door under a couple of marked ‘hazardous material’ containers

(Any other day, any other place? He wouldn’t have even thought of touching them- but here and now, all he could think was ‘where would I hide my secrets? underneath the thing no one would ever touch is probably a good idea’)

He descends the ladder within, dropping into a narrow passage that leads… somewhere

He starts to walk down it when the lights that lined the walls suddenly flickered off, plunging him into complete darkness

Footsteps echo in the hall until five seconds the lights are back on and there are six different people in dark, uniform clothing pointing guns at him

Virgil puts his hands up before they’re even asking him too, confused and unsure of what the hell was happening until there’s a ripple in the ranks, the people getting pushed and nudged to the side as someone presses their way in between them, making their way to the front, and it’s-

“Remy?” Virgil says the minute he sees his former roommate, though he’s- well he’s him but also not, sunglasses there but propped up on top of his head instead of over his eyes, still in ripped jeans and a crop top but their both plain black instead of being bright, garnish colours, a coffee in his hand but in a paper cup instead of a Starbucks one

“You’re- you-” Remy looks confused, brow furrowed, but eventually he just sighs, rubbing his temple before he says, “Drop it, boys, I’ll handle it”

The people with guns obey immediately, squinting suspiciously at Virgil as they holster their guns and shuffle away. Remy’s still looking at Virgil like he doesn’t belong there (which he doesn’t, he really doesn’t)

“How’d you find me, babes?” Remy asked, finally, after the silence stretched for a while. “There are some people who would kill to get here, though I don’t really think that’s up your alley.”

“I made a lot of calls.” Virgil answered hesitantly. He didn’t like implication that he had done something impossibly hard. “And triangulated a few locations. Just… small stuff.”

“Trust me, that ain’t small. Why were you trying to find this place?”

“I wanted to know why my roommate had a closet full of weapons and convenient knock-out drugs on hand.” Virgil snapped, annoyed.

Remy half-shrugged. “Fair enough.” He turned, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

Virgil didn’t bother asking why Remy wanted him to follow or where they were going or what was happening or anything, really, because something told him he’d figure it out soon enough

They eventually reached the end of the hallway, and Virgil had to bite back a gasp of pure shock when he saw the room they entered

The place seemed to be a fully set up agency; the room they immediately entered had smoothed rock floors that were covered in various desks and screens, lights attached to the walls and laid within the floor as well, hallways carved into the walls leading elsewhere

Most of the desks were occupied by people dressed identically to those who had held Virgil up in the hallway, working diligently in their plain outfits, guns clearly hanging against their hips and making Virgil more than a little nervous.

“Welcome… to Nowhere.” Remy said, waving at the room before turning to grin at Virgil. “We call it that because, legally, this place? It exists nowhere. The warehouse over it doesn’t even exist- not if you looked for it solely through google maps and government records, anyways.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?”

Remy shrugged. “Google maps makes mistakes. Government systems glitch. and if anyone happens to notice, well… most of them don’t have the luck of having had been roommate’s with one of the people who know this place is real.”

Virgil knew he paled at that. “I… hate that.”

Remy nodded. “Not surprised… come on! To my office!”

Virgil felt odd, shuffling past the desks with all the workers staring untrustingly at him as Remy whistled and more or less skipped by, taking them down another hall before ushering Virgil into one of the rooms branching off of it

The room was like the rest of the place- stone walls and floors- but with only one chair in it, set up before a desk + wall of monitors and screens paired with three keyboards and two computer mice.

“Have a seat.” Remy says, sitting himself on one of the outcroppings of stone sticking out of the wall. “We have a lot to talk about.”

And I won’t go further but basically the idea is that Remy’s part of a secret organization, one that’s entrenched in enough secrets it doesn’t even have a NAME. Virgil finding the place is a feat, so, of course, he can never leave. Like it not, he’s part of this place now.

Casting is basically

Virgil: Was just some random person, now works at Nowhere because they’d probably kill him if he didn’t. Doesn’t have an actual job in the agency, just works what Remy works.

