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#it'll be so interesting if I finish this and go back to the start to see how I've grown
papermonkeyism · 5 months
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sorry for being active
logical... i think I'm annoying you too much /especially with my bad English/, and if you don't want to answer, that'll be fine ^^` in any case, thanks for your attention! i'm probably overthinking this, but...
the last question was, what is Crippled (and the others for that matter) afraid of? I understand that all the hounds lived in a pretty terrible place, but what about simple, almost human things like darkness and loneliness? Surama seems quite fearless to me, despite her dislike of the dark, unlike her brother (okay, he's just quite active), and Iacar is reliving the past. of course, they worry about each other, I think, but... hey, admit it, who is afraid of thunderstorms? :)
sorrysorrysorry ^^`
English isn't my first language either (terveisiä Suomesta). It's just that I'm wary.
I do not currently live in a creative enough environment nor life situation where I can reasonably sacrifice several days out of my week into such a demanding creative work, alone, without burning out.
And every time I so much as casually mention Wurr online, there's usually at least one person who'll come and let me know how tragic it is that I've "decided" to "abandon" my "great story and characters". (Or, in one case, how irrelevant and pathetic I am as a failure of a person. Fuck that one, though.)
Like, I had a bit of a nervous breakdown because of health and livelihood issues back in last spring that I'm still occasionally dealing with (one's systolic blood pressure is definetely not supposed to stay over 190 for long), and I just don't want to be dealing with the people sending me obituaries for my comic on top of that right now.
Like, maybe, maybe, if I one day move closer to Tampere to have my Brainstorm Buddy in my reach regularly again. I miss having creative company.
But right now? I'm just tired.
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12freddofrogs · 6 months
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Very weird to be in that stage where a show is grabbing hold of your brain, but you haven't finished the show so you cant interact with fandom because spoilers, and you're watching it with someone else so you can't even just keep watching until you finish
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spiritofjustice · 7 months
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me earlier this year: SOBR probably won't go above 90k words since i imagine every act is about 30k words give or take?
me recently: okay, it'll be 120k words at max
me now: ok. it'll PROBABLY be no more than 150k-
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The Isaac comic is gonna be longer than I anticipated lol
I thought it would be 6-7 pages but it’s looking more like 10-12
And this one is just part 1 
I’m having fun with it though, trying new things with panels and text and what not
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hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.
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I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.
Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:
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I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?
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It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—
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—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.
Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like
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For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!
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The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.
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After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.
I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.
I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.
I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.
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After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.
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She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.
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I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.
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Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.
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I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)
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I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...
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desolateice · 1 year
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I’m prepping for the Dutch route and omg. I underestimated how much work it would take versus Chozen. Because Dutch and the cobras are in the entirety of RBF&GT. I’ve only made it to chapter 34 and already have pulled over 6k just from searching for his name and this isn’t even the Dutch heavy sections. So uh this might be a while before this route actually gets started.
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bon2bonn · 4 months
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Media Menace
22!F1 grid X female!driver!reader
Words count : 1.5k
* just Some of the fans favourite moments of Y/N being the media menace she is ✨.
It was as a normal interview with Seb standing in the media pin , being asked about the drivers and the line up so far , he listened carefully before he answered " well , I think we have a solid lineup so far, each have their own unique driving style and that makes it more interesting to see and to compete with on track , they surly matured from where they started and........" What the fans didn't expect was when the camera zoomed in on the back of the pin , where some of the drivers were seen carrying a wiggling Charles trying to escape their hold as they marched on , being led by Y/N , who was chanting " to the pit ! , to the pit! " hand raised with a water bottle in it , her media officer could be seen standing at the back facepalming as she watched her driver walking away unfazed by the cameras following them .
••
*Crack-heads leader 🪄.
They paused as they came across Fernando , who was being interviewed close by and asked her something while pointing at Charles, she answered back and he nods at her , raising his own water bottle in a cheer , letting them go on their way with Charles seemingly pleading to be let down but no one dared to help him as the rest of the grid and media officers watched in amusement as they disappeared out of frame , the camera zoomed out and turned back to Seb as he finished his answer , blissfully unaware of the chaos behind him .
•••••••••••••••••••
* The road to Silverstone fistfight! , choose your fighter ! MV#33 Vs LH#44 🥊💪🏻.
She sat between Max and Lewis, bored out of her mind and fed up with their pity low-key shit talk by both drivers along with her team's principal and the media exaggerating the rivalry between them three , ignoring the reporters trying to bait her with their twisted questions as yet again she got stuck in the crossfire.
One reporter asked "what's your input on the ongoing feud ? " she let out a sigh at the repeated question for the millionth time this weekend alone , answering with a shrug " I don't know mate , I just work here " . Another one asked " what do you think of this ongoing rivalry, and do you think it'll last and how today's results will effect tomorrow's race ? " She answered nonchalantly " I sure hope it wouldn't affect tomorrow's race for I'm starting between them " giving them both a pointed look as if warning them , both looked away trying to maintain a stoic face listening as she went on answering , ignoring her officer who kept waving their hands at her from the back to cut it out " and as for if it'll last I honestly think today's quali could've been a fist fight, you know , end it there and move on with their day but no one is ballsy enough to arrange it , so here we are " leaving the reporters with a hanging jaws and taken back looks along with the driver's media officers as she leaned back into her chair waiting patiently for the next question .
•••••••••••••••••••••
* "Bitch! , I'm out!" .
Being seated in another post-race conference with Seb and Lewis after scoring P2 after a breathtaking battle against Seb, both Seb and her were beyond exhausted from pushing eachother to the limit but they enjoyed how they kept eachother at the tip of their toes , same as the fans who were at the edge of their seats anticipating who'd cross the finish line first between these two , and the final lap was proof of it , but she made sure to secure herself the position by one tenth of a second ahead of Sebastian who made sure to congratulate her first , everyone was pleased with the race results, well, everyone but the reporters who kept slipping backhanded remarks starting from the post-race interview up untill the actual press conference where they kept asking whether she considered another career or if she ever consider an early retirement , she got bored as another one asked why she still held on to the F1 career instead on Turning to other fields os sports , she gave him a fed up look " I just wake up everyday and decide that I want to make my life harder , why choose something else easier while I can make myself miserable here with you lot asking me the same question in hopes I'd give a different answers?" That got them to shut down for a while before another one asked the same , again.
Before either Seb or Lewis could shut them for their way or choice of questions she took the mic with no hesitation addressing the reporter who asked her for the third time when she'll take the retirement decision " look , and listen carefully cause I'm going to say it once , and I won't be repeating myself . when I Y/N L/N finally decide to retire from F1 my statement would be " Bitch, I'm out " nothing more , and definitely nothing less , so untill I myself say I am retiring I won't entertain this question anymore, and I advise you along with everyone else to do the exact same thing . next question please ! " Leaning back with a leg crossed over her knee as she waited for the next question . And It'd be save to say no one dared to poke at her with such assumptions after that answer , and earning herself the Bear nickname.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
* Toto's karma .
She rolled her head back distractedly looking up at the sky as she had to sit again through one of the team's interviews with her and Lewis both stuck with Toto as he went on and on about the teams competing against Red Bull and their chances this season and his opinion on drivers etc ...., she looked at the side , waving at some of the fans who walked by and shouted for her attention, sending them hearts and making faces before she was brought back by the host asking them three " speaking of the Red Bulls and the on going rivalry , who can you say is your favourite driver " Toto answered before any of his driver's could do, in a dismissing tone " in Red Bull? , I can't say there's anyone one I can name " . she however smirked as she shared a side look with her teammate before she answered ignoring Toto's pointed look giving him a wide tight lipped syndical smile " Oh! , but I know one I could name , you might be very familiar with him after all " the host eagerly look at her waiting for her answer " my favourite Red Bull bull driver is Toto Christian Wolff " Lewis tried to hold back his laugh as she kept smiling smugly at the said man , who looked away at the mention of his name with his eyes clenched in a grimace , wondering what have he ever done in his past life to get her as a karma/driver . The host stuttered before changing the topic , asking the drivers about their upcoming summer breaks and holidays .
••••••••••••••••••••••
* lando's downfall (literally) .
She stood in the media pit doing an interview with one of her favourite reporters , answering swiftly as the reporter gave her questions she actually enjoyed for once , not the diet and ignorant questions as if she barely knew anything about the sport , let alone drive . Her interview was going well , too well if she could say , because not long after she was halfway through answering her question , a gremlin decided to poke her for the fun of it. Having finished his interview already he turned to her to fill the time before his next interview , and boy would he regret it .
She kept swating his hands away and smacking him in attempt to finish her interview in peace , but no , he didn't pay her any mind untill he was called away . She glared at his smug face as he successfully annoyed her for the day , then she looked at the reporter with a wide sweet smile as she said " he'll regret it , trust me " nodding along as the reporter laughed nervously at her not knowing how to react , but that turned into shock as the driver excused herself for a moment.
she went around the pit sneaking up behind the McLaren driver, giving a thumps up to the reporter who looked at the camera with wide eyes before back at her , only to witness as she swept her foot in a kick aimed at the back of lando's knees, causing him to gasp as his feet gave up on him and he fell face first on the ground mid interview . She dusted her hands in accomplishment as she made her way back to the interview , asking as she smiled innocently " so , where were we?"
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doobean · 9 months
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SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN - ISAGI YOICHI
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synopsis: A quick game of truth or dare goes a long way for you and your boyfriend.
contents: afab!fem!reader, college au, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, parties, the whole college experience, awkward first times, isagi centric, narration heavy throughout, explicit content (he calls you baby, unprotected, virginity loss, fingering, handjob, saddling, clothes stay on!!, finishing inside, a lil bit of aftercare and cuddles), mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: was originally req on my other blog before i dedicated a whole post to it because why not... also idk if its actually called saddling or not but some of these sex positions have weird names so im just gonna call it saddling (u sit in his lap)
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It's not Isagi's fault when the topic comes up. Everyone is drinking—like an absurd amount.
On this particular night, they win their last game of the season, and what better way to celebrate than at Reo Mikage's overly lavished-out apartment? Bachira is the first one to suggest a party and, after minimum persuasion, Reo offers up his place. Tonight is also the night that everyone finds out that Reo has a fucking wine cellar. The type of wine cellars with evil-looking spiral staircases that can hold a multitude of foreign wines and hard liquor that Isagi can't even pronounce even if he tries.
And it's also not Isagi's fault when he agrees to play "truth or dare", foolishly thinking that it'll remain PG-13 as if he had forgotten that having Shidou and Bachira around makes everything but PG-13. Everyone is about four shots in when Shidou's tongue starts getting loose and suddenly everyone becomes interested in their teammates' sex lives — specifically Isagi's sex life with you.
So this is how it happens. This is how they get on this ridiculous tangent.
They’re guys, so the shift in conversation comes as no surprise to Isagi. Even though Isagi doesn’t actually have any legitimate interest in said conversation.
"You can't avoid answering by taking shots," Bachira almost slaps the shot glass from Isagi's grasp as he brings it up to his lips. "C'mon, just tell us already, Yoi."
Approximately ten minutes before his turn, Isagi has learned against his will that Shidou has slept with nearly half of the cheerleading team — all while wearing the school’s mascot costume. His best friend, Bachira Meguru, apparently has a slight degradation kink and is secretly a masochist. Reo and Nagi? Shared a few girlfriends between them during the course of high school and freshman year of college. And now it’s his turn.
"Fuck off," Isagi scoots away from Bachira and settles closer to Rin on his right, the only 'normal' one of the group for tonight. "Can we just skip to the next person?"
The whole team is sitting on the living room floor in a circle, each person clutching either a bottle of alcohol or one of Reo's weirdly expensive shot glasses that he says his father had bought from Switzerland. The whole team, minus Rin, also can't seem to let go of the conversation. Almost as if everyone knows the truth and is waiting for Isagi to say it himself.
"Nuh-uh," Reo sloppily points his finger at Isagi and leans slightly forward, almost faceplanting himself on the floor if Nagi hadn't pulled him back in time. "You've been avoiding all the juicy questions tonight, Isagi."
Maybe it's his secretly inflated ego but Isagi likes to think of himself as a good boyfriend. And a good boyfriend should keep all private details... private. Even if there are no details to share.
"You guys are drunk." Isagi points out and nudges an overly tipsy Bachira away with his foot.
Kunigami leans against the couch behind him and throws his head towards the ceiling. "That's the whole reason why we're playing this in the first place."
"So, answer the question, Isagi." Shidou tips his wine bottle back, it's nearly empty, and goes in for another drink. "How often do y'all do it?" He asks with a sly smirk.
Isagi bites his lips, trying his best to look threatening while the red from the alcohol blushes his cheeks. "I'm not answering."
Chigiri huffs from across and jabs Shidou's side. "Just give him a dare instead, this is getting boring."
"Rinnie, give him a good one."
Rin flicks Shidou a seething glare at the nickname but the other male laughs it off. Everyone does because, unlike Rin and Isagi, everyone is currently shitfaced. Still, Isagi can't help but wonder what his long-term rival has up his sleeves. They didn't have the best friendship, but at least they can somewhat acknowledge each other's skills to some degree, even if Rin can be a dick at times.
After what seems to be a long while, Rin speaks up. "I dare you to go home."
He says it so nonchalantly that it makes Isagi almost spit out his drink. "Excuse me?"
Rin repeats it again and Bachira, who's now seven shots in, chimes in. "Oh! So he can fuck his girlfriend, right?"
Rin rolls his eyes, wearing an exasperated expression. "Yeah, sure."
On any other day, Isagi would feel offended but that isn't the first emotion that overcomes him. He feels oddly... relieved? But he can't let the other drunkards know that, obviously. Rin gives him a knowing look and takes another shot.
"Dumbass, are you going to do it or not?"
Tonight's been weird, Isagi thinks. Is his rival looking out for him?
Isagi hesitantly stands up and settles his drink on a nearby tabletop before shuffling towards the front door to grab his gym bag and backpack in the corner. "You guys are losing your minds." He fakes a frown.
"Ugh, you're no fun Rinnie."
"Isagi Yoichi doesn't do shit with his girl, that's all I'm hearing."
"Waah? No, he definitely does! I think?"
He drowns out the background noises as he pulls out his phone and hovers over the Uber app. Hopefully, his teammates will forget about this interaction by tomorrow morning.
And while Isagi knows that it shouldn't matter, he would be lying to himself if he hadn't thought about taking things to the next level with you. Still, he feels like it shouldn't be his choice to decide the pace of the relationship. He's an average student in terms of academic performance and has already secured a spot on the national team before graduation. On the other hand, you're currently studying almost every night to keep your scholarship and aspire to get into graduate school. Isagi would be absolutely floored if he suddenly became a distraction — your distraction.
Which explains why during the course of the six-month relationship the most that you guys have gone far with is second base: makeout sessions and basically anything that's above the waistline.
Instead of heading back to his apartment, Isagi finds himself typing in your campus address into the Uber search bar. He doesn't really know why but maybe the combination of the alcohol and vulnerable conversations tonight really messed something in his weird brain. Your place is pretty close to his, so he can just walk home afterward, and plus he needs to see you to... what? To vent? Maybe that's what he needs.
It didn't take long when he finally arrived in front of your apartment. Most of the alcohol by now has settled down, so hopefully he doesn't look like a mess when he sees you.
Isagi rings the bell. There’s a moment’s silence, then a shuffling, the sound of the door clicking in the lock, and —
"Yoichi?"
Your hair is down and slightly damp as if you had just come out of the shower not long ago. You're wearing one of Isagi's old shirts that he gave you on one of your earlier dates, a large graphic tee featuring a faded-out character from a show he doesn't remember. The shirt hangs barely past your thighs and... Isagi's eyes bug out just a bit because of course you're not wearing shorts. A good deal of your thighs are exposed, and Isagi wonders why he feels so goddamn uncomfortable about that. 
He hears his name again and snaps his eyes up. "S-Sorry, is it late for you?"
Your laugh makes his stomach flip a few times. He knows it's late. It's nearly midnight but you're still making time to talk to him. God, he feels lucky to have someone who's as patient as you.
"You know you're always welcome over, right?" You step aside and motion your arms inside. "Come in, you look like you have a lot on your mind, Yoichi."
Isagi is also grateful that you like to keep the lights off when you study, excluding the tiny desk lamp you have, because the last thing he wants to happen is you making fun of his alcohol-ridden cheeks. He's pretty sure you can smell the tequila from his breath as he thanks you, and also sure that all that weird watermelon-flavored vaping smell from Karasu and Otoya is sticking to his clothes. Because you're the way you are, he knows that you'll offer to wash his clothes because the next thing you say is —
"You smell, Yoichi. And not in a good way!"
Okay, he didn't expect those exact words to fly out of your mouth, but he understands what your intentions are.
Isagi throws his hands up in defense and laughs. "The guys went a bit too hard, I know. Can't exactly help that."
He allows you to remove his jacket and you point toward your drawers. "I think I still have some of your clothes somewhere there. Just throw the rest in the hamper and I'll get to it."
And he does exactly that. Isagi ends up wearing a shirt that he could've sworn he lost forever ago and a pair of boxers that he lets you wear from time to time. It's not unusual for you to have some of his clothes since you guys have made it a tradition to try and have somewhat regular sleepovers on weekends that aren't crammed with football games and practice exams.