Remy: Technical support/hacker. Keeps the agency a secret and deals with all the online stuff. Goes into the field when needed (hence having an arsenal) but he’s more of a stay-at-home man. Sometimes gets apartments when he needs them, but he’s bad at keeping the company secret, so it’s not often

Roman: Remy’s field partner when he goes out. I don’t have many more details for him except that he and Remy are highkey crushing on each other, which causes problems for the sake that a) Roman thinks Remy and Virgil are together/getting together, b) Virgil thinks Remy and Roman are together/getting together, c) Remy thinks they’re both cute but not interested in him. It’s called a convoluted love triangle except they ALL get together because that’s the only thing I write hscbjch

And,,,,, that’s all I have. Hope you like it shdcfbsjdfcsd

#no thoughts whatsoever as to the others but oh well #also I put this on queue so when this posts I'll be at school #just a heads up #the cryptid speaks #the cryptid answers #ts virgil #ts roman #ts remy #ts sleep #pineapple anon

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notjustabooksims · 3 years

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(Lol it’s not a writing challenge wtf Louise - it’s a writing tag, but in my defense I made the graphics while waiting for my job interview and I felt like I was dying).

I was tagged by @thesimperiuscurse for this, which I am legit hype for because I saw this one and thought it was so cool. And well - here we are. Thanks, Lila. 💕

R U L E S | List five things that you, without fail, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works.

This is basically every story I’ve written. Thinking back, almost all the stuff I’ve written has included some type of (mostly emotionally) abusive relationship, whether it’s with a parent, a romantic partner, a friend, or some combination of these. It has long weirded me out that I had this fascination, but it made sense once I realised that some of my familial relationships are marked by, if not outright emotional abuse, then at least by a good deal of neglect and controlling behaviour. A lot of my stories explore the after-effects of abusive relationships, the damage they do to a person, and how those effects come to light when seen through the lense of a loving, supportive partner or friend. Case in point: Vittoria’s whole relationship to Carlo brings to light how messed up her youth was. Enzo’s relationships with Lorenzo and Gina make him stand up against abuse. Lia’s relationships with her brothers and later Teo do the same for her... it’s all over the place! (It would have cropped up in the sequel to CoM as well for Nadir). And if there’s one thing I want to say through my stories, it’s that it’s always okay to cut someone out of your life if they’re no good for you. Family or friends, it doesn’t matter - you never have to let people hurt you.

Nadir has anxiety which makes him seem like a brooding dark boi and Enzo gets anxiety attacks when he stands up to dad. If I’d ever made the direct sequel to CoM, Genevieve would have had some anxiety/PTSD related to the experiences in the Tournament as well. It’s no secret I deal with anxiety issues myself, so I add anxiety into a lot of stories. One thing I’ll never do, though, is make any character heal via insta-cure. Hence why both Enzo and Lia (and probably the whole family) are in therapy even years after leaving. Therapy, therapy for everyone!

Mmm, yes pleeease. There are usually elements of this to the stuff I write. If it’s not an outer conflict like “rich bois aren’t supposed to love thieves” or an inner one like “I shouldn’t love you because I’m too dangerous for you”, I love me some forbidden love. (Wow, that’s a lot of love). There’s something so delicious about characters who want each other badly, but they can’t or won’t be together... of course it aaaaall builds to that moment when they just can’t help it and give into the feeling. Oh, it’s just the best.

This is even more pervasive than even the abusive vs. healthy relationships in my writing. As mentioned before, Nadir looks like a brooding dark boi, but he’s really a soft nerd boi. Celeste is a pretty, fun-loving blonde who will absolutely wreck your shit. Carlo is a dangerous gang leader, but also the softest soft boi who loves his family and whose main kink is consent. Gina is a gun-toting badass lady, but she loves art and family and she’s terrified of being hurt. Enzo acts cold and arrogant, but is actually a soft boi who cares a lot about his sister. Lia is a pretty, spoiled rich girl who’s actually perceptive, intelligent, and hard-working. Teo is a grumpy grumpster who’s... yeah, you guessed it, he’s a soft boi. I could just have said “soft bois” here, but I think it holds true for so many of my other characters. It’s a good way to subvert expectation while also making a character likeable, I think.