Once he hears your in-unit washing machine go off, he walks out and makes himself at home on your couch. It's been a long day, and he knows that he shouldn't extend his stay judging from your bookmarked textbooks and wall of sticky notes of god knows what formulas, but he finds the remote and flips on the television.
Oh, perfect. It seems that the show you two were binging from days ago is still paused.
"Hey," You plop down next to him and curl up to his side. Isagi tries his best to not stare at your thighs. "Wanna tell me what's on your mind?"
Isagi finds his shoulders immediately relaxing at your words and lets his mouth run with a small pout accompanying his lips afterward. "For the record, everyone was drunk so I doubt they would remember tomorrow, but they were pretty nosy about our sex lives."
You blink and tip your head. "Oh, well did you tell them?"
Isagi groans, breaking eye contact, and lifts a hand to his head to rub away the incoming headache. "No, I don't think they'll let go of it if I've told them."
It's stupid and irrational, Isagi knows that for sure. But he really doesn't want his private business being spread around by a bundle of testosterone and egotistical college guys. Not with your name in the mix.
"Then, do you want to change that?" You ask quietly, tugging Isagi out of his thoughts. Your words take him by complete surprise. In fact, that's the last thing he expected you to say. He'd expected more of your usual harmless complaints against his team.
Isagi withdraws back, just enough to see if maybe you're also drunk, but the sobriety of your straight face is enough to convince him that maybe you've gone insane instead. "What? We don't have to do anything just because of the guys. I want you to feel comfortable, you know?"
"I know!" You say in a rush and he flinches at your volume.
He makes out your flustered cheeks with the dim lighting from the television and suddenly you start fidgeting with the hems of your shirt. It's at that moment that Isagi takes note that he's been shamelessly staring at your thighs for god knows how long.
You bury your face into his shoulders as you continue. "Are you bored in our relationship, Yoi?"
Now Isagi is really confused and, frankly, a bit scared. Are you going to break up with him? Or do you think he's going to break up with you?
A free hand cradles your head while the other takes a tight grasp of your hands. Isagi holds you close as he places a longing kiss on your forehead. "Of course not, why on earth would you even think that? Is everything alright?"
He feels your body squirming around for a bit and then a shaky sigh. "We just—we never do anything. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed when you’re around your friends."
Ah shit, that’s where he fucked up.
"Hey, sorry I didn’t mean to come off that way. I’m not ashamed of what we currently do. I just think it’s best to keep things private to ourselves at the end of the day as opposed to sharing it with others." He explains.
"But don’t you ever just wanna do more than making out?"
He blinks and his mouth gapes. "What?"
"All we ever do is make out, you don’t touch me anywhere else but my chest… don't you want to go further?" Your voice lowers significantly at the last bit. 
You’re still not looking to meet his gaze. And you’re actively trying not to because Isagi feels the weight of your head leaning against his body more. He doesn’t push it and instead accepts it. Clearly, this is something that he didn’t foresee. Maybe you’re also like him, uncertain and awkward about bringing up the topic. 
Isagi arranges his face in the most neutral expression, ignoring his thundering heart, before lifting your head off his shoulders. "Then do you want to mess around a bit?"
You answer in a way that makes him melt. Your arms sling around his neck, lips soon finding solitude against his, seemingly not caring if his breath does smell one too many shots of alcohol from earlier. Isagi is taken aback by your sudden boldness and it takes him a moment to register what’s going on before returning the same energy back. A quick swipe from your tongue is all he needs to know that you’ve been touch-starved for too long.
You're straddling his lap now and the boxers Isagi's currently wearing is doing a rather poor job of masking the huge tent that's grinding right against you. He pulls away from the heated kiss, watching in a daze as a trail of salvia connects between you two, and winces when he feels your weight pressing against his length. 
"W-Wait, slow down a bit…" He tries to lift you up but you stay steady in his lap.
Your hands rest on his chest and you shake your head. "I wanna go all the way tonight. Can we do that, Yoichi?" There’s something about the way his name rolls off your tongue that sets Isagi off but he has to make about one thing.
"Are you sure? Like positive?"
And the heat in your gaze holds a clear promise — you want this more than anything.
He tries to lift you up slightly again, and this time you follow along. Isagi feels you flinch under his touch as his calloused fingers trace their way down to your panties, toying with the lace ribbon at the front before slipping underneath the cotton fabric. It’s completely soaked through and the way his index finger easily slides between your folds has you almost crying out in embarrassment. 
“Baby,” Isagi hisses through his teeth as he gets familiar with the foreign gummy walls. “All this for me?”
Your boldness from before seems to have dissipated once Isagi took control. You only sigh in response when Isagi nips at the space between your neck and shoulder. Isagi groans against your skin when you find yourself sinking deeper into his finger from the touch.
“Touch me more, please…” 
Having you this close to him, holding him, spilling out these phrases that he didn’t expect to hear, it’s all too much for Isagi. His lips reconnect with yours again, this time with more force and desperation. Your body shudders and twitches under his palm as he picks up his rhythm, inserting an additional finger and then a third one. 
“Does that feel good, baby? Tell me how you like it.” Isagi pays close attention to the small shifts on your face as he attempts to stretch out your walls bit by bit. “Let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”
You bury your face deep into his shoulders once more. “Don’t stop, it feels really good, Yoichi.” It’s his turn to twitch when he feels a hand palming at his own arousal. “Can I have a turn, too?” You have no idea how much weight your words carry. A simple question like that makes Isagi’s stomach twist in knots.
“Y-Yeah, you can.”
The position is a bit awkward but, eventually, it ends with your hands engulfing around his throbbing length poking out from his boxers while he’s knuckle-deep in your entrance. The slick, wet sounds coming from your folds is the only audible noise in the room, other than your occasional mews and Isagi's muffled grunts as you pump him off.
When his length is embarrassingly covered in his pre, Isagi releases his digits from your warmth. "I'm going to finish at this rate, baby." He breathes out.
You shyly meet his eyes, both of you jolting at the incredibly warm and slippery mess you've created from playing with each other when you line his length against your entrance. "I'm going to put it in, Yoi." Your voice is shaky and your free hand grips his thigh as you slowly descend.
Isagi breathes out a raspy gasp as he watches your heat swallow his length. Seeing his arousal disappear inch by inch is a sight that he’ll burn in his mind forever and, when your walls squeeze around him, it takes everything in his power to not cum right then and there. His hands immediately find home on your hips, thumbs digging into the sides and his digits kneading at the flesh of your ass. You’re tight, hot, and overwhelming all at the same time. The feeling consumes him entirely.
"Fuck," Isagi throws his head back and screws his eyes shut. "Don't move—give me a second."
You moan in return, eyes shifting away from the sight. "Take your time, Yoi."
Isagi lets you cockwarm him for a few seconds, feeling himself slowly calming down as he adjusts to your tight walls and begins to thrust slowly. You don't bother shielding your moans, and it makes things all just a bit harder for him to concentrate.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, only going off of what he’s seen from the occasional porn videos he’s seen. Isagi thinks he’s doing a decent job, even though his mind is going absolutely crazy right now. Your erratic moans are right against his ears and the sounds coming from your warmth are the only things keeping him in check. Isagi’s palms rest steadily on your ass as he continues plundering in and out of your sloppy folds from the couch. It isn’t long before you’re shaking and sweating against him, making your earlier shower completely pointless.
You cry out, over-sensitive and shaky, clenching down on him. Isagi's vision gets hazy and soon he realizes that his eyes are misting over, small pools of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, threatening to smear his cheeks. He'd never expected something like this can render him so weak.
Your voice grows hoarse from the volume you're emitting and Isagi hopes you don't receive a noise complaint from your neighbors tomorrow. He leans forward, helpless to let your cries go unanswered, and smothers the noises with his mouth. Your ass meets every thrust he pushes forward and feeling the familiar heat building up in his stomach, Isagi knows he isn't going to last that much longer.
One of his hands snakes up your shirt and cups one of your breasts, toying with your nipple, while the other hovers over your clit. He feels your entire body trembling, chest heaving, and walls throbbing all around him. "Yoichi, it's too good...!"
"Hold out just a bit longer, baby." Isagi's thumb begins circling your bud and it's the final push for you. Your mouth tilts forward, hips bucking and grinding, and you squeeze him so tight that he doesn't have the time to pull out, coating your walls with his white mess. Everything feels hot like fire spreading across his entire body.
Once he feels your body slack against his, he snaps out of his thoughts and immediately pulls out, grimacing at the sheer amount of cum that flows out of you.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I'll run to the store tomorrow morning, baby." His breathing is labored but he still manages to press his lips to your forehead, and he inhales. "You did amazing."
"Mhmm," You make a vague noise that sounds like a bit like acknowledgment to his ears.
Isagi loosens his arms around your body, shifting your figure to sit up by the edge of the couch, and waddles to the bathroom to fetch a damp towel. When he returns, your eyes are half-lidded and you look like you're one second away from passing out from exhaustion. He's not sure if it's from the sex or that you probably stayed up all day studying.
When the sounds of his footsteps come closer, you peer up and lock eyes, taking his breath away. "Will you stay the night?" And he almost laughs on the spot.
"I'm not gonna do a hit and run, baby. You really think I'm doing that?"
He removes your ruined panties and cleans up the cum running down your inner thighs. After fetching you a set of new underwear, he finds the last of his strength for the night and scoops you up, moving only a few feet to the comfort of your twin-sized mattress. Isagi tucks you in slightly, leaving enough room for him to slide in when he changes into a new pair of bottoms.
"You're too nice to be an ass, I guess." You reply, tracing small patterns onto his chest.
He slings an arm over you, pulling you closer, and lets one of your legs rest over his stomach. "Hey, I can be mean when I want to!" Isagi shoots back.
Your chuckles send vibrations down his chest. "So, are you going to tell your friends about tonight?"
"Fuck no," Isagi presses another kiss to your head again and tightens his grip around you. "I don't even want to know what they do with that information." There's a pause and he blinks. "Are you going to tell anyone?"
You stay quiet for a while and Isagi groans, knowing the exact person you were going to text when the opportunity arrives. "Just Rin! You know that we're best friends, right?"
Ugh, he doesn't really want his rival to know about his sex life but he can't exactly stop you from talking about these types of things to your childhood friend. Isagi rubs circles into your back and pouts slightly. "Keep the details to a minimum."
"No promises, Yoichi." But he knows that you're only joking. And even if you did spew all the details to Rin, at least Isagi can sleep peacefully at night knowing that the other male minds own his business.
A yawn escapes from your lips and you snuggle deeper against his body. "Do you have a busy day tomorrow?"
"Nah, everything's pretty much wrapped up for me." He responds, feeling the fatigue catching up as well. "Did you want me to stay over again tomorrow?"
"Only if you promise to add a pack of condoms to the shopping list."
He smiles, jotting down the mental note before shutting his eyes. "Anything for you, baby."
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another note: hehe ty for making it this far!! idk why i named it seven minutes in heaven bc it has nothing to do w the game but lets just say the whole sex experience lasted seven mins bc that's p normal for first time ig??
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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 2 months
Text
Wriothesley — the art of body language
cw: feat neuvillette, references to neuvi's story quest (sorry, i just finished it, loved it very much) other than that nothing rlly, just fluff
an: i cant believe i havent written anything for wrio yet??? thats unacceptable, considering i main him (and jing yuan too, all because ono daisuke voices them... jotaro brainrot goes crazy)
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It had come to Iudex Neuvillette's attention that there is still much he needs to learn about the enigma that are humans. Following his recent revelations as to his role in Fontaine and relationship with its citizens, he thought it'd be nice if he gets to know them better.
It hadn't escaped his knowledge that sometimes, things would fly over his head. Things said in jest, he ends up taking seriously before realizing at a later time that it was in good humor.
Sometimes, he doesn't realize that his silence had ended up causing the other party feel awkward, and even then, he doesn't know what to do or talk about when they do.
And so, he started by studying the little things. Their expressions, their body language—It had first came up in a conversation with the head nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, Sigewinne.
During one of her rare vacations where she visits the overworld and checks on the Chief Justice in worry that he may be overworking himself again.
Sigewinne talks about the things she has learned from observing the expressions from the workers in the Fortress, and with her observant gaze, she notices just how interested the Chief Justice seems even if from an outsider's point of view, he just looks like he's sporting the same, neutral expression.
At that, Sigewinne brought it upon herself to share the things that she has learned, but he can see the slight furrow on Neuvillette's brow, his fingers on his chin, deep in thought as he tries to picture out the expressions that she's describing.
Thinking to herself, the head nurse thinks of someone that she can describe well enough but also someone that Neuvillette knows fairly well to help him picture out what she's saying—and one person easily comes to mind.
"Take His Grace, for example." Sigewinne mentions, and the Iudex looks up with his eyes widening the slightest bit.
"Wriothesley?" He echoes.
"Yeah!" The melusine chirps happily, smiling widely at Neuvillette.
"If you show him that one human you always send from the Gardes, you can notice a few things from his body language that you wouldn't notice if you're not looking closely."
Which leads to the mentioned Duke now sitting in Neuvillette's office in Palais Mermonia, a tea cup in hand. After all, if Neuvillette were to learn, it'd be better if he sees it for himself, no?
Wriothesley was in the middle of his sentence when a knock reverberates in the room, coming from the door to the entrance to the office. Still holding onto his teacup, the Duke glances at the door, before looking back at the man before him, not surprised by the knock at the very least, as if he had been expecting it.
"Monsieur," Wriothesley spoke in his usual polite tone towards the Chief Justice, "Are we expecting someone else?"
His icy gaze are calculating as they meet Neuvillette's gaze, the Iudex shaking his head, sighing as he looks back to meet the man's calculating gaze.
"Pardon me, it's just some business. It'll be quick." Neuvillette apologizes politely, to which Wriothesley nods and shrugs, taking a sip from his tea cup. Taking that as his 'go ahead' signal, the judge turns his head to his office door and spoke.
"Please, come in."
Neuvillette was quick to glance at Wriothesley from the corner of his eyes as the door opens. And as you came into view, he notices the way the Duke's eyes widened slightly in surprise, quietly choking on his tea but managing to gather himself again in a split second.
"Chief Justice." You spoke in a formal, polite tone, eyes glued to the man who nods in return, before you eventually noticed the other person in the room.
Again, Neuvillette observes Wriothesley.
"Your Grace," You also greet the Chief Justice's guest politely.
True to Sigewinne's words, The Lord Incognito sat with his back a little straighter, his chest puffing out as he oh so gently puts his tea cup down on its saucer, his voice laced with a tad bit of warmth as he spoke your name in greeting.
"Is it a bad time?" You asked, eyes glancing over the tea cups laid on the table between the two men, "I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting."
But before Neuvillette could reassure you that you weren't at fault, and that it was all his for having called for you, Wriothesley was quick to respond.
"Nonsense," Wriothesley didn't even hesitate to reassure you that he doesn't mind, a small genuine smile gracing his lips. "We're just sharing some words over tea, would you like a cup?"
"Thank you, Your Grace. But I couldn't possibly." You respond as you take steps closer, closing the door behind you as you fully enter the office.
"I insist." Wriothesley hums, already reaching out for a third tea cup that has been conveniently brought out by Neuvillette despite the fact that there were only two of them.
You raise your hand, about to protest but was cut off by the Chief Justice, your boss himself.
"You're no strangers to each other, please do share a cup," Neuvillette spoke as he looked at you with a nod before standing up from his seat. "Excuse me while I look for the file that our latest convict needs—I seem to have mixed it with other files."
An obvious lie. The Chief Justice is a neat person, everything has a place and everything is in their rightful place, but neither of them questioned it as Neuvillette offers his seat to you before moving over towards his desk where the paperworks to process the latest criminal lay.
He took this opportunity to study the scene before him, as he pretends to shuffle papers here and there.
Diluted pupils. Eye contact. Mirroring your actions. A smile never leaving his face. Leaning on the table. And.... uh huh. That's the third time Wriothesley tried to fix his hair in the past five minutes.
Neuvillette blinks as he observes the way the Duke handles himself around your presence, and he is sure that if Wriothesley had a tail, it'd be wagging happily right about now.
Eventually, the Iudex returned to rejoin your small party. A small smile was plastered on both your and the Duke's faces as you engaged in your own little world, both pairs of eyes landing on him as he penetrated your little bubble.
"I've found it," He spoke in his usual neutral tone, and you gave him a nod.
The ever gentleman that he is, Neuvillette thought nothing of it as his hands moved with sophisticated grace, pulling your chair out for you and offering you his hand to help you stand. He was just being polite. And being used to his actions, you didn't hesitate to take his hand as you stood. But...
Ah.
Neuvillete can't help but notice Wriothesley's gaze fixated on your hand in his grasp, the smile on his face gone, just his pale, icy gaze staring a hole into the Chief Justice's fingers around your hand.
Tense. On guard. Almost reminiscent of a guard dog meeting a stranger and gauging whether they are a threat or not.
Interesting.
The man let go of your hand to give you the paperwork you had come for, giving you another nod, your gazes now locked with each other's.
"Here you go,"
"Thank you, Monseiur."
You receive the files, opening your mouth to bid your farewell to both men in the room when the sound of the chair sliding against the floor sounded, and both your attention snapped towards Wriothesley who was letting out a loud sigh.
"Ah, would you look at the time?" Wriothesley suddenly announces loudly, as if making sure both of their attentions are on him. "It's getting late."
Neuvillette's head subtly tilts to the side in curiosity at Wriothesley's sudden actions. Trying to figure out what has the man so tense, quietly thinking to himself.
Is this what they call envy? No, envy isn't precisely the correct term...
Ah. Jealousy. That's the term.
"I should get going. Thank you for this afternoon, Monsieur Neuvillette." The Duke spoke, approaching the both of you, snapping the said man out of his thoughts, who turned to face him.
"The pleasure was all mine. I'm grateful for your time as well," The Chief Justice responds,
"I'll be on my way as well," You spoke your farewells to your boss, and Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley turned to face you this time, speaking your name in a soft tone.
"You'll be escorting an inmate to the Fortress, no?" Wriothesley spoke with a slight hint of amusement in his voice, his eyes on you as you nodded to confirm his questions.
"I am, but I'd have to pick them up first." You respond as you turn to walk towards the exit, Wriothesley hot on your heels like a puppy happily following its owner
"I'll go with you, then."
"That might not be a good idea, Your Grace. They might get intimidated."
"Well, they'll just have to deal with it, won't they? They'll be seeing more of me in Fortress of Meropide; they should get used to it."
Neuvillette watched your exchange, the Duke opening the door for you, closing it behind him, and your voices became muffled. The Hydro Sovereign stands in place, placing a hand on his chin as he thinks.
"And what kind of emotion does Wriothesley portray when around them?" Neuvillette had asked Sigewinne after she happily detailed every minuscule movement that Wriothesley does consciously and unconsciously in your presence.
"That is what humans refer to as romantic love." Sigewinne beams up happily at him, and he nods, making sure to make an internal note of that.
"So that was love." Neuvillette nods to himself, eyes still glued to the door where you and Wriothesley exited. Funnily enough, Wriothesley wasn't the only one he ended up observing.
From his observations, he can quickly tell that you had the same body language as the Duke throughout your entire conversation, a stark contrast to your more rigid and mechanical body language when speaking to him.
That day, oh so casually, the Chief Justice confirmed and gave his judgment on both of you based on the observed facts.
"They're in love with each other." Neuvillette concluded.
"And neither of them know."
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indigosunsetao3 · 3 months
Text
Protecting You
Your life, or safety, is threatened in front of one of the COD guys. How do they react to that?
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Female reader perspective Warning: Unwanted advances, assault, roofie, torture, abusive ex
I noted each blurb for what would be featured for each person. Please make sure you check that before you read it.
Alex Unwanted Advances
"I'm fine really," you mutter as the man next to you at the bar insists on buying you another drink. You had turned him down twice now, sipping lightly on the still half-full glass you had.
"Come on, just one drink and if you think I'm that bad I'll leave you alone," he prods, waving the bartender over.
"Or you could leave me alone now," you tack on, looking over your shoulder for someone, anyone, to rescue you.
"Two of whatever she's having," the guy orders over your protests to the bartender to not make you one. The bartender doesn't catch it though, too busy helping the crowded bar and the music a little too loud to really hear.
"See not so bad," the guy grins before reaching out to grab at your hand which you quickly snatch away. "Oh come on, I'm not going to hurt you," he teases and reaches again.
"I believe she said she wasn't interested," a cool voice says from behind you. Looking over your shoulder you see another man on your left, leaning lightly on the bar glaring at the man next to you. He looks simple enough. About your age in a casual shirt and jeans but something behind his easy smile reeks of predator. Not for you though, but for the man who won't leave you be.
"It's none of your business," the guy snaps trying to literally grab your attention again by grabbing at your arm. "We're perfectly fine."
That's all it took. In the midst of you twisting away and telling the guy to just stop the man intervenes. He grabs your harassers wrist with lethal speed and twists it hard so his whole upper body contorts with the movement into the bar.
The glass from the drink your rescuer had just finished coming down to slam on the man's fingers. Hard enough that the glass shatters and the guy shrieks in pain as the stranger continues to hold the grip right on a pressure point.
"This should teach you to keep your hands to yourself," the man states, sliding his hand away to wipe on the small drink napkin. His movement so casual as if this were normal for him.
"Are you fucking crazy!" The guy yells dragging his arm back and staring at the bloody sticky mess of his hand. The glass shards had nicked a few of his fingers and he was screaming about how he would fuck you and this man up. Meanwhile the bartender was summoning the bar security not wanting a full on brawl to start and before you knew it all three of you were tossed out.
"Sorry about that," comes your rescuers voice as you both watch the other man head down the street with a few of his friends. "I couldn't sit there and listen anymore. I didn't mean for you to get kicked out into the cold," he grins a bit, then shivers as the wind rips right through both of you.
"No need to be sorry," you answer simply looking at him. "You didn't have to do that you know. But thank you..." you pause for an invitation for him to give you his name.
"Alex," he says with a small smile. "And no need to thank me. I wasn't going to just sit there and let him continue to hound you."
"Alex," you say with a nod trying to commit the name to memory. You doubted you would forget it though.
"Is your car around here?" Alex asks suddenly staring across the street. The men had stopped at the street corner and were watching the two of you.
"Ah, I walked from work," you answer. "I don't live too far," you tack on following his gaze to the men. "I'm sure it'll be fine..."
"I'll walk you home," Alex says after a second. "Or get you a taxi. I don't want you out here alone with them." He turns to look at you giving a small smile as you look up at him. "I promise I'm not a creep," he laughs a bit.
"We....we can walk," you venture after a second. "I feel like I owe you a drink after all that anyway. I think I've still got some left over tequila in the back of my cabinet." You aren't sure exactly why but you feel like you can trust him. "And if I thought you were a creep I'd be gone by now."
"You don't owe me anything," Alex says with a laugh before gesturing you to walk before shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes sliding over to the men across the street to keep them always in his view as you go. "But I wouldn't turn down a nightcap, though tequila can be dangerous." He winks as you both hustle to cross the street.
Yes it can be, you silently agree with a small thrill.
Gaz Assault
Maybe staying to watch one more episode was a bad idea. You really should have let your friend drive you home but you lived all the way across town and the train would be there soon enough. So tucking your purse tight against your side you head toward the train station. It's dark out, darker than normal since it's a new moon, and the shadows seem extra long as you hurry down the street.
When you round the corner to the alley you'd normally take as a short cut you spot a group of people halfway down it The alley cut five minutes off the walk and was usually fine by day, just dirty. But at night it was ominous and the people standing on the end blended a little too well into the dark. You debated on what to do before deciding to just walk through. You knew the area, knew how to handle yourself and it was cold.
Just as you pass you realize it's a group of about four men and the minute they realize you are alone it starts. The catcalls, the jeers, the simple 'where you going sweetheart?' questions. You've heard them all before and the best thing to do is ignore it and keep walking. But they follow. You mutter a no thanks, you're fine and every other placating thing you know to do. But it doesn't let up.
Just as you're about to clear the alley a hand juts out to grab you by the back of your jacket and you scream. They've dragged you back and are taunting you about being rude and they just wanted to talk. Your reactions a bit slow thanks to the wine you had drunk but you shove them back and one hit on a man's chest lands hard enough that a guy goes flying backward. You blink trying to figure out how you managed that until you realize someone else had shown up.
In a series of grunts and groans the men are swiftly dealt with. One having to be hoisted up by his friends before they all jog out of the alleyway. You have your back pressed up against the wall as your savior turns to look at you and you flinch a bit not sure what they want. If he was able to take on four guys on his own who knew what else he could do.
"You alright?" The man asks as he straightens his jacket and looks to where the attackers disappeared to.
"Yes, I think so," you stammer out as you wipe at your face not realizing you've been crying. "Thank you, where did you even come from?" You ask looking around to spot a door open and now that you aren't screaming you can hear music coming from it.
"I was headed out for a smoke when I heard you," the man answers. "I'm inside with a few friends. Do you want to come in and join us? Get warmed up a bit, it's freezing out here," he gives you a soft smile as you continue to press your back against the wall.
"I was on my way to the train station," you start but the warm yellow light of the restaurant seems to be beckoning you. Walking the rest of the way to the train station seemed like a monumental task now and you were afraid to be alone.
"I take the train myself," he answers. "Come in for a bit and we can go together, yeah?" He gestures for the door where another man has poked his head out to see where his friend had gone missing.
"I, ah," you hesitate for just a second longer. "Sure alright," you finish as the man in the doorway looks between the two of you.
"Everything alright out here Gaz?" The guy asks, his Scottish accent strong, as he takes in the scene.
"All good," Gaz answers as he follows you to the door. "Just dealing with a little issue," he explains and in the light of the door you can see his knuckles are bloody as he gestures you inside.
"A little issue?" You almost squeak as he grabs a few napkins from the bar top and wipes his hands down. "You took on four men...for a stranger."
"I wasn't going to just leave you out there," Gaz replies with a small smile. "Besides, that was barely a warm up," he winks and pulls a chair out for you to join his group of friends who are all watching your curiously.
Ghost Roofie
You've had way too much to drink. It was a celebration party for your friends recent job promotion and it was so rare you let your hair down you decided to go all out. It had been a bar crawl, wandering from one loud crowded place to the next. By the time you got to the fourth place (maybe it was the fifth place?) you were stumbling a bit.
Giving the bouncer your ID you swayed a bit in your spot while he looked it over with his flashlight and eyed you. After a second he nodded to let you in and you slipped inside. This place was packed, people jammed up against one another as the music blared and by the time you finished your latest drink you were feeling light headed and most of your body was numb.
"Careful," a voice says next to you as you sidestep and nearly fall. Hands had caught you around the waist and you look up at the man who was grinning at you. Who was he? Fuck where had your friends gotten off to? "I think you may need to sit for a minute," he suggests taking the empty glass from your tingling fingers and you nod. Yes, sitting would be good.
"I just need to find my friends," you say as you look around the place but it's just a swarm of bodies, their faces all a blur. "Let me just," you start reaching for your phone.
"Let's get you outside where it's cooler then you can call them," the guy says, his arm still tight around you. "You're very flushed," he gives you a sweet smile and you nod again. You really did feel overheated, maybe that's why you felt so dizzy and uncoordinated.
You let the guy guide you toward the door before a hand shoots out of nowhere blocking the exit to the alley. You blink once, twice, swaying a bit as the guy helping you walk halts. This second man is huge, impossibly huge, as he holds his ground glaring at the two of you. It takes a second to register then you realize exactly who it is. You hadn't seen him in a while and your brain was so muddled the connection almost didn't click.
"Simon?" You ask, laughing a bit at the odds of him being here of all places. "When did you get back into town? Where's Johnny?" You inquire looking over your shoulder expecting to see your friend standing there. You giggle a bit as you lose your footing again but Simon's hand catches your bicep.
"I know what you fucking did," Simon says and you splutter. You hadn't done anything, what was his problem? Then you realize he isn't talking to you, he's talking to the guy that was attempting to lead you outside. "And so do the bouncers," he nods his head at the guy that had been working the door pushes through the crowd toward you all. "You're lucky there are too many witnesses or I'd snap your goddamn neck," Simon breathes as he pulls you toward him as the guy lets you go finally. The malice in his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you try to figure out why Simon was so mad.
"Let's go, love," Simon says after a second pushing the door open to the alley as the bouncer grabs the guy you were with. "I'm going to take you home," he explains as he sees you staring at him confused. "With me," he adds after a second as you continue walking, "you shouldn't be alone right now."
What did that even mean? You'd recovered from hangovers just fine in the past. Sure, they were miserable and you laid on the bathroom floor for hours but you were very much capable of paying for your poor decisions. You don't have a chance to question though as your surroundings start to spin. You groan a bit beginning to feel sick, the fun of being drunk was rapidly fading and was instead replaced by a sickening unease.
Time and memory seemed to warp and next thing you know Simon is tucking you gently into the passenger seat of his car. He's already got the engine running and cool air is blasting on you helping to dissipate some of nausea. It takes you a second to realize his hands are holding your face up to stare at him. His face his a hard mask as he assesses you and you feel him reach for your pulse, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. He's not happy with what he finds based on his reaction.
"Simon?" You ask a bit pathetically as your hands reach for him to grip his shirt. You know something is definitely not right and now the fear is settling in. Your lip trembles as you try to lock in your focus but everything feels like it's slipping away like holding water in your hands.
"I've got you," he answers, not flinching as you grasp at him. "You're safe with me," he assures you as his hand pushes your hair off your face where it had begun to stick to the sweat there.
"I know," you reply even though you barely knew him. You'd only met him a few times when Johnny brought him back on his leaves. You had been intrigued by him but he always stayed an arms length away. Friendly but closed off. Johnny said that's just how he was when you asked, though you caught the mischievous look he gave you when you asked about Simon a few more times.
"How did you..." you mumble, your fingers twisting up the fabric on his chest to hold on tight. You were afraid if you let go you'd just fall into the nothingness that was threatening to take you under.
"Johnny told me you were going out with friends tonight. I wanted to see you again," he ventures knowing you won't remember all of this in the morning. "I lost track of you in that stupid bar and by the time I found you again," he pauses to keep his temper in check, loosing a calming breath. "I should have said something sooner to you. Not let you be alone."
"I wanted to see you too," you let slip before shutting your eyes as the drugs finally took you under.
Price Torture
The mission had gone absolutely sideways. What should have been a relatively simple extraction turned out to be an ambush and you had lost two team members. They had opted to take you captive instead of killing you, hoping to get information out of you.
Four days of psychological torture. No sleeping, every time you tried they'd wake you up with loud noises after only twenty minutes. Only enough food to keep you from passing out and barely any water. The room they held you in was freezing and wet, no bed and a bucket for waste.
Perhaps the worst part though was the absolute silence. There was no noise aside from the damned dripping pipe that kept your room damp. You couldn't hear planes, cars or even a bird. The only way you knew time had passed was watching the shadows move across the wall from the small slit of a window a few feet up the wall.
You were supposed to check in with Price, he was the rendezvous drop off for your target. So, despite your team being dead, there was someone out there that knew you were missing. That was the only thing that kept you hopeful for a way out.
On day five the leader of the group enters your cell with an ominous look on his face. You don't back down as he grabs your shackled wrists and slams you down on the chair he's brought in. You twist and fight as one of his men ties you down earning a sharp slap across the face.
"Tell us about John Price," the man demands as he squats down to get in your face.
"I," you pause confused, "what?" This was not what you were expecting to be questioned about. "What about John Price? What does he have to do with me?' You question feeling your heartbeat kick up a bit.
"You were meeting him, tell us," the man demands as he fishes a lethal looking knife from his pocket and flicks it open. "Tell us and I'll make it quick," he smirks as he traces the knife slowly down your arm with just enough pressure to make a small stream of blood appear in it's wake.
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," you answer still a bit perplexed. "He's a man? He's a Captain?" Another resounding slap snaps your head sideways and you taste blood as you work your jaw before sitting back up again. "You need to ask better questions because I don't know what you want." You have an idea what they may want but there was no way they were getting anything out of you.
"Funny," the man says as he grabs your jaw to shake your face and pulls your focus back on him. "Tell us why he was involved in your extraction."
You don't give it up though. The men continue to abuse you, cutting at your skin, battering your face and nearly suffocating you with their hands only to bring you back right when you are about to pass out. It hurts to blink and you spit out a mess of drool and blood when they finally relent for now. The shadows on the wall are long so you know they had been at it for hours.
They leave you tied to the chair and you tilt forward trying to get some sleep. You were hoping they were occupied trying to decipher your run around answers to not notice you were taking a nap. Your sleep is deep but it doesn't last long as a hand lifts your head back up from where it was lolled against your shoulder. You jolt up in the dark and flinch back from the touch.
"It's me," a man says as you blink in the dark groaning a bit. "It's John," the familiar deep gravel of a voice clicks into place and you unclench the fists you had made unconsciously.
"John?" You splutter out trying to look around the room. It's too dark for you to see anything, the stark opposite of how they usually kept it in their methods of keeping you awake. "How'd you know where I was? " You pause realizing you also had no idea where you were. "Where am I exactly?"
"They picked a shit location to try and hide you," he says with a small chuckle as the tip of metal knife slides around your wrists to cut the bonds away. "Abandoned oil field, too open and easy to gain access," he says as he bends down to undo your feet. "Team's got the guards at the gates occupied for a few more minutes," he says before you hear the rustle of him putting the knife away. "Can you walk?"
"I think so?" You mutter as your hand reaches up to touch your puffy eye before you flinch at how tender it is. "They mostly focused on my face, don't need that for walking." You try an attempt to joke but based on Price's silence it falls flat. You can feel the anger roiling off him, though his touch is soft as he surveys the rest of your body for injuries. His fingers brush over the tender skin of your throat and you know it has to be black and blue with how rough they had been.
"How many are there left?" You ask as you rally your strength to stand up, you'd be no help in a fight right now. If you were quick maybe you could sneak out without anyone being the wiser.
"None left in this building," Price says as he gently grabs you under the armpits to help you stand. You look at him shocked, there were at least ten of them that you knew of. Once you're fully standing you grab his clothed forearms to steady yourself. You can feel something warm and wet on your fingertips, without seeing it you know it's blood. "Hunted the whole crew down before I came to find you. Amazing what a halligan can do to some skulls," he says darkly.
"Alone?" You ask as Price tucks one of your hands into the strap of his vest so he can guide you. You can hear him raise his gun as he moves out of the room. The thought of him taking on the men that killed your team by himself sends a jolt of fear down your spine. The risk alone was too great, especially since they were hunting him specifically.
"I do know how to take care myself," Price answers though there is a hint of amusement in his voice. "Couldn't wait on the team to catch up. I wasn't going to leave you in here another minute with them, love."