I tend towards bittersweet endings. It’s not because I think happy endings are dumb or for kids - fuck that noise. Optimism and happiness are valid as heck, thank you very much. But I like just that little bit of bitterness in my endings, because I think the good stands out stronger in contrast to the bad. Case in point: in CoM Nadir isn’t completely bad and Genevieve gets a purpose other than the Tournament, but they’re also not together and it might before she can really be comfortable with him after what he did. In the ending to gen 1, Carlo and Vittoria are both alive and well, but they’re forced to live apart. For gen 2, Gina and Enzo are together and happy, but Enzo still suffers from anxiety and other after-effects of abuse, plus he’ll never be able to reconcile with his dad.

I’m tagging @storiesbyjes2g, @itssimplythesims and @amphoraesims, if you guys want to. If not, that’s okay. And if you want to do it, go ahead and do it. I love this tag a lot and I want to see tons of them.

#taggy thing #long post #i'm so very sorry

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #past kamjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #kameron michaels #smut

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loneveenas · 4 years

Text

just for practice, right?

pairing: oikawa x reader words: 1080 rating: t for language + kissies

summary: oikawa and you try out practicing kissing together at fifteen. at twenty-two, he suddenly forgot how kissing works.

warnings: back at it again with the fluff (i think)

note: i’m still on vacation in italy (will be until august) so also back at it again with the quick and not beta-ed drabbles jfdsjlf note2: so check out my pinned post if u have any suggestions :’) im alr working on some headcanons on how a couple of my favorite characters would be spending their vacation in italy ;p

| mlist |

fifteen.

it started at fifteen.

you and oikawa had gotten together in his room, sitting on his bed across from each other.

“are you sure about this?” he had asked you, to which you nodded sternly.

“positive.”

“okay,” he said.

he looked nervous. rightfully so, since the two of you were going to try something out that had come up as a joke between friends. but you had gotten intrigued — as had he.

hence the situation.

“okay,” you repeated, breathing in heavily as he came closer to you.

his eyes darted from your eyes to your nose, lowering to your mouth. he was so concentrated, his breathing became softer and softer. your eyes, too, lowered from his eyes to his mouth, concentrated on what he was going to do next.

which you knew, but it was still exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

you nearly forgot to breathe when oikawa halted, a centimeter away from your lips.

“still sure about this?” he asked you again.

you slowly nodded. you could easily break the silence and pause by inching forward, but your heart was beating so loud and your hands were shaking, that you felt like you might ruin the moment if you did.

but luckily oikawa had gathered his nerves finally moved closer, your lips slowly brushing against each other.

it lasted two seconds, just a slight peck, and oikawa had pulled his lips away from yours.

you opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them. they immediately flew over to oikawa’s, but he wasn’t meeting yours.

you guessed it was a good first for practicing kissing between the two of you.

that was when the two of you were fifteen.

in the years after that first time, you had practiced kissing with oikawa more than once.

the thing was that he then became the love interest of many girls when you two got to college. you got to hang out with him less — but he never forgot your weekly game nights.

but for some fucked up reason you didn’t like that. ‘that’ being him becoming the love interest of many girls. it was inevitable, of course, but it still stung.

then why — why the fuck — was oikawa banging on your dorm room at 1 in the morning, yelling your name, saying he wants to talk?

“oikawa, what are you doing here?”

“please, let me inside,” he said, not stopping.

you debated whether or not to let him inside, he was still your best friend after all.

“what do you want?” you asked him when you slowly opened the door.

“to talk,” he simply replied, his arm forcing the door open, more than you had at first.

“talk about what?”

“…” no reply was given. instead, oikawa forced himself inside. “pardon the intrusion,” he mumbled, and you could only stare at your best friend entering your room and sitting down on your bed.

“okay…” you slowly said. “then talk. talk about what?” you crossed your arms. you almost knew nothing useful could be coming out of that mouth of his.

when he didn’t start talking, you stepped closer towards him, and you ended up sitting on your bed, next to him.

you didn’t know why, but you suddenly had a flashback to when you were fifteen, sitting down on his bed to… practice kissing.

oikawa didn’t start talking and you started getting irritated. where did that talkative mouth of his go? you clicked your tongue.

“look,” he finally started. “this is all going to sound weird—” you raised your eyebrows “—but i think i might have forgotten how to kiss.”

you snorted. “you what?”

he didn’t look at you.

your heartbeat started picking up and your palms became sweaty. what did he mean by that? is he trying out some dumb type of pick up line on you? you vaguely remember that happening a couple of times when you were younger — after that ‘first’ time.