Soap Abusive Ex
"Get out!" You yell as your ex storms into the apartment from where he had hidden waiting for you to open the door to get a delivery. He's ranting and raving about indiscretions you made against him. How you screwed him over and were the reason he was failing at everything in his life. Everything was your fault, it was always your fault, and he was here to finally put a stop to ruining things for him.
The text to Soap had been quick, a subtle message sent with just two words. Help me. You didn't bother reaching out to the authorities, they never helped. Always saying there was nothing they could do despite the fact your ex had been escalating. First it was simple calling and texting nonstop. Then the letters shoved under your front door. Moving onto showing up at your job so security had to escort him out. Now this.
"What is this?" Your ex asks as he pulls a hooded sweater from underneath the blanket on the couch. Soap had stayed over nights when you had been afraid to be alone, sleeping on the couch. It was innocent, mostly, because you were too afraid to try and move on. Not that it mattered if it wasn't, you and your ex had been over for months. "Who's is this?" He advances on you.
"It doesn't matter," you answer backing up against the dining room table. "You need to get out of my house right now," you argue looking over his shoulder.
"It's his isn't it?" He shakes the hoodie at your face as he gets uncomfortably close. "That fucking Scot that I told you to stop talking to," he shoves you.
"What does it matter?" You fight back before gasping at the shove, the table biting into your lower back. He pushes you again before shoving you bodily to the floor to hover over you. "Please, just get out," you say as you try to back peddle on your hands to put some space between you and him.
"I'm not going anywhere," he snarls and moves to grab you by the hair when the front door bangs open. Five minutes. Soap got to you in five minutes. You weren't sure how he was able to get there in that short amount of time but you don't question it.
Your ex paused to look over his shoulder at the noise and that was enough time for Soap to clear the living room and grab him. He's hoisted up and back by the collar of his shirt and bodily tossed away from you. Soap moves to stand between you and him. A silent form of protection as he looks at the man who's on his ass staring at Soap with murder in his eyes.
"I wouldn't try it," Soap warns the guy with a small smirk as your ex stands back up and forms his hands into fists. "I've been waiting for fucking weeks to do this. It's only because of her you haven't had your ass handed to you before now."
You've stood up now, rubbing absently at your back as you keep your distance behind Soap. You're terrified as Soap cocks his head to the side assess the situation. It's not fear for Soap's safety, you know he can handle himself, but because of everything that just happened. Your ex doesn't take the warning and lunges for Soap.
It's over in a matter of seconds. Soap has him pinned on the ground with his knee in your ex's neck. Your ex is spluttering on the carpet with a bloody lip and busted nose, his free hand scrambling for purchase while Soap twists the other one behind him.
"I'm sorry, I can't fucking hear you," Soap hisses as he bends his head down closer to your ex's face. Your ex is actually squealing with pain as Soap twists his arm further back. If it goes any more you know the shoulder will pop out of the socket and you wince. This isn't exactly what you wanted, at least on a surface level. Yet you knew deep down calling Soap to help would somehow end in your ex receiving some sort of a beat down. Soap had been threatening it for some time now.
"I'm sorry! I'll go!" Your ex finally yells out before groaning as Soap gives his arm one last good yank before letting go and standing up.
"Get the fuck out," Soap says as he stands and moves to put himself between you and your ex again just to be safe. "And leave her alone. If I hear you keep coming round it won't be just me you'll have to deal with."
Your ex leaves with a slam of the door, muttering empty threats about calling the police. In the ringing silence you feel your knees buckle and you grab the table as you start to sob. It had all been so overwhelming and terrifying you don't know another way to process everything.
"Shh, lass," Soap says quietly, his tone turning into the soft gentle one that you knew. The aggressive Soap you had just witnessed was something he hadn't shown you. Sure you heard stories but seeing it live was a whole other story. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he says as he gently coaxes you into his arms and plants a kiss on the top of your head.
"Can you stay?" You ask after long minutes of silence as Soap rubs your back, still holding you. "I don't want...if he comes back," you mumble, the anxiety dreaming up different scenarios of him escalating it.
"Of course," he answers, "couch sort of has my name on it anyhow." He chuckles a bit spotting his sweatshirt there then realizes that's probably what set your ex off in a tirade. He had forgotten it that morning.
"Stay with me," you say after a second, letting him fill in that blank of what exactly you were requesting. "I don't want to be alone," you tack on in explanation as Soap raises his eyebrows.
It had been going this way for a while now but your fear of your ex had always put a stop to it. You'd been afraid of how he'd react and what he would do if he found out. Soap remained ever patient and understanding through it all and after tonight you were tired of waiting.
"Whatever you want lass," Soap answers but you can feel him smiling as he presses another kiss to your temple.
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cheriladycl01 · 6 months
Text
The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 1
Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula one into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookie within the 2022 line up!
Credit to macrazylive for the GIF
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"We have had some amazing announcements this year. We only have two rookies on the grid this year that have a confirmed seat both in Alfa Romeo. So it should be an interesting season for them!" the first reporter says while walking around the paddock.
"Yes, its very uncommon to see a team take on two rookies in the same season, so it'll be interesting to see if they under perform based on these statistics or not" the other one admits.
Currently you were sat with Zhou your current team mate, he was teaching you a little bit of Chinese at your request.
"Are you nervous for today?" you ask him, you'd both done lots of media over the break so people could get to know you before the season start in Bahrain had begun.
"A little, but we will drive the very best that we can. I know it" he says pulling you into a side hug. You'd gotten very close to your team mate, both being rookies on the same team made you both sort of outcasts on the grid. Today would be your first time talking to the other 18 drivers.
"We'll be fine i promise" he says before walking towards his car in the Alpha Romeo garage, you walk over to your race engineer Paul and go through the different strategies to make sure you know what each one means.
"Okay, its time for your first race, you got this. Remember your starting P11 and Zhou is starting P15. So you just got to make up some pace, and you'll be in points region. Get a good start, and overtake Esteban while defending from Mick, Lando may help you with that but you'll need to then defend from him" he advices and you nod. You take your helmet that your best friend designed for you on place it over your head.
Paul, taps the back of your helmet covered head, before bumping fits with you. You pull yourself into the car under the halo before placing the wheel on.
"Okay, lets go and grab some points" Paul says after he'd checked the radio to make sure you had good connection.
At the start lights you had an impeccable start going wide on the outside of Ocon and Gasly and moving into 9th place. Lando had managed to overtake Mick and was gaining.
"Amazing start Y/N P9 as of now. George ahead, attempt overtake at turn 4. He's 0.4 seconds ahead" you hear your race engineer point out. You can see the Mercedes ahead, and going into turn for you go for the risky move and break later than George. You gave him enough room and he swung wide, not wanting to damage the car giving you a gap to get through.
"What's this Martin! Y/N is storming through this track, starting in P11 and she's already made her way up to P8 taking over drivers who have been in F1 much longer than her. This is some incredible driving we are seeing"
Eventually you had to pit, but it was an exceptionally fast pit-stop that was well timed from your team and had you coming out behind Gasly . You went a few laps, dancing around with him where you both had the pace, but the minute your tires warmed up and his had worn out enough you ploughed on ahead creating a large time gap along the straight.
"You've got Alonso ahead, 1.2 second gap, lets close it on those Sector 2 corners" Paul directs. In no time you make your way up to P6, Magnussen was ahead in P5.
"How many laps left? Can i catch him?" you ask your engineer.
"2 seconds ahead and 10 laps, you can catch him if you speed up Sector 1" he advises. You put you head to it, and managed to overtake.
"This is insane Alfa Romeo are storming this season along with Ferrari, right now, we have Charles Leclerc in P1, Carlos Sainz in P2, Lewis Hamilton in P3 and oh what is this, its NOT, i repeat NOT a double finish for Mercedes, Y/N has overtaken George Russell even on the older tires. And her counter part in Alfa Romeo is in P9 this is an amazing start to the season for the two Ferrari teams"
"AND THAT'S IT CHARLES LECLERC HAS COME FIRST AT BAHRAIN, SAINZ IN SECOND, HAMILTON IN THIRD"
"You've done it Y/N that's P4 we now have 14 points at the starts of the season!" Paul voices. You pull up jumping out your car and hugging everyone.
"I don't think i could have done it if Max and Checo finished, they would have come ahead of me!" you admit, you pull your helmet off balaclava coming off with it. The top bit of your hair was sheened with sweat. You run your hands through it trying to get some more volume through it.
"You'll be in an interview with the TOP 5, from today" Fred says patting your back, he guides you to where the interviews out there.
"Oh Carlos, Charles come say hello to Y/N you haven't met her yet!" Fred offers you up and the two Ferrari boys come over.
"Wow, you are more beautiful in real life than you are in your driver picture!" Carlos says taking your hand and kissing it, a blush coming onto your face.
"You are a fantastic rookie!" Charles compliments pulling you into a hug before offering you up his water. You nod realizing you hadn't picked yours up from the garage.
"Thank you, I'm dying" you joke, and sky from his Ferrari bottle before handing it back to him.
"Omg that's Lewis Hamilton" you whisper looking over at the 7 time world champion that was ahead of you.
"Why didn't we get that reaction mi hermosa?" Carlos asks, and you blush.
"It's Lewis Hamilton!" you say just looking at him in awe.
"Hey great race today Y/L/N. Haven't seen a rookie like you since myself"
"Oh my god" you says in awe. He pulls you into a hug and starts to ask you questions, while Carlos keeps interrupting.
"Well its actually funny because I've been watching you for the last two years in F2" Carlos says as Lewis asks you what prior championships you'd won and how you'd got your seat in Alfa Romeo.
"Oh, you did?" you ask.
"Yeah I actually came to the garage one time, not yours but i was there!"
"That's cool man, I also kept up with her career. I just like to ask so people can gloat about their own achievements, its good for the soul" he smiled a little awkwardly at Carlos and his sudden need to prove that he, knew you better? Is that what that was?
"Come on guys, time for interviews" one of the directors call, George, Lewis and Charles start to walk through but Carlos grabs your hand and holds you back.
"Come out with me tonight, to celebrate?" he asks, however your PR manager comes out and pulls you away from him.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall
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oracle-of-dream · 4 months
Text
Photo Finisher
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Minors DNI
Summary: Yechan is from the rookie idol group, 82Majors, and his managers have set him up in the studio to get some amazing photos. But he's heard of your other prizes for good behavior, so he's interested in your other services...
Warnings: Male Reader, Blowjob, facial, degradation, domYechan, cum eating
Wordcount: 1.7k
You spent your morning selecting the songs for the playlist vibe you needed for today's photoshoot. Rookie idols were always tricky to deal with. Most were scared so stiff that they could hardly count as models...
Today, Yechan from 82Majors was your muse. The appointment was a last-minute order from management, and someone must've paid a chunk of money to call you in before noon. It's a part of your contract that you don't have to work before noon without an extra fee determined based on your mood for the day. It was 8am, so you told your boss to push for 40% higher than your usual rate. This usually moved companies away to pick a later time, but your boss immediately texted you back, telling you to get ready.
It was ten minutes before the photoshoot was supposed to start. Your staff set up everything from lights, cameras, software, and canvases. There was murmuring in the prep room, which is the room before entering the main studio, which meant the client had arrived. After some time, likely for hair and makeup to work him over, a young man with brown hair and strong cheekbones entered and greeted you.
"Hello, photographer y/n. It's a pleasure to be working with you, and thank you so much for taking our call so late minute." He bowed deeply.
"Yeah, hi. Just called me, y/n. Photographer y/n is a little much."
The boy nodded. "I-I'm Yechan, from 82Major!"
"I know who you are. I read the paperwork," you replied dryly.
Your morning coffee hadn't kicked in yet... This was going to be an extremely rough morning.
Yechan took his time to go around to the rest of the staff and introduce himself to each of them, handing out small gift bags from his company.
You looked at your phone for the time. 8AM.
"Okay, that's enjoy chitchat. I'm already at 30% on the irritated scale, and being behind schedule will make it jump to 50%."
With your clear directions, everyone hopped to attention and started scrambling to their stations. Yechan hustled off to get his hair and makeup re-touched before stepping onto the canvas.
"Yechan, if you have any issues or questions with the photos, tell me. The one thing I hate more than waking up early is someone who can't speak on issues.
Yechan nodded eagerly and took followed directions beautifully. Every single angle, down to the degree, was perfect. Clearly practiced. Because of that, you managed to wrap up the first set of photos easily.
"Let's take 10 and switch outfits. We're making excellent time, so let's keep the pace up." You announced to the team.
As you went back to your studio chair, Yechan approached you meekly.
"Yes?" you asked without looking at him, more interested in your phone.
"Um... I'd like to ask you about your services, sir." Yechan mumbled.
You rolled your eyes before looking at him. "My services? I'm a photographer. I take pictures. Be clear about what you want."
"Okay, then I'll be straightforward." Yechan took a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like to please you."
You raised an eye. "Please me? I'm happy enough that we're ahead of schedule. You want me to be happy? Keep working hard."
Yechan shook his head. "I don't know if there's some sort of secret code or something... it's honestly a little embarrassing to just say, you know."
You giggled in your seat, finally looking up from your phone. Yechan was a pretty good-looking man. Knows his angles, good body proportions, and a face card that doesn't look like it'll decline with its high limit. You bet he was about 6 1/2 inches, with a left curve. You read that he was from Canada and the brother of another idol, but you can't remember the brother's name...
You sat back in your chair. "Do you mean you want to have sex with me, boy?"
Yechan's face got pink instantly. "Well, they said you were really frank. But I still didn't–"
"So it's a no?"
"It's a yes! I do want to have... s–sex with you."
You smiled. "And what did you have in mind, young man?" The age gap between you wasn't big, but you could tell he was melting from you treating him like he's the younger in this situation.
"I want to do whatever makes you happy."
"So you have no plan? That's not very well prepared of you."
"I'm pretty skilled though! I got a few tricks!"
You smiled bigger. "Tricks? And what if I refuse? Yechan's face turned white. He clearly didn't consider the possibility of you saying no to him. "You didn't think I was some prostitute, did you? That you could just say, sex, and I'll give it?"
He shook his head, "No! Of course not–I'd never think that."
"Then tell me, what would you want? If you can have anything from this."
He looked around before getting closer to whisper. "Um... If I could choose. I think I'd be really into cumming on your face after you suck me off, and maybe I call you a few names and stuff..."
"Oh, that's it?"
He shrugged. "I'm a rather simple guy..."
"Then, simply guy, let's finish this up so we can get busy," you winked at him as you went off to find more of your staff, leaving him alone with a clear boner.
The photoshoot resumed, Yechan in his new outfit. The crop top really complimented his figure, and honestly got you more excited for what was coming. You could also tell he was pretty excited. His cock could barely stay inside his pants, a few pictures had his tip peeking out, and you personally deleted those to save him from the embarrassment.
After the photoshoot, Yechan went into the dressing room to get changed. You dismissed the staff for the night, thanked everyone for being present, and then walked into the dressing room.
"Hello? Anyone home?" You called.
Yechan let out a small yelp, covering himself. "I'm in here!"
"Yes, obviously. I came here to find you." You closed the door and locked it behind you. "I'm here to give you the reward you requested for being such a good boy today."
Yechan's face was red, his shirt and underwear were on, but his pants were still on the floor.
You winked at him, "easy access? For me? How considerate."
"That's not–"
You dropped to your knees and started crawling over to him. "This is your reward, remember? Anything you want goes, but if either of us says stop, we're done."
Yechan nodded, still covering his crotch.
You crawled right up to him, your face inches away from his dick. "Are you going to hide all day? Isn't it your desire to take charge?" You unbutton your shirt, letting it sensually slide down your shoulders, but not taking it off completely.
"So, I can just go?" Yechan asked again to be sure.
"Yep, just–" Yechan pulled your hair and pushed you into his crotch, making you huff his musk. Slightly sweaty, but pretty clean. You could feel his cock throbbing under the thin fabric, 6 1/2 inches, and curved to the left... You moved your hand to touch it, but Yechan slapped it away.
"Did I tell you to use your hands, s–slut!?" He hesitated at calling you a slut. But the submissive look in your eye reaffirmed him. "Use your mouth to take it out."
You maneuvered your mouth to his waistband, nose grinding against his abs, and dragged his boxes down. His cock smacked you in the face as you moved. His balls were heavy and full, he was throbbing like crazy, and even a slight graze earned a guttural groan. Yechan had really been waiting for you...
"Get to work, whore."
You look up at him, still keeping your hands off him as you caught his cock in your mouth and started licking.
"More than that, I don't want you half-assing it. I'm a busy man!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you into him to make you take more.
Yechan was starting to get more into it, which made you want to mess with him. He wouldn't last long if you tried to push him to it, but if he's so busy, then he can handle it. You straightened your back, corrected his hand to move your head and not pull your hair, and relaxed your jaw. Yechan noticed the change in your attitude as he started getting greedy. Pushing you deep, holding you there, all while telling you how much of an attention whore you are. You pressed him more, flattening your tongue and turning off the gag reflex. You were taking over.
"Wait, holy f–fuck," he moaned as he grabbed a nearby table. "Oh, you're so good. So, so, good at this." You squeezed his balls, earning more praise. "My balls too! Fu–fuck, baby just like that. Keep chugging it." He pushed you down, controlling the tempo, making it faster. "Your mouth is amazing, I–I'm gonna fucking cum." He almost whined as you pulled off of him, jerking him off and licking his tip. His pressure was building. Fast. "Please let me cum on your face!"
You giggled. "Say it in character!"
Yechan's words were still fumbling. "I–I will cum on your face?" He questioned before you squeezed his balls firmly. "God Damn," his cum shot out and landed on your face. "My... g–god." He wouldn't stop, pump after pump. It was at last 8 pumps, full of cum, now on your face. Each was accompanied by a thrust and whining moans from Yechan. You stroked him through it all, milking him completely before giving the tip a lick and a kiss.
"All done?"
Yechan breathlessly smeared his cum on your face, using his cock. Pushing it toward your mouth. "I'm sorry for the mess..." He said breathlessly.
You pulled out your phone and took a picture with Yechan. Cock still out and cum on your face, but a little less as you wiped some off. You put the tip back in your mouth for your picture, earning more begging from Yechan.
"P–Please! No more, I can't cum again!"
You help Yechan finish getting dressed and clean yourself up, sending him on his way and adding his photo to the folder with the others...
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chaoticharrington · 27 days
Text
Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car
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Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.
**THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3**
Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface
Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words
**Chapter One Chapter Three Chapter Four**
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A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.
Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.
But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.
“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”
You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.
“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.
Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.
You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.
Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.
Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?
“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.
“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.
Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.
“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.
He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.
“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.
You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.
“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.
“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.
Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.
Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.
“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.
“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.
“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.
Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.
Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE
“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.
He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.
“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.
“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.
“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”
“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.
“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.
He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.
“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.
Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.
You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.
His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.
While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.
When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.
“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.
He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.
“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.
“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.
“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.
“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.
Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.
     He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.
     “Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.
     His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”  
     You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.
“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.
You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.
You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.
“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.
“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.
You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.
“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.
He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.
You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.
Just your fucking luck
You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?
You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.
“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.
Shit
“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.
“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.
“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously
You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.
“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.
Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.
“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.
You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.
“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.
“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.
“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.
He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.
You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.
“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.
He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.
Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.
“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.
Pretty lady
“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.
He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.
“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?
He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.
“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.
“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.
“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.
“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.
He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”
Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.
“Honestly me too,” you confess.
Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.
“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”
You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.
Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.
“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.
“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.
He wants you to be safe
“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.
“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.
“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.
“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.
“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.
He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.
You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.
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The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.
He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.
Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.
Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.
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It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.
 For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.
Oh gods was this really happening?
You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.
But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.
“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.
You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.
“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.
“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.
His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.
“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.
Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.
You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.
Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.
“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.
Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.
“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.
“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.
“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.
“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.
“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.
“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.
You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.
At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.
     Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.
It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.
“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.
You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.
“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.
“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.
You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.
“What?” you question.
“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.
That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.
“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.
“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.
You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.
“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.
He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.
You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.
“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.
Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”
You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.
Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.
But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.
“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.
“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.
“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.
***Reblogs/comments are appreciated***
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angelsnkisses · 9 months
Text
nsfw headcanons - tyler <3
💟 nsfw - mdni 💟
A/N: i haven't actually finished the show, but it's good so far :). definitely a little.. questionable at times, but all good shows are, right? 😭 also idk why my replies are off but it's driving me insane
warnings: softdom!tyler, sub!fem!reader, breeding kink, dubcon, overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy
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• no cause this show is WILD, but, disregarding that... can we talk about how tyler definitely has a huge breeding kink? there's no doubt about it.
• hear me out, he fucks you good, like gripping the sheets and seeing stars type of good. so good, in fact, that you're too dumbed out to use your critical thinking skills to make rational decisions in the moment. and as fucked as it is, he uses it to his advantage.
• he'll turn on that loving, gentle voice of his and start rubbing your clit to get your brain all foggy, hitting that divine spot inside you over and over again and turning your brain into susceptible mush.
"there you go, so good for me.. you gonna let me fill you up tonight?"
• he asks so casually, and smiles knowingly when you get all flustered and start shaking your head. he'll lean down and coo quiet pleads and praises at you, his silky voice working hard to convince you to do as he pleases.
"no? it'll feel so good, you wanna feel good?"
"come on, do it for me.. it would make me so happy."
• he knows it's wrong, but the satisfaction that washes over him when you finally whimper out a quiet 'yes' is unreal.
• aside from his tendency to manipulate your frangible little mind, he has other.. interests, if you will. one of those particular interests is overstimulating you until you can't even breathe properly.
• he'll pound you relentlessly, coaxing you through orgasm after orgasm until you're sobbing under him. best believe he has a touch of dacryphilia, because he fucks you even harder when he sees tears stream down your cheeks.
"shhh, just a few more for me. aw, don't cry, baby.. i know, it's okay."
"you don't wanna cum? you were begging for it just a little while ago.."
• after maybe 5 or 6 orgasms, he'll finally stop. not because he needs to, but because you do. he doesn't wanna completely destroy you (though part of him is intrigued to see just how much you can really take).
"you still in there? aw, you poor thing. fucked you dumb, didn't i?"
• he'll pull out slowly, taking his time to watch all his cum spill out of your spent, puffy cunt. you jerk and whine when he pushes it back in with his fingers, shushing you soothingly.
• he'll eventually leave your tortured sex alone, instead focusing on making you feel better. he'll clean you up, or have you lay on his chest so he can rub your back. he'll mumble an occasional praise, his mood elevated at the idea of you finally getting pregnant.
__
A/N: i don't think i've really posted anything like this, i'm nervous 😭. regardless, i hope you enjoyed! sorry it's short :3.
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xxlady-lunaxx · 2 months
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Unspoken affection | {SaneGiyuu}
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Theme: FLUFF
Note: i, for the first time, will see if I can try writing this as if it wasn't a oneshot meaning they won't already like each other bc it'll end up like 3 words if they do
A sprinkle of ObaMitsu
I started this Feb. 23, apparently 😭 mar.29 when i finished ;;
×××
Giyuu had been one of the first Hashira. The third, in fact. After Tengen and Gyomei.
He gotten along well with them, although... 'getting along' were relative words. More so, they tolerated each other. Giyuu didn't really talk much, opted to stay silent. Gyomei was comfortable with that and Tengen appeared not to mind because, though he was very talkative, he preferred when it was quieter as his hearing was sensitive.
So, Giyuu got along with the Hashira, mostly. Kanae came along sometime later. She was very cheerful and the polar opposite of Giyuu, but she was kind and didn't mind his quietness. He found that he didn't mind her presence much, albeit he still acted the same.
And then Sanemi arrived.
He was like the disruption of the peace created within the Hashira. It was irritating.
When he went to his first meeting, he had erupted in anger at Kagaya and had been shouting at him. It was loud. And then, after the meeting had ended, the other Hashira had berated him for this. 
Giyuu had stood by the side, deciding not to meddle with Sanemi. If he was always going to be an... explosive pomeranian, Giyuu should steer clear from this man.
Which was what he did. Mostly.
But it became obvious that it wouldn't be very easy when Sanemi decided to start bothering Giyuu, pestering him about being so quiet and unanswering. Normally, Giyuu would've ignored these irksome questions, but Sanemi was annoyingly persistant. And so, so very loud. Which was why he worked up the courage to respond, only to be talked over. 
And thus began Giyuu's hate for Sanemi. 
×××
When Sanemi had first become a Hashira, he had found himself in an almost feverish state. He was constantly tired and worked almost like a robot, doing things as if he had been programmed to. There were few times he felt like he could escape that, feel actually human again.
He found anger was a nice fuel of humanity to him, so he took it out on others, reveling at the feeling of temporary normalcy that came with it. It went away quickly and silence often brought back his numb, robotic state back, so he snapped at nearly everybody, making himself rather loathed personality-wise.
He didn't mind, not really. The only person he could care about what they thought of him was Masachika. And he was dead. So it really did not matter.
There was one Hashira whom he had decided to bother more than the others. Giyuu Tomioka, the Water Hashira. He was a really quiet person, rarely responding or speaking unless necessary. Because of Giyuu's ignorance, Sanemi found himself hovering around him more, feeling almost refreshed when immediate mirrored anger wasn't repelled back at him. It was annoying, of course. But annoyance meant he could feel. And feeling meant being... as okay as he could be.
Giyuu spoke only a couple times to him in response. Four, to be exact. His voice was quiet and collected, but a hint of irritation could be detected if you really paid attention. He was an interesting person, so full of mysteries and so closed off. Something else, besides his unbroken silence, drew Sanemi in. Like an old box in the far corner of the house, waiting to be opened and explored, except nobody was allowed to open it. Nobody was willing to, either. As if afraid something horrid would come out. Albeit it looked innocent on the outside, there was the small chance it would be filled with something terrible. To the point that even the box itself feared it's own being and refused to open up.
But Sanemi was curious.
Time flew on as usual—it never did stop, not for anyone or anything—and Sanemi grew less mechanical, more human. He found himself able to make skips in his usual schedule, able to live a bit more freely, despite his tightly programmed daily life.
He would use his occasional free time to wander around. He rarely actually spoke to anyone, only giving or following orders, occasionally engaging in small talk with some of the Hashira. But other than that, he kept to himself.
He was curious about Giyuu, however, which brought a bit of searching into his free time.
He would walk around, down random paths, looking for new places. Giyuu was one of the few Hashira's houses whom nobody knew where it was. Kanae's was free for anyone's knowledge, given that it was used for nursing people back to health often. Tengen invited the Hashira to his house from now and then, Kyojuro—who had become a Hashira recently—wasn't closed off about sharing and, though he didn't display it to the world, he did tell people if they asked.
Even Sanemi's, a select few knew.
But Giyuu's.
Giyuu's was only known to his crow, at this point, as he usually declined giving the knowledge to anyone. And something about that was peculiar to Sanemi. Like, what if there was an emergency? Would Giyuu simply live with the fact that whatever could happen might happen because nobody knew where he lived?
Although, it wasn't the worst thing possible, it was just something that set Giyuu aside from the others.
There was a lot that separated the Hashira from each other, of course. But Giyuu had something else that just... caught Sanemi's eye. Over and over again.
×××
Giyuu found himself growing more and more distant with the Hashira with each passing day. They already kept to themselves mostly, none of their schedules really overlapping, so it wasn't much different. But he started to avoid more so than mind his own business.
As the years past, more Hashira joined. Giyuu didn't feel connected to them, didn't feel like he could be like any of them. It was noticeable. And some of the Hashira tried to include him.
Although, include was a relative word. Some of them were kinder with it, but there were obviously those who were more... forceful. Like Sanemi.
Sanemi was, and had been since the day he'd became a Hashira, one of the most—or the most—irritating Hashira. He seemed apt to making Giyuu's life feel like that of a rat being chased by a cat, but not as life-threatening. Unless you counted going insane as life threatening. 
One day, Sanemi had gone up to Giyuu—somehow having found him as he finished training somewhere in the clearing of a forest.
"Oi, Tomioka," he shouted, over the rush of water. There was a river, a loud one at that, that cut through the forest and skimmed along the edge of the field that Giyuu had found.
Giyuu turned. The weather was hot, so he had taken off the top of his uniform, folding that and his haori and placing it aside. 
Deciding not to question why Sanemi was here, he cocked his head in question. "What?"
Sanemi seemed taken aback that he'd been responded to, but went on. "Uhm. Kanroji said that she wanted to invite all the Hashira on some shit sleepover and said I had to ask you to come," he said impatiently, his eyes flicking up and down, as if inspecting Giyuu.
"Oh. I won't go," Giyuu murmured. There was no reason to. It wasn't like the Hashira would actually want him to go.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "I figured."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because Kanroji would get mad if I didn't. Which would induce ear-piercing cries about why," Sanemi snorted, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms. He was sweating and the air was humid today, causing his hair to stick onto his skin. 
"Ah." 
Giyuu sheathed his katana, pulling his hair out of the ponytail to adjust it.
Sanemi watched him curiously, as if there was something to figure out. 
"What?" Giyuu asked, upon noticing this. 
"You never take down your hair," Sanemi said simply. 
He was a lot less shout-y today, it was unsettling, almost. 
"Okay." 
They lapsed back into silence as Giyuu re-tied his hair back up, his hands sticky with sweat. The only sounds were of the rush water and the occasional bird from up ahead.
Sanemi wasn't leaving, which was curious. Especially since his eyes seemed to be tracking Giyuu, as if he was put in charge to guard him.
"...do you need anything?" Giyuu asked finally, growing uncomfortable.
"No," Sanemi murmured, turning away. 
Confused, Giyuu watched as Sanemi left, without so much of an explanation. Odd.
×××
Fuck.
That day, that one day, that one stupid fucking day.
The sleepover thing was a lie. There hadn't been any sleepover. It had been an excuse to find Giyuu. 
Sanemi hadn't figured he'd have any luck, so when he'd seen Giyuu there he'd instinctively called out to him. He'd managed to hide his surprise enough and masked it with the question he'd made up. Luckily, Giyuu had shot it down. Because if he hadn't...
But that was beside the point. It wasn't the question that made Sanemi panic. No, of course it wasn't.
It was the fact that when he had seen Giyuu there, he had... felt. Something. Something different.
Usually, anger was his key to reality. But, then, he hadn't been angry then. He had felt something else, something true. He couldn't distinguish it, being in some stupid trance when he'd felt it. But he knew that it was different.
So now he was tearing at his hair, wishing he'd figure it out because it was eating him alive now, and had been since the day he'd seen Giyuu there. 
Giyuu without his-
No.
No, he wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't picture how Giyuu looked with his hair down, no shi... Shit. He shouldn't be thinking like this. He wouldn't!
Fuck.
Sanemi stood and grabbed his katana, pushing it into his belt and gritting his teeth in frustration. He stomped to the front of his house, slamming the door open and unsheathing his katana. 
He brought the sword above his head and slashed down.
One. Two. Three.
Don't think about Giyuu. Don't think about him.
Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.
You hate him, remember? He's stupid.
Thirty six. Thirty seven. Thirty eight.
His boring responses and his way of ignoring.
Sixty four. Sixty five. Sixty six.
The way he distances himself, how he doesn't talk.
Ninety eight. Ninety nine. One hundred.
His stupid blue eyes and stupid black hair.
One hundred and forty one. One hundred and forty two. One hundred and forty three.
His stupid voice you want to hear every day. His stupid mouth you want to-
Sanemi threw his katana down in frustration, kicking the handle and making it skid away, hitting a small boulder a few feet from him.
He ran his hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip furiously until it bled.
"Goddammit," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. 
He sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. Fuck. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
×××
Sanemi's uncharacteristic behavior had caught Giyuu's attention. It wasn't in his full interest, of course, but it was enough to make him curious. Yes, the weather had been hot and it made some people drowsy but... it hadn't ever visibly affected Sanemi enough to make him so quiet and... yeah. 
Which made Giyuu wonder, was Sanemi ever quiet? The only time he could think of the scarred Hashira being silent was... when in Kagaya's presence. Meaning, only twice a year. Which meant it was very rare. 
So, upon this realization, Giyuu decided he would try to figure it out. It wouldn't hurt to try getting along with Sanemi, right? Besides, maybe that would mean less yelling. And he would have something to do.
For a while, he forgot he was going to find out the reason of Sanemi's random personality slip, as it had completely left his mind; Sanemi wasn't exactly a priority to him.
But then he ran into Sanemi again one day, who seemed to be in a subdued mood, not even bothering to acknowledge Giyuu.
They were in the middle of a town, though, so it wasn't completely unreasonable. 
Giyuu watched Sanemi carefully for a bit, before turning to continue buying his food.
Once he had paid and left, he turned back, noticing Sanemi instantly. He approached him cautiously, looking up curiously at the store the Wind Hashira had walked into. A sweets store? For pastries, mochis, and bread? Was he buying something for someone?
Giyuu hovered inside the store uncomfortably. A woman glanced at him and he quickly adjusted his haori over his katana; when people saw it, they usually called for security. He would know from experience.
Sanemi appeared to have noticed him immediately as he gave Giyuu an annoyed look, picking up a box of mochi that had been put down for him on the counter.
He walked towards the exit, muttering to Giyuu as he passed. 
"The hell are you doing here?" he hissed between his teeth, his voice low.
The store was filled with a low chatter by the people around them and Giyuu quickly followed Sanemi out, deciding he didn't want to stay in this enclosed space with an almost intoxicating smell of sugar.
Back outside—and thank god for the fresh air—Giyuu and Sanemi walked quietly, side by side, through the streets.
The box, Giyuu noticed, was full of ohagi. Who liked ohagi? Mitsuri, maybe? He wasn't aware that Sanemi and Mitsuri were on good terms. 
They continued in silence for a couple minutes until they reached a part that wasn't as crowded.
Sanemi stopped then, resulting in Giyuu stopping as well. They turned to each other and Sanemi glared at him.
"Were you stalking me or something? I saw you staring, earlier," Sanemi said, crossing his arms, the box of ohagi clutched in one hand.
"I wasn't," Giyuu mumbled.
"Right." Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Why'd you follow me into the bakery, then? You didn't buy shit."
Remembering the ohagi, Giyuu changed the subject. "Who is the ohagi for?"
"...The fuck does that have to do with anything? And it's not for anyone, I'm eating it"—he uncrossed his arms here, tapping the box—"And you didn't answer my question, dipshit." 
Completely ignoring the last part, Giyuu said, surprised, "You like sweets?"
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "And you like ignoring me. What the hell does my taste in food have to do with shit??"