“i knew this was going to sound so fucked up,” he groaned, running his hand through his face.

“what are you trying to do or gain using this bad pick up line—”

“i’m not—” oikawa interrupted. “well, i guess i am, but like—”

this time, you cut him off. “you are? what do you mean.”

“i mean that i want to kiss you again like we were fifteen,” oikawa snapped, slamming his hand agains his mouth. his eyes are wide with surprise and you don’t know what to say to him.

seconds pass without any words being spoken, but they feel like hours.

“like, for practice?” you slowly asked him.

he nodded. “just for practice.” but his eyes still weren’t looking at you, not like they used to.

you were staring at his face, when he suddenly stared back. startled, you placed your hands behind you, leaning back a little. oikawa saw this as an opportunity and a shot in his confidence boost, and leaned in.

his eyes were focused on yours before slowly shifting towards your lips — just like that first time when you were fifteen. he slowly placed his hands forward, making him lean into a little more. you were too stiffened up to move or process what oikawa was doing but you let him.

right when his lips were less than a centimeter away your eyes flicked back to his eyes. they were definitely focused on your lips, but still hesitating too.

“just for practice, right?” you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips and you noticed oikawa had to suppress a shiver.

“right…” he mumbled back at you. “practice…”

not wasting any more seconds oikawa finally pressed his soft lips against yours and you gasped at the touch. you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the touch of them and how much you had longed for them.

what started with a soft kiss that meant nothing when you were fifteen, practicing simple kisses and french kisses when you were sixteen, ended up starting with a soft kiss when you were twenty-two too.

oikawa’s soft lips were moving along yours softly but steadily making more movements. you felt your lips become sore and you smiled softly into the kiss.

you didn’t want it to end.

for practice, my ass. coming into my room at 1 am and claiming you forgot how to kiss, pfft.

but you couldn’t help yourself. cropped up feelings exploded and you instantly forgave oikawa for coming in with such a bad pick up line.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuucreations #oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagines #oikawa fic #oikawa fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #oikawa fluff #dyo's fic

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laowai-on-a-bike · 3 years

Text

Yinzu, Yinzu, Yinzu… these words echoed endlessly in my head. It all started when I was back from Jiu Gong Mountain, on the highway with my friend Freddy. I was impressed to admire such beautiful landscapes so close to Wuhan. It's weird that we are always drawn to faraway destinations, like Yunnnan, Guizhou or Sichuan provinces but ultimately, there are already plenty of places to explore near our home.

Besides, I will be moving to Guangzhou soon so I might as well explore the area before leaving. And then, starting a bike tour directly from home without the hassle of bringing your bike to a distant destination by train or bus or by mail is really much more convenient. Well, I'm already digressing...

At one point on the highway, then, an exit sign appeared with the name "Yinzu" written on it. I didn't know why, but I was immediately drawn to the name, maybe because it sounds good, I don't know. And then the obsession started: "I'll go by bike to Yinzu". I didn't even know what Yinzu was: a village? A town? Regardless, it seemed like a good pretext for an adventure.

Then Freddy, who speaks Chinese much better than me, managed to find the name in Chinese character. Yinzu was there, on my Baidu Map app (equivalent to Google Map in China), 90 kilometers away from Wuhan. Ideas for routes were starting to take shape in my head for some time.

In the middle of June, I was having a three days weekend for the Dragon Boat Festival so I said to myself: "Yinzu, I'm coming"!

One day before leaving, I checked the weather forecast: they announced rain for 3 days and a very hot weather (33-35 degrees) ... Ouch ... But, if we are still waiting for the right moment to leave, we will never go on a tour right? “It's raining”, “it's too hot”, “it’s too humid”: these are no excuses! Especially in the Wuhan region, where there are only two seasons (very hot and humid or cold): that doesn't leave many opportunities to ride if we wait for the perfect weather. So I decided to leave, raining or not.

The last time I rode my bike in bad weather, I wasn't prepared. I ended up with plastic bags around my shoes and a soaked underwear. After this experience, I had searched the internet for the perfect solution to ride in the rain. Overshoes? Good brand raincoat? 10 yuan plastic poncho from street grocery stores? The solution finally came from my British friend Jack: "You must embrace the rain ! Just remove your shirt and ride in sandals"! He was not wrong: in fact, why bother ? Especially with temperatures around 35 degrees, you are dry in 5 minutes ... So I grabbed a 15 Yuan rain shorts (a kind of ugly short made by trash bag material) because I don't like having my underwear wet - yes I know, I'm a little princess -, Decathlon sandals, and for the t-shirt, well… I'm really not a fan of riding with a cycling jersey, so a punk band tee-shirt will have to do !

The day before departure, I loaded my two bike rack bags, I took food (oatmeal and dried fruits for breakfast, and some dehydrated dishes), some clothes, a raincoat which in the end I didn’t use, an Italian coffee maker (instant coffee, no thanks), repairing tools, then equipment for camping (tent, sleeping bag, mattress etc.). Sleeping in a hotel is for a looser, I am a real adventurer... well that's what I thought before leaving…

Sunday 8 am, departure. It didn't seem to be raining, so now was a good time to go. The first 50 km were on a big dusty expressway, I could feel that I was in the suburbs of Wuhan: here and there, construction sites, bridges and roads under construction. I hadn't done 30 km before my bike was already very dusty. No problem, it gives me a feeling of adventure.

The Expressways in China are widely used by trucks… not necessarily super fun to ride, but it allows you to get out of town quickly. Well, positive note, the roads are often very wide here and you really have room to ride. I was trying not to think about the trucks and enjoy my trip, much like when your buddy is snoring next to you, if you start to think about it too much, you will go crazy and it will be impossible to think of anything else. But everything went very well and I never felt unsafe on the road during the whole trip.

The advantage of going on a short 3-day test trip is I learned a lot.

First lesson of this trip: do not trust the weather forecast. The rain they predicted? I hardly saw it… In fact, it was under a blazing sun that I had to ride the entire trip. They have an easy job, those weather broadcasting guys! Basically they write that there's a 50% chance that it will rain… not a big risk-taking on their part…

So finally, I rode in the blazing sun, and on an express way, there wasn't a single patch of shade. The sun hit hard! As I had already tanned well on my previous bike trips, I figured that I was not too prone to sunburn.

Second lesson: always wear sunscreen, even if you already had sunburns before! And above all, do not wait until you are sweating to put it on, otherwise, it makes a kind of mixture between sticky perspiration, sunscreen and dust...

Well, the sun didn't worry me more than that, at worst a sunburn. ... it was more in terms of hydration that I had to be careful. So I decided to tape bottles on the frame of the bike. DIY spirit! I also had with me some rehydrating powder to add to the water, since you lose a lot of salt with perspiration.

Anyway, I rode like that for quite a long time, and on the way, I passed a little hand-built house where people were selling water. Seeing me sweating heavily, they invited me to sit on a stool placed in front of a fan. So it was true: when people see a cyclist arriving on a trip, moreover a foreigner coming out of nowhere, smiles and kindness appear.

We talked a bit about the usual topics: Where are you from? What is your job? Are you married? What are you doing here? Then, after a few minutes, the father invited me to eat. At first I politely refused, but eventually I gave in. It is heartwarming to see the hospitality of the people especially at this time, when many Chinese people are scared to see a foreigner, thinking he may have brought covid-19 from abroad. It’s a bit tiring sometimes to see people pinch their noses when they see me on the street, I have to admit. But not at all here. They apologized for only offering me vegetable dishes, no meat, but in fact I was more than happy to eat fresh vegetables from their garden. We chatted about everything and nothing during the meal and it was already time to leave. I would have liked to drink beers longer, but I hadn't come to get drunk. I had a trip planned: Yinzu was waiting for me.

I got back on this big road but after a few kilometers I started to wonder. I hadn't come to go for kilometers on a boring road while being shaken by trucks ... Hence my third lesson of this trip: prepare your route well. Basically there are different types of roads in China that start with a letter: the S and G are the expressways where there are a lot of trucks, little shade, but that has the advantage of going straight and faster. Perfect for traveling for kilometers quickly and out of cities. But the X and Y are much more interesting country roads. Even if it takes detours, it is a change of scenery guaranteed. After these three days of biking, I learned that you have to know the right balance: ride the expressways to go quickly and far, especially when the landscapes are uninteresting. And take the small roads to ride peacefully, to discover rural life and be amazed by the landscapes.