Giyuu frowned. If Sanemi ate things like ohagi often, why wasn't he nicer? Like Mitsuri! 
"Oi, you going to answer my question?" Sanemi snapped, waving the box in front of Giyuu's face.
"What question?" Giyuu asked, drawing blank. 
Sanemi groaned. "I can't tell if you're really that stupid, or if you're just pretending."
"I'm... not pretending," Giyuu mumbled, confused.
"Goddammit, never-fucking-mind," Sanemi sighed, turning. "I'm going to go. Don't follow me."
Giyuu's frown deepened but he nodded, watching Sanemi walk away.
Sanemi was in a peculiar mood that way. Although he was still as fiesty as ever, he didn't shout as much as usual. His voice was quieter. It was almost pleasant. Almost.
×××
Giyuu had been quite talkative that day. Had a randomly curious nature, followed by a million questions. Sanemi couldn't tell if he liked this or if he hated it. On the one hand, it was nice to hear Giyuu's voice a bit more. On the other, he was being ignorant and nosy as fuck. But... he seemed curious as to what Sanemi was doing. Was he interested in-
No. That was stupid thinking, and being a Hashira did not allow stupid thinking! 
Sanemi had been deep in thought about all of this for a couple hours now and was eating his ohagi whilst he walked towards... Where was he again?
He looked around, confused, and found himself standing admist a bamboo forest, water from a supposed river could be heard in the background. There was a house, a little ways forward, which was nestled comfortably in a small man-made clearing in the forest. The ground was gritty, like thickly packed sand, and it made a slight crunching sound as Sanemi walked towards the house, curious.
He'd never been here before. 
He looked around, his eyes catching onto everything. Then he realized there was approaching him from behind and he turned, noticing the motion of a person, entering the clearing. He quickly hid by the side of the house, waiting for the person.
Their footsteps were moderate but precise, and they grew closer to the house before pausing and suddenly moving quickly to where Sanemi hid.
Fuck.
But then the person came into view and...
"Tomioka?"
Giyuu blinked at him, his hand dropping from his katana. "What are you doing here, Shinazugawa?" he asked quietly, his brilliant blue eyes flicking over Sanemi as if he was searching for an answer written upon his body.
"I was just walking and ended up here somehow." Then, with a realization, Sanemi said, "Do you live here?"
Giyuu gave a hesitant nod. "I wasn't aware I told anyone of this place."
"You didn't. I don't know fuck where I am," Sanemi said, retreating from his hiding spot to stand in front of Giyuu. 
"Ah. Hello, again," Giyuu murmured. He turned, walking to his front door and unlocking it, opening the door. 
Sanemi nodded, standing awkwardly.
Giyuu glanced at him. "Are you busy?" he asked.
"No," Sanemi said. "My next mission is just patrol shit, and it shouldn't be too far."
"Okay. Do you want to come in?" Giyuu offered, stepping inside.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to drug me with tea?"
"...What?" 
"Nevermind. Sure." 
Giyuu nodded, motioning for him to come inside.
The interior of Giyuu's house was modest, kept mostly simple—which made sense given that the Hashira didn't usually devote their time to decorating their house. Except Mitsuri, maybe.
Sanemi closed the door behind him, looking around. "Why do you never tell anyone about your house?" he asked, absentmindedly.
Giyuu didn't respond, getting something from a different room.
Sanemi sighed. "You don't like responding, do you?" he asked pointedly, following Giyuu into what appeared to be the kitchen.
Giyuu glanced at him, then handed the albino male a teapot. Steam was filtering through the top, making Sanemi's hand feel humid and hot. He placed it on the knee-high table, confused why he'd been handed it. Giyuu gave him two cups in following and he poured the tea into them, watching the steam swirl and dissipate into the air.
Sanemi picked up one of the cups, the warmth from the tea seeping through the cup and warming his hands. Giyuu sat down across from where Sanemi stood, picking up his own cup.
It was silent as the two Hashira sipped their tea, neither having anything to say. Sanemi looked up, taking in the sight of Giyuu who sat quietly, his cup clasped in his hands, his eyes cast down, watching the swirl of the liquid. He looked cute this way, really. He always looked so subdued but it was adorable.
Honestly, something must be horrible wrong with Sanemi if he was thinking like this. He couldn't stop, somehow. Which was irritating to himself, almost worrying, really. Mostly annoying. He didn't want to be thinking about Giyuu 24/7, didn't want to be unable to look at Giyuu without falling into a fucking puddle.
He was fighting so hard to keep his composure at the moment, hoping beyond hope his face wasn't red. It was so fucking stupid, to look at Giyuu and think, God that man is so beautiful. Had he, or had he not, hated him before? Albeit, it hadn't truly been hate...
"What?" 
Sanemi looked up at the sound of Giyuu's voice, startled by the sudden noise in the previously hushed room.
Giyuu was staring at him, his eyes wide. It was tripping to see him whenever he showed emotion. It was unnatural on his face.
"What?" Sanemi asked. He placed his cup down on the table, having finished his tea a couple minutes ago.
Giyuu's mouth opened and closed soundlessly before saying, quietly, "You... think I'm pretty?"
Sanemi blinked. "The fuck are you-" ...Oh. Oh, oh god, he must've said it out loud, he must've told Giyuu without even realizing that-
Giyuu put his cup down as well, biting his lip. His face was mostly impassive, though, and it made everything... so much worse.
"No. I, uhm, I didn't... I didn't mean to say that-" Sanemi stuttered, worsening matters. He should've just said it was a joke, or something, what the hell was wrong with him? He was stumbling over himself, backing away. Why was he so nervous? This was Giyuu, for fucks sake! He didn't actually care! ...Right? 
Giyuu stood as well, nearly knocking down the table in the process. He steadied it and moved forwards, reaching an arm out to grab Sanemi's wrist—instinctively, most likely—but Sanemi had retreated already, was out the door and heading towards the front. 
Giyuu followed him quickly, stopping him before he opened the door.
"Shinazugawa?" 
And then it was like words suddenly stopped existing and Sanemi froze, his eyes flicking around nervously. "W...What?" he asked, his voice meek and timid. Disgusting. Why was he being like this? God, he needed help. What the fuck.
"Did you... Did you mean it?" Giyuu mumbled, his hand clasped around Sanemi's wrist. The feel of his palm was warm and, though his hands were calloused from years of training, his hand was almost soft. 
"Mean what?" Stupid. This was stupid, Sanemi was stupid, everything was-
"What you said about... me." 
Yes. He meant it. Meant more than that. 
"No."
"Oh."
Giyuu let go of Sanemi's wrist and his arm fell to his side.
There was an awkward moment of silence and then-
"...sorry. Bye, Shinazugawa," he said quietly, opening the door for Sanemi and backing away slightly.
Sanemi didn't move for a second, his body feeling numb for no reason. 
"Are you leaving?" Giyuu asked uncertainly.
"...Yes," Sanemi said, regaining feeling in his body and quickly making his way out. 
He shut the door behind him, walking quickly through the clearing and back onto the path outside of it. He looked from his left to right then, deciding he didn't know where the hell he was, turned left and broke out into a slow run, his pace quickening by the second.
As he ran, he felt as if his lungs had deflated, and he breathed heavily through his mouth, as if suddenly he had lost the ability to run. 
What the hell was that? Why had he acted like that? What the fuck was wrong with him?
×××
Giyuu was in a panic. He was panicking because:
1. Sanemi had found his house somehow.
2. Sanemi had been quiet for the longest time possible for him.
3. Sanemi had been drinking tea with Giyuu inside Giyuu's house... quietly.
4. Sanemi said that Giyuu was beautiful... then went on to deny it.
5. Sanemi had been so awkward.
6. Sanemi had then proceeded to run away after Giyuu had caught hold of his arm.
What the hell had just happened?!
×××
Sanemi was also panicking. Waaay worse. 
He found Obanai quickly and, in the most incomprehensible way, recounted what had happened.
Obanai stared at him, confused and irritated. "What? Will you slow the fuck down and catch your breath first?"
Sanemi ignored him, deciding to explain in a faster way. "I think I like Tomioka."
Obanai crossed his arms. "Okay?"
"'Fuck you mean, 'okay'?!" Sanemi snapped. 
"It was obvious that you liked him, idiot," Obanai said. He rolled his eyes. "Is that all? A stupid revelation everyone but you already knew? If so, I will be with Kanroji, thank you very much."
"Oh my god, think about something other than your girlfriend for once!!!" Sanemi groaned. "And what the fuck do you mean, 'everyone already knew'? I didn't even know!"
"Riiighttt, this is a massive waste of my time, I'll be off now," Obanai said, turning away. 
"Bitch," Sanemi grumbled, watching Obanai practically skip off to Mitsuri.
He sighed, sitting down on the ground, leaning against a random tree that just so happened to be there.
He buried his face in his hands, wishing he knew the answers to the world. And wishing he wasn't thinking about Giyuu.
×××
Sanemi had suddenly become a person that Giyuu could be more than mildly interested in, someone he needed to find something out about but he didn't quite know what. And given that Sanemi had basically run away from him the last time they'd met, Giyuu opted to talk to Obanai about Sanemi.
Upon approaching him and asking him about Sanemi, Obanai simply said, "He fell in love with someone," and gave no other explanation before leaving.
Almost frustrated by this response, Giyuu searched for someone else who could tell him a little something about the Hashira he'd always wanted to avoid.
He went to Mitsuri next, whom was known for her friendliness and perhaps she had managed to speak a bit with Sanemi before.
She didn't say much, only burst into a fit of giggling when he asked about Sanemi.
Giyuu just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. 
Mitsuri told him, then, that perhaps Sanemi was acting like this because he liked someone.
Which only made it all the more annoying.
Shinobu, Tengen and Kyojuro only gave similar answers to those of Obanai's and Mitsuri's. So, Giyuu gave up asking the Hashira and quickly tracked down Genya.
Genya was surprised to hear the question.
"Aniki?" he'd said. "What do you mean?"
"Yes. That's what he said. Then he left," Giyuu said blandly.
"Oh. Uhm." Genya hesitated. "I don't know. I don't know him as well as I used to." 
"Oh."
There was a moment of silence.
"What do you know about him, then? Be it not of his present self," Giyuu asked.
"Uhh... He's really good with children! He cared for me and my younger siblings really well, as if he was our father," Genya said, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "He was really kind. I remember he would do anything to help Mother when she needed it, even did most of the things she usually did just so she could sleep well that night."
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "He sounds very different."
Genya frowned. "I'm sure he's still like that..."
"Mhm. Go on."
"Alright. Uhm..." Genya then proceeded to go on a rant about the most random facts about Sanemi, from his favorite food—ohagi—to the friends he'd had in the past.
Giyuu listened with interest, not realizing there could be so much character to a man who seemed to make it his life goal to annoy people.
At the end of Genya's rant, he had said, "he might like you, you know, if he said that. Or he was thinking about someone else?" Genya concluded, referring to Sanemi calling him beautiful—then claiming he didn't mean it.
"Like me?..." Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mhm!" Genya waved, walking away. "Tell me if anything happens!"
"Alright..." Giyuu watched him leave, then turned back to his own thoughts. 
Like him? Why would anyone like Giyuu? And, of all people, Sanemi! Although, it would tie together with what the Hashira had said, given that they'd all said that Sanemi had 'fallen in love.' 
But... how? And why?
×××
Sanemi successfully managed to avoid Giyuu for about three days before he was found. He had been walking down a path after his mission, on his way home, when he ran into Giyuu. Giyuu, as it turned out, had had a mission near Sanemi's and had also been on his way home. 
"Shinazugawa?"
Sanemi's heart stopped. Fuck. 
Giyuu was standing there, his expression all innocent and unassuming and... God. Yes, yes he looked like a fucking god. 
"What?" Sanemi snapped, fighting against the heat that rose in his body. Goddammit.
"I've been looking for you..." Giyuu said, stepping forwards to be face to face with the Wind Hashira, his gaze curious, a contrast to his usually impassive expression.
"...Why?" It's not because he's interested, it is not. Sanemi's eyes flicked anywhere but to Giyuu's face and he pursed his lips uncertainly.
"I wanted to ask you about something," Giyuu replied, tilting his head slightly. "...Why won't you look at me?"
"Why the fuck are you so talkative?!" Sanemi asked, his voice coming out more irritated than he'd intended. His heart seemed to be working again; or maybe not. It beat quickly, too quickly, and his breath came out forced and quick. 
"Are you okay?" Giyuu's voice was concerned, he frowned. "Your face is red..."
"Fuck off. It's... 'cause I was running a lot. And you aren't answering me," Sanemi mumbled, turning his face away.
"Oh." Giyuu paused, seemingly forgetting what he was doing here. "I wanted to ask you some-"
"I get it, you want to ask me something. Get the fuck on with it! I don't have time to waste on your shitty ass," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. Why was he acting like this, as if he could barely control his emotions anymore. It was stupid, and annoying.
"...Sorry." Giyuu pouted. "Do you... like me?"
Sanemi froze. "What?" 
"Do you like me?..." Giyuu repeated.
"No, I heard you, don't fucking repeat it," Sanemi gritted out. "Why the hell would you ask that?!"
"...I was... wondering about your behavior. It was peculiar and I... couldn't fathom why you had acted like that," Giyuu said quietly. "I asked the Hashira and your brother and... they all said you liked someone—though Genya said that, more specifically, you might like... me?"
"I..." Sanemi was at loss for words. He couldn't like Giyuu! Not that stupid, quiet, bitchass bastard! Except, it would make sense. It would explain why he always felt so... Oh my god, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't bear having Giyuu's annoyingly pretty eyes staring at him curiously, as if he hadn't just dropped the worst question he ever could. 
"No. No, I hate you! I don't like you! Fuck off!" Sanemi shouted, turning and quickly running off, not looking back.
Fuck.
×××
There was something wrong with Giyuu.
When Sanemi had left, shouting that he didn't like him, Giyuu had felt a pang in his chest. As if he was disappointed.
Why would he be? He'd never cared much what Sanemi said before. And yet... 
And yet now he suddenly cared, suddenly wished to know why. Why what? Why everyone claimed Sanemi had fallen in love? Why Sanemi had called him beautiful? Why Sanemi seemed to hate him so much? Why he felt like it all actually mattered? 
He had trudged home, nearly bumping into several trees in the process. Then he had flopped onto his futon and proceeded to stare at the cealing, re-thinking his life. The image of Sanemi from earlier flashed in his memory. Sanemi, his cheeks flushed,—from running???—his eyes averted and face scrunched from anger. He looked like an angry dog, really. But cuter. 
Wait. What?
No, no, not cute. Sanemi was never cute.
Giyuu sighed, dropping a hand onto his forehead and running his hand through his hair, closing his eyes. What the fuck was wrong with him?
×××
It was dark and raining, though the air was warm. Sanemi was trudging through a muddy forest without a clue to where he was going, exhaustion dragging him down. He was soaked to the bone and shivering despite the warm weather. As he walked, he noted that somebody was somewhere around him. He kept his guard up, quieting his footsteps as he continued on. Then, at an intersection of the path, he bumped into... Genya.
Genya had his arm over his head and had apparently only just noticed Sanemi, skittering backwards in his surprise. "A-... Aniki?!" Genya said, startled. 
Sanemi grumbled. Of course it was him. "What?" he asked, irritated.
"Uhm. I was on a mission," Genya mumbled.
"What, are you going to bleed to death now??" Sanemi said, noticing the blood staining Genya's clothing. "Quit the fucking Corps if you're going to be so useless at your job."
"No! I'm fine! It's a light wound. And I won't quit!! I'm not useless!" Genya insisted, pouting.
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Then get your ass to Kocho's. I don't want to deal with you right now," he said, turning away from his (not) brother and stalking away.
"Wait- Aniki-" Genya called out, following him.
"Fuck off! And I'm not your brother!" Sanemi snapped, not turning to look at him.
"Please-"
"Shut the actual fuck up," he said, turning and pushing Genya to the ground.
Genya slipped on the mud and fell on his back. He frowned but stopped following Sanemi who walked away, through the forest.
Sanemi looked around, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He noticed a path that looked vaguely familiar to the left and he followed it, his steps slow. He let out an exaggerated sigh every now and then, wishing he could just stop Genya from being Genya for once.
He looked up and found that, as the path went on, there was one part that entered into what looked like a bamboo forest. Ah. Giyuu's house.
He contemplated going inside for a minute before deciding to just walk past it, not wanting to deal with Giyuu asking if... No, he wouldn't finish the sentence.
So he trudged on. Then, to his luck, he heard his name being called out. He turned with a sigh, meeting Giyuu's gaze. "What is it?" he asked, his voice coming out harsher than intended.
"Uhm. Shinazugawa, what're you doing outside now?" Giyuu asked. "It's raining, you should get inside unless you want to get a cold."
"Yeah, well, I have no fucking idea where I am. I'll be fine," Sanemi said, shaking his head. 
"Come inside!" Giyuu insisted. "I have a mission I have to get to in a bit, I think, but it'll be fine. You can stay here so Kocho doesn't kill you for getting sick."
"Fair enough..." Sanemi sighed, caving in. He followed Giyuu inside, slipping off his shoes. 
"You should bathe and change," Giyuu said, looking Sanemi up and down. "I'll put extra clothing and a towel in the bathroom and make an extra futon for you."
"Alright. Thanks," Sanemi said, wondering why the hell Giyuu was talking to much.