So I changed my route on the GPS. Good decision: I crossed my first rice fields and I was finally over the moon.

Gradually, the landscape started to be really amazing and the colors of the landscapes became greener and greener.

Further on, I began to see mountains in the distance. It was my destination, it was these landscapes that made me want to go to Yinzu !!! The trip was finally starting to make sense. I was as excited as a kid over his Christmas present and all my doubts melted away

I rode like this all afternoon, with a smile on my face, despite the scorching heat.

Gradually, I began to wonder about where to sleep. I am always on the lookout when I ride, looking to see if there is a possibility of wild camping.

Lesson number 4: the rice fields are beautiful in photos but not ideal for camping ... It is not always easy to find a flat and, moreover, hidden place to have a good quiet night's sleep. The rural countryside is incredibly dense with crops and cultivated fields, so it's really not that easy to find a spot to camp. The solution might be to ask people in the area. Well anyway, I was heading to Yinzu and I could decide there.

I arrive near a pagoda and a temple in the middle of nowhere, on the way. What is that ? I asked a passerby, she reply "nothing". I thought she must have been surprised to find herself face to face with a smelly foreigner on a bicycle and told herself that I don't speak Chinese. In fact she was right: the buildings were completely empty, probably a future hotel still under construction.

Finally, a Yinzu sign. I was approaching my goal, but what exactly? I didn't even know what Yinzu was ...

So finally, Yinzu, is a small town which consists of a big main street with its restaurants, its stores. Everyone is surprised to see me there and I have fun seeing children speechless when they meet my eyes: "What can this foreigner on a bicycle be doing here?" I was so excited to have arrived at my destination that I didn't even take a photo of the city. I would also have liked to take pictures of people, but I didn't dare to do it.

I had to make a decision. Get out of Yinzu and find a place to sleep in the wild - I was still quite exhausted from the day's travel and the sunburns - or go and try to check in at the only hotel in the area. I say "try" because not many Chinese know it, but in China, many hotels do not accept foreigners. It is not really out of racism. No one really knows the reason: some say that cheap hotels do not have the computer system to register foreigners, others think that China wants to show only beautiful things to foreign tourists and they must therefore go to beautiful 4 star hotels. Well, I'm not criticizing, it's like that here and I accept it but it's still frustrating to live 15 years in a country, to work there, to be married there and to be refused in a hotel because you're a foreigner…

It makes it hard to plan a bike trip if you're not even sure you can find a place to sleep.

Anyway, whoever tries nothing has nothing and finally, I walked to the hotel without really believing it. The owner who ran the establishment did not even ask a question. I told him that I am a foreigner (sometimes people think I am from Xinjiang Province) just in case. He asked me if I had a Chinese identity card, but I replied with a smile that I only have a passport, that I came from Wuhan by bicycle and that if he wants, I have a photo of my Chinese wife's ID card. But he was very nice and gives me the room card, chatted a bit and even offered me tea.

I went upstairs to take a well-deserved shower. I was really sticky ... I realized that the sun had scorched me today ...

Lesson number 5: apply sunscreen everywhere, including your feet!

I was still a little disappointed with myself. Watching videos of people cycling around the world and camping in nature every night, I told myself that going to sleep at a hotel is a bit cheating, isn't it? But after 5 minutes under the air conditioning, I told myself that it was not that bad in the end. I travel for myself, not for others, and after a little over 100 kilometers in the day, I admit that a shower and a good bed made me feel good. Too bad for my adventurous soul...

I went out to eat something. In the street, I had the impression to rediscover the feeling that I had had when I arrived in China in 2006. It is a felling rather hard to explain. Once again, may be the surprise of people who greeted me with a warm "hello" and wanted to take a photo with me, or the number of street foods vendors who are hard to find in big cities nowadays. I ate a bowl of Lanzhou noodles, returned to the hotel and quickly fell asleep.