Giyuu nodded and went off to do what he had said, leaving Sanemi standing in the hall.
×××
After Giyuu had made sure that Sanemi had everything he might need—putting out a tray of food next to the futon as well—he quickly wrote a note explaining that he would be out on a mission and that Sanemi could sleep or whatever he wanted while waiting.
He left the note on top of the futon and grabbed his haori, slipping it on. He picked up his katana, pushing it into his belt, and heading outside into the rain.
The mission was easy—the demons being surprisingly incompetent for a Hashira to be called there. And, after making sure the surviving rank-and-file Demon Slayers were alright, he made his way home. Unfortunately he'd been held up by the other Demon Slayers so dawn was already approaching. 
The rain had settled to a light sprinkle, almost non-existent, and the sky was brightening as the sun slowly arose.
Back home, Giyuu quickly bathed and changed, then went to look for Sanemi. He entered his room and found Sanemi entangled between the sheets of his futon. The food was half eaten and the note sat on the tray.
Giyuu almost smiled at the sight. It was really nice to see the humanity in Sanemi; it was rare. He slipped into his own futon and closed his eyes, falling asleep soon after.
×××
When Sanemi awoke, light was filtering through a window. He ran a hand through the mess of his hair, moving the blankets off of him. He looked to his left and saw Giyuu fast asleep. He smiled—then quickly frowned at himself for smiling—and turned to his food, which was mostly cold now. Regardless, he ate the rest of it. Once he finished, he picked up the tray and took it to where he presumed the kitchen was, washing his bowls.
As he dried his hands, he heard Giyuu walking and turned.
Giyuu was at the doorway, looking quite illegally adorable in all his sleepiness, his hair messy as hell. He blinked wearily at Sanemi. "Good morning."
"'Morning," Sanemi returned, nodding. "It's strange to wake up actually in the morning."
Giyuu nodded back. "Mhm."
"Are you hungry?" 
"A bit."
"Want me to make something?" he offered.
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "You can cook?"
"Don't look at me like that. Of course I can, what kind of eldest sibling would I be without knowing how to cook??" Sanemi scoffed. "I'll show you."
"I wouldn't want to bother you, it's fine," Giyuu murmured. "I can make myself something."
"What, canned tomato sauce? I'm making it. I took your question as a fucking challenge," Sanemi said, pushing Giyuu out of the kitchen. "I'm going to use whatever the hell you have in here, by the way!!"
Giyuu called back a complaint in response. 
Sanemi grinned and started scouring the kitchen for ingredients, deciding he would make the most elaborate food he could with what he found. Literally for no reason at all.
×××
Sanemi had called Giyuu in to eat—after he had waited for an hour—and now, sitting before him, was... The most food he'd seen in front of him in his life since... Since he was thirteen. No, well, not the most. But it reminded him of when Tsutako had guests over and she wanted to make the food be the best it possibly could be.
"Uhhm. Thank you..." Giyuu said, still in shock.
Sanemi smirked. "Who can't cook now?!"
"It wasn't even a challenge!" Giyuu whined. 
"Mhmmm, well now it is! Whatever you don't eat I'm sending to Rengoku probably. Or Kanroji. Either of them will eat it without a question," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. "Now, eat."
"Why're you feeding me???" Giyuu huffed, though he sat down and picked up a fork that Sanemi had laid down for him.
"Because I never do this anymore and I was bored. And I didn't feel like training yet," he said simply, sitting down across from Giyuu. "Why, do you not want to eat?"
Giyuu shook his head. "No, no, I do. You're just being so nice today-"
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll stop being nice." He stood and walked to the other side of the table and smacked Giyuu's head. "Eat!!"
"I... I preferred you when you were nice..." Giyuu admitted, quickly starting to eat. 
"Exactly. Besides, you can't be questioning me when you're talking as much as Rengoku today," Sanemi pointed out.
"No' af mush," Giyuu mumbled through mouthfuls of food. 
"Hm. True. And don't talk with your mouth full or I'll squeeze the food out of you," Sanemi threatened, going back to his side of the table and plopping down.
Giyuu glared at him but finished chewing before responding. "What are you, my mom?"
"Yes, I'm your mom now. Manners!!" Sanemi shouted, picking up a piece of bread and chucking it at Giyuu.
"Hey- Parents don't do that- I think-" Giyuu whined, picking up the bread and putting it on the table. 
"You 'think'??" Sanemi asked incredulously, starting to eat.
"My sister raised me," Giyuu said with a shrug—then realized what he said and quickly stuffed food in his mouth, wishing he wasn't being so open suddenly. Something about Sanemi's atmosphere today just made him so comfortable, though. His teasing manner—and not in a rude way. Like... Sabito.
"Ah. Nice," Sanemi murmured, picking up a cup and filling it with tea. 
"Mm. Thanks for the food, again," Giyuu said, giving him a slight smile.
Sanemi raised his eyebrows at the smile, but said nothing of it, simply nodding. "Sure."
×××
Back at his own house, Sanemi was changed in his uniform again. He laid the clothes Giyuu had let him borrow down and- Oh shit, he had taken them home- He contemplated going back to Giyuu's house, then decided he'd rather not bother and headed outside to train.
His mind was filled with thoughts of Giyuu—Giyuu's smile, his house, just him in general—and he found it hard to concentrate on his training. So, only ten minutes after he'd started, he promptly gave up, deciding to do something else and set out on a walk. 
Over the next few days, Sanemi found himself mostly alone. Although there was the occasional nod from Obanai when they passed by each other, he was mostly solitary. Days were busier now, with demons multiplying each second. The past dull of life seemed to have faded recently, however, which made him not mind the constant missions. In honesty, he felt relieved. But he had a feeling Giyuu had something to do with his life feeling like life again, a fact which he preferred to ignore. There was no way in hell he would ever admit to anyone that he liked Giyuu, because it was Giyuu. If it were literally anyone else, he would've just told them. But Giyuu?? The 'I'm not like you' quiet-ass bastard who was way too cute than he should be allowed to be—who was a stupid, oblivious fuck??? Him??
Nah.
Honestly, Giyuu seemed to have it figured out though. So hopefully Sanemi wouldn't have to clarify. Because if he did, then they were better off not interacting at all. 
×××
"He likes you, it's obvious," Shinobu said, rolling her eyes. She taped the bandage around Giyuu's wrist and let go of his arm. "Anyway, I'm done. Don't force your arm past its limits, know your own strength, idiot. Or weaknesses, if you may."
Giyuu blinked. "I don't think he likes me. He said he didn't."
"Does Shinazugawa seem like the type to be honest when it comes to this?" Shinobu asked, raising an eyebrow. She stood, putting away her supplies. 
"He's annoyingly honest," Giyuu murmured, standing as well.
"Fair point. But! Keywords, 'when it comes to this.' He wouldn't just straight up say, 'Hey, I like you.' Doesn't sound like him," Shinobu said, picking up a pen and tapping Giyuu's nose with the tip of it. 
Giyuu batted the pen away, shaking his head. "No, he seems like the type to do that."
"Hm. Not with you, then," she said, grabbing his non-injured hand and forcing the pen into it. 
"I don't need this," Giyuu said, trying to give it back.
"You do. Sign this," Shinobu said, shoving a paper in his face.
Giyuu eyed it. "What is it?"
"You're overworking yourself. This gives you permission to have a break," she said impatiently. "Write your name there." 
"...No. I'm alright," he said, frowning. 
She sighed. "Worth a shot. I'll just forge your signature. Anyway, back to Shinazugawa."
"Hey-" Giyuu whined as she snatched the pen and paper back. 
A smile as sweet as a lemon spread across her face. "Yes?"
"...You're a pain, Kocho," he grumbled, sitting back down.
"That's all? Very well, let's go back to the topic of your boyfriend. Now, tell me, do you like him?" she asked, leaning closer to him.
Heat seemed to flicker into his cheeks and he fidgetted with his sleeve. "No..."
She laughed. "I'm not Uzui but I could hear your lie from miles away."
"I'm not lying..."
"Okay, well, tell me this. Since all of this"—she waved her hand over him, as if it would explain anything—"has happened, you've been, one, talking more, two, a lot more expressive, three, more distracted. And... four? You're blushing. When I asked you, you turned red."
"I did not!" Giyuu said indignantly, although he was sure he only turned redder.
"You're annoying. You're like a child," she said, exasperated. "Fine. Be it your way. But he does like you, mark my words. So if you two end up dating, I get to say 'I told you so.' Also, I better be the first person you tell."
Giyuu frowned. "We won't date. I don't like him, and I'm sure he doesn't like me."
"Suit yourself." She hit his head with a ruler that she'd apparently conjured out of nowhere. "Now get out. I have more important things to deal with."
Giyuu sighed and stood, quickly leaving before she decided to bother him again.
There was no way what she was saying was true. Why the hell would Giyuu fall for... Sanemi?! And vice versa. It just didn't make sense...
×××
"You're going to be the death of me," Sanemi said, sighing. Giyuu was currently on his back, clinging on for dear life, as Sanemi stalked to the ravenette's room. 
Sanemi had finally decided to bring back Giyuu's clothes—once he'd worked up the courage to willingly visit him—only to find Giyuu collapsed on the ground having apparently been training for some hours and hadn't been hydrated enough. 
"I'm sorryyy," Giyuu mumbled into Sanemi's shoulder.
"Save your apologies for Kocho, you better hope she doesn't barricade you in your room," he said, rolling his eyes. He kicked down Giyuu's bedroom door and marched inside, dropping the Hashira on his bed. "Sleep."
"I'm convinced you're trying to mother me," Giyuu said, a hand drapping over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. "First you cook me food and now you make me sleep."
Sanemi scoffed. "Your fault for being so incompetent. And I'm not your mother. What, do you want me to be? Want me to kiss you goodnight?"
Giyuu raised his arm to look at Sanemi. "Would you do it?"
His eyes were curious, a striking blue. Usually they seemed to hold no life in them, no emotion, no passion, no nothing. But there was a glint to it now, seeming to light up Giyuu's face like a beacon. 
Sanemi swallowed. "Would you ask?"
Giyuu's lips curved in a small smile. "Touché."
Sanemi sighed, shaking his head—more at himself. "You're stupid." 
"I'll sleep now," Giyuu informed him, pulling the sheets over himself. 
"You better. I'm staying here 'till you sleep."
"What?! You creep," he whined. 
"Either that or I tell Kocho," Sanemi said, set on his decision.
"...Fine, stalk me all you want," Giyuu said, frowning and closing his eyes.
Sanemi smiled to himself, leaning against the wall and waiting.
The room drew to a quiet hum, the only sound being the two Hashira's breathing.  After a while, Giyuu's breath finally calmed into a slow, settled sleep, his face relaxed and soothed.
Sanemi stepped towards the bed quietly, hovering over him. He knelt beside Giyuu and, once he decided that he really was asleep, started to step away. Then he paused, his eyes trailing to Giyuu's lips. 
He immediately struck down the idea, mentally berating himself for even thinking it. He parted the dark locks resting on Giyuu's forehead, placing a gentle kiss there before quickly fixing the Hashira's hair and retreating from the room, making his way outside. 
The cool air hit his face as he stepped out, but he barely noticed it, heat flickering in his cheeks as he walked out of the clearing and into the path that would lead him back. God, why was he such a mess...
(i loved writing that sm)
×××
Giyuu was a light sleeper. 
Anyone in the Demon Slayer Corps had to be, or they wouldn't even pass Final Selection. So, of course, he had awoken. Though he had been too sleepy to comprehend why he had woken up so randomly, and so quickly, at the time, he quickly realized it once Sanemi had left.
Now he lay, curled up in a ball, his face buried in his palms, mentally screaming. Because.. what the hell had just happened?! But... he wasn't complaining.
Wait- Why not-
He pulled the blanket over his head, engolfing himself in the darkness. No, this wasn't better. It only made his face hotter. He sat up, the cool air bursting upon him. He fanned himself, trying to calm his heartbeat. 
Fuck, he was in love, wasn't he. He was in love, he was in love with Sanemi Shinazugawa. He was a fucking mess.
×××
"...You look like Tomioka just kissed you," Obanai said, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree.
Sanemi had found him, after a while, and was trying to get his thoughts together, pacing up and down on the side of the path. "He didn't! I did!"
"Wait what-" Obanai said, standing up straight and leaning towards him. "What do you mean?!"
Sanemi let out a half-sigh, half scream, raking his hand through his hair. "Not... Not fully, just on his forehead. And he was asleep. BUT STILL!!"
Obanai slumped back against the tree, rolling his eyes. "Coward," he coughed.
"Oh, shut the fuck up. It's not like you have kissed Kanroji yet," Sanemi spat, stopping in front of Obanai.
"Yeah, well, unlike you, I have still been way more successful!!" he retorted. "All you have done is eat breakfast with him!! Meanwhile, I've eaten lunch and breakfast with her many days, gone on walks with her, bought her gifts, hugged her..."
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Yet you haven't told her that you like her."
"Hey! You haven't told Tomioka either!!" Obanai pointed out. 
"Righhttt, and who, exactly, has liked their crush for longer?? Hmm? Oh, right! You!" Sanemi laughed. "Your arguments are pitiful."
"You're freaking out about kissing Tomioka on the fucking forehead when he was asleep, don't call me pitiful," Obanai grumbled.
"Hm. Fair enough," Sanemi decided. 
"Look, take Tomioka out on a walk or something equivalent to a date, for all I care. But if you keep ranting about how you kissed him on the forehead without him knowing then I'm going to find Tomioka and tell him how you feel. I don't give a fuck anymore," Obanai told him, moving away from the tree and walking back onto the path.
Sanemi turned towards him. "Consider it the same for you. I don't know how long I can stand hearing you talk about Kanroji. 'Oh my god! Kanroji told me we can eat lunch together, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day bef-'"
"I GET IT!!!" Obanai snapped, rubbing his temples. "Fine. You stop, I stop."
"Deal."
Sanemi grinned. "Have fun eating lunch with her again. Or, rather, watching her eat lunch."
Obanai pushed him. "Fuck off." 
×××
Sanemi had kissed him. He'd kissed him, he had kissed him, oh my god, Sanemi had-
Well. It could've just been to the joke from before. About 'kissing him goodnight.' BUT STILL. AND GIYUU HAD BEEN ASLEEP(ish).
Which made it all the more... Confusing. Maybe Sanemi saw him only as a sibling or a child or something. He did keep taking care of him, which didn't even seem coincidental anymore. As if, assuming one could believe in fate, they were being purposefully brought together. Constantly in each other's ways. ...Not that Giyuu minded.
In fact, he liked spending more time with Sanemi.
The fact of which was a huge shock to himself. Hadn't he just hated Sanemi?
Well. Things always changed, no...?
Maybe this change wouldn't be bad, though. Maybe he should try embracing it.
Giyuu found himself constantly distracted by these thoughts as he went on with his days. But, surprisingly, he didn't come across Sanemi for a while. Either Sanemi was avoiding him—which was reasonable, yet disappointing—or their schedules just kept them apart from each other. Whatever the reason was, Giyuu ended up going in search of Sanemi, wanting to clarify the ki...
No, he wouldn't say it. Wouldn't think it. He preferred not to feel as if he would have a heart attack—an abnormal heartbeat and flushed face...
He sighed, mussing up his hair so it covered his face, continuing to walk briskly down the path. He avoided some Demon Slayers who had seemingly popped out of nowhere and were attempting to talk to them, mentally berating himself for not being careful and getting unwanted attention. Just as he was about to give up and let them talk to him, he noticed Sanemi somewhere in the close distance.
He sped up, ignoring the calls of the other Demon Slayers who trotted behind him.
Sanemi looked up upon all the noise and seemed to be holding back laughter at the sight of Giyuu's pleading gaze. He cleared his throat, grabbing Giyuu's arm and pushing him behind him. 
"The hell do you want?" he asked the others, glaring at them.
They all shrank back. One of them spoke up timidly, his voice shaky. "W... We just wanted to talk to Water-Pillar-sama..." 
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. See, I need him somewhere. You all can go now," Sanemi said, waving them off.
"But-" 
"I said I need him. You said you wanted something from him. Need is more important than want, fuckers. If you don't leave now, maybe we can see how well you can weild your katanas against a Hashira," Sanemi said, a hand hovering over his katana handle.
"Shinazugawa, there's no need to-" Giyuu started.
Sanemi shushed him, turning back to the Demon Slayers. "So? What will it be?"
They seemed to hesitate for a second before deciding it wasn't worth it and collectively agreed to leave, scampering away.
Sanemi turned back to Giyuu, a smirk growing on his face. "Got people falling on themselves for you now, hm?" he teased. 
Giyuu sighed. "Will I have to find someone else to shoo you away?" he asked.
"I was joking- The hell did they even want from you, though?" Sanemi said, crossing his arms.
"I don't know," Giyuu murmured. 
"Right." An awkward silence spread between the two and they stared at the ground, unsure what to say.
"Uh. Now that you're free, guess I'll be taking my leave-" Sanemi said, appearing to want to dash away. His cheeks were dabbed in a dusty pink as he stepped back.
"Wait- Shinazugawa, I wanted to ask you something," Giyuu said, grabbing Sanemi's wrist as he remembered why he had been outside in the first place.
"Which is?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Giyuu paused, glancing down at his hand which was still clasped around the scarred wrist of the other Hashira. Sanemi's pulse was fast. Why?