The next day, I woke up feeling very tired. It was undoubtedly linked to the heat stroke of the day before. My feet didn't hurt too much. I had few small blisters on my knees but it could have been worse. I told myself that I shouldn't hang around too much. Better ride early to avoid the heat of the day. By arranging my things scattered all over the place and loading the panniers on the bike, I was already sweating profusely… The day was going to be hot… I put on sunscreen (I had understood my mistake of the day before). I decided to go towards Wuhan but not by the same road because it is boring to take the same route as on the way there. There is a big lake 50 km south of Wuhan, which is perfect because I have never been there before.

The road to the lake was once again beautiful. I passed through villages and small towns, lakes, rice paddies, cornfields. Such a nice place to ride a bike.

Every now and then, I chatted with people at a gas station, or with a watermelon vendor who kindly offered me his stool to eat in the shade and chatted with me.

It was still very hot, but the sun was not too strong. In fact, I can handle the heat really well. I can ride in high temperatures with no problem but on the other hand, when the sun is burning my skin, it's really hard for me, especially from 10 am to 4 pm.

While riding under the sun, I was wondering about my next trips. Since I got back to cycling, I have dreamed of doing part of the Silk Road by bike from Lanzhou to Dunghung in Gansu Province, basically a road through the desert (with cities between). I was starting to realize that my dream was not going to be so easy to achieve. How to ride all day without shade? I guess someone should really be prepare for a trip like that.

I tell myself that in the end, I was smart enough not to jump straight into such a long adventure. Rather than directly embarking on a 20-day adventure and experiencing difficulties, I did things gradually: first short distances in Wuhan to get used to the bike, then trips of 100 kilometers in Wuhan, then a two-day trip, a mountain to climb to test my willpower and finally a slightly longer trip.

Around 11 am, the sun reappeared but I decided to go to the lake without taking too many breaks. I still should have left two hours earlier though (I left at 8 am) to avoid the strong sun radiation.

Gradually, the landscapes changed a little, the mountains in the distance disappeared and the vegetation changed. I would have liked to stay in the area longer but I had to go back to work. Next time I should ride longer.

When I got to the lake, I realized that in fact, I was not really in the place I hoped for. Make no mistake, it was very beautiful, but it wasn't really a big lake. Rather square ponds designed for fishermen.

But I was still super happy to find myself a little shade by the water with my friends the hens who came to visit me and sometimes fishermen who came to chat with me.

The place where I was, however, was not really ideal for camping because it was too close to a road. I didn't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by strangers. Besides, my mate Jack told me that while sleeping near this lake, a farmer kindly asked him to leave in the middle of the night few years before.

So after I had rested for an hour, I left to look for a more hidden place. The camp spot I found was not perfect - It wasn't by the water – but I could be invisible at night. I know that many travelers love to set out to find a place to camp. It’s like a game for them. Me, I always have a little apprehension of doing wild camp. This must be probably related to my inexperience in wild camping. But hey, after an hour of imagining the worst, I told myself that I was not risking much and I had to try to make the most of the present moment.

So I made a meal while waiting for night to fall to put my tent discreetly. I didn't want to attract the attention of the local fishermen either.

As I entered the tent, ready to sleep, I felt really stupid. The tent was like a real sauna!! In terms of insects, I was well protected by the mosquito net but the heat was really difficult to bear. I couldn't open the tent door or else I would be eaten alive by the bugs… I could hear them circling around the tent, attracted by a sweating smelly human and my phone light. So I had a hard time falling asleep. Usually, after a day of cycling like this, you can easily fall asleep around 9 p.m... I still told myself that the hotel in this season is nicer and that would save me from carrying a tent and sleeping gear (and a new lesson learned, a sleeping bag is useless in this season). The hammock could be the solution, I have one with an extra mosquito net, but I don't sleep very well in it... a new lesson learned on this trip !

Finally, I woke up at dawn. After packing all my mess, I had breakfast and a little coffee for the road.

I had around 50 kilometers to ride that day to get home and I had to work in the afternoon. The return went well, I followed a few roads lined with fields of tea and corn, but the landscapes were gradually less pleasant and more and more urban.

I finally arrived around midday at home. I had ride 230 kilometers with 1200 meters of elevation gain. That was not bad in this heat. At the end, I was super happy doing this trip: I had learn a lot for my future trips, I enjoyed the ride, saw beautiful landscapes, and met some nice people… I had beautiful memories in my head and only one desire: to leave again as soon as possible!!!

#China #Bike touring #Hubei #Wuhan

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