"Uhm. A few days ago... when you told me to sleep," Giyuu started quietly, unsure how to go about it. Then, deciding that there was no use stalling, he blurted out, "Why did you kiss me?"
Sanemi stared at him, in shock apparently, then let out what sounded like a muted scream, burying his face in the hand Giyuu wasn't holding. "God, you were awake...?" he mumbled, sounding as if he was regretting everything. Which he probably was doing.
"I... woke up when you did that," Giyuu murmured. 
"...Of course you did," Sanemi said.
Giyuu cocked his head to the side. "Can I ask you something, Shinazugawa?"
"What now...?" he said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair—or, more, tearing at his hair.
"Why is your heartbeat so fast?" Giyuu asked.
Sanemi looked up, glaring at him. "Stop asking questions I'd rather tear my chest out than answer," he grumbled.
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "What-?"
"Nevermind."
"Okay..." Giyuu let go of his wrist. "Will you answer the questions?"
Sanemi hesitated. "What happens if I don't?"
"I'll... ask Genya for help?..." Giyuu said slowly, knowing it would irritate Sanemi—and hopefully convince him to speak.
Sanemi's eyes narrowed. "Fuck, fine." He let out an exaggerated sigh, then without warning reached up and clasped his hands on either side of Giyuu's face, pulling him closer.
Giyuu's eyes widened and he felt himself flush at the proximity, his stomach deciding to do some acrobatic trick of Mitsuri's, followed by what appeared to be a bunch of Shinobu's fluttering around.
"Shinazugawa...?" he mumbled, his voice muted from his own shock.
×××
Do it. DO IT.
Sanemi let out a breath, his eyes searching Giyuu's. He found no sign of resistance, only question and surprise. 
"Listen. If you hate this, just push me away. I won't resist," Sanemi advised, his tone as serious as he could force it to be with his heart flying circles in his ribcage, as if trying to break free. 
"Do wh-"
Before Giyuu could finish, Sanemi fit his mouth against the Water user's, one hand tangling in the dark locks of Giyuu's hair, the other slipping down to his waist. He paused when he got no response, and started to move away, but then arms wrapped around his body, pulling him closer and back into the kiss.
They stumbled through the embrace, their legs tangling with one anothers. He didn't know who finally pulled away, but when they did, the two stood there, Giyuu resting his head on Sanemi's shoulder, their breaths harsh and quick—not solely from the kiss.
Then, as if just realizing what they'd done, they scrambled away from each other, looking like embarrassed puppies.
Giyuu was the first to speak, his voice meek—not that Sanemi could blame him. "Do you... like me?" he mumbled.
Sanemi frowned. "I thought I told you to stop asking me questions like that."
"Like what?"
"Questions that I'd commit seppuku before answering," he said, crossing his arms. 
"...Sorry," Giyuu said, pouting.
"You better be. Also, the answer should be fucking obvious. If it's not, then you're stupid." Sanemi rolled his eyes, stalking towards him and grabbing Giyuu's arm. "We're going somewhere private now. C'mon."
Giyuu nodded quickly, following him. "I'm not stupid," he muttered, more to himself
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
×××
Since then, Giyuu and Sanemi avoided each other. Mostly from embarrassment and neither wanting to bring up the topic again. After they had left the public eye, they had made out for a bit, being too shy—which was definitely not a word that would usually describe either of them—to talk about anything. It had been exactly a week, two days, four hours, and thirty one minutes since they had parted ways—yes, Giyuu had been counting.
But—finally—they had decided to meet again, talk about it more formally. Rather, Sanemi had invited Giyuu to lunch and Giyuu had agreed. He stood, waiting, in front of a restaurant. Apparently Sanemi had reserved a table but had forgotten to tell Giyuu, so now he was awkwardly hovering in front of the restaurant wishing Sanemi would hurry the fuck up. 
After a few agonizing minutes of waiting, Sanemi appeared at last, looking out of breath. His hair looked oddly neat and well kept—unlike usual—and he had a smell of flowers wafting around him. 
"Hey," he said, nodding to Giyuu. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. Iguro wanted me to help him with something then Kanroji came by, carrying like fifty bottles of perfume and wanted to test them out on me..." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 
A smile crept up Giyuu's lips. "So that's why you smell as what I'd imagine a bee would during the summer?"
"Shut the fuck up," Sanemi said, opening the restaurant door and tugging Giyuu inside.
After they had found their table and ordered some food and settled down, Sanemi rested his arms on the table, clasping his hands together and turned to Giyuu. "So!" he said, as if trying to say something he most definitely did not want to say.
"Hm?"
"...I hate how little you talk," Sanemi grumbled. "You only ever talk to ask the most embarrassing shit ever."
"...sorry??"
Sanemi laughed, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "Yeah, no, nevermind. Let's just wait for the food."
Giyuu nodded, his heart beating faster than a humming bird's wings. 
They waited in silence, conspicuously avoiding each others eyes.
When the food finally arrived, they took the opportunity to busy themselves with eating, pretending like they both had things they wanted to discuss but couldn't bring it up. Halfway through the meal, Giyuu gave up and said, abruptly, "Are we dating?"
Sanemi all but choked on his food, grasping for a cup of water. Giyuu hurried to help him, panicking.
After he had calmed down, Sanemi said, "I'm convinced you're trying to kill me, Tomioka."
Giyuu apologized again. "I didn't mean for that to happen..."
"I know. I was joking. Seriously, you really are stupid," Sanemi deadpanned.
"I'm not!" Giyuu whined.
"See, that was also a joke. Okay, maybe it wasn't. Also you sound like a child. But, uhm, back to the topic," Sanemi said, his tone switching completely.
They lapsed back into silence, staring at each other awkwardly.
"...are we, then...?" Giyuu mumbled, unsure what to make of the atmosphere.
"Uhm." Sanemi coughed, trying to think of a response. "Do you want to?"
Giyuu frowned. "Yes... Do you?"
Sanemi pushed a bowl of salmon daikon towards Giyuu, folding his hands on the table. "Then we're dating."
"What? But you never said if you-"
"I literally did, just not directly. But if you need me to spell it out to you then, yes. I do. And since you do too, apparently, then we're dating," Sanemi told him. 
"...okay!" Giyuu said happily, taking the bowl with a small smile.
"Mm. How is your smile so small yet it lights up your whole face..." Sanemi said, resting his elbow on the table and head in his hand, laughing gently.
"I'm smiling? Sorry," Giyuu said, his lips quickly curving to its usual neutral state.
"Why sorry? Your smile isn't terrifying," Sanemi said, frowning. 
"Kocho said it's weird," Giyuu mumbled. 
"Well fuck her, then! It's not weird, it's... cute." 
He flushed. "It's not cute!"
"Says you." A playful smirk rising upon Sanemi's face. "Anyways, hurry up and eat. I don't feel like waiting forever."
"Aren't you going to eat?-" Giyuu asked, looking up from his bowl.
"I finished."
"...oh."
××× (it's js sillyness from here on out)
Sanemi and Giyuu had come to a mutual agreement to not tell anyone of their relationship, or mostly keep it private. Both for the reasons of disliking gossip. From Tengen and Shinobu in specific. They were 99% sure that, if by any way, their relationship would become public knowledge, Tengen and Shinobu would have fun making up theories and teasing them day and night.
So, despite everyone somehow knowing that Sanemi liked Giyuu, the only people that knew of their relationship becoming real were Obanai and... Obanai. Just him. 
Sanemi had said that they could tell their closest friends—as long as they swore not to say anything. Giyuu said, quite exactly, "I don't have friends."
Which... lead to Sanemi having to comfort him. 
But all was said and all was done and the two found ways to meet in private between missions and training, managing to keep their relationship a secret for a surprisingly long amount of time. Of course, nothing ever lasts, and the Hashira eventually caught on. 
Sanemi was a lot better at hiding it, just snapping at Giyuu all the time like usual—which he assured Giyuu that whatever he said wasn't what he truly meant, until they were alone. But Giyuu, on the other hand... Well, Sanemi assumed that he'd be alright at acting given that his face was always so irritatingly impassive. He'd assumed wrong, however, and eventually found that out.
In his attempt to fulfill Sanemi's wishes to not get the word spread out—and Giyuu was dreading the time when Shinobu would find out—Giyuu kept up the act for a good couple weeks. But, since Sanemi would act a lot more affectionate with him, he was less and less used to the previously usual aggression shown to him by his boyfriend (in public) as the days past.
Needless to say, Giyuu was the reason they were exposed. Which unfortunately happened in front of the whole Hashira—right before one of their biannual meetings with Kagaya.
×××
Giyuu had entered the garden a few minutes after Sanemi, on the opposite side, not wanting to cause suspicion. He stood by a tree quietly as the other Hashira trickled in.
Mitsuri bounded up to him, talking about something he wasn't necessarily listening to, his gaze set on Sanemi who was trying to obscure Obanai's eyes from seeing that Mitsuri was talking to another man. 
Supposedly noticing the gaze, Sanemi looked up and glared at Giyuu, raising an eyebrow as if to tell him to snap out of it.
Shinobu noticed this. 
"Ara ara, are you two fighting again? I'm surprised you haven't shouted at him yet, Shinazugawa," Shinobu commented, a sly smile forming upon her lips.
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Kocho."
"No need to be so harsh," Shinobu tutted, crossing her arms and shaking her head disapprovingly.
Gyomei agreed. "And please refrain from swearing."
Mitsuri had stopped talking, looking from one Hashira to the other.
Tengen laughed. "Well, there's been a lot less tension between Tomioka and the dog," he remarked, grinning at Sanemi.
"WHAT DOG?!?!" Sanemi shouted, stalking over to Tengen.
Obanai rolled his eyes. "Stop shouting."
Giyuu stood watching everything and wondering if he should speak given that he seemed to be apart of this argument. "What dog?"
Sanemi pointed at Giyuu, though he faced Tengen. "SEE?? THERE IS NO FUCKING DOG."
Gyomei frowned. "Do not shout, you will disturb the Master."
Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine."
Giyuu walked over to where Sanemi and Tengen stood. "Is Shinazugawa the dog?" he asked quietly.
Sanemi let out a gritted scream, looking ready to explode. Tengen looked equally like a timed bomb at its last second, although for completely different reasons.
"I'MNOTADOG!!!" Sanemi screeched, grabbing Giyuu by the shoulders and shaking him.
Giyuu ducked down, stepping away from Sanemi. "Okay."
Gyomei let out the longest sigh in history as Shinobu supressed a laugh.
"My, my, you're talking a lot today, Tomioka-San!" she said, looking up at him.
"Oh."
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Well he should stop talking, he sounds like Uzui when his wives get a paper scratch," he said, crossing his arms. 
"Is that supposed to be an insult?!" Tengen gasped, looking mildly offended.
"You're the one panicking when they so much as cough!!! You're all 'OH NO ARE YOU OKAY?! Nooo, KOCHO HELP ME!! DON'T DIE ON ME, PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME—'" Sanemi said, pitching his voice higher. 
Giyuu frowned. "I don't sound like that," he and Tengen said in unison—although Tengen with a considerably larger amount of theatrical flair.
"Oh yes you do! And I mean both of you!" Sanemi said, placing his hands on his hips.
Gyomei shook his head and went to go stand next to Muichiro who was staring at a beetle in his hand.
"...I do?" Giyuu whined.
Tengen seemed to have gotten over it quite quickly and was completely unfazed now.
"And worse!" Sanemi said, a mocking smile curving his lips.
Giyuu bit his lip, looking down.
Obanai sighed. 
"The fuck are you looking at??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow at Giyuu who wouldn't meet his eyes.
Tengen's mouth curved into an 'o' and he backed away quickly, whispering loudly to Kyojuro, "Shinazugawa just made Tomioka cry-"
"He cries??" Kyojuro whispered back, seeming to think they were actually being quiet.
Tengen shrugged and leaned against a tree, watching.
"...Why are you crying-" Sanemi said, fighting the concern that rose in himself. "You a baby???"
Giyuu looked up at him, pouting, unwilling to respond.
"Ara ara, looks like you shouldn't have said that about his voice! I would be offended as well if you compared my voice to Uzui's," Shinobu said, shooting a mischevious look at Tengen who appeared wounded.
Sanemi frowned. "It wasn't even that bad of an insult," he scoffed, trying with all his might to make Giyuu act fine without saying anything. 
Giyuu sniffed loudly, ignoring Sanemi. He promptly turned away, stomping to the back of the garden and crossing his arms, acting as if he was waiting for Kagaya.
"Oooohhh-" Tengen said, a tone of amusement entering his voice. "I didn't know Tomioka could be so petty."
Shinobu raised an eyebrow. "Neither that he could be so affected by what Shinazugawa said."
Sanemi, fed up, sighed and stalked towards Giyuu, pulling him into a hug. "Giyuu, I didn't mean shit, I like your voice, okay??" he murmured, placing a kiss on Giyuu's nose. "Don't ignore me."
Giyuu seemed to brighten up instantly—which made Sanemi irritated because it had probably been an act then—and nodded. "Okay!"
"...ARE YOU TWO FINALLY DATING-" Kyojuro said, much too loudly.
"I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!!!" Shinobu shouted triumphantly.
Obanai shook his head with a sigh. "Well it was going to get out sooner or later."
Sanemi shot a glare at them. "Oh, fuck off."
Giyuu rested his head on Sanemi's shoulder, a small smile playing on his face.
×××
"I thought we agreed to keep it a secret..." Sanemi whined, as he and Giyuu were on their way back home.
"I'm sorrryyy," Giyuu said, pouting. 
"Mmmhmm, well, I'm not giving you cuddles for three weeks now!" Sanemi told him, quickening his pace.
"WHAT?? NO-" Giyuu shouted, chasing after him.
Sanemi laughed, turning and abruptly stopping Giyuu, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I told you to work on differentiating a joke from a serious comment, Giyuu."
"...Well I'm trying!" Giyuu insisted, huffing. "...you're not going to take away my cuddles, are you?"
"No. That would be taking away my own, anyways. But! I'm still not letting you off. Which means I'm not making you salmon daikon for the rest of the week," Sanemi said, dragging Giyuu down the road.
"Awh..." Giyuu whined, trotting after Sanemi.
"Be glad it's Friday."
××× (this last part is completely random and has nothing to do with anything but I js wanted to write this)
Sanemi pushed Giyuu down, pinning him to the floor. He fit his lips to Giyuu's, closing his eyes. Legs wrapped around his waist as Giyuu clung onto him and Sanemi tangled his hand in the tangled mess of his boyfriend's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. 
"Sa...nemi," Giyuu breathed between kisses, his face dusted in pink. 
Sanemi pulled back, letting him breathe. "Yes?" he murmured, resting his lips upon Giyuu's forehead in a gentle kiss.
"I love you," Giyuu said quietly, his arms tightening their embrace around Sanemi's torso.
Sanemi smiled. "I love you most," he said, pulling Giyuu back into a kiss.
"Tha's... not fair...!" Giyuu whined, trying to avoid the kisses.
"Mhmm, I'm not fair at all then?" Sanemi said, peppering Giyuu's jaw with kisses.
"Nooo..."
Sanemi laughed. "Do you not love me, then?"
"I love you!" Giyuu insisted, turning back and catching a kiss on his bottom lip. 
"Love you too, darling."
×××
 « Word count: 11,420 »
ELEVEN THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY WORDS OF PURE FUCKING FLUFF. 
anyways back to writing angst ;v;
will y'all forgive me for getting lazy and making it rushed because it took me over a month to actually finish this (loss of motivation+procrastination+rereading+editing+long asf+stalling)?
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lavendertrash39 · 2 months
Text
Hi there. I want to talk about Reigen's depression, specifically in the outro of season one.
I just want to start this by saying that Reigen has by far been one of the most accurate and absolute gut punch of a representation of depression that I've ever seen... especially if I got into him having ADHD and depression... but maybe that's for another day.
I've finished the show now, but even from the beginning, I kept saying that there feels like there's just this sense of something being wrong or off in the outro. It truly feels like the morning routine of a depressed person who's just... continuing to go through life. Because that's something that makes his depression so important to me-- that it never feels like a plot point that comes up whenever it's really intense. It's just... always there. Lingering. Changing how he views the world.
This can be seen in the stylization of the outro. It's all black and white, and everything is shaky, hazy almost. As if he's not fully there.
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Everything's so quick to fade. It's so apathetic. He does this every morning. Makes himself look presentable, gets the hit of stimulant from the nicotine in his cigarette, and then everything fades again.
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Then there's the commute to Spirits and Such. He leaves his apartment, and it still has that same shaky, hazy feel. It very much feels like he's not fully present for that walk. Literally, it'll jump/fade between different parts of his walk. It's like there's a fog around everything he's doing, but he'll remember the little things that stuck out. The little things that broke his routine (the people running, the cat).
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Then, finally, he sees Mob. This is kind of an obvious thing to point out-- but at the end of all of that routine, Mob is the one who brings color into his world. I think it's also interesting that we never see Reigen's actual face in the outro. We see him from the back, and we see him smoking, but that's the closest we get. He's at a distance, everything hazy and disconnected.
This is how depression is when you've been living with it for so long.
Reigen still has to go to his job, still has to "be an adult", so it's caused him to just live with this depression. It's that feeling of emptiness that's so hard to describe to anyone who hasn't been depressed. Like you're just going through the motions, unable to connect with the world around you. You don't even know anything's wrong, because this is just how things are. Living life becomes apathetic. I think that's what stuck out the most about the outro.
